Book Review: Swords Against Death

    Fantasy isn’t my genre of choice.  I’m a Science Fiction fan.  Even when it’s mostly a matter of aesthetics, like Edgar Rice Burroughs’s Mars books, for example.  I prefer laser guns and repulsor beams to spells and magic carpets.  Yet, there are plenty of exceptions.  Robert E. Howard’s Conan is the obvious.  I can’t get enough of those stories.  And like many lonely, sad teenage boys, I read Michael Moorcock’s Elric with great eagerness (though I preferred Corum).  And then there’s Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser.  They’re something else.

    Contemporary Fantasy literature tends to be descended from two major figures in the genre, J.R.R. Tolkien and Robert E. Howard. There were others, of course, but those two represent two of the major themes and styles.  Tolkien’s side of the spectrum is High Fantasy, with lots of magic, destiny, mysticism, and Medievalism.  Howard’s is more Low Fantasy, focusing on Nietzschean individualism, earthiness, and Antediluvianism.  Yet, those two ends of the spectrum are not the final words on the genre.  There are other voices that have done a great deal to influence writers over the decades.  And Fritz Leiber is up there at the top of the list.  Reading the Fafhrd & the Gray Mouser stories, you can’t help but feel like you’re entering a familiar world, even though things are very weird.  Dungeons & Dragons, deeply rooted in Tolkien though it is, was obviously trying to reach for something from Leiber.  In spite of the 30s/40s origin of the characters, the feel the stories elicit is of those wonderful 70s paperback covers.  There’s a pulpiness, sure.  But there’s also wistful nostalgia, bitterness, and hints of psychedelia, that makes it feel far more modern.  

    “Swords Against Death” is the second collection of Fafhrd & The Gray Mouser stories.  Leiber went back and arranged the stories into chronological order, and fleshed some things out in the 60s.  So in this volume, the two heroes (?) are fast friends, well acquainted with each other, and building something of a reputation.  Over the course of the stories, they achieve some victories, finally put to rest some ghosts, and gain some weird patrons.  They also explore the world enough for you to get a sense that Nehwon is far stranger place than expected.  Lankhmar, the city where most of the stories are based, is a kind of fantasy, urban archetype.  All the seedy, degenerate, corrupt, and exciting things you’d expect in a medieval or ancient metropolis are present and thriving.  But leaving that city, the world around is strange and fractured, wild and weird.  

    For Fantasy fans, Leiber’s stories are must read classics.  For fans of tabletop RPGs, especially games like D&D or Rolemaster, these tales are an absolute must.  But for folks who simply enjoy well told tales, these stories are also quite good.  Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser are a great odd couple team.  Fritz Leiber is a solid writer, and more ‘Literary’ than a lot of his contemporaries, who manages to inject a good deal of humor along with a lot of sadness in to his adventure stories.  

-Matthew J. Constantine

Tabletop Roleplaying Review: Barbarians of Lemuria

    Way back when I first started writing for In the Mouth of Dorkness, I had plans to explore one of my favorite hobbies, tabletop roleplaying games. I started the Prodigal Son column, where I chronicled my attempts to get back into the hobby, which sadly didn’t really work out. At the time, I thought I’d write the occasional review of a game or game book. I only did that once, with my exploration of Over the Edge. Well, I’m giving it another go.

    I can’t remember where I first came across the name of Barbarians of Lemuria (BoL, as it’s known). I think it was on a Facebook gaming page where people were talking about their favorite “light mechanics” games (games with fairly simple, straightforward rules). Whatever the case, something struck me. I read further into it and found that it was a small game, independently written and produced, that had garnered quite the fan base. Those who had heard of it; who had read the book, seemed rather enamored of it. Looking deeper, it started to sound like just the thing I’d been looking for, a game made for running Swords & Sorcery games, a la Robert E. Howard’s Conan. So, I hopped on to Lulu and ordered the hardcover (I always prefer a print copy, and hardcover if I can get it; I’m just not very good with e-books and PDFs).

    The game evolved out of Simon Washbourne’s desire to create a game based on the world of Lin Carter’s Thongor of Lemuria, kind of a second string Conan. Because he couldn’t get an official licensed game out, he modified things, making it more his own. The setting is fine. It’s very true to the Sword & Sorcery aesthetics and would make a fine sandbox to play in. But the system is what I was most interested in, this time around (not something I ever thought I’d say). I was looking for a good system for Conan, and I found it. The basic mechanic is easy and intuitive, which I like. But the thing that really makes the game for me is the career path system. This captures something of the genre I haven’t seen captured before. When you look at a character like Conan, or Solomon Kane, or Elric, or Fafhrd & the Gray Mouser, they weren’t always one thing. Conan wasn’t always a roving adventurer. He was a thief, a military man, a deckhand on a ship, and many other things. He had several careers, learned many skills over his years. And BoL’s career path system reflects that.

    The only weakness I see in the game comes from its adherence to some of the less advanced views of many of the classic genre authors. I’m talking about women, here. The game is firmly set in the ‘big tough men rescuing shapely, weak women’ mindset. It’s not too blatant or overbearing about it, but there are bits dropped throughout that remind you many of the more interesting female swords & sorcery heroes came around much later. It wouldn’t take much of any effort to tweek things onto a more enlightened path.

    So, for folks who like easy, numbers light game mechanics and Swords & Sorcery Fantasy adventure, this is a great game. The setting is fine. The mechanics are nice. And I think you could have a lot of fun with it. I know I’m really looking forward to roping some folks in to Hyborian Age game, and I’ll almost certainly be using Barbarians of Lemuria when I do it. 

-Matthew J. Constantine

Contemporary Heroes VS Classic Heroes

(So, it's been a while. But here's a new post, where I'm trying to work out some ideas. I'd welcome feedback, as I'm not sure I've got a coherent point yet.)

After recently revisiting the Star Wars universe with The Force Awakens, then going back to the works of Robert E. Howard, and finally watching some of the so-called adaptations of that author’s work, as well as the Edgar Rice Burroughs adaptation John Carter, I was struck again by something I’ve been pondering for some time. Contemporary heroes, those typically in fashion in the literature and film of today, are not like heroes of old. There seem to be two distinct and different types of heroes (I’m sure there are more), the self-driven, self-made, self-motivated hero on the one side, and the externally driven, pawn of fate/the gods hero. And, as I’ve been thinking about this, I’ve noticed that some popular fate-driven heroes of today got their start as self-driven heroes of the past. Batman and Superman are two very well known examples of heroes who were once masters of their own fate, but are now frequently portrayed as slaves to it. And then you have John Carter and Conan the Cimmerian. While Carter is transported to Mars (Barsoom) against his will, he then quickly becomes the master of his own fate, taking up arms and winning the hearts and swords of a kingdom. Conan sets out to experience the world for no other reason than his personal desire to learn and experience new and exciting things. But in film adaptations of both characters, fate seems to have picked each for their appointed task. They have destinies. In the Conan films, this is most egregious, featuring Conan’s family being slain and him being driven/stolen from his home and forced into slavery, then destined to rise up and become king. He does not choose to go, he does not choose to become king. These things are chosen for him by the whims of ...of the gods?

In the cases of Superman and Conan this seems to spit directly in the face of the meaning of the characters. Both are Nietzschean Ubermensch, self-made heroes who stand apart and stand as something for others to aspire to. But in later works, they become more Christ-like, meek servants, who are ultimately slaves to greater forces; pretty much the opposite of the Nietzschean ideal. And Batman now becomes a crime fighter not because he was a man of means who saw that he could do something to help people, but because he was tortured by a crime perpetrated upon him. This seems to say that without the death of his parents, Bruce Wayne would simply have been the care-free playboy he pretends to be. His morality, in this scenario does not come from a personal sense of right and wrong, but from a sense of guilt, shame, and revenge foisted upon him by fickle fate. Much like the argument that without the gods there is no morality. I’ve always been somewhat upset by the idea that some people believe that without religion, they would murder, steal, and rape at will. Without someone forcing their will upon you, you have no will of your own? That idea upsets me. But it seems to be at the root of many contemporary heroes, who are only heroic because fate, god, or someone else forces them to become so. Without an outside force acting upon him or her, he or she would either remain unexceptional. Or worse, would be amoral (ala Bruce Wayne’s persona).

And this brings me to contemporary hero avatar, Luke Skywalker. In a film with self-made heroes like Han Solo and Princess Leia, Luke is the ultimate tool of fate, and this becomes more and more pronounced as the series goes on and we learn more about him and his family. He has nearly no agency, no will of his own. In fact, one of the only things he seems to do on his own, by his own will is go to his room and sulk. Otherwise, he is constantly pushed, directed, prodded, and dragged from hick farm boy to galactic hero. Could there be anyone less like Conan? Could there be anyone more emblematic of the contemporary concept of hero? I recently skimmed (I honestly couldn’t bring myself to read it closely, as I got too annoyed) an article comparing and contrasting Star Trek with Star Wars, which essentially boiled down to Star Wars was about fighting the Man, and Star Trek was about being the Man. But was Star Trek about being the Man? Kirk was constantly standing on his own, his crew was constantly going outside the bounds of law and status quo. To me, Star Trek was less about being the Man, and more about bettering oneself, then giving those below a hand up. Star Wars seemed more about lashing out after allowing cruelty to win for too long; essentially fighting back only after there was literally nothing left to do but die. I mean, they didn’t even give the Empire a real bloody nose until AFTER millions and millions of people had been enslaved and murdered. Fate forced the hand of Luke and the rest of the Rebellion. Only when there was absolutely nothing left to do but something, did they do anything.

So when did the change happen? Why? Am I just off base on all of this? And as a fan of Robert E. Howard’s Conan (and other characters), Edgar Rice Burroughs’s John Carter (and other characters), and other self-made heroes (The Shadow, Allan Quatermain, Beowulf, etc.), is there any hope of them being translated to film or TV without first being sifted through the more modern, meak, fate-driven fashion?

-Matthew J. Constantine

Dork Art: Frazetta's Conan

I've been thinking a lot about Frank Frazetta and his amazing artwork recently.  Of course, that gets me to thinking about Conan and wanting to go back and read some of my favorite stories.  Red Nails, Queen of the Black Coast, The Frost Giant's Daughter.  Love it all.

Will we ever get a film that does Howard justice?  I'm not holding my breath, but I can dream.

-Matt

Matt’s Week in Dork! (12/16-12/22)

    As always during this time of year, my life is largely consumed by the horrors of working in the retail industry.  So, though there have been a few bright spots on my Dork path, I’ve spent much of my free time on my couch, doing what I do best.  Watching movies.  I’ve been a bit more all over the map this week than I was last, with my mega-load of Doctor Who.  But man, I found one movie that’s stuck with me.  Beyond the Black Rainbow was a trip; that’s for sure.  My reading has been spotty at best, mostly just squeezed in during bus trips.  And I finished nothing.


Gantz:  At the moment of death, two stupid kids get transported to a small, securely locked Tokyo apartment, with several other people…and a large black sphere.  Eventually, it provides them with guns and strange costumes, and orders them to go out and kill.  The original anime had some really cool ideas (though it totally sucked), so I thought that maybe it would work better in a shorter, feature length version (and without all the awfulness of Japanese animation).  Sadly, the characters are just as stupid and ineffectual as they were in the anime, spending much of their time staring dumbly or talking about what they should do, instead of doing…ANYTHING!!!  It literally doesn’t have the time to waste that the show did, but gives it the old college try.  There’s a lot of standing around, blubbering, crying, whimpering, and generally not helping anyone, acting in self defense, or really acting in any way.  There is a cool story under all the typical Japanese BS of uninteresting characters, social awkwardness, and an almost fetishistic need to do nothing in the face of nearly any circumstance.  I think this concept, done by almost anyone but the Japanese (or, obviously, the Italians), could make for a seriously badass movie/book/TV series.  This ain’t it.  (Anyone who wants to complain about Hollywood films being monotonous and vacuous, should spend some time watching Japanese film from the last 30 years.  There are obviously people with interesting ideas, but the ability to translate them into compelling film seems almost totally absent.  There are exceptions, but they are VERY rare).

Magic:  A young illusionist with social issues doesn’t have much success.  But then, he gets himself a dummy and things take off.  Hopkins is creepy, with his serial killer in training smile and…well a dummy.  Like clowns, ventriloquists have always struck me as inherently unwholesome.  Whatever the case, our hero is all kinds of crazypants, and just before he gets a shot at the bigtime, he flakes out and goes to live in a cabin by a lake.  When he’s not getting weird with his wood, he’s actually oddly charming with Ann-Margret.  In those moments, I keep wanting him to succeed.  But the rest of the time, I want someone to torch the dummy and Hopkins right behind it.

The Black Dahlia:  Problem # 1: John Hartnett.  He’s just not lead material.  Sorry, Hollywood; I know you tried like three times to make us think he is, but he’s not.  The look, maybe.  But not the charisma.  Problem # 2: Scarlett Johansson.  She’s not one of the all time greats, but she’s been better…like everywhere else.  Problem # 3:  Who gives a f&*%?  It takes almost a half hour to get to the titular case.  Do we really need to be subjected the excruciating back story of two investigating cops and the dizzy dame between them?  And Problem # 4:  The ending.  Yeah, I’ve seen Chinatown, too, Mr. De Palma.  And Polanski is a much more talented Hitchcock disciple.  As usual with De Palma, the movie looks good, even when it’s not.  Aaron Eckhart is cool, but he’s a bit too obvious as the dirty cop buddy.  He’s got the charisma, but for some reason, the powers that be only seem willing to let him play second fiddle.

Till the Clouds Roll By:  Times have changed.  I don’t think any modern audience would sit through an opening 20 minute musical montage of Showboat, before the story even starts.  Once it does get going, the actors all do a fine job.  A young composer has a hard time finding work, so travels to England to find inspiration and a chance at the big time.  Stray luck brings him into contact with the girl of his dreams, but work keeps him away for a while.  Meteoric success and money, sure helps with the wooing, though.  I hope they had frequent boating miles, ‘cause these folks go back and forth across the Atlantic like other people change their shirts.  There are a few too many musical numbers, but I guess that’s what people were looking for from movies like this.  Judie Garland’s dishwasher song gave me a taste of what people saw in her (which I never really did).  But our hero’s treatment of Sally is frickin’ cold.  One of those awful, ‘I’m very disappointed’ speeches, but on a suicide inducing level of cruelty (she doesn’t kill herself, but she does run away).  It’s not bad, and has some good songs.  But it’s way too long (over 2 hours).

The Awful Dr. Orlof:  It’s easy to forget that once upon a time, Jess Franko was a filmmaker of some potential.  Not yet the purveyor of sub-bargain-basement horror trash of the lowest caliber the last four decades have inflicted upon us.  No.  Once there was a spark of something better.  This, one of his earliest works, is a moody and stylistic attempt, with strong doses of Universal monsters, Hammer, and German expressionism.  Unlike his later films, the touches of quality don’t appear to be accidental.  He’s certainly aided by the Karloff-like Howard Vernon, who has clear screen presence, a mix of sinister and classy.  The music is crazy out of this world jazz, which gives the whole thing an ever weirder vibe.

Orloff and the Invisible Man:  Howard Vernon is back, lurking about in a castle again.  There’s not a lot of point or sense in things.  But it looks pretty good.  And the reveal of the titular invisible man is good for a laugh.  Brigitte Carver is weird looking.  The lead is kind of awesomely dull, vaguely confused, but not especially concerned by anything and everything.  There sure is a lot of nudity, and like most French films of this era, it lacked a lot of the gratuitous gore of Italian films.

Doctor Who: Timelash:  “He’s standing on the edge of oblivion.”  This story is weird.  A planet ruled by a mysterious despot, with a society trying to unshackle itself from the monster.  There’s a time tunnel, androids, a dragon, Herbert.  It’s pretty wild.  It reminds me a bit of the weird 80s roleplaying game, Paranoia, with its technological utopia gone very, very wrong.  The villains are nutty as hell, and kind of a blast.  I guess this episode gets a lot of crap from fans.  But I enjoyed the heck out of it.  The format of these Colin Baker stories (two 45 min episodes) is interesting.  It gives more time to tell the story before having to have a cliffhanger ending.  But it also does mean there’s occasional padding.  But I’ve definitely warmed up to Colin Baker, and I like Peri, even though she’s a bit annoying in the voice department, and this episode give her little to work with.

Beyond the Black Rainbow:  “I know who I am.  That’s what gives me my confidence…And my power.”  Right out of the gate, this feels like something crawled out of the David Cronenberg/John Carpenter corner of the early 80s, with more than a dash of post-60s utopian disappointment.  With a lead actor who seems like Patrick Bateman’s angrier brother, and some crazy, throbbing electronica, this psychic awakening movie is surreal, visually interesting, and very unsettling.  I think one lesson learned is ‘drugs are bad, m-kay.’  The ending breaks down a bit, but otherwise, this is a pretty darned odd, but fascinating flick.

Solomon Kane:  Surprisingly not bad, this adaptation of Robert E. Howard’s religious zealot adventurer captures some of the spirit, if little of the detail.  It’s a beautiful film, and feels like a modern day Hammer Horror (without the boobs).  I’d have liked a story that drew a bit more on the original tales, but it wasn’t bad.  Really, the only weak point is the finale, which feels a bit too tidy (what goes around, comes around).  Well, and I’d have liked to see him adventuring in Africa.  Still, when one considers the awfulness of the most recent Conan fiasco, Howard fans can at least take heart in knowing someone out there didn’t acquire the rights for Solomon Kane just so they could take a cinematic crap all over the character.

Iron Sky:  “I’m getting the sense there’s a lot about Nazis you don’t know.”  This has some very, very funny bits.  But it doesn’t really live up to the promise of the premise.  There’s some awkward racial humor, and ham-fisted political ‘satire’ (the Sarah Palin stuff was just too obvious).  But the male model/astronaut and the naïve Nazi girl who take on an evil empire are kind of fun, and generally their scenes together are the best in the film.  It’s got pretty good effects.  I just wish the writing was a bit more consistent.  Either take the crazy premise and run with it as far as it would go, or revel in the weirdness and be more funny (see: FDR: American Badass).

Premium Rush:  “Breaks are death.”  Enter the magical, mystical world of the bike messenger; thrill junkies who live outside the world of stuffed shirts and neck ties.  These Zen masters are rebels who live on the edge, and they might just take it to the limit.  These street knights will do anything for justice, and to look out for other bike messengers (it’s like a brotherhood, man).  Though the film looks like it was released in 2012, spiritually it’s right out of the 80s.  If only it ended at a dance off or a concert.  Totally silly (more so because everyone takes it so seriously), but fun.

Take it to the limit!!!

    And that’s really about it.  Couldn’t even get a trip to the movies going this week.  99% of my friends are in retail, so this time of year is even less conducive to having a social life than usual.

-Matt