From the Shadow Library: Masters of Atlantis

 

"Lamar Jimmerson is the leader of the Gnomon Society, the international fraternal order dedicated to preserving the arcane wisdom of the lost city of Atlantis. Stationed in France in 1917, Jimmerson comes across a little book crammed with Atlantean puzzles, Egyptian riddles, and extended alchemical metaphors. It's the Codex Pappus - the sacred Gnomon text. Soon he is basking in the lore of lost Atlantis, convinced that his mission on earth is to administer to and extend the ranks of the noble brotherhood." - Amazon. Charles Portis is also the author of "True Grit". His humor here is described as 'deadpan'. Although it seems it could be just my cup of tea, I somehow never did enjoy it.

Terry Pratchett's Discworld Imaginarium: Merry Christmas to Me!

From the Wish List: Terry Pratchett’s Discworld Imaginarium

Paul Kidby, Sir Terry Pratchett's artist of choice, provided the illustrations for The Last Hero, designed the covers for the Discworld novels since 2002 and is the author of the bestseller The Art Of Discworld.

Now, Paul Kidby has collected the very best of his Discworld illustrations in this definitive volume, including 40 pieces never before seen, 30 pieces that have only appeared in foreign editions, limited editions and BCA editions, and 17 book cover illustrations since 2004 that have never been seen without cover text.

If Terry Pratchett's pen gave his characters life, Paul Kidby's brush allowed them to live it, and nowhere is that better illustrated than in this magnificent book. - Amazon.

And yesterday morning it was off of the Wish List and into the Christmas collection, a weighty, beautiful art book that demanded that its own space be opened on the shelf that holds all my Pratchett. A stunning tribute to Sir Terry's Discworld and to the man himself.

From the Shadow Library: Robert Don Hughes

 

The Riddle of the Wren: From the Shadow Library

 

Seeing Charles de Lint's contribution to The Book of Ballads and Sagas reminded me that I once had a copy of this book, which I never really got into and eventually sold. I see now that it was de Lint's first novel (1984), and that in the intervening thirty-four years he has built up quite a reputation and career. Good for him!

The Book of Ballads and Sagas: Off of the Wish List and Into the Archive

The Book of Ballads and Sagas (2018), by Charles Vess (artist), Neil Gaiman, Charles de Lint, Jeff Smith, et. al (authors), came in yesterday, another part of my Christmas collection (books bought with money I received as a present), and I was finally able to see what it was all about. I was kind of excited, for the ingredients (folk songs, a great artist, famous authors) all seemed to augur quite an experience.

          The volume is a bound serial of graphic comics, originally in four issues, reproduced in black and white. It contains several writers’ interpretations (or re-interpretations) of a number of folk ballads, which are then printed in full in the original version, so you can see what the people had to work with. The result is a rather mixed bag.

If you are a fan of folk ballads, I don’t know if you will appreciate the wrenching of meaning that occasionally seeks to change the import of the songs (I think the section ‘Barbara Allen’ is particularly egregious here). If you are a fan of comic book stories, I don’t know if you will appreciate the sometimes scrappy and incomplete storytelling. Anyway, that is how it took me. If you are looking for the appropriation and rewriting of folk culture to serve “modern” mores, it may not bother you.

It does not particularly bother me, but it does not attract me either so much as distract me. There is much room for interpretation in a ballad, after all; the story it gives is often skeletal, at best. “The Black Fox” as told by Emma Bull seems to be particularly well-done, but I don’t know if that is because this is the first time I have heard it and don’t have any memories or images attached to it as I do for “Thomas the Rhymer” or “Tam Lin” or “Alison Gross”.

The only “saga” included in the book is “Skade” by Robert Walton. While Skade is an actual character of Norse myth (she is a giantess who winds up marrying Njord, one of the gods), I have been unable to tell if there is an actual saga of her deeds, or if Walton is merely sewing together elements of myth for his own story. “Skade” comes near the end of the book, is incomplete, and includes a rather rambling “script” for the comic.

As if not wanting to end things on such a confusing note as “Skade”, Vess concludes with a grab-bag of his art (old covers, fantasy themes, and such), ending with one of his own stories, which he admits is neither a ballad nor a saga. It concerns a travelling show, a witch, and a scarecrow, more like a tale by Bradbury than anything else. Its inclusion is puzzling but seems to confirm the hotch-potch nature of the book.

“Ballads and Sagas” is a sort of casserole that never quite seems to gel thematically. It is presented well, and parts are quite appealing, and on the whole I’m satisfied that I have it, if only for its contributions by some of my favorite authors. It kicked up a memory for me from the Shadow Library, which I shall deal with later. But I can’t say I’m in love with it or overly enthusiastic about it or would heartily recommend it. So, there it is. 

The Annotated American Gods

 

Yesterday (January 4) fresh on the heels of The Annotated Gulliver’s Travels I got another book in the mail, The Annotated American Gods (2020) by Neil Gaiman, with notes by Leslie S. Klinger. This is the third iteration of the book I own; the first was an edited paperback, the second was a Tenth Anniversary edition with the author’s preferred text, and now I have this annotated edition of that preferred text, which includes a previously wandering episode where Shadow (the protagonist) meets Jesus (or at least a version of him), which makes this the most complete version yet.

The notes by Klinger are of course what makes this version unique; they not only identify the many mythological beings referred to in the book, the actual locations that are visited, and the historical events alluded to in passing, but include illustrations, old photos, and even color stills from the “American Gods” mini-series. Klinger benefits greatly from working closely with Gaiman, but notes details that seem to baffle the author himself at this late date.

There are many notes (and they are in a sense the least compelling and most technical points) that record the edits that Gaiman made in the first publication and then restored in the preferred text. But they, and notes made in the original manuscript while Gaiman was writing, give an interesting insight into the author’s creative process.

Klinger has had much experience with working on annotations, including works by Lovecraft, Arthur Conan Doyle, Bram Stoker and Mary Shelley, areas which in my younger days were Leonard Wolf and William Baring-Gould territory.

I spent yesterday and today reading the book with relish, finally finishing it once more about 8 PM this evening. I found it as compelling as ever, almost compulsively so, and somehow a different experience in this edition in a way that is hard to define. It might have something to do with the dimensions of the book (10 inches tall by 8 ½ inches wide); the episodes seem to have more room to breathe and so move quicker. But that might just be me.

This is a lovely book. I am now left with the quandary of whether to place it with my Neil Gaiman books or with my other annotated editions. The sturdiness, beauty, and completeness of the volume inspired a strange thought as I finished reading, the thought that it would go on long after I was no longer in the picture, either passing to some member of my family or a stranger if it was just sold when I was gone. I wondered who might get it, and what they would think (if they ever did) of who had it before. I have this book today and it will inevitably belong to someone in the future. They are a mystery to me. Perhaps they will wonder who owned it before them, and what he was like, and what he got out of it, as I wonder what they will be like. Maybe it will pass through many hands; maybe it will disappear in fire or flood. Perhaps in some afterlife we former owners will meet and say, “Oh, so it was you!”

The Annotated Gulliver’s Travels

 

Happy New Year, and a Happy Birthday to J. R. R. Tolkien, who if he were alive would have been 130 years old today, equal to the third oldest Hobbit in history. That would be Gerontius (the Old) Took, Bilbo’s grandfather. Bilbo would of course surpass him by one year shortly before going over sea. Of course, the oldest was Gollum/Smeagol (‘of Hobbit kind’) at 589, but then, he had extended help.

Today I also received the first book of the year, The Annotated Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift, with notes by Isaac Asimov. This was ordered on December 30^th as one of a batch I sent off for with money I got for Christmas. It arrived surprisingly early.

Now, I cannot exactly claim the Travels as one of my very favorite books, although it is of course a classic of enormous cultural influence and importance which I have greatly enjoyed when the mood strikes me. Therefore, it was with some dismay that I realized that I had sold my old paperback and was without any ‘real world’ copy. But there was a very felicitous remedy for my dilemma.

          I love an annotated edition, and I had read this one years ago, either in high school or college. I had never particularly cared for Isaac Asimov, either authorially or personally, but I could not fault his research or his marshalling of facts, and I enjoyed the selections from contemporary art and the illustrations selected from editions of over two hundred years (including some pictures by Fritz Eichenberg, one of my favorite artists). With Christmas money in hand, I finally popped on this deal.

    It is going, of course, onto the shelf with my other annotated books, as soon as I have thoroughly gone through it again. It is, of course, a famous work of satire, a travelogue of wonders, an adventure tale, proto-science fiction (which is why I suppose Asimov was chosen to annotate it), and yet it has somehow been relegated to the children’s shelf for the last century or so. This may be attributed to the “conceit of big and little men” as Samuel Johnson sniffingly dismissed Swift’s creation, with its suggestion of elves and giants. But it is more and other than that.