credit: PJ Fitzpatrick

With the conclusion of A Geography Of Haarth I’ve decided on another—I suspect much shorter ;-)—series to fill the Friday space for now.

In it, I shall take a word that means either a “bad guy”, eg ruffian or rogue, or a “rough diamond”, eg a roughneck, and match it with a character from my books, either Thornspell, or The Heir Of Night or The Gathering Of The Lost.

As in the A Geography Of Haarth series, each entry will be accompanied by the identification of the character and a relevant passage from the books.

If you have any specific:

i) words for ruffians or roughnecks; or

ii) particular characters from my books

that you’d like to see featured—do let me know!

The new series will commence next Friday!

There are some historical figures and periods that just seem to attract historical fiction.

One of these characters is the Athenian politician and general, Alcibiades, and the period of the Peloponnesian War—the conflict between the Greek states Athens and Sparta, from 431-404 BC., including Athens ill-fated expedition against Syracuse.

Alcibiades was a charismatic and polarising figure, both the darling and daemon of his native Athens and his era, who switched sides several times between Athens, Sparta, and Persia. He undoubtedly stood at the cusp of significant events, but I still find it interesting that neither other figures of the time, such as Lysander or Xenophon in the same era, or Parmenion in the succeeding generation, attract the same level of interest.

Perhaps I am just fascinated that nearly 2500 years on, the alchemy of Alcibiades still retains its allure. 😉

At any rate, a quick look along my shelves reveals the following works which all feature Alcibiades as a central figure, four in the context of the Peloponnesian War (the exception is Plato’s Symposium):

The Flowers Of Adonis by Rosemary Sutcliff

“The 5th Century BC. The Greek city-states are engaged in perpetual war. But one man towers above the chaos. His name is Alkibiades. He is at once a pirate, statesman and seducer whose adventures rival those of Odysseus himself…”

The Last Of The Wine by Mary Renault

“The story of Alexias, a young Athenian from a good family who gets drawn in to the controversial teachings of Socrates and a participates in the Olympic Games — all set against the background of famine, siege and civil conflict.”

The Road To Sardis by Stephanie Plowman

“Lycius, a young Athenian and cousin to Alcibiades, participates in the final struggles and defeat of his city during the Peloponnesian War.”

The Symposium by Plato

“In the Symposium, Plato recounts a drinking party following an evening meal, where the guests include the poet Aristophanes, the drunken Alcibiades, and, of course, the wise Socrates. The revelers give their views on the timeless topics of love and desire…”

Tides Of War by Steven Pressfield

“Alcibiades – mercurial soldier and charismatic commander without peer on land and sea, a man whom fortune always favoured. Raised as a ward of Pericles, later a protégé of Socrates, and compared to Achilles by the adoring Athenian masses, he was to become the key figure in the Peloponnesian War – the tumultuous 27-year civil war between Athens and Sparta…”

This is just a very small sample, though: if you go online you’ll quickly see there are many more “qualifying works.” 😉

~ by Rebecca Fisher

Introduction:

First of all, what is a penny dreadful? During the 1800s growing literacy rates in Britain increased the demand for published material, particularly among lower classes whose wages could not readily be spent on expensive books. In response, a number of magazines and newspapers ran serialized stories over the course of several weeks. Due to their lurid and sensationalized subject matter, and the fact that they were sold for a penny, they soon became known as “penny dreadfuls.”

 They provide a catchy title for this show, though in actuality its story is based on the Gothic Horror novels of the 19^th century, namely Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray. Characters from all three novels – and a couple of original ones – are combined here into a singular narrative, with elements of their individual stories merged into a greater one.

It sounds bizarre, and yet the care and ingenuity with which the episodes are crafted makes Penny Dreadful a compelling drama. It’s a show that could only possibly exist after all three novels have had time to soak into our literary culture so thoroughly that even those who’ve never read the original texts are familiar with the stories. This allows the show to introduce a set of recognizable characters, subvert existing expectations, and play around with the conventions of the genre.

Premise:

Sir Malcolm Murray (Timothy Dalton) and his young ward Vanessa Ives (Eva Green) are on a mission to find and rescue his daughter Mina from strange creatures that lurk in the shadows of Victorian London. To assist them they enlist the help of American gunslinger Ethan Chandler (Josh Hartnett) and poetic surgeon Victor Frankenstein (Harry Treadaway), two young men with dark secrets of their own.

From left: Malcolm Murray, Dorian Gray, Vanessa Ives, Victor Frankenstein and Ethan Chandler

Rounding out the cast is Irish prostitute Brona Croft (Billie Piper) and hedonistic socialite Dorian Gray (Reeve Carney), both initially existing on the periphery of the action but who are gradually drawn deeper into the plot.

It’s a show that draws upon all the hallmarks of the Gothic genre and the Victorian Era: séance parties, opium dens, gas-lit streets, a fascination with Egyptology, melodramatic theatre, and of course – penny dreadfuls. From dingy backstreets to opulent drawing rooms, every set creates an atmosphere of danger and mystery, where underworld creatures seem to be after something – but what?

Story:

The show is certainly not for the faint of heart, as there’s plenty of gore, violence and sex (sometimes all at once) as well as an underlying strain of psychological horror that can be harrowing to watch. Since she was a child, Vanessa Ives has been visited by a dark entity that has a vested interest in her, and whose presence takes a heavy toll on her mental health. Across the course of the first season’s eight episodes, her backstory is slowly revealed, explaining her ordeals and the nature of the power that she possesses – the reason, for example, why a terrifying vampire would stop dead in its tracks just by looking into her eyes.

 The terrifying vampire

Meanwhile, Victor Frankenstein is grappling with the reappearance of the reanimated creature he’s brought back from the dead, now a lonely and embittered soul who demands that his creator make him a mate to spend eternity with – and who threatens innocent lives if he doesn’t comply. Elsewhere, Ethan Chandler is disturbed by the growing number of bloody murders in his neighbourhood, but is soon distracted by a blossoming friendship with Brona Croft, whose consumption (tuberculosis) encourages him to accept Malcolm Murray’s offer of employment.

Suffice to say, there is a lot going on in this show. Almost every frame is filled with meaningful gazes and loaded dialogue, and it can take more than one viewing to catch all the symbolism, foreshadowing, and shout-outs to Victorian literature. Conversely, this is also a show that likes to take its time, often filling a scene with mysterious occurrences or cryptic conversations that aren’t explained until much later.

Characters:

Despite the strong ensemble cast, the show undoubtedly belongs to Eva Green as Vanessa Ives, who deserves an Emmy for her work here. In her hands Vanessa is captivating: mysterious eyes, smooth smile, gliding stride, but with a palpable darkness inside her that’s terrifying to behold.

Eva Green as Vanessa Ives

Timothy Dalton is tailor-made for Sir Malcolm Murray, a bent-but-not-broken man who has lost his entire family due to his own negligence as a parent, as is Harry Treadaway as Frankenstein who practically trembles with passion for his chosen vocation in life. Even Josh Hartnett and Billie Piper prove themselves to be surprisingly good actors after careers full of fairly lightweight roles.

Ultimately Penny Dreadful is not a horror story, but a character study about a collection of people who are grappling with darkness both internal and external to themselves. None of them are particularly nice people, but the calibre of the acting and quality of writing makes them compelling characters nonetheless.

Conclusion:

Penny Dreadful packs a huge amount of material into its short eight-episode season, and thankfully has been greenlit for a second series. The central storyline, of an Egyptian cult that may or may not serve Lucifer, Dracula, or some other entity entirely, has only just begun to be explored, and our band of damaged protagonists could well be the only ones with enough immoral fibre to deal with it. As Vanessa says: “We here have been brutalized with loss. It has made us brutal in return. There is no going back from this moment.”

Next Time: Starting A New Sub-Series—“Fantasy/Sci-Fi Films You’ve Probably Never Heard Of.”

Though I run the risk of someone contending this title every week, my next feature series will be called “Fantasy/Sci-Fi Films You’ve Probably Never Heard Of”.

Given that they exist outside mainstream entertainment, these films never quite got the attention they deserved, so hopefully you’ll find something here that otherwise would have passed you by. First up is Mirrormask.
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About The Reviewer:

Rebecca Fisher is a graduate of the University of Canterbury with a Masters degree in English Literature, mainly, she claims, because she was able to get away with writing her thesis on C.S. Lewis and Philip Pullman. She is a reviewer for FantasyLiterature.com, a large website that specializes in fantasy and science-fiction novels, as well as posting reviews to Amazon.com and her They’re All Fictional blog.

To read Rebecca’s detailed introduction of both herself and the series, as well as preceding reviews, click on:

Big Worlds On Small Screens

Night’s Magic ………………………………………………..Sir Isaac Newton (1643 –1727)

"Newton was not the first of the age of reason.
He was the last of the magicians." – John Maynard Keynes.

When Isaac closes his eyes
he is hanging, arms outstretched
only faith keeps him
from falling – a magic trick.
In his left hand is the Book of Revelations
in the right, the Book of Nature,
written in geometry.

He opens his eyes to take note
of God’s will in action. Observations
must be interpreted –
bodies in motion, fruit from the tree.

Reclusive, he experiments upon himself,
slides a bodkin into his eye socket
between eyeball and bone
until he sees severall white darke
& coloured circles.

Sibyls and Daemons
are still close enough
for him to hear their voices.
The sun rises so slowly it’s too hard
to pick the moment of first light
or the last of the night’s magic.
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(c) Helen Heath

Published in “Graft” (Victoria University Press, 2012)

Reproduced here with permission.

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About The Poem:

Currently, I am re-posting poets who have had multiple poems featured here on “…Anything, Really” since I joined the Tuesday Poem community in June 2010. Night’s Magic first featured on August 14, 2012, at which time I wrote:

“One of the aspects that immediately interested me with this book [Graft]was what I call the “history of science” poems, focused around such seminal figures as Sir Isaac Newton (Night’s Magic), Marie Curie (Radiant), astronomer Beatrice Tinsley (Spiral Arms) and Galileo Galilei (And Yet It Moves.) The poem Making Tea In The Universe, which won the inuagural ScienceTeller Poetry Award in 2011, is also part of this sequence.”

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About the Poet:

Helen Heath is the author of Graft, a collection of poems. In 2009 she completed an MA in Creative Writing at the IIML, where she is currently working toward her PhD. Her research project explores how science is represented in poetry. She is using this research to write poems about the intersect between people and technology. Helen won the inaugural ScienceTeller Poetry Award in 2011 for her poem ‘Making Tea in the Universe’. Graft received the Jessie McKay award for Best First Book of Poetry in the New Zealand Post Book Awards, 2013, and the collection as a whole was shortlisted for the bi-annual Royal Society Science Book prize 2013 (making it the first ever poetry or fiction book to be shortlisted). Graft’s publication was also included in the NZ Listener’s Top 100 Books in 2012, and Best New Zealand Poems 2012. Helen Heath’s writing has been published in many journals in New Zealand, Australia, the UK and the US. She blogs at helenheath.com and writes poetry and essays.

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To read the featured poem on the Tuesday Poem Hub and other great poems from fellow Tuesday poets from around the world, click here or on the Quill icon in the sidebar.

Recently, the (US) National Book Association awarded Ursula Le Guin its Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters, arguably one of the most distinguished awards in literature.

The citation included the following:

“For more than forty years, Le Guin has defied conventions of narrative, language, character, and genre, as well as transcended the boundaries between fantasy and realism to forge new paths for literary fiction…Among the nation’s most revered writers of science fiction and fantasy, Le Guin’s fully imagined worlds  challenge readers to consider profound philosophical and existential questions about gender, race, the environment, and society. Her boldly experimental and critically acclaimed novels, short stories, and children’s books, written in elegant prose are popular with readers throughout the world.”

All entirely accurate, of course, although I would say it much more simply: loved—and still love— A Wizard Of Earthsea and its two immediate sequels, The Tombs Of Atuan and The Farthest Shore as a kid. As an adult, I was blown away by The Left Hand Of Darkness—for all the reasons included in the citation: elegant writing, outstanding worldbuilding, and the challenge to consider alternate views of “gender, race, the environment, and society.” Not to mention the real science of her SFF novels, including the invention of the ansible, which epitomises the concept of faster-than-light communication in a universe of slower-than-light travel. Again, real science, not the “fantasy science” of films like Interstellar.

In her eighties now, Le Guin still has succinct insights, both thoughtful and thought provoking, to offer, as in her Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters acceptance speech:

“Hard times are coming, when we’ll be wanting the voices of writers who can see alternatives to how we live now, can see through our fear-stricken society and its obsessive technologies to other ways of being, and even imagine real grounds for hope. We’ll need writers who can remember freedom – poets, visionaries – realists of a larger reality.

Right now, we need writers who know the difference between production of a market commodity and the practice of an art. Developing written material to suit sales strategies in order to maximise corporate profit and advertising revenue is not the same thing as responsible book publishing or authorship …

Books aren’t just commodities; the profit motive is often in conflict with the aims of art. We live in capitalism, its power seems inescapable – but then, so did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begin in art”

To read an indepth interview, click on the following:

“Wizardry Is Artistry” in The Guardian

To listen to Le Guin’s acceptance speech, click on:

Books Aren’t Just Commodities

Yea, I say: yea to that! But yea most of all to Ms Le Guin, a fine role model of artistic integrity, as well as what one may aspire to as a writer in today’s world.

I found the following blog posts of interest over recent weeks, so decided to share the links—sort of like reading the weekend papers. 😉 Just click on the embedded links to read more:

Pulitzer prize finalist Lydia Millet shared Five Writing Tips on Publisher’s Weekly—which I thought were interesting, even if trying for quantity over quality stymied me completely when beginning writing Daughter Of Blood.

Lloyd Lofthouse reflected on how ebooks require a changed approach to book cover design — again, interesting reading.

Gabe Bergado on Arts.Mic reckons that Science Shows Something Surprising About People Who Still Read Fiction

And for something outside the literary square, a thoughtful and thought-provoking post from Cameron Conaway on 2014: The Year We Put “Just” In Front Of Malaria.

“You can’t think yourself out of a writing block; you have to write yourself out of a thinking block”

~ John Rogers

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You know, I think this is so, so true…

The Wall of Night Series map; design by Peter Fitzpatrick

Although I titled last week’s A Geography Of Haarth post the final roundup I realized that I had a few more final reflections to share, mostly of a number-crunching nature.

As noted the series that has explored the full range of locales and places (so far) from The Wall of Night world of Haarth. Each entry has been accompanied by a quote from the books in which the place appears, whether The Heir Of Night or The Gathering Of The Lost (or both.)

The series followed an alphabetical approach, starting with “A” (Academy Island) and working through to the final locale of Wymark under “W.”  The further reflections include noting that:

• The majority of Haarth place names occur under “T”, with 11 locales ranging from Telimbras to the Towers of Morning; and

• The bulk of place names also occur at the beginning and end of the alphabet, with 7 under  “A” and 8 under “B” respectively, and the same again under “S” and “T” (as well as the 11 under “T”);

• But (again so far) there are no entries at all under “Q”, “U”, “X”, “Y” and “Z”

In terms of where in Haarth the locales fall, so far the Wall Of Night story has canvassed the following number of places in each of the following regions:

Aralorn: 2

Emer: 26

Gray Lands/Jaransor: 6

Ishnapur: 3

(Diverse) Other: 10

River: 23

Supernatural Realms: 2

Wall of Night: 15

And there you have it: that’s what nigh on 2 years of Fantasy geography and worldbuilding fun will get you. 😉

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When I’m working hard on my own writing, I really enjoy re-reading old favourites. One benefit is that because  I already know what’s going to happen, I’m not tempted to read into the wee small hours until the book is finished—I am happy to restrict myself to small bites. It’s also fun to reacquaint myself with a tale I’ve loved in the past and figure out whether it still spins my wheels as a reader.

A few weeks back  I mentioned that I was re-reading Restoree by Anne McCaffrey, which I first read while at High School, so I thought I should let you know how I found it.

Just to give a quick plot summary for those who are not familiar with the story, the heroine, Sarah, is kidnapped by aliens (no, seriously) and remembers nothing more until she wakes up on a strange planet with a new outward appearance. She finds herself working in a menial capacity in what appears to be a psychiatric asylum and gradually realises that the patients are drugged political prisoners. Her particular charge turns out to be the former Regent of the quasi-medieval, but space-level-technology world, whom Sarah subsequently helps escape. In so doing she finds herself pitchforked into the middle of planetary level politics and an interplanetary war against the Mil, a technologically superior race that preys on other species. The latter scenario provides a credible explanation for the quasi-medieval political structure and space age technology of the planet, Lothar, because the Lotharians (he-he) have  first captured a ship—by as much luck as good management—and then piggy-backed off the Mil’s technology.

First published in 1967, several aspects of the story are somewhat dated, particularly the “Aw shucks” dialogue. I also couldn’t help noting that although the story has a proactive heroine, Sarah is the only proactive—or, in fact, active—female character in the book. All the other “active” characters in terms of the plot action and figures in authority are all male.

On the positive side, Sarah is initially a very active heroine, working out what’s going on in the asylum and playing an instrumental role in the Regent, Harlan’s, escape. Later she is less active (in a taking action sense) but still plays a crucial role as a dues ex machina in Lotharian political affairs and in facilitating communication between Lothar and their established allies when seeking to include Earth in an alliance against the Mil.

The story itself is space opera, pure and simple, i.e. do not expect heavy-duty, “hard” science here. But it is a reasonably engaging adventure story nonetheless, with plenty of action, political maneuverings, and reasonable worldbuilding. I think the way Lotharian society has developed as a result of Mil predation is plausible, as is their socio-psychological response to the Mil themselves. And there are space ships and a critical space battle—and although I am a leetle uncertain of some of the technology involved, being space opera, so long as there is a conveniently placed wormhole, or the like, it would be churlish to delve to deeply.

Ah, I hear you ask, but what about the romantic elements? Well, what about them? I suspect that one of the reasons I enjoyed Restoree so much as a mid-teen was precisely because of the romance between Sarah and Harlan, juxtaposed with the space-adventure story. (I suspect Restoree may have been my Twilight. 😉 ) The romance does have Mills and Boons-ish overtones in places, but Sarah maintains her agency throughout and the romance develops into an actual relationship grounded in the “real”, such as when Harlan has to get Sarah to i.d. other Earth victims of the Mil. Also, since romance is an integral part of life, I’m not sure why I should object to romantic elements in my SF reading—a point I made in relation to NK Jemison’s The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms in 2011.

Overall, therefore, I feel that Restoree, despite some dated aspects, still stands the test of time as a fun, adventurous tale with some more serious aspects—and romantic-elements goodness to boot—but which should not be embarked on too seriously as a reading adventure.

On Sunday, I posted a few thoughts on Interstellar in which I concluded that: “I don’t think it’s made it into my “top” SF films.”

But then I immediately wondered what films I would put on that list. My very first qualifier on that has to be that I am not a big film-goer, so my viewing is not exhaustive, but nonetheless, I do have favourites, as follows:

Star Wars: (the real ‘first” movie)—because it’s fun and adventurous and had space ships and a real sense of worlds and space. Plus “A long time ago in a galaxy far far away…” was just magic! Space opera? You betcha—but I still enjoy watching it again from time to time. A big reason, I suspect, for that is because as the first film, Star Wars was spared the “overblown” elements that overwhelmed the sequels, with the exception of The Empire Strikes Back.

Blade Runner: For me, Blade Runner is all about atmosphere, chiefly the world and the world-weariness of Dekker. But it also takes a slant-wise look at a really important question, what makes a human being—only without any big speeches or heavy-handed philosophizing.

Alien/Aliens:  Alien is atmospheric, eerie—and basically a great psychological thriller set in deep space. It’s also a really compelling take on what I regard as one of the great SFF themes, “person alone.”

Aliens is an equally great action movie set in space, but despite the difference in pace/focus it’s a sequel that really works for me—or it may be that the change in pace/focus is why it works as a sequel, rather than trying to do exactly the same thing over again.

Gattaca: Gattaca is another one of those “deceptively simple” stories, which in this case means that it takes one idea, the implications of genetic engineering in a near-future world, and works it through in a powerful and straightforward way, by focusing on the implications for human aspiration.

Deep Impact: I love this film, particularly because it actually has quite good science, as well great storytelling and interesting characters, including positive and interesting women characters.  Personally I think it knocks Armageddon out of the ballpark.

Forbidden Planet: Although an oldie (it was made in 1956) and accordingly dated in some ways, I still think Forbidden Planet has a lot to recommend it in terms of classic SF storytelling, with space travel and interplanetary exploration that anticipates the Star Trek genre. But it’s also a story that is as much about human psychology and motivation as external action.

Galaxy Quest: Because it’s such a brilliant take-off of Star Trek, but also has it’s own story integrity. Always fun.
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Other films that are up there, too, include:
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ET: “phone home” remains in the lexicon, as does the image of the kids riding their BMX’s across the face of the moon

Contact: I was a little disappointed by the ending to Contact, but I loved the overall idea and the focus on how “first contact” might come about.

Terminator/Terminator2: for very similar reasons to Alien/Aliens in fact, although set on a pre-Apocalyptic Earth, rather than in space, plus I love Sarah Connor

The Matrix: So cool! (But what do you mean, sequels? I’m sure it’s a standalone film!)

Inception: If only because you’re never really sure what’s real and what isn’t!

and Serenity: because, you know, Firefly!