A Book Review of Lin Carter's *Literary Swordsmen and Sorcerers* (Sauk City: Arkham House, 1976)

I've recently been reading Lin Carter's famous essay collection about the pioneers of sword and sorcery, Literary Swordsmen and Sorcerers: The Makers of Heroic Fantasy (Sauk City: Arkham House, 1976). It's a fun book, a relaxing read, but in terms of analysis, it falls short. It's more and less a biographical reference guide for a variety of heroic fantasy writers. I came to it specifically because of the chapter on Clark Ashton Smith. I'm trying to write a chapter in my dissertation about Smith, and locating basic biographical material has been difficult.

The most interesting essay in the anthology, I think, is the opening one: "The Sword of Faerie." In this essay, De Camp surveys imaginative literature from its mythical "origin" to its most recent incarnations. He effectively binds together the classical manifestations of heroic fantasy like Ancient Greek and Anglo-Saxon epic poetry to the modern manifestations, e.g. Robert E. Howard's Conan the Barbarian stories, H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu mythos stories, and J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. Further, he binds together the Gothic novel, the historical novel, the novel of romantic primitivism, in an attempt to portray imaginative literature as a kind of thread running through literary history.

Other essays are worth reading for their information but I was reluctant of some of the analysis. The one on Robert E. Howard offers an unsympathetic view of the writer's life and deals in suspicious armchair psychology. Of particular note is Carter's essay on J.R.R. Tolkien. He states that the The Hobbit comes close to "universal appeal" and rightly observes that "few works can be read with pleasure" by both adult and young readers (224). I completely agree. To corroborate Carter's idea, I'll say that The Hobbit was a profound experience for me as a young kid. I read it in the 5th grade and have had a habit of reading and re-reading it since. I return to the book often.

Carter also claims that Tolkien was what he calls a "rurophile," a worshiper of an idealized vision of nature. He states that, for Tolkien, "life in the Industrial Age had some of the qualities of life in prison" (234). I find that intriguing, this notion that a sense of the cruelty and inhumanity modern life shades Tolkien's work; however, Carter seems to criticize or at least poke fun at Tolkien for his apparent negative vision of modernity. There's a strange propensity in Carter's work to interpret or morally censure the personalities and lives of the writer's he is studying (writer's he ostensibly enjoys).

This is a classic text, I'd say, worth the money and the time; however, Carter's style of literary criticism is just strange. It hybridizes basic historical literary research with psychological case studies. At the same he's relating for you essential information about these writers--in bald "info-dump" fashion--he's also "judging" them, speculating about whether they were psychologically sound.

To an extent, as a literary criticism, it's kind of a parody of the Freudian psychoanalytical literary criticism that was vogue in the 40s and 50s.

Lin Carter and Clark Ashton Smith's, "The Stairs in the Crypt": Pastiche and the Haunting of Art

Last night I read another Clark Ashton Smith pastiche written by Lin Carter, a short story called "The Stairs in the Crypt." I loved it! It's about a necromancer whose apprentices fail to bury him properly, and, of course, like all necromancers who aren't properly stowed away after death, he rises, organizes an army of ghouls, and proceeds to go about the countryside feasting on the living. This is such an interesting juxtaposition of fantasy and horror. Also, the language is great. Carter does a good job approximating Smith's beautiful language and prose style. It's a wonderful pastiche!

I have to admit something. I'm always slightly disturbed when I read genre fiction pastiches. Why? Well, before answering that let me be as clear as possible and give you an idea of what I think pastiche's are.

A pastiche is defined as "a literary, artistic, musical, or architectural work that imitates the style of previous work" (http://www.merriam-webster.com). It's different from parody, which is "a literary or musical work in which the style of an author or work is closely imitated for comic effect or in ridicule" (http://www.merriam-webster.com).

The key difference between parody and pastiche, one might argue, is the issue of "respect." Both "parodies" and "pastiches" are imitations; however, the significant question becomes, what is the intention of the author? To recreate the aesthetic effect of the work that is being imitated? Pastiche. Or, to make fun of it or to ridicule it? Parody.

No doubt in my mind: Carter is writing pastiches of Smith's work and not parodies. He clearly respects the author's work. And, lo, he has written a very entertaining/provocative story.

And this disturbs me. But why?

A good pastiche haunts my definition of art. A key element of artistic worth, for me, is originality. And, a first principal of a pastiche is its imitative quality. It's key characteristic is its unoriginality. Thus, to truly take aesthetic pleasure in a pastiche requires, I think, one conditionally set aside originality as a key feature of art.

I'm not ready to do that. And yet! A good pastiche written with genuine enthusiasm and, dare I say, love of the original work, has the capacity to trouble my aesthetic first principles.

Lin Carter's, "The Scroll of Morloc" and the Wonder-filled Primordial Scene of Humanity

Gods! It's been nearly two weeks since I last posted! I guess I underestimated how distracting writing my dissertation prospectus and teaching responsibilities would be.

Anyhow, I read a story this morning I wanted to briefly reflect on. It is a short story titled, "The Scroll of Morloc" by Lin Carter. It appears to be based on notes by Clark Ashton Smith. This story comes from the anthology, Lost Worlds, by Lin Carter, which is a collection of tales thematically unified as "a unique and marvel-haunted tour through magic lands no longer known to man" (from the back cover).

Some summary: the story relates the attempts by a disgruntled shaman--Yhemog of the Voormish tribe of Hyperborea--to desecrate a temple to Tathoggua. To an extent, the shaman succeeds; however, his success comes with it more than he bargained for. I'll refrain from giving away the ending.

I really enjoyed this story. The primary effect, for me, derived from the ancient and forgotten nature of the world it's set in. I'm not sure how much of this world is Carter's and how much of it is Smith's, but Hyperborea came to life for me through this story. It suggested itself as a kind of "primordial scene" of humanity that was filled with wonder and cruelty.

I think this effect, the ability to convey an "emotional idea of the mythical past," is one of the unique capacities of fantasy literature generally and sword and sorcery specifically. Utilizing material bequeathed by Smith, I think Carter succeeds in doing that here.

To a large extent, I think, the conveying of this feeling subordinates the construction of an interesting, twisting narrative. Indeed, the narrative shape of this story is quite simple and straightforward: the protagonist infiltrates forbidden territory and has an encounter therein.

But it's not in the narrative that the pleasure of this story coheres. It's in the effect. And the effect, I believe, is connected to the quality by which the setting is conveyed.