Samalio Pardulus

 

Samalio Pardulus by Otto Julius Bierbaum
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The word "transgressive" is a trite over-used, particularly in academia, where it seems anything is okay to write a thesis on, so long as it's "transgressive". In all honesty, the word is losing its meaning, losing its sting. In my experience, I've seen this phrase used anachronistically in historical and literary theses, in particular. We've made the word blase, boring, even, in the 21st-Century, and imposed it on many texts and circumstances that don't really deserve the word.

Then along comes Otto Julius Bierbaum's Samalio Pardulus. Given that it was first published in 1908, before the horrors of World War I stripped away all innocence (now THAT is a transgressive event if there ever was one!), this work is a prime example of why the word was invented in the first place. Another word that has lost all meaning nowadays, "blasphemous," also describes this work quite well. The corruption of the Christ and Madonna figures in Samalio Pardulus own artwork, along with his un-natural love for his beautiful sister, qualify the work as both blasphemous and transgressive. As with all such "good" examples of such works, the ugly, the evil, and the dark are not only portrayed, but eventually they corrupt those who would have earlier fought against such things (as part of the moral order and how things "ought to be") so much that the erstwhile innocents not only accept the morbid drippings that fall from Pardulus' table, they practically feast on them, in the end. As Messer Giacomo, the initial art-teacher for Pardulus, states "Art is the worst snare of evil". This story sets out to prove that and does so, quite convincingly.

Alfred Kubin's art, always a welcome addition to any book, in my opinion, serves to provide dark glimpses into the scenes and artworks described in the tale. These were not added until the 1911 edition, well before the war, but with a sort of mood that makes one wonder how prescient Kubin was about what was to come in a mere three years. While reading and admiring the art, I thought of the toleplaying game Never Going Home in which the horrors of World War I unleash hell on Earth. This work feels like an initial foray, a peek into what was to come, lurking in the interstices of "good" society.

This is well worth your read. And with the inexpensive, simple, and beautiful editions that Wakefield Press provides (again and again and again), you should feel like you're stealing it when you buy it. You may lose a piece of your innocence.

And that's the perfect mood for this book.



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Sky ov Crimson Flame by Dunjon Magic

 

First off, thank you to Thorin Thompson for this little magnetic wonder. For those not in the know, the musical genre known as "Dungeon Synth" is, well, just what it says it is: Synthesizer music about and for dungeons. You don't have to play Dungeon Crawl Classics or Dungeons & Dragons to enjoy it, but it helps.Truth be told, you've probably heard this genre before and didn't even know you were listening to it. I would consider the opening lines to Ozzy Osbourne's "Mister Crowley" to be proto-dungeon synth. And if you've watched any really bad late-'70s or '80s fantasy, science fiction, or horror movies, you've probably unwittingly heard the genre before. Why "really bad"? Well, the technology for music back then isn't what it is now. If you're a Generation-X nerd like me, this is the sort of thing you wish you could have played on that cheap Casio-tone your mom bought to practice church hymns on because your family couldn't afford a real piano. But you only wished you could reach the heights and depths of Dungeon Synth. Simply put, you could not. The technology wasn't quite there unless your name rhymed with Ron Rarpenter and had a movie-level budget to buy all the best synths.

Thanfully, technology has progressed and become more affordable to the masses. Queue in mid-90's Black Metal and the need for creepy, melodic intros to more raw, powerful music. This is where the Dungeon Synth movement really began to take hold. I don't have the time or the wherewithal to trace the history of Dungeon Synth. Others have done this (I strongly recommend this reddit post on the subject). 

So what do we have here? Thorin has created a soundtrack for his Sky ov Crimson Flame adventure for Dungeon Crawl Classics (free quick-start rules are here!). It's as creepy as you would expect (I mean, look at that cover!) with an air of menacing mystery. Would I play this in the background while running Sky ov Crimson Flame? Of course. Would I play this in the background while running any weird or eerie dungeon crawling adventure? Absolutely. Would I just listen to the awesome music for the sake of listening to the awesome music? I'm doing that right now! Strongly recommended for your macabre moods!

And I would strongly recommend picking this up. Don't worry, non-cassette-player-owners. You can get the digital download over on Bandcamp. What are you waiting for?

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Dhalgren

 

Dhalgren by Samuel R. Delany
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The older I grow, the more I realize that my childhood might have been exceptional. Not exceptionally good, mind you, just an exception to what the "normal" American child experiences. I was raised as an Air Force brat. Born in Germany, lived in The Philippines, Italy, England, and all over the US (Texas, Minnesota, Nebraska, Wyoming). Since the commencement of "adulting," I've lived in Pennsylvania, California, Utah, and Wisconsin. This shiftiness, especially in the first eighteen years of life, led to forming and cutting friendships and love in rapid order. I have no idea what it's like to have a "hometown". That just doesn't exist for me. I keep contact with a select few people I knew as a child. And even though I've lived in Wisconsin for nearly thirty years now, I still feel like a wanderer on this planet.

In all these journeyings, I've come to appreciate places for their unique mood, style, atmosphere, amusements, and shortcomings. When I visit a new place, I like to soak up the ambience and get to know the place. Cities, in particular, have personalities, I've found. My favorites are Oxford (UK), Vienna (Austria), and Madison, Wisconsin (US).

I've also met some strange characters in my life's wanderings. When I was young, I had more time and freedom to get to know individuals who lived out of the mainstream of society. Freaks, geeks, punks, goths, metalheads, gangsters, ex-soldiers, mystics, chronic alcoholics and drug abusers, the chronically mentaly ill, the homeless, other wanderers. The list can go on and on. I find humans endlessly fascinating and endlessly frustrating. I have a love/hate relationship with the human race. For the record: mostly, I love 'em!

I find that my experiences have everything to do with Dhalgren. Everything.

I'll be honest, I was shocked at how much I related to many of the characters in this book. Because I knew them. Some I still know. I won't name names, but the carnival of personalities in this work are almost all people I've met. It's an ugly bunch, with a lot of deviance from social norms. These are "my people".

But the real main character in this story is not the protagonist, who has forgotten his name and is simply called Kid throughout. The main charachter in this story is the city, Bellona.

Like any city, this work of psychogeographical semi-apocalyptic fiction is not particularly "linear". In fact, the last section's typeset is intentionally non-linear, with "asides" that contrast sharply with the other text in its immediate vicinity, a choppy fluidity between space and time-lines, and an aggressively experimental layout. Much like a city. In fact, I'd say this is one of the greatest works of psychogeography I've read to date.

And why "semi-apocalyptic"? Before I answer, let me point out that my Dad, an avid and voracious reader of science fiction (I owe that addiction to him), had this book on his bedside shelf for many months. I don't know if he ever finished it, but it eventually disappeared some time in the early '80s. So when I began the book, I was expecting all the regular tropes of science fiction, but something of a higher intellectual train than the pulps. Well, I was altogether wrong. Dhalgren is a semi-apocalyptic work, a story set in a city that has become a sort of pocket dimension, it's own entity, while still existing in a decidedly non-apocalyptic America. It's a place that time and space didn't forget, really, but a place that time and space set aside for its own little apocalypse. Something like "The Zone" in Roadside Picnic, or like what happened to the planet of Tekumel in the Empire of the Petal Throne universe.

In Bellona, things have become . . . disordered. Imagine that the late '60s and early '70s never ended, but that law and order were simply absent. It's not utter chaos - people still gather in groups, some in communes, some in gangs, some in ultra-luxurious compounds, some in . . . utter denial of the situation they are in (they try to maintain a "normal" lifestyle, despite the crumbling city and social order). Yes, there is violence, but there is also love and loyalty. As Depeche Mode used to say "People are People". And so it is in Bellona.

But Bellona is a jealous city. It doesn't let go so easily that one just walks away. Something undefined and strange compels many people to stay, though some do "escape" . . . if they avoid the forces that have been put in place to contain the decay of the city from escaping into the rest of the world. Well, it's not so mystical as it sounds, but as in many cities, people find it difficult, sometimes impossible (because of ideology, economics, or relationships) to leave.

Is the city alive? Maybe, maybe not.

Are the people who enter it under some kind of geas that doesn't allow them to leave? Possibly.

Will everyon who reads this work enjoy it? I doubt it.

Is Dhalgren a great work of experimental science fiction? Absolutely.

I'm glad I journeyed there. Though it was rough going, at times. Very rough going. I myself was, for a time, trapped against my will. But, as with many of the places I've seen in my life, I would return, if only for a visit.

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