Filling the Gaps

Some people say I have an obsession with books and collecting them. To those people, I laugh and say, 'obsession is such a mild word.'

While 2023 wasn't a banner year for collecting books, I did get some nice prizes from both online sources and used book stores here on Prince Edward Island. One of the things I have is a complete collection of L. Frank Baum's Oz books, all fourteen of them. Garrett (the youngest) has read a couple of them with me, but he's lost interest lately, so we're still working on the third book, Ozma of Oz. I remember it being a fun book to read when I was a kid, but he's somewhat flighty with his reading choices.

I also started re-collecting an author I enjoyed when I was younger: Terry Brooks. I know, a lot of old-school fantasy readers blame him for basically copying Lord of the Rings with the Sword of Shannara and making 'epic Tolkien pastiche' the dominant genre of fantasy for an entire generation until J.K. Rowling published Harry Potter and started a new trend. Well, that's basically true, although he definitely has his own style, and the rest of the books in the original trilogy were very different from Sword. And he's done a lot of other books in the world of Shannara, including some prequels that confirm that Shannara is just our world in the distant future after a massive nuclear apocalypse. Not the most original premise, no, but it still reads well. I've got about half of his books now, thanks to a great find at the Salvation Army where I picked up about ten of them at once for about five bucks.

Not to neglect the mystery genre, I picked up a few books at thrift stores by Agatha Christie, Rex Stout, and Erle Stanley Gardner. By no means do I have even a majority of the books by any of those writers, but it's nice to have some of them back after a long time without. It's great inspiration for the Cameron Vail books, after all.

Back to fantasy, and I found a bunch of books collecting Fritz Lieber's Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser stories from the 1930s and 1940s. I'm only missing one book to complete that set, which of course is a foundational work for Dungeons & Dragons. Good stuff, very gripping. I've also collected a few more of the 'Appendix N' books, although they can be hard to come by since gamers have been collecting them for a long time now.

Finally, I mentioned yesterday that we're taking a trip to France in 2025. One of the stops we will be making is to Vimy Ridge, one of the most important historical battles in Canadian history. And to prepare for that, I picked up a copy of Pierre Berton's Vimy. I read it years ago, and it's a great book with tons of detail provided by men who were actually there. For those who don't know, Berton is a Canadian author and historical writer who wrote a bunch of books on Canadian history in his lifetime. Older Canadians will remember him; he was a familiar face on various TV shows during the 1970s and 80s. I grabbed a few more of his books over the course the past year, and I have six or seven of them now. They are great reads, covering all sorts of topics such as the Canadian Railroad, the Depression, Confederation, etc. I highly recommend them for anyone interested in Canadian history.

No big-ticket books this year, although I'm hoping to get some of the missing volumes from the Great Books series; a flood back in Ontario ruined about half of the set, and I haven't been able to replace them yet. Here's hoping. Ideally, if I could add a few things to my library this year, I would want to get some more of the writings of the Early Church Fathers, finish the Terry Brooks collection, fill the gaps in my Great Books set, and some more mysteries, particularly by the aforementioned trio of authors.

How about you? Any books you added to your collection, or things you're on the lookout for in 2024? Let me know. Maybe we can help each other find them.

The Dream Library

I've been thinking about my library lately. I like it, of course; I've got some fantastic reading material. But, like every other bibliophile out there, I always want more. And I've been thinking about what my dream library would include, if I had unlimited budget and all the time in the world to read it. Not to mention, space to actually put it in.

So, here's a list that I've come up with, some of which I already have, some of which I will probably never have. And while this might not be a complete list, it's certainly enough to make dreams come true. The first part of this list will be stuff that I have, either complete or in part.

We start, of course, with the Bible. I've got several of those, including the complete Navarre Bible set with commentary, as well as the Ignatius New Testament (also with commentary) and a family copy of the New American Bible. That's a full shelf right there.

Next, the Early Church Fathers, the complete 34-volume set edited by Peter Schaff way back in the 19th century. I've got the first five volumes so far. The set covers pretty much everything that was known to have been written in the first eight or so centuries of Church writings. There's actually more than even that set contains, but it's a pretty comprehensive set.

The Great Books of the Western World, complete 1952 edition. I lost about half of my set in the flood back in Wallaceburg, unfortunately. I'm looking for replacements, and there are some reasonably priced ones on eBay, so I'll have to get those at some point. There is a 1990 60-volume set, but I'm fond of the set I have. Besides, I'll get most of the additions from that set in the Great Ideas Today series.

The Gateway to the Great Books, the 'beginners version' of the Great Books set. It's a 10-volume set, which I have.

The Great Ideas Today, the annual yearbook published by the Great Books people. This series ran from 1961 to 1998; I've got quite a few of those already. I'm missing 1962, 1965, 1966, 1976, 1979, and 1988-1998. These are available through various online stores, so I'm confident I can complete this set.

The Junior Classics, ten-volume set, published by Castalia House. I've got the first three of these in hardback, but I want the whole set. Even if my kids aren't going to read them, my grandkids hopefully will. This set is a reprint of the 1918 set with a few changes to include some newer writings. The first three volumes are great; I can't wait to get the rest of them.

The Thousand and One Nights by Sir Richard Burton. I've mentioned this one before; I have a gorgeous, original set of these sitting on my shelf. Fascinating stuff.

The Funk & Wagnalls New Encyclopedia, 1979 edition. We got this for free a few months ago from a family here on the Island. Sure, the internet has a lot more information, but I believe in being prepared. Besides, physical copies are better. The set also came with a two-volume dictionary, as well as four Science Yearbooks from 1980-1983. There's also a four-volume Medical & Health set that came with it, also free.

Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cooking. Don't laugh. It was a gift from my mother. It's a twelve-volume set from 1966, and there's a lot of information in there. My best friend, a trained chef, said it's an excellent resource for anyone training to be a chef (like Tanner). Besides, I've got a bunch of recipes from that set that are fantastic.

Complete or essential works of various authors, including H.P. Lovecraft, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Jules Verne, H.G. Wells, Lord Dunsany, Edgar Allan Poe, Clark Ashton Smith, J.R.R. Tolkien, and C.S. Lewis. The latter is one I only have a few books for; I've got the Narnia series, as well as the Screwtape Letters, but that's about it. There's more of him that I would want. There are a lot of other sci-fi and fantasy authors as well that I have gathered, but the above listed are the big ones.

Dictionary; I've got three so far, all excellent and big.

A World Atlas. I've got one of those, but it's from the 1960s, so it's a wee bit out of date. Still, the maps are gorgeous, and it's historical, which I like even more.

Latin and Greek learning materials. Again, even if it's not for my kids, my grandkids will hopefully learn these languages. And I've got just about everything for Wheelock's Latin, as well as the Reading Course in Homeric Greek and a printed New Testament Greek textbook.

So, what do I want to add to this magnificent pile? Not too much more, to be honest; the biggest addition would definitely be the complete Loeb's Classical Library, the little hardcovers that include the Latin (red) or Greek (green) text on one page, and the English translation on the opposite. There are over five hundred of those, so I'm not expecting to complete that set. But man, it would be a hell of a thing to have on the library shelves, wouldn't it?

A Gardening Encyclopedia. We learn by doing, but we also learn by reading. And I've got a lot to learn about gardening and small hobby farming. So, that would be a great resource to have, even if it was mostly general information.

The Catholic Encyclopedia, preferably an older version. What can I say? I love encyclopedias and have since I was a kid, and I love being Catholic and learning more about it. Obviously, it's not a book to read cover-to-cover. But it would definitely be a great resource to have around.

Authors that I would like to have either complete or essential collections: Sir A.C. Doyle, G.A. Henty, H.R. Haggard, Abraham Merritt, Leigh Brackett, L. Frank Baum, Poul Anderson, and Jack Vance. Maybe some more of Tolkien's stuff; I have his 'Big Five', but nothing else.

I think that's pretty thorough. If nothing else, it would be a great storehouse of knowledge of Western Civilization for future generations. I may never get all of it, but that won't stop me from trying.

Oh, I'll also have copies of my own books as well, because while they might not be on the level of the books I've listed above, I'm still quite proud of them. Here's the latest one, Crystal Lilac, available now in paperback and e-book formats at an Amazon website near you.

Christmas Treasures

This year, I told everyone I just wanted Amazon gift cards. Why? Because books, obviously. My boss gives all her employees $150 to order on Amazon every Christmas. Weirdly, I'm the only one who actually orders books from the world's biggest bookstore. Everyone else orders other stuff. Go figure. At least she knows who ordered the books.

In addition, I got a bunch of gift cards in my stocking, so I had a great Amazon Christmas. Naturally, I ordered a bunch of fantasy books. Inspirational reading, after all. Some of the stuff I got include an H.G. Wells collection of six novels, two Oz books for Garrett, a twelve-book volume of Lord Dunsany, a short omnibus of Fritz Leiber, the Planetary series of short stories by Stanley Weinbaum, and a collection of Clark Ashton Smith short stories. I also picked up the fourth and fifth books of the Early Church Fathers series, and a couple of books for my Latin course. All in all, it was quite the haul for literary goodness. And, of course, Wells, Dunsany, Lieber, Weinbaum and Smith are all pulp writers. Well, Dunsany and Wells were published outside of the pulps first, but they were incredibly influential on the pulps, and many of their writings were reprinted in the pulps anyway.

And yes, I'm reading these books. I'm putting the Latin to good use right now, and I'm slowly making my way through the Church fathers. They are a treasure trove for any Christian reader, with insights from many different men who all held to the same set of beliefs, and many of whom were declared saints later on. Most of them, in fact.

That's something I need to put on my next list: A book of saints. Learning about them is more important than learning about rock stars and athletes. After all, we don't get to be ballplayers in the afterlife, but we might be saints. It would be a good thing to aspire to be.

Now, I just need to build the bookshelves to hold all of these treasures...

The Marvelous Land of Oz

Published in 1904, The Marvelous Land of Oz was a sequel demanded by fans across America. The first book was a smash success, and Baum had written a script for a play that toured America in 1902. It would also be adapted into several film versions even before the most well-known one in 1939. But fans wanted more.

But while they liked Dorothy, she wasn't the most popular character. As you can see in the picture above (a reproduction of the original cover art), the Scarecrow and Tin Woodman were the breakout stars of the story. Fans wanted to know more about their adventures after Dorothy left, and so Baum wrote The Marvelous Land of Oz in response.

Land of Oz is notable for introducing the Gillikin country, which is the north quarter of Oz; its color is purple. Green, blue, yellow and red were used for the Emerald City, Munchkin land in the East, the Winkies in the West, and the Quadlings of the south. Although she doesn't make an appearance in this book, the good witch from the first book, who met with the Munchkins and sent Dorothy on the path to Oz, is the Witch of the North, so this is her territory.

The protagonist of this book is a boy named Tip, who lives with Old Mombi, an unpleasant practitioner of the magical arts. Mombi isn't a witch, though, since the Good Witch of the North doesn't like competition. So she's a sorceress, a trickster, or what have you. Anyway, she's a nasty piece of work, and when Tip tries to have a bit of fun by building a pumpkin-headed man to frighten her, she uses a magic powder to bring the pumpkinhead to life. She then decides to dispose of Tip, who escapes along with the Pumpkinhead, who he names Jack. So begins another adventure in the marvelous land of Oz.

The Scarecrow, for those who remember the first book, rules the Emerald City, and the Tin Woodman is the Emperor of the Winkies. They don't appear right away, as Tip and Jack have to make their way to the Emerald City first. On the way, they find a sawhorse, which Tip brings to life using the magic powder he stole from Mombi before escaping. Eventually they get to the Emerald City, which is under siege by an army of girls armed with knitting needles. What? It's 1904; things were different then.

The Scarecrow escapes the besieging army along with Tip, Jack, and the Sawhorse, and make their way to the Western land of the Winkies to get the Woodman's help in taking back the Emerald City. More adventures ensue, and yet another new companion joins them, the Highly Magnified, Thoroughly Educated Woggle-Bug. He's a pompous sort with a love of puns, but he proves himself to be quite useful by the end of the book.

The end of the book finds the party seeking the help of Glinda, the Witch of the South, who is searching for the long-lost princess Ozma, who was stolen away by...the Wonderful Wizard himself. Turns out he might have been a humbug, but he had a bit of a ruthless streak in him. Eventually, Ozma's fate is revealed, and everything works out in the end.

I tried to avoid the big spoilers, since this book, despite being 118 years old, isn't nearly as well-known as its predecessor. Which is a shame, because this book rocks. It was my favorite Oz book growing up, and it hasn't lost that position to this day. It's the only Oz book that doesn't feature Dorothy or the Lion, and it introduces a bunch of recurring characters that will stick around for book after book.

Baum really let his imagination run wild on this book, even moreso than with the first one. And he got very creative when he was writing about Oz. The characters are well-defined, with personality quirks and distinctive speech patterns. The action scenes are vivid and well-crafted. The descriptions, while minimal, convey the sense of the fantastic that permeates the entire series.

The art in this, and all subsequent Baum-authored Oz books, is done by John O'Neill after Baum and Denslow, the original Oz artist, had a falling-out. As you can see in the images below, O'Neill's style reflects what Denslow did, but it's definitely its own thing.

Meet Tip and Jack Pumpkinhead.

The Sawhorse and Jack in the Emerald City.

And the gang's all here. From bottom to top: Tip, Scarecrow, Tin Woodman, Jack Pumpkinhead, and the Sawhorse, meeting the Woggle-Bug, H.M, T.E.

I can't say enough good things about this book; Baum was one hell of a creative writer, with an imagination perfectly suited to entertaining children with fantastic stories and tales of adventure. If your only knowledge of Oz is the movie, or even the first book, you owe it to yourself and your kids to read this one.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

Okay, just to be clear: This is about the book by L. Frank Baum, not the Judy Garland movie. The movie is great, but the book is better. Published in 1900, it was four years before a sequel would be written; Baum didn't realize at first just how popular the book was until he started getting letters. Lots and lots of letters, from kids wanting more stories about Oz.

The book is short by today's standards of fantasy writing; even with copious illustrations, the book is only 190 pages long. But it packs a LOT into those 190 pages. There are twenty-four chapters, only a few of which are more than five or six pages long. There is an economy of words here, and a lot happens in those twenty-four chapters. Baum gets to the point, and does so in a very entertaining way.

If you've seen the movie, you know about two-thirds of the plot. Dorothy is in Kansas, cyclone hits, house lands on the Wicked Witch of the East, good witch sends her to Oz, yellow brick road, Scarecrow, Tin Woodman, Cowardly Lion, poppies, go kill the Witch of the West, flying monkeys (did you understand that reference?), bucket of water, return to Oz, Wizard is a humbug, balloon, magic shoes, there's no place like home.

However, there's quite a bit more than that in the book, believe it or not. Not only do the companions have a lot more to do besides sing and dance through the forest, but the return journey to Oz from the witch's castle takes a couple of chapters itself instead of being skipped over to get to the finale. And Dorothy doesn't leave right after the Wizard's balloon takes off without her; she has to go on yet another journey to the Good Witch of the South to find out how her silver (not ruby) shoes work. And that doesn't include the encounters with the Queen of the Field Mice, the stork, the Hammer-heads, and China Town (not that kind of China, the plate kind). All bursting with imagination and wonder, and all within a single book.

I mentioned the book is illustrated. There are at least a hundred illustrations in this book by William Denslow. Here are a few examples; many of them are in full color in the original publication.

She might be a good witch, but she ain't a beauty queen.

Shirley Temple might have been a better fit for the character, at least age wise; Judy Garland was sixteen years old, whereas Dorothy in the book is about seven.

Those are called Kalidahs, with the body of a bear and the head of a tiger. Nasty critters that would make a great addition to a fantasy role-playing game. Better than an owlbear, anyway.

This was the only Oz book illustrated by Denslow; the remainder of the Baum Oz books were illustrated by John O'Neill. I like both artists, but there is definitely something magical in Denslow's work. Even though our cultural identification of the characters is defined by the movie, Denslow's art is evocative and memorable enough to challenge the dominant images of Garland, Ray Bolger, and Margaret Hamilton.

This is a book every child should read. It is one of the all-time classics of children's literature, incredibly imaginative and still inspiring people 122 years later.

But, you know what? The sequel is actually better.

Collecting the Classics

Old books get a raw deal from a lot of people today. 'Racist, misogynist, homophobic...' The litany is well-known to all. Old books aren't 'relevant' to modern society, we are told. Old writers are out of touch. Readers can't relate to the characters. Not enough diversity or inclusion. Blah, blah, blah.

One doesn't need to read about a character identical to themselves to relate to them. I certainly don't; I can't remember the last time I read a book with an introverted half-French, half-English Canadian protagonist with Asperger's. But I relate to a lot of characters that I've read. Most readers do, regardless of what the character looks like in description. The classics, however, transcend such nonsense altogether. Anyone can relate to them, if they so choose. Anyone can read them and learn from them, if they so choose.

I find the older books simply more entertaining than modern stuff. There are always exceptions to that, of course; there are some great modern books that I enjoy. But they don't qualify as 'classics' just yet.

So, what classics am I talking about collecting? Children's classics, mostly. Things younger boys and girls can read and relate to. Why younger readers? For a couple of reasons. First, they have more time to read than most adults do. Second, they don't worry about 'relatability' or other such modern ideas; they just want to read a fun story. Third, these are fun stories. Adventures that take place all around the world, or even outside of the world. Alice in Wonderland and The Wonderful Wizard of Oz are two great examples of books that kids still love today. The characters are memorable and fun, the stories are exciting and easy to read, and their impact on culture to this day can't be ignored.

I've got a nice list of older kids' books that I've given to my boys to read during the homeschooling years. I'm hoping to get Garrett reading more as he gets older and comes out of his autism. He already loves listening to Alice and Dorothy's adventures. He doesn't care that they're girls; the stories are great. And that's why they are classics.

There are fourteen Oz books written by the original author, L. Frank Baum. Everyone knows about the first one thanks to the Judy Garland movie. But I actually preferred the second book, The Marvelous Land of Oz, when I was a kid. Others in the series include Ozma of Oz, Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz, and The Road to Oz, to name a few. With each book, Baum expanded Oz and its environs, adding new characters while retaining the favorites like the Scarecrow and Tin Woodman (who appear in almost all the Baum Oz books). Today, there are online communities of Oz fans and lots of information, including maps, flags, dynastic lineages, history books, etc. Oz is more real than some places here on Earth.

I'm starting the third book with Garrett; I'd like to do some reviews on the Oz books as we go through; I'll do the first couple at some point this week, then as we continue through the books. Physical copies, not ebooks. Paper is better.

Top 10 Heroes

Everyone has heroes. Heroes are a part of our lives from the moment we're old enough to recognize other people. For many of us, our parents are our first heroes. Dad is the strongest guy in the world, and Mom is the most beautiful woman who ever lived. They are our icons, the people who inspire us to be more than a crawling infant. As we get older, our view of heroes expands. Maybe it's a sports star, or a movie character, or a comic book. Heroes continue to inspire us as we grow up.

And as we grow, our heroes change. Sometimes for the better, sometimes...not so much. We can often fall into the trap of admiring and emulating someone who we think is heroic, but ends up having feet of clay, or worse, their heroism was only in our minds, because we thought they were cool, and 'cool' equaled 'hero' to us.

But throughout our lives, whether we recognize them or not, we all have our heroes. I'm going to list ten of mine, heroes who have inspired me as a writer and as a person. Some of them are heroes from my childhood; some are heroes from later in life, and some are recent acquaintances. But they all have one thing in common: They are heroes.

But, what is a hero? Well, that depends on each of us. We all have our different views on what a hero is. And tastes change over time; what was once considered heroic becomes problematic as society views these older heroes as racist, sexist, etc. But they are who they are, and they still have those heroic qualities that made people admire them throughout history.

In my case, my heroic tastes run to the noble and great, the mighty who protect the weak. When I played D&D, my favorite class was always the paladin. The knight in shining armor, the epitome of the medieval hero, the man who would stand unflinching before the very hordes of hell and hold the line. Stories of King Arthur and his knights always fascinated me, even to this day. But knights come in different forms, sometimes in a way we don't expect.

So, here are ten of my favorite heroes from movies, literature, comics...and real life.

10. Sir Richard Burton. The only historical figure on my list, Sir Richard Burton is one of the most incredible men who ever lived. He was a soldier, a spy, a polyglot, and a diplomat. He explored the world; he spoke over two dozen languages; he wrote prodigiously about his travels, and gave us two of the most famous (and notorious) collections of writing in English history: The first complete translation of the Arabian Nights, and the Kama Sutra. He is a titan in history, and while the number of people who remember him or his activities is dwindling, he casts a massive shadow over not only history, but literature. For more on that, check out this link at DMR Books' blog: The Literary Afterlife and Legacy of Sir Richard Burton. If a writer were to invent Burton, he would be ridiculed for creating such an over-the-top, larger-than-life character. But he was real, and he was definitely a hero.

9. Luke Skywalker. I've written about Luke before. While everyone I knew was into Han Solo, Luke was my guy. He was a paladin, even though it was called a Jedi Knight. He did what was right, he didn't fall into temptation, and he did something extremely Christian: He redeemed a fallen soul, his father, before he died. Luke Skywalker is a fantastic hero, in more than one sense. We will ignore the fake Luke Skywalker that appeared in the new sequel trilogy, because that was not Luke Skywalker.

8. Honor Harrington. The only woman on my list, she is the star of David Weber's Honorverse series of books. I know that she's a ridiculous Mary Sue, but I still like her. True, you could switch her out with a male character and, other than the romance parts of the story, you'd see nothing different. The thing that I appreciate is her absolute devotion to duty and her determination to uphold the traditions of the Navy and the Queen she serves. She's obviously and blatantly modeled on Horatio Hornblower, with not a little bit of Admiral Nelson thrown in. But there's nothing wrong with that. I've been reading her books since the first one came out, On Basilisk Station, many years ago, and I never get tired of them. Sure, I'll skim over the technical exposition to get to the action. Action is the point, anyway. And the Honor Harrington books have a whole hell of a lot of action. Space battles galore! And sword fights, just because! It's fun, and she is a great hero.

7. Conan. I'm a newcomer to the pulps; I've read a few Conan stories, and yes, I've seen the two Arnold movies (but not the Jason Momoa one). But let's face it: Conan is as larger-than-life as it gets. He's Richard Burton, minus the civilization. He gets around, he explores the world, but he always remains true to himself and his own code. I'm looking forward to reading more of Howard's greatest creation as I progress through my Appendix N list; what I've read so far makes me want to read more. As for the movie version, I prefer the second movie to the first one, which I know makes me insane. But the first one was plodding and as soulless as one of Thulsa Doom's thralls. Plus, I'm not a big fan of the R-rated stuff. The second one was more of a romp, light-hearted and silly at times, but I found it had more action.

6. Spider-Man. I always looked at Peter Parker with a sympathetic eye, because I could most definitely identify with him. Smaller, shy, bookish...Peter's trials and tribulations throughout high school resonated with me. And he was someone that, through extraordinary fortune, because extraordinary himself. But he still acted and felt like a typical high school kid, one who didn't have all the glory and the girls, like so many of us. And the thing I liked about his adventures was that he didn't always win. In fact, he often got his butt kicked the first time around. But he never gave up, he always came back and found a way to come through when it mattered. No wonder he became the most popular comic book hero on the planet for a good chunk of time.

5. King Belgarion. This one is a sentimental favorite. I didn't read Lord of the Rings until I was in high school, and while I enjoyed it (I was among the many who assumed that LotR was the ur-text for Dungeons & Dragons), I found it to be a bit of a slog to get through. The long descriptive passages turned me off, and I found my eyes glazing over as I skimmed ahead looking for some action. But David Eddings' Belgariad was my real introduction to epic fantasy. I got the first two books for my twelfth birthday (along with the first Foundation book, which made LotR look like an Edgar Rice Burroughs book). It took me a couple of tries to get into the story, since it started off rather slow, but once I got into it, I was hooked. I read the entire series as each book came out, and I reread them regularly. Garion, like Peter Parker, was a character I could identify with. Hey, he was roughly my age. And he was on this incredible journey of discovery, not only of the world around him, but of his own heritage and power. To this day, it's still my favorite fantasy series, largely because of Garion and his earnest heroism. He didn't always know what to do, but he did it sincerely.

4. Madmartigan. I wrote about this recently, too, although I focused more on the movie in general and not as much on Madmartigan. But despite his single appearance in this movie, Madmartigan was one of my favorite characters, ever. He wasn't much at the beginning; a thief, a liar and a swindler, but by the end of the movie, he had more than redeemed himself. The moment where he swears himself to Willow's service still gets to me, and his heroic one-man stand against an army (and a dragon) had me riveted. Plus, he got the girl in the end, which is always important.

3. John Carter. The foundation of fantasy and science fiction literature in the twentieth century, John Carter's shadow looms over everything. He debuted in 1912 in All-Story Magazine, and turned a whole generation of boys into readers. Without him, there's no Star Wars, no Superman, and no Dungeons & Dragons. He changed it all, creating a whole new genre of planetary romance, and setting a new standard for a superman with his fighting prowess and incredible leaping. His indomitable spirit and indefatigable endurance make him one of the deadliest warriors ever. And that was E.R. Burroughs' first written work! I've read four Barsoom books so far, and they're all fantastic. In every sense of the word.

2. Captain James T. Kirk. I was actually torn between Kirk and Cpt. Archer, his predecessor as captain of the first Enterprise. Archer's Enterprise is still my favorite of the Star Trek series, with its relatively-primitive technology and that sense of exploration and wonder that was missing from the 24th-century shows. But Kirk is still the man, and will continue to be so. His willingness to do what was right, even in defiance of the almighty Prime Directive, is one of the most important qualities of a hero. And while sometimes his stories got a bit preachy, you could always count on him to jump into the action and save the day. He was the ultimate leader, a man who could inspire everyone around him to greater heights, and he deserves every accolade the Federation ever gave him.

1. Superman. Of course it's Superman. Just as I preferred Luke to Han, there was never a question in my mind of 'Superman or Batman.' Superman just exceeds Batman in every significant way. Sure, Bruce has more money than Fort Knox, has the cool villain gallery and the great toys, but let's face it: Superman would take out Batman in about three seconds. I don't care how much prep time Bats has; Superman moves at near-light speeds, can heat-vision you from a mile away, can hear you coming from even further, and can bounce pretty much anything you throw at him.

But that's not what makes him a hero. He's the greatest hero because although he has the ability to do all that, he holds back. He's the ultimate example of how far we can go as a race, but he's still grounded with his friends, his career, his family, and his humanity. Yes, the most powerful being on the planet is still human where it counts. He's the shining, noble knight who will fly in to save the day, never hesitating to put himself in harm's way to protect the weak. He could rule the world, and no one could prevent it. But that's not what he's all about; he's about inspiring us to be greater than we are. And in the end, that is the most heroic action of them all.

If these are the kinds of heroes you like as well, you might be interested in checking out my first fantasy novel, Arrival, the first book of the Chronicles of Meterra. It's got literal knights in armor doing the right thing, carving their way in a strange new world. Check it out, and support indie publishing.

Is Opera Still a Thing?

Well, yes, it is. One of the courses I'm taking this term is on opera. Why am I taking it? Partly because I love classical music, partly because it's valuable credits for my degree, and partly because opera has a lot to do with history. And today, we actually watched an opera as a class, over Zoom.

Now, I had been thinking we were going to watching Mozart's The Magic Flute, which I would very much like to watch with Tanner, my twelve-year-old. Magic, monsters, fantasy...it's right down both our alleys. Instead, though, we watched Verdi's La Traviata, which combines the child-friendly subjects of prostitution, betrayal, and tragic death by consumption (aka tuberculosis). Quite the shift in expectations there.

Watching a movie over Zoom isn't really something I would recommend, unless you've got fantastic wi-fi. Which, being on a farm on Prince Edward Island, I do not possess. It's decent wi-fi, certainly, but not that good. So, I got to watch the stop-motion version for parts of it, as a series of still images that were supposed to be moving. The sound was good for the most part, so I got most of the singing. I just couldn't get the subtitles to link up because the video was slow.

So, why am I talking about opera? Because it relates to writing, of course. Opera is a synthesis of different arts: writing (the libretto, or play), music, and visual arts. Opera isn't something you should just listen to. It needs to be seen to be fully appreciated. It doesn't matter how fantastic the music is; it's part of a story that is meant to be seen as well as heard. When the composer and writer put together the words and the music, they can't actually show you the story without the visual component. And it's that visual component that draws people into the world of the opera, a visual component that can change the entire meaning of the story if done right.

For example, the opera we saw, La Traviata, is based on a story written by Alexander Dumas (the same guy who wrote The Three Musketeers), which was based on his own life experiences. When it was first composed, Verdi had to change the setting of the play from the mid-19th century to the early 18th century so as to distance the social commentary in the novel, play and opera from what was actually going on at the time. But the version we saw is set in the 19th century, which gives it a different feel. The costumes are closer to what people wear today, as opposed to having wigs and such.

In writing, though, we don't have that visual component to work with. In fact, all we have are the words on the page, and the reader's imagination to fill in the rest. It's both a blessing and a curse, because today's reading audiences have been conditioned to see their stories, whether in movies, television shows, or video games. It's tougher to engage the mind when all you have is words.

That doesn't mean we shouldn't try, of course. And that's why I mentioned a few posts ago that the toughest part of writing for me is the descriptions. But those descriptions are what make it possible for the reader to visualize the story in more concrete terms. The more clear the description, the better the connection the reader can make with the story. Opera uses the music and the scenery as shortcuts. That's not a bad thing, of course; opera is still very popular today among a lot of people, and you can see most of the great operas on DVD or on YouTube if you want. It's not the same as a live performance, of course, which is something I would very much like to see at some point. Assuming we're ever allowed to live normal lives again.

I plan to use my course in opera to help me bridge that gap between where my descriptions are now and where I want them to be. Any genre will do, although I prefer the happier and more mythic stories to the tragic, 'socially-relevant' ones. But then, I'm just an old-fashioned kind of guy.

Great Classical Literature...or is it?

I've been working on a project for one of my courses, which I handed in earlier this afternoon. It's a project on ancient Greek drama, specifically the playwright Aristophanes. He wrote was is known as Old Comedy, and he's the only person whose Old Comedy writings still exist; the rest are lost to history (and so are three-quarters of Aristophanes' works, as well). And, like Homer, Plato, and Herodotus, I always understood him to be a 'classic' writer, someone whose works should be read and studied to better understand the human condition, society, and life in general.

When I was younger, I picked up a great series of books called The Great Books of the Western World. I had the original, 1952 edition, which I picked up on the cheap a bunch of years ago. Aristophanes and the other great Greek playwrights are in that set, and I've read that entire volume, cover to cover. And yes, the plays were thought-provoking and entertaining at the same time. Truly inspirational writing, among the best ever put to parchment in human history.

Then I read a more accurate, modern translation. Oh, my, was that eye-opening. The translations I read were from the 19th century, public-domain translations which were used in the GBWW set to keep costs as low as possible. Anyone who's read 19th-century English translations from other languages knows that, for the most part, it's very tame. Unless you're reading Richard Burton's translation of the Arabian Nights; he didn't hold back anything in that one, especially in his copious footnotes. But otherwise, the translators held to a strict morality, and didn't expose their readers to the more outlandish things these men wrote.

Today's translators, however, have no such qualms. They relish the opportunity to present these works in their 'original' form with the most literal translations possible while still maintaining the structure of the work itself. And let me tell you, Aristophanes was not at all like the man whose works I read in that volume of Greek playwrights.

Here's a brief excerpt from his play Lysistrata, in which the title character attempts to force an end to the Peloponnesian War between Athens and Sparta by getting all the women of both cities to go on a sex strike. The first version is from Jack Lindsay's translation, done in 1925:

If they were trysting for a Bacchanal,
A feast of Pan or Colias or Genetyllis,
The tambourines would block the rowdy streets,
But now there's not a woman to be seen
Except--ah, yes--this neighbour of mine yonder.

Now, here's George Theodoridis' translation of the same lines, done in the year 2000:

If my invitation was for one of those orgies, held for Little Dick or High Dick or Low Clit, you wouldn’t be able to get through all the bum- and drum-beaters clogging the streets. But for this, no! Oh, no! Not a bloody woman in sight! Not one of them! Pause. Sees Caloniki in the distance, SL

Ah, except for my neighbour! Thank goodness… Hi, Caloniki!

Quite the difference, isn't it? Now, I would frankly prefer to read the earlier translation myself, but from my research for the project, it looks like the second one is more accurate. And that definitely changes my outlook on Aristophanes' merits as a classical writer. The rest of his plays are basically the same. He uses a lot of topical subject matter; current events, local celebrities (mostly of the political or military kind, but not always), and extant literature, what we would consider 'pop culture.' That's right, Aristophanes is the spiritual ancestor of Saturday Night Live. Except he's actually funny. And he throws in a heck of a lot more dick jokes.

Shakespeare is another one who puts more 'rude and crude' in his work. We just don't speak his kind of English anymore, so we get bogged down in all the forsooths and thines and forasmuches. But behind all that, he was quite the earthy fellow.

So, what does this mean? I don't know, really; it certainly has forced me to reevaluate my opinion of the world's oldest comedian. I mean, it's still funny, but relying on sex jokes is entirely too much like today's 'humor.' It gets old after a while. But the older translations do clean it up while keeping the humor and entertainment intact, so that's how I'm going to keep reading them. Sure, it's not 'modern.' But how 'modern' can you expect a guy to be when he's been dead for twenty-four centuries?

For some humor that doesn't rely on crudity, you might want to check out The Missing Magnate, one of my Cameron Vail mysteries, available on Amazon. And, you get a fun murder mystery as well. Double the pleasure, folks! So, support indie publishing, and read a new author today!