On Thud and Blunder

[Prince of Happiness]

Also, I want to speak up a but in defense of Gardner Fox. His "Kothar" books have taken some heat in various recent threads for being a blatant Conan-pastiche, which is undoubtedly true, but overlooks a few other key facts: 1) Conan pastiches and ripoffs were ridiculosuly common in those days (60s-70s) to the point that they were seen less as rip-offs and more as just 'what the genre is' -- in the same way that blatant Tolkein ripoffs proliferated in the 80s with hardly a raised eyebrow; 2) the Kothar books are, on their own terms, actually quite good -- Fox was an experienced pulp author (of both novels and comics) who knew how to craft a good plot and keep the action moving, arguably even better than Howard himself (who, let's face it, recycled the same few plots over and over with only slight variations); 3) the books are self-conscious and don't take themselves too seriously, without ever quite crossing over into outright camp/parody -- you don't need to feel guilty or "turn off your brain" to enjoy these books, because Fox is on your side and knows that the whole thing is at least half ridiculous (the same attitude and approach, incidentally, that IMO also best serves D&D); and 4) there are really much worse Conan ripoffs/pastiches than these -- including a fair number of stories by de Camp and/or Carter that are (or at least were, until the recent reprints) part of the Conan "canon;" and that's not even plumbing the depths of Thongor of Lemuria (Carter), Brak the Barbarian (John Jakes), the Gor novels (John Norman), and tons of other presumably even worse stuff that's been justly forgotten.

So, while no one will ever mistake the Kothar novels for literature, they are at very least a lot of fun, and you won't feel dirty or foolish after reading them. I'd heartily recommend them right alongside any of the other titles on Gygax's list, and above at least a few of them...

My critque on Gardner Fox is that his stories never quite "gel" for me. The setting just doesn't provide enough strength of place to really anchor it all for me. From that, it just feels like some dude killing other dudes in places with funny names and bedding women from other places with funny names. Sure, the action's moving, but it feels like watching a show with actors running on obviously cardboard sets.

Edited to add: Oh sweet lord, Brak the Barbarian. The less said the better. :| It didn't help that I kept thinking of "The Brak Show."

 

[Slife]

I'm suprised the example in the article didn't look like this:

The weather beaten trail wound ahead into the dust racked
climes of the baren land which dominates large portions of the
Norgolian empire. Age worn hoof prints smothered by the sifting
sands of time shone dully against the dust splattered crust of
earth. The tireless sun cast its parching rays of incandescense
from overhead, half way through its daily revolution. Small
rodents scampered about, occupying themselves in the daily
accomplishments of their dismal lives. Dust sprayed over three
heaving mounts in blinding clouds, while they bore the burdonsome
cargoes of their struggling overseers.
"Prepare to embrace your creators in the stygian haunts of
hell, barbarian", gasped the first soldier.
"Only after you have kissed the fleeting stead of death,
wretch!" returned Grignr.
A sweeping blade of flashing steel riveted from the massive
barbarians hide enameled shield as his rippling right arm thrust
forth, sending a steel shod blade to the hilt into the soldiers
vital organs. The disemboweled mercenary crumpled from his
saddle and sank to the clouded sward, sprinkling the parched dust
with crimson droplets of escaping life fluid.

 

[Prince of Happiness]

I'm suprised the example in the article didn't look like this:

Oh no. Not that hideous abominable creation that has become unslumbered from the slumberful depths of unfathomable time beyond the thing that nestles on the threshold of mankind's feeble grasping knowledge of the unknowable mind-blasting terrible eldritch secrets of the elder universe of horror from which no man can look at knowingly, unknowingly, gazingly, glancingly or at all and return with one minute iota atom of his sanity intact!

 

[WhatGravitas]

I'm suprised the example in the article didn't look like this:

Argh! What's that? Looks like the unholy union of cheesy fantasy with Ulysses!

 

[Slife]

Argh! What's that? Looks like the unholy union of cheesy fantasy with Ulysses!

Behold, in all its glory, the great and terrible, the lusty and the fetid, the one, the only,

THE EYE OF ARGON!


At some science fictions cons, there's a challenge based around it - whoever can read it outloud for the longest amount of time without cracking up wins a prize. The grandmaster challenge? Read the whole text after inhaling helium.

 

[replicant2]

Behold, in all its glory, the great and terrible, the lusty and the fetid, the one, the only,

THE EYE OF ARGON!


At some science fictions cons, there's a challenge based around it - whoever can read it outloud for the longest amount of time without cracking up wins a prize. The grandmaster challenge? Read the whole text after inhaling helium.

I love the Eye of Argon. Reading it aloud without comment is so funny that there's simply no need for MST3K treatment.

On the other hand, my guess is that the "author," Jim Theis, is probably a fictional construction, and that the story was penned by a fairly bright person who set out to deliberately break all rules of grammar and invoke every bad swords and sorcery cliche known to man. It's too deliciously awful to be a fluke.

 

[replicant2]

From The Eye of Argon

"What are you called by female?"

"Carthena, daughter of Minkardos, Duke of Barwego, whose lands border along the northwestern fringes of Gorzom. I was paid as homage to Agaphim upon his thirty-eighth year," husked the femme!

"And I am called a barbarian!" Grunted Grignr in a disgusted tone!

"Aye! The ways of our civilization are in many ways warped and distorted, but what is your calling," she queried, bustily?

"Grignr of Ecordia."

"Ah, I have heard vaguely of Ecordia. It is the hill country to the far east of the Noregolean Empire. I have also heard Agaphim curse your land more than once when his troops were routed in the unaccustomed mountains and gorges." Sayeth she.

Now that's dialogue.

 

[Slife]

I love the Eye of Argon. Reading it aloud without comment is so funny that there's simply no need for MST3K treatment.

On the other hand, my guess is that the "author," Jim Theis, is probably a fictional construction, and that the story was penned by a fairly bright person who set out to deliberately break all rules of grammar and invoke every bad swords and sorcery cliche known to man. It's too deliciously awful to be a fluke.

From what I've heard, he was a real 16 year old author who went on to a career in journalism, never writing fiction again. IIRC, he died sometime this decade.

There are other real writers who have the same degree of baness.
For example, Amanda Ros

Visiting Westminister Abby​

Holy Moses! Have a look!
Flesh decayed in every nook!
Some rare bits of brain lie here,
Mortal loads of beef and beer,
Some of whom are turned to dust,
Every one bids lost to lust;
Royal flesh so tinged with 'blue'
Undergoes the same as you.​

Or try William Mc Gonagall

The Tay Bridge Disaster
Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay!
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been taken away
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.

'Twas about seven o'clock at night,
And the wind it blew with all its might,
And the rain came pouring down,
And the dark clouds seem'd to frown,
And the Demon of the air seem'd to say-
"I'll blow down the Bridge of Tay."

-SNIP-

It must have been an awful sight,
To witness in the dusky moonlight,
While the Storm Fiend did laugh, and angry did bray,
Along the Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay,
Oh! ill-fated Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay,
I must now conclude my lay
By telling the world fearlessly without the least dismay,
That your central girders would not have given way,
At least many sensible men do say,
Had they been supported on each side with buttresses,
At least many sensible men confesses,
For the stronger we our houses do build,
The less chance we have of being killed.​

 

[mmadsen]

What do people think of Poul Anderson's basic point?

Still, a bit more realism in this respect too would lend convincingness.

We can then swing back to cheerful matters, such as harvest festivals, drunken evenings in taverns, and fertility rites where sympathetic magic gets totally sympathetic. We can let our hero have all kinds of adventures, buckle all kinds of swashes. I merely submit that he ought to do so in a world which, however thaumaturgical, makes sense. The more it does, the more the reader will enjoy — and the more he will come back for more.​

 

[Melan]

Suspension of disbelief? I prefer Sense of wonder!