The fourth volume of Yoko Tsuno, Aventures Electroniques was never published in English, and is a different beast: a collection of six previous short stories, Hold-up in hi-fi, L’ange de Noël (“The Christmas Angel”), La belle et la bête (“The Beauty and the Beast”), Cap 351, Du miel pour Yoko (“Honey for Yoko”) and L’araignée qui volait (“The Thief Spider”). The style varies from full blown, cartoony Marcinelle Style, to a more stylized, more “adult” Ligne Claire. Two of the stories feature texts by M. Tillieux.
The common element in the stories is the use and abuse of technology: a gang of criminals use a cinema-style hi-fi systen to rob a bank; a mysterious beast-man is revealed to be a man with a exoskeleton; a rocket is hijacked to attack some economic talks between East and West Germany; bees carrying microfilms are used in an espionage plot; a robot-spider is used to nefarious purposes. Only a short Christmas story is free of hi-tech criminals and spies.
All in all a fine volume, and one that does make the most of the engineering job of Yoko – even if initially limited to stereo repairs – and of Roger Leloup high skills as at drawing technology. As usual the stories are a trifle too verbose, but I’m reading then to learn French, so it might be a bonus of sorts.
Two weeks ago, I went and had my glasses redone – with old age, my eyesight is shifting, and I needed a new pair (or a well-trained dog); the old glasses were also damaged, the lenses scratched and whatnot. Now, for some demented reason, glasses in Italy are considered cosmetics for tax purposes – which means they are usually pretty expensive, and you can get only the 29% of what you paid covered by the national health service. So I budgeted about 200 euro for my new glasses. And as much again for my brother – because he was getting his glasses redone too. Harsh, but eyesight – and health in general – is not something on which you want to be a cheapskate. But, cheapskates we were after all, and thanks to a friend’s suggestion, we ended up in a friendly shop, ran by a franchise, where my brother got his glasses for 60 euro, and I landed mine for free as part of a special 1+1 offer. The world is not as bleak (or as expensive) as we sometimes believe. Cause for celebration. And having tackled one problem, I decided to invest part of the money saved to solve another problem – to wit, the fact that I am besieged by chairs loaded in books. We learned a friend of ours was doing a quick run to the nearest IKEA, and we asked him to get us one of those heavy-duty, one-size-fits-all book-cases called Billy. Admittedly, the most basic of all basic pieces of furniture, but what the heck, it does its job.
So we spent the hottest hours of the hottest day in the hottest year (so far) to assemble the thing, we paid the traditional thimble of blood the gods of DIY exact in these circumstances, and then I dug into the piles of books scattered around my work station, and started dividing the books into different groups – the strays that need to go back on their original shelf, the new books that need to be parked in the new book-case, and the miscellanea.
Finally, after seven years paying my bills by writing, I will have a full bookshelf to hold all the books and magazines carrying my stories or articles, plus my novels. And I must admit it’s a nice view – a pity almost all of my Italian books are missing, as most of my publishers did not think it proper to mail me a complimentary copy of the anthologies I contributed to, and the two novels I published here. Oh, bummer.
Dismantling the stacks of books accumulated through the years also led to the creation of three boxes
a . a box with the extra copies of my own works (because authors often get multiple copies of their books)
b . a box with the out-of-the-blue volumes that authors sometimes receive from colleagues, or publishers, the “I would love to know what you think of this book” sort of thing.
c . a box of notebooks, mostly untouched, bought in bulk in local stores and supermarket, and then set aside because they were too good to be spoiled with writing or sketches, or because, really, I have lost the stamina to write more than half a page with my pen.
My current plans are to find something to do with the contents of boxes a and b (giveaways? swaps? something else? I am open to suggestions), and maybe start using the contents of box c. I am also finally setting up a full shelf for my collection of Arabian Nights editions and associated texts. It’s going to be a nice way to spend the hottest hours in the next few days.
And here’s the last of the six stories we selected for our podcast about C.A. Smith and his works. As already mentioned, for some reason – probably because he always wrote about worlds more than about characters – CAS was never as popular as R.E. Howard with the fantasy crowd, or H.P. Lovecraft with the horror people. CAS has been subject to cyclical disappearances and rediscoveries – a fitting destiny, considering the lost kingdoms ad forgotten peoples that often appear in his works. Hopefully, our podcast (and this short series of posts) will lead someone to go and dig through the dusty stacks of the library, to learn more about Clark Ashton Smith.
To end our brief exploration, I selected a late story belonging to the Zothique cycle – Morthylla, originally published in Weird Tales in May 1953.
Valzain, disciple of the poet Fomurza, has grown melancholic and unhappy, unable to participate in the revels in which Fomurza and his friends spend their time waiting for the Sun to die, and with the Sun, the Earth and Zothique, the last continent. Seeking some sort of solace, Valzain visits an ancient graveyard, supposedly haunted by the lamia Morthylla – once a beautiful princess, now a creature of the night. Flirting with the lamia does revive the sagging spirits of the poet, but this surge of necrophiliac passion is destined to leave Valzain disappointed.
According to a certain tradition, CAS stopped writing after HPL’s death. Morthylla shows it was not so straightforward – and it is a solid, very polished and elegant story, one that shows that CAS’ writing kept evolving in his later years. The torrid atmosphere of decay and debauchery is quickly sketched, and then the action moves to the graveyard where Morthylla awaits. Or does she?
“Who are you?” he asked, with a curiosity that over powered his courtesy. “I am the lamia Morthylla,” she replied, in a voice that left behind it a faint and elusive vibration like that of some briefly sounded harp. “Beware me — for my kisses are forbidden to those who would remain numbered among the living.” Valzain was startled by this answer that echoed his fantasies. Yet reason told him that the apparition was no spirit of the tombs but a living woman who knew the legend of Morthylla and wished to amuse herself by teasing him. And yet what woman would venture alone and at night to a place so desolate and eerie?
Clark Ashton Smith, Morthylla
After the gruesome horrors of The Isle of the Torturers or the brutality of The Dark Eidolon, Morthylla is almost delicate in the way in which the main plot points are handled. This is one last spark of romanticism in a dying world soaked in hedonism and cynicism. And many of the objections that can be raised about the bulk of CAS’ work are meaningless here. Morthylla is an almost perfect exercise in class and restraint, the dark undercurrents kept out of the way, but still perceivable at the edge of the story. This is Clark Ashton Smith at the top of his game. A perfect ending to our short overview.
I mentioned a few weeks back my involvement with The Expanse Expanded, a special issue of the magazine Red Futures edited by Jamie Woodcock – a collection of essays on various aspects of The Expanse, both the novels and the TV series (and the roleplaying game too).
Now, for those that are interested, at this linkyou can download the ebook version of the volume, in a variety of formats, free of charge. You can also find a link to buy a physical copy of the volume – which I recommend, but then, I would, wouldn’t I?
Have fun – and if you read the book please drop me a line to tell me what you think, or even better, post a review online. Thanks!
This is where it gets personal. The third Yoko Tsuno adventure, La Forge de Vulcain was published in 1973, and it is also the first Yoko Tsuno story I ever read, when I was about 9 or 10 – therefore, in 1976 or ’77, when it was published in Italian. The book was later published as the ninth English-language Yoko Tsuno volume, as Vulcan’s Forge.
Re-reading this about 45 years after the first time, I was impressed by how sharply I remembered some details – the Vinean jet changing configuration, shifting from standard atmospheric flight to vertical descent into the depths of the ocean and then the earth is probably what got me hooked. But really, reading Vulcan’s Forge at such a young age clearly had consequences.
The story takes the Curious Trio to Martinique, where a Shell drilling platform has struck some unusual material – a material that Yoko recognizes as some of the mysterious metal used by the Vineans in episode #1. We soon find out that the drill perforated a pipeline built by the Vineans and carrying magma. The mix of molten rock and gas (what the Shell crew is here to tap) might cause a big blast and a tsunami, and potentially trigger an extinction-level event. Yoko (with Vic and Pol in tow) must join the Vineans in trying to set everything straight, and fast. But a political change has taken place after episode 1 – no longer governed by a sociopath AI, the Vineans are now a somewhat fascist regime, led by the second-fiddle bad guy from episode 1, Karpan. A dissident pro-human faction exists (mostly composed of Vinean women), but they are treated as traitors and terrorists. So yes, this is a ego-engeneering adventure, with an extra of political intrigue and action, courtesy of the Vinean faction that is OK with exterminating humans.
This is a very hard-SF, tech-heavy comic book adventure – we get a lot of geophysics and geology, as we explore the caverns in which the Vineans live, complete with Verne-style giant mushroom forests and the remains of dead dinosaurs. We get the usual expository passages and technical footnotes, and the mecha-design is as always absolutely top notch. – and we get to see a lot of Vinean hardware. The design of the drilling platform is also very fine and highly realistic. This is a very hard-SF, tech-heavy comic book adventure – we get a lot of geophysics and geology, as we explore the caverns in which the Vineans live, complete with Verne-style giant mushroom forests and the remains of dead dinosaurs. We get the usual expository passages and technical footnotes -this is supposed to be, in a way, educational or inspirational.
And as I said this is becoming personal, because 10-years-old me was getting heavily into volcanoes and dinosaurs at the time, and so maybe Yoko Tsuno had a hand in pushing me to pursue a career in earth sciences. And, I mean, why not? And I did later work for Shell – something that might be controversial today (oil companies are not as environmentally concerned as they appear in this comic) but that contributed to make me what I am today.
Thankfully, Vic and Pol are out of the way for most of the adventure, while Yoko gets to meet a few characters from episode #1. The character design is rapidly shifting to a classical Ligne Claire look(*), and for a young readers’ story this one looks like a million bucks. We are about to take a step back with the fourth volume, but for the moment, everything looks great.
(*) I think maybe I might need to do a post comparing the Marcinelle and Ligne Claire styles of Franco-Belgian comics. Supposing someone’s interested.
Red Sonja (with a J), sometimes known as She-Devil with a Sword, debuted in 1973, fore Marvel Comics – written by Roy Thomas and drawn by Barry Windsor-Smith.
The character was a very free interpretation of the character Red Sonya (with a Y), that appeared in a single Robert E. Howard story, The Shadow of the Vulture, published in The Magic Carpet Magazine in January 1934. The story is currently reprinted in the excellent Sword Woman and other Historical Adventures, by DelRey Books.
The comic book Sonja had a long and distinguished career as a Marvel character, before being retired in the mid ’80s (there was an extra one-shot story in the ’90s). Sonja went on to star in an abysmally silly movie, portrayed by the statuesque but wooden Brigitte Nielsen, and starred in a series of six paperback novels, penned by Richard L. Tierney, with covers by Boris Vallejo. (confessions of a sword & sorcery fan: I first discovered Red Sonja, in the mid-80s, via the Boris covers – so sue me)
2023 marks therefore the 50th anniversary of the coming of Red Sonja and Dynamite Entertainment (that revived the character in 2005) is offering a HUGE collection of digital comics via the Humble Bundle platform. For less than 17 quid, you get 21 collections – for a total of over 100 individual volumes – featuring the She-Devil with a Sword. Part of the money will go to a charity – in this case, the Hero Initiative, benefiting comic artists.
Great value for money, I think – especially considering the selection includes three volumes of Marvel reprints and a couple of weird cross-overs and stand-alones. Because yes, reader, I purchased it – and I am toying with the idea of doing a Red Sonja 50th Anniversary reading somewhere. Who knows, someone might be interested.
We are coming to the end of our very short overview of Clark Ashton Smith’s opus, and once again I selected a Zothique story, The Isle of the Torturers, from 1933.
This was in in the March 1933 issue of Weird Tales (the same issue that included the Conan story, The Tower of the Elephant), and was later reprinted in an anthology edited by Christine Campbell Thomson and called Keep on the Light. The volume was the ninth in a series of horror anthologies called Not at Night, from the title of the first volume, and published in the UK by Selwin & Blount. Thomson was a British writer, editor and occultist – she was friends with Dion Fortune – and her anthology series provided a British showcase for American writers out of Weird Tales, including H. P. Lovecraft.
I honestly knew nothing of these anthologies, but for all interested parties, here is the table of contents of the volume in question
The Library by Hester Gaskell Holland Golden Lilies by Oscar Cook The Chadbourne Episode by Henry S Whitehead Worms of the Earth by Robert E Howard The Black hare by Flavia Richardson Tiger Dust by Bassett Morgan The House of Shadows by Mary Elizabeth Counselman Green Slime by J Dyott Matthews The Seven Locked Room by J D Kerruish Legion of Evil by Warden Ledge The Head of Wu Fang by Don C Wiley The Way He Died by Guy Preston The Cult of the White Ape by Hugh B Cave Althorpe Abbey by Rosalie Muspratt Isle of Torturers by Clark Ashton Smith
So yes, CAS is in fine company, sharing the book with one of the best Robert E. Howard stories (the same could be said for the Weird Tales March ’33 issue), and with works by weird/supernatural greats Hugh B. Cave and Henry S. Whitehead.
And The Isle of the Torturers is an excellent story, it is often listed with Smith’s best works, and is one of the best examples of CAS doing “a story proper”. Too often Smith’s stories are plot-light, and focus on the mood and the ambience. But in this case, the structure is very solid, it has a nice set up and payoff structure, and the dialogues, if brief, are spot on.
Prince Fulbra is the only survivor of his people after a lethal plague, known as the Silver Death, has depopulated a fair chunk of Zothique, the last continent. Only a magic ring, created by his father’s court wizard, keeps the contagion at bay. Leaving his dead country behind, Fulbra travels the world, and his ship sinks on the coast of Uccastrog, the island of the torturers, whose people follow a degenerate and sadistic cult whose primary focus is causing pain to others. Captured, Fulbra is subjected to a selection of particularly gruesome tortures, and al that keeps him hanging to his life and sanity is the promise of freedom that a young woman brings to him. She’s sick of the Uccastrog way, and hopes to flee the island with Fulbra. It will end very badly.
Smith’s language is as rich and colorful as usual, but the storytelling is more economical, the story is tighter, and while the author clearly has a lot of fun inventing and describing unspeakable ways to cause pain and suffering, the story remains compact, and hits hard. Smith’s signature tongue-in-cheek macabre humor is here, but it does not come to the forefront – Isle of the Torturers is a tragic, dark story, and a great piece of fantasy fiction. The finale is predictable, but Smith hits us with so many horrors, that he manages to slip the ending under our radars while we are distracted. The payoff is highly satisfactory.
This is one of the stories that hooked me on Zothique. Also, way back in the days, I read ther Zothique collection right after finishing the classic Elric stories by Michael Moorcock, and I always thought Uccastrog would fit nicely in the Young Kingdoms, maybe just off the shores of Pan Tang. But that’s just me.
Karavansara 