Some ruminations on sword-and-sorcery’s slide into Grimdark

Sword-and-sorcery continues to show stirrings, and life. Outlets like Tales from the Magician’s Skull, DMR Books, new projects like Whetstone, New Edge, etc., are publishing new authors and new stories that embrace its old forms and conventions. Obviously the genre ain’t what it used to be circa 1970, but who knows what the future may hold for us aging diehards.

I speculate on some of the reasons why S&S died off in Flame and Crimson (which, by the way, just surpassed 100 ratings on Amazon—thank you to everyone who took the time to rate or review the book, as these help with visibility in some arcane, Amazon protected manner). I won’t rehash them all here, they are available in the book.

What I haven’t written as much about is why Grimdark filled the void, what makes that genre popular with modern readers, and what we might have to learn from this transition.

First, I am of the opinion that Grimdark is the spiritual successor to S&S. One of them, at least. I agree with the main thrust of this article by John Fultz. S&S has many spiritual successors, from heavy metal bands to video games to Dungeons and Dragons. But in terms of literature, the works of Richard Morgan, Joe Abercrombie, and George R.R. Martin, bear some of the hallmarks of S&S, while also being something markedly different. 

I believe this occurred as part of a natural evolution within S&S, with some things gained, others lost. As occurs during the general course of all progress.

First, I think this shift mirrored a broader cultural change. If we accept that Grimdark is marked by graphic depictions of violence, as well as a bleak/everyone is shit/might is right outlook (grossly simplified), then we can see what was acceptable in the 1950s-early 70s was different than what we saw in the popular culture in the 1990s and into today. Heavy metal was born in 1970 with the gloom and doom of Black Sabbath, before Judas Priest and Iron Maiden, then Metallica and Megadeth and Slayer, took the form to 11, giving the hard rock of the late 60s/early 70s a much harder, darker, aggressive edge. Popular westerns went from the tough but heroic John Wayne to the spaghettis of Clint Eastwood, reaching a culmination in Unforgiven that essentially deconstructed the genre and cast the “hero” in a very different light. War films gave us Platoon instead of The Longest Day. Frank depictions of sexuality also became acceptable. Essentially “the culture” decided this shift, artists and directors and musicians needed to break norms and explore new territories to keep their visions fresh and original. It’s a natural process, the way art always evolves. But things are lost, old forms abandoned along the way. S&S was a casualty.

I also think the ascendance of Grimdark mirrored a change in publishing trends. Grimdark borrowed from high/epic fantasy in form and length, and with its emphasis on world-building. This aspect is less appealing to me, for the most part (I love Tolkien, but I think very few if any authors have done the world-building aspect of Tolkien as well). But it seems many fantasy readers love getting lost in worlds and so gravitate toward multi-volume series. I won’t argue with that impulse, though I think a really good writer can accomplish that with few words and deft sketches of detail. Trilogies and stretched-out stories offer a far more reliable and lucrative business model for publishers and authors. But less cynically they also allow for greater character development, a thought which struck me during a recent read of Abercrombie’s The Blade Itself (Glokta and Logen Ninefingers and Jezal all feel very real, and three-dimensional, as we consistently read/hear what they are thinking). Again, some like this aspect of fiction, some don’t. S&S can do this, and has, albeit across multiple stories (see Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser), but it’s not a typical hallmark of the subgenre. But readers seem to want that, hence our fascination with origin stories, identification with characters "like us" rather than larger-than-life or abstract heroes, etc.

The general cultural trend of amplified violence and post-Vietnam war-weariness led to grittier literary material like David Gemmell’s Legend and Glen Cook’s The Black Company. Before Martin gave it full life with A Game of Thrones and his multivolume A Song of Ice and Fire, and Joe Abercrombie picked up the torch with The First Law trilogy. And we have what we have today in Grimdark, a sort of mash-up of S&S and epic fantasy and other influences.

Grimdark’s ascendance doesn’t mean we can’t have S&S too, with its greater emphasis on the short form, wonder and weirdness, and less emphasis on world building and cast of characters stories. But whether it will become commercially viable again remains to be seen. Baen is about to give it a shot with its signing of Howard Andrew Jones, and Titan Books set to publish a new Conan novel. 

Skulls, crusaders, and all things esoteric: Meeting up with Tom Barber

Our annual week vacation at our family camp in Andover, NH afforded me the opportunity to again spend a few hours hanging out with the man, the myth... Tom Barber. This was my third meetup with the classic S&S and science fiction illustrator, and as always it was time well spent with a one-of-a-kind, all around good dude. We hung out in the detached studio behind his house to escape the hot sun, and it was a place of wonders.

Tom hasn't done a lot of work of late, but did show me an incredible album cover he painted for a heavy metal band out on the west coast. They were very happy with the end product, buying the original and all the licensing rights, and they should be (it was an image of a faceless apparition, chains dangling, hands grasping. Could have made the cover of any Zebra paperback in the 1970s. I hope we see it online soon). He also told me he sold three paintings to the owners of a development company that is building some high-end condos in the neighboring city of Franklin.

This time I got to meet his significant other, Terri. Tom broke out an old tape of a band he once hung out with, Harlequin. Very cool, 70s hard rock/proggy/proto heavy metal stuff, epic sound (I don't believe it's the Canadian band that turns up first in Google... might be wrong though). Tom painted a wonderful picture of the lead singer in renaissance garb back in the day and plans to ship the painting out. 

He also showed me some of his old artwork that he did for Amazing Science Fiction, and some much more recent work for Amazing Stories, as well as an unrelated work in progress. Pictures below. We chatted about all kinds of stuff, including Vikings (Tom is a fan of The Last Kingdom Netflix series; which I haven't seen yet; I recommended he watch The Northman film) and all things esoteric. It was cool to see an old cover of the Andrew Offutt Cormac Mac Art novel The Undying Wizard on his wall, as Barber is a huge fan of the talented Jeffrey Catherine Jones. He left me with a copy of The Lucifer Principle. I plan to read it.

Again if you are interested in obtaining any of Tom's paintings this is only a fraction of what he has for sale. Hit me up and I'll share his email address.

Literary freedom: My stance, and an explanation

Literary freedom is my credo. With very few exceptions, I think you should be able to write whatever you want.

What does this look like in practice? It means that 99% of the time, people will use this sacred right to create stories or write essays or draw pictures about rocketships and rayguns, spies and intrigue, or knights and swords, and life is good.

But it also means that, 1% of the time, someone will write a story that someone will object to, and all hell will break loose.

For example, let’s say you want to write a spy story with a protagonist who is a sexist, i.e., an old school James Bond-type who has dalliances with women that later are dropped unceremoniously out of the picture after a night of passion. Something that harkens back to an older age.

Or, let’s say, you want to want to write a sword-and-sorcery story with a powerful, gay, female protagonist who kicks ass, and smashes jerky men’s faces in. Then she gets the girl at the end. Something that defies or upends old genre conventions.

Should you not be allowed to write that character? Some readers may be offended.

My position? Fuck no. Have at it.

Let me provide an analogy for someone who thinks I’m just defending S&S. I am of course, but I have no problem defending other genres that I have no interest in, because literary freedom is my credo.

Romance is a billion dollar industry. 84% of its 29+ million readers are women.

But as I understand it, some romance caters to stereotypes, because that’s what some of its readers want. We know what they are. Shirtless buff dudes, handsome, full set of hair. Great lovers. Flush with cash. Hearts of gold. 

Now, were I more sensitive, I might say, I’m offended by the depiction of men in some of these stories. These are standards I don’t live up to. I wish I were more buff, and wealthy, and my hard heart was softer.

Are these stereotypes harmful to men? Some might say yes.

Personally, I don’t find it harmful, but mostly, I don’t care, and if someone wants to read it, have at it. Moreover, I think reading a book, (almost) any book, is superior than consuming passive entertainment. So please do read your romance novels, if you love them. Even the trashy ones.

I’ll be over here reading my trash S&S, with the barbarian who throws the gal over his shoulder after hacking through hordes of Picts. And we’re all happy.

I do think psychological harm is a thing, but I also think it’s far too subjective to do anything with. Something that you find hurtful will not be hurtful for me, and vice-versa. Rather than seek to eliminate anything potentially offensive, and sacrifice artistic freedoms, or place neutering guardrails on fiction, my preference is, leave it in, and buyer beware. I’m also of the opinion that you shouldn’t deliberately be a dick, and write fiction designed to needlessly provoke people. But again, your definition of a dick or edgelord will always differ from mine. So again, I’m erring on the side of freedom of expression.

To minimize offense, I’m also perfectly OK with warning labels. “Warning: Old Pulp sensibilities” on a cover of a book works for me. I finally got to watching Stranger Things season one (it’s good BTW), and every episode starts with a list of things in it that you might find harmful. Violence, swearing, smoking. I’m fine with this approach. It’s an elegant way around a thorny problem. We can keep in the stuff of that period—yeah smoking was incredibly prevalent in the 1980s—by letting you know in advance that it’s coming. Feel free to turn it off if you have impressionable young kids. Us adults can make up our own minds.

This is where I fall. YMMV--and I respect that, and you.

If you think this stance makes me a closeted bigot defending racism, sexism, etc., or “betraying sword-and-sorcery sensibilities” by not gatekeeping, that’s your prerogative. You don’t know me, or what I believe in, how I vote, etc. I don’t exist to make you, or the world happy. Not my job. I’d rather spend my time following my bliss, wherever that leads me. I am aware that this attitude may not make me welcome in some communities, may keep me out of some anthologies, etc, whatever.

My advice: Follow your heart, read what you love, support what you believe in. Vote with your dollars.

I’m going to answer a few questions that naturally arise with the stance of literary freedom.

Am I saying you can write blatantly, provocatively racist shit? I really wish you wouldn’t, as you’re hurting yourself, other people, and the communities in which you work. Have at it, but if you want to be an asshole, know that the market will decide, the public will have its say, and you’ll be out your commercial career. I also don’t think this is a wholesale problem, in fiction.

Do I think you can write literally whatever you want? The answer to this is no. I draw the line when writing promotes actual, physical/material, in the world harm. For example, a how-to manual for child abduction, or instructions for breeding Anthrax in your basement and shipping it undetected to your local politician. Please don’t write these things. I'd be OK with someone dropping the ban-hammer.

But as for fiction? My tolerance is way higher. 

I’m not interested in adjudicating edge cases or arguing who is the club because of what they write. I’d rather spend my time in a positive manner, for example discussing good stories and why they work. Writing about interesting literary tropes, styles, and historical trends. And yes, even keeping old works of dead authors alive, because the positive things they bring to the table far outweigh the negative. I’m glad to see publishers reprinting old pulp stories. Add a helpful introduction that contextualizes the racism and sexism, or a warning label, and then let the reader decide.

It’s fruitless to codify what every “ism” means and what is acceptable vs. non-acceptable. Any definition that boils down to “whatever I think is racist/sexist/ageist” etc. is untenable, beyond slippery slope. A slope that plunges you off the side of Mount Everest to a fiery doom. Trying to do so kills communities from infighting, ends careers for authors who make inadvertent mistakes. Take a glance at the Hugos and you will see a community eating itself from the inside out.

This is a thorny problem to write about, primarily because it is aligned with political thought, and politics inevitably make their way in. Authorial freedom naturally aligns with the likes of John Locke, and the exaltation of the individual; writing with group unity in mind strikes me as Rousseau-ian, where our rights are indistinguishable from the cohesion of the state. But, because this argument comes up again and again in every community I frequent, I thought it worth clarifying my own thoughts, and produce something I can point to, when the argument inevitably comes up for the 4000th time. 

In summary: Write what you want. 

This makes me happy

Typically when you put “sword-and-sorcery” into a search engine (I do this from time-to-time, being a glutton for punishment) the results are discouraging. Usually you see a board game, a bad 80s film, or generic YA fantasy where someone well-meaning has used the term to describe their new book about princesses and unicorns.

But sometimes, you get returns like this.

I did not know musicians were still putting out tapes. Or that anyone was still manufacturing them, for that matter. But when you couple dinosaur media with S&S, I’m in. 

I’ve been wondering where the new metal bands are these days. Better step up my Twitter game. 

The Blade Itself

Nice and stabby

Obvious sword-and-sorcery fan here but recently I was moved to pick up an S&S adjacent work, the first in The First Law trilogy, The Blade Itself. I guess its Grimdark, as its source is Lord Grimdark himself, Joe Abercrombie. Finished it this week and was more than engaged and hooked enough where I’ll be picking up the second volume in the trilogy, Before They Are Hanged. 

Short review: It is quite good. Abercrombie can write.

If I’m being honest, one of sword-and-sorcery’s features is also at times a drawback. Typically its written in the short form, either short stories or novellas. The emphasis is on the story, the plot and setting, and the action, the clash of blade against weird magic. All great, but this often leaves little room for characterization. There just isn’t enough time to give characters the opportunity to breathe. 

(Note I am saying typically; and there are many memorable S&S characters, but you don’t really get to know Conan or Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser until you’ve read them across multiple stories).

The Blade Itself is 527 pages and introduces a large cast of characters, albeit with most of its focus on three—scarred veteran and legend of battles and duels Logen Ninefingers, the dreaded, merciless Inquisitor Sand dan Glokta, and the young upstart fencer Jezal dan Luther. I really like all three of these dudes, and that is a miracle in and of itself. Dialogue and character-building, delivered with a strong narrative voice, are what make Abercrombie something special. And his fight scenes kick ass, too. He also knows how to break the grimness with humor; I don’t find his stuff unrelentingly bleak, as for example I did reading Richard Morgan’s The Steel Remains, or George R.R. Martin. The tight-ish focus on Logen, Glokta, and Jezal keeps the narrative pace moving, instead of sprawling out too much as epic fantasy often does.

Per this entry on his website Abercrombie read a fair bit of high/epic fantasy in his teenage years but got out for much the same reasons I did. Bloat, sameness, cheesiness. He branched out into other literature. And then had his mind blown by A Song of Ice and Fire (as I did, but by then I had already discovered S&S). A Game of Thrones clearly influenced his writing, and led directly to The First Law trilogy and a pretty remarkable career of his own.

(By the way re-reading my old post on A Game of Thrones in 2007 was a hoot; I predicted Martin was on pace to finish his series by… 2018. Oops. Still waiting).

This is the second time I’ve dipped into Abercrombie (not counting a short story or two along the way) and yeah, enjoying the trip.

Necropolis, Manilla Road

In the crypts of Atlantean kings, I found what I was looking for

If I had to pick my top three sword-and-sorcery inspired metal bands, I'd go: Manowar, Eternal Champion, and Manilla Road. In no particular order.

Come to think of it, Manilla Road is to metal what sword-and-sorcery is to fantasy literature. On the periphery. Rough around the edges. Not to everyone's tastes. Largely out of date these days, near forgotten by the mainstream. But those who get it, get it.

Every sword-and-sorcery collection would be improved with a necropolis. And every metal fan's Spotify playlist would be improved with this song.

Listen, I know Mark Shelton (RIP) sounds a bit like Skeletor, but he grows on you. And the guitar work on this one is impeccable. 

Come to think of it, the artwork on the cover of Crystal Logic (1983) looks like it could be on a 70s S&S fanzine. Nice job Jon Jinks (?)

TGIF. Enjoy.

S&S updates: Dunsany, New Edge, book deals, and a fine response to a troubling essay

Hail to the King of Dreams, baby.

A roundup of recent-ish news and updates on the sacred genre.

My most recent essay for Tales from the Magician’s Skull is up, a piece on fantasy in the era of Lord Dunsany. You can read that here. I’ve recently been digging into a short, informal, but interesting quasi-biography by Hazel Littlefield (at right), who visited Dunsany in his home country and later hosted him late in his life during a trip to the United States. “Fantasy” was a different country back then, wilder and with almost no borders and boundaries, not the oft-discussed, greased publishing machine with its various subgenres and conventions that we have today. I get into a little bit of that in the essay, restrained a bit as TftMS has a hard-ish cap of around 1,000 words.

New Edge, a new S&S digital magazine headed up by Oliver Brackenbury of the “So I’m Writing a Novel” podcast, is now open for registration. The first issue (#0) is free and I believe the plan is to gauge interest for a paid ‘zine, supporting new authors and artists. Recently I agreed to write an essay on the outsider trope in S&S for this debut issue (got to get cracking on that).

Not “new” news, but new-ish to me, is the forthcoming Conan novel Blood of the Serpent, a prequel to “Red Nails” now available for pre-order. I have not read anything by author S.M. Stirling, but after a recent conversation with Deuce Richardson I feel confident that he’s a solid choice for this novel. Stirling has a reputation as a good writer with a big imagination and knows REH inside and out. Time will tell. I hope it’s better than the average novel in the TOR line.

Baen signs Howard Andrew Jones to a five-book deal. I’m glad to see a publisher with some budget and clout invest in S&S, and HAJ is a good author to get behind. I have enjoyed his The Desert of Souls and some of his short fiction in Tales from the Magician’s Skull, and these books will feature his exiled general Hanuvar. Let’s hope this is just the tip of the spear for a continued S&S revival.

I have yet to say anything on the new Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, of which we’ve now seen a couple trailers (or maybe “teaser trailers”?). I’ve been underwhelmed at the generic, CGI-heavy glop I’ve seen to date. The core problem is Amazon’s lack of rights to Tolkien’s actual material. A large, multi-interest conglomeration does not possess Tolkien’s soul and vision, his unique time-and-place honed brilliance with languages, and love and care for his creation. The odds are this will disappoint. The Jackson LOTR films worked because they largely stuck to the source material, and his Hobbit films flopped when they deviated from the book. Amazon has precious little rights to Tolkien’s source material. What we really need is Robert Eggers directing The Children of Hurin.

Finally, I wanted to point folks in the direction of this lengthy but fine post by Jason Ray Carney, rebutting a recent article which made the case that sword-and-sorcery needs to be updated for a modern audience (part of a natural process of discernment), and its old works discarded. We all engage in the process of discernment; it’s why we read Shakespeare instead of instruction manuals, and admire and preserve the Sistine Chapel instead of a child’s crayon drawings. Discernment helps explain why we might love the Chronicles of Narnia or the Chronicles of Prydain as a child, but choose not to read them as adults; though they might still be good books, we’ve developed a more refined palate for adult prose styles or complicated storylines and themes. Likewise, through a process of discernment, many readers have moved away from S&S over the years. But, personal discernment strikes me as very different than a general call to discard literature that someone, somewhere finds problematic. When reading old pulp or pulp-inspired S&S of the 60s-80s, my advice remains consistent: Detach and apply historical context, or as Carney suggests, adopt an egalitarian attitude of “chronopolitanism.” We can like old and new things, simultaneously. We can enjoy old barbaric works as entertainment without becoming barbarians ourselves. 

In summary; If this “new edge” movement embraces the likes of Renegade Swords and Schuyler Hernstrom alongside the likes of the Whetstone crew and Howard Andrew Jones, etc., I’m in. If it draws lines based on adherence to certain political views, or places bounds on artistic freedoms, I’m out.

Master of Puppets

Metal Friday comes a day late, as I'm checking back in after a four-day business trip to Houston TX.

This week highlights an old favorite from 1986, Metallica's "Master of Puppets," off the album of the same name.

Any fans of Rick Beato out there? Beato is a musician with an informative, engaging Youtube channel where he breaks down/recreates some of the great classic rock songs, with occasional forays into metal and grunge and other related genres. Here he offers an analysis of the construction of MOP in typical nerdy but fun Beato style; worth the watch:

Master of Puppets was recently given new life due to its appearance in the final episode of season 4 of Stranger Things, which gave it a massive boost and moved it to the top of Spotify downloads and the like. Hey, if this is what it takes to get Gen Y into metal, bring it on. You'd think I be a fan of the show with the obvious crossover appeal (1980s, D&D, general fantastic subject material) but have yet to watch an episode. My older daughter Hannah, a raging fan, is ready to kill me and I owe it to her to watch it. 

I think I'll take her up on it, but only if we can take the journey together. I doubt she'd take much convincing.

Full song; this thing rips as much as it did in 1986. Immortal. RIP Cliff Burton:

LORDS OF DESTRUCTION! A review of Death Dealer book 2

If you're looking for sword-and-sorcery turned up to 11--but not in a particularly good way--look no further than James Silke's Death Dealer series, the second volume of which I've reviewed over at the blog of DMR Books, so you don't have to. Read it here, if you dare.

To give you an example of some the passages in all their ridiculously awful but simultaneously glorious style, here is a screen shot. 

Yes, this actually says:

The nymph herself, of course, was a total surprise. Goddesses were supposed to be regal, and formal, and robed in heavy velvets. But this one was housed in the body of a coltish savage, and there was enough delicious mischief behind her bright eyes to make sin look like the only endeavor worthy of life's trials and tribulations. If anyone doubted this, her brazen nudity would end the argument before it started, and unbuckle your belt as well.

Wild Child, W.A.S.P.

I'm a wild child, come and love me
I want you
My heart's in exile I need you to touch me
Cause I want what you do

I was never a big W.A.S.P. fan, even back in the day when they had their day as a heavy hair metal/shock rock band, tearing out of the Los Angeles heavy metal scene like a bunch of leather-clad bikers.

But this one? 1985's Wild Child? Yeah, big fan.

Simple, great energy, propulsive, outstanding guitar tone. Badass lyrics. Basically everything I want in this type of song. 

As an aside, whomever made this video probably deserves a medal of freedom or something. Outstanding work here, extraordinary visuals to supplement the kick-ass vibe of this tune.

Post vacation, back in the saddle again

A couple shots of Bar Harbor

There are the shores of Faëry

with their moonlit pebbled strand

whose foam is silver music

on the opalescent floor

beyond the great sea-shadows

on the marches of the sand

that stretches on for ever

to the dragonheaded door,

the gateway of the Moon,

beyond Taniquetil

in Valinor.

--from “The Shores of Faëry,” J.R.R. Tolkien

Last week I took a vacation with family and friends to scenic Bar Harbor on the beautiful coastline of Maine. Highly recommended. Sandwiched between the Atlantic Ocean and the 47,000 acres of Acadia National Park, it’s a bit of paradise on earth. Worth going to at least once in your lifetime, regardless of your proximity to New England.

This was my first time off in 2022, save for a hectic few days in between a job change, and was sorely needed time to disconnect and just be. We followed that up with a 4th of July weekend up to the family lake house in NH, culminating with a friend touching off a wicked black powder cannon to celebrate Independence Day. That’s what you call ending things with a bang, one that I’m still feeling in my sternum.

It’s over now, but I’m finding myself glad to be back home in and familiar surroundings and the old comfortable routine.

A few swordly-and-sorcerous updates.

Man, there are some good new S&S podcast episodes I’ve gotten caught up on.

The Cromcast published nine episodes of panel sessions, academic paper readings, and casual conversations from the recent Robert E. Howard Days in Cross Plains, TX. Again I’m reminded of how much I missed by not attending, and how I’m publicly vowing to attend in 2023 (I’m writing this here again to make sure I hold my own feet to the fire—the more I write this the harder it becomes to back out without completely losing face and looking like an asshole). I enjoyed them all but in particular the sessions on Robert E. Howard in 1932, the 40-year remembrance of Conan the Barbarian by Paul Sammon, and the Glenn Lord Symposium papers. I was tickled to hear my name mentioned in two of the sessions, in particular the citation of Flame and Crimson by an academic presenting a paper in the Glenn Lord Symposium, on Charles Hoffman's "Conan the Existential." It’s still hard to believe I won a Venarium award, as I don’t consider myself a particularly deep or notable scholar of Robert E. Howard. Just a hardcore fan who happens to write a lot about his works and their obvious overlap with sword-and-sorcery.

So I’m Writing a Novel has a great episode out, part 1 of a 2-part interview with second age sword-and-sorcery author David C. Smith of Oron and Red Sonja fame. Some great nuggets in here about Smith’s origin story as an author, the importance of fanzines in cultivating and encouraging writers in the 1970s, and the general S&S publishing scene of the mid-late 70s. Plus some info on the rumored but unpublished (and apparently never written, or at least never finished) Karl Edward Wagner Bran Mak Morn novel Queen of the Night.

While I was away I managed to read the second Death Dealer novel by James Silke, Lords of Destruction. This was… not very good. Some chapters/pieces were fun, even laugh out loud, so it delivered some entertainment value, but it reads like an unintentional parody of S&S. It’s representative of the late stage, bloated barbarian S&S that played a role in the genre’s downfall in the early 1980s. I’ll get a review up soon.

Top Gun: Maverick, a review

From Mustangs to modernity... looking forward, and back.

I had more fun watching Top Gun: Maverick than I had any right to.

I trekked to the theater the other night to catch a viewing and am so glad I did. You could not wipe the grin off my face. Not from the moment Tom Cruise delivered a classy, simple, direct, pre-movie thank you message to the audience, to the end credits, where I said to myself, damn, that was fun.

This film was just what I needed at the moment, and I think a lot of Americans did as well.

I cannot begin to express how much I enjoyed the absence of political messages. The cast is diverse, but naturally so. There is no demoralizing, divisive moralizing. No 50 shades of gray, everyone is shit including the heroes-type messages. 

And yet, this film has a heart, and more complexity than the original. It is pro-American but without being jingoistic. Just optimistic. 

Optimism … remember that? We all could use some of that right now, in this torrent of daily negative news, and divisive nastiness. The film delivers it. I suspect it’s part of the reason for its smashing box office success. A needed message, at the right time.

Top Gun: Maverick could have gone in a different direction. The broad lines of the plot are that the Navy calls upon an aging Cruise/Maverick to instruct a group of young pilots, who are needed to fly a dangerous, low altitude bombing mission to destroy a nuclear enrichment plant. This naturally raises some questions. Who is the country that wants to enrich uranium? Shouldn’t a sovereign country have this right? Why should the U.S. be the world’s police? Etc.

The film avoids asking them.

These are fine questions … but they don’t belong in a film like this, which served a different purpose. That Top Gun: Maverick doesn’t dwell on them not make it a bad film. Just a film with a different lens. You can say that this simplicity is a fault, but I disagree.

So, is this just a simple, dumb action film? Surprisingly, no. It is a commentary on aging gracefully. Letting go of the need to control everything, and accepting help—which is not a weakness, but rather a sign of growth and maturity. Tom Cruise’s character was finally able to do this, completing an arc which began in the first film when he famously abandoned his wingman.

I loved the commentary on the role of humans in an increasingly technological age. The drone revolution is coming, unmanned planes are on the horizon. We can all see this, and wonder what it will mean. But as Cruise says in the film—that time ain’t yet. Bravery and ambition still have a place, people have a role to play in the fortunes of the world. You can feel that same sentiment at a meta level, in the film goer experience too. Leaving your house and watching a movie on a big screen with a group of people in all their messiness, still has value, still delivers something that a solitary Netflix viewing on a computer cannot replicate.

Top Gun: Maverick acknowledges that the world has changed in the last 35 years, and that more changes are on the horizon, but also acknowledges there is still value in the old ways. If that makes the film conservative on some level, then so be it. But without any tradition, shorn of our old stories, what do we have? There is value in looking forward, and back.

I’m not afraid to admit that I enjoy nostalgia. I understand it can be manipulative, even harmful if the intent is to obscure the truth. In large, heavy doses it becomes cloying, even sickening, like eating too much sugar. This movie struck the right balance. A love and respect for the original film, many nostalgic callbacks and references but not obnoxious.

It is far-fetched? Of course. [MINOR SPOILER ALERT] When Cruise and Goose’s son find a fueled up, fully operating enemy F-14 to effect their escape, it nearly broke the third wall for me. Nearly, but not quite. And hell, was it ever fun.

Speaking of fun… the jets are a marvel, but then again I'm smack-dab in the target audience. My dad used to take me to air shows as a kid and I have seen the Thunderbirds and Blue Angels fly. I have seen F-14s and F-16s and F-18s up close, felt the roar of their afterburners in my chest. I’ve been to the Air Force National Museum in Dayton, OH. I have a deep respect for military aircraft. Fighter jets are impressive, their raw power and maneuverability. And in Top Gun the F-18 is on full, glorious display. The film contains very little CGI compared to most modern action films and as a result felt entirely convincing. The stunts are real, performed in real planes flown by highly skilled pilots with the actors filmed in the same planes, experiencing the same G forces. 

This is one you should catch while it’s still in the theaters. The studio held this until the pandemic subsided and I can see why. The medium, the message, factored in the decision to get people back in the flesh in real theaters, enjoying the experience together. It worked, at least for this guy.

Whetstone #5: A review

Where do new sword-and-sorcery authors go to test their mettle in the arena, seeking glory (or at least, companionship with fellow brothers and sisters-in-arms)? And where might you find the occasional veteran belly up to the bar, with a rousing tale to add to the cacophony of combat?

Why, in the pages of Whetstone, the amateur journal of sword-and-sorcery.

I just finished reading Whetstone #5 and wanted to share a few impressions.

First of all, look at the cover of this thing. This is as close to perfect as it gets. While you could say it leaves you with the wrong impression—Whetstone is not an OSR gaming publication—it conveys what the contents are all about—nostalgia for an old(er) subgenre of fantasy, given new life with new interpretations and new voices.

Editor Jason Ray Carney’s intro is worth reading. So many of us have spent much digital ink, arguably too much, trying to find some precise definition for sword-and-sorcery. At times it gets tedious--this coming from a guy who wrote a complete non-fiction treatment (as Arnold said in Conan the Destroyer, “Enough Talk!”)

Carney boils down S&S to a general feeling rather than specific tropes. This is as good as lens as any when analyzing the genre. Carney instead focuses on why we like S&S, which he identifies as its depiction of conflict, often against an amorphous threat that is simultaneously tangible and supernatural, and possibly representational or symbolic:

What do we feel when we imagine a brutalized sword and sorcery writer laughing at the stars? What do we feel when we read about a mere mortal--an ephemeral form--violently confronting eternity, the cosmos, the infinite in all its eternal strangeness? Why are sword and sorcery writers obsessively drawn to their primary theme: the unresolved antagonism between the natural and the supernatural? The profane and the sacred? The individual and the cosmos?

On to the contents.

Reviewing collections of short stories by multiple authors is tricky. Attempting to review 20 stories one-by-one is folly, not something I have the time to do, and the result would be brief unhelpful encapsulations. The stories are all very short, as the submission guidelines call for stories between 1500-2500 words, no more no less. So even if they are not to your taste, they pass quickly.

This is an amateur magazine so don’t go into it expecting to read peak Robert E. Howard, Clark Ashton Smith, Manly Wade Wellman, or even some of the better modern authors like Schuyler Hernstrom. A couple of the writers have recognized names and bodies of work, but most are cutting their teeth. As a whole, almost all the stories were entertaining (some were deliberate and welcomed tongue-in-cheek, for example the charming yet gory “The Riddle of Spice”). I detected some obvious Conan the Barbarian (film) influence, Howard, Smith, and Fritz Leiber and Michael Moorcock notes and influences in many of the stories. Gladiatorial pits feature prominently, as do stories of vengeance. Some stories feel like unfinished parts of a bigger story, interludes or chapters. There are some recurring heroes from previous issues of Whetstone, old champions making their returns to the ring.

Naturally I liked some more than others and wanted to call out a few highlights.

I enjoyed T.A. Markitan’s “Just Desserts,” specifically for the tone it strikes, and its inventiveness: A warrior accompanied by a playful ghost, and a village with dark secrets. It’s well-conceived, and well-executed, a cascade of weird elements in a tightly-plotted little gem of a story with a fun reveal at the end.

Gregory D. Mele’s “Salt Tears” deftly sketches an island culture and customs and tells a compelling little story of muted heroism and regret. He does a fine job making a foil, Bembe, both a bastard and somewhat sympathetic. It also comes to a satisfying, thoughtful conclusion. Well done stuff.

Chuck Clark’s “Doors” leaves you wanting more of his recurring character Turkael, who is a hero but with a mysterious past, one of a group of faceless men with crystal bones and uncanny swords. It feels like you’ve been dropped into a larger story, both for better and for worse, but more of this character is revealed in previous issues and I expect future installments of his story will be coming.

Nathaniel Webb’s “The Smoke Ship” has possibly the best depiction of battle in the issue (the last story in the collection might have it beat), a weird and ghostly sea battle that feels desperate and real, and a nice blend of the historical and mysterious.

I really enjoyed Cora Buhlert’s “Village of the Unavenged Dead.” It reads like Clark Ashton Smith but without the baroque language. There is a detached air to the writing, almost a fairytale feel, yet it's a fast-moving story of revenge with sympathetic protagonist and a satisfying resolution. The story could have gone ultra-dark but Buhlert reins it in nicely.

Whetstone #5 concludes with a tale by polished veteran of the craft, Scott Oden’s “At the Gate of Bone.” This story reminded me very much of David Gemmell or Steven Pressfield, a grizzled warrior relaying an old tale of a valiant but doomed last stand against an overwhelming horde. Orcs and badass horn-helmed warlords and spilled viscera. Really good stuff if you like that sort of thing.

What are you waiting for? Whetstone is free; test its steel and see if it’s to your liking.

A lucky man this Father's Day

The Murphy Clan.

These tasted as good as they look.

My old man is 78 years old and not in the best of health, but today he was doing OK and so I got to spend a few hours with him on Father's Day.

We drank a couple beers in the driveway and ate some pretty good ribs I spent the day smoking. It was overcast and cool, perfect weather to sit outside and shoot the shit.

One story I don't believe I ever relayed here: When I was a boy my dad read to my brother and I Jack London's "The Call of the Wild." We were very young, I was no more than 7 or 8. It's probably unheard of these days to read something that old and raw and primitive and violent to children, but I loved every page of it, and am quite certain it fueled my love of the fantastic. 

The t-shirt I'm wearing in this picture above was purchased in Ireland in 2007, during a trip I got to take with my old man. Ireland has a Murphy's Pub? Who knew. 

Thanks for everything Dad. Happy Father's Day dude. Love you.

Lin Carter: Enthusiast of the Fantastic

My latest post for the blog of Tales from the Magician's Skull is up: Lin Carter: Enthusiast of the Fantastic.

The world needs more Lin Carters: Enthusiasts who love sword-and-sorcery and sword-and-planet and wear that passion on their sleeve.

On staying in and weaving out of reading lanes, and Stephen King’s Christine

Feel the fury, of a possessed 1958 Plymouth Fury

My reading often keeps me in a well-worn, familiar travel lane. 

That lane is, broadly, fantasy. Sword-and-sorcery being the sweet spot.

Adjacent lanes are horror, SF, and adventure fiction/historical fiction.

I also read a lot of non-fiction—some for work, some for self-improvement, but also stuff like WWII history, true crime, maritime disasters. I put non-fiction in a separate category. I read it with a destination in mind, getting things done for important reasons, like learning a new skill. Think airline business travel. As opposed to fiction which (ideally) is like getting behind the wheel of a 1969 Chevelle SS and hitting the gas.

Come to think of it, sword-and-sorcery is like a 1960s/70s muscle car. Loud, powerful, a little dangerous. Like a vintage muscle car I enjoy its aesthetics, how it performs. It has its drawbacks. It’s not always safe, or reliable. It has poor gas mileage. But, when its Robert E. Howard, or Fritz Leiber, or Poul Anderson, or Jack Vance, it’s pretty reliably fun, at least. Sometimes, more than that.

But occasionally I turn the wheel, to the left and right, and veer out of my reading lane. Once in a while I go off-roading, or change cars altogether.

The driving metaphors are coming freely/obnoxiously because right now I’m immersed in Stephen King’s Christine. I haven’t read this one in oh… 25 years? 30? I don’t know about you, but my mind is a sieve when it comes to retaining (most) details of books read long ago. So my memory of Christine is awful scant. The good news is, this 40-year-old book (published 1983) is almost new to me at this point.

Christine is quite good so far, very compelling. As King often is, especially his older stuff.

Anyways, the experience got me to thinking… what is my lane, and why do I stay in it? What causes me to drift, or swerve?

Underneath it’s all the same urge. To find great writing.

I place good, entertaining writing as the highest value in my fiction reading, regardless of what form it takes. Good writing is followed by interesting ideas. Third, but still important, are the comfortable, familiar tropes (swords, wizards, battles, magic, monsters). 

It’s rare to get all of these in the same spot. When it does occur, as with something like The Lord of the Rings, “Beyond the Black River,” or Watership Down, it’s a book or a story that I will cherish, and return to again and again.

Back to Christine. This book definitely checks the first two boxes. It’s out of my fantasy/S&S lane. But, it delivers with good writing that is just plain fun. It almost feels cozy, with its ability to put me back in a time (it’s set in 1978) that is pretty close to my youth. The nostalgia is nice.

And, it contains an interesting idea.

The idea is the dangerous transition to adulthood. That’s what Christine represents. She is the machine that kids inherit, at 16 or 17 or 18, that guides them into a different phase of life. Buying your first car is a rite of passage. It feels adult, but it also allows you to escape the confines of your home, or immediate neighborhood, and go places. Making the transition to adulthood is something we all must do, and not all of us make it (literally—some die on the roadways, and figuratively--some remain stuck in perpetual childhood or adolescence). 

That’s scary, and King skillfully handles this idea in Christine. As with this passage, my favorite so far:

By the time I had the mounted tire back in my trunk and had paid the guy two bucks for the job, the early evening light had become the fading purple of late evening. The shadow of each bush was long and velvety, and as I cruised slowly back up the street I saw the day’s last light streaming almost horizontally through the trash-littered space between the Arby’s and the bowling alley. That light, so much flooding gold, was nearly terrible in its strange, unexpected beauty.

I was surprised by a choking panic that climbed up in my throat like dry fire. It was the first time a feeling like that came over me that year—that long, strange year—but not the last. Yet it’s hard for me to explain, or even define. It had something to do with realizing that it was August 11, 1978, that I was going to be a senior in high school next month, and that when school started again it meant the end of a long, quiet phase of my life. I was getting ready to be a grown-up, and I saw that somehow—saw it for sure, for the first time in that lovely but somehow ancient spill of golden light flooding down the alleyway between a bowling alley and a roast beef joint. And I think I understood then that what really scares people about growing up is that you stop trying on the life-mask and start trying on another one. If being a kid is about learning how to live, then being a grown-up is about learning how to die.

I love that line, “end of a long, quiet phase of my life”… that so describes my early years, too. And King’s familiar, blue-collar details—the Arby’s, the bowling alley—make it feel real, and relatable.

I suspect King was remembering a similar scene from his past, that flood of golden light, and that realization. And channeling his own experiences of growing up, and making the difficult transition to adulthood.

Christine also has something of the tropes I like. A demonic, ghostly car. But, this comes third. A possessed car is kind of a dumb idea to be honest. King makes it work, because he has the first two elements down pat.

In summary, here’s what I like about fiction.

1. A great story that takes you to another place. When the author does so with tension, spooled out, building to a crescendo, maybe 2-3 times during the same book or story, I’ll read this book.
2. The interesting idea underneath.
3. The cool details, the paint and polish and shiny hood ornaments. Aka, the genre.

A bad story will miss on all three, or focus on one to the detriment of the others. You need balance. The worst is probably the story that aims at no. 3 and fails even at that. Think of the loud and dumb barbarian protagonist that apes Conan, or the splatterpunk horror author who copies King’s gruesome details but whose writing lacks heart or purpose, or the requisite skill.

So yeah, Christine is not sword-and-sorcery, but is very much in an adjacent lane of my reading tastes. It checks (most of) the boxes I enjoy. 

Now we’ll see if King can stick the landing—not his strongest suit.

Thune's Vision/Schuyler Hernstrom

I love this cover... weird and trippy, violence beneath, like the contents.

DMR Books/Dave Ritzlin has published my review of Thune's Vision, by Schuyler Hernstrom. Head over and give it a read; it's spoiler free but hopefully speaks to why I think so highly of it, and this author.

If you like sword-and-sorcery/sword-and-planet/weird fiction, and care as to whether it will survive in the current era, you should support good modern authors who practice it. Try this, or his The Eye of Sounnu. You won't be disappointed. In an age when Brandon Sanderson can net $41M on a kickstarter (seriously? what the fuck) we need to find a way to support sword-and-sorcery authors who can deliver great storytelling, and paint worlds, and make you think, in 1/4 of the real estate of most "fat fantasy."

Thune's Vision is now available for purchase on Amazon. I believe DMR will be reselling as well.

S&S updates: Scaling the walls of Venarium, and assorted essays

A couple updates from my corner of S&S fandom.

I’m psyched/pumped/jacked to announce that I was honored with the Venarium award from the Robert E. Howard Foundation, at the recent Robert E. Howard Days in Cross Plains, TX.

The Venarium is given to an emerging scholar in Robert E. Howard studies. Per the foundation, candidates must have recently begun making significant contributions to Howard scholarship through publications and/or presentations over the past few years.

I’ve been at this stuff since 2007, but really in two distinct phases. As you will see from the absence of posts from 2013-2019, I took a long “break” from blogging, writing essays, etc. to work on Flame and Crimson, and I believe the publication of the book, coupled with my recent re-investment in the blog, writing REH related material for The Dark Man, The Journal of American Culture, DMR/Goodman Games, etc., rendered me eligible. In a rare tie I shared the award with Willard M. Oliver. Congrats Will!

I’m honored, and doubly disappointed I could not be at Cross Plains to receive the award in person. I’ve already told my wife that I’m absolutely going next year, unless Russia decides to invade, or North America sinks Atlantis-like under the waves of the rising oceans. The theme next year I believe is the Weird Tales centennial (first issue 1923), which could make for some excellent panel sessions.

Congratulations to all the winners. I was particularly happy to see Jason M. Waltz win the Valusian award for his work as editor of Robert E. Howard Changed My Life, which I reviewed here on the blog, and Jason Ray Carney win the Costigan for his efforts editing Whetstone: Amateur Magazine of Pulp Sword and Sorcery. Both very worthy.

And a sincere thank you to the Robert E. Howard Foundation for hosting the awards and honoring the work of those who keep REH’s name alive.

In other news…

This week I have two essays scheduled for publication, for the two websites I presently write for.

Tomorrow I expect to see a review of Schuyler Hernstrom’s Thune’s Vision up on DMR Books. Spoiler alert: Loved it.

Friday I expect to see “Lin Carter: Enthusiast of the Fantastic” up on the site of Goodman Games/Tales from the Magician’s Skull. Carter was born this month in 1930 and passed away in 1988. My stance on him, while never close to negative, was perhaps ambivalent. It’s softened in recent years. I summarize his contributions as enthusiastic and influential editor and general spectator on the S&S scene in the 60s through the 80s, concluding that we need more Lin Carters these days.

I’ll link to both of those here when they appear.

Master of the Wind, Manowar

This was a no-brainer for Metal Friday after the passing of Ken Kelly. Much of passing and transitions in this one, solemnity and sorrow.

Fly away to a rainbow in the sky
Gold is at the end for each of us to find.
There the road begins where another one will end,
Here the four winds know who will break and who will bend
All to be the Master of the wind.

RIP Ken Kelly

When you get a Tweet from Joey DeMaio sending you off to the afterlife, you've done something right with your life, son.

RIP Ken Kelly, the man who married hard rock and metal with sword-and-sorcery. Like this, for example:

Read my tribute on the website of DMR Books.

(Other) stuff that got me into S&S: Rogues in the House leftovers

The RitH Army wants you!

Last night I guested on Rogues in the House, one of a handful of podcasts dedicated to all things sword-and-sorcery—or at least sword-and-sorcery adjacent. * The episode was on our origin stories, the events/media/incidents that set us down the path of sword-and-sorcery fandom and general lifelong nerdity.

This was my third guest appearance with the Rogues and as before, I had a blast. Co-hosts Matt John and Deane Geiken are great dudes, very easy to work with, and always run a good program. The show is up and you can listen here.

Even though we ran an hour and 38 minutes it was not enough time to cover all of the many childhood and adolescent influences that fueled my love of S&S. So, what follows is a more comprehensive list. I’m quite sure I’m missing a few, either forgotten to time or buried deep in my subconscious, driving urges I can no longer articulate. But this must suffice, for now.

These are the notes I was working off for the show so I’m leaving them as notes.

Toys including plastic medieval knights, little green army men, etc. Later Star Wars toys, D&D action figures, etc.

Saturday morning and after school cartoons particularly Thundarr the Barbarian and The Herculoids. Also Transformers, GI Joe, and of all things, the Gummi Bears (this became a running joke on the show).

Kids/adolescent books including The Hobbit, Fire-Hunter by Jim Kjelgaard, Sir Walter Scott's Ivanhoe, Monsters by Crestwood House, Monster Tales: Vampires, Werewolves and Things. The Chronicles of Prydain/Lloyd Alexander, Dragonlance, Susan Cooper’s Over Sea and Under Stone, the Narnia books, illustrated Crusades stories, etc. In hindsight I can see how I was being inevitably steered toward sword-and-sorcery by consuming its various components; historical elements, grit and danger, monsters, tough and resourceful heroes, horror, and the weird.

Land of the Lost TV show.

Comics: Savage Sword of Conan, and other direct S&S titles (color CtB, Arak Son of Thunder, occasional issue of Heavy Metal). Also John Carter of Mars, Weird War, and Tarzan.

The comics led me to the Conan Saga Lancer paperbacks with their Frazetta covers.

Time Life Enchanted World series.

Adolescent films including Rankin-Bass Hobbit, Clash of the Titans, Dragonslayer, Krull, The Dark Crystal. Even something like Goonies, for the spirit of adventure and treasure-seeking it evoked in me.

These films inevitably led to more adult movies: Conan the Barbarian (1982), Heavy Metal animated, Excalibur, LadyHawke, The Terminator, Blade Runner.

Tabletop gaming: Tom Moldvay basic D&D (D&D in general, but this edition specifically). White Dwarf magazine, which had fiction, entertaining articles, and great artwork. Artwork in general was to be prized, prior to the internet. It sparked ideas for gaming, and my imagination in general. I later migrated to other RPGs including Runequest, Top Secret, Star Frontiers, etc. And Wargaming (Wooden Ships and Iron Men, Axis and Allies, etc.)

Computer games: Atari, which led to the early CRPGs (Bard’s Tale, Wizardry, Wizard’s Crown)

Heavy metal and its associated imagery (Iron Maiden, Manowar, Judas Priest)

Halloween—I dressed up as a viking one year, a knight another. My favorite holiday, still is.

Stephen King, including the likes of The Stand, Cycle of the Werewolf, the Long Walk, Salem’s Lot, Eyes of the Dragon, etc.

* I also recommend the likes of The Appendix N Podcast, So I'm Writing a Novel, The Cromcast, and the Dark Crusade for their coverage of sword-and-sorcery material.

Metal Friday: Nativity in Black

"Everybody knows that Black Sabbath started everything and almost 
every single thing that people are playing today has already been done by Black Sabbath.
They wrote every single good riff... ever." -- Rob Zombie

I’ll admit it: As a young heavy metal devotee I was not much of a Black Sabbath fan. That’s not strong enough: I was probably a couple degrees removed from scorn of the legendary British metal act, a stance born out of ignorance.

When I started listening to heavy metal in the late 1980s, Sabbath was no longer “in.” Far from it. Iron Maiden? They were in. American thrash bands like Anthrax, Megadeth, and especially Metallica, yeah, definitely in. Sabbath in comparison seemed like old fogies and has-beens; next to “Disposable Heroes,” the likes of “Iron Man” felt pretty, well, disposable. 

By that time Ozzy had long been booted from the band, Dio had departed for an illustrious solo career, and the band was far past its peak. After taking a brief hiatus in the mid-80s, Sabbath brought in Tony Martin as lead vocalist and released The Eternal Idol (1987) and Headless Cross (1989). Both albums were met with indifference by heavy metal magazines and Headbangers Ball. Probably not unfairly, either. They were out of step with the metal scene at the time.

Now, I knew the name Black Sabbath carried legendary status among metal die-hards, and I liked a couple of their songs well enough. But, I was not on the bandwagon. I just didn’t know enough of their classic songs, and lacked an understanding of their incalculable contributions, or the awesomeness of hits like “Into the Void,” “Fairies Wear Boots” and “Symptom of the Universe.” Keep in mind this was the pre-internet era, and so exploring their catalog via Spotify or Youtube was not an option. Even had I wanted to listen to Sabbath, I didn’t own any of their tapes (yes, I said tapes damnit). I had minimal income and buying their back catalog was difficult, and had minimal appeal for my thrash and Maiden obsessed self.

But something occurred in 1994 that changed my perception of the band, forever. Ironically it was not a Black Sabbath album, but a Sabbath tribute album. I’m talking about the appearance of Nativity in Black.

I don’t know what prompted me to buy this album; by then I had more disposable income and I think I may have read a good review in Kerrang or somewhere else. It may have been that I was a huge fan of the artists featured on the album, including the likes of Biohazard, White Zombie, Sepultura, and of course Bruce Dickinson. Regardless, I’m glad I bought it.

By then I had graduated to CDs, and immediately realized upon first spin of this new-fangled shiny disc that the album rocked. Hard. Nativity in Black is a classic. I love Sepultura’s cover of “Symptom of the Universe,” Bruce ripping through “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath,” and Type O Negative’s downbeat, doom-laden version of “Black Sabbath.” I was very pleasantly surprised to learn that the mysterious Bullring Brummies, who covered “The Wizard,” was fronted by none other than Rob Halford. Oh, and Geezer Butler and Bill Ward were also part of this undercover band, formed solely to play one song on the album.

But my favorite song on Nativity in Black has to go to “Children of the Grave” by White Zombie. If this doesn’t get you headbanging I don’t know what will. It’s a killer cover. Rob Zombie and co. amp up the pace (and bass) to add an additional layer of heaviness, add in snippets of newscaster reports of the Manson murders, and change a few key words ("love" is changed to "hell" in one verse) which lends the song a far more sinister air than the original.

Needless to say this album kindled my interest in Sabbath and led to me exploring their back catalog. And the rest is history.

Here is the aforementioned “Children of the Grave.” Give it a listen and see if you agree if it earns the killer status I've accorded it.

Seven weeks off Facebook, a few observations

Fuck I don’t miss that noise.

If you want to get more done—write more, read more, have more meaningful relationships, enjoy a better focus and healthier mindset—get off the platform.

I am posting far more here on The Silver Key, because I have suddenly found more hours in the day.

I am reading more books, with more attention.

I am calling and talking to friends more often.

I am writing up a storm on LinkedIn, actual thoughtful business content.

I don’t need to read other people’s hot takes on gun control/no gun control, abortion/not abortion, Trump/never Trump. As if what you write on these topics will ever change anyone’s mind. They won’t. Better off pissing into a headwind; at least you only piss on yourself.

There is room for all these conversations. They should be had. But not everyone needs to have an opinion on every issue. 

Most people haven’t figured this out, so I’ll say it again: You don’t need to have an opinion on everything. You can remain silent, and think, and admit you don’t know, rather than spew shit on Facebook, and demonstrate your ignorance to the world.

If you believe in a cause, great! Act. Get involved. Do something beyond hot takes on social media, that vanish into the ether. And then follow the media's lead and move on to the next "outrage." Remember all the outrage about masking/not masking? 

I don’t want to sound smug about my decision (that’s how I viewed people who made these breaks, outwardly and loudly, in the past. Which is why I just deleted my account without fanfare). But I’m glad I made it, unequivocally. And I think you should at least consider the same, a short break even, see what happens.

Time is our only non-renewable resource, and social media platforms ravenously eat your time, which you’ll never get back. Engaging in nonsense, blood-pressure raising discussions is one way Facebook eats your life. But passive scrolling, and “likes,” which is what Facebook/Instagram/TikTok, etc. encourages, eats up your time in an insidious fashion, far more than you know. 

Companies are monetizing you, selling your data. If you’re not paying for something, odds are you’re the product, not the customer.

I may still get back on, someday, but if it happens it will be for a targeted, specific reason. 

For now, for anyone wondering, seven weeks later I’m still off. And have confirmed, you don’t need that shit. 

S&S-related updates and news

A roundup of stuff happening in my favorite subgenre.

I won’t be going to Cross Plains, TX for Howard Days after all. I was leaning heavily in that direction, but several factors have converged to derail my trip. Starting a new job, after I had already pre-booked a week of vacation in June, was probably the biggest. That, coupled with family matters including college expenses and the estimated cost of the trip, plus some parental issues, caused me to put it off. A real bummer because there are several folks in the S&S/Howard communities attending this year that I’d love to meet, and of course it means another year on the planet not having visited the hallowed Howard homestead. It will still happen, someday, and soon.

Speaking of Howard, the Collected Letters of Robert E. Howard, vol. 2, is now available for pre-order by the Robert E. Howard Foundation. I will be picking this up. The Foundation sold out of a first printing years ago and my collection of Howard letters is incomplete.

The Whetstone Discord S&S group continues to foster and promote new authors, and I realize I need to check out a couple of recent releases. These include the likes of Hag of the Hills by JTT Rider. I love my old S&S but I’m trying to support new material when it comes out, too.

This week I received an email from Ingram Spark, which appears to be Pilum Press’s printing outfit, stating that Thune’s Vision has been received for printing. As I’ve stated before Schuyler Hernstrom is (in my non-exhaustive experience) the most exciting and talented new voice to hit the S&S scene. Really looking forward to this volume, which I recently backed on Kickstarter.

Flame and Crimson has been reviewed by Darrell Schweitzer in Dead Reckonings #31 (Hippocampus Press). I have not read the review but will be. I admit with some guilt that I have not done much of anything on Schweitzer here on the blog or elsewhere, despite the fact that he’s a talented writer and critic whom I’ve enjoyed (I recently re-read his “The Hag” in Swords Against Darkness III, which was pretty terrific).

I recently subscribed to Thews You Can Use, which you can find in my blogroll at right. This is the name we all wish we had thought of for our own S&S newsletters.

I still haven’t seen The Northman (#failure). I recently went to view it on On Demand and a single viewing was priced at $19.95. Are you kidding me? I’d possibly buy a DVD or Blue Ray disc at that price, but not digital vaporware. Still, looking forward to watching this soon. I’ve been assiduously ducking spoilers including a recent episode of Rogues in the House with Sara Frazetta on the film. 

The fine sounds of a silver stringed bard

 

Ghouls, guitars, and gals... good stuff.

My latest essay/review is up on the blog of Tales from the Magician's Skull. Check out The Far-Flung Literary Webs of Manly Wade Wellman.

I have been a fan of Wellman for some time, but only casually, and only through his Kardios S&S stories and a handful of other tales. I had not read any of his Silver John stories.

That was a mistake I'm glad I rectified with the collection Who Fears the Devil?

These stories are set in mid-20th century America but have a sword-and-sorcery heartbeat and soul to them. A wandering outsider/bard, armed with a silver-stringed guitar instead of a sword, running afoul of monsters and magic and ne'er do well-ers in the deep woods of Appalachia. All told with a master story teller's skilled hand. 

If you haven't yet read of John, aka., John the Balladeer, aka. Silver John, you're in for a treat.

A rant on the practice of maddening literalism

I’m not one for rants these days… I try to keep things positive, always, because life is short, and walking around angry is no way to live it.

But … (and you knew the “but” was coming) … when I get comments like this on a celebration of 40 years of Conan it’s hard not to see a bit of red. See below, and my polite response on the website of DMR Books. I wanted to write something a lot worse, but decided to save the rant for here.

Some people are so maddeningly literal, that they, to use a tired cliché, can’t see the forest for the trees.

Imagine if you will watching a stirring film like Conan the Barbarian, in 1982 on the big screen, with an audience cheering around you. As the credits roll they rise to their feet, cheering, in celebration of the operatic grandeur. And, as the lights come up, uttering out loud “why did Conan have an Austrian accent when his father did not?” 

You’d be the turd in the punch bowl. I’d be throwing boxes of popcorn at you. And you’d deserve it.

You get a dude who says “Carter did not contribute much to the novelization, or so I have read somewhere.” First of all, an attempted correction better come with an attribution. Second of all, read what I wrote. I said the novel feels like Carter may have written it in a weekend, soaked in cognac and wreathed in cigarette smoke, cribbing off the manuscript. This is obviously not an attempt by me at scholarship on the manuscript of the novelization, which should be evident by anyone reading it. I was being a bit cheeky. Were I writing scholarship on the novelization, and not a celebration of 40 years of Conan, I would have put the time in to dig up as much detail on that crappy novel as I could. Moreover, what I wrote is a perfectly valid observation; the novelization, which I just read, feels that way to me. Slapdash, and Carter-ian.

Aside: If you are going to allow your name to be listed as co-author of the book, and receive remuneration, as Carter did, the responsibility for said content is yours. Anything in that book is Carter’s responsibility.

Likewise, IDGAF if Von Sydow is “Swedish, not German.” Oh by the way he is of German ancestry. But I don’t care; again if I’m reading a biography of Von Sydow I’d love to see all that spelled out in detail. But not in a post like the one I wrote. 

You’ve gotta understand time and place and intent, man. Context.

You know who another maddeningly literal person was? L. Sprague de Camp, who admitted to utterly abandoning Robert E. Howard for years, after discovering a historical anachronism, a reference to a stirrup prior to their purported invention, in one of Howard’s historical stories. 

Can you imagine doing that? And potentially missing out on Kull and Solomon Kane and Conan and everything that came after? It certainly did not stop de Camp from later returning to milk as much as he could from the property. By writing shitty novelizations like Conan the Barbarian, among other things. Maybe the dude should have walked. 

Now I’m being petty. 

But, this is why Howard stopped writing historical fiction, because idiot nit-pickers who cannot see the forest for the trees focus on minor, inconsequential details, and lose the entire plot as a result, and miss out on things like poetry, and beauty, which De Camp utterly lacked (which is why he was incapable of writing convincing Howard pastiche). That’s actually a fault and a deficiency on the part of the critic. Not on Howard’s part, but De Camp’s. It’s called a contextual error.

Now, for the nitpickers reading this, am I saying that accuracy and attention to detail are irrelevant? 

Not in the slightest. But, there is a time and place for it. 

Detailed histories (and I take fault for any errors in Flame and Crimson) and biographies should be accurate. Even then, they must focus on certain things to the exclusion of others, unless you enjoy reading encyclopedias—something else altogether. If you are working in a pharmacy compounding life-saving prescriptions, or in a hospital laboratory, or precision machining, you better be accurate. But this is not the way to approach reading or watching fucking Conan the Barbarian 1982, or reading someone’s nostalgia-fueled recollections of it. Conan is, to be technical for a moment, from a dim and remote part of our own history, but a fabricated pseudo-history, pulled from pseudo “historical” fragments like the Book of Skelos and ghostly recollections, the voices of spirits at Howard’s shoulder. Most read this stuff for the story, the characters, the magic and wonder, the vivid atmosphere, the visceral action, the plotting. If you read it for detailed accuracy in a timeline, or exact 1:1 historical correlations, and get tripped up on why Howard said “bascinet” or something in an out of context manner, odds are you’ll be disappointed. But this is precisely the mindset Howard was trying to get away from.

If that’s your jam, fine, but I think you’re missing something amazing by engaging in this practice, all the time.

TL;DR, nitpicking details is an obnoxious practice. 

I’m sure I’m being thin-skinned about this, and possibly picking on someone who may be being earnest, and not a know-it-all. But there you have it.

Now I’ll try to be a good boy again.

Conan the Barbarian (1982) at 40

The barbarian triumphant... and contemplative.

My latest post is up on DMR Books. Conan the Barbarian at 40 (can it really have been 40 years)? It seems like just yesterday I watched it for the first time, peering through my fingers as my old man fell asleep on the couch. I entered a rough and violent world, one that spoke to me like very few films have ever managed to do, before or since.

I'll be honest, I think this film is genius. Not flawless, but a work of true inspiration. John Milius put a lot of love and ideas and care into this film, and an uncompromising vision. Sure, he took a lot of liberties with REH's character, but I maintain that if you dissociate the film protagonist from the literary figure, and enjoy it as a Howard-inspired sword-and-sorcery film, you can't help but be moved.

Anyways, hop over to DMR, read the post, and let me know what you think. Love or hate CtB, I always enjoy talking about the film.

By the way I mention near the end of the post that I recently re-read the novelization of the film by DeCamp and Carter. This did not hold up, and probably deserves a post of its own at some point. Stick with the movie.

Everything about this is good (Iron Maidens at Wally's, Hampton Beach)

This is what we call a 10/10. 

I had the pleasure of seeing the Iron Maidens last night at Wally's on Hampton Beach. Yes, this is an all-ladies tribute to the great Iron Maiden. Apparently they've been around in some form or fashion since 2001. I've heard good things about them since discovering them a few years back, and now after seeing the Maidens live I can confirm, they rock. Hard.

"Powerslave" contains either my favorite Maiden guitar solo, or second fave after "Stranger in a Strange Land." And Nikki Stringfield, aka, "Davina Murray," nailed it last night. I took this clip with my iphone and missed the tail end of "Adrian's" second solo, but you get the gist. Incredibly well-done.

Also good lord, Stringfield is something to look at on stage. That doesn't hurt. She is smoking and a smoking guitar player. That combo is my kryptonite. 

This was my first time at Wally's, a bit of a rough biker bar a stone's throw from the Atlantic ocean. The bar was jammed, the whole beach scene was jammed. 85 degree weather, the first summer-like day of the year after a cold and shitty spring, brought out the crowds and traffic. I had a blast hanging out with a friend and former work colleague, and a buddy of his.

So yeah, Iron Maidens: If you get the chance, see them, highly recommended.