Terminal Alliance!

The first book in the Janitors of the Post-Apocalypse series by Jim C. Hines is out! Just started it, but it’s wonderful already. A small excerpt:

In Earth year 2144, nine years before the Krakau arrived on earth, a delegation from the fledgling Krakau Alliance met with four Prodryan military leaders to negotiate a truce. Their efforts failed, but records of the exchange offer insight into ongoing Prodryan hostilities. An excerpt from the transcript, translated into Human, follows.

Canon D. Major (Krakau diplomat): We understand your instinctive drive to expand and colonize. There is room enough for all in the vast ocean of space. Why waste your resources attacking other species?

Wings of Silver (Prodryan warrior): Because of our assholes.

Major: …

Farkunwinkubar (Glacidae diplomat): I beg your pardons?

Final Countdown (Krakau technician): Apologies, honored delegates. Our translation software is having difficulties with the Prodryan battle dialect. I believe the problem should now be corrected.

Major: Thank you. Wings of Silver, could you please repeat your reason for these ongoing attacks:

Wings of Silver: Because we are assholes.

Major: Dammit, Countdown!

After further troubleshooting and berating of Technician Countdown, it was determined that the second translation was in fact accurate. The Prodryan system of what we might call “ethics” is largely instinctual. The strongest drive is for species expansion and survival at all costs. The Prodryan mindset automatically classifies all other life-forms into either potential resources (food) or potential threats.

Prodryans are aware of their own nature, and openly acknowledge their selfishness, lack of empathy, and determination to destroy anyone and anything they deem dangerous or not of use to the Prodryan race.

In short, Wings of Silver was correct. Prodryans are a race of assholes who have warred against the galaxy for more than a century.

One thing I fell in love with right away was the names of the humans. When the Krakau rescued them, they realized the importance of names to humans, and compiled a vast list of names from earth sources. People chose names they liked the sound of, with no regard to gender, because that sort of thing didn’t make any sense to them. (Or the Krakau.) Favourite line so far: “I’m a computer. I’m aware of the math.

And for those of us who are happy about this new series, but still long for more Magic ex Libris, there will be a Jeneta centered novelette, Imprinted, out on January 9th, 2018. Yay!

Word Wednesday.

The Penguin Book of the Undead: Fifteen Hundred Years of Supernatural Encounters, Scott G. Bruce.

Prodigy

Noun, plural –gies.

1a: a portentous event: Omen. b: something extraordinary or inexplicable.

2a: an extraordinary, marvelous, or unusual accomplishment, deed, or event. b: a highly talented child or youth.

[Origin: Middle English, from Latin prodigium omen, monster, from pro–, prod– + igium (akin to aio I say).]

(15th Century).

“In the northern parts of England as well, we know of another prodigy, not unlike this one and equally strange, that happened around the same time. At the mouth of the river Tweed and under the jurisdiction of the king of Scotland, there is a noble town called Berwick. In this town there lived a man of wealth, but a scoundrel, as became clear afterward. After his death he was buried, but at night he went forth from his grave through the workings – as some believe – of Satan. And followed by a pack of loudly barking dogs, he wandered about hither and thither.” – The Penguin Book of the Undead: Fifteen Hundred Years of Supernatural Encounters, Scott G. Bruce.

“In truth, we should clearly remember very carefully that whenever prodigies are clearly revealed to people who are still alive whether by good or evil spirits, it often happens that those who see them do not live for very long thereafter.” – The Penguin Book of the Undead: Fifteen Hundred Years of Supernatural Encounters, Scott G. Bruce.

Guess Me.

Guess Me, a curious collection of enigmas, charades, acting charades, double acrostics, conundrums, verbal puzzles, hieroglyphics, anagrams, etc. Compiled and arranged by Frederick D’Arros Planché; 1879; Pott, Young and co. in New York.

Illustrated by George Cruikshank among others, this example of good old-fashioned and wholesome entertainment offers a collection of enigmas, conundrums, acrostics, “decapitations”, and a series of incredibly tricky rebuses. The preface explains that an enigma can have many solutions whereas a conundrum only has one, and that “The essence of a good conundrum is to be found in its answer, which should be itself something of a pun, a puzzle, or an epigram, an inversion of the regular and ordinary meaning of the word.”

There are 631 conundrums:

A sample, click for full size:

Oh, these are awful, and quite wonderful, well, some of them. There’s quite a bit of casual racism and misogyny to be found, too. Via The Public Domain, or you can just click right over to the book.

Faust 1.

Title page and opening pages of Faust, by Harry Clarke. Note the beautiful self-portrait in the last image (Clarke as Faust, figure on the right). One thing that’s fun to do with all of the illustrations is to count all the eyes. Many, lots! :D There are some noted phalluses, too, but those are a bit later on.

Word Wednesday.

Pestilent

Adjective.

1: destructive of life: Deadly.

2: injuring or endangering society: Pernicious.

3: causing displeasure or annoyance.

4: infectious, contagious.

– pestilently, adverb.

[Origin: Middle English, from Latin pestilent-, pestilens pestilential, from pestis.]

(14th Century)

“Sir Richard was a pestilent innovator, it is certain. Before his time the Hall had been a fine block of the mellowest red brick; but Sir Richard had travelled in Italy and become infected with the Italian taste, and, having more money than his predecessors, he determined to leave an Italian palace where he had found an English house.” The Ash-Tree, Ghost Stories of an Antiquary, by M.R. James.

Note: It seems to me that pestilent innovator is a fine descriptor of Trump, although the ‘innovator’ might be a tad complimentary.

Medieval Werewolves.

Medieval werewolves were a popular subject, but they were quite different from the slavering, unreasoning beasts of later depictions. Werewolves weren’t necessarily bad, and retained the ability to reason. Even the transformation was different.

One way of man-to-wolf transformation is to wear a wolfskin – this is most common in Old Norse-Icelandic literature, where the wolf-man is frequently referred to in skin-related terms, echoing the tradition of berserkr and úlfheðnar, battle-frenzied warriors wearing nothing but bear/wolf skin. Gerald of Wales (1146 – 1223) also reports a priest encountering a werewolf couple while travelling across the region of Ossory in Ireland. When the priest refused to perform last rites for the dying she-wolf, fearing that she might be some Devil ’s trick, the man-wolf ‘unzips ’ the wolfskin to reveal an old woman underneath, as if it were just a coat. The difference in transformative mode results in a difference in emphasis: when the wolf comes out of the man, it is as if the wolf – the wolf is the essence. In the medieval portrayal, on the other hand, even though in some cases the wolfskin/form does bring out the beast within, the man is only wrapped,hidden, but never destroyed, and the werewolf is more like a riddle, waiting to be solved.

In Jim C. Hines’s Princess series, I loved that the character of Red Hood was this form of werewolf – the inside of her red cape was a wolfskin. If she flipped it so the wolfskin was on the outside, she transformed.

Medieval werewolves got along just fine in knightly and courtly sense.

‘Be a wolf, have the understanding of … a man!’

The quote above is from Arthur and Gorlagon, [English starts on page 24] one of the four Arthurian Romances written in Latin. In the story, King Gorlagon is turned into a wolf by his treacherous wife. She could have gotten away with the crime, had she not made the mistake of enhancing ‘the understanding of a man ’ instead of  ‘the understanding of a wolf ’. A most unlikely mistake, and most unfortunate on the wife’s part, but it brings another major difference between modern and medieval werewolves: the medieval ones are rarely savage monsters; instead, they can be surprisingly intelligent, rational, and well-behaved. Melion, Bisclavret, and Gorlagon find no difficulty in mingling with the king ’s knights and courtiers – Gorlagon even sits on the horse and waits on the king’s table ‘with his forepaws erect ’. Granted, courtesy does not make werewolves mild and friendly creatures, but even when they perform some deeds of violence, that violence is well justified. Take Bisclavret for example: the wolf inflicts great harm upon his wife and her lover, but the action is read as revenge, thus confirming, rather than forfeiting the wolf ’s humanity.

Werewolf (1512).Lucas Cranach the Elder .Gotha,Herzogliches Museum (Landesmuseum).

Other differences were transformation triggers; Medieval werewolves were not ruled by the full moon. Bisclavret transformed at will, with no regard to the moon. There were two tales which did take a lunar trigger into account:

The only example of a full moon transformation is found in Otia Imperialia or ‘Recreation for an Emperor’, a speculum written by Gervase of Tilbury (1150 – 1220) for Otto IV (1175 –1218).  Gervase reports men turning into wolves ‘according to the cycles of the moon’. He gives two examples:The first, is a certain Pons de Chapteuil, a knight-turned-vagabond that becomes mad while ‘wandering alone like a wild beast … deranged by extreme fear’. Despite Gervase’s earlier mention of the moon, Pons de Chapteuil’s transformation is primarily a physical manifestation of his social identity and emotion. The other werewolf is Chaucevaire, who does transform under lunar influence, but does so only when there is a new moon, the opposite to a traditional full moon transformation. The connection between the werewolf and the moon the etymology of the Latin word moon, luna, which is associated with lunatics. Their loss of human reason dehumanizes them, rendering them figurative beasts, which, as the previous point shows, apparently is not the case with most werewolves.

In the Discworld Watch books, Terry Pratchett compromised with his primary werewolf character, Delphine Angua von Uberwald, who could transform at will, but was subject to an irresistible trigger at the full moon. Medieval werewolves also didn’t have an appearance which was distinct from natural wolves. They might have been a bit larger, but that was all, so there was no easy way to distinguish a werewolf.

I can’t help thinking that Aargh, the English Wolf would have considered them all with disdain.

From Medievalists, an article by Minji Su, Current DPhil student at Oxford university, researching on werewolves in medieval Icelandic literature.

Spirits of Malice and Other Undeadness.

New book!

The Penguin Book of the Undead: Fifteen Hundred Years of Supernatural Encounters, by Scott G. Bruce.

Just got this downloaded, really looking forward to it. Came across this at Medievalists, in a short article about how Medieval people dealt with those pesky dead people who refused to stay dead and buried. The cover art, which I think is fabulous, is by Anton Semenov, check out more of their work here.

This will make lovely nighttime reading.