Ken Lizzi's Blog, page 36
May 29, 2022
The Great Garrett Reread Begins.
Rereading LOTR engenders a warm, comforting contentment. Rereading Garrett offers a sense of rightness, of completion. One is coming home, the other is going to the pub. Each appeals.��
The Garrett books were…influential. I won���t say foundational, since I didn���t start reading them until college. But once I started I didn���t look back, picking up each subsequent volume, and indulging in frequent rereads. I think I���m on my third copy of the omnibus containing the first three novels. I kept loaning them out to girlfriends and didn���t always get them returned. Looking back, I don���t think I shared the volume as a test. It wasn���t a question of ���If you don���t like this we aren���t compatible.��� It was more a shortcut to offering her a glimpse of me, as I saw myself through a flattering funhouse mirror.��
Sweet Silver Blues. I can���t recall the number of times I���ve read this. It doesn���t matter. It works every time. SSB is a polished gem of a book. It hits all the right notes. I read it first shortly after its publication, before I���d begun my Rex Stout studies under the tutelage of Archie Goodwin and headmaster Nero Wolfe. That didn���t matter then. Understanding the influences, homages, and winks and nods only increases my appreciation. As a youngster I had a passing familiarity with Chandler and Hammett. Over the years I added Stout and MacDonald. I realize there are still gaps, that I���ll miss some of the references in the Garrett books. It still doesn���t matter.
SSB introduces us to the major players in the series: Garrett (natch), Morley Dotes, the Dead Man, Saucerhead Tharpe, Tinnie Tate, and a few bit players. It gives us our first glimpse of the stage: TunFaire, before taking us out for what is a rare trip beyond the confines of Garrett���s urban milieu. And we get a bangup yarn, complete with sleuthing, travel, loads of humor, and a great set-piece assault that, due to Glen Cook���s economical, almost Hemingway-esque minimalism, shouldn���t work as well as it does, yet succeeds in rousing every time. As a crowning touch, Cook manages to imbue the tale with a touching warmth at precisely the right times.
A gem.
Bitter Gold Hearts. Follows some of the beats from the first one, but isn���t a rehash. Though Morley Dotes somewhat echoes his role as ally with his own agenda. A recurrent theme, at least in the first three books. Cook delves even further into the ugly underbelly of civilization. The scene with Saucerhead at the Bledsoe gets me every time, as touching as the Kayean Kronk and the young Marine bit from SSB.
Cook shows his ability to convolute, pitch the red herrings, and obfuscate. But he never cheats. All the clues are duly planted. In due time.
We get an appreciation for Garrett���s attitudes toward arbitrary authority and unearned power. We learn that his cynicism is, perhaps, well founded. And we are introduced to an important player, Chodo Contague, the kingpin of the TunFaire underworld, as well as two of his henchmen, the icily brutal Crask and Sadler.
Glory Mooncalled gets namechecked more often, and Cook begins laying the groundwork for future storylines.
Cold Copper Tears. There is a line in this book I quoted for decades: ���My favorite sport is female and my favorite food is beer.��� Marriage has since curbed my sporting appetites.
The physical description of Garrett gave me pause this time. I���ve seldom really seen him as a ginger. Given that, his appearance is, I believe, supposed to be more reminiscent of Travis McGee than Archie Goodwin. There is certainly no hint of Sam Spade. (Sadly, I can���t remember what Philip Marlow was supposed to look like.)��
My surprise here is justified; on the very first page of the very next book, Garrett states he has brown hair. So, go figure.
Cook telegraphs the general grounding of the book a bit too early, but perhaps that���s only noticeable on a re-read. And Cook does have to get the plot going at some point.
This book is dark. That underbelly of civilization gets even uglier. Cook gives serious consideration to the damage done to children by poverty, neglect, and general human malignancy. Garrett���s friendship with Morley, while useful, does morally compromise Garrett. He may assuage his conscience by the fact that he���s not the one cutting throats, but those throats would have remained unscathed if he hadn���t invited Morley Dotes along. Adds a dimension to the character and, for a thinking reader, invites introspection: Is the reader vicariously compromised as well if he condones the action? There is a lot going on in these light, humorous American detective story homages of Cook���s.
We get a better appreciation of the scope of TunFaire, visiting the DreamQuarter, the Tenderloin, and more. Garrett wears down a lot of shoe leather in this one.
In the final (?) book of the series, Garrett takes what appeared to be a sharp, uncharacteristic turn in his personal life. Keeping that in mind, I���m observing Tinnie Tates actions more closely this time, reading past the flippancy to the fictional reality that narrative style obscures. I���m beginning to suspect that the sharp turn I objected to might well turn out to be utterly reasonable and foreseeable to those who read more closely and considered the Tinnie Tate blow ups, rows, and flares of temper to be warning signs.
CCT remains a good read. I get more of the sense that Cook is settling in for the long haul, planting more seeds he intends to harvest in later books.
So, for those who haven’t yet visited TunFaire, I recommend it. Or, if you are perhaps interested in a standalone novel first, before diving into a series, how about Reunion? Or Under Strange Suns? Or perhaps even Thick As Thieves.
Home. Resurrected Post.
Hobbits are the quintessential homebodies. So it is no wonder that Professor Tolkien���s literary masterpiece��includes one of the few examples in speculative fiction of a lovingly detailed home. Bag End is so finely realized that most of us would love to live there. That makes it a rarity. Homes in speculative fiction are usually jumping off points, or places characters are pleased to leave, or destroyed in order to compel the characters to leave. Homes are seldom longed for, or if they are, we take the character���s word for it, instead of vicariously experiencing that longing ourselves as we do with the Baggins��� cozy hole in the ground.
This is understandable, of course. Adventures take place out there, not at home. One of the milestones of player character development in Dungeons and Dragons is the ability to build a castle, or abbey, or what have you upon reaching ���name��� level. Players would start saving money upon nearing the needed level in order to pay for construction. They���d draft architectural drawings and floor plans. But I don���t recall that after that the player character���s stronghold ever got much use. It was a base of operations, same as the inn nearest the dungeon, a place to leave behind to get to the adventure. It is no different in speculative fiction stories, which tend toward adventure fiction instead of slice-of-life domestic drama. So why bother expending much ink describing the place?
I can think of a few others in addition to Bag End. The wizard Prospero���s home in The Face in the Frost is nicely delineated and it serves as an important setting in the story. I could empathize with Prospero���s desire to get home. Then there is Serenity, but I suppose it could be considered cheating when you can take your home with you on your adventures.
Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser seldom have a fixed abode, until the last collection. The rented apartments don���t exert much pull on the heartstrings, and taverns don���t really count as home. Sorry Cheers (and the Cheerful Tortoise ��� shout out to my college fraternity brothers.) Garrett, from Glen Cook���s novels does have a minutely detailed home. That could be an example. But the Garrett books are very much an homage to Rex Stout���s Nero Wolfe novels, so I���m not sure Garrett���s house truly counts in the speculative fiction tally.
Can anyone think of some other examples? Or do we leave Bag End as the happy beau ideal?
Appendix N is Cosmically Indifferent to Your Opinion: HP Lovecraft. Resurrected Post.
So we come to HPL himself, Howard Phillips Lovecraft. Much anguished ink has been spilled over HPL in recent years. You want to delve into that, you���re on your own. I���m just writing about stories here.
HPL is best known for his Cthulhu Mythos tales, his stories of men driven to madness upon coming face-to-face with cosmic horrors. The kicker, and the thrust of HPL���s philosophy, is that these cosmic horrors ��� and by extension, the universe itself ��� are completely indifferent to the fate, and even the existence, of humanity.
I wonder how HPL influenced Gary Gygax. The alignment system as developed in Advanced Dungeons and Dragons carries no overtones of HPL���s bleak existentialist view. In fact, the AD&D alignment system suggests precisely the opposite, that gods, planes of existence, afterlives, etc. are fundamentally tied up with humanity, in fact linked tightly to individual human���s morality and belief systems. Even the precursor versions of D&D, with the Poul Anderson and MIchael Moorcock bi-lateral Chaos/Order cosmos seem to contain no echo of HPL���s philosophy.
The way I see it, at most HPL contributed some cosmic-scale monsters to challenge high level characters. But I could be missing something and am willing to entertain alternative theories.
My personal preference is HPL���s Dream Cycle stories, only tangentially related to the Mythos. In these stories of beautifully realized imagination, HPL comes close to rivalling Clark Ashton Smith���s poetic prose. If Cthulhu, Hastur, and Co., are starting to get you down, pick up one of the tales of Randolph Carter and journey through the dreamlands.
Cute Little Baby New Year Already Has a Tattoo and a Piercing. Resurrected Post.
The Earth has circled the sun once more. Congratulations: if you���re reading this you survived the trip.
A traditional post-New Year���s Day activity is the listing of resolutions, followed by the traditional failure to adhere to the resolutions. I���m bypassing that tradition like it was a steaming pile of dog poop on the sidewalk. Instead I���m limiting myself to some writerly aspirations for the year. There���s a difference, really.
First: find a home for Thick as Thieves. I think with a spitshine and a fresh haircut, the book is ready to meet the public. Or at least the publisher.
Second: finish Boss by ��� oh, let���s say the third quarter of the year. I���m having fun with this one, but it isn���t coming along as rapidly as I���d like. I suppose I should resolve to make more time to write every day, but resolutions will always lose the cage match against a two-year old. If she���s here and I���m here, doesn���t that make it her time? Yes, yes it does.
Third: plot the sequel to Boss and finish 10-15% of the first draft by the end of the year.
Plausible and practicable. That���s how I like my aspirations. Reach for the stars, but start with the nearest.
Happy New Year.
Holiday Reading Resurrected Post.
Christmas is behind you. The detritus of wrapping paper, bows, packing material, and boxes has been disposed of. The refrigerator is stuffed with leftovers. You hope to make enough room for party platters and bottles of champagne within a few days. The presents of clothing are washed, folded, and put away.
And now you���re looking forward to utilizing the best of the presents: the bookstore gift cards. What to buy? Relax, dear reader. I���m here to help.
It would, I suppose, be inappropriate to suggest my own novels. Crass, gauche, pushy. It simply isn���t done. Fine, let me move on to some worthy selections by other ��� ah, to hell with that. Here are links to my books at both Amazon and Barnes and Noble.
Okay, that���s out of the way. Now, what sorts of books am I suggesting? My intent is to point out some books that possess a spark of holiday spirit. Not necessarily Christmas, or New Year���s Eve, or what have you. But a certain quality of homey familiarity. A touch of whimsy. The sort of book you���d want to read beside a fire, with a cup of warm, mulled wine at your elbow, and slippers on your feet. Also, books that you perhaps may not have read already. So, no Tolkien, no Pratchett.
The Face in the Frost by John Bellairs epitomizes the holiday read. It spans celebrations. It possesses more than a touch of whimsy despite some genuinely tense moments. And, most important, it leaves you with a grin, and glow of satisfaction, like a good meal or that first sip of strong ale.
The Elfin Ship by James Blaylock. More of the same, but different. Call it a bookend to The Face in the Frost. Celebrations, journeys, whimsy. And a Bilbo-esque homecoming. Warming and amusing throughout.
The Pyrates by George MacDonald Fraser. A lark. A book perhaps best read in private, unless you don���t mind strangers looking at you while you burst into laughter every few minutes, or just sustain a sort of constant chuckle for minutes on end.
A Night in Lonesome October by Roger Zelazny. While this is rather holiday specific, it still offers that spark for a winter holiday read. That a book can exude such whimsy throughout, despite the gruesome doings going on beneath the surface is a tribute to Zelazny���s writing skills.
The Princess Bride by William Goldman. Sure, you���ve seen the movie. But perhaps you haven���t read the book. The Dread Pirate Roberts, Buttercup, Fezzik, and the rest, with an altogether different framing story and ��� in my opinion ��� an even better end, will keep you in the fireside armchair until the last embers wink out and the last of the mulled wine has pretty well mulled you.
I hope I���ve helped. Any suggestions you���d like to add? I didn���t actually get a gift card this year, but there���s always the library.
The Push Continues. Resurrected Post.
And thus I continue pounding the drum and tooting the horn.
The Portland Things From Another World store generously hosted a signing for ���Under Strange Suns��� last Wednesday. ��I sold books, signed my name, chatted with customers. That I can do.
Last Tuesday I sat for an interview with Simon Rose of Fantasy Fiction Focus. That I���m less comfortable with. Public speaking, stages, cameras: don���t like them. Nonetheless, the interview proceeded. Simon is a personable fellow and is used to dealing with skittery, shy writers.
How did I do? Decide for yourself.
Published on December 20, 2015 13:48
Connubial Characters. Resurrected Post.
I���ve been thinking about weddings and marriage recently. And, since I���m me, about fiction. Specifically speculative fiction, i.e., fantasy and science fiction.
Now dramatic narrative, even in speculative fiction, often leads to a wedding between characters. But it seems that characters ��� main characters, at least ��� seldom begin a story in a state of matrimony. Singles dominate the rosters of main characters. Why is that?
A couple of answers come to mind. First, as I mentioned, a wedding is a common narrative culmination. So the characters must, perforce, enter the story single. Second, is matrimony is linked with domesticity. Domesticity connotes peaceful routine. Whether that is true or not is irrelevant. The point is that a writer after action, conflict, drama, war, explosions, adventure, intrigue, etc. doesn���t gravitate naturally to the stable institution of marriage. And the marriage itself could stand in the way of all the choices the writer wants to place before the protagonist. William B. Blastoff is unlikely to explore the stellar reaches of the BEM Nebula if he and Mrs. Blastoff are busy perusing color samples at the Home Depot.
I���m trying to think of examples of married couples in fantasy or SF novels. Not characters who end up married by the end of the book or series. That is common enough. But I���m having trouble coming up with any. Steven Brust provides a good example of a couple meeting, getting married, and divorcing over the course of a few books in one of his series. (I���m trying to avoid spoilers here, otherwise I���d mention the series and characters, as well as bring up some rather prominent personages in one of Glen Cook���s series.) Secondary characters do enter the stage married, e.g., Celeborn and Galadriel. But what about our protagonists?
Help me out, readers. My memory isn���t what it used to be. I���m sure I���m missing some good examples.
Fritz Leiber, The Touchstone of Appendix N. Resurrected Post.
I intend to write today about Fritz Leiber. But first, I want to acknowledge Jan���s Paperbacks for once again arranging a book signing for me. My hat is off to you ladies.
What more can be written about Fritz Leiber? He was one of the giants of swords and sorcery. Among the genre���s congnoscenti, he is recognized as a peer of Robert E. Howard. Of course, to the casual reader he���s less likely to be a household name. For those of you who have played Dungeons and Dragons, Leiber has influenced you whether you���ve heard of him or not.
Out of all the the writers seated at the round table of Appendix N, Fritz Leiber arguably had the greatest influence on the tone and composition of Dungeons and Dragons. Jack Vance is perhaps the facile choice, the source of the game���s Vancian magic system. But with the creation of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, Fritz Leiber drew up the blueprint for swords and sorcery adventure gaming. Any time you and a few friends loot a dungeon then blow the money in a tavern, you are paying homage to the exploits of the big, redheaded barbarian, Fafhrd, and the nimble, dangerous rogue, the Gray Mouser.
Adventure hook found in a tavern? Check. Thieve���s guild? Check. Hell, the Gray Mouser is the prototype of the thief class. Go on, read through a few of the short stories. The influences are both scattered on the surface and running deep through the structure of the narrative and world building.
Beyond that, there is the language. Leiber belongs on the stylistic family tree with Clark Ashton Smith and Jack Vance. There is the rich vocabulary, the sophisticated humor, the cynical philosophy, the witty dialogue. Eminently re-readable.
Do yourself a favor. If you haven���t read the Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser stories, get thee to a bookstore and pick them up. If you have, grab your copies of the shelf and plunge back into the streets of Lankhmar once again.
The Post-Thanksgiving Post. Resurrected Post.
The turkey is now a dwindling cache of leftovers. A slice of pie or two remains in the refrigerator. The last, persistent relative has cleared out of the guest room. Thanksgiving is a memory, a blurring collection of noise, arguments, football, arguments about football, and overindulgence.
That about sum it up for you?
It doesn���t paint a truly accurate portrait of my Thanksgiving, but I���m invoking my poetic license. See, right there under the big print that says ���WRITER��� the license reads ���May make shit up.���
I���m thankful for that, among other things. Hasn���t been a bad year, to be honest. I can be truly thankful. I���m thankful for you readers. I���d be thankful for more of you, of course, but go too far down that road and you get run over by ingratitude. I���m thankful for all those who���ve bought ���Under Strange Suns��� and ���Reunion.��� I���m thankful for my publisher taking a risk on a minor scribbler of short stories (though I suppose that should be in last year���s collection of thanks.) I���m thankful for a wife who understands my need to, once per day, disappear inside my head while sitting at the keyboard. I���m thankful for a squealing, laughing daughter (though the onset of the Terrible Twos has a tendency to temper that thanks from time to time.)
I���m thankful for the power company. It���s bone-chilling outside. Clear and beautiful, but frigid. I saw a couple of polar bears eying parkas in a department store window. I���m thankful for beer. That, I suppose, should go without saying, but I���m saying it anyway. Hail Ninkasi, doff your cap to King Gambrinus. I���m thankful the price of gasoline dipped this year. I���m thankful the books I enjoyed reading this year outnumbered those that disappointed.
Not a bad year, with one month left to go.
What about you? What ratcheted up your gratitude meter?
Orycon 37 in the Rearview Mirror. Resurrected Post.
That���s another Orycon is in the books. Another weekend a half step out of pace with the ordinary. I had a marvelous time. With the exception of my ill-fated attempt to watch a football game in the Fan Lounge, no one seemed to object to my presence. So that���s nice.
The panels I sat on appeared to have been well received. My theory is that if the panel is receiving questions from many of the auditors instead of just that one guy (you know the one, there���s always one) then you���ve held a successful discussion.
The dealers��� room once again provided bargains. You can���t always find a wide selection of quality paperbacks for a buck. But I always do at Orycon. The art show, as usual, provided clever, evocative, or downright beautiful treats for the eye.
I saw some friends, met several new people, enjoyed some amiable chats, and mingled my way through a variety of room parties.
Oh, yeah, I also sold a couple of books.
I���m calling it a success. I���ll be ready to do it all again next year.
