To podcast, or not to podcast?

I'm giving some serious thought to starting up a podcast. I think the world could use a regular show on my favorite subgenre of fantasy--sword-and-sorcery--its practitioners, and the weirdness that surrounds it.

However, I have some reservations. One is time. Another is whether anyone would listen. The third and largest is that I don't think I'm a particularly interesting person or a compelling speaker. My forte' is the written word. I'm a middle-age dad and way, way out of touch with current popular culture. I don't watch TV and the last time I may have been vaguely cool was 1992.

That said, I'm slowly formulating a plan for an interview-style show, where I would host various authors, designers, artists, and personalities to talk about themselves and their work. I think I would focus on S&S/heroic fantasy, but stray into horror, heavy metal, movies, possibly comics.

I'd love to get some input on this, yay or nay. If someone has run a podcast and could offer any encouraging words of wisdom, pitfalls to avoid, run screaming in the other direction-type advice, etc., that would be particularly helpful. Hit me up here or over e-mail.

I'm podcasted!

The History of Sword and Sorcery: A Conversation with Author Brian Murphy (that is me) is now available for listening on the Literary Wonder & Adventure Show podcast. Check it out here. It's also up on Youtube.

I'm a bit nervous to listen myself as I'm no sword-and-sorcery hero, and have always been far more comfortable working in the written word rather than the spoken. But I hope I had some interesting things to say Again, I thank host Robert Zoltan and his companion Edgar the Raven for the opportunity.

Edit: Just started listening and I'm loving the post-production work. We didn't start the show with crashing, Basil Poledouris-esque intro music playing in our earphones.

Some commentary on Lin Carter

Yesterday would have been the 90th birthday of the late Lin Carter (1930-1988). I took the opportunity with the prompting of the gents over at DMR publishing to write an essay commemorating the occasion. The angle I chose was his contributions as a pioneering historian of fantasy.

I don't agree with everything Carter had to say about sword-and-sorcery, and get into a few of them at DMR. Check it out here if you're interested. But I also think Carter deserves praise for his work as essentially the first person to offer a coherent history of fantasy with his Imaginary Worlds (1973), published during his tenure as editor of the great Ballantine Adult Fantasy Series. The dude loved fantasy and told a cohesive story about how it came to be, and some of the itches it scratches in our collective humanity.

One of these days I'll have to do some more exploration of my thoughts on pastiche fiction. It's complicated. But some days you just want to read some Thongor.

Talking sword-and-sorcery with Robert Zoltan

Today I recorded an episode of the Literary Wonder and Adventure podcast with host Robert Zoltan (aka, Robert Szeles). It was an enjoyable, wide-ranging, 90 minute or so conversation on sword-and-sorcery, Robert E. Howard, Flame and Crimson, fantasy fiction and the power of myth, publishing, genre, and more.

I’m not sure exactly when the episode will be posted as Robert does a lot of post-production and editing, and as I understand it co-host Edgar the Raven will be making an appearance on the show. But I’ll announce when the episode is live.

Learn more or subscribe to the podcast here.

Remembering my friend, and Dungeon Master, Rick Langtry

Three years ago I lost my friend Rick Langtry to cancer. Rick was a guy that readers of this blog would have liked—a fan of fantasy fiction, hard rock, role-playing games, history, beer. He had an enviable sword mounted on the wall of his living room, real Toledo steel purchased in Spain. In other words, he appreciated all the good things in life. He was a family man with a son and a daughter and a great wife, Charlene.

I met Rick in about the shadiest place imaginable, and under shady circumstances. I believe it was April 2001. Dungeons and Dragons third edition was newly on the scene, promising a “back to the dungeon” approach and a fresh update of a tired, bloated rule set. I was married but without kids at the time and suddenly found myself possessed by the urge to dust off my dice bag and get back in. The only problem was, I didn’t have anyone to play with. A web search turned up the EN World site, which had a “Gamers seeking Gamers” forum. Rick was living in Southern New Hampshire and at the time I was living in Northern Massachusetts, and through the online forum we brokered a meetup at The Tavern in Methuen. My wife was so paranoid that I was going to be murdered by some madman that she made me take her cell phone (I did not have one at the time), thinking that I could at least call from the trunk of a car.

Our meetup at The Tavern was very apropos for what was in store, since as any veteran gamer knows most of the D&D adventures ever played begin with the player characters meeting up awkwardly in a tavern, downing ale served from a comely tavern wench before embarking on adventure. Ready to serve together in arms in life or death circumstances, regardless of the fact that they just met, and barely know one another’s names. Which again, proved prescient.

At the time smoking in restaurants was still a thing, and when I walked into The Tavern it was like the streets of Victorian-era London, with dim lighting and (cigarette) smog straight out of the East End. I looked around and there was Rick, with a beard a beer. Fortunately not Jack the Ripper.

In hindsight it was a meeting solely to make sure we both had one head and a reasonably complete set of teeth. But I knew after a single beer with Rick that he was the kind of guy I’d enjoy hanging out with. I walked out of the Tavern absolutely stiff with smoke, but confident that I found a Dungeon Master, and possibly, a friend.

Remembering Ronnie James Dio

Voice of an angel (and a demon). The great Ronnie James Dio.

Can it really be 10 years since Ronnie James Dio fled the circles of the world? Somehow, yes. A decade has passed since his death, but his music remains as vibrant and awesome as ever. Today I expended a few words explaining why over on DMR Blog. Check it out here if you're interested.

There's been some nice Dio tributes on the interwebs today. Here's a nice collection of short remembrances from the likes of Rob Halford, Scott Ian, and others. 

Glad to hear that in addition to being a once-in-a-lifetime talent, he was also humble and a great guy who took the time to help out new musicians and stick around to sign for the fans.

Sword-and-sorcery: A divergent path of the hero’s journey

Hey, this hero is made up of a thousand
faces... I see what they did there.

The following are some ramblings and observations conceived after a recent reading of Joseph Campbell’s The Hero With a Thousand Faces. I’m not sure if I believe the ideas I’m advancing. I’m no Campbell scholar. Just presenting some thoughts here for commentary/disagreement/dismissal. Have at it.

Among the claims I make in Flame and Crimson is that sword-and-sorcery offers a sandbox in which to explore themes alternative to mainstream/high fantasy. The latter often closely follows the “hero’s journey” as described by Joseph Campbell in his classic 1949 study The Hero With a Thousand Faces. Sword-and-sorcery I am positing here offers an alternative exit ramp.

To set the stage a bit: Campbell (1904-87) was a teacher, lecturer, author, and editor who achieved fame with his compelling theory that mythologies the world round—ancient Greek, African, Native American, Northern European, occidental and oriental, and more or less everything in between—share striking similarities and patterns, including their use of the hero’s journey. The journey entails three major stages—Departure, Initiation, and Return—defined by familiar hallmarks and tropes like The Call to Adventure (which the hero may initially refuse), Dragon-Battle (symbolic of the fierce guardian the hero must overcome), and Whale’s Belly (our hero is swallowed, sometimes literally, sometimes figuratively,  in a near death experience). The hero undergoes a supreme ordeal to obtain a reward, then re-emerges from the kingdom of dream and returns with a boon that restores the world. It’s a work that builds on the theories of Carl Jung, including the collective unconscious.

How does traditional sword-and-sorcery fit into this model? There is some significant overlap. We see calls to adventure in S&S, journeys into dark pits and underworlds. We see magical aid, from time to time. And plenty of battles against fearsome monsters and wizards. Robert E. Howard’s “The Scarlet Citadel” fits this mold very well, with Conan heeding the call to adventure (taking the bait on a trap set by plotters to steal his kingship, but riding out to heed that call). Captured, he is imprisoned in a dark hell-like underworld, swallowed if you will, and battles a giant serpent. He is offered magical aid by Pelias the wise wizard in the form of a flying mount. And he returns to lay waste to his enemies and would-be usurpers on the battlefield.

But I would argue that sword-and-sorcery diverges with the hero’s journey, often sharply, in the return, and what a return portends. Sword-and-sorcery heroes return (though not always, particularly in the works of Clark Ashton Smith, where they often die ignominiously). But when they do return, typically they do not bring with them a boon that restores the world. In fact, they usually refuse to return or reintegrate to society, and occasionally bring radical upheaval or destruction home with him.