The bread machine is working just fine, and we’re keeping it going – there’s nothing better than freshly baked bread after so many weeks of dry biscuits and crackers. And yes, as my brother keeps repeating, we should have bought this baby two years ago. So, everything seems to be fine.
And while the bread machine is churning our Sunday loaf, I spent some time browsing my social – try to understand why Amazon thinks I’m French and keeps suggesting books in French, and why Facebook only notifies me posts in Portuguese and Tamil, and ads for 5000-bucks-a-night hotels.
Back when dinosaurs ruled the Earth – i.e., the early ’80s – I was for a while a member of a science fiction and fantasy fans club. Apart from regular meetings that I was not able to attend, because they were held 500 kms from where I lived, and I was fifteen, and broke, I received a bi-monthly magazine that featured stories, art, articles and reviews. The most interesting part for me were the reviews – especially the three or four pages devoted to a roundup of what noteworthy titles had been recently published in the USA. The plots, the titles and the covers were the stuff that dreams were made of.
I’ve just caught a bunch of thirty-something guys (and a few gals) waxing nostalgic about the good old days of the Roman Empire, when Rome was, you know, “caput mundi” – the head of the world.
And now don’t get me wrong – I love history, and I’ve set a few stories in late Roman times, and all that, but it still makes me shiver when I see younger people clearly get all excited about the idea of walking across other people’s lives wearing nailed sandals.
You listen to these people, missing the Roman laws and the law and order a nice dose of Roman Legions would bring, and you wonder how they get their shoes tied, and what goes on in their lives.
Maybe it comes from the fact that when I was born, it was less than a quarter of a century since a poor distorted photocopy of the Empire had failed horribly, but not before involving my people in a war – on the side of the Nazis, of all things – and being a willing and enthusiastic accessory in the killing of thousands of our fellows citizens because they were considered less than human. Maybe it’s this, yes.
And I find it curious that these staunch supporters of an Empire that’s been gone for eighteen centuries (excepting poor copies thereof), are also strongly against the European Community and the Eurozone, and will shout about dictatorship when asked to wear a surgical mask to protect their fellow citizens. People that are in favor of the rule of law, as long as they are exempted.
But ah, the good old days of gladiatorial games and crucifying dissidents! Creepy.
And so I thought I’ll go back to reading a few Bran Mak Morn stories, just because with such supporters of the Empire rutting about, I feel like going to the other side. And then I might finally go and re-read Talbot Mundy’s Tros of Samothrace. Maybe posting regularly about it here on the blog. Let’s stick it to the (Roman) Man!
But I don’t like the vibes I am getting from the people out there – well, some of them, at least. There is darkness gathering out there, and it’s going to be a long cold winter. Stay safe.
Turns out a debate opened, on Facebook or thereabouts, two days ago, about the fact whether Howard’s Conan stories are sword & sorcery or heroic fantasy. Because that’s an important thing, you see. To some. Apparently.
I was not present when the thing started, but apparently a friend referring to Conan as sword & sorcery caused somebody’s knicks to get in a twist. Which is interesting, because everything started from a discussion about Fritz Leiber (him again), and we all know – or should know – that the label of Sword & Sorcery was coined by Leiber when Moorcock asked him about a tag for “the sort of fantasy stories Robert E. Howard wrote”. It was 1961, the venue was the fanzine Amra.
So, the point should be moot, and yet… is there a difference?
My wonderful ergonomic keyboard is showing its age – two thirds of the keys are worn shiny and the letters are gone, and the space bar gets stuck and all that. So I’ve decided I’ll try and learn to repair computer keyboards, but in the meantime I’ve ordered a new mechanical keyboard taking advantage of the current Black Friday Before Time offers from Amazon.
Now this will sound all sorts of kinky, but there’s a strange sort of anticipation, and pleasure, in unpacking, setting up and breaking in a new keyboard. Yeah, I know, it sounds weird. But as a writer, I’ll be spending a lot of time with my keyboard, it will be my working tool – just as my PC and my writing software etc. And more, I’ll be using it physically, actually touching the thing.
Mondadori, the major Italian publishing group, will hit the shelves this week with a massive 1300-pages volume featuring all the Lankhmar stories written by Fritz Leiber. To celebrate this, I did a piece on MELANGE, the independent magazine of fantasy and culture – and because I was asked by some friends that do not read Italian, I’ve translated the piece, and I’m posting it here. Enjoy.
Karavansara 