Gardner Fox (1911–1986)

The Demon Queen Candara is one of many villains in this third book charting the adventures of Gardner F. Fox's derivatively-named Kothar the Cumberian. In his personal details and the larger setting that he inhabits, Kothar is less of a match for Robert E. Howard's Conan than he is for the later television cartoon Thundarr the Barbarian. A "god" in this far-future world may turn out to be a piece of ancient super-scientific gadgetry, while supernatural demons are veridical and hungry to show more consume human blood and souls.

There are lots of grudges and much double-crossing among the various wizards and rulers of the cities and strongholds in the Haunted Lands where Kothar explores in this segment. He still carries the enchanted sword Frostfire, which makes him nearly invincible and subjects him to a curse that prevents him from acquiring worldly wealth.

I had previously read only the second book of the series, Kothar of the Magic Sword, containing two sequential novellas. Those were both superior to the longer (though still short) novel in this volume, which seemed more preoccupied with its plot and somewhat less of a romp than the stories before it. The inimical sorceress Red Lori, who played such a large role in the two earlier books, is remarked as vanquished at the outset of Kothar and the Demon Queen, and she stays mute and absent throughout it, rather than competing for attention with Candara. show less

Gardner Fox is well known to comic book aficionados as the creator of many of the most 'significant' DC Comics characters. He introduced the idea of the multiverse to the comic book world but was also a science fiction, sword and planet and sword and sorcery writer.

'Woman of Kali' is a genuine surprise and much more enjoyable than I expected when I picked it up from a charity shop as a 1960 British reprint of a 1954 American bit of pulp fiction with a lurid and obscure illustration by Herman show more Bischoff. It is, in fact, still in print.

It is essentially a romantic orientalist fantasy set in the India of Clive with a hero straight out of then-contemporary Hollywood epics and a plot that stands up in its adventurous and fast-moving simplicity. It is certainly not politically correct but then that is partly why it is enjoyable.

On the other hand, while the characters are simple cases of good, cunning and evil, Fox gives us an Indian princess with as much fighting guts as our young British officer and inter-racial sexual shenanigans and he ensures that the opponents of British rule are not in the least patronised.

This is heroic imperialism as if Kipling had gone downmarket and wanted to produce a pulp potboiler for the money. Indeed, some British officers prove as treacherous and greedy as any 'native' and others stupid or weak. The book is about the struggle for mastery between equals.

I found it hard to believe that the book was not written by a Briton since Fox's 'simpatico' approach to empire-building is not exactly what Americans tend to think of as appropriate. No questions are asked of the process ... it is just a tale of business between competing 'companies'.

He has also done his research. He liberally throws around Indian-derived words and is good on local colour so that, whether it is all true or not, we believe that we are watching a tale unfold in a real eighteenth century India with its landscapes, customs, modes of warfare and intrigues.

It is also charmingly if mildly erotic, allowing the reader to imagine rather than be told explicitly what Captain Pritchard and the Princess Muhreen get up to (apparently quite frequently) and what Captain Pritchard might have been getting up to in the Temple of Kali with the dangerous Sharita.

Filled with incident and fast-paced, it even treats the French Officer D'Arcourt with respect although no tears can be shed for the treacherous British Officer who will remain unnamed here so as not to provide a spoiler.

Well written and exciting, if nonsense historically, 'Woman of Kali' represents the best of American pulp writing - unpretentious, determined to entertain, offering fantasy and release from the quotidian, well plotted and solidly researched where it needs to be. Basically, it is fun. show less

The two novellas under this cover are the second of five sword-and-sorcery books about the barbarian Kothar, who is largely a clone of Robert E. Howard's Conan (though blond). But the setting of decadent two-mooned Yarth and the sardonic narrative style are more like Jack Vance's Dying Earth. The first story "The Helix from Beyond" involved some interdimensional travel that I found reminiscent of C. L. Moore's frequent pocket universes. There is hardly anything original in these tales, but show more they are still solidly constructed out of their pilfered components.

There is a persistent threat to Kothar in these stories -- evidently continued from the first book and possibly extending into the third -- from the sorceress Red Lori. She becomes more complicated in the second and longer novella "A Plague of Demons." Although I thought the first tale was slightly superior as a freestanding adventure, I enjoyed the second more, and I would gladly read the other Kothar books, expecting them to be lightweight fun. show less

review of
Gardner F. Fox's / John Brunner's The Arsenal of Miracles / Endless Shadow
by tENTATIVELY, a cONVENIENCE - October 29, 2018

Yet-another Ace Double. 2 short novels in one double-fronted bk. As is common, the author I'm interested in, John Brunner, is coupled w/ an author I wasn't previously familiar w/, Gardner F. Fox. The opening page blurb of his The Arsenal of Miracles states:

"When Earth's stellar empire was attacked by the Lyanir, a powerful race from the uncharted stars, it show more was Bran Magannon, High Admiral of Space, who met their battle-challenge. He save the Empire, but he also fell in love with beuatifl young Lyanirn queen Peganna, and to the people of Empire his name became that of traitor. Now he was a lone, brooding outcast among Earth's outpost worlds, called Bran the Wanderer.

"Then Peganna of the Silver Hair returned and told him of a fabled cache of deadly weapons left eons ago by the long-dead race of Crenn Lir. She wanted those weapons for her people, to use against Empire if need be.

"Bran the Wanderer laughed, and showed her how to find them." - p 1

This was the type of SF that convinced me when I was a teenager that SF wasn't worth reading in contrast to the literature I was reading instead: something like The Arsenal of Miracles vs Crime and Punishment? No competition. It wasn't until about 15 years later when I started discovering SF writers such as Philip K. Dick & J. G. Ballard that I decided that there was plenty of SF worth reading. Now I've gotten to the point where I love SF so much that I'll even read things like The Arsenal of Miracles & Robert Lory's The Eyes of Bolsk even though I think they're both only barely worth the bother — fortunately they're quick reads. SO, yeah, don't expect a very enthusiastic review of this half of the Ace Double.

Bran the Wanderer is a masterful gamer:

"Bran shook the dice so they made a hollow sound in his cupped palm. "I've won enough for one night, I suppose. Enough to take me off Makkador to some other planet where men will risk a sped or two for an evening's pleasure. Ah, well. It isn't exactly a wasted night, I suppose, with a thousand sped to show for my time but I'd hoped for another roll or—"

""I will play against Bran and his dice of Nagalang."" - p 11

Treachery is afoot:

"For hours on end they had sipped tart slisthl and conjectured on what might happen of both Peganna and Bran Magannon fell from power. There seemed no hope of this, however, until the treaty terms were agreed upon; then Gron Dhu suggested that, if those treaty terms might be broken and the blame for such breaking laid upon Peganna abd Commander Magannon . . .

"It was worth a try, they had decided." - pp 23-24

Nuaghty, naughty. Will our heros prevail? Not w/o much travail 1st. Until..

"To the Empire worlds, the well of Molween was a myth out of spacelore. It ranked with all the old Earth fables, with the waters of immortality, the lamp that granted wishes, the flying horse, the enchanted sword. Was there more than folklore to this well of Molween, then? As there might be more to the old beliefs that once men had been immortal, that there were weapons that could never be rendered ineffective? There was a school of thought that said myth was no more than an ancestral memory of past reality." - p 35

Of course there are "waters of immortality", they're just heavily polluted now. & many homes have something that grants wishes, it's called "Siri". People say things like "Siri, give me light" & there's light in the room — that's close enough to a "lamp that grants wishes" isn't it?

It's often interesting to me to read SF about the future & to see what remains in the author's imagination as still technologically advanced or otherwise 'normal'. Some stories have astronauts smoking on their space ships, others have tape as the hi-tec recording medium of the future.

"No living man could have picked them out on the gray rocks, but the reconnaissance camera would be clicking from the underbelly of the Zad and it's high-speed films would catch them as they ran, mirroring forever the fact that they had flung themselves upon the hill stones.

"When they processed the films, they would know where they had come, though they would not know why." - p 39

Yep, & like the Russian revolutionary documentary makers, they probably had film developing equipment in their train in the sky. Or maybe they were shooting polaroid super-8.

Much of the SF writing, like this, that I'm less-than-enthusiastic-about is written somewhat formulaicly — sentences & ideas are so common they're almost interchangeable between bks:

""It's as though the people living here just packed up and went away," Peganna murmured as they moved across the smooth streets.

""Or—died off," he growled.

""As suddenly as all that? Leaving everything almost as it had been while they were alive?"

""Something like that, yes."

"She eyed him wonderingly. "What could possibly cause such a thing? Neither Empire nor the Lyanir know a power as great as that."

""I know, I know. It's what worries me,"" - p 51

Maybe the one-hr film processing plants that everyone was working for went out-of-business. Lardy knows that other treachery just as bad was at hand:

"Yet Gron Dhu did not need his sister.

"His lie that Bran the Wanderer—who had driven them out of habitable space to this dead planet!—had murdered Peganna, would be believed. The people of Miranor would have no reason to doubt it." - p 70

I just want you to know, Bran, that I never doubted you for a minute, I've had people lie about me too so I know what it feels like. Stay strong.

Popular bks often have romance. This probably wasn't a popular bk but the author tried:

"Peganna was sitting at a window, staring out at the moon-drenched land. Her shoulders were rounded, her hair loose and unkempt, as though she did not care how she might look. Hands on fist, Bran surveyed her.

""A fine figure of a girl in love, I must say!"

"Her head swivelled and her eyes grew enormous. Her lips opened, quivered uncontrollably. She started to tremble.

"Bran held out his arms.

"She flew to him, was crushed and held tight for long minutes, When he let her go she was laughing through her tears. "Was there ever a man like you? How in the name of Lur did you do it?"" - p 78

"She flew to him, was crushed": is that like a bird breaking its neck when it flies into a picture window?

The more cliché the novel the greater likelihood of a sword appearing:

"The people recognized the sword Bran carried in his hand to the little clearing that had been made for the duel. A sound like the whisper of the wind in tall trees moved here and there, for the people recognized his fitness to carry the blade that was called Lyrothonn, as champion of the queen." - p 110

You've gotta watch out when you call for Lyrothonn b/c if it comes at yr call it might just skewer you in its eagerness to be quick about it. Anyway, Bran gets killed in the duel & then it's all over for goodness. JUST KIDDING.

"Bran lifted a rod that held a series of thin diamond panes inset with microelectric plates and wires. He touched the diamond panes, set them to spinning.

"A blackness grew about the Wanderer, spreading outward.

"He could see inside that darkness as though he peered into violet haze, but they could not see him. Peganna looked startled, frightened, as the black blotch grew. Then Bran stilled the spinning panes adn everything was as it had been." - p 118

It's just like drugs — you never know what they're going to be cut w/. You start out just wanting to party w/ the purple haze & the next thing you know you're addicted to some sort of horrible black blotch.

""Don't touch it," he breathed. "It might be able to turn us all into no more than drifting dust motes, and the whole planet as well for all I know."" - p 119

At least in the future, things have slowed down quite a bit. It's almost like going on a hay ride or a bicycle built for 2 — but less bumpy:

"The air-car slid from the astroport twenty miles above a crowded highway, where magnetic grids kept the automatically controlled ground-cars at a steady sixty miles an hour." - p 141

I asked my gleaming lap-sword: "how fast does a plane have to fly to stay aloft?" & on https://www.quora.com/Whats-the-minimum-speed-for-an-airplane-to-stay-airborne-I... got this answer from a cerain Curt Weil:

"Each airplane is different as to its' stall speed - the speed at which there no longer is sufficient air flowing over the wings to maintain flight. There are many factors affecting stall speed for a given aircraft: carried weight, internal balance of the load, etc. Through clever engineering, some planes have very low stall speeds, close to 40 MPH. If you are in one of these, flying into a 35 MPH head-wind, your ground-speed will only be 5 MPH.

"Theoretically, you could attach enough power to a brick and it would fly, with a stall speed of 0 MPH

"Very large jets have stall speeds in the 125-165 MPH range, typical small planes in the 45 - 65 MPH range."

What those of us are smart enough to read between the lines learn from this is that fying carpets ARE possible. Not only that but now that I'm in the 21st century I might live more than another 5 years:

"Our life expectancy now is a hundred years. In the Twentieth Century, it was only in the sixties."" - p 153

The author of this bk, Gardner F. Fox lived in the 20th century but managed to live to be 75. It pays to be a Sci-Fi writer. Even though I own a cellphone (the surest sign of belonging to the 21st century) I'm probably too much of a 20th century guy to make it to 100.

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If I were more technically clever, this part of the review wd be upside-down. Hold yr computer or other electronic-screen device upside-down & then get upside-down yrself for a bad simulation of the aimed-for reading experience.

John Brunner's Endless Shadow! His side of the cover has a GIANT cobra being appealed to by a puny human wearing a white robe with a pink triangle on the back. This cover is just crying out for a camp reworking. It's a Brunner story, of course I liked it — but, fortunately for me, given that I have a large backlog of unreviewed bks, I only made 6 notes to myself. Before the story even starts he quotes James Joyce:

"His shadow lay over the rocks as he bent, ending. Why not endless till the farthest star? Darkly they are there behind this light, darkness shining in the brightness, delta of Cassiopeia, worlds. Me sits there with his augur's rod of ash, in borrowed sandals, by day beside a livid sea, unbeheld, in violet night walking beneath a reign of uncouth stars. I throw this ended shadow from me, manshape ineluctable, call it back. Endless, would it be mine, form of my form? Who watched me here? Who ever anywhere will read these written words?

"—James Joyce: Ulysses" - Endless Shadow, p 2

Now, curiously, earlier today I finished & uploaded my review of Brunner's The Stone that Never Came Down. Are you ready for this?! In that review thre was some stuff about Joyce's Finnegans Wake ( https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2576901499 ) Small world. I wdn't be surprised if Joyce imself didn't just materialize right next to me & ask for a light for his pipe. &, let's face it, any writer who loves Joyce is probably going to mind their writing Ps & Qs:

"There are machines to move, that do move, hald a million people a day from world to world as expeditiously as postal packages and with them million tons of freight like entries in a ledger, balancing, and I am Jorgen Thorkild walking. On two feet. Down a corridor. I could have sent for any of them. Waited for them. Instead, I walk down a corridor between two faceless lines of doors, hearing at the edge of hearing the noise within. Layered, the building, the part above ground, to look out from the windows over the city and work distracted by the outer sunlight. This layer: RIGER'S WORLD. Earthside representatives. This door named after Koriot Angoss." - p 5

The inhabitants of one planet have a philosophy that worships pain:

"Pain is the only reality, they said. Pleasure can be negated; even boredom, the neutral, featureless state, makes pleasure impossible. But the happiest man can be hurled to the depths of misery by the stab of a rotting tooth, or the lash of a whip on his back. Unite reality to consciousness, they said, by pain." - p 17

Nope, I'm a hedonist. Some people just don't know how to have a good time.

"Of course, it would have to be women they met first on this dangerous expedition. Imaginae a woman hearing them with sympathy—even the different kind of woman rumor reported as being aboard the starship." - p 20

Ok, so I'm leaving some essential things out. This is a review (is it?) not a plot summary.

"["]Ever hear of accidia?"

""Is that the name of a disease?"

""A kind of disease. It used to be called 'the black night of the soul'. It isn't depression. It goes beyond melancholia and misery to a point at which you have to ask the unanswerable question: what's the point of it all["]" - p 72

I've never understood why people value that question: Why does anything have to have a 'point'?

"Acedia (/əˈsiːdiə/; also accidie or accedie /ˈæksɪdi/, from Latin acedĭa, and this from Greek ἀκηδία, "negligence", ἀ- "lack of" -κηδία "care") is a state of listlessness or torpor, of not caring or not being concerned with one's position or condition in the world. It can lead to a state of being unable to perform one's duties in life. Its spiritual overtones make it related to but arguably distinct from depression. Acedia was originally noted as a problem among monks and other ascetics who maintained a solitary life." - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acedia

I'm alone most fo the time but not all of the time. Maybe that's why I'm just depressed. This is a philosophical novel:

"Hans thought sometimes of the ancient philosophical dictum that "solipsism is the only ultimately defensible philosophical standpoint," and added a rider to it: the objective futility of existence could be defended pretty well, too." - p 87

What if we combine Acedia w/ Solipsism & Zeno's Paradox to pose a philosophical question like this?: If everything is an outgrowth of ourself as the only locatable center of the universe (Solipsism) will we not care (Acedia) that we'll never be able to reach our image in the mirror because we'll always be approaching by halving distances (Zeno)? DO NOT CONTEMPLATE THIS QUESTION UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF LSD OR SIMILAR SUBSTANCES. show less