"The Doom Which Lies Upon All Things"

 

I say no matter how clearly the reason of a man tells him that all about him is changeable, and that perfect and matured things and characters upon whose perfection and maturity he reposes for his peace must disappear, his attitude in youth towards those things is one of a complete security as towards things eternal. For the young man, convinced as he is that his youth and he himself are there for ever, sees in one lasting framework his father's garden, his mother's face, the landscape from his windows, his friendships, and even his life; the very details of food, of clothing, and of lesser custom, all these are fixed for him. Fixed also are the mature and perfect things. This aged friend, in whose excellent humour and universal science he takes so continual a delight, is there for ever. That considered judgment of mankind upon such and such a troubling matter, of sex, of property, or of political right, is anchored or rooted in eternity. There comes a day when by some one experience he is startled out of that morning dream. It is not the first death, perhaps, that strikes him, nor the first loss—no, not even, perhaps, the first discovery that human affection also passes (though that should be for every man the deepest lesson of all). What wakes him to the reality which is for some dreadful, for others august, and for the faithful divine, is always an accident. One death, one change, one loss, among so many, unseals his judgment, and he sees thenceforward, nay, often from one particular moment upon which he can put his finger, the doom which lies upon all things whatsoever that live by a material change.  –from “On Experience”, Hilaire Belloc

"The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus/ Nestor, the Long-Eared Christmas Donkey"

 

          “The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus” was the last Rankin/Bass animated Christmas show to use their “Animagic” (stop-motion puppets) feature. It first aired on December 17, 1985, on CBS. The special retells the story of a more obscure book (1902) by L. Frank Baum (he of “The Wizard of Oz” fame), which gives Santa an origin narrative with a more fantastic twist. The special is paired with “Nestor, the Long-Eared Christmas Donkey” and was first released on DVD under the Warner Archive brand on November 17, 2009.

          The story is told as a flashback, framed by a meeting of the Immortals, a group of elemental spirits, who are gathered together by the Great Ak, the Master Woodsman of the World. Claus, a mortal who had been adopted as a baby by the wood-nymph Necile, has led an exemplary life of good and charitable deeds, but is now on the verge of death. Ak recounts ‘the life and adventures of Santa Claus’ to convince his fellow Immortals that the man is indeed worthy of their one and only Mantle of Immortality. Along the way his Northern residence, reindeer, gifts to children, stockings, and decorated trees are all given yet another explanation. The main villains of the piece are the Awgwas, a kind of evil goblin who try to make children do bad things by making them miserable. It ends, of course, with Claus being gifted the Mantle and becoming the immortal present-giver that he is.

          The “Life and Adventures” holds a rather odd place in the Rankin/Bass Christmas shows. Most of their other holiday specials have at least a tenuous continuity, starting with “Rudolph” in 1961 and lasting into the Eighties with only a few flat contradictions here and there. Their stories (even non-Christmas holiday specials) could be ‘calqued’ together into one long narrative.

These stories grew more fantastic (in the literary sense) and outré as time went on and less based on existing lore, with “Frosty and Rudolph’s Christmas in July” unfolding like a fever-dream Stephen R. Donaldson might have had after drinking too much eggnog; the evil Winterbolt bears a passing resemblance to his Lord Foul in machinations and manipulations. Perhaps Rankin/Bass was influenced by the fantasy works being produced in-house at the time, like “The Hobbit” or “The Last Unicorn”. Anyway, “Life and Adventures” appears in its own discrete bubble in 1985 and puts a period to the original cycle.

My personal memories of this show are, of course, not as steeped in nostalgia as others. Although still keenly interested in holiday specials at the time, and more so because it was based on a Baum book I had never read, I was in my early twenties and was bringing a more critical eye to any new offerings. If I’m recalling things correctly, I had to work my shift at Mr. Gatti’s the night it premiered but had someone record it via VCR for me. I was able to catch most of the beginning on the big in-store TV by lingering while I bussed some tables, then intermittently saw bits of it for the next hour or so. I certainly was impressed (and still am) by the opening number, “Ora e Sempre” (Today and Forever). [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlcQ3hO-EPY]

This special is not to be confused with the 2000 animated film, the similarly named and based “The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus”, created by Mike Young Productions and starring (among others) Robby Benson, Jim Cummings, Maurice LaMarche, and Hal Holbrook. This version might be fine, but somehow I have never had the patience to watch it all the way through.

“The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus” is paired on this DVD with another Rankin/Bass Christmas Animagic special, “Nestor, the Long-Eared Christmas Donkey” (1977). It is based on a 1975 song sung by Gene Autrey, who had previously popularized “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and “Frosty the Snowman”. The show is more in line with the Rankin/Bass strand typified by their “The Little Drummer Boy”, although Santa and his sleigh make an early appearance. Narrated by Roger Miller (you know, the rooster Alan-a-Dale from Disney’s “Robin Hood”) as Santa’s donkey (don’t ask), he explains how Nestor, a long-eared misfit living in the Roman era, saves the first Christmas by bearing Mary and Joseph safely the Bethlehem, thus finding his place, ‘going down in history’ like a more famous quadruped with a shiny nose. It has some few similarities to Disney’s “The Small One”, released in 1978 but based on a 1947 book, and no similarity (save one) to the 1960 song "Dominick the Donkey" (Santa's Italian Christmas donkey!) . As a show, I find it neither especially memorable nor offensive. It is simply a sort of extra bonus to my Rankin/Bass collection. 

Cycling Through My Brain: Quotes

Tolkien's Modern Reading by Holly Ordway

 

I got this book last week, and although it is a very ‘meaty’ volume, I read it (deeply absorbed) from about noon until 4 AM in the morning. I do not think I have been so engaged in a work about Tolkien since T. A. Shippey’s The Road to Middle-Earth published in 1982.

Ordway’s thesis is that we have been given a fallacious view of Tolkien as someone who read very little literature beyond the Middle Ages. She attributes this growing myth to certain simplistic views expressed by Humphrey Carpenter in the authorized biography of 1977, misunderstood statements by Tolkien himself that were taken out of context, and an amount of “filling in of DNA” from the opinions of notably anti-modern C. S. Lewis.  

She goes on to support her theory by carefully counting over 200 ‘modern’ works (defined for the purposes of the study as anything published from 1850 onward) by over 150 modern authors. Ordway cites only books that can be confirmed by Tolkien’s mention in his writings and letters, their presence in his library, their use in his teaching, interviews, and as reported by people close to him. She categorizes them neatly by type (novels, children’s books, etc.) and devotes whole chapters to big influences like George Macdonald, William Morris, and Rider Haggard. The book concludes with a neat little chart that organizes all the authors and their works. It is much more readable than the useful but rather dry listings from Oronzo Cilli's Tolkien's Library.

The scholarship on display is amazing, and gracefully shows the ten years she spent on the project. There is little that is theoretical, and what there is, is plainly marked and not included in the definite citations. There is a Photo Gallery illustrating the book (in color and half-tones) showing pictures Tolkien definitely would have seen, given his editions, and that strongly indicate an influence on his own visual style or imagination.

What Ordway’s work mainly reveals (without denying or downplaying the major medieval sources, interests, and influences on Tolkien) is that he was not some sort of crank or fuddy-duddy locked in his ivory tower but was engaged with his contemporary culture. He read works by Roy Campbell, T. S. Eliot, and James Joyce. I enjoyed finding out that he had read The Wizard of Oz and works by Robert E. Howard, H. P. Lovecraft, and Ray Bradbury. But what really tickled me was that he owned Stories of King Arthur by Blanche Winder, which was the first book I ever read of a version of the ‘Matter of Britain’ and which I have ever considered my protoevangelium to The Hobbit.

Holly Ordway’s study goes a great deal further in filling our portrait of Tolkien, who has always seemed to be a somewhat enigmatic figure. What I mainly took away from Ordway’s book (besides a meticulously and convincingly articulated case for her argument) was that Tolkien was not quite the somber, enigmatic figure that Carpenter presented us with over forty years ago. I always wondered, in the words of Charles Shulz’s Schroeder, something to effect of, “How could he have been Beethoven (or Tolkien, as the case might be) and not be happy?” Ordway leaves me with the impression somehow (without stating it out loud) that Tolkien was more cheerful than he has been given credit for.

The Story of Sir Launcelot and His Companions: Another Quest Achieved

 

Today I got a copy of Howard Pyle’s “The Story of Sir Launcelot and His Companions” (Dover Reprint) in the mail; this completes my collection of Pyle’s four Arthurian books. As can be seen elsewhere in this blog, I already had “The Story of King Arthur and His Knights” (a hardback ex-library copy), “The Story of the Champions of the Round Table” (another Dover reprint), and “The Story of the Grail and the Passing of Arthur” (another hardback ex-library copy). “Launcelot” is the third volume in the series. Pyle re-told the stories in an old chronicle style but slightly modernized prose (to make it easier for his audience) and illustrated them himself.

I started reading Howard Pyle’s work back in middle school with the “King Arthur” book and I must admit that is the only volume in the series I’ve read all the way through. Although I have parsed through the other three at one time or another, they are mainly here for their splendid artwork, to keep their elder brother company, and to set my obsessive-compulsive impulses to rest. Pyle’s writing style (though his archaic diction is part of his charm) is still rather knotty, and complicated by an extra 118 years or so. If I were younger and more patient, reading them would probably be more compelling. But if the right mood strikes someday, I will have them on hand, and I could give them a try once more.

Parenthood (1989): Into the Archive

 

Parenthood (Special Edition) Steve Martin (Actor), Rick Moranis (Actor), Ron Howard (Director)  Rated:  PG-13   Format: DVD

• Frank : [on parenting]  It's like your Aunt Edna's ass. It goes on forever and it's just as frightening.

  Gil : That's true.

  Frank : There is no end zone. You never cross the goal line, spike the ball and do your touchdown dance. Never.

"They Might Be Giants": Out of the Past and Into the Archives

          “They Might Be Giants” is the 1971 movie adaptation of the 1961 stage play by James Goldman (brother of William Goldman of “The Princess Bride” fame).

In it, retired judge Justin Playfair (George C. Scott), after the death of his beloved wife, retreats into the delusion that he is Sherlock Holmes, in an attempt to find the logic behind a world where such things happen. He soon pins all evil he comes across onto the nebulous Moriarty and goes on a Quixotic quest to find this malicious influence in the world and put an end to it. His brother, who is in desperate need of Playfair’s fortune (being in debt to gangsters), logically attempts to have him committed to an asylum, and the asylum appoints the fortuitously named Dr. Mildred Watson (Joanne Woodward) to examine him.  

“Holmes” accepts her as the natural companion on his quest, and Dr. Watson is soon confounded by his actions. It seems his one delusion has given him much clearer insight into the problems of those around him, especially those who suffer from the ‘delusions’ of honor and romanticism and art. As she follows him on his mad quest for Moriarty she marvels at the help and encouragement he gives to the marginalized eccentrics they encounter. As they are impelled along from one ‘clue’ to another, they become less doctor and patient and more two people who understand one another with growing clarity, even leading to a romance.

However, by the end of their search all the forces of conformity are on their tail, from the asylum to the police to the gangsters.  Holmes and Watson, having deciphered the final ‘clue’, go to face down Moriarty together. The ending is ambivalent: have they really tracked down the source of all evil, or has Dr. Watson descended into illusion with her patient?

This film, though written as a play in the Sixties, is highly redolent of the Seventies; one might almost say it is a transition between the ‘Romantic’ Sixties and the ‘Rancid’ Seventies.  The cast will certainly be familiar to those living through the Seventies: Jack Gilford, Rue McClanahan, Al Lewis, Oliver Clark (the name might not seem familiar, but see him and you will recognize him from dozens of TV shows), and even a young F. Murray Abraham appear. The inhumanity of ‘modern living’ is stressed, and garbage, urban decay, and inflation ooze from the modern wasteland that Holmes and Watson navigate.

 

I first saw “They Might Be Giants” in the early or middle Eighties, I think. I was at the time trying to formulate my ‘Fantastic’ world view with my own variety of clues followed from books and movies that struck my heart just so. If there was a united theme, it was that all things had a secret or shadow side for which merely practical thinking could not account.  In literature I had G. K. Chesterton (Manalive), Thomas Berger (Arthur Rex), Robert Nye (Falstaff) and others. In movies there was Cyrano de Bergerac, Heartbreak House, Dr. Detroit, You Can’t Take It with You, The Madwoman of Chaillot, and dips and dabs from a hundred films and shows. “When the world has gone insane, sanity will seem like madness.”   

I suppose the outlook I was developing would be more technically the Romantic point of view (not in the smoochie sense of the word, but in the adventurous sense). It seems to me now that it was in danger of becoming a terribly Gnostic ideal, it that it can be seen to declare that you are not what you appear to be but are something completely different. I think it is truer to say that you are what you appear to be (say a fat, clumsy old man) but that you are more than meets the eye. And the Romantic Ideal cannot stand on its own. “Reason and Imagination are the two wings of the brain; lacking either one the mind only goes hopping along and cannot fly.”

 It turns out the edition I got lacks the wacky supermarket episode near the end which was there the first time I saw it; I believe that it had been tacked onto the original play for the film, anyway. The only edition that includes the scene costs from $150 (used on Ebay) to $346.97 (used or new on Amazon). I can be content with my copy for $16 and watch the missing clip, if I wish, on YouTube.

Quotes from The Mix Tapes

 

Mildred Watson: God! You're just like Don Quixote, you think everything's always something else!

Playfair/Holmes [Laughs]: Well he had a point. Of course, he carried it a bit too far. He thought that every windmill was a giant. That's insane. But, thinking that they might be... well… all the best minds used to think the world was flat. — But, what if it isn't? — It might be round — and bread mold might be medicine. If we never looked at things and thought of what they might be, why, we'd all still be out there in the tall grass with the apes.

"All is (Fairly) True": Into the Archive

 

“All is True” is a 2018 film written by Ben Elton (writer of the comedy series “Upstart Crow” – among other luminous deeds) and starring Kenneth Branagh, Judi Dench, and Ian McKellen. It is an autumnal movie, dealing with the autumnal years of the life of William Shakespeare, so I have found it very seasonable viewing fare.

The story: after the burning of the Globe Theatre in 1613, Shakespeare gives up the writing of plays and returns home to Stratford, from where he has been more or less absent for twenty years. He finds he must repair not only his relationship with his family, but with his hometown, his old London friends who wonder why he left them, and his memories of a son who died too young.

Much of “All is True” is speculative, of course, a sort of dancing around known facts. There is some dallying with the idea of the “whiff of Popery” about the Shakespeare family as well as a supposed love affair with the Earl of Southhampton, but nothing that can be pinned down if either notion offends you. The title “All is True” (taken from the alternate title for “The History of Henry the VIII”) must, as with any work of biographical art, be taken with a pinch of salt.

The central mystery of the film has nothing to do with any of those sorts of things and won’t be spoiled by me, and there seems little reason (beyond that is intriguing and artistically devised) to believe it is ‘true’. It is magnificently filmed, wonderfully acted, and reaches an emotionally satisfying ending.

The pacing is slow and thoughtful, giving the viewer time to consider the beauty of the setting and each new revelation. It did not do spectacularly at the box office (it was the beginning of our own plague times and did not have as many explosions or sex scenes or super-heroes as might have appealed to a wider audience) so did not get as many watchers as it perhaps deserves. But it is a worthy piece of art that may prove to have very long legs in the future.    

More Walls Broken: Into the Archive

More Walls Broken by Tim Powers  (Author), Jon Foster (Illustrator)

As this ingenious new novella, More Walls Broken, begins, a trio of academics have just entered a deserted California cemetery late at night, bringing with them a number of arcane devices aimed at achieving an equally arcane purpose. What follows is the sort of dizzying, mind-expanding entertainment that only the always reliable, always astonishing Tim Powers could have written. These three men, professors in the “Consciousness Research” department at Cal Tech University, have come together to perform a seemingly impossible task. Their goal: to open a door between the world of the living and the world of the dead, and to capture the ghost of the recently deceased scientist Armand Vitrielli. For their own desperate reasons, they hope to avail themselves of the secrets Vitrielli left behind at the time of his death. Their experiment, naturally, fails to come off exactly as planned. A door between the worlds does, in fact, open, letting in something—someone—completely unexpected, and setting in motion a chain of events that will reverberate throughout the narrative. Intricate, intelligent, and always thoroughly absorbing, More Walls Broken mixes fantasy and quantum physics in utterly unique fashion. The result is a brilliantly imagined account of multiple realities and unintended consequences that is pure dazzle, pure storytelling, pure—and unmistakable—Tim Powers. In book after book, story after story, Powers has set the standard for literate imaginative fiction. With this essential, beautifully realized novella, he has done it once again. – Amazon

Cyrano de Bergerac: Into the Archive

Cyrano de Bergerac (1950), starring Jose Ferrer and Mala powers. The transfer, by Alpha Video, is poor, rather blurry, the picture occasionally shaky and the soundtrack skips now and then. But what can I expect for a copy that costs only $5? Fortunately for me, once the story gets going that all vanishes and I am once more caught up in the story of a man who is all honor, love, and intellect, but who feels keenly his rejection by society because of his outward appearance. I see now that there are better remastered editions, but this one will do for now.

I remember the first time I saw the film, back when I was in high school. Our creative writing teacher knew that it was coming on that weekend, and suggested that Mike and I take the opportunity to see it. We did not knowing exactly what to expect, but determined to give it a try.

Saturday afternoon came and we settled down to watch. Unfortunately Pop (whose idea of a proper movie was a good Western) had settled down in his recliner and was determined to be a film critic for his idealistic sons, perhaps all the more so because we had hinted he might want to do something else as it was probably not his cup of tea.

When in the first scene of the movie the slimy, posing actor Montfleury came on stage and began to declaim, Pop's scorn was loud and palpable. I think he thought it was all going to be like that. Mike and I tried to get him to settle down so we could hear the movie and give it a fair chance. He was having none of it.

Then Jose Ferrer came on as Cyrano and voiced Pop's exact opinions about Montfleury.  That took him by surprise, I think. And then? "Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles!" By the time the film was over, even Pop had to admit it was not the exercise in sissiness he thought it was going to be; in fact I think he even begrudgingly liked it.

Anyway, that is the primary memory I have of it, beyond the film itself. G. K. Chesterton was very fond of Rostand's play (the source material) and it tickles me a bit that the rotund, genial, amateur poet Ragueneau (played by Lloyd Corrigan) greatly resembles Chesterton. And that is all I have to say about that right now.

 

 

The Complete Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm: All New Third Edition Translated by Jack Zipes

I used to have the original edition of this book (it has a different cover) which I gave to my nephew Kameron when he formed an attachment to it. That has allowed me to eventually upgrade to this volume. It is a snappy translation by scholar Jack Zipes (whose work is represented elsewhere in my library) that is further graced by classic illustrations by artist John B. Gruelle. 

But of course the feature that appeals to me most is the 'Complete' part of the title. Most editions of Grimms have only the most popular or familiar tales; this one includes the grimmest, or the most Germanic, or the most religious tales (including stories featuring saints or even Christ himself) that usually get edited out of more modern collections. I like having the entire work to refer to, not some sort of truncated or bowdlerized version, no matter how entertaining (which works well enough for children). But I am old enough and curious enough to want more. This is not so much a virtue as a mental condition. 

Beauty and the Beast (1949): Into the Archive

Jean Cocteau's Beauty and the Beast has been on my radar since at least my years in middle school when our Drama teacher Mr. Daryl Fleming spoke to us about it in glowing terms; that was only re-inforced in high school by his brother, our Creative Writing teacher, Mr. David Fleming. Finding the film and watching it was another thing altogether, as these were the days when even VCRs were scarce on the ground. But finally it came on PBS one night and we were able to see for ourselves this high water mark in Fantasy, Romance, and Cinema. My appreciation has only grown through the years. 

There is little I can say or add about this classic. I am certainly glad to have my own copy now, as it emerges on TV only at certain magic intervals that I have a hard time divining.

Common Sense, Common People: From The Commonplace Book

 

Modern emancipation has really been a new persecution of the Common Man. If it has emancipated anybody, it has in rather special and narrow ways emancipated the Uncommon Man. It has given an eccentric sort of liberty to some of the hobbies of the wealthy, and occasionally to some of the more humane lunacies of the cultured. The only thing that it has forbidden is common sense, as it would have been understood by the common people.

G.K. Chesterton: The Common Man.