Showing posts with label H.P. Lovecraft. Show all posts
Showing posts with label H.P. Lovecraft. Show all posts

Sunday, May 7, 2017

Beginnings and Endings

Some recent events have got me looking back upon how I got started in this field.  I first read Tolkien in the summer of 1973, and for the next few years I looked for anything similar to Tolkien to read.  There were some notable successes, like Lord Dunsany, Ursula K. Le Guin, Clark Ashton Smith, and Patricia A. McKillip.  I relished what I could then find of the Ballantine Adult Fantasy series, which ceased publishing any new titles in 1974.

I started studying the fantasy field further when I started buying some new bibliographical resources. Four stand out after all these years.  The first I bought was H.P. Lovecraft's Supernatural Horror in Literature, in the Dover edition with an Introduction by E.F. Bleiler. Not only were Lovecraft's comments a guide for me in reading older supernatural literature, but E.F. Bleiler's many books for Dover were nearly always standouts.  Lovecraft's comments in his essay aren't particularly perceptive (they read like over-written book-blurbs, and indeed they have appeared on many book covers), but overall the books he was interested in were usually worth reading. Some of the books he recommended I found early; some were difficult to find in those pre-internet days.

Another early reading guide was Diana Waggoner's The Hills of Faraway: A Guide to Fantasy, which I bought soon after publication in 1978. A few things I especially liked about it was that it gave intriguing comments about the books it covered, as well as references to critical articles about the authors, and it covered a lot of juvenile fantasy that other books didn't.  According to the dust-wrapper blurb, Waggoner was working on a historical novel and a series of essays on popular adult literature.  Alas, so far as I know, she published nothing else, though for years I hoped and expected that she would.

Another book from 1979 is Fantasy Literature: A Core Collection and Reference Guide, by Marshall B. Tymn, Kenneth J. Zahorski, and Robert H. Boyer.  It has different strengths from Waggoner's book, and they are in some ways complementary.  Boyer and Zahorski's names I already knew for their excellent series of anthologies, beginning with The Fantastic Imagination (1977) and The Fantastic Imagination II (1978), which introduced me to the works of Barry Pain, Kenneth Morris, Sylvia Townsend Warner, and others.

One more important reading guide for me also appeared in 1979, and that is Roger C. Schlobin's The Literature of Fantasy: A Comprehensive, Annotated Bibliography of Modern Fantasy Fiction. While its comprehensiveness was a matter of debate even in 1979, it was pretty inclusive, and had one feature that I especially liked:  for single author story collections, and multi-author anthologies, the title of each story was listed, and that was a real plus when searching for specific stories. This volume also has annotations and entries for bibliographies of some writers, which led me to find further things to read. Roger taught for many years at the North Central Campus of Purdue University, in northwest Indiana.  He lived in the town of Chesterton, where I  went to high school, but I never knew Roger lived there until after I went away to college. Beginning in the early 1980s, whenever I'd visit Chesterton, Roger and I would meet up, and we became friends.  He was one of the founders of the International Conference for the Fantastic in the Arts (ICFA), and for a while edited its Journal. He also edited the long-running series of Starmont Reader's Guide to individual fantasy and science fiction writers. Roger passed away at the end of April, at the age of 72, and his passing is one factor leading to this reminiscence. Here is a link to his obituary.


For some years I used Roger's bibliography as another reading list, finding one item to be particularly unknown:  Regor Clarkk's The Last of the Sorcerer-Dragons (1944).  There is a blurb about the plot:

In this poignant and bittersweet love story, a young professor, on leave in the Gobi desert, discovers the last of a race of sorcerous dragons. The dragons have guarded mankind since its beginnings. The beautiful and compassionate reptile tells the young man the story of man's beginning--a tale stripped of its Christian overtones that is influenced by the medieval love story, Tristan and Iseult, and which retells the Eden myth in a totally new and delightful way. Throughout, the tragedy of the slowly dying race of benevolent dragons is intertwined, and their powers are gradually explained and transferred to the young professor. As she ends her tale, the dragon dies and the man suddenly realizes that he is now the only one with the power to aid mankind. One of the least read and least noticed of all fantasy works.

Sound intriguing?  I thought so.  But when I learned to use such resources as the National Union Catalog, and the British Museum Catalogue of Printed Books, I could find no trace of it.  And looking again I realized that "Regor" is "Roger" spelt backwards, and Roger's middle name was "Clark."  Years later I queried him on it, and asked if he had other ghost entries in the book.  He replied: "It's the only ghost, and you're the first to find it. Of course, I did go on to write and publish the novel although it's between e-publishers at the moment."  At that time, e-books were new, and I didn't pursue getting a copy. Now, it appears that Roger finally self-published it as a book in 2012, priced only $6.63 and titled Fire and Fur: The Last Sorcerer Dragon.  It is now, alas, a cat fantasy, which may appeal to some, but not to me (I'm with Tolkien when he noted that cats are among the fauna of Mordor).

To further relate all this to Tolkien, Roger did publish an essay on Tolkien and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. It appeared in J.R.R. Tolkien and His Literary Resonances (2001), edited by George Clark and Daniel Timmons.  It also appears in Roger's Phantasmoriana: Collected Essays on the Nature of Fantasy and Horror Literature (2013), an oversized book priced at only $10.99.

Sometime in the early 1980s I finally got a copy of E.F. Bleiler's Checklist of Fantastic Literature, which  is one of the most consulted books I have.  Bleiler was a titanic figure in the field of fantasy and supernatural literature.  I remember ordering his Guide to Supernatural Fiction (1983) soon after publication. It's basically a compilation of decades of Bleiler's reading notes about supernatural literature. Years of use has shown me that while I don't always agree with him on specific books, he's certainly on the right track about many of them.

Another titan in the field passed away last week. This being Richard Dalby, one of the best anthologists of Victorian and Edwardian supernatural literature. His first anthology was The Sorceress in Stained Glass and Other Ghost Stories (1971), but it wasn't until the mid-to-late 1980s that he became prolific as an anthologist, often resurrecting excellent stories from obscure magazines. I never met Richard, but knew him only via occasional letters. Mark Valentine has written a memorial of Richard at Wormwoodiana, and I refer readers there to read his more comprehensive account.

Finally, a link to Susan Cooper's recent J.R.R. Tolkien Lecture on Fantasy Literature, held on 27 April 2017 at Pembroke College, Oxford.  Cooper touches on the fact that she heard both Tolkien and Lewis lecture at Oxford in the mid-1950s. She sums this up in an interview at her website:

J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis were both teaching when I was at Oxford and without a doubt influenced the lives of all of their students. As dons, they had set the rule that the Oxford English syllabus stop at 1832 and that it be heavy on Middle English and writers like Malory and Spenser, so, as a friend of mine says, they taught us to believe in dragons. They were both often to be seen drinking beer in a pub called the Eagle and Child, known as the Bird and Baby. I never personally met Tolkien or Lewis, and I’d never heard of Narnia, but we were all waiting eagerly for the third volume of The Lord of the Rings to come out, and I loved going to Lewis’s booming lectures on Renaissance literature. Tolkien lectured on Beowulf and was rather mumbly, except when declaiming the first lines of the poem in Anglo-Saxon, beginning with a great shout of “Hwaet!”

You can watch the lecture and see some photographs here

Thursday, January 19, 2012

2011 and Some Nobel Thoughts

Last year I had two ancient projects finally see the light of day, and one of my books came out as an ebook.  One of the ancient projects was Tolkien-related, the other not.  The Tolkien-related piece was a short filler article I submitted back in 2006 to CSL: The Bulletin of The New York C.S. Lewis Society.  The two-page piece is titled "The Inklings and Festschriften", and merely surveys the eleven books published to honor nine of the Inklings.  It appears in the May/June 2011 issue.  For information on the New York C. S. Lewis Society, see their web page.  The older book that re-appeared as an ebook is my anthology H.P. Lovecraft's Favorite Weird Tales. (Clicking on the cover at right will take you to kindle version at Amazon. I believe other e-formats were in the works, so check your favorite platform. The print edition is still also available here.) The project unrelated to Tolkien was an expanded edition of a 1933 collection, titled Devils' Drums, of central-African voodoo-styled horror stories by British writer Vivian Meik.  This book was completed back in 2003 for one publisher, who sat on it for eight years until I pulled it and placed it with a different publisher, Medusa Press, who produced a fine edition, limited to 300 copies.  For further details on the new edition, see Medusa Press's website.  For further information on Vivian Meik, see my entry on him at my Lesser-Known Writers blog by clicking here.

And speaking of my Lesser-Known Writers blog, I should point out that a couple of the entries already posted have Tolkienian associations.  There is an entry on Dora Owen, who edited The Book of Fairy Poetry (1920) in which Tolken's poem "Goblin Feet" was first reprinted, along with an original color illustration by Warwick Goble.  And there is an entry on G.S. Tancred, who edited the slim 1927 poetry volume Realities which contains the first publication of Tolkien's poem "The Nameless Land".  There are more entries on writers with Tolkien-associations in the queue to be published, and in the entries being worked on, so check back. I'm using the Labels function of the blog as a kind of index to it, so if you scan down to Tolkien, and click on it, you'll find  the Tolkien-related posts (currently two in number).  Here are the direct-to-entry links for the entries on Dora Owen and G.S. Tancred.

A number of interesting publications relating to Tolkien came out last year.  Most of these have received (or will receive) good coverage elsewhere, so I'd just like to call attention to a few off-trail items that might otherwise escape under the radar.  These are the first two issues of a new (paperback) serial, The Journal of Inklings Studies.  So far, the Tolkien-related content has been minimal (amounting to one book review by Jason Fisher), but the C.S. Lewis content has been very interesting, and I hope we will see the Tolkien coverage expand proportionally in future issues.  Details and contents listings at the publisher's website.

Michael Saler's As If, discussed in a previous post, is now out.  ***UPDATE, 1/20:  Tom Shippey has reviewed As If in The Wall Street Journal, see it here*** Similarly, Paul Edmund Thomas's new edition of E. R. Eddison's Styrbiorn the Strong, also previously discussed, made its appearance in December.  Oddly, the publisher photographed the main text from the 1926 Boni edition, and set the new material in a different font, making for an inelegant hybrid. But that's a minor complaint compared to the good news that this book is available again.

Finally, a few comments on the news reported by Alison Flood in The Guardian that Tolkien was nominated for the Nobel Prize in 1961.  I've seen a lot of snarky comments, the worst of which is probably The Guardian's own headline:  "J.R.R. Tolkien's Nobel Prize Chances Dashed by 'Poor Prose'" .  The Guardian has a history of knocking Tolkien at almost every opportunity, but the article below the headline says something quite different from what the headline implies, AND if you look into the source in the Swedish original, you find the situation is more complicated than the sneering newspaper headline implies.

First of all, we already knew that on 7 January 1961, C. S. Lewis wrote to Alastair Fowler:
In confidence.  If you were asked to nominate a candidate for the Nobel Prize (literature), who wd. be your choice? Mauriac has had it.  Frost? Eliot? Tolkien? E.M. Forster? Do you know the ideological slant (if any) of the Swedish Academy?  Keep all this under your hat.  
What we learned this month, after the fifty-year embargo on the 1961 Nobel discussions was lifted, is that C. S. Lewis, who as a professor of literature was apparently asked to nominate a candidate, did in fact nominate J.R.R. Tolkien.  It was the Nobel jury-member Anders Österling who nixed Tolkien from consideration, as he did several other names proffered.

The article in the Swedish newspaper which broke the news, the Sydsvenska Dagbladet, can be found here. I'm grateful to the Swedish translator John-Henri Holmberg for commenting on this and allowing me to quote him here.  John-Henri writes: 
What Anders Österling wrote about Tolkien was that "resultatet har dock icke i något avseende blivit diktning av högsta klass”, which is actually difficult to translate. Literally, I might try: "The result, however, has in no particular turned out to be 'diktning' of the highest order", but the problem is the word "diktning", which is both a noun and a verb. As a noun, it means "literary creation, poetry, poetics"; as a verb it means "the creation of poetry, the act of literary creation" etc. Make of it what you will; as a Swede, I'd say that the sense isn't really that Österling (himself a poet and literary critic, in his late 70s in 1961 though he remained active until around 1978) isn't primarily complaining about Tolkien's prose, but of the totality of his literary creation: what he says is that as a whole, The Lord of the Rings just isn't up to par.
Which is of course not what The Guardian says. But to put further context on this, it should be pointed out that the Swedish translation of The Lord of the Rings was then just appearing (the first volume in 1959, and the third later in 1961).  The translation was by Åke Ohlmarks, and Tolkien himself knew enough Swedish to complain of Ohlmark's translation ("guilty of some very strange mistakes") and of the "ridiculous fantasy" that Ohlmarks constructed as a biographical introduction (see Tolkien's letters to Allen & Unwin of 24 January and 23 February 1961, in The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien).

This leaves one to wonder if Österling dismissed Tolkien based on having seen only Ohlmark's Swedish translation (or only a volume or two of it, since the translation of the third volume had not apparently been published).  John-Henri Holmberg comments:
Incidentally, sure, by now the members of the Academy probably are reasonably fluent in English. Maybe not as much in 1961; remember that Sweden was primarily influenced from Germany during the later 1900s and until WWII. The first and obligatory foreign language taught in Swedish schools was German, until and including the Spring term of 1944; since the Fall term that year, it's been English. Which means that Swedes older than around 30 in 1961 didn't necessarily study much English in school
And about the dismissal of Tolkien, John-Henri wrote further:
The writer expressing this view, the then Constant Secretary of the Swedish Academy, Anders Österling, himself a poet (1884-1981), was already 77 in 1961 (possibly ironic, considering his views on the age of some Nobel award candidates; he continued publishing almost until his death), and had been greatly influenced by Henri Bergson as well as by the British romantic poets. In fact, Österling was quite impressive both as a poet and as a critic; his active work spanned some 75 years, as his first book of poems was published in 1904 and his last in 1978. As a critic, he was famous for his extremely high literary demands, but he remained open to new forms of expression in the arts; in his mid-eighties, in the early 1970s, he wrote appreciatively of psychedelic and hippie culture.
To me, the most newsworthy aspect of this revelation is not that Tolkien was nominated for the Nobel Prize in 1961, nor that he didn't win it (the Swedish Academy has a long history of eclectic choices), but that given this small bit of Tolkien-related news those at The Guardian jumped at the opportunity to twist it and sneer.  Shame on them.