WPWS: Cast and Crew

KOPPA is a young wizard, the last pupil of Dunwolf, and the last full-fledged wizard on Ortha. Now that the war is over and Barek can neither co-opt nor kill those with magical potential, Koppa wishes to travel the land and find recruits for proposed magical training.

VARNIK is a prince, sixteen, the younger son of King Taryn. As something of a spare, he has been allowed to go on this mission to represent the king’s authority. Although he projects a haughty and regal demeanor, inside he is insecure; he is in a position he hasn’t earned.

ROTH is the High General of the Forlan Army (Emeritus); he is on the downswing of middle age (for a Morg, say one hundred and seventy).  He is the Quest’s muscle. His experience and skill make up for any aging he might be facing, and he is ready to go on one last adventure while he still can.

MOQ is Roth’s son, only ten years old but stronger than any human twice his age. He has one dream, to learn magic, a talent thought impossible for a Morg. He has stowed away on the quest in the hopes that somehow Koppa can teach him. He now serves as helmsman and cabin boy.

KETTA is eleven years old, and Koppa’s very first magical recruit. Besides having a talent for magical healing, she is well-versed in the ordinary skills of health care. An orphan, she now travels with the quest rather than journeying back to the City. Well-balanced, commonsensical, and compassionate.

JEFFID is a Munkoon, an unusual, mischievous little creature, like a cross between a monkey and raccoon. He is thievish and greedy but clever beyond most beasts.  Once rescued and protected by Varnik, he considers the prince his master and follows wherever he goes.

ZIN is one of the last Wolf-Shades left, evil sorcerers, lieutenants of Barek. Though he does not feel up to challenging Koppa yet, he is shadowing the quest, doing what he can to hinder them and biding his time to strike, recruiting his own forces. His Wolf is a deadly magical minion, tied to him by spells. Zin wants to set himself up as the new Dark Power. 

Since I started using Grok, I began using it to produce working sketches of characters for the series, The Wizard, the Prince, the Warrior, and his Son. Though they aren't all perfectly accurate to my vision, I find them to be a useful tool and an amusement as I try to hone in on concepts. Grok seems to have a peculiar difficulty with Morgs; try as I might to explain them, we keep getting fat gorillas in armor. Moq is the least satisfactory image here, but the closest I could get just yet.

They may look like a batch of fantasy cliches, but that's how I like'em. Their peculiarity is in their characters and the stories. Cliche? Nay, archtype!

Friday Fiction: Expatriates of England

EXPATRIATES OF ENGLAND

 

We are expatriates of England,

Though we were never there.

We long for English hills and dales;

We pine for English air.

 

We speak of stands of magic woods

And talk of ancient kings,

Of tea, and toast, and old lamp posts,

Of stars, and faery things.

 

Though realists say we long

For a land that never was,

As far away as Middle-earth,

As fabled now as Oz,

 

Mere words cannot kill our hope.

We still stand staunch and strong,

And dream our dreams of England,

And sing of it in songs.

 

-   The Broadsheet, 1985

 

“It was only a shadow or copy of the real Narnia which has always been here and always will be here: just as our own world, England and all, is only a shadow or copy of something in Aslan’s real world.” – The Last Battle, C. S. Lewis

At the time I wrote this poem, I was more concerned with the industrialization and modernization of the 'green and pleasant land.' Now I'm also concerned with its deculturization, the loss of its tweedy and stodgy charm. Harrumph. I must admit the mention of Oz (characteristically American) was rather jarring, but I needed the rhyme.

'Here, the intersection of the timeless moment/ Is England and nowhere. Never and always.' -Little Gidding, T. S. Eliot 

I Grok Moq

I have recently been introduced to the pleasures of generating AI pictures using Grok, and have been working on images illustrating concepts and characters from my proposed series, The Wizard, The Prince, The Warrior, and His Son. I am currently working on Episode Five. 

This is what Grok came up for me for the Wind-Wagon, the principal mode of transportation during the Quest that fuels the series. It is pretty accurate except for the ports for cannon; no gunpowder in my fantasy world. I am trying to produce portraits of the whole Crew who make up the principal characters. I've had some success except for Moq (the Son of the title). He is a young Morg, a member of our original fantasy race, and Grok can't seem to bend its mind around my descriptions.

John was able to produce a pretty good picture of Roth, another Morg and the Warrior of the title, but had to use as a prompt an actual picture I drew years ago (see elsewhere in this blog). I'm not sure which program he used and it didn't come out perfectly either.

I guess I'm going to have to brush up my old drawing skills and see if my stiff, numb fingers can produce a prototype for Grok to fill out. If it works, I'll have the whole Crew available to help me visualize stuff. 

Meanwhile here's a picture of Dunwolf, a wizard who has appeared in several related stories on the Niche. Easier to produce, as he's mostly human. At the time of the series he is basically history, but his teachings and philosophy are still a big influence.

Me, ME, ME!

This represents a little project I did back in the last years of the 20^th Century, when I had my first computer and copy ink was cheap and plentiful. What I did was makes scans of photos of me through the years, blow them up to a page size, and then made a sort of collage/paneled pin-up on my bedroom door.

I did this not so much out of vanity but more as a psychological experiment, a sort of record of how I developed, ballooned, grew hairy, then scrimpled with age. To see my past selves all staring at me, through various stages of hopefulness and expectation (and yes, somehow, judgement) produced a peculiar feeling of responsibility, an indefinable feeling of continuity that might best be summed up as “Get busy, old man.” And, in an odd way, it was a cheering section. You’ve come this far; make it count.

I decided to memorialize it with a Polaroid (do you remember Polaroids? More clumsy and expensive than just snapping a picture with a phone), but I could only fit it in in two go’s. It’s just as well I did, because in due time I tripped and spattered some tea across it. I took it down and I still have the splashed pages tucked away somewhere in the Family Files. But I have these scans of the Polaroids, themselves now a reminder of the past Brer who made them.

 

The Horror. The Horror.

Well, it has become obvious that Netflix, having excreted on Tolkien’s world, is all set to vomit on Lewis’s Narnia this November in the form of their new film of The Magician’s Nephew. There are certain parasites that attach themselves to higher life forms, hollow them out, and force them into suicidal actions. They kill the host and benefit themselves. The comparison is apt. Principal photography wrapped on January 31^st. Listen to all these empty buzz words. Most of them are direct quotes.

According to Netflix CEO Rich Gelfond, Greta Gerwig’s Narnia will feature a contemporary, rock-influenced sound, with artists like Pink Floyd and The Doors cited as examples of the tone fans can expect. The film’s score is composed by music producer Mark Ronson, who recently worked on Barbie. Producer Amy Pascal made a remark in 2024, when she said “This is a real blockbuster movie that’s being made for [IMAX and Netflix] and you know, I guess I do have to talk a little about why I’m so excited about it. This is not your mother’s or your grandmother‘s Narnia. The music in it is unbelievably contemporary music, which IMAX fans like. I’m not going to say specifically, but things like Pink Floyd and The Doors. You know that kind of music which people go to see in IMAX.”

 IMAX Investor Day presentation IMAX’s Executive VP and Chief Content Officer Jonathan said, “And of course, in November, we are bringing visionary filmmaker, Greta Gerwig’s [who did uncedited work on the recent live-action Snow White] bold, reimagining of the world of Narnia, exclusively to IMAX screens around the globe as a Filmed for IMAX title.”

“We have one of the most singular creative voices and commercial forces in film, making a truly epic blockbuster film that will only be available in IMAX for fans around the world,” he added.

““Gerwig, whose films have found fresh, original ways into beloved stories, brings her singular vision to Lewis’s iconic world explored in The Chronicles of Narnia series.”

 The film’s producer Amy Pascal had also previously claimed, “It’s a very new take on Narnia. It’s all about rock and roll.”

Additionally, during the IMAX Investor Day presentation IMAX’s Executive VP and Chief Content Officer Jonathan Fischer made it clear the film is a “reimagining” of Lewis’ work.

They have made it clear that they are ignoring the protests of millions of faithful Narnia fans: they own the rights and will do whatever they want.

Finally, the film is also rumored to have cast Meryl Streep to play a sex-swapped Aslan.  “Oscar winner Meryl Streep is in talks to play Aslan the Great Lion in Greta Gerwig and Netlfix’s Narnia movie, we have confirmed with sources.” We haven’t heard yet if this is true. Will Aslan appear wearing a Gerwig? One thing we can almost be sure of is that the "rock'n'roll" (which is probably a reference to the Music of Creation that Aslan uses to sing Narnia into being) will not be up to the quality of Pink Floyd OR The Doors.

The Lord of the Rings: The Houses of Healing (Part Two)

‘Now as the sun went down Aragorn and Eomer and Imrahil drew near the City with their captains and knights; and when the came before the Gate Aragorn said: ‘Behold the Sun setting in a great fire! It is a sign of the end and fall of many things, and a change in the tides of the world.’

He declares he will not enter Minas Tirith just yet. It has been in the rule of the Stewards for many years and to enter it unbidden might seem like a challenge, and cause upheaval among the people at this time of trouble. He’ll camp outside until welcomed in.

Eomer says that he’s already risen the standard of Elendil and the kings; will he let that be humbled? But Imrahil says he is wise; Denethor (whom he still believes is alive) is proud but old and set in his ways, and he’s been acting odd since Faramir was stricken down. ‘Yet I would not have you remain like a beggar at the door.’

‘Not a beggar,’ said Aragorn. ‘Say a Captain of the Rangers, who are unused to cities and houses of stone.’ He has his banner furled and takes off the Star of the North-kingdom and gives it to Elladan and Elrohir to keep for him.

But Eomer and Imrahil go into the City and go up to the Citadel, looking for the Steward to report and confer with. But when they come to the Hall of the tower his chair is empty, and before it is the body of Theoden, covered in a cloth of gold, laid in state with sword and shield and guarded by twelve knights of Rohan and twelve knights of Gondor. The peace of death is upon him, and he seems young, and wise beyond the reach of youth.

Imrahil asks of a guard for the Steward and is told he is in the Houses of Healing. And Eomer asks about Eowyn. Shouldn’t she be lying here with Theoden, in no less honor? Imrahil answers that she was still alive when they bore her in; didn’t Eomer know?

‘Then hope unlooked-for came so suddenly to Eomer’s heart, and with it the bite of care and fear renewed, that he said no more, but turned and went swiftly from the hall; and the Prince followed him.’ It is evening outside, and stars shine in the darkness above. Outside the Houses of Healing they meet Gandalf and ‘one cloaked in grey.’ They ask for the Steward; has he been hurt? And what of the Lady Eowyn?

Gandalf says she is inside, but near death. And the Steward is the wounded Faramir, for Denethor is now dead and his house in ashes. ‘And they were filled with grief and wonder at the tale he told.’ Imrahil says it is a sad day when both Rohan and Gondor lose their rulers. Eomer is new King of Rohan; with Faramir in peril, shouldn’t they now send for Aragorn?

‘And the cloaked man spoke and said: ‘He is come.’ He throws back his hood and it is Aragorn, wrapped in the grey cloak of Lorien, his only token the green stone Galadriel gave him. Gandalf has begged him to come. He is here not as king, though, but only as Captain of the Dunedain of the North. He says by his counsel Imrahil, as the Steward’s near kinsman, should rule until Faramir awakes, but that all their actions should be ruled by Gandalf in their ‘dealings with the Enemy.’ And Eomer and Imrahil agree.

‘Then Gandalf said: ‘Let us not stay at the door, for the time is urgent. For it is only in the coming of Aragorn that any hope remains for the sick that lie in the House. Thus spake Ioreth, wise-woman of Gondor: The hands of the king are the hands of a healer, and so shall the rightful king be known.’

Notes

“The peace and youthfulness of the dead often represent a transition from earthly suffering to a state of calm, eternal rest, as described in literature and spiritual, as well as scientific, contexts. This state is frequently characterized by a release from fear, shame, and physical limitations, creating a "marble sleep" or serene, unchanging, and youthful stillness.” – AI summation.

Aragorn is very careful not to enter as merely a conquering hero, lest he seem too high-handed. All his claims to the kingdom must be established and proved first; he is not merely a victorious warrior; he is rightful king. His humility seems a little wry when says to tell people he is shy and not used to such high falutin’ stone buildings.

Ioreth seems to be a name that simply means old woman. That the hands of a king have the power to heal is an old medieval idea; the power was supposed to descend on them when they were sacramentally anointed. It is mentioned in Shakespeare’s Macbeth, where Edward the Confessor is mentioned as having the power. It is a form of laying on of hands, called the Royal (or King’s) Touch, and was said to cure the King’s Evil (scrofula, a tubercular infection). The last monarch of England to perform the Royal Touch was Queen Anne in the early 1700’s. The infant Samuel Johnson was among the people she touched, to indifferent results.

Mike at Sixty-Four

Today would have been my brother Mike’s 64^th birthday. My mind kind of baulks when I try to imagine a 64-year-old Mike; would he wear a grey beard? Would he be fatter or thinner? How much of his great strength would he have left? Would he be plagued with any of the other health problems that bedevil the rest of us boys or would he have his own peculiar ailments? Where and how would he live? Would he, could he, finally be happy? Speculations that can never be known or will ever be known, now. For good or ill, the matter is settled.

I was watching Crimes and Misdemeanors the other day, and I was reminded by the accent of the little old professor in it that in the past I could do a passable version of him and that Mike had wanted me to do it as a voiceover on a project he was speculating on. And that led me to thinking about his favorite movies and music and above all authors, and how his own Archive was scattered to the winds, and of how much it revealed about him, and of how much of it could I remember.

For a moment I was panicked by how little came to mind. There was of course first and always Ernest Hemingway, whom Mike looked upon almost as a father figure and role model. Straight-forward, hard-writing, hard-drinking, a man’s man who knew his hunting and who could throw a punch and write a lean, sinewy prose. The fact that Heminway ultimately committed suicide was an unfortunate element in the mix; it always suggested it as an alternative to suffering. Thankfully it never came to that.

But as I thought more and more about it, more authors sprang to mind. The trouble was there were almost too many to remember, and John recalled more. John Steinbeck, F. Scott Fitzgerald, William Faulkner, John Gardner, Herman Melville, William Shakespeare, William S. Burroughs, Jean-Ferdinand Celine, Charles Bukowski, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Leo Tolstoy, Cormac McCarthy, Thomas Harris. They came in layers through his life, first American Modernism, then Russian Realism, then Outsider stuff, then Modern American Gothic; with Shakespeare and Melville sprinkled liberally throughout.

And almost inextricably linked with that was his taste in music. The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, Tom Petty, Van Morrison, Boomtown Rats, Pink Floyd, Roger Waters, David Bowie, The Clash, Big Audio Dynamite, Nine Inch Nails. Music that tended to struggle with Issues, and Dark Emotion, and Troubled Relationships. There had to be real meat in the stew, something to get your teeth into and chew a bit.

Along with Books and Music, I wanted to include Movies, but fewer examples sprang to mind. The Godfather I & II, Apocalypse Now, The Seven Samurai, The Seventh Seal, M, and Jaws, of course. These are films that I can definitely state had his loyalty. I’m sure there were many more, but again, my mind baulks. He was less demonstrative about film, but again, you can see the themes of Struggle and Survive, with very little Sentiment.

Which I think contradicts an ultimate truth about my brother, which is that he was a man of great love and loyalties. But he had been hurt: the disillusionment of religion (the hypocritical JW’s), a tragic high school romance (rejection), our parents seeming indifference to his future (what did they know about college?); all had made him wary about where to place his trust. I think his approach to art, whether literature, music, or movies, was the rejection of sentiment and the development of a hard outer armor, that tested and turned whatever was flung at it. Something tough to protect the tender soul underneath.

Before he passed away, I think he was beginning to come out of his shell. As an uncle, he could be a better kind of a parent, and get love that was sincere and adoring. His caregiving job was a good outlet for his inner teacher and guard-dog. He was responding to the arguments of a cleaner kind of religion. If he had lived, who knows where he would be now?

Happy Birthday, Mike. We remember. We remember, though we can forget so much.