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Scale: What Pre-Modern Battles Really Looked Like

Scale: What Pre-Modern Battles Really Looked Like

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Gladiator
More men please!

That battle scene from Gladiator?

More men, please! Where you see a line of Romans, imagine five. Ancient armies numbered in the tens of thousands.

Sure, a thousand be-weaponed extras on-screen makes your mind go “1…2…3… Lots.” But real battles were several orders of magnitude larger.

Waterloo French Cavalry
More cavalry please!

Remember the Rod Steiger Waterloo? More cavalry, please! That should be 9,000 sabres. When you measure it out, they should fill the space between the two farmsteads. The only reason the Allied Infantry didn’t turn tail and run was because Wellington had positioned them behind a ridge so that they couldn’t see the tsunami of horseflesh about to wash around their squares.

Take an earlier battle on the same scale; Chalons — Huns and “allies” versus some Romans and lots of Romanized barbarians who hated each other. Jordanes says Chalons left 150,000 men dead on the field. That has to be a wild overestimate. However, suppose he’s out by a factor of ten and the body count reflects 10% of the men fighting… that takes us back to one hundred and fifty thousand warriors jostling and yelling, say about 75,000 a side.

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Passive vs Active Heroes

Passive vs Active Heroes

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Ask any established actor, and s/he will always say something along the lines of, “it’s much more fun to play a villain than a hero.” It’s no wonder: villains tend to get the best lines (“No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to die!”), certainly their share of the trophy companions, have a higher standard of living, enjoy life more, and many go to their eventual demise laughing.

There’s another difference, though, that strikes at the very core of the hero/villain dynamic. The villains get to be pro-active. That means that traditional heroes are always re-acting.

It’s in the nature of heroes to simply sit around and wait to be needed. The most vivid example of that is in Batman Returns, when Bruce Wayne (Michael Keaton) is shown sitting alone in the dark until the bat signal calls to his alter ego. Superman can’t act until Lex Luthor unveils his nefarious plan. Philip Marlowe has to wait for a client to walk in the door.

Just chillin' wit my batz waiting for yur signal.
Just chillin’ wit my batz waiting for yur signal.

And this goes against one of the great Rules of Writing, which is to never let your hero be passive. But it’s in the very nature of heroes to be passive, to wait until the villain makes a move, to respond to a threat. After all, how do you act like a hero pro-actively?

Well…ask Conan.

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The Cold Edge of Forever, II: City

The Cold Edge of Forever, II: City

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The City on the Edge of Forever, by Juan OrtizThis is the second part of my attempt to write about Star Trek, and specifically the episode “The City on the Edge of Forever.” For reasons which I hope will soon make sense I started off yesterday by writing about the 1954 short story “The Cold Equations.” What I’m about to try to do is tie that into a discussion of the Trek episode, and then go on to look at that episode in the context of the show overall. I am going to assume in what follows that you’re familiar with the episode (the plot synopsis is here; if it helps, it’s the one with the Guardian of Forever, where Kirk and Spock travel back to 1930), and that you know things like who Captain Kirk is, and who Mister Spock is, and so on and so forth. This I think is a fair assumption. Everybody knows these characters. Which is a part of why I want to talk about the episode, and its context. So before anything else, I want first to talk about the exercise of unknowing them. (And as an aside, the poster at right is by artist Juan Ortiz, who did an image for every episode of the original series. Worth taking a look at, and the whole run has been collected in a single book.)

Lately I’ve been watching the first season of Star Trek week by week, on a TV network that airs old shows from the 50s through 70s. Seeing the series in that context means seeing it as part of the fabric of its time. Some series, I`ve found, become very different: the original Twilight Zone, always a good show, becomes downright mind-bending. Watching Trek in that way I find myself caught up in the craft of the writing, direction, and (yes) acting; and I seem to forget everything I know about what happens outside of the show I’m seeing.

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An Open Letter to Amy Farrah-Fowler, Ph. D.

An Open Letter to Amy Farrah-Fowler, Ph. D.

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Puzzled Indiana JonesDear Dr. Farrah-Fowler,

Regarding your erroneous conclusion that Indiana Jones played no role in the outcome of Raiders of the Lost Ark, I can only express disappointment that your usual disciplined reason failed you in this instance.

Let us explore your thesis and remove Indiana Jones entirely from the equation. The year is 1936 and the Nazis are exploring a sand-covered ruin of a largish ancient Egyptian city (Tannis, a major religious center, was comparable to Thebes) in search of the Ark of the Covenant. Without the headpiece to the staff of Ra, brute manpower would not have been equal to the task before them in the short time available to the Nazis. The only similar ancient city destroyed by catastrophe and quickly preserved in such a manner is that of Pompeii. As you are no doubt aware, Pompeii has been excavated and explored off and on since 1748, and intensively between 1924-1961, yet we still have not progressed much outside the main streets or into second floors and basements. The Nazis, in theory, would have until the outbreak of war in September 1939 at the very latest to carry out their dig, a span of 3 years. Unless you posit the British Army would have been willing to let a detachment of Afrika Korps poke around Egypt within spitting distance of the Nile in wartime. If you believe that, I have a piece of the True Cross made out of Georgia Sweetgum you may be interested in buying.

I think we can dispense with the idea that the Nazis would have found the Ark without the headpiece to the Staff of Ra.

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The Cold Edge of Forever, I: Equations

The Cold Edge of Forever, I: Equations

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Astounding Science Fiction, August 1954I want to write about Star Trek. Specifically, about the episode “The City on the Edge of Forever.” But I’m not going to do that right now. I’ll get there, but I’m going to start off by writing about a well-known prose sf story that to me parallels “City” in some interesting ways. Then, in my next post, I’ll go on to write about the Trek episode and make a fuller comparison (edit to add: time having passed, you can find the post here). First up, though: “The Cold Equations.”

“The Cold Equations” was written in 1954 by Tom Godwin for editor John W. Campbell and published in Astounding. Some, including writers Kurt Busiek and Lawrence Watt-Evans, have stated that the story was largely borrowed from an EC Comics short story by Al Feldstein with art by Wally Wood, “A Weighty Decision,” itself perhaps copied from an E.C. Tubb story (“Precedent”). At any rate, Godwin’s tale is well-known, having been adapted for the screen and frequently anthologised; I read it in The Road to Science Fiction 3: From Heinlein to Here.

A man, Barton, piloting a small spaceship carrying medicine to an isolated colony, discovers an eighteen-year-old stowaway, Marilyn, who wanted to see her brother on the colony world. But Marilyn, from Earth, doesn’t understand the way things work out on the frontier of space: the ship had exactly as much fuel as it needed to get to the planet — before Marilyn’s unexpected weight was added. With Marilyn, it won’t be able to land safely. For the people on the colony world to live, she has to be ejected from the ship. Barton frantically tries to find some way out, some way to keep her alive, but cannot; and so, willingly, she goes into the airlock, and dies out in the void of space. Physics and mass and momentum cannot be argued with, the story tells us; the cold equations must balance.

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The Horror: Oz Meets the Scarecrow

The Horror: Oz Meets the Scarecrow

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dark harvestAs Stephen King once observed, horror has a short shelf life. What scares us today will lose its impact tomorrow. The shock of the new will wear off, the fear of the unknown dispelled by our having come to know it.

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein may be a literary classic, and it is still required reading in high school and college classes the world over. But when was the last time anyone was actually scared by Frankenstein’s Monster, I wonder? Or by Dracula, or any of the other classic monsters that now grace the sides of cereal boxes?

Familiar, tried-and-true monsters suffer from overexposure just as surely as vampires exposed to too much sunlight. After the umpteenth new Hollywood film, movie of the week, and YA book series, they “jump the shark,” so to speak. They lose their ability to produce chills and instead become the butt of parody or — worse — a love interest.

Until, that is, they come creeping back in an altered guise, rendered frightening and unfamiliar again by the latest horror maverick. Oh, they keep coming back, these perennial terrors. After all, there is a reason they are iconic: they have so aptly embodied so many human fears throughout the ages. We will likely be spooked — genuinely frightened — by a vampire again, hard as that is to imagine now, somewhere down the road.

In this macabre dance, venerable monsters take turns in the blacklight; their popularity waxes and wanes and waxes again, like the cycles of the moon.

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Low Adventure: Clasp-knives and Fortunetelling in Carmen

Low Adventure: Clasp-knives and Fortunetelling in Carmen

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Prosper Mérimée Carmen-smallWhy does it have to be the days of “high adventure?”

Low adventure can be extraordinarily riveting, as I recently found when I revisited Prosper Mérimée’s Carmen, the novella that inspired the Bizet opera. I’d read it once before, after seeing the (definitive, to my taste) Rosi film of the opera in the early 80s. Thanks to that film, I was so enchanted with the light and color of Andalusia that on my first trip to Europe I spent the better part of it there, on the coasts, in the alleys of Gibraltar, and especially in the stony mountains of Spain’s Sierra Nevadas. Thanks to a stay at an Andalusian cortijo (estate-farm) I was able to see some of the more remote areas on horseback, dragging a dutiful, saddlesore (need I say “ex”?) girlfriend behind who would have much rather been sunning on the beaches of Marbella or examining the wonders of the Alhambra.

Spain is a country of regions. The differences you might notice between northern Italians and southern are trebled in the expanses of Spain, divided as it is by mountains and joined by indirect routes reaching back into the dust of antiquity. There’s something of Robert E. Howard’s Zamora in Andalusia. Rome, the Caliphate, Catholicism, and for the history-minded traveller with a good guidebook, traces of the Phoenicians, Carthaginians, and Napoleon can still be found. Each province has its flavor, industrious Bilbao, pretentiously bustling Madrid, historic Toledo, artistic Barcelona, leaving a distinct impression. The Andalusians are famous for just living life. Every meeting is an excuse for a party, every parting as one between old friends. Visiting Spain revised my personal definitions of “courtesy” and “hospitality.”

I see I’ve imitated Mérimée in framing these notes, elaborating the circumstances of my acquaintance with Carmen and Don Jose and the search into their origins. So enough about me.

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Understanding Howard’s “The Tower of the Elephant”

Understanding Howard’s “The Tower of the Elephant”

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The Tower of the Elephant-smal

“This is just like Dungeons and Dragons, Daddy.”

It’s New Year’s Eve, 2012. Gamer Dad and I are having a fine old time, drinking beer and wallowing in geek culture, while our families are hanging out to see in 2013 together. We’ve played Red Box D&D in the afternoon with our boys – 7 & 9. Now, it’s storytime for the boys and, going with the theme, he and I are taking it in turns to read Robert E. Howard’s The Tower of the Elephant.

Both Dads jump in.

“No –” I begin. “Dungeons and Dragons –”

“– is like Conan!” completes Gamer Dad.

But the lad has a point. Here’s one of the more iconic Conan yarns and yet, on the face of it, it’s an episodic heist story; pretty much what you’d get if you wrote up a D&D session…

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What is the Practical Benefit of Science Fiction and Fantasy?

What is the Practical Benefit of Science Fiction and Fantasy?

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photo-3[The transcript that follows is of a voice memo recorded on an iPhone during my commute to work.]

So the local police cruisers in the town where I live recently got a new paint job to make them look like Transformers.

Well, mostly they just look like police SUVs, but on the hood of two is the large silver decal of an Autobot; the third sports a red Decepticon logo. These are quite striking against the black paint.

The first time I saw the Decepticon Dodge Durango squad car, I did a double take just to confirm that it was an actual police vehicle and not some private party’s clever paint job. My first conjecture was that it was the vehicle they use in the D.A.R.E. program, the one they drive when they go to schools in the area, and that they must’ve calculated it would be more cool to the kids.

[Subsequent to my recording these thoughts, I did talk to one of the local police officers. He confirmed that it was done largely to get local youth talking, to help with public relations in providing a bridge to younger residents. He added that many of the people in town over forty have no idea what they are. That may be skewing the demographic for recognition a tad young — I just turned forty-one and I knew what that robot face was right away. The Transformers toys exploded in the early ‘80s, just at the tail end of my toy-playing days. I suspect some older people also recognize the logos either from having been parents of Transformers fanatics or from having seen the recent Hollywood films. This is a rural farm community, though, so I’ve no doubt that many older locals would have no clue what this robot face on the police cruisers is all about.]

One upshot of this is the possibility that in my town you can be pulled over and ticketed by an Autobot (or a Decepticon). Indeed, just prior to beginning this voice memo, I saw that black SUV with the big red Decepticon face coming toward me in the northbound lane and I eased down on the gas a little as I passed him. Not that I was really speeding; I had it on cruise, but I tend to set my cruise control at two-three miles over the speed limit.

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Why I Write Fantasy

Why I Write Fantasy

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Shadow's Master Jon Sprunk-smallI’ve been doing book signings for the last few years, at bookstores and conventions. Most people you meet are very nice. Few actually buy one of your books, but they usually enjoy chatting with the author. Some are writers themselves, looking for a scrap of insight into the industry. But every so often I am asked a variant of this question:

“So why don’t you write books about real stuff?”

I’m sure these folks don’t mean to be rude. They don’t mean to insult my entire career and imply that the genre I’ve loved all my life, a genre which I personally believe has produced some of the most beautiful works of art in human history, is only suitable for children.

Of course, all fiction is “not real” in a sense, and fantasy is perhaps the genre which can seem the farthest from true life. As such, it is sometimes viewed from the outside as a literary ghetto: a kingdom of nerds, geeks, and perpetual adolescents who spend too much time at Renaissance Faires and roleplaying-game conventions. The stereotypes come fast and furious when talking about fantasy fandom.

It’s interesting how some people will accept a story about an alien from another planet who comes to Earth as an infant with superhuman powers and grows up to become humanity’s guardian. Yet, a story about a dragon (essentially a fire-breathing, sometimes-winged dinosaur) is a bridge too far for them. I feel bad for them.

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