Tales and Alien Languages
Reviewing three collections of "Tales" this time. The theme of racism has to come up, though it was not intended originally.
Also, let's start a conversation about possible alien languages.
Tales Before Tolkien: The Roots of Modern Fantasy
There are quite a variety of tales in this book, ranging from Tolkienesque stories of elves and dragons to horror “The Baumoff Explosive”, comedy “The Dragon Tamers”, satire “Chu-Bu and Sheemish”, paradoxically violent children’s folktales in the Brothers Grimm mode “Puss-Cat Mew “, mythology “The Golden Key”, imaginary histories “The Story or Alwina”, strange little existential gems “The Thin Queen of Elfhame”, as well as a rather unsuccessful attempt to shed fantasy of its European roots “A Zulu Idyll” (which is nonetheless told from the view of a European). Many of them combine two or more of these ideas. Some of them ring with the type of epic grandeur and deliberately archaic language that characterize Tolkien’s “High Style”. Every reader will probably like one or two of these stories and despise one or two others. I found the first several to be disappointing but began to like the ones near the end (I don’t know if this has anything to do with the chronological order in which the tales are presented). Anyway, I would recommend this book to anyone interested in fantasy writing, and specifically anyone interested in the roots of Tolkien’s ideas, though the editor leaves out that other epic about a magic (and cursed) ring, that one by Richard Wagner…
The Piazza Tales, by Herman Melville
First of all, there’s the entrenched racism in Melville’s society. It is repugnant enough to make certain passages in this collection of short stories unreadable, though perhaps the book as a whole can be appreciated as a (disconcerting) period piece. That said, there are moments of literary genius here, befitting the author of Moby Dick. “The Piazza” is a Tolkienesque excursion into fairyland, but it asks where the true fairyland actually is. “Bartleby the Scrivener” is a surprisingly modern tale of alienation and clinical depression. “The Lightning Rod Man” is a comical caricature of a slick, slimy, smooth-tongued salesman. “The Encantadas” has moments of nature-writing reminiscent of contemporary non-fiction, though it soon drowns in silly, swashbuckling tales of pirates and renegades. “The Bell-Tower” is a Frankenstein story, an early take on sci-fi/horror (though the racist commentary at the beginning causes it to form meanings that are uncomfortable for the modern reader, to put it mildly). Conclusion: the best reason to read this book, apart from the writing (which is often quite mellifluous) is to see how ignorant and mean-spirited our ancestors were. Let us never return to that world.
Tales, by H. P. Lovecraft
Very disappointing. As a sci-fi reader and sometimes board-game hobbyist, I’d wanted to check out the origins of the now ubiquitous Cthulhu (et al.) that is running amok in the gamers’ world. Turns out it’s probably just because the copyright has expired and Cthulhu is an easy villain on which to base a game; otherwise these stories are not all that interesting. What’s more, Lovecraft’s persistent racism is offensive and much more horrifying than the stories themselves are supposed to be. That said, two of the longer stories work fairly well: “The Mountains of Madness“, in which Antarctic explorers uncover a lost alien civilization; and “Shadow over Innsmouth” (something of a fishy-smelling sequel to the same), is a wonderful piece of scary atmospheric writing. (One of the monsters that appears in both is similar to the Big Baddie in my own fantasy series, “Tond”, though I hadn’t read Lovecraft when I made it up.) Otherwise, ho-hum. Play the Cthulhu games if you want, but don’t bother reading the tales unless you’re really a fan.
Alien Languages
“Cthulhu” is of course supposed to be unpronounceable, something from an alien language for strange beings without human mouthparts. As such it fails: it’s not too difficult to say “k’THOO-loo” or even “k’THOOL-hoo” (“k’TH’YOOL-hue” is a little harder). But what we have here is an example of the bane of conlangers. What to do with alien languages?
One can assume that the aliens are humanoids, and that their languages resemble those of humans. Case in point, Klingon. That makes it easier for the fans and the actors.
One can invent a universal translator so that the alien languages, no matter how they are produced, can be easily understood. Case in point, the Babel Fish, or the unseen translator that works beneath all interactions in the Star Wars movies.
Or one can assume that they communicate by some other means, and do not resemble humanoids. Case in point, the cyborg N)-//*^ from the planet Y*yi^.c, who communicate with radio waves. They’re at the end of my “Tond” series (and I’m writing the adventures of one, known as `”++\(, in the second series.) Obviously these words can’t be pronounced, though the symbols aren't entirely random. I assume that each symbol stands for some kind of frequency or intensity change in a signal, or some kind of static burst, or a silence. In other words, each symbol is a “phoneme”. (Perhaps the “N”, the “Y”, and the “yi”, if picked up by a receiver, register as sounds that are vaguely like their human counterparts, though I’m not sure of this.) These “phonemes”, whatever they are, could be strung together into “words”, and then into “sentences”, and so on. But that is still like a human language. My idea is that the N)-//*^ could broadcast a matrix of related concepts to each other, which the receiver then joins up into a more complex meaning.
Ideas, comments, concepts, and so on, about this? (Note that the N)-//*^, known to humans as “mordhs”, are copyrighted.)
Also, let's start a conversation about possible alien languages.
Tales Before Tolkien: The Roots of Modern Fantasy
There are quite a variety of tales in this book, ranging from Tolkienesque stories of elves and dragons to horror “The Baumoff Explosive”, comedy “The Dragon Tamers”, satire “Chu-Bu and Sheemish”, paradoxically violent children’s folktales in the Brothers Grimm mode “Puss-Cat Mew “, mythology “The Golden Key”, imaginary histories “The Story or Alwina”, strange little existential gems “The Thin Queen of Elfhame”, as well as a rather unsuccessful attempt to shed fantasy of its European roots “A Zulu Idyll” (which is nonetheless told from the view of a European). Many of them combine two or more of these ideas. Some of them ring with the type of epic grandeur and deliberately archaic language that characterize Tolkien’s “High Style”. Every reader will probably like one or two of these stories and despise one or two others. I found the first several to be disappointing but began to like the ones near the end (I don’t know if this has anything to do with the chronological order in which the tales are presented). Anyway, I would recommend this book to anyone interested in fantasy writing, and specifically anyone interested in the roots of Tolkien’s ideas, though the editor leaves out that other epic about a magic (and cursed) ring, that one by Richard Wagner…
The Piazza Tales, by Herman Melville
First of all, there’s the entrenched racism in Melville’s society. It is repugnant enough to make certain passages in this collection of short stories unreadable, though perhaps the book as a whole can be appreciated as a (disconcerting) period piece. That said, there are moments of literary genius here, befitting the author of Moby Dick. “The Piazza” is a Tolkienesque excursion into fairyland, but it asks where the true fairyland actually is. “Bartleby the Scrivener” is a surprisingly modern tale of alienation and clinical depression. “The Lightning Rod Man” is a comical caricature of a slick, slimy, smooth-tongued salesman. “The Encantadas” has moments of nature-writing reminiscent of contemporary non-fiction, though it soon drowns in silly, swashbuckling tales of pirates and renegades. “The Bell-Tower” is a Frankenstein story, an early take on sci-fi/horror (though the racist commentary at the beginning causes it to form meanings that are uncomfortable for the modern reader, to put it mildly). Conclusion: the best reason to read this book, apart from the writing (which is often quite mellifluous) is to see how ignorant and mean-spirited our ancestors were. Let us never return to that world.
Tales, by H. P. Lovecraft
Very disappointing. As a sci-fi reader and sometimes board-game hobbyist, I’d wanted to check out the origins of the now ubiquitous Cthulhu (et al.) that is running amok in the gamers’ world. Turns out it’s probably just because the copyright has expired and Cthulhu is an easy villain on which to base a game; otherwise these stories are not all that interesting. What’s more, Lovecraft’s persistent racism is offensive and much more horrifying than the stories themselves are supposed to be. That said, two of the longer stories work fairly well: “The Mountains of Madness“, in which Antarctic explorers uncover a lost alien civilization; and “Shadow over Innsmouth” (something of a fishy-smelling sequel to the same), is a wonderful piece of scary atmospheric writing. (One of the monsters that appears in both is similar to the Big Baddie in my own fantasy series, “Tond”, though I hadn’t read Lovecraft when I made it up.) Otherwise, ho-hum. Play the Cthulhu games if you want, but don’t bother reading the tales unless you’re really a fan.
Alien Languages
“Cthulhu” is of course supposed to be unpronounceable, something from an alien language for strange beings without human mouthparts. As such it fails: it’s not too difficult to say “k’THOO-loo” or even “k’THOOL-hoo” (“k’TH’YOOL-hue” is a little harder). But what we have here is an example of the bane of conlangers. What to do with alien languages?
One can assume that the aliens are humanoids, and that their languages resemble those of humans. Case in point, Klingon. That makes it easier for the fans and the actors.
One can invent a universal translator so that the alien languages, no matter how they are produced, can be easily understood. Case in point, the Babel Fish, or the unseen translator that works beneath all interactions in the Star Wars movies.
Or one can assume that they communicate by some other means, and do not resemble humanoids. Case in point, the cyborg N)-//*^ from the planet Y*yi^.c, who communicate with radio waves. They’re at the end of my “Tond” series (and I’m writing the adventures of one, known as `”++\(, in the second series.) Obviously these words can’t be pronounced, though the symbols aren't entirely random. I assume that each symbol stands for some kind of frequency or intensity change in a signal, or some kind of static burst, or a silence. In other words, each symbol is a “phoneme”. (Perhaps the “N”, the “Y”, and the “yi”, if picked up by a receiver, register as sounds that are vaguely like their human counterparts, though I’m not sure of this.) These “phonemes”, whatever they are, could be strung together into “words”, and then into “sentences”, and so on. But that is still like a human language. My idea is that the N)-//*^ could broadcast a matrix of related concepts to each other, which the receiver then joins up into a more complex meaning.
Ideas, comments, concepts, and so on, about this? (Note that the N)-//*^, known to humans as “mordhs”, are copyrighted.)
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