A strange admission for someone of my long tenure in the worlds of fantasy and science fiction, but I’d never actually read Robert E Howard’s Conan stories before. I know they’re almost archetypal examples of the genre but for some reason I’d never got round to picking them up.

That changed recently, when I bought the Audiobook “Conan the Cimmerian Barbarian” which contains every one of Howard’s tales of the black haired barbarian that was published in Weird Tales magazine. Thirty five hours long and I enjoyed every moment.

Consisting of a number of short stories and some novellas the canon covers episodes from the titular hero’s life, ranging from stories of desperate heists to cover his penury to intrigues in the throne rooms of great empires. In contrast to most of the fantasy works I’ve read these tales were tightly focused narratives of adventure, not epic feats of worldbuilding and exploration. I have to say that I am more likely to return to Conan’s world for entertainment than to Middle Earth… the latter has the grand sweep of history and fine detail, the former has pace and excitement that I never really got from Tolkien, much as I enjoy it.

Some of the stories in the Conan canon (I like those two words together) are formulaic- what the editor of the omnibus refers to as the ‘mid period stories’ when Howard, a struggling Depression era writer was writing what he knew would sell and put food on the table. These stories all had a beautiful female companion, a forgotten ruin, some diabolical enemy and usually a supernatural revelation of the ‘ancient, nameless abomination’ sort of thing. Amusingly or appallingly there was usually some (barely described, these were the 1930s after all) fanservice in the form of “lithe limbs and naked flesh” since Howard knew that if he included these there was more chance of his story getting illustrated on the cover of Weird Tales and that meant more money. It is telling that his better, longer, more developed stories eschew such gimmicks.

By the time he moved on from this period (maybe four or five short tales) he really got into his stride, abandoning the cheap cliches that the stories are perhaps unfairly identified with, and addressing larger themes of savagery and civilisation, of honour and courage. Still pacy, action-packed and engaging there is much more depth and it’s clear why his stories are still known and his character has become an iconic figure.

As for Howard’s worldbuilding – it may lack the mythic and poetic underpinnings of Middle Earth, but it is well thought out and consistent. Howard wrote a lengthy essay about the rise of the Hyborian age in which he traces the origins of each of the kingdoms and races over the course of thousands of years and the effort pays off. It’s a pleasure to vicariously visit the Hyborian kingdoms and tread the jewelled thrones of the earth beneath the sandaled feat of the grim eyed reaver – a much more complex, engaging and amusing character than he is presented in the media. No half-naked bullish beefcake, the original Conan is cunning, witty and principled exemplifying Howard’s recurring theme of contrasting the decadence of civilisation with the purity of barbarism and personal values.

I’d recommend the stories to anyone and, from a gaming point of view, even so late in my GMing career I think I’ve learned new things about pacing and description that I will bring to bear.

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Finn’s first novel A Step Beyond Context is available on Amazon.co.uk and Amazon.com and a few others as well. It’s a punchy genre-busting mystery with a heroine who is a Regency lady, a high tech mercenary and much more.

And a lovely parable for the kiddies

Originally published on my defunct LiveJournal page, now with added thoughts

I’ve always regarded Story as a powerful force, using that rather simplistic term as a catch-all for myth, metaphor, internal-dialogue and other aspects that I’ve rarely bothered to sit down and define.  A while ago, when I first discovered this blogging business, I wrote an entry on the importance of Story to individuals and how an individual’s view of the world and their place in it  is shaped by the stories they tell themselves inside their head.  It’s also a contention of mine that if you understand the Story that a person uses, that has the most power for that person, it gives you a great advantage in understanding them and – for want of a less emotive term, though I do not mean the outcome is always intend to be unpleasant or controlling – manipulating/guiding them in a particular direction.  

Continue reading “Joshua, Genocide and the General” →

“What the hell is that annoying sound?” I asked.

“Munchkins. Singing. Sorry about that.”

“Munchkins as in…”

Wizard of Oz, yes. Sorry again. Not what you were expecting I’m sure.”

“Well quite. I was expecting some sort of profound revelation about the nature of the universe, not just an irritating ear-worm from a musical. So what’s going on.”

The Magus sighed and gestured at his altar. “Elemental weapons,” he said, “You know them? Wand, sword, disc, cup. Also known as the four suits of the tarot.”

“Of course. Basic stuff,” I replied. “The wand represents fire – the active will. The sword is air, the analytical capacity of reason. The disc is earth, stability and security. The cup is water, for intuition. Look can you ask those bloody Munchkins to shut up? I’m supposed to be meditating here. It’s distracting.”

“Sorry, no. Okay, you know the basics. Go one further. Assign the elemental weapons to the cardinal directions according to the classical attribution.”

“This is pretty simple stuff, I was hoping for more… okay, okay. Don’t get scowly. Air is east, fire south, water west, earth is north. “

“Look out of the window,” he said. I hadn’t been aware of a window until now, but I looked out just in time to see a tornado fizzling out and dropping a farmhouse on a green faced witch.

“Bloody hell. Why is that movie playing out in my head?”

“It’s playing out everywhere, mate,” said the Magus lighting up a cigarette. “Which witch was that?”

“That sounds like some Hod wordplay,” I said and he smiled mercurially. “That was the wicked witch of the east.”

“And east is…?”

“Air,” said I. “Hah. And killed by a whirlwind. Nice. So she represented malign or misapplied Air? Cruel rationality and obedience to laws at the expense of feeling. Destroyed by the application of the pure elemental form.”

“Don’t feel too smug,” he said, “we’re only at the start of the yellow brick road. Yellow attributed to?”

“Mercury,” said I automatically, “representing travel and wisdom. Oh there’s Dorothy, looking I must say far too old for the character she’s supposed to be.”

“Yeah,” said the Magus, “and she wants what?”

“To go home. Ah. I see where this is going. Home and security, a return to stability and the familiar. That’s earth, yes? So she’s looking to the element of Earth. But she’s just a kid, she won’t be able to, not without some sort of guide. Her higher self maybe.”

I watched as a rubbish bubble made out of special effects appeared and a glamorous figure emerged.

“Higher self?” said the Magus, “Like a good witch. And if she’s representing earth, what direction does that refer to?”

“North,” I said, “So she’s the good witch of the north. Wow. Okay. So she’s setting the soul in need of Earth on the path of wisdom. Nice. Now can you shut those damned munchkins up?”

“Nope, it’s what they do,” the Magus said, “Might as well try to stop the sun from rising or you from being a pedantic contrarian. Keep watching.”

I watched as the dancing young girl and her dog encountered a straw man and they began a whimsical song and dance act.

“If I only had a brain,” I sang along. “He wants a brain.”

“So he’s lacking?” asked the Magus.

“Intellect. Air. She’s seeking Earth, he’s seeking Air. Now they’re on the road together. Okay. I get it. Next comes the tin woodsman.”

And sure enough there he was, all silver greasepaint and amateur body-popping.

“And since he needs a heart,” said the Magus?

“He’s lacking emotion and intuition. He wants Water.”

“Not too much though,” said the Magus “Or he’ll go rusty. Oh look who it is. The cowardly lion. And guess what he wants?”

“Courage,” said I, nodding along as I saw the four companions finally form a team. “He’s seeking Fire. Earth, Air, Water Fire. That’s pretty… well balanced for a kid’s movie.”

“Oh keep going,” said the Magus grinning like a fox licking honey off an electric fence. “Who is fighting them?”

“The Wicked Witch of the West,” I said, “And I’m way ahead of you. The west is Water, emotion. But she’s the Wicked version, the corrupt version. Emotion at its worst – hate and vengeance.”

“And how was her sister killed? The Wicked Witch of the East?”

“Air,” I said, “the whirlwind. And the farmhouse of course. You know, delivering the impact. She was killed by the pure form of her element.”

“Which of course suggests that the Wicked Witch of the West would be killed by…”

“Water,” I said, “and there she is, melting away. Wait, what about the Wizard though?”

We watched the scene unfold back in the Emerald city as Oz the Great and Terrible tried to renege on his deal with the four seekers after completion.

“He’s just a sham,” I said, “I remember this bit. He’s an illusion. A veil, like the concept of maya that needs to be pulled aside in order to pass it. Hah. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, right?”

“Or the veil?” said the Magus flicking what was left of his cigarette at the nearest of the Emerald City soldiers. “Yeah and now that great and terrible Oz is revealed as just another aspect of creation and he’s passing on the grand and ineffable wisdom that…”

“That each of the seekers had within themselves what they were seeking. They only needed awakening to that. It makes sense. Now can you please shut up the Munchkins?”

“Not yet. One last thing. Four elements represented here. Earth, Air, Fire, Water. What’s the fifth element?”

“A shitty film with Bruce Willis? Okay, okay. Spirit, right? The balancing element, the one that binds the others together in a complete whole and represents the aspiration to higher things, grants the insight to see through illusion to the reality behind.”

“That’s right chief,” said the Magus. “And which of our little crew represents Spirit?”

I looked them over and damn near face-palmed like a Picard meme.

“Toto,” I said, “Toto meaning whole, entire. Complete. Toto was with them all the time. A companion, but barely noticed. Then he exposed the truth at the end.”

“Yep,” said the Magus, “the little dog yapping at the heel of the seeker, warning them of danger and accompanying them on the journey.”

He flipped something at me, a card that I caught and turned over. The tarot card of the Fool, the pure soul wandering on his spiritual journey. With his constant canine companion accompanying him into the abyss and beyond.

“I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” the Fool said. And he was right.

I’ve recently rediscovered my collection of folk music, a genre I like for the narratives contained in the songs, if not for the affected nasal drone that some singers affect for some reason.

Listening this lunchtime I shuffled upon “The False Knight On The Road” which is on the face of it an encounter between a boy and a brigand, and which has apparently been interpreted as an encounter between a Christian soul and the devil.

It’s a good song, quite jolly and is a good active song to walk to. The repetitions make it easy to remember and sing along to.

It dawned on me today that the boy’s responses make a good example of how to resist grooming and manipulation too. A refusal to engage at every level with just the right amount of push-back to set boundaries and warn that he’s aware of what is going on without giving the opportunity for the False Knight to start playing the victim.

Also fuck the False Knight and his sales techniques, his assumptive closes (“And how many shall be mine”) his negging (“I threw your dog a stone”) and his enquiring after other victims (“Has your mother more like you”).

You can watch here

(Well I’m zero for two but I’m working on it)

Continue reading “Mens sana in corpore sano” →

I swear I didn’t set out to be one of those New Year resolution guys.  I’ve always thought that if something needs doing or changing then you either do it when it needs to get done, or you don’t, and why should a date on a calendar be the boss of me etc.

However since the New Year I’ve just felt in the mood  to change things up.   I lost a lot of weight last year and want to carry on making progress, and just in the last couple of days I felt an inkling to get back to the gym.  I’ve been rising earlier than ever and getting to work about 2 hours earlier than I need to and so I’ve decided to spend one of those hours in the gym near work.

Which of course necessitated joining the gym, buying some new clothes to work out in (since all my old stuff is now far too large) and so on.

Today was my first session and it felt good but tiring as you’d expect.   I doubt I’ll be able to raise my arms from  the desk by lunchtime.

Other stuff that feels good – I’ve decided to start meditating again.  I did a period of mindfulness stuff using the Headspace app (recommended) which helped me out a lot, but then I kind of drifted.   I feel it’s time to start up again and I’m going to be using these things as a meditation aid – since I tend to see the world in terms of Story (capitalisation deliberate and pretentious) these cards show archetypal figures devoid of faux historicity.   I’ll feed back how it works out

For more information about the Forty Servants cards visit Tommie Kelly’s site HERE