THE LAST POST OF HE, by Edward Bulwer-Lytton.
Sunday morning of the 2001 Nebula Weekend.
I'm going away from the board. This will be, it is my intention (but one should never state absolutes in a random universe, because one cannot--nor should not--try to set the future in stone), my final posting. Part of it, the going-away, I can explain; part I choose not to explicate, save to assure you there is nothing troublesome, disheartening, dangerous, onerous or otherwise negative about it. Nobody here, and nothing said previously or currently, has ticked me off or saddened me or in any way produced this decision. This has been an absolutely dear experience for me...and I hope, for the most part, for you. But a request has been tendered that I choose to honor. I know, I know, I'm being purposely obfuscatory and possibly (though I hope not) unfair. For those of you seeking sources, exclude Susan; she had nothing to do with it. I know this will start some sort of search-&-destroy activity on the part of those of you who think this is infamous, and you'll go looking for an Evil Eminence who brought this about. There ain't one. Fu Manchu and Dr. Doom had no manipulation here.
Let me assure you...and since I try never to lie to you guys, I hope you'll take me at my word...there's nothing either dark or malevolent about my leavetaking. But there IS a consideration here that I never considered and, despite Barney's supposition that this may, indeed, be a cusp, affording me instant access to a dear and intelligent coterie of smart cookies who seem to have genuine affection for me, this other consideration overrides.
So I'll just respond to the last few postings, and then take my leave. With considerable affection and gratitude to all of you who've permitted me to come sit around the campfire for a month or two. It has been, in the word of Edd "Kookie" Burns from 77 Sunset Strip, "ginchy."
Rob: I'll give you a phone call and we'll discuss Bunuel and other things, as soon as I get out from under the workload, primarily the treatment for the film of DEMON WITH A GLASS HAND. The impending WGAw strike also limits my free time for social congress. Bear with me.
Justin: hullee geez, kid, I was NOT suggesting that you were a Jew passing as a Gentile. Ohmigawd no! I was being jocular, elfish, parodisic. I posited you were Jewish because of the correct, in context, uses of "shtumie" and "tchotchkes," both of which are slightly more, only slightly, more arcane than the commonly-used "schmuck" or "schmootz," which snippets of Yinglish have passed into Gentile useage as smooothly as those substitute pieces of goyishe crap they misnomer as bagels.
Your abyss leap that I was suggesting you were "passing" horrified me. Y'all are correct: the possibilities for misstating or misreading on these boards is cataclysmic.
Justin, please forgive. Oh boy.
The posting by Matthew Davis of the UK, in re Marcel Proust, is as informed, lucid and inviting a precis of the man, and what is compelling in his oeuvre, as anything I've ever read on the subject. And I can't recall who was querying as to the value of reading Proust--it may have been Rob--but your answer lies fully exposed in Matthew's exegesis.
I wish I could say something pithy and classy about Hesse, but beyond MAGISTER LUDI, STEPPENWOLF, and two books of his essays, I'm afraid I'm a novice when it comes to Hesse. That is to say, I'm conversant--the way someone on Jeopardy might be superficially able to discuss Hesse at a cocktail party with goons pretending to greater sophistication than they actually possess--but not smart enough or steeped enough to proffer anything either pithy or useful among a cadre of genuinely sharp cookies like y'all. So I'll take a pass on this one.
Do I REMEMBER the short-lived PHANTOM 2040 animated series???!!!??? Sunny Jim, I did a VOICEOVER on one of the segments!!!!!
As for THE PHANTOM movie, it is terrific. So, poetically put:
SCREW
YOU
XANA
DU
Both Susan and I adore it, we have it on VHS, and we watch it whenever it shows up on the tube. Apart from Catherine Zeta-Jones being more breathtakingly exquisite in the movie than she is now, it was utterly faithful to the strip, Billy Zane could not have been more perfectly cast as The Ghost Who Walks, and if it had the usual plot-glitches that emanate from tranliteration of a surreal comic universe to a mimetic configuration, well, one shrugs and pays that price of suspension of disbelief. Hell, I like the film so much, I've actually got--here in Ellison Wonderland--the emerald skull used in the finale.
The Shadow movie is more problematic. I wrote a review that trashed it, when it came out; but a year or so later, on a Virgin Airlines flight back from the UK, unable to sleep on that long flight, running through every available film on a Kotex-Box-sized tv screen, a slave unit attached to my seat, while Susan snored aside me, I watched the film again...because there wasn't anything else I hadn't seen...and I'll be damned if it didn't work like gangbusters on that itty-bitty liquid crystal screen! I don't mean it was passable, or that I didn't have to flee to the smallest chamber on the plane and deposit stew in the stainless steel...what I'm saying is that it was sensational. Held my interest, presented its gaffes and plot flaws boldly, provided me with more memorable moments than that nifty one of The Shadow reifying atop the staircase in the Hotel Monolith, gave me Peter Boyle as the perfect Moe Shrevnitz, that young lady with the three names which is something like Pamela Sue Somethingorother (actually, Susan tells me her name is Penelope Ann Miller, which may be correct) as a really interesting Margo Lane, and Alec Baldwin as Lamont Cranston, and I'll tell you this, gang, if I were doing the casting, I'd have to search deep and far and wide and endlessly to find ANYONE better for that role. I think he was superlative.
All of this, in direct contravention of what I said in print. And it was at that stage of my reviewing for F&SF that I opted out of doing "Harlan Ellison's Watching," or I promise you that the very next column would have been in praise of that movie.
Yes, it is seriously flawed in terms of its internal logic and internal plot consistency, but the great John Lone as Shiwan Khan, and all that elegant stagecraft, beautiful SFX (don't tell me that the clearing of the mind-beclouding mists, to reveal both the Tulku's temple at the beginning of the film, and the supposedly-razed Hotel Monolith near the denouement of the film, isn't magical, impressive and something you never saw before), fidelity to the original canon, and essential goodheartedness of the movie commends it to the attention of anyone who retains the heart of a child who reveled and adored and lived for The Shadow when s/he was a kid. I enter these encomia late in the game, too late to do the movie any good commercially, but if it gets even one of you either to view it for the first time, or revisit it with fresh eyes, well, I'll feel my guilt at judging too quickly, too harshly, has been mitigated slightly.
Sheryl. Honest, hon, no chastening should have been done by me. I was excessive. My passions ofttimes bludgeon my sense of civility. You are ABSOLUTELY entitled to find Hemingway a pain in the tush. Hell, I can't read Hawthorne without screaming GET ON WITH IT YOU OBVIOUS LONG-WINDED PECKSNIFF! If it is that Hemingway rankles you because he has been thrust down your throat in the Academy, I suggest it could be worse. Fanny Hurst is still being read, you know. The pathetic attempts of English Depts. to wrench themselves out of the Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Bronte Sisters period, to "get modern," is so spavined and incoherent, that they continue to think Hemingway is ultramodern and daring. For them, there is no value in genre writing, the mystery begins and ends with Hammett and Chandler, they've chosen to forget James M. Cain and Jim Thompson, and they never have discoved Westlake. So, the poor purblind creatures try to be "daring" by using the only "acceptable" of the "modern" writers, and you get Hemingway as boringly, as clumsily, as annoyingly as I got George Eliot. (Thank heavens I discovered Hardy on my own, and fell in love with him, because if I'd been clubbed over the head by RETURN OF THE NATIVE in high school, as I was, without having had my life changed by the epiphany of his THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE--one of the most meaningful books in my life, that gave me an insight that has proven correct and useful for more than sixty years--I'd have loathed the wonderful Hardy as much as the detestable George Eliot, and yes, I know Eliot was a pseudonym for a woman, so make of that what you will.)
No need for you to immerse yourself in Hemingway just to reasure yourself that you aren't as wise as you posit me to be. I tell you right now, kiddo, you ARE wiser than I. Better read, better equipped to comment, in every demonstrable way I can conjure...wiser than I. We merely diverge on opinions, likes'n'dislikes. Friends do that, and Mensa qualifications don't count. (Trust me, Sheryl, I've lectured to Mensa: such qualifications do NOT count.) So, please, if you want to go back and savor the lovelies of THE GREEN HILLS OF AFRICA or some of the exquisitely-crafted short stories, be my guest. But above all, as I do, read Hemingway for pleasure. Sans pleasure, you might as well be trudging through Bunyan or Lew Wallace.
Oh, I guess I never mentioned this. The reason I suggested you snare Ed Bryant and drag him into your warm and loving web, is that Ed and I are long-time pals, I'm a great admirer of his writing (which is of the highest caliber), he is a cogent and relentless instructor of how to write well, and he was one of my first ultra-successful Clarion students. He visits with Susan and me at least once, often twice, a year...and I can't think of anyone whose opinions on the value and shape of writing workshops would be more salient. I hope he joins you here. If he does, tell him I love him.
And so, having responded to just about everything I can think of to date, I'll be leaving you. Never fear that I'll continue on a daily basis to come back here and lurkingly visit with you, like The Shadow, because I've come to have an enormous affection for this chat-group. I Hope you stay together, grow in number of like-minded and like-civilized friends, and batten on the astonishing social quality of the little community you, and Rick, have created.
With affection, so long. Yr. pal, Harlan.
Sorry about the double posting.
First off, I like "The Shadow." So sue me; I thought it was funny. Great movie? No. Fun movie? Yes.
"That is a wonderful tie!"
Xanadu -
Actually, my iMac is running on 320 RAM right now (my wife uses Quark XPress and Photoshop a lot for graphic design), so that thankfully is not an issue.
First off, I like "The Shadow." So sue me; I thought it was funny. Great movie? No. Fun movie? Yes.
"That is a wonderful tie!"
Xanadu -
Actually, my iMac is running on 320 RAM right now (my wife uses Quark XPress and Photoshop a lot for graphic design), so that thankfully is not an issue.
Hello board!
Bearing in mind that my knowledge of pulp is passing at best, I'd have to say my favorite film of that genre is "Big Trouble in Little China". Action, dames, magic, a hero who's larger-than-life (or at least trying to be), and yet another source of memorable catchphrases:
"What is that stuff?"
"Black blood of the Earth"
"You mean oil?"
"No! I mean black blood of the Earth!"
One person's "cheap slam" is another person's "earnest warning".
Harlan - I recently read "Paingod and Other Delusions". Thank you for writing it. The subject of finding and living your dream job was nicely touched on in "Deeper Than the Darkness".
In the immortal works of Kraftwerk: "BOING boing, boom CHOCK chock chock, BOING boing, boom CHOCK, BING!"
Mitch
*** Doug *** Yes, I can see you in a sort of Marlowe/Sam Spade career. Not only do you own the coat but the temptation [in others] to induce blunt force trauma upon you by hitting you in the head with a sap every couple of days makes you the perfect person for that job. Do you get the girl? Sure, but she's dead or a heroin addict, or sleeping with her dad so it kinda sucks for you...
Hey, I'm back. Didja missme? Back when this stuff was done on paper they called it GAFIA (getting away from it all) but with the advent of electrathingamajigification [I get 1st citation in the OED so screw you ghost of Thomas Carlyle!] - you can't take a break or people who will remain nameless will think you have died or are at the very least are planning a fitting revenge. Alas, I am neither. Today it's the in-laws 50th anniversary and then I drive across state lines to attend a 2nd birthday and christening which is a mixed bag of fun all the way around and has put me in a tralfamadorian sort of mood.
***Re: His presence*** I must say as a primary booster here at this site it actually sort of threw me. Standing here with my Harlan helium ballons and elephant pooper-scooper it's really freekin' weird when the CIRCUS Actually Comes To Town. Since I have OZ on the brain right now I keep thinking of the man behind the curtain. But then I realize that's one of the best parts of the story because that's when everybody gets to be just folks and all the bullshit terror and idolatry gets the big send off. It is appropriate and well met. I got well met from Harlan's "Greystoke" review. He can have it back now.
Like Phil Merkel and the rest I am totally jazzed that he's stopping by and I will now proceed to stop thinking about this to damned much. Ooops, one final thought. I don't know how Harlan feels about this but I see this as another one of those on the cusp moments of his life. The same way he was at one of the last conventions Hugo Gernsback attended, the same way he got in at the last moment that Pulps wrere a going concern, he has wandered into the first time and place where, if an artist chooses to, he can have instant and inexpensive access to a cross section of his core audience. This is a NEW thing. It's got me thinking about what Twain or Voltaire or Dosteyevsky would have done with this. Screw free story ideas - I think I may have just created a sub-genre. Oh well.
*** Writers workshops*** Next post.
*** On the Front with Pappa *** What Harlan said. Right down the line. Adding to that, Malzberg once told me something about Hemingway which kind of nailed the status of Hemingway for me. I mention Malzberg 'cause you should all run out and find his stuff and because Harlan respects M much more than me, as well he should. The Argument was - "It doesn't matter if you like Hemingway or hate Hemingway or if you never read Hemingway. After Hemingway you are either writing like him or NOT writing like him. It's worse than influence. It's like a geographic location that you are either walking towards or away from. There is no beating it and there is no getting away from it.". Then we talked about what a really bad idea it was to read 7 different biographies in a row where you always end up in Idaho with a shotgun in your mouth. As Victor Buono used to say, "That is the sort of thing that could crimp ones day if one does not filter it through the gauze of mirth!".
*** Speaking of stand up tragedians*** I was saddened to hear that Brother Teddy had passed on. I was glad I dodged having to give Harlan that informational bullet and will consider myself a lucky man if I never once have to make one of those goddamned calls. Onward.
I couldn't help but think what he must have been like as a young man. Hell Harlan, the first time you saw him he was probably about 50. When he was in his twenties huge fucking arcs of electricity must have shot out of the top of his head like some sort of ambulatory Tesla device. I dont know if Susan should be encouraged or terrified. He hit 94 without the advantage of the pampered existence ;-) you have enjoyed. You and Teddy are clearly of the same genotype right down to the huge shock of hair. You'll be kicking cripples and bad spellers for years. Years!! YEEEAARRRRSSS!!!
Picture the arc of spittle.
*** Colloquilisms *** Oh man. Nothing so abstract as "Woof Woof, a goldfish". I sure use kiddo a lot thanks to you. It's effective to the point of genius. Also, "Up to my Muffins", which, for those lucky people who do not have a basement full of Ellison crap, could have been a letterhead of Harlan's back in the day.
I've always been fond of "Bullocks!" which is hardly a colloquilism. Ummm - mostly it's stuff like "you're so full of shit it's a wonder your eyes are still blue!" and "Why don't you go take a long walk off of a short pier, eh?" which works much better in the great lakes regions where I am from than, say, Kansas. Gaimans newly found "worse than being fucked up the ass sideways with a canoe" is, I'm pretty sure a midwesternism which has migrated down the Mississipi but which definitly has trapper/Canuck music to it.
***Eyeing the HOOK - stage left *** The Women are using hair dryers and my daughter has turned my bathroom shower into a setpiece from Dexter's lab, which is my cue shave and put some real clothes on.
Do I get the job?
Harlan re The Phantom, I’ll have a look around and see what I can come up with.
John and company, I’ve never seen the movie version of The Phantom, but they did run The Phantom:2040 here a few years ago. Seem to remember watching a bit of it, and thinking it wasn’t to bad.
On The Shadow, can anyone remember the black and white series that used to run at the Cinema? I saw this about 1974 at kids Saturday matinee’s, when before the main feature they would run “The Shadow”. Each one didn’t run for very long, but my child memory enjoyed them.
Sheryl, tell your nephew his joke is very good. I am honoured to have the same sense as humour as a 4 year old.
Until next time
Kerry
Joseph J. Finn - Greetings. I'm Finder's co-conspirator in most things cinematic and I agree with him - FCP will astound and amaze you, once you get to know it - it's a VERY powerful tool, indeed. But, with version 2.0, the requirements get quite hefty in the RAM department. I'm running with an original iMac DV SE - 400Mhz G3 / 128 Meg RAM - and my system is buckling under the load. At minimum you should have 256 Meg - more would be nicer. If you don't have this, you need to factor in the additional cost of a memory upgrade for your DV+.
Apologies to the rest of you - this was a bit a an off-topic post.
John - The Phantom was, for me, almost completely forgettable. I remember so little of it that I have no real, lasting opinion of it. Sorry.
The Shadow, on the other hand, was a wretched abomination with just one spectacular visual moment - The Shadow with his billowing cape on the stairs... that was it. Except for that 10 second moment, it is 100+ minutes of my life wasted, AND 100+ minutes that I wasted in the lives of those I persuaded to come with me to the showing. It stands as a spectacular karmic stain on my soul, and I deeply resent the talent that was wasted on it.
But, in writing about it, I find I have wasted even more of my life on the wretched mess and I vow never again to sully my fingers with it. So I leave the assembled with a question/topic. What is your favorite "pulp genre" film? I offer "Buckaroo Banzai" as a possible candidate. It is more than a rip of the whole Doc Savage mythos, but the film has such a sense of fun. And it is a source for another favorite quote of mine - "It's not my planet, monkey boy!" What are your thoughts?
Harlan: Ow!. I am chastened and recondite. Stepping on toes was not my intention. Apologies to all around to any were offended are in order, and I proffer them sincerely.
Because it is you who has said I should, I will go and read "Big Two-Hearted River" again. I know exactly where it is, in my Teacher's Edition of the sophomore lit text on the shelf in the closet. I will look in the 3 dozen literature anthologies I have acquired and find more Ernie H., and I will read it, because you tell me it is valuable. Because you say it made you the Harlan Ellison that you are, I will read it, and I will try very, very hard to do it with an open mind. Because I think in some significant ways, you have shaped who I am (emphasis on the I) and your informed opinion carries weight.
And if I find that I can't read it with an open mind, I will read it anyway, like a good girl taking her medicine. Because medicine is good for you, even if you don't like the taste of it. Perhaps Hemingway is like insulin, and a certain amount if it is required, even if you have to take it artificially.
That all sounds flip, and I don't want it to, but I don't quite know how else to say it. I've got a long, long, history of trying to appreciate that particular body of work, and I just-don't. The macho thing, well, that's obviously there, but since I firmly believe that men should be men and not pseudo-women, I don't think that's it. Maybe it's having had him shoved down my throat by every teacher, professor, critic and department chair since I was 9 as the be-all-end-all of American literature that's done it. I'm never really one to just accept the givens. Maybe it's that I read very, very fast, and his sentence structure read as choppy to me that it irritates me beyond reason. I really don't know. But I will go try again. Because I one thing I DO know of a surety is that you are wiser than I am, and I try to listen to those who are wiser. I don't always succeed, but I try. So I will get out the books.
If you are right, (and you may very well be, it's possible I've learned something since I last visited those stories and I will like them better now) I will say so and give you all the credit for fixing the hole in my perception. I will go buy a dozen of his books and read them all in a week, every week for a month.
But if after I read everything I already own, my stomach is roiling like it was the last time, can I leave him to you?
Sam: I like to listen to the harpsichord; but…naw, I thought it over and it still doesn't seem right. Maybe I need to hold on to the lost thing. Don't know why I think that, but it's what I thought, so there it is. I'll have to think about it more. If I figure it out, maybe I'll let you know.
As for my e-mail, my brother and sister say I am, my grandmother and my best friend agree; so don't be fooled. I have a perfectly amenable social façade most of the time, but down at the bottom, where we all really live and have to acknowledge who we are, at least to ourselves-I am honestly a vicious bitch. However, despite my usually up-front warnings, nobody ever seems to be willing to believe it until they get nailed. So maybe all those years of acting class were worth the money after all. I think if you asked the people who were in on the last 'gun battle' though, they'd tell you how bitchy and unreasonable I can be!
The comments on the Phantom makes me wonder if anyone remembers a show called "Phantom: 2040." (I may have the title wrong.) Basically, it was the Phantom in the 21st Century. The stories, in my opinion, were much better than your run-of-the-mill Saturday morning cartoons. And the idiosyncratic way the characters were drawn reminded me of an alternative comic book come to life.
And as long as we're on the subject, did anyone here like the movie version of the Phantom? Even though it came and went in a fortnight, I thought it was pretty damn entertaining and captured some of the magic of the original comic strip.
He returns, having gotten into a staring contest with a mountain lion, trailing weeds and gobs of mud on the soles of his boots (not to mention the sole of his soul): Wow! Look at all these posts! It's going to take a few minutes to work my way through all of them, each precious and valued in their own way.
My two cents, if I may, on the matter of writing workshops (before the big boys arrive to pass judgement): There are writing workshops and there are writing workshops. There are writing workshops the likes of which Harlan Ellison does and there are writing workshops, the likes of which Harlan Ellison does NOT do. It comes down to two things: The leader of the workshop (I decline to use the terms 'teacher' or 'leader' in this context because they just don't work) and the student. If one does not do the best they can within the workshop, what's the point? You can pay five hundred dollars or more to attend a workshop overseen by the greatest scribe the world has ever known, but if YOU don't do what YOU should do, well, YOU are a very big schmuck.
My two cents.
Until next time. . .
Everyone: I have just received a bit of correspondence from Andrew Burt. Mr. Burt runs www.critters.org, a large Internet based writing workshop which has apparently helped quite a few people get published. Mr. Burt has regular workshop meetings with Ed Bryant, the author and workshop instructor Harlan mentioned earlier.
In his letter, Mr. Burt stated his intention to stop by the bulletin board himself, and that he would also pass along to Mr. Bryant my invitation to share his insights with us on this board.
Just a heads up, everyone. If you have any questions about writing programs, now might be the time to post them.
I would just love to come up with a whole slew of incredibly articulate and pertinent questions, but unfortunately I have finals I must go study for. At the moment I'll just say that I am intensely curious to see what the professionals have to say about the overall value of writing programs. I am specifically interested in the quality of writing programs at the University of Arizona (U.S. News allegedly ranked their creative writing program as one of the ten best in the country at one point, but I have been unable to verify this).
More later, and thanks in advance to Mr. Burt and Mr. Bryant!
Justin, who wishes finals were done with and that the University of Arizona would hurry up and finish processing his damn application already!
Harlan, your point about the difference between a "story" and a "reminiscence" is taken. Consider me well and truly straightened out.
HOWEVER, just to fulfill my duties as a notoriously contentious wiseass, here's one definition of the word "story," from the Merriam Webster Collegiate dictionary:
2 a : an account of incidents or events
Is this incorrect? Now, I'm not one to quibble with an author about what he or she chooses to call his or her work. The piece I mentioned in my previous post was a "reminiscence," not a "story." I gotcha. Even so, according to Merriam Webster, I wasn't COMPLETELY misusing the word.
You just let me know if I need to place a reproachful call to Merriam Webster. I'll do it, too.
It is true that I may be rationalizing, but my respect for language goes just far enough that were I forced to admit to myself that I had completely misused a word, I would have no choice but to fall upon my sword. You understand. Regardless, I do trust you a lot more than I trust old Merriam, and in the future I will stick strictly to the definitions you have provided me with, honest.
To switch tracks for a moment: I won't take up valuable board space on this subject again, but honestly--unless my parents aren't telling me something--to the best of my knowledge I am not, as you have suggested, a "member of the tribe," dear fellow. If you have somehow gleaned information about me from my posts that even I am not aware of, then I am duly impressed, but I don't think that's very likely. I must admit that I'm a bit saddened by the thought that you may have had previous experience with others who dodged the distinction "Jewish," as though it were somehow something to hide from or be ashamed of, but I assure you I am not doing that.
Back talking to his literary heroes one by one,
J
Rob - A good “in” for Proust is the short story “Sylvie” by Gerard de Nerval. It was published in 1854 and was a _massive_ influence on “In Search of Lost Time”. In many ways it’s Proust’s novel in miniature - themes, structure and conclusion. And its only about 40 pages long.
You say you like “narrative rhythm but like to get to the point” - the great point in Proust -_is_ the rhythm of Proust’s voice; how this shabby, self-pitying, trivial, snobbish valetudinarian finds a transcendence through art. Much of the writing _is_ beautiful, accompanied by incredible insights about human nature - often the worse sides. The end of the novel is when the narrator reaches a stage late in his life and realises that he now has sufficient understanding of his life to be able to write about it - what Roger Shattuck describes as Proust’s binoculars: the novel is written describing the accurate emotions and observations of the narrator at the time of the events but also at the same time taking in the perspective of the older narrator. There is plot, but it’s the plot of a lifetime where the casual remark finds heart-breaking significance twenty years, where the prospective heroes fail to make their mark and the unworthy climb to the top. Think George Eliot abetted by John Ruskin and the Grosmiths (Diary of a Nobody). Have you read “Book of the New Sun” by Gene Wolfe? It’s the same attention to microscopic detail abetting an immense life-long story arc. Although Wolfe’s sentences are much, much, much shorter - sometimes Proust tries to achieve the effect of the whole novel in two and a half page-long sentences.
Mr Ellison spoke of how some people don’t get Hemingway because he is too “macho”; for many Proust is too “feminine” - his persnickitiness, the appalling attention to detail, and in the twenty-first century we’re all egalitarians and nobody wants to know about the lives of an elite, although every new writer is proclaimed for his attention to some new corner of lower-class depravation and inequity, whose realism is “dirtier” than the last. In his own way Proust is hard and gritty. Proust _is_ a snob but he knows he’s a snob and he satirises himself, his snobbery and that of his society. If you love Nabakov, if you like John Updike then you’ll find much to approve in Proust.
Harlan -
I apologize if my comments on Henmingway were, or seemed to be, arrogant. I reread my original comments and find that I may well have not put forward my original point correctly. In other words, I fucked up royally.
Now, I may have a personal dislike of the works of Hemingway (though I will certainly concede the worth of his body of work). What I mainly object to is the worship of his work in United States high schools to the detriment of considering other, equally worthy authors.
Looking back at my comments, it's clear that I let my personal passions about Hemingway's writing cloud what I was trying to get across in my critique of the "literary establishment." I was merely trying to say that I would gladly see the teaching of Hemingway scaled back to make room for authors who should not be slighted. Unfortunately, I got carried away.
However, I will still choose to respectfully disagree on Hemingway's writing. Should his writing be taught? Of course. Do I like it? No.
Interestingly, I greatly prefer an author who reminds me of Hemingway and of yourself, Mr. Ellison, and the one deceased author that it grieves me the most that I will never meet: Raymond Carver. An author of uncommon skill who fulfilled the same function for me that Hemingway did for you - a chronicler of existence. Granted, Carver's was a smaller and in some ways more desperate existence (though in some ways less), but there's a hint of the same light you can see in Hemingway's work, peeking around the corners. Thankfully, Mr. Carver's work is starting to show up in high schools, from what I've seen.
In conclusion, I'll take my lumps for having misstated myself in my original post. I hope this works as an abashed clarification.
Regards,
Joseph J. Finn
To Harlan:
Hey! Hey! Hey! I caught that "chop-busting" accusation in your engrossing reply to Sheryl and it felt like a hot andiron on my butt. N'I havta contest it. I wuz NOT chop-busting you, I was trowling for a better understanding about your angle on the subject of the artist v. the "mere craftsmen" among the directors. OK, so some effort at proselytizing was thrown in...hmmm. Maybe I did toss one poke in the chops at that. I'm a pugilistic debater, whatya want?
N' what happened to Bunuel? You never talked about him after losing your original reply, and that business call cut in before we could discuss the man (I think your first priority was to make certain I wasn't one of these lunatics determined to coerce you into agenting my manuscripts. I'm joking). I was quite curious about your take on his work.
Now a topic shift: What did you think of the subjective writers like Proust? Though I feel I owe him another effort at some point, I tried reading Proust just before finishing high school and with all the removal of the attributes of motive and external action I have to say I really suffered. When I read, though I savor narrative rhythm, I do like to get to the point. The point in Swann's Way seemed like it was going to require a loooooooooooooooooong journey. And it wasn't even evoking anything for me. Now, by contrast, I recall a class I once took in which we were to read Melville. We read the brilliant short story 'Bartleby' and I was the ONLY one in the class (I couldn't believe it) who went totally nuts about it. Because so many readers today (er, of those in this country who DO read)are now used to a more succinct style of prose often spackled with modern slang they whine when they have to climb through the long descriptions, metaphors and complex passages of pre-20th century authors. I actually had to tell the class to think of the story as a Twilight Zone episode (which it could've been)and they started to think about it more. Yet, inside I felt I never should have had to say it. But I don't close my mind like those students did and I'd like to give Proust another shot one day because I know Remembrance of Things Past was an important landmark.
Moving forward, I recently discovered Bud Schulberg in 'What Makes Sammy Run'(and read in his forward how John Wayne bullied him for being a "commie"). The novel held a monopoly on my attention for a day that I almost took off work.
And jumping to a much different writer, a very close friend from long ago seemed hung up on Hermann Hess, an author I never explored. What has your take been on him?
HE, P.S.:
Two small things I've been meaning to get to.
1. Kerry from NSW: one of my passions is the comic strip The Phantom. As you know, though its popularity is in the past, here in the Fickle States of Amnesia, it continues apace in Oz. When I was down there, the last couple of visits, one of my great joys was obtaining T-shirts with The Phantom on them. They are fairly common, I discovered; with lots of different designs. And though I have at least half a dozen, if you happen to chance across any--size Large--I'd be most grateful (and would reimburse all costs) if you'd pick up a couple, three, four. If it isn't too great an imposition. That is to say, don't make a special trip to back of beyond, but if you're afoot in a mall, and you pass a T-shirt emporium, and you chance to glance in and see The Ghost Who Walks on a T-shirt, well, I'll make it worth yer while, mate.
2. Tim Richmond. If you're lurking hereabouts, I've been trying to call, but you've got the machine off. Talked to Barney, and he sort of filled me in about Mike and otherstuff. So I know you're semi-incommunicado. But if you care to, give Susan and me a call. Nothing urgent, just keeping tabs on friends.
Yr. pal, Harlan.
This message board is starting to tick tick bang. I am quite impressed by the output of such thoughtful people. Harlan does seem to have softened over the years, but I do think that it is for the best. You cannot piss off everyone and expect the love of the ages to wax for eternal. Harlan, welcome into the fray. I miss you on Politically Incorrect. Is there a bug up Bill Mahar's ass? Or did you just feel like not going on the show anymore? Hope to see you there soon.
The fog has lifted for a bit, but the air here in Cincinnati is still thick with danger. Harlan, what is your opinion about this riot he had here recently? Black Americans seem as fucked as ever. The talk radio here would fry your ears. I don't like seeing innocent people beat up, or see buildings burnt, but the Black community has had enough. Maybe America is ready for a major blow up. I fear for tomorrow.
I would love to see another essay book from Harly. I am shocked that publications don't scout your views out. You have the humor of a Christopher Hitchens. There is an old Vanity Fair article by him about airport security that is priceless. Funny shit. Let's all beg nicely for a new essay tome soon.
Harlan, one last thing: what is your views on Noam Chomsky? Do you read him? You do seem to have dropped out of political dissent as of late. I think Chomksy is one of our top intellectuals ever. What is your view?
Hopeing Ellison Wonderland keeps on pumping out the magic. A bow and a wave to the David Blaine of American letters.
Peace.
Oh, look! Like the sun, Harlan also rises:
Peter: As best I can tell, re your posting, re your observations about "rhythm" as the veneer that makes the storyline gleam, you are dead-on. Not full of shit by any discernible increment. It is also the hardest aspect of "teaching writing" to impart, because it is less a manifestation of craft than it is intuition. And if the tyro writer doesn't "hear the music," no amount of teaching will instill anything better than a simulacrum of rhythm, of beat, of soul if you will. Anyone who grasps the basic fundamentals of language, and who has read well elsewhere, can be taught the mechanics--sufficiently well, even, to become a professional writer--but that final increment, the one that produces Borges or Humphrey Cobb or Zoe Oldenbourg or Alfred Bester, as opposed to, say, Barbara Cartland or Michael Avallone or Peter Benchley or several dozen writers in the sf/fantasy category whose names I could list, but they're friends, some of them, and I'm already taking massive doses of vitamin C, and chicken soup, to get over a bad case of Bad Taste and Shooting Off My Big Mouth--that final increment is instinctual, something weirdly genetic, pardon my recourse to "magic." In short: right awn, Petuh.
Sheryl: I REALLY REALLY REALLY AND TRULY don't want to get into it with you, but as difficult and yawn-inducing and BORE-ing as I find Hawthorne entirely (and don't get me started on George Eliot, who almost had me off "literature" forever while I was in junior high school), your lumping into that hated cadre of Ernest Hemingway resonated badly with me. First of all, Hemingway needs no defense from me...or anyone. Any writer who can produce "Big Two-Hearted River," "The Snows of Kilimanjaro" (why do you think my corporation is called The Kilimanjaro Corporation?), "The Short, Happy Life of Francis Macomber," "The Killers" and a plethora of others, some of the best-constructed, most powerful short stories in the English language, needs no boost or encomia from the likes of me. But the committees that dispense the Nobel Prize for Literature are not always buffoons, and when they gave it to Hemingway, when he was at the height of his powers, there was no cavil from anywhere in the world, because they knew what they were doing. At his best, he was sui generis; seventy years later, all his lessons having been learned, integrated, emulated to the point of parody and beyond (the annual Harry's Bar proto-Hemingway fiction contest, f'rinstance), transmogrified and deconstructed for the greater enrichment and sinecureship of academics who must, of needs, rend the bumblebee to "discover" or "deconstruct" why, impossibly, this aerodynamically-impossible creature works...Hemingway may seem incomprehensible as an icon to, well, to you. Or others. I mean no offense, though I may be treading the line. If I slip and go over that line, be kind. I mean no offense.
But...oh, you're gonna bristle at this one, but I know of no other way to get at it...Hemingway resonates badly, I've found, for women. The apparent macho aspects of his work, the determined "guy" quality of what he says and what he's saying it about, and even HOW he says it, rankles a great many otherwise evenhanded women of intellect whose acquaintance I've made. It is as fingernails-on-the-blackboard for females as "chick flicks" are for a great many men. Including me. (While I can enjoy female-demographic-oriented films at the level of, say, "Sleepless in Seattle" or "When Harry Met Sally," I tend to develop paranoia of manipulation, as well as diabetes, from...
(Well, the list could be either alphabetical or chronological, but blessedly I can't remember the titles or minimalist plots of those few "chick flicks" Susan has required me to sit through, in the last few years, despite the sound of tooth grinding. So fill in your own titles here.)
It is not my intention to denigrate your opinion of Hemingway, no matter how wrongheaded I might personally feel it to be, but I suggest that it is as culturally amnesiac an opinion as is that of People of Color who condemn HUCKLEBERRY FINN for being racist, or GONE WITH THE WIND as a tract supportive of slavery. What parallel I draw, if you'll bear with me, is the precious interpreting of Hemingway in the singular light of contemporary attitudes. By the same token, of course James Fenimore Cooper and Thomas Hardy and Chaucer seem "dated," troublesome and irrelevent. They aren't, to be sure, despite the effectiveness of Sam Clemens's evisceration of Cooper (repaid, in kind, by Leslie Fiedler in his brilliant, scathing "Come Back to the Raft, Huck, Honey").
Literary likes and dislikes are akin to religious and political preferences. Also like Rob's endless chop-busting of me because I only think Scorsese is great and brilliant, not Olympian like Kurosawa or Fellini. If you like Dizzy, and I prefer Clifford Brown, the adoration of the one in no way diminishes the grandeur of the other. And one's animus or adoration of any given writer is always based anecdotally. You had such and such a bad or good experience, I had thus and so.
Nonetheless, Sheryl, if you feel I have any literary value at all, then you have to pay obeisance to Hemingway because, flat out, no equivocation, I would neither be a writer at all, nor the specific writer I am...today...were it not from having wallowed in Hemingway at that precisely most influential moment of my youth. At that most impressionable juncture.
I loved Dickens, I swore by Twain (who formed the basis of my theological and spiritual nature, or pragmatic version of same), I bled and cried at Steinbeck, and I reveled in Haggard and Dumas and Maupassant and Dostoevski. But I learned more, in one short story, from Hemingway, than I learned about HOW TO WRITE from all the rest of them.
You speak of him now, today, in year 2001...and he seems fustian, archaic, stilted, mannered, irrelevent TO YOU. Well, let me say, Sheryl, that in 1945-46-47-48, when I was not yet in my teens, and I was looking for literary role-models--and didn't even know I was looking--Hemingway was the peak of the big rock candy mountain (another great piece of literature, now almost totally forgotten, which you should look up, and I don't mean the Burl Ives song). He was glamorous, he was mythic, he was what every young writer wanted to be:
Daring, innovative, singularly-voiced, equipped with what he himself called (approximate quote) "a sure-fire bullshit detector," productive, hard-charging, indefatigable, honorable, feisty and just fucking plain garden variety good to read.
I learned more from Hemingway, about life and how to live it, than I ever did from anyone else, including my mother and father, the best teacher who ever taught me, any religious hustler proffering hosannahs and routes to heaven. I left home at age 13. Why the hell do you think I did that, Sheryl? My parents never beat me, I was never raped or used as child labor; yes, my situation as a kid may have been shitty in terms of where I lived in a period where Jews were widely accepted as dirty little Christ-killers, and yes, I may have had the crap kicked outta me day in and day out by the Jack Wheeldons of Painesville, Ohio...but I ran off to join the circus, to get road experience, because of what I'd read about what kind of life a writer should live. Jack Black, Jack London, Jim Tully, Mark Twain, Bret Harte...but most of all...towering over all of them...creating a hard-living superimposed pre-continuum for the young aspiring writer who wanted to take control of his life and his work, and by dominating his very existence, could become...hell...why fuck around with it...could become Harlan Ellison.
In the shadow, always, of Ernest Hemingway: Harlan forbetterorworse Ellison.
I learned, and ANYONE CAN LEARN, by reading Hemingway's best stuff, at the start of a career, more about how to turn experience into story, how to write tragedy without pity, how to live one's life and imbue one's fiction with honor; and how to live on the Road.
Joseph and Sheryl: NO, you're wrong, in my view. Your dismissive attitude re Hemingway (in which I perceive a tone of arrogance better suited to culturally ignorant teenagers who dismiss out of hand any music prior to Shania Twain than to smart cookies like you) does you no credit. I challenge you to read the brief passage in TO HAVE AND HAVE NOT in which the smuggler and gun-runner, Harry, who has had his forearm taken off by (I think) a loggerhead shark, many years before, leaving a smooth rounded stump, is in bed with a woman, and pleasures her by rubbing that silken stub between her legs...and not be moved positively and deeply by a bit of fiction that--when told in precis by me here--should, by all rights, seem at least mildly repellent. No one who could write that, or DEATH IN THE AFTERNOON--no matter how you feel about animal rights or the bestiality of the human soul that would encourage the corrida--is a writer whom you dare dismiss so cavalierly.
Geeeezus, hullee jeez. I had no idea all that was in there. What an impacted wisdom tooth!
Please forgive any intemperate remarks, Joseph, Sheryl. Oftimes my passion whips me past the point of civility, even to friends.
Explanation, but not an excuse; if I went too far, if my tone became contumelious.
Last responses (I'm a bit embarrassed).
Justin: "Valerie" is NOT, is NOT, is NOT NOT NOT a "story." You call it that twice. It is a true reminiscence. TRUE, in the sense that it actually happened. Not fiction: it is non-fiction. A real, true, retelling of a real, true thing that happened to me. Why do you think it is titled "Valerie: A True Memoir"? It is TRUE. The word "story" cannot be interchangeably used to describe an essay, an article, a column, a memoir, an exegesis, or a prologomena. A "story" is fiction, foma, an untruth. "Valerie" is true. Have I fuckin' made my point?
And you may convince others that you are a Gentile, Justin, but if you are passing as such, I urge you to flense such words as "shtumie" and "tchotchkes" from your casual comments, because goyim don't use those words, no matter HOW "yinglish" our everyday American language has become. I was right about the age and ethnicity of your Valerie and, deny it all you want, pass about among the Gentiles as a secret agent all you wish, Justin buhbulah, you don't fool me. And when the pogrom starts, don't for an instant think your WASP pose will spare you the "immersed in mayonnaise" fate of the rest of us.
And thus, I is caught up with y'all. And I go. Leaving only the saber-cut Z on your collective tuchisses. Yr. pal, out of the night when the pale moon is shining, Harlan.
Sheryl-
Would you hate me if you know my wife is a graphic designer for a educational publishing company? Believe me, she only gets a small glimmer of the whole morass of politics and moolah that is educational publishing, and it's quite enough for her.
Just for the heck of it, pick up the Tori Amos album "Boys For Pele," and you'll see what someone can do with a harpsichord that goes far beyond Mozart. Especially check out track 2, "Blood Roses." Great album for it's own sake as well.
Oh, and "October Sky" is a very good adaptation of "Rocket Boys." Great performances by the boys and by Laura Dern, and an unfairly-ignored-by-the-Academy performance by Chris Cooper (some of you might remember his as the next door father in "American Beauty"). One of the best films about the relationship between father and son, and the shifting of family politics, that I've seen. Of course, they're also shotting off rockets, so it's all good. And, for those like me who complain that they needlessly changed the title, do notice that October Sky is an anagram of Rocket Boys.
Justin -
Actually, the whole phrase is the one to be snickered (or sneered) at: "Richard Gere Movie."
Sheryl, my apologies. I'm sorry if I offended you. I've never been higher than average intelligence (which I'm fine with as long as I keep learning things on a regular basis) and logic doesn't come easily to me. I tend to think with my heart, and when I read your post all I could hear was e.e.cummings resounding in the corners of my mind, saying
when you cant die
you got to dream
and we aint got
nothing to dream
come on kid
let's go to sleep
Hmmm, speaking of poetry, I'm reminded of a time a few years back in AP English (taught, by the way, by Chris Dickerson, one of the best damn teachers I've ever had). I don't remember who I was or where I was bound, but I can remember having to memorize a poem and reciting it in front of the class ... so I bent the rules a little, called Harlan's "The Silence" a prose poem, and then presented it. I still get a sense of satisfaction fromt he uncomfortable stillness and lack of eye contact (I was gonna say "silence," but then I realized that'd make me a moron) on the part of my classmates ...
Dig yourself,
Sam
P.S. whoa, just noticed your email address, Sheryl. What's up with that? :) By which he means it doesn't seem accurate.
P.P.S. Actually, I like the harpsichord. I bet Gershwin would have dug it.
Harlan, I’m not going to, y’know, linger on this or anything, but thanks for the kind words and the inspiration. It means a lot to me and I won’t forget it.
You’re right about the shiksa, although I’m hesitant to think of her as "Gentile." If I am to classify her at all, it will be simply as "Siren"- great-granddaughter of the sea god
Phorcys. Luring me in, down on my knees, with the sweetness of her song. Dashing my brains out against the rocks then running off with a crackhead. My first and only- Valerie.
You bitch, Valerie.
Deep breaths.
...
I had a thought a moment ago (and boy did it hurt. ba da boom). This thought led me to go pawing through my copy of The Essential Ellison, the compendious tome which a high school classmate of mine once dismissed as having “too many pages.” Sure enough, right there in print was the story I just remembered from years back, “Valerie: A True Memoir.” I read that book, and that story, years ago. It would now appear as though I should have known better than to get mixed up with that broad, does it not?
SUMMATION OF THE POST THUS FAR: If she is a breathtaking beauty, if that ivory skin of hers is so silken and so invitingly warm, if holding her gaze makes you feel like the most important man on the face of the earth, and if you are ceaselessly amazed by her delicacy and her sincerity...and if her name is Valerie, tread carefully lads. After all, “Valerie” ain’t nothing but “Evil Era” misspelled.
(Like that one? It came out of a long evening of pining and resentment.)
As for myself, I am actually about as Gentile as they come. Mothers clutch their litter close to their bosoms when they see me coming. I don’t think I’m hitting too far off
the mark when I assume that I am often dismissed, at first glance, as a Waspish frat boy jock, a card-carrying Young Republican, a serial sorority rapist!
No one sees my true self, the soft little underbelly: the young, sensitive, passionate writer; the saccharine romantic with a fondness for puppies and long walks in the park.
What I’m saying here, basically, is that no one sees the side of me that I have methodically cultivated in order to lure women into bed.
It just occurred to me that “no one” includes any girls I'm interested in. Drats...I’ll have to work on taming the rampaging Schutz Staffel impression I must be making.
Mr. Finn: No, it’s not wrong to laugh at the Richard Gere reference. I threw it in there as an intentional joke. At that stage of the post, I figured any readers I still had left would be needing a bit of relief from what was essentially little more than a diatribe on the development of my current aversion to accumulating tchotchkes. It was an easy joke though. “Richard Gere.” The words just sit there on the screen waiting to be snickered at relentlessly.
Sheryl: Thanks for the tip. I’ll be sure to avoid that particular “writing instructor.” And I hope you reclaim that dream one of these days.
Anyhoo, thanks to everyone for accommodating these lengthy missives of mine. I do tend to bang on a bit. My fingers are like leaky spigots whenever they hover over a keyboard, and I can’t stop the little bastards from dancing. Goodnight everyone.
J
Kerry: I was almost off to bed, and then comes you and your Down Under elephant jokes.
Here's one back at you from my 4 year old nephew, who thinks yours is quite a good one, but I am firmly informed in ringing soprano tones, that "this is the best el'phant joke EVER, Aunt Sheryl, you tell that man", Take it seriously, or I'm going to be in *big trouble * with my little man. Ready?
Q: How do you kill a purple elephant?
A: Oh, you shoot 'im with your purple elephant gun.
Q: OK, then, how do you kill a white elephant?
A: Duh! You strangle him till he turns purple, and then shoot him with your purple elephant gun!
(Clearly, this joke proves that my poor, innocent Miah is going to a preschool run by the NRA J)
And an odd thing: I literally just finished (just before I logged on!) reading "Rocket Boys", which is Homer Hickam Jr.'s memoir of growing up in a West Virginia coal mining company town. Really a nice piece of work. I haven't seen the movie that's been made of it-did anyone see "October Sky"??-but a very neatly executed piece of resurrecting a significant event in history, and the effects of that moment on a very small group of boys. I recommend it when you're looking for a book to just relax with, no serious struggle required.
Sorry to post this twice, but I noticed two errors too egregious to let slide.
Wendy, that sounds like something from a Peter Straub novel. A
lot of Straub's stories explore this tension between what we call the real world and this other, more heightened reality.
Sheryl: I know exactly what you're saying but you explained it in a more elegant and complete way than I've heard before. When I was going to college in Chicago, one of my instructors informed the class that we were reading Toni Morrison's "The Bluest Eye" because "it's about time we got away from all those dead, white European males." While I have enormous respect and admiration for Morrison's work, I think dividing books along racial lines isn't helping anyone. And just because someone's dead doesn't mean his/her book dies as well.
Wendy, that sounds like something from a Peter Straub novel. A lot of Straub's stories explore this tension between what we call the real world and this other, more heightened reality.
Sheryl: I know exactly what you're saying about but you explained it in a more elegant and complete way than I've heard before. When I was going to college in Chicago, one of my instructors informed the class that we were reading Toni Morrison's "The Bluest Eye" because "it's about time we got away from all those dead, white European males." While I have enormous respect and admiration for Morrison's work, I think dividing books along recial lines isn't helping anyone. And just because someone's dead doesn't mean his/her book dies as well.
G’day all,
So many posts! So a few comments.
The ambiguity of your identity on the internet. I’m male, and I wonder how many people thought I was female?
A thread earlier about comics piqued my interest. As a youngster I had a large comic collection, which disappeared in my teen years and hasn’t been seen since. So I went and had a look at some of the graphic novels that were available, and after several hours of looking at this boards recommendations, and others, I’ve purchased my first “comics” in 20 years.
Dream career? Well, my Nan delights in telling that when I was a child, I used to say I wanted to fix computers (and be an astronaut and a fighter pilot and…). What happened was having to leave high school and becoming a Fitter and Machinist/Mine Mechanic, working in a mine for 13 years. The mine closed, I was retrenched, and I was exhilarated. I had spent 13 years in a career that in reality I hated. Hey, its my fault, I’m not blaming anyone but me, I could have left any time, it was just easier to stay. The Rut had set in. So then I spent 2 years in training, and my last 7 as a Help Desk Support and Network Administration assistant at my local Council. I fix computers, and fix other peoples problems with them. Life is better.
More quaint phrases have been remembered. “You weren’t born in a tent” i.e. close the bloody door, and my Nan come up with one “Dog in a manger”, which is something you don’t want and wouldn’t wish upon a stranger. I’ll also offer up the Australian “stone the flamin’ crows” which can be used in place of “I am shocked/stunned/awed/amazed/annoyed”, although you don’t hear it much these days. I know its been said before about we children of the box/silverscreen, but my parents got there catchlines from there parents, who got them from their’s etc, where we seem to get most of them from Hollywood. I wonder if many of the older sayings will survive as living colloquialisms.
Well, I’m off to read Edgeworks 1. I’ve gone from owning no Harlan Ellison books to 6, with 1 on the way from HERC, in just over a month.
See you round like a rissole.
Kerry
PS.
Question - Why do ducks have webbed? Answer - For stamping out forest fires.
Question - Why do Elephants have flat feet? Answer - For stamping out burning ducks.
(Blame Harlan, he did a joke first)
I can't remember the year, or even if it was Mike Hodel or Harlan Ellison who was hosting, but years ago on Hour 25 (KPFK) I heard a story. The parts I remember are that, in a world where hunger and even bad weather are under control, a person gets a glimpse of something behind what is thought to be the normative state of reality...and,for just a moment, through this shimmering breakdown of the "real world," sees another reality. As he investigates he begins to see that what everyone believes about the world in thier everyday life is a cover like the skin of an onion, layer upon layer of realities...lies covering lies, if you will. I also remember at the end he discovers worse case...people are starving in the cold, snowy streets in poverty and disease and vermin. If this strikes a chord of memory in anyone out there, and they can remember the title, the author and possibly who hosted and read that story on Hour 25 many years ago, I would appreciate hearing from you or reading an answer posted here!
Can y'all tell my boss took the day off?
John: You're right, there are those who can incubate a case of pernicious anemia in something even as impervious to literary over-analysis as "The Princess Bride." But it really is at least as much about what's being chosen as it is how it's being taught. There enormous are political swamps to be navigated to change any of it. There are relationships between suppliers and districts, suppliers and educational publishers, ed publishers and publishing houses, and so on, like a Faberge shampoo commercial. Every one of those relationships is based on Moolah, the Almighty God in charge of Making the World Go Around. Each entity-including your very own school administration, right down to the department chair who has control over the discretionary novel money, worships at that altar. And you must observe the web of Moolah's followers if you want anything. One year, 3 of us in an English department of 25 wanted to purchase "The Princess Bride" as the discretionary novel for the 9th grade. This would mean it could be taught by any teacher who chose it, and who could schedule to check it out for their class. This would entail buying 300 books, which they called a classroom set. We had to get 10 other teachers, only 2 of whom would ever conceivably use the book, to agree that this was a wise purchase-oh, but first, we had to make sure it was on the "list of available curricular sources" that came from the supplier, and the ed publisher, etc., and you get the picture.
Did we get them? Yes. BUT we were asked to quid pro quo support the purchase of 100 "Afro-American Reader" text for use in a "literature of diversity" class for honors level seniors. If the texts were purchased and the school offered the class, then there were extra "diversity funds" that the school could apply for, and you see how this all falls out, don't you? Like I said, the problem is in the choices of canon as much as it is in bad teaching/teachers. Most of the choices are dictated by the political philosophies of the district administration/school board, and thus it follows that texts are chosen according to how effectively they help to indoctrinate the kids under their alleged supervision to their particular cause. I was appalled at what was being chosen in California, until I saw the list of what a college classmate who'd moved to Montana had on his list.
Did you thought that the special interest lobbies only had offices in Washington D.C.?
Joesph: The harpsichord and Rachmaninoff? Or a Joplin rag? Or Gershwin? Eeuuww!
Cavalaxis: I don't like westerns either. My Papa was a Indian Cowboy, and he told much better true stories than I've ever found in any western, so I've never found them remotely appealing. I'm not sure offhand how I'd define what it is that Larry McMurtry writes, but they're something different than a western. Western is just sort of the jumping off place for him, I think. Would respectfully suggest it's a bit of an overgeneralization to put the poor guy in the same "genre" as Max Brand, Louis L'Amour and that freaky soft-porn western serial character…oh, hell, I've forgotten the name of them, but I had to take one away from a kid once because he was reading some really disgusting parts of it out loud to his buddies during free reading. Please don't lock poor Larry in the box with them!
I agree with most of the postings so far; certain teachers have a way of bleeding the life out of literary classics. But playing devil's advocate for a moment, think about how many people would never be exposed to such great stories except for the effort of said teachers. Those of us who decide to tackle Shakespeare on our own and even find entertainment in the endeavor are a dedicated few.
Briefly:
I noticed on Terry Moore's Strangers In Paradise website (a textbook in how to have a good promotional site, www.strangersinparadise.com) that he has Mr. Ellison has the first novelist in "Terry's Recommended Reading."
Cavalaxis -
May I recommend a essay collection that I think you'll get a kick out of? It's "Ex Libris," by Anne Fadiman, and her stories of her family are similar to yours (including a great story of them critiquing restaurant menus for typos). Wonderful addition to anyone's "Books on Books" shelf along with "A Gentle Madness," about bibliomania.
Sheryl -
I would have killed to have been in that class. High school students having fun with "Taming of the Shrew?" Hot damn tamale. I guess I was lucky enough to attend a Jesuit high school, so we had the grounding Greco-Roman history necessary to appreciate JC (of course, I did take Latin for two years (I sucked at it, but you have to learn something by exposure)). One of my biggest regrets from high school was that I never went on my school's summer Classics tour (the year they went on a tour of Roman Spain sounded fascinating). One of these years I'm going to go on that - they actually make it a student/alumni tour.
Y'know, a preview button might help some of these post-posting editorial posts: Disabuse *us* of the notion...
::sigh::
C.
"And I have needed the strengths that the crushing of that dream gave me the opportunity to gain." Sheryl, I think that's the answer right there. I often wonder what lesson I'm supposed to be learning this time around the wheel. Another family saying. "Adapt, improvise, overcome."
As to the pitiful nature of high school education: I moved from Texas to California and basically repeated my eighth grade English class my freshman year, then proceeded to help the teacher grade papers. You see, I'm the recovering daughter of a English teacher. My mother scoffs at spell-checkers. When I was six, we played Scrabble at my house, not Chutes & Ladders. Memories of Trivial Pursuit at our house makes The Weakest Link look like child's play. Crosswords were done in ball-point pen. To do any less was to admit weakness.
Someone upstairs smiled down on me when I met Richard Wilson. Mr. Wilson who clandestinely gave me a copy of George Carlin's Class Clown. Who actively berated the other staff for their slavish devotion to Hemingway, to the point of passing out copies of the Worst of Hemingway Contest submissions to disabuse of the notion that good ol' Ernest was the second coming. Who managed to bully, and I do mean *bully* the adminstration into letting him teach what he damn well wanted for the class The Novel. They never had a chance against his pure Bostonian charm.
So, I was among the lucky few that actually spent a whole semester dissecting Dune. Yeah - that's right. Dune, by Frank Herbert. I was one of the few that attempted to make it through his 'Suggested Reading' list: Stranger in a Strange Land, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, Time Enough For Love, The Foundation Trilogy, The Martian Chronicles. I read so much so quickly I don't remember half of it. (My goal for summer vacation is to read everything that's actually on my bookshelf, after I purge it of my mother's clandestine contributions. I don't care if Larry McMurtry was her teaching assistant at Rice. I don't *like* westerns!)
And one of my life's saddest moments was coming home from college my freshman year to thoughts of sharing the first semester with my favorite teacher, only to discover he had succumbed to bone cancer. He'd had it for five odd years and hadn't told any of us, even when his spine resembled swiss cheese and he lost all his hair. He just told us all the Yankess were goin' all the way as long as he wore that ball cap. We still get together and contemplate donating a volume of Hemingway's Collected Works to the library in his name, as a parting jest that would earn us all a smack in the back of the head.
Random Thoughts: I think I'm gonna get a t-shirt made that says "W*R*I*T*E*R" in big white-on-black letters just for the helluva it. And my current favorite Shakespeare is Titus (Andronicus) as portrayed by Sir Anthony Hopkins. I highly recommend it (the film), especially to this group. And finally, this was the last place I expected to see an AYBABTU reference. I liken that phenomenon to visual haiku, only sillier.
Until later,
C.
Joseph: See, it’s exactly this kind of stuff that makes Shakespeare’s adaptations of history such compelling theatre-I DO think JC is a marvelous script, as you clearly do-but it’s also the very reason that it’s completely the wrong thing to teach in high school. You can’t really do it the justice it deserves, and all that happens is that you make kids hate WS because it’s being mishandled in *multiple * directions. It would take 6 weeks of Greco-Roman history, instruction in script analysis, scene rehearsals and critiques, and access to a solid performance to do the thing right. On the other hand, you can do a just a little script analysis training, and read R&J out loud, and you can capture a whiff of the thing, anyway. Same thing with Taming; you can read it aloud and catch it, because the clarity of the underlying commedia makes it accessible, the same way teenage angst make R&J accessible to most kids.
This I know for certain, because a conspiratorial (and incidentally retiring that year) department head and I IGNORED the principal at one school I taught at, handed out a typed summary of JC to my classes, and of Othello to hers, (so they would know what the questions on the SAT were referring to when they took it) and then spent the allotted 3 weeks on “Taming” instead. We called it a “team-teaching” experiment, shoved the sophomores and the seniors all onto the stage, and just went wild with it. It was hysterical fun, and nobody said “I hate Shakespeare” one single time the whole 3 weeks. AND a bunch of them had such a good time, they tried out for the spring musical. I’d already decided that wasn’t the school for me, so who cared if the principal was happy or not?
I have more than once been accused of being a rabble-rousing rebel, but it’s only when I know I’m right!:-)
Sheryl,
Are you trying to make me destroy my keyboard? I nearly spit coffee all over it. Nature of society indeed....
Personally, I find JC fascinating for the choices that Brutus feels he has to make. Not to stretch the anology (or, as my wife would put it, play the "Find the Christ Figure" game), but Brutus is in many ways a sympathetic character in the way that Judas Iscariot is, struggling to do what he feels is best for himself and for the good of Rome (if you consider some of the modern interpratations of Iscariot, which speculate that he was a Macabee trying to liberate the Palestine province). Of course, he opened the way for Octavius and his cronies to take over and create the Empire, but I think he really was trying to do the right thing.
Of course, if you want to get into the rumors that Gaius Julius Caesar has a very passionate affair with Servilia, mother of Marcus Brutus, I won't stop you. Ah, what a tangled web those Romans wove...which makes Plutarch's "Lives" all the more enjoyable reading. To quote:
"It is said that Caesar had so great a regard for him that he ordered his commanders by no means to kill Brutus in the battle, but to spare him, if possible, and bring him safe to him, if he would willingly surrender himself; but if he made any resistance, to suffer him to escape rather than do him any violence. And this he is believed to have done out of a tenderness to Servilia, the mother of Brutus; for Caesar had, it seems, in his youth been very intimate with her, and she passionately in love with him; and, considering that Brutus was born about that time in which their loves were at the highest, Caesar had a belief that he was his own child. The story is told that, when the great question of the conspiracy of Catiline, which had like to have been the destruction of the commonwealth, was debated in the senate, Cato and Caesar were both standing up, contending together on the decision to be come to; at which time a little note was delivered to Caesar from without, which he took and read silently to himself. Upon this, Cato cried out aloud, and accused Caesar of holding correspondence with and receiving letters from the enemies of the commonwealth; and when many other senators exclaimed against it, Caesar delivered the note as he had received it to Cato, who reading it found it to be a love-letter from his own sister Servilia, and threw it back again to Caesar with the words, "Keep it, you drunkard," and returned to the subject of the debate. So public and notorious was Servilia's love to Caesar."
Now that's hoisting Cato on his own petard, considering how much of a Stoic he was. Fun family, eh?
Joseph: Didn't you take notes on what English teacher told you? It's called "Julius Caesar" because JC is the catalyst that drives the conspirators to their various actions, each according to his nature, which nature illustrates some aspect of the nature of society.
I know this to be true, because I have the department approved unit notes.
Correction: It's "All your base are belong to us".
Hence: "All your HARLAN are belong to us".
I really gotta get a life.
No, Joseph, it's actually all your HARLAN belong to us!!!!!
Man, I've been hanging around these wicked boards for waaaayyyyyy too long.
Gunther -
You learned English from computer games? Does that mean all your base belong to us?
Note for those who haven't had the joke explained yet: this "internet phrase" is from a bad translation of an old Capcom game into English about some sort of alien invaders taking over military bases.
God, what an incredible number of posts in these last few days. I've seen one or two complaining about computers (and of course I know Mr. Ellison's stance towards them), so let me share this with you:
My first language is German; I come from Austria. The English teachers I had in school were mostly idiots, doing the same things over and over again. So I had to mostly teach it to myself.
I did this in two ways. One - reading as many English books as I could get my hands on. Note that back in those days (and this may sound stupid as I'm only 24, but it's true) it was impossible to get English books at all in the small town where I lived and still not easy in the larger city some thirty miles away, every trip to which was like a journey across the globe for young me.
Fortunately, my aunt spent much of her time in the USA, and would bring along such goods as C. S. Lewis' Narnia Chronicles or Ursula K. LeGuin's Earthsea books, which I eagerly devoured.
The other part was --
computer games.
Yup, a large chunk of my English comes from playing good old-fashioned adventure games on the computer (back then, an immensely expensive IBM laptop with an incredible 4.77 MHz)
What's the point? Computers *are* good for something after all. I guess. (I also make money by programming them, so this is still true.)
Joseph - I'm not so sure it's shoddy research as much as it is the overuse in the media of "the Dark Knight" as a stylish catch-all for all things Batman. I'd wager the thought process went thusly: Ross had done Batman covers, including the hundreth issue of "Legends of a Dark Knight", and, well, we can't use "Man of Steel" in the headline and then juxtapose it with "Batman" - so...
It sounds like somebody was trying to be cool and hip and now and slapped the generic "Dark Knight" nickname in there for the sake of overused-nickname symmetry, which is really kind of jarring when you're in the know about who has done what in the comic world...
Before I get to the individual responses, a little…erm…rant.
Newcity, a free weekly here in Chicago, has an article on comic artist Alex Ross in their April 19th issue (cover by Ross, by the way). Now, it’s a pretty decent article. Fairly well written and fair to Mr. Ross. I do recommend it for my compatriots in the Chicago area who can get their mitts on one.
HOWEVER
The freaking headline on the cover says “Man of Steel: Sam Weller takes on “Dark Knight” comic genius Alex Ross”
Sigh.
Would it have taken so long to check this in editing? I know headline writers are curiously divorced from the body copy in newspapers, but you think they could refrain from attributing a work to Mr. Ross that a hell of a lot of people know is not his!
Hell, I just checked, and it’s on the website version of the story as well. Check out newcitychicago.com and click on the left sidebar link for “features.” Story’s still pretty good.
Sheryl -
I love a woman on a soapbox. Brings a smile to my heart.
I’ll agree with you on the problems of trying to teach scripts (oh, I’m sorry Mr. Educator (not you, Sheryl), “plays”) to students. It just doesn’t work to simply read and discuss. They have to see it performed. Strangely, the first time I ever saw a live performance of Shakespeare was in high school, when my Lit class went to see, of all things, “King John” at the Shakespeare Repertory (back when they were in the Ruth Page Theatre). THAT was when I first appreciated Shakespeare (well, and a week later when I saw “Ran” for the first time).
That said, I have a higher opinion of “Julius Caesar” than many people (I personally think it would have done well to be named “Brutus”), but I agree that there are better Shakespearean works. Of course, I'm addicted to anything about Republican Rome. Ever looked at Colleen McCullough's "First Man In Rome" series? They're surprisingly good.
As for Hemingway and Fitzgerald, I’ll simply disagree. I think F. Scott is a bit better than you say. A simple difference of opinion.
Twain’s “Literary Offenses” got me in trouble in high school because I was reading it during a math class and couldn’t stop laughing every two seconds. Got detention for that one, I did. I’m grinning just thinking of the example of the river barge and Cooper’s cigar-store Indians.
I am with you 100% on the ethnicity-for-ethnicity’s sake. There’s so much good stuff in “world literature” that to toss in junk for the sake of diversity is insulting to great authors like Octavia Butler. Don’t even get me started on genre literature classes, either. The biggest insult to a work is to pigeonhole it and make sure that only the students who seek it out will have the works exposed to them. “Detective Fiction?” Pah! Nobody should be leaving high school and college who has not been exposed to the great detective literature of the 20th Century! More Marlowe! “The Maltese Falcon!” Great works should be taught, not marginalized.
By the way, have you thought of trying the harpsichord?
Finder -
Thanks for the advice on Final Cut Pro. I’m definitely going to look into my options. Simply upgrading to Premiere 6 would be cheaper, but I just might go with a native Apple program.
Well, clearly the /a/ isn't working correctly on my keyboard, as I just read over my last bit, and some are missing. Please insert as makes sense...
Joseph: You don’t really want a defected-from-their-bullshit-system English teacher to get started on the high school approved canon, do you? But I’ll give you a very minimal taste of my “why the hell would I want to inflict this sh** on a kid” list, if you like. Let me set up my soap box.
In random order as they occur to me:
1. “Julius Caesar.” WHY? When there are 35 other god forsaken Shakespearean plays they haven’t read, including “Taming of the Shrew,” and all of Marlowe and Johnson stand unaddressed, does the educational establishment want to foist this particular thing on every sophomore in the country? WHY, oh Master of the Universe, WHY????? It’s not a bad thing, it’s just not the right thing for high school.
2. Hemingway. You’re absolutely right about Ernie H. I’ve heard he’s the master of the simple sentence, but does that mean the son of a motherless goat can’t use anything else? Jesus, please us. Perhaps my feelings about Hemingway are exaggerated because I grew up less than 100 miles from Ketchum and he’s a hometown-boy-made-good-hero, but I don’t think so. I think he’s just disgustingly overrated drunk with a bunch of deformed cats who only got published because The New Yorker had pages to fill.
3. Put F. Scott Fitzgerald in the same box with Ernie. “Gatsby” is the biggest load of self-indulgent crap I’ve ever been threatened with firing over. If I were going to burn a book, it would be that one.
4. James Fenimore Cooper. Please see Twain’s “Literary Offenses of Fenimore Cooper.” The master elucidates the troubles with Cooper far more clearly than I ever could, and more importantly, he’s got Cooper dead to rights. Although Daniel Day Lewis was cute in the leather. I would wait for him to find me.
5. “Bartelby the Scrivener.” ARE WE TRYING TO KILL STUDENTS? Because this monstrosity seems like a pretty clear attempted murder. Where is Sam Waterston when you really need him?
6. Ethnic literature for the sake of ethnicity, in general. There are BRILLIANT works that draw on minority experiences that should be included in every student’s educational experience because they truly expand the understanding of our mutual humanity (“Bless Me, Ultima”, and “The Chosen” are two off the top of my head.) But the preponderance of what’s approved for curricular use is divisive, self-pitying bullshit designed to make kids who aren’t of a definable ethnic strain feel indefinably bad just because they aren’t, and to promote an unfounded sense of entitlement in those who are, just because they are. This crap, incidentally, is why Dr. King’s prayer for the contents of our characters hasn’t come to pass, IMHO.
7. Teaching “plays” in general. WHY ARE WE TEACHING SCRIPTS THAT ARE MEANT TO BE PRODUCED AS IF THEY WERE GOD DAMNED SHORT STORIES?? And the one that’s the worst? The very worst “play” you can possibly teach? “The Diary of Anne Frank.” (Why can’t we just read the diary? What are they afraid of? Will the Nazi’s look bad and have hurt feelings?) And second only by a hair, “The Miracle Worker.” You have to see this to get it.
I have to get off the soapbox now, or I never will. Additions to the list, anyone?
Sam: What are you saying? Is every orchestra, every venue going to provide a smaller Steinway for my hands? Logic, my love, logic. I don’t subscribe, I’m afraid, to the philosophy of “accommodating differences” anyway. That’s more educational sophistry. Reality is as it is, and one must deal with what it is, particularly when it’s harsh reality. Insurmountable obstacles-the ones that force you to fail, learn, and to find other dreams in place of those that fail-are necessary, too. I know you know this, Sam; my piano is how I had to learn it. It was the only thing, then, that meant enough for the lesson to take. And I have needed the strengths that the crushing of that dream gave me the opportunity to gain. It was a more than fair trade; it’s just one I wouldn’t have chosen to make, given my ‘druthers, as Peg put it.
About writing workshops: That’s another dream, one I’m working my way back to slowly. It’s an ugly story as to how that one got mashed within an inch of its life, but let me just put out one specific warning to those of you who are actively working on it. Avoid at ALL COSTS any workshop that includes in its staff guy called Frank (or Franklin) Fisher. He thinks he’s a W*R*I*T*E*R, but he’s a poseur and a prick, and he leaves wholesale destruction in his wake.
Joseph - Final Cut Pro fully supports firewire, and also supports third-party plug-ins (including, I'm told, plug-ins for Adobe After-Effects). Though the learning curve was steep (I'd never done any editing prior to FCP), once I got into it up to my elbows, I found it to be as powerful as I need for right now. I've been able to do some fairly good effects shots without having to go to outside software packages, though After Effects is in the running for the role of Next Big Purchase...
The current project (in as much as I can share) combines parody of a cult TV show with a fish-out-of-water scenario; and at the same time, I'll be filming segments of two other short films - one of our actors is potentially moving to the West Coast, so we've had to bump up some filming to complete his portion of a short trilogy that's in the works, just in case. I'm loving every minute of it.
And a VX-2000 would be sweet... maybe next year... who needs to eat, really?
Ms. Lorin ... oops. Sorry. :) And yes, I do blame your mother. And regarding "sticking to posts of a reasonable length", I say "Why bother?" Write as much as you want to; those who don't wish to read it all can choose to skim, and that way you won't be depriving anyone else from the full benefits of your visiting this board. Of course, do whatever you want to do and feel free to ignore anyone and everyone else's advice if that's what's best.
Sheryl ... god didn't make your hands too small, Steinway makes them pianos too damn big. Sad thing is, I'm serious. I know they make 3/4 size cellos, for instance ... and so unless it's physically impossible to construct I'm sure you could find a scaled-down piano. If you really want to look at it as god having reasons to make your hands too small, couldn't it at least be possible s/he did it to see how much it really meant to you? Maybe s/he's thinking "What if I place this obstacle in her way? Is she just gonna give up, or is she gonna work around it?" Just a thought.
Metaphors be with you,
Sam
I've been trying to respond to posts properly for the last two days and my brain has rebelled against me every time. Maybe this time I'll be able to get something down before my internal editor starts moving my finger toward the delete key...
It's been half a decade since I was in high school, but I've spent many an hour pondering just what it was I learned there. About the time I had my crises, both existential and academic, I discovered that the reason I didn't learn much in high school was because they didn't teach the right lessons. Take old Willy Shakespeare as a for instance... In high school I must have read Romeo and Juliet, Othello, Hamlet, Much Ado About Nothing, and The Tempest. Only, unless I was watching them on stage, I was normally bored to tears. Why? Because the people in charge of my education in all matters Shakespeare completely ignored the music of his plays and focused on plot and characters. To focus on his plot and characters is to focus on contrivances and cardboard as far as I'm concerned. What distinguishes old Willy S. from most everybody else are the rhythms of his words. I only figured this out recently. It's why I loved watching productions of his plays and detested reading the scripts, because I would try and read the text straight without turning on my internal metronome.
This is also why high schools insist on teaching The Scarlet Letter. It is relatively simple to understand with obvious symbols that even the most inept teacher can force down a student's throat. They focus on plot and characters and symbolisms, all the while ignoring the music of the language, the rhythm of a well tuned sentence, the beat of the paragraphs.
This also goes into a response for what makes literature last and the usefulness of a workshop. A good story, one that makes an impression, one that lasts, is one that sings to us. Even Hemingway, in his way, sung to us -- even though it was a simple song. For years I've been reading about how a writer has got to find his voice. What I didn't understand for a long while as I practiced this craft was that a voice needed rhythm. It wasn't enough to tell a story. I've had some pretty damn clever ideas over the last few years, but I hadn't hit my rhythm yet, I hadn't found my voice. I was writing with two left feet. A good writing workshop, like the one I'm in now, will not only point out what works and doesn't work in plot and character, but will also point out what works in music and rhythm. It will help you find a beat. This was also why I love metrical poetry and always thought that something that looked metrically constructed was superior to most "straight from the brain" free verse.
Of course there are several on this board better versed in all things written than I, including a six-time 11 year-old (is that accurate?) who can all tell me I'm full of shit. And I might be, but this is just what feels right (write?) to me. I still believe that story is king when it comes to writing. Without a story the words are meaningless, the rhythms just empty beats. However, without music, even the best, most exciting stories can become white noise, the electrical buzz of flickering fluoresent lights, the whine of an idling engine.
Okay. I feel happy with this response. Hopefully my brain won't shut down again.
---Peter
Finder-
We are going to be shooting with a Sony TRV-310 (god, I wish I had a VX-2000) and editing with Adobe Premiere 5.1c on my iMac DV+ (the 366 MHz model). I’m seriously considering upgrading soon to Premiere 6 for the native firewire capabilities, but please answer a question for me: how is Apple Final Cut Pro, in your experience? Does it support firewire and third-party plug-ins well? Also, what is your project about?
Sheryl & Jeff -
You seem to have feeling about “The Scarlet Letter” that I have about the works of Hemingway. I never could quite understand the Hemingway worship that goes on in United States high schools. In a world with Isaac Bashevis Singer, Jorge Luis Borges, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Faulkner, Fitzgerald, Flannery O’Connor and many others, why high schools focus so much on one author (and one I personally consider a third-tier author) to the detriment of exposing students to the great works of the 20th Century is beyond me.
Whoah. That was a mouthful of a sentence, wasn’t it?
Justin -
Is it wrong that in your highly interesting memoir below, I laughed out loud at the Richard Gere movie joke? Nice touch.
Oh, and my other dream job? F-14 Tomcat pilot. I’m not even talking combat flight. I just want to fly that baby over Nevada for a couple of hours. Goddamn Flight Simulator and Fly2K! They’re far too good of simulations these days and make you really want to be a pilot. But, I made a pledge to my wife that I would never take flying lessons. She’s fairly afraid to fly and she’d be a complete nervous wreck.
Harlan to Justin:
A couple of observations re: your revelatory posting.
1. For eighteen years old, kiddo, you write INFINITELY better than I did at that age. Whatever you decide to make of your existence, Justin, continue writing. You have the gift, you hear the music. I am sparing with urgings like that, as you probably know; and when I proffer it, there usually proceeds from that point someone who has integrated "writing" in his/her life. So from time to time, whatever you're working at--job, school, family, marriage--write an essay, or an article, or a short story...intended for publication.
What a sensible, talented, remarkable little-Jewish-fellow-who- shouldn't-have-been-dating-a-shiksa-that-young-to-begin-with you are. And when you express surprise that I kenned you were a MOT and that the girl who dumped you was Gentile, remember what I said about reading the Sherlock Holmes stories as the best tool for leading a life that you alone control.
Yr. pal, Harlan. The all-wise. The all-knowing.
Oh, THAT dream job. The one that hurts because I can't have it. Well, I guess I trust you, Peg.
Classical concert pianist. But my hands are too small. It seemed possible when I was younger, because I was quite good, but I reached a point my junior year in high school where even though I could READ the music, my hands wouldn't REACH the music. It happens a lot more than you'd think, really. I tried to pretend for 2 years that it was that I wasn't practicing enough, that I wasn't focusing enough--anything but face the truth. I finally HAD to face it when I went to an audition for the piano performance program I wanted to enter. I listened to the others, and I knew what I sounded like, and I looked at everyone else's--including the professors'--hands, and I couldn't deny it anymore. I had to stop playing; it felt like I was bleeding all over the keys for that dream every time I touched them. My hands weren't going to grow, and I had reached the limits of what I could play, and it wasn't enough. I had to quit, or bleed to death.
My piano still sits in my parent's living room. I've always lived in upstairs apartments with no elevators so I had an excuse not to take it. It's been more than 15 years, and I still can't look that piano in the face every day. I can spend the weekend with the man I was supposed to marry and his wife and adorable kids, knowing it could/should have been me and not her, but I can't look at that piano. The only thing I think I truly regret in life is that I will never be the pianist I know in my soul I could have been, because God made my hands too small. I'm sure he had His reasons, but it doesn't hurt any less for all of that.
From Harlan to Lorin O.:
One need never tug one's forelock at suspected "verbosity" when the posting is as charming, as sensible, and as heartfelt as yours. Pray do not lurk, but return full-voice whenever. And give the baby a kiss from all of us.
Yr. pal, Harlan.
Thanks, Joseph and Sam and all the rest of you for slogging through my late-night meanderings. One tiny clarification...not that it matters in these basically genderless environs, but Lorin = gal, not guy. It's a common mistake, given the spelling of my name. Blame my mom for that one!
Over and out,
Lorin
(Sticking to posts of a reasonable length.)
Hmm Dream job well since Neil Armstong beat me to the moon. I'm settleing for my second dream job one that does not pay well or keep me in caviar and champagne but fills my quiet times and much of my spare time and that is I'm a reader yep I read not as much as I did as a kid or in the Navy (hey ya got keep occupied somehow during those long cruises to nowhere). I started reading the big classics like Asimov Clarke and Heinlein and then Whoa I discovered Mr.Ellison's work! No other author has consistantly taken me off on a divergent tangent like his work has. OK I was going to expand on that but I won't overfeed his ego too much today! I can sum his impact on me simply as a swift kick in the mind that grabbed me by the soul and dragged my mind into many new worlds and thoughts. For that I will always be grateful.
Putty.
I'm on two different meds for my sinus infection. One gets me all wired up. I had the dream where I could fly if I had webbed hands last night. And yes, they're letting me operate machinery and write operating procedures today. Heh heh heh.
Putty.
Not puddy (which didn't look right, which conjured up the mental image of Tweety even as I typed it, tawting he taw one)
Putty.
Credibility is fleeting. But the blush of public ignorance, well that just goes on and on...
Justin - it took me until about age 30 to come to grips with what you already have a bead on with regards to the big corporate job and the over-complication of life. It's a good thing to understand before you're in hock up to your neck and tithed to the company, and you'll be much better off, I suspect, for that clarity at this point in your life.
Peg - Actually, I have no qualms about being the "sensitive" Beatle. I just want to find the right hand in which to be puddy...
P.S. - Finder, I just loved your example!! While you might be able to make yourself insensitive to loud noises through therapy, you'd have to fundamentally change your personality to stop being a softy.
Besides, we like you soft - it's easier to manipulate you that way...
I really enjoy being an engineer and insofar as *earning a living* goes, I doubt I'd find anything else with a better combination of interesting problems, techy bits, fun people, and a paycheck sizable enough to support the other things in life I enjoy. My current situation isn't the best example, though, and I will change that situation if it hasn't improved when I reach a particular (already defined) limit. I'm happy being me, living my life; all the parts of my life don't have to be perfect for that to occur. Same goes for the job.
As for dream jobs, well, maybe that wasn't the best term. What I was trying to get at was - Is there something you would do for a living if you had your druthers, but was not a possibility in reality? Like wishing you could be an olympian caliber high jumper when you're only 5'2". It just ain't gonna happen. There's an implication of an unacheivable level of skill and, secondarily, success at said job. The topic was not about the whole "just do it" attitude.
I think Lorin nailed what I meant with the phrase natural aptitude. Sure, I could go out on street corners and wail away, but it wouldn't be very good and I'd starve. I suppose the former should be more important philosophically.
I have no interest in trying to make a living doing something I'm not good at and never will be (barring technology which could physically alter my vocal cords) as I'll perpetually disappoint myself. Like Lorin's technical musician, I could train myself into being able to perform but who would want to listen? I'm honest enough with myself to know that limitation.
Now, if there is something you consider to be your dream job, and there is some way you could be made capable of doing it, well then I think folks here have a point - go out and do it, even if it's gonna take some time.
'Course, that's just my viewpoint and y'all are all welcome to think I'm a big lazy wussie-girl.
Peg
Oops, sorry Lorin. There should have been a "very" between "a" and "smart".
argh
Once again dipping into my trash bag of ideas ...
Cookie, you strike me as that rare breed of teacher who does not tell students what to think but rather encourages thought and trust in one's own faculties ... which is my way of saying, you seem really cool. It's too bad that there are so many people out there who pervert the intent of art into elitist exclusion ... and it's very sad that we don't have very many Leonard Bernsteins around to show us that it's all jazz and that you don't need a stick up your ass to enjoy it. Art should never be used as a tool to "prove" that you're superior to someone else, but that is how 90% of the classical musicians I've played with use it, that is how 90% of the lit majors I've run into use it, that is how 90% of museum curators use it, etc. I miss Lenny.
Well, on the subject of catch-phrases ... first off, isn't it kinda ironic, in light of Rick's Rant, that a lot of our catch-phrases come from pop culture? I'm no exception: the ones I'll mention here come from the adventures of Tintin and Snowy, et. al. By far the most durable (in my family at least) expressions are gleaned from Thompson and Thomson, two dimwitted detectives who just happen to look exactly alike (and their names always sound alike, no matter the language; Dupond and Dupont in French, for example). Thus:
"With a 'P', as in 'psychology.'" -- Used to identify which Thompson is speaking on the telephone
or the immortal:
"Dumb's the word, that's our motto."
And of course Captain Haddock's barrage of obscure insults ("bashi-bazouk", for instance) is bound to rub off on anyone who reads those books.
Lorin: you're a smart guy.
Harlan: Damn you, you stole my response to the dream job discussion (except that I was gonna put "Sam Reed" where you put "Harlan Ellison") ... now I'll have to come up with something else. I make the most out of every moment I have, but I guess if pinned down my response would be the same as Peg's ... except that I'm still deluding(?) myself that I can make it despite my crappy voice. Maybe that's the foolishness of youth or maybe it's the foolishness of knowing Bob Dylan's work ("Gee perfessor! If BOB can do it, why can't *I*?") ... but the lesson Bob lives is a good one: You don't have to be the greatest guitar player or singer or whatever, as long as you enjoy what you do, as long as it means something to you and you do it with every electrical impulse running through your body, it will be rewarding to you, and that is all that matters.
Of course, I'm currently unemployed, but I'm not gonna mention that as it might detract from my credibility.
-Sam
Lorin-
Let's just say that your story about your niece had this Catholic-turned-Jew alsmot involuntarily performing the Sign of the Cross. God bless that she is doing do well.
Thanks to everyone who responded to my earlier post about creative writing programs. I’ve found the response to be tremendously helpful and insightful! I’ll certainly
take your advice to heart, Harlan. I will search for Mr. Bryant’s e-mail address and invite him to visit the board. I will also make up a list of questions for potential writing
instructors, as you suggested. I’ll tell ‘em, “Harlan Ellison suggested I give you this little examination before we continue, if you don’t mind.” If they don’t begin to fidget nervously or quiver in some way upon hearing the words “Harlan Ellison suggested I give you this little examination” then I’m just leaving the classroom right then and there. Ah, it looks as though I’ve already come up with one test for them to pass, this is going swimmingly! Anyway, if interest in the topic persists, I’ll make certain to post additional insights which I am sure to gather from others involved in writing programs.
On the subject of “dream jobs” I find I have something to say as well, but in a somewhat ponderous way, so I hope you’ll bear with me folks.
I’ve worked for the past two years at a “multimedia” company which I’m sure most of you hear about every day on the news (the Inner-Party legalities restrict me from specifically identifying which company I work for. Sorry- but don’t worry, I run little sabotage missions against them from within, muhaha, to get back at them for their crap). But you’ve heard of the company. Trust me on this one.
I’ve spent the past six months concentrating primarily on school, but for a good year and a half I was entirely wrapped up in the new job at the high-profile corporation. I
felt successful, and quickly moved away from home and into what I deemed to be a very stylish and sexy apartment. Then came the “stuff”- I was doubtlessly a dutiful consumer. Within three months I had entirely cocooned myself in this world of complete physical and material comfort. I was basically shackling myself to a corporation so that I could then further enslave myself to “stuff,” and hide from the big, nasty old world. I was eighteen and had all the smarts of a barnacle goose.
Nevertheless, I did have the vague sense that something was terribly wrong. When I lost my girl (she didn’t die or anything, this isn’t a Richard Gere movie, she just ran off
with some schmendrick), I was left to ponder my situation all alone in my antiseptic little world. I became restless, and I discovered that I’d tied myself down to all this extraneous
crap that I suddenly realized meant absolutely nothing. My life had become soulless. The kind of job so many people my age seem to want--the corporate job with the stock options
and the promises of millions (ha!)--I got. And it sucks. I'll leave the job this summer when I finally "go away" to college, and I won't be weeping over it.
It’s just harsh reality out there in the job market, no dreams. Those are internal, and I’d rather spend my dream tokens on spaceships and girls. The point being that I’ve found it immeasurably more useful to know what I DO NOT want to do with the rest of my life, rather than what I “dream” of doing. I’ve spent too long working with the people with the crushed souls- living the corporate life so they can keep the juice running
constantly into their television sets at home. The average Americans, living lives of quiet desperation. I would rather gouge my eyes out with a knotty old stick than turn into that.
I’m not looking down on a way of life some people may find happiness in, I would never do that, but it just isn’t for me. Perhaps possessing an absolute certainty about what you
don’t want in life is more valuable than dreaming of what you do want.
I’ve spent the past two years surrounded by people, at work and at school, who somehow managed for all the wrong reasons to get tangled up in a crushing mediocrity
that will likely last them the rest of their lives, and it makes me sad. As for me, I’ve learned to value SIMPLICITY and MOBILITY. I will hold onto them both, and therefore hold onto my freedom. I won’t make the mistake of letting it go again. Maybe if I do have a "dream job," it's just anything I can walk away from when I'm finished with it, rather than when it's finished with me.
Yeah, I might get sqwooshed like a bug out there.
...but at least the bastards aren’t going to get me without a fight. Not this time.
Summation: If you hate your job and want something different, then just pay off your debts, quit your job (and write it off as a good education in what you don’t want out
of the rest of your days), sell your stuff, pawn off the spouse and kids, and go live like a Bohemian. It beats standing around a water cooler talking about the stock market, don’t it?
Doin' the whole resistance thingy,
J
My GOD, I just read back over my post and am mortified at my verbosity. I had no idea I went on for as long as THAT. My most-humble apologies.
I swear, I'll just sit and read for at least the next week!
Bowing...scraping...giving someone ELSE a little room...
Lorin
So many wonderful posts, so little time...
Funny, have been thinking about the "dream job" issue all day and had finally come to the conclusion that I actually HAVE my dream job (though I assumed we weren't to count writing in the equation). Actually, it's dream jobS, which suits my somewhat mercurial temperament just fine. I write; I edit; I teach. What's been hanging me up lately is the issue of proportion. I do more editing than writing--I'm good at it, and it's extraordinarily gratifying--when I'd like the reverse to be true. So, that's what's on my plate these days: re-ordering my world, my life, my finances, so I can move writing to the top of the pyramid.
I have to say that when I read HE's post, I thought, "Well, hell, I'd like to be Harlan Ellison too!" But, of course, the job is currently being filled by the most qualified candidate. :) Still, it occurs to me that with all this talk, we can take a page out of the man's book: be the best damn ________ (fill in your name here) you know how to be. (God, I hope this doesn't sound unctuous or condescending. I wish tone translated a lot better in these forums than it does!) As much as I admire his work, I have to say that I admire what I perceive to be his fearlessness and ruthless integrity just as much. So, that's what I'm working toward - with my own slant, of course. And, at 35, I'm beginning to see the proverbial light.
Re: BRAZIL - Chris, I don't know if you've ever read the book about the making of the film. I think it's called "The Battle of Brazil," but don't hold me to it. It's a fascinating account. Anyway, as I recall, the studio beat Gilliam up pretty extensively over his planned ending, which was, I think, even more bleak than the way it ends now. What THEY wanted was for the movie to end with Sam's fantasy of driving away with Jill. What Gilliam originally had was just a cut to black after we discover Sam has been tortured to near-death. So, the current ending IS a more upbeat choice in its way, and I agree with your assessment (not that you asked ME, but what the heck, I'm just barrelling right in here). Sam ends the movie with his ability to escape, albeit only mentally, intact. The system couldn't beat THAT out of him, though they could take everything, and everyone, else.
RE: Writing workshops...well, I don't want to go into this too deeply, because I'm one of those people who, I hope, can both DO and TEACH. I agree with Mr. Ellison that people are wise to investigate the credentials of anybody who purports to be expert enough to teach writing (or any subject for that matter). I also think, and a dozen or so years of experience in the field have supported this view, that there are some elements of writing that can be taught and some that are a lot tougher to convey. Like anything else, some people have natural aptitude in writing; some don't. Some people understand, through reading-osmosis, what it means to tell a story. Some people could read five-hundred books a year and still never quite "get" it. They lack the "ear." But, I have seen some people I would have pegged as pretty well "tone-deaf" make remarkable strides with just a bit of concrete instruction. So, you never know. Or at least *I* never know. Mostly I think it's true that reading A LOT and writing A LOT are the best forms of education available to a would-be writer.
Re: the longevity of writers...what occurred to me is the sense of wanting to duplicate an experience, the experience one has in reading a really fabulous piece of writing. What brings me back to an author again and again is that rush I get in reading his/her work, the challenge to my intelligence, my emotional involvement with his/her characters, that feeling of hurtling (or floating) toward the end of a book but hating for it to end at the same time. It's a little like wanting to go back to the same restaurant over and over, even if you're going to select different meals each time. Maybe it's a little bit like drugs or alcohol or anything else that's potentially addictive.
None of that, for me, has to do with genre. The authors I like tend to slip around in terms of their commercial categorization. But I understand why genre works are so popular, and I think it has to do with the above, the desire to experience a certain kind of "reading high" over and over again. Maybe that high gets diluted after a while, especially if one sticks to only a handful of authors or one genre, but it's got a reliability about it that makes it attractive.
Well, that's about it. I'll beg your indulgence for just one more second here, though, and interject something a bit personal. I'm away from home now, visiting family in Houston, TX, for my niece's one-year-birthday celebration. Usually, I'd tell my sister she's nuts to throw the kind of bash she has planned for a baby who would be just as happy playing with, or in, a cardboard box all day. Only, my niece was born with the most seriously defective heart her doctors had ever seen. She had one chamber, rather than the usual four, and nothing seemed to be connected the way it should be. No one knew how long she'd live outside the womb, if at all. And yet here she is, three surgeries and a lot of medication later, a gregarious, adorable, healthy kid. At least for now. So, I guess the message is that life is fleeting and precious and surprising. And for me one of the greatest surprises and recent pleasures has been to find this message board and this level of discourse. So, I thank you.
And now I'll send this before I chicken out completely. Thanks for taking the time to read my thesis! Oy!
-- Lorin
Another from the file of bizarre (extended) family sayings, as long as we're being less than tasteful:
"Come on Fate, you fickle bitch. Let's Fuck!" W.Hatfield, my SO
Must be a combination of nitro-cellulose and testosterone poisoning.
C.
Harlan, far from being insufferable, your comments had me in hysterics! Imagine if everyone was excited about who they were and what they did. There'd be less misery and less envy. My dad has an expression that some find less than charming: "Sometimes you gotta trip over your own dick." In other words, don't be afraid to fuck up; at least you tried.
Harlan--Your post reminded me of a quote I found somewhere, and while it will be horribly embarrassing if it turns out its origins lie within one of your stories, I may as well post it anyway (the more I think of it, the more I seem remember it coming from a Terry Pratchett novel, but I could be wrong). I don't remember the exact phrase, but it was something like: I happen to be living my life, which, I'll have you know, has heretofore never been attempted.
Sheryl--Odd you should mention The Scarlet Letter. I may've mentioned this--I have the funniest feeling that I have--but we just finished reading that in my class. Suffice to say that I wish every teacher fought it as vehemently as you apparently did. And I don't know about where you come from, but around here, our teachers quit because The District insists on keeping them two doors down from the poor house.
~Jeff
Joseph - What are you filming with? I ask because I'm working along the same lines, shooting with a Sony TRV-900 and doing post production on a G4 with Final Cut Pro. Been at it about a year now; just finished my fourth short, and the next begins filming Memorial Day weekend. I'm contemplating something feature length for next year, if I can get the script flowing again. Good luck with your project.
The Subject adresses the Subjugatees:
You're either going to hate this a great bunch, or you're going to implode, "Oh, bite me, Hubrisman," or you'll find it so obvious and smug that we'll never be able to pinch claws again...but...
My dream job is being a Harlan Ellison.
It is the fargin' coolest job in the world, and only one person could snag it, and I GOT IT, and it is so major kewl (except for never having climbed Kilimanjaro, or getting to be a plumber) (although I was a truck driver and a tuna fisherman and a printer's devil and a bricklayer and a garbage man and a lot of other work-with-your-hands great jobs) that when I glom so many others of you talking about "dream jobs," all I want to do is yell, STOP DREAMING ABOUT IT, JERK, GO GET PREPARED ENOUGH TO LIVE IT!
See, I told you it was going to be so insufferable that you'd hate it. But what the hell did you expect from me? After all, I AM working at the best job in the world.
Humility ain't in my job description.
Humbly, but nonetheless, yr. pal, Harlan.
My dream career would be to support myself with a combination of writing and voiceover work.
I'm not sure about the difference between a writer and a w*r*i*t*e*r, except that maybe one is the movie and the other is the television series.
I had more to say, but my words are rebelling against me today.
---Peter
Fantasy jobs, huh?
I wanna be an on-staff director for a repertory company at a LORT theatre, with no budgetary constraints and a skilled company, doing 5-7 shows a year somewhere it never snows and there are no hurricanes.
Leads, anyone? I can do stage lighting design, too…
My dream job? To be a film director. I’m in the process right now of putting together a project for the fall, being written by my best friend, that I think will be a great start. We’re starting out small, filming on digital video, but I think this has the potential to be pretty good. Thank God for modern programs like iMovie, Premiere and the like. They allow a limited budgeted person, like me, to do stuff (editing, effects, etc. ) that would have been far outside of my means even five years ago.
Considering I originally wanted to be a planetary scientist when I was growing up, I find it appropriate to use another line from “Closer to Fine”: “There’s more than one answer to these questions / Pointing me in a crooked line.”
Mr. Ellison - Your comment about the uplifting ending to “I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream” reminds me of when you were speaking at Harper College in Palatine, IL, back in 1998 (?). Somebody asked the same basic question about your stories supposedly never having happy endings, and you gave a similar response to the question. Someone else in the audience then rebutted with “Who has a happy ending in that story?” I couldn’t help myself and blurted out “Why, AM of course.” I believe your response was along the lines of “No, you fool! AM is a vicious monster!”
Regards,
Joseph J. Finn
I was on a road trip with my students last week. One of them was complaining about the dreary work of music school. I told him, "There are two things that will make you hate music: Music school and the music business. If you can deal with those two things and still want nothing more than to be a musician, then it's probably your thing and nothing will stop you."
Harlan,
[MINOR SPOILER WARNING ON THE MOVIE BRAZIL IN CASE ANYONE HASN'T SEEN IT]
Do you feel that Terry Gilliam's _Brazil_ also has a happy ending somewhat similar to "I Have No Mouth?"
I've debated Brazil with other people for a while. They think the ending is unbearably depressing. And I may be dead wrong about it but I've always thought it was the sign of his ultimate victory. His superpower, as it were, was the ability to resist conformity and even if he might be left a vegetable at the end, he still won. He escaped into his own mind and the big powerful forces of conformity can never get to him. He went out on his own terms.
Of course, I could be totally wrong. And even if I'm right, maybe you don't think it's at all similar to "I Have No Mouth" but I always felt there was some resemblance between the two endings.
Just my two ¢:
I can't think of anything I enjoy doing that I'd want to be paid for. "And I went to see the doctor of philosophy; With a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee. He never did marry or see a B-grade movie; He graded my performance, he said he could see through me. I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind,
Got my paper and I was free." Indigo Girls, Closer To Fine
My four years killed my love of music. Or at least dissected it to the point where it was useless to me. It took two years of recovery before I was even able to perform in public again. Another five before I realized the difference between 'performer' and 'entertainer'. I'd much rather be the latter, and I never want the taint of money attached to it. I am afraid that doing what I love for a living would do the same thing to my passion that college did to my music.
And to the topic of being taught creative writing: It was always my understanding that this pseudo-science can not be taught. It's very easy to say what's good and what's bad, even to ennumerate the qualities of 'good' and 'bad'. I believe that it is akin to my experience with the 'technical' musician and the 'front porch' musician. The former has had years of technical training, can hit every note with precision and surety -- and yet the performance is, while not technically 'bad' -- flat. (I have a very dear friend who has a master's degree in Violin. And I can't go to her recitals anymore. Dvorák shouldn't be mishandled with such machine-like strokes.) While the latter may have never read music in their life, never done any more formal training than listening to the same 45 over and over and over, painstakingly picking out the notes on a beat-up old guitar. But when the 'front porch' musician begins to play, you feel it in your bones.
It keeps going back to that: either you feel it or you don't. Although my own personal nightmare is to be like Cigarette Smoking Man, who obviously feels *something* for his hours spent behind a Smith-Corona, and yet receives a perpetual stream of rejection notices.
C.
set C != 'guy'
set ¢ = Alt-0162
Peg - Dream job? Easy. Private Investigator, in the Marlowe mold. I've got good closure skills, a fair eye for detail, and I like to put the pieces together.
Why it wouldn't work: I'm nowhere near hard boiled enough. I'm a marshmallow. A pushover. I'm just too much of a shrinking violet to stare the hoods down, make the dames swoon, or do a short stretch in the stir for my client or my source. And I hate sudden loud noises, which makes firing a gun a bit of a problem...
Harlan here, Thursday morning:
Justin: my advice on writers' workshops is fairly simple, and is predicated on decades, I say DECADES, of experience observing, assembling, and teaching such klatches. If others--such as Ed Bryant, who has been leading similar seminars for years, in Denver and elsewhere--have differing views, I think you should encourage their entries here...up to and including reaching Ed by Web and inviting him in, to add his 2 cents. (I just noticed, this damned pc keyboard doesn't have a "cents" figure. Whatta piece'a shit! What highly-paid computer designer genius thought deleting the cents sign was a smart idea?)
To the point. The one ironclad rule when selecting a writers' workshop is this: stay away from any group being taught, or being led, by someone who does not have SUBSTANTIAL writing credits in PROFESSIONAL JOURNALS. By this I mean, don't hitch yourself to someone who had small articles, newspaper filler pieces, astrological poetry, or farm anecdotes in the Happy Valley Intelligencer and Sodality Weekly. Don't put yourself in the hands of some genteel, polite, timorous old gentleman or biddy who is afraid to be harsh and to-the-core honest. Don't go with someone as amateur as you. That is simply the lame leading the halt.
Make sure of the credentials of whoever is teaching or leading the class or group in EXHAUSTIVE DETAIL! Confront him or her, and assure yourself they are courant, salient, professional. Throw out some names, throw out some minutiae, test the knowledge. If you're smarter than the "expert," get outta there.
The same for amateur study-groups and in-home workshops. If it's nothing but people at your level or lower, then what the hell are you doing soliciting their opinions?
There's more, a lot more, in my diatribe about the value of writers' workshops, but not now. I have work to do. I will close with only this: at most colleges and universities, every English major who graduated without being arrested for dangling his or her participle, thinks s/he can W*R*I*T*E!!! The stench of blind hubris could stun a police dog. They get the gig mostly because they asked for it; or they did a fast ramadoolah past the Dean of Whatever.
Go carefully.
Yr. pal, Harlan.
Peg,
Re your fantasy job: (Hope you don't mind me jumping in.) Every day I want to be a writer. And I keep trying to make it work because the desire IS there. I suppose I'm too stubborn to think that I can't make it work. That's not saying I write every day. I do have a full-time job that gets in the way. But like many with that creative urge, the ideas keep coming, and the desire to share them is continually fueled.
I realize I'm not answering your question directly because you asked for jobs that you would love to do but you know wouldn't work. My easy answer to that question is to be a singer. But I don't have much to share about that topic. However, the topic of writing fascinates me.
I'm particularly intrigued with how similar ideas seem to spontaneously occur to people. Back in '93 I wrote Reality Fix. It wasn't very good, and I knew it. I never sought publication for it. But it had some interesting ideas. Years later I read Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson and was surprised to see some of the same ideas I had incorporated into Reality Fix. Now, granted that's not saying much because both stories deal with virtual reality which was hot back then. There's only so much you can do with it, and similar ideas are bound to occur within that field.
But one of my favorite authors in addition to HE is Terry Bisson. This man blows me away. Not only because his stories are so interesting and compelling, but he seems to have invaded my mind. His stories contain ideas and associations that don't typically occur to everyone as they go about their daily business. Yet I continually find him juxtaposing bizarre ideas and circumstances that have occurred to me as well. I'm not sure where I'm going with this topic because it's so ephemeral, but perhaps greater minds can weigh in on the subject and extrapolate even more. Just some thoughts on this Thursday afternoon.
In general...
Peg, I have always wanted to be a stage actor; more on that some other time.
I enjoyed your response to the question regarding a writer's longevity, as well as your observation regarding eulogies and tributes.
Regarding the former, some people like the predictable, some like to be challenged and surprised. One of my other vices is Robert Parker; I immensely enjoy the relationships of Spenser, Susan, Hawk, Henry Cimoli, Martin Quirk, etc. I occasionally go back to the bookshelf for “Early Autumn.” My son tells me that was an important book for him as well. Sometimes we want to be challenged, other times we’re seeking to be entertained, a little “brain candy” (No, Dr. Lecter, put that back. Bad, bad serial killer.). Someone once gave me a novelization of “The Shadow” movie that starred Alec Baldwin. I liked the film, and couldn’t believe how the person who attempted to transform the screenplay to book form could make it so boring and incomprehensible.
(BTW Xanadu - good description of the difference between someone who wants to be a writer and someone who just HAS to write; also glad to see the “HimsElf” tag gaining in popularity; well done, well done indeed).
A writer does not have to be associated with one genre, one THING, unless he/she chooses to narrow his/her focus to one area or topic (the categorizations and labels just make it easier for the guys and gals in Marketing, not to mention the folks who stock the shelves at the big book stores). A lot depends on style, topic, level of detail, the format the writer feels most comfortable with (from novels to short-short stories). That has to be part of the appeal of the short-story format; to be able to sit down with notepad/typewriter/keyboard and say “I feel like writing a humorous / tragic / fantasy / mystery / ‘none of the above’ story today.” Any resulting collections can have a connecting theme, or no association other than who they were written by
(BTW Part 2 Cavalaxis & your question ”Mr. Forrester: To the question of longevity, is that ‘quality’ what separates literature from pulp fiction?” Perhaps “level of quality” is what you’re going for. Hopefully without getting too Robert Pirsig, everything possesses quality/qualities and too often there is the tendency to automatically assign a positive connotation to the word “quality”.)
Regarding the latter topic. When I began sharing Harlan’s writings with my wife, one of the phrases that stuck with her was, “No one should go into the ground with too few words.” The thoughts, the eloquence, the emotions seem to come from a place that not everyone who encounters him has access to.
His recent posting on Brother Theodore. The words about his mother in “Sleepless Nights…” The “Edge in My Voice” columns on Norman Mayer and George Pal. The intro to “Angry Candy”. The references over the years to Kitty Genovese, Luke Easter, Lyman Bostock, John Lennon and many, too many, victims of random violence. Each had a profound impact on his life. Their influence has ranged from decades of friendship and/or professional association to people described in a news item. Whether for their nobility, their sacrifice, and their reminder of what is important. Whether pointing out the heights humanity is capable of reaching, or the depths of our depravity along with an urgent, “We must never let this happen again.” He wants to ensure that they are remembered. Occasionally, there is some mea culpa on his part - “I should have done more” or “I wanted to do more, and there wasn’t a goddamn thing I could do.” - but there is always, “This is someone you should know about.”
Sheryl - you’re like my wife; you’re not a politician, you are, and always will be, an educator. And I guaran-damn-tee you that someone is better off for having had you as their teacher.
I've given up explaining all my flippy-fingered moves. As in it should have read "I didn't find the latter offensive", "was my engineering self", and "finally piped up with". Seems I can't get anything straight these days.
Boy, has it been a day and a half today. Not just today, the whole week. First time I've had thoughts about could I find just anything else to do for a living - in my company or out - besides what I do right now.
So what's your secret fantasy job? (besides polishing Barney's head, that is). What's the one thing you'd love to do but know that in reality, if you're honest with yourself, it just wouldn't work? For example, folks have mentioned that although someone may desire to write, they may not be cut out to be a w*r*i*t*e*r. I know Harlan's admitted if he weren't a writer, he'd be a fix-it man or a plumber or something similar.
For me, it would be singing and dancing. I've studied instrumental music, I can carry a tune and I can sing in key. And I love to sing and do so regularly in the car and in church (where it's safe!), even do the harmonies. The sad fact is that my voice just isn't very pleasant to hear for the most part. Some things can be overcome with training, but I lack the natural vocal qualities that would allow me to even attempt to make a living as a singer.
As for dancing - I got rythym, love to dance, enjoy dancing to just about any kind of music (even country, to which I will not listen) because I love it. But I'm not coordinated. Meant to go right, went left instead. Not to mention being short and pudgy - generally not desirable in the dance world. Flexibility, agility, strength - if I worked at it full time I could develop these. But coordination isn't usually artificial.
So what's yours????
"...program you have IS self-exploration..."
Miserable betraying fingertips...
"...program you have IS self-exploration..."
Miserable betraying fingertips...
Justin - Having supped from the same trough at SUNY Binghamton with Xanadu, let me offer a true story from my own trip through the creative writing program: one of my higher level professors was a professional writer. He brought to the party a few books of some minor acclaim, an anthology he'd edited (which, of course, was used as a textbook for the class), and the writing philosophy from Hell. To him, it was not writing unless the editors of the New Yorker would toss garlands about your head and prostrate themselves before you, mewling requests to put your words into print. This man looked askance at genre writing as if he was going to get herpes from handling the manuscript, and heaven forbid if you mentioned you wanted to write screenplays. He had nothing nice to say about Harlan Ellison (which didn't surprise me, between the genre associations and the television work), but the day he flat-out dismissed Ray Bradbury's entire body of work as, and I quote, "childish" was the day I understood how much of a Grade A bozo this guy was. He was the only one I had as an instructor who approached the craft of writing with an elitist smirk, that attitude which intends from the first word to create "art" or "literature" or "symbolic subtext" without necessarily having anything of substance to say.
It was a crapshoot throughout my college career - from the jerk mentioned above to a class act like John Vernon, who really got us interested in exploring our voices without trying to change them into his own in the process (he still teaches at the university and his recent "A Book of Reasons" was a fascinating read) and every variation in between. I suspect that it's a crapshoot with just about any creative writing department out there, because individual professors will always bring in their biases along with the methodology and lesson plan.
I think that writing programs DO offer a valuable experience - but based on my experience, the advice I'd offer is thus: take every professor with a grain of salt until you get a feel for where they're coming from. Learn from the workshops. I actually discovered more about writing from my college peers than from most of my professors - both from their critiques of what I wrote and from their own works, missteps, and moments of brilliance. And ultimately, if you must write, write, even if the program throws up obstacles instead of insights, even if the only program you have self-exploration of the way other writers use language and the 6 - 9pm block every night, set aside to hone your craft. Mechanics - grammar, structure, tense - can be taught. What you bring to the mechanics - heart, soul, experience - can't be taught, but certainly need to be exercised.
Harlan,
Susan is welcome and I'm sure she'll want to verify it legally . . .
Justin -
I'm gonna be blunt. Don't go into Creative Writing any deeper than as a minor. Take some courses, but don't make it your major unless you plan on going all the way and get a doctorate in the field to eventually teach. (But, if you want to do that maybe we can stage some kind of intervention...) Why? Because frankly, it's a complete and utter waste of time to have a BA in Writing. Ain't nobody interested in that particular major in the "real world". And the mags you want to submit to will be impressed by one thing and one thing only - the work itself. A nicely decorated sheepskin is irrelevant.
Two - the quality of a department is largely based on the quality of a few, individual teachers. If they move on, the department will certainly coast on its laurels for a few years before the reality of the situation is noted. (Re: SUNY Binghamton for several years after the passing of John Gardner) (You might guess that I attended the aforemntioned institution during that period - you would be correct The department was in chaos. There was no unifying vision and the quality of the individual professors was so wildly variable it was a joke. End mini-rant)
You want something to head off encroaching boredom? Take a whole lotta different courses. Every imaginable subject - Zoology, Computer Science, Honors Physics, Geology, Philosophy, Statistical Analysis, and on and on.... Stay an extra year, if you can afford it. Sample the wide diversity of offerings that are available to you - drink it in. I stress this even more strongly if you want to be a writer. Breadth of experience will give you a better background for the craft than any quantity of "writing classes".
I heard the man HimsElf respond to a young man's question by suggesting you avoid trying to be a "writer" altogether. He said, for one, there's no money in it. And two - it's a hard, lonely craft with so little chance of recognition, approbation, or even satisfaction that it isn't worth pursuing. But, as I think Jim said below - if there's no possible way for you to knock the muse off your shoulder. You feel compelled to go out and write. Your brain is exploding from the pressure of the ever-growing mass of ideas waiting to be unleashed upon the paper or screen. If you can not possibly go through a single day without jotting something down - then at least do yourself the favor of getting some "real world" skills and ability. They will broaden your experience, making you a better writer - and, you can always fall back on bricklaying if the writing gig don't work out.
Well there, I think I've crushed enough spirit for one day. Be seeing you.
A couple more phrases I'd forgotten....
"I'm such a bad liar I couldn't pull the wool over a sheep." (I'd never heard it before I's said it, but it seems so obvious that I can't bring myself to claim it as original. And I really am a bad liar).
"Well, wouldn't it just suck if we were all the same?" and "Be still, woman!" - both from a former boss, and no, I didn't find the latter wasn't offensive, it was actually a sign of how comfortable we were with each other. My ability to ramble on nonstop, without breathing, for lengths of time that would make a free diver jealous (despite the fact that I cannot actually hold my breath for very long), does not come across in written format. Except possibly for that sentence. Anyway, he was operations background, I was my engineering, and we would get into it, him telling me how some of the data was saying one thing, me explaining why the physics simply didn't support that, and in my engineering passion I would go on and on... and he would finally pipe with "Be Still, Woman!" My husband even uses it now.
He (my boss) had a ton of great sayings, something like a list of redneck proverbs. I used to have a copy, they were hilarious. If anyone's interested drop me some electrons and I'll see if I can dig it up.
Peg
Harlan - I'll bring the book back for you and we'll work out the details then. I'm set to return on 2 May but I might spend a week in Spain.
In the meantime, thank YOU for turning my attentions to Mr. Kersh,
Adam
So here I am, on this early Thursday morning, delirious with fatigue thanks to a third night's sleep wasted due to the nocturnal Greeks upstairs, unable to go to work due to said sleep-deprivation, so I come to visit the ol' Ellison message board.
By gum, it's gone crazy in here!
It's fantastic to see so many people posting so many well-reasoned words. Ellison RulZ! (Cough).
Anyhoo, since yesterday there's seems to have been an explosion of postings. Whilst I'm trying to assimilate every topic that's being discussed, I'll reply to Sheryl's comments about reading being a chore for some.
For all my sins, I'm a videogame journalist with a large British publisher, currently working as an Editor on a website. Now, I run a weekly opinion column, one topic of which sparked a lot of commentary a few weeks back. To be blunt, and simplify what I said, I suggested that perhaps reading a book could be better for your brain than sitting slack-jawed and zombie-like in front of the TV screen (a dangerous thing for a man charged with representing the Playstation age to say, I know. Hey, I walk the tightrope). Whilst the majority of the feedback I got was divided into "You're an idiot, videogames are brilliant and books are rubbish" (well-reasoned, no?), and (as an example) "The Lord of The Rings is an infinitely more imaginative and immersive work than The Legend of Zelda" - one reader actually quoted Harlan E. quoting Isaac Asimov in "Revealed at Last...", so there's hope yet - a few actually pointed out that, for some people, reading is a chore, it's difficult, and it's not something that rewards them. As a medium, the book don't work none for 'em. And videogames otherwise give them a 'creative' release - ie, it allows them to experience an imaginative world or fantasy, visually and tangibly - that they simply can't get from books.
I had not thought of this. But videogames? I see 10-20 new games a week, and 99% of everything this new medium can offer is rubbish. Obviously this is a blanket query - games are as diverse as you can imagine, running the gamut from viscera-loaded trash to elegant role-playing to logic-based puzzling - but I'd be interested to hear what everyone thinks of videogames as an alternative 'text'. Videogames are still very much in their infancy, the majority pandering to sensation and exploitation, but everything must evolve sooner or later. We hope.
The very best response I received, however, was this: "Neither was reading designed to make your face look good". Priceless.
Mr. Ellison: Hell, I'd pay for you and Mrs. Ellison to fly over to Blighty myself if I could. Just keep us lowly Brits informed for when you come over for 'Demon...'; we'll make your stay a pleasant one.
Alejandro: A bit late with this, so apologies, but well done!
Well, keep well, everyone
Best regards
Jes
Regarding some earlier postings, I think the need to have someone tell you you have talent as a writer is a symptom of youth. When I was in my teens, I tended to mystify the whole idea of writing in the way Harlan describes.
The thing that saved me was journalism. When you have to produce on a regular basis, it forces you to abandon your pretensions. You discover the pleasure of the active voice. I think it's no coincidence that Hemingway, a former journalist, is also one of our most concise writers.
I believe if you really want to write, you will do it, even if the rest of the world tells you you're wasting your time. After all, you're not doing it for them; you're doing it because you have something to say. A side benefit of abandoning theory and putting your butt in the chair is that your hero-worship disappears. You begin to see writers as craftspersons, instead of Lords of the Ivory Tower. It's even more amazing when you realize that the art that moves you comes from the simple hard work of ordinary people like yourself.
Turns out this isn't gonna happen how I planned it ...
Lemme backtrack: Hello everybody! I'm sorry if I come across as inappropriately friendly, but I've been reading this board for quite a while and I feel like I already know a lot of you guys ... so any faux rapport you find in this message is not intended as such, and if it seems a little odd coming from a stranger, I don't blame ya for seeing it that way.
Apologies out of the way ... I was gonna wait to post here. Until I was done moving, until I'd heard back from DC comics and could say either "Hello everybody! And by the way I work for DC comics ..." or "Hey everybody, can I borrow five bucks?", until I'd called up old friends I've gone too long out of touch with, etc. etc. ... but then Jim sucker-punched me with that (even tangentially) music-related question and so here I am. I never can resist the music.
Jim's question is fascinating to me on more than one level: For starters, I once idly aspired to be "the Harlan Ellison of music" (that was before I realized I wanted to be the Sam Reed of music), so I'd already done some woolgathering along those lines. And being a sucker for intellectual discussion (particulary -- you guessed it -- when it comes to music), I'm interested in hearing everyone else's thoughts. And as if that weren't enough, we know that Harlan listens to music while writing ... in fact I think I remember somewhere in An Edge in My Voice him saying something to the effect that it's hard for him to write without listening to music (feel free to correct my memory if necessary, folks). So I, for one, would be interested in comparing what we think goes with his stories to what he actually listened to while writing them ...
So that said, I'm sorry Jim, I'm having trouble limiting myself to just one story. I just can't pick. Obviously the stories must be approached individually (what works for Palladin of the Lost Hour won't work for The Whimper of Wipped Dogs), but they must also be considered as a whole. This (for me) makes it much easier to attack:
"Harlan-Ellison-style-music" would in my mind have to be a collage of mid-period Gyorgy Ligeti (who, at least in the photo I have access to, sure looks like he's good at getting into mischief (and whose music I commend to your attention if you have not yet heard it; utterly unlike any music that ever went before, and yet *so right*, *so* unearthly beautiful) works such as Lux Aeterna and Atmospheres, what I've heard of Karel Husa (who, come to think of it, came to my attention via An Edge In My Voice -- thanks for the tip, Harlan), early to mid-stravinsky (post-Firebird but including Petrouchka, Rite of Spring, etc. to maybe as late as Pulcinella), sporadic chunks of Bob Dylan's oeuvre (including of course Blonde on Blonde, HIghway 61 Revisited, etc. but excluding, for instance, stuff from his "country" period) (and I'm gonna pretend that this late in the evening I'm confident I spelled "oeuvre" correctly), and even some things by John Williams (though I know some people have reservations about him).
Why do I say this? Simply because they produce in me the same effects as reading Harlan's stories do. I go to them for the same reasons, they feed the same needs, I admire them for the same reasons. Same response, different stimulus.
And now we can extend the discussion to even more mediums! So let me be the first to mention Joan Miro, Wassily Kandinski, Rothko, Pollack, some guy named Jacek Yerka, but not Jasper Johns ... sorry.
And while I'm talking yer ear off -- which I feel no guilt over since I know you're not reading this anyway -- I might as well address the long-ago question about comic books by saying that Green Lantern (third series) nos. 1-8 are my favorite of all time. Partly because they were an introduction, and partly because thanks to Gerard Jones they're better than most of the stuff out there. And if you read his articles at the back of GL: Mosaic I'm sure you'll come to the same conclusion I did: We've caught you, Mr. Jones; you've obviously read some Ellison ...
Oh yeah, and I just thought of something in relation to a comment I made that I decided not to include (how's that for unnecessarily enigmatic?): Has anyone read the introduction to Pot Stories for the Soul? I once convinced a friend to read some Ellison based on the merits of that intro alone.
Yeah, I think it's definitely time for me to shut up now ...
Sam
"Ain't it just like the night, to play tricks when you're trying to be so quiet?"
"My new rule is that if a comment isn't helpful--i.e., if it's neither insightful nor (most importantly) *helpful*"
Let's all have a good laugh at my expense now...argh. Proofreading...yeah, that would help. (It would be, ah, full of help. There must be a word for that...)
Justin: About writing programs...I'm concentrating (read: "minoring") in the creative writing program at Columbia. Hm, actually, let's not start in medias res; the first writing course I took was in eleventh grade. The teacher was quite good, but imagine any low-level writing workshop stereotype and this group matched it like a post-Industrial Revolution London moth on a smokestack. Cruddy, unconvincing love stories. Poorly disguised (i.e. name-swaps and not much else) real-life experiences. And the "criticism"--well, I think "backpatting love-fest" is the best description I can come up with barring the overused (but not inaccurate) and somewhat vulgar metaphor of mutual masturbation.
After that class, I formed a little maxim that I swore I would follow--the Golden Rule of writing classes. Which is this: Forget about the &!@$#@! Golden Rule! I think on some level, at least with amateur writers (most likely with professionals, too), there is a yearning to be told that REALLY, you're GOOD, you've got, ya know, TALENT! This is invariably met with reddened cheeks, a hesitant, downcast gaze, maybe a little stammering, and, of course, the delicious private thought: "Woooo!!! I'm the freakin' MAN!" This is often followed, in one's own room, by fist pumping and repeated pantomimes involving licked fingers and sizzling noises. Uh, not like I ever did that.
Back to the point: after three years and with two college-level writing classes behind me, I think enough adolescent ego (I'm 19) has leaked from my person so that I don't need to follow my Rule any longer--that is, I don't need the adulation (however insincere) of a writing class, therefore I can be critical with my own remarks.
Moving along (off the topic of my own ego, which I now realize was surely NOT the subject of your question), I'd have to say that I was a bit upset at the quality of the intro- and mid-level writing courses here. They were satisfying only because the profs' written comments were helpful. Most class comments were vague and forgettable. My new rule is that if a comment isn't helpful--i.e., if it's neither insightful nor (most importantly) *helpful*, I nod politely and mentally whistle Dixie.
I'm hoping that the upper-level courses really weed out the creative writing pool. I would say that, at my level, half the kids are on the low side of mediocre, a quarter are rough but have some talent, and the last quarter have some talent and have been working with it long enough to turn out some decent, polished work. The only point that continues to irk me is one that harkens back to my high-school writing class. It's just that people--even the few good writers in these groups--are really devoid of imagination. I know my own perspective might be colored by a childhood of SF/F, but fer chrissakes, sometimes I just want to scream, "Hey folks...ehhh, I was wondering if maybe you all could think of some plots that AREN'T either A) "The Relationship": boy and girl have a conversation about how they broke up/are gonna break up/fucked/are gonna fuck. Often set at college frat parties or on the outside porches of undisclosed suburban locations, at night... or B) "The Penis Party": this one's from the guys and involves...guess what? A bunch of college guys drinking beer and ruminating, either in a basement, at a party, at some nondescript outdoor location, or some logical combination of these, where the topic of conversation often pertains to situation described in A)?" And so my stories about Ukranian vampirism and brain weapons get a lot of head scratching, and not really for the right reasons.
I understand that the MFA program at CU is quite good and difficult to get into, but I'm not sure what I'll be up to after graduation. It is my fondest wish (after the gemstone-crusted banana split) that I could one day take part in a workshop like Clarion when someone like Mr. Ellison is instructing. A pipe dream, maybe, but I was never any good at that damn game anyway.
Jeff: Don't blame the English teacher-blame the department chair and the principal. I fought the "The Scarlet Letter" tooth and nail my last year teaching; finally, I told my classes, "Get the Cliff Notes, we're only spending a week on this crap, I don't care WHO wrote the damn thing, it's annoying me." And it left room at the end of the year for a 2 week unit on late 20th century short stories, featuring guess who?, OSC, and Ursula LeGuin amoung others. Was the vice principal in charge of curriculum ever pissed off? You could have poached an egg in the steam coming out of her ears. Innovation in teaching any course is completely subject to the school-politics motivations of the department heads and the administration. Teachers often have less say in what they teach, and how they teach it, than you have as a student about learning it. Half the time, the "unit" you're given as a student is pulled from a department file and given to the teacher a week before it's handed out to you. Been there, been done to. They sent me off to 10 meetings (one every month) to learn the newest, bestest, brightest new theories, and then refuse to let me use them. Any wonder teachers quit?
Jim - musical Harlan? I'm gonna have to give that some thought.
Harlan - thanks for the response. I didn't mean to imply that I thought your stories were brutal, only that I didn't personally glean from them the same acknowledgement of human nobility that comes across in your eulogies. I'd also agree that there are a number of your stories which contain some positive note. I read Icognita, Inc. recently and it is a stellar example.
Perhaps it's because that tone is more obvious in the eulogies. As my better half would tell ya, I'm not good at subtle, I've usually gotta be hit over the head with it, possibly multiple times at that. (I know, I know, you told me already that your stories aren't intended to be subtle or have hidden meanings. It's me, not your writing. Think of it in terms of the reading rant that Sheryl posted, I'm somewhere well to the left on the distribution curve for pulling meaing out of writing). Or I'm just a glass half empty kinda person, and the postive imprint doesn't stays with me or perhaps those stories don't impact me as much as the less hopeful tales. I'll go back and re-read a few.
Sorry about my confusion the other post. Chalk it up to overwork and trying to scan through these things at a mile a minute. Glad we're on the same page. No harm, no foul?
Time to go to work....
Peg
You wouldn't think trying to communicate with two parakeets and a rabbit by way of very emphatically blinking one's eyes would get one very far, would you?
On Jim Hess' question: Though I tend to find everything from folk to classical (excepting that obnoxious, soul-killing "today's hottest music" junk now played on most FM stations) enjoyable on some level, my knowledge of names and styles is tragically limited--I don't know how Mr. Ellison's work would translate musically, but I betcha there'd be a shocking number of instruments and a small army of musicians involved; and for some listeners, if I may be so trite, deafness may result.
I've encountered two kinds of longevity, where writers are concerned. The first is, essentially, a measure of the passion the writer feels for her or his work and the skill with which she/he goes about practicing the art; the second is involuntary (despite what I'm about to say, this is not necessarily a bad thing)--the foisting of literature on unsuspecting English students. Mayhap English is simply a difficult subject to teach effectively, but I've run into many a teacher who didn't know when the line between exhaustive but enlightening discussion and overkill had been crossed. More whine, anyone...?
~Jeff
I just checked out the chatroom link at the top of the page and it would appear as though the creator of the page and I have a similar opinion of internet chat/board behavior. Sorry to rip off your joke man, it was entirely unintentional!
J
I've been visiting the Webderland for quite some time, but I never visited the bulletin board until the new link was recently created. For reasons that I clearly never bothered to fully think through, I had assumed that all internet bulletin boards exclusively housed the ceaseless blitherings of illiterates. I'm not entirely certain of what I expected the content of this board to be, but I somehow managed to assume that it would be little different from any other internet board I've ever been to. My fear, I suppose, was that most posts would tend to go along these lines:
Harlin Elisin rulz all! The Invisible Man was kewl.
-boarduser69
U SUK! I HAVE NO MOUTH AND I MUST SCREAM IS THE BEST LOOZER.
-ellisonfan2000
[ZOT]
-Harlan Ellison
('ZOT' is just my feeble representation of whatever verbal ordnance I suspect Harlan doubtlessly unleashes when confronted with that kind of blithering stupidity, leaving little more than a smoking crater in the place of the unfortunate victim)
~sigh~ I should have known better and expected more from the Webderland board. Sorry folks.
I've very much enjoyed reading everyone's posts this afternoon, and I'm delighted to see that Harlan stops by frequently these days. I especially enjoyed Harlan's observations about those of us who grew up reading his work at a young age (I just turned twenty, and have been an Ellison reader for going on six years now).
As I'm sure most of you will agree, reading the average Ellison book provides far superior instruction in the craft of writing than any textbook ever does. So I was certainly kicked out of my fair share of high school classes, and sundry other school-related writing programs, due to writing that apparently fell somewhere outside of the antiseptic box most public schools prefer to keep everything in.
One theory of mine is that my instructors were just threatened by the use of big words I learned from Harlan, which they didn't understand. I suspect that the subsequent feelings of inadequacy the big, scary words provoked was the true reason why I got ejected from many a classroom ass over teakettle.
Anyway, I was pleased to see this subject brought up, because I am considering distracting myself from my increasingly ho hum college routine next semester by focusing on Creative Writing. Even so, the horrid experiences I've had in the past with writing programs has made me wary of doing so, though I've heard nothing but good about the program I would be entering (at the University of Arizona). Since you all seem to be a highly thoughtful and literate bunch, I thought I might try to begin a brief discussion of writing programs. I'm not necessarily looking for advice, I'm just curious to gather up some of your thoughts. I suspect that most of you probably know whereof you speak when it comes to good writing (after all, each of us really digs Ellison), and that many of you may even be veterans of the occasional writing program.
So what do you think, generally speaking of course? Do you think writing programs (particularly at the university level) have any value, or are just stifling environments designed to produce cookie-cutter dreck? Just searching for a few educated opinions on this one.
'Night.
J
Ellison, increment 3:
Cavalaxis: I'm pleased you found some value in my paltry psycholiterary observations. I, of course, preen at your astonishment that I was able to use the "tells" in your posting to delve you correctly. For my "method," consult Conan Doyle's "The Red Headed League." It's why I was so successful in finding and developing new writers when Robin Scott Wilson engaged me as one of the first teachers who founded the Clarion Writers' Workshop. These days I'm too, hell I dunno what, too SOMEDAMNTHING TOO MUCH for either of the Clarions. They have very litle sense of history, barely remember Robin or Glenn Wright or Leonard or much of the struggle and opprobrium through which we loyally worked to keep the concept and the workshop alive. Every year they engage writers--many of whom I helped train--and only contact me when they want money.
But. Back to the point. If I was on the money, I'm pleased. That you accepted the observations with an open mind is even MORE pleasing; and marks you a guy who definitely fits in here.
Peg: You did, indeed, misread my posting. What I wrote (you could go back and check it) was: "...my misunderstanding that you were a displaced Yank, and not a Limey." I'm old, Peg; I'm not senile.
To all of you: My fervent thanks, to those of you who went after Larry Young and got him back in touch with us. So, okay, you haven't found me an Electrical Wiring Genius or Electronics Whiz who'll come to my house, but what the hell...one outta two is tragic.
So this homeless woman approaches a slim expensively-dressed young woman just outside Henri Bendel in Beverly Hills. And she says, "Can you help me, I haven't eaten in three weeks." And the debutante says, "Migawd, I wish I had YOUR self-control!"
Yr. pal, Harlan.
To be uttered Elephantman-style at maximum volume:
"I am not a/an ___________. I am a human being!"
Favorite blank-fillers include Republican, Cat-lover, Marketing Rep and Rap Artist.
Helloooooo, everyone. Back from turning myself nice anda brown t'day in the high altitudes whilst bird watching and rock climbing. (Though not at the same time; you could hurt yourself doing that.)
It may be forward (and if it is, chalk it up to aspiring bad manners), but my two cents on the writing issue by way of what Mr. Ellison already said to Mr. Thompson: If you want to find out if you are a Writer (or even a writer), have Mr. Ellison do to you what he did to me in Denver a few years back: Have him hang you up by the frayed edges of your already tortured soul (I assume your soul is tortured; better be, if you have serious intentions of being a writer (or a Writer)), then be subjected to the horrible thing that is Garth Brooks while Mr. Ellison teases your literary aspirations and desires with the red, very sharp end of a poker for, oh, four or five fours.
IF at the end of this experience (and lemme tell ya: It is; but worth every penny one might lay out) you have any hesitations about being a writer (or a Writer), well, then, there it is: You ain't a writer. Or a Writer. And odds are good you won't be.
A summation, then (from, oh, "Prayers To Broken Stones" by Dan Simmons, introduction by Harlan Ellison): To be a writer one must hear the music of writing, the song of the words: The rhythms, the voices, the tones, the beats, the styles: Here 5/4 time, there 2/4. Here sotto voce, there almost overwhelming.
If you don't hear the music, well, Borders is hiring.
Now. Having said that, let me suggest a topic (like one is actually needed; just LOOK at all the posts): If you picked one Harlan Ellison story (fiction, please), how would you catagorize it in musical terms? Example: "Shattered Like A Glass Goblin".
Jazz? R & B? Bee-bop? Spiritual? Something else?
Pencils up. Begin.
I'm off to slather Aloe on my sunburn on my, ah. . . never mind.
Until next time. . .
Bill: I think writers who last all have one thing in common: they have the ability to communicate Truth through mastery of their craft. They may choose from any number of genres, but at the bottom lies the ability to reveal some facet of something approaching a Platonic Ideal, I think. There are pretty solid craftsmen out there, and many of them last for some awhile, maybe even the space of their lives; but craft alone doesn’t stand the test of time. A couple of reasonable comparisons, I think, will illustrate my thought more clearly. Shakespeare will always be part of the performing arts landscape. David Kelley is at the mercy of his latest screenplay; when he no longer writes them, he’ll disappear from public consciousness faster than goosesh**on ice. I greatly fear that John D. McDonald, as much as I love him (and Travis McGee) may be more craft than art; I haven’t seen any reissues since his passing. Dashiell Hammett, though, has new printings all the time. Asimov’s “Foundation” will, I think, outlast by a century or two Piers Anthony’s “Xanth.” All these writers are good to excellent craftsmen IMO, but only some of them will last beyond their lives. That, I think, is another mark of a lasting writer-he/she creates work that lasts beyond his/her life.
John Pickett/Peter’s comments: Harry Potter aside, I think it’s harsh to tag most anything that gets “media promotion” as somehow unworthy. Agreed, there’s a lot of it I won’t touch. But such a generalization makes me uncomfortable. It smacks of an unreasoned judgement. Consider, please, a mini-rant from a former English teacher:
We are an exceptional lot here. Our patron author is not an easy read for Average Joe; and not only do we read HE’s work, we think about it, and we choose to discuss both his work and other topics, and it’s generally done in a reasonably coherent and measured way, with more than ordinary attention to clarity of thought and grammatical rectitude. If I were to take a survey of general IQ from everyone here, (and I’m not looking down my nose at anyone, nor putting it near anyone’s fundament when I say this) I would lay good odds that most of us range beyond the first standard deviation on the Stanford Binet, or very close to that deviation line.
But what that means is that we are, natively, a little smarter than Average Joe here; and there are about the same number below Joe who are a little below him on the curve as those of us are above him on it. And then factor in the disaster that’s occurred in public education over the last 30 years-I recall clearly being “mainstreamed” in the 4th grade and having my barely challenging 9th grade reading book snatched away and having the 4th grade one I’d read at the end of the first grade shoved in my hand-so there are a lot of average and smarter Joes out there whose education has handicapped them in terms of what they’re capable of handling as reading material. This limits even further the people at our level or higher on the ‘brain mountain’ and who are reading work of Harlan’s caliber.
The people further down the mountain aren’t reading the best stuff, but a lot of them are reading the best stuff they can handle, given their native abilities and their very real, if unacknowledged, educational handicaps. Make all the fun of Star Trek and its permutations you like, but realize that there are many, many people for whom it constitutes a measurable philosophical leap forward-for lots, it’s as far as they can go, so they stay there. (Admittedly, a great many are just lazy and stay because it’s easy and friendly there. And I confess that I’m one of them sometimes.) Yes, Louis L’Amour westerns are formula and Harlequin Romances are trite; but huge masses of people read them and a lot of them do it because that’s where their brains/skills allow them to read at. Feel lucky that most of them read AT ALL, given how hard it’s been made for them to learn to in the last 30 years. (Or are you unclued as to the rise in the functional illiteracy rate and its relationship to whole language reading strategies?)
And there are children reading a lot of this media promoted stuff as the first steps up that brain mountain I referred to. My own tremendous affection and interest in history is built, in no small part, on those Barbara Cartland/Jude Devereaux/Joanna Lindsay bodice ripper romances I was devouring at 11, 12 and 13; I wanted to find out what REALLY happened, and so I started looking things up. I’ll bet some of you out there have a similar genesis for something you’re fond of; you comics aficionados, in particular. For kids, most of these books are like Hanon or Czerny piano exercises for reading; there’s no real melody or substance to them, but they strengthen muscles and hone skills that you need if you’re going to play Mozart-or read Harlan Ellison, or Dante, or Shakespeare. Sure only a few people reach the point where they can play Mozart (even badly), but the piano lessons are worthwhile in themselves, even if you abandon them early. In the same way, so are lesser books of some intrinsic worth, if of less value than “MacBeth.”
Don’t read what you find beneath you. But bag the judgemental “it’s just crap” position. For a lot of people, probably the majority of readers, that book you so disdain represents a very real accomplishment, even if it’s mostly the accomplishment of taking the time to read it. And-back to the top-a lot of them wouldn’t be bothering to read it if it wasn’t media hyped. The simple act of reading a book, any book, makes it more likely that you will do it again. The more often you do it, the better the odds, incrementally, that you’re going to find your way to something of greater substance. If I had only read 500 books in my life, the odds of one of them being one of Harlan’s is infinitesimally tiny-Mr. Spock probably couldn’t figure it. Reading 15,000 books makes those odds better, but still on the very, very small side. Reading 50,000 might make it a remote likelihood that you’d read something, maybe in an anthology. The odds it will call to you are even smaller than finding it in the 500 books to begin with.
I read somewhere in an education class once long ago that most people read something like 200 books, including textbooks, in their lives. This is because for most of them, reading is very difficult, even physically taxing work, causing eyestrain and headaches. So don’t just dismiss what they are reading because it’s not what you’d read. Just consider how truly lucky you are (and in some portion it IS luck that you’ve had whatever great teachers or influences you’ve had that led you here) how VERY lucky you are that you aren’t one of them. We should all think about that the next time each of us picks up that book we take for granted.
Rant over. Thanks for your support. Oh, that reminds me! Two more catch phrases cropped up with a little additional thought:
My redskin Papa’s warning to unwary pisser-offers: “You’re messing with the wrong god damned Indian, paleface.” (Always In-din, not In-jun. Made a difference to Papa, so I want to present it correctly!)
And I use Dorothy Parker’s best line all the time: “What fresh hell is this?!”
Ellison, increment 2:
Peg: Susan says the check arrived, and to thank you ever so much. By the way...personally signed (by me) bread'n'butter thankyou notes will soon be going out to everyone who sent contributions to KICK Internet Piracy. (And, boy, has there been a snowfall! You people are aces.)
Shane: Susan got your postings about the lost HERCazoids. She thanks you most regally.
Finder & Alex: "Your mother wasn't a glass blower." I got it.
After one of the gang recognized it as a "get out of the way of the screen" (which goes back 'way before tv to the movie theater in which some yotz stood up and blocked the picture)I transposed the remark to align with the equivalent from MY day (which was partially refered to by a later posting), which was "You may not be a window, but you sure are a pane."
Adam: yes, by all means, please please please bring the new edition of FOWLER'S END with the Moorcock intro. I'll happily reimburse you in coin of the realm, books you don't have, or books you want signed.
I shall return anon. Yr. pal, Harlan.
Geezus, Peg, said Harlan:
Why in the world would you postulate a tongue-lashing from me, just for asking a polite and insightful question? You guys have GOT to knock off this impending-ogre bullshit. I only go after someone when s/he has insulted me, is being duplicitious, or has presented him/herself in such a way as to poke me with a stick, in hopes that I WILL demonstrate my darker nature.
No, Peg, it's a perfectly appropriate question to ask, and I'll answer it thus:
If you read "I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream" you will likely perceive it as an example of my dark view of Much of Humanity. But when I am asked about the story, I say--and have been saying for more than 30 years--that it has a positive and upbeat ending. And to this response, the questioner reacts with shock and disbelief, as if I were putting him or her on. "How can you SAY that?" s/he'll demand, affronted. "The protagonist ends up a gobbet of protoplasm, without a mouth even to rail against the horror of an eternal lifetime of pain and anguish in the belly of the mad god AM! This is is an unending nightmare, a future of Job-like enormity! How can you say it's positive and upbeat?"
To which I respond (he said) that it demonstrates the godlike nobility of the human spirit; that even at final moments, when Ted understands completely what lies in store for him, he frees the others from their travail by damning himself to an eternity alone with AM, whose rage, now, will be more demonic and inventively hideous than anything experienced in the nightmare previously. But he does it, he mercy-kills them, demonstrating a magnificence of humane behavior, knowing his hell would have been more supportable, more bearable, if he at least had companions. But he damns himself to hell, ALONE, to save the others. This is, in my hornbook, a positive, ennobled, magnificent statement of the godlike quality of the human race.
I tell you this--something I've written elsewhere on more than one occassion--but apparently no one is listening--to answer your question anent the "seeming" incongruity of tone-of-voice between my eulogies for those at whose passing I weep, and the general consumption stories.
Well, all I can say is that the passion I bring to the one, is the same depth of passion and humanity I bring to the others. But form, as I keep saying, does follow function; and the tone for a dirge of pain and longing is usually too bathetic for a piece of fiction. But I suggest you try "On the Downhill Side," "Lonelyache," "A Friend to Man," "Adrift Just Off the Islets of Langerhans..." and about three/four hundred others. Not the least of which, "Incognita, Inc.," is my very latest, in which you will find the same gentleness of spirit and hope for the human race that I presume you foud in my few poor inadequate words about Brother Theodore.
Implied by your question is that I write "brutal stories" most of the time. Pardon me, sans tongue-lashing, if I reject that.
Respectfully, Harlan.
And also, uttered when dealing with an ID10T error:
"Lithium is no longer available on credit." From Buckaroo Banzai.
C.
Note to self: the truth really does hurt. That's what I get for waiting until 11:30 at night to write a response, and not waiting {insert prerequisite length of time here} to read it before I posted it. Especially in light of the company. And yes, I do seek "some sort of illumination" as you put it. I've never been good at lurking/keeping my nose to myself.
The abyss of difference between "idea" and "story" - that phrase nailed it. I have no problem getting into the guts of a story, but there are times when the story seems to write itself. And often times, any hint of structure I may have had in the first few pages is so much twisted wreckage by the end.
And yes, I try too hard sometimes. Especially while under self-inflicted duress. It seems I can dance until I fall down, aching and sore and blissed out on endorphins, because I just don't give a shit what anyone thinks about my dancing. I dance for *me*. I just need to learn how to write for me, it seems. Interesting that you should observe that about me in just one post.
::sigh:: So much for first impressions.
Is it too contrite to say 'thank you'? Even so, I'll say it. Primarily for Angry Candy, but also for being frank.
I gotta run, William Gibson's at the door with beer & pizza.
C.
~Mr. Forrester: To the question of longevity, is that "quality" what separates literature from pulp fiction?
~phrases from the family: Upon finding something hidden in plain sight: "If it was a snake, it woulda bitcha!" My response was always, "If it was a snake, I woulda noticed it!"
~You know you're a child of the Internet generation when it seems odd to not add a .sig file (i.e. the three line bio/pithy quotes/ascii critters/links to any established online identity).
Having invited a (likely deserved) tongue-lashing not yet equaled in my life from someone who would win the award, if they gave it out, for most vocally creative way to reduce a human being to sub-atomic particles, I will move on to more light-hearted matters.
Susan - We've had a couple of things go missing in the mail back to the states. Could you please let me know if/when my KICK check arrives?
Alejandro - Swellegant! Bask away, you deserve it.
So, I'm sitting here nursing a lemon & ginger tea (earlier tonight, actually finished it now 'cause it's taken so long to write everything), hoping to ward off an incipient headcold that's edging around my sinuses, and I've finally caught up with the posts and I think to myself, OK, let's get back to those nifty, odd, but often misunderstood phrases and words. And, of course, I'm just *blank* becasuse it's not a situation that really calls for one. Cannibal Brain time. (Rick, you have coined my new catchphrase!).
These phrases go in and out with me depending on what's making it into my brain, often from the visual media. Very few stick with time. I've seen a few here already ("Jimminy Christmas", "God Bless it/America", "golly gee willikers") and special thanks to Alex for reminding me of "nerts", I'd forgotten that one (slipped out of my usage). Often no one gets the reference for my phrases but then I'm not usually quoting them in such a literate crowd. Here's a batch I can recall. [Disclaimer: this isn't REALLY what Harlan asked for, they are not all purpose phrases that I used for everything which no one understands, but I think that's okay because the topic has digressed a bit anyway].
"Greetings programs" - Tron
"No human would stack books like that" - Ghostbuster
"Don't make me get out 'the belt'" - Cosby, just the most oft-used Cosbyism for me. Dad was a BIG BIG BIG Bill Cosby fan. I cannot tell you just how many repetitions of Cosby routines I heard from my dad and they have inevitably wound up twisted into the neural fibers.
"No matter where you go, there you are", "It's not my damn planet, monkey-boy!", and "Careful, don't tug on that; you never know what it might be attached to" - Buckaroo Banzai
"It's always gonna be something with you, isn't it?", "I have absolutely no reponse to that", and "brain-cloud" (said while moving over hand over head from back to front) - Joe vs. the Volcano. The last one is used when the hubby or I aren't feeling good in some generic but undefinable way. Like now.
"If you don't look for me, I won't hide from you" - courtesy of the hubby
"It's not just a job, it's two jobs" - also from the better half, twisted version of the famous ARMY ad that he used in the Navy. I find it very apt in my current overworked persona.
"Multipass" - Fifth Element, said exactly like Milla did. Anytime ID is required (a lot for displaced foreigners!)
"Toe pick" - Cutting Edge, something essential that constantly that screws you up.
"Colder than a polar bear's butt" - my own Alaskan original. When it's cold. Duh.
And now, it's bedtime for bonzette (another co-opted saying), 'cause it's getting late over here in GMT land.
Till tomorrow............Peg
John - I know we all send our sympathies on your loss.
It's kind of weird posting this next bit knowing Harlan is going to read it, but I am anyway because if he weren't here I'd probably post it as point of discussion for his writing.
Harlan - I don't know you well, and so you can (politely) put me in my place if this is too personal and way outta bounds.
I'm not sure how to say this without being morbid or insulting so here goes. Your writing seems, to me, to be at your most eloquent when you're eulogizing. It is sad that you've had too many opportunities in recent years, and I know you've commented on this elsewhere at length, so perhaps it is the frequency that gives me this perspective. Each one reveals some hidden faith and admiration you hold for humanity as exampled in one person and their special qualities. This is rarely evident to me in your other works, often dark and seeming to have a sense of frustration or disappointment is our lesser natures. (Anything written about Susan is notably excepted from this.) I've seen other praise or endorsements or compliments put forth, but not with the same intensity or complete embrace of someone's worthiness of existence and subsequent diminishment of the species in their passing. In some way I hope there are other times humanity inspires you so, even if it's not written down, because we should not have experience such loss to appreciate the better aspects our collective selves.
Peg
Finally, after banging my head against the wall these past few days, I remembered a phrase that I constantly use whenever faced with office politics and intrigue. A phrase that I use with my colleagues when we want to get thr rumor mill going: "Are you pondering what I am pondering, Pinky?"
And then, of course, the phrase that I wish I could use the day that I pack my bags and move to a brighter, better career/life/city/whatever: "Screw you guys, I'm going home".
South Park and Pinky and the Brain: the apotheosis of American pop culture.
Just running through today, as I've a webpage to rebuild--and to add news and links about KICK to.
Alejandro--double congratulations to you! I look forward to your translation, when you've time to post it here. Alas, my Yiddish is poor, my French barbaric and my Spanish non-existant. Thanks in advance for making your work available in English.
Harlan--A few more phrases have welled up in memory. My mother used to say "You make a better door than a window," a less colorful version of the "Glassblower" remark we've seen here. She also liked to quote Mammy Yokum: "As any fool can plainly see--AH kin see." Otherwise, he exclaimations were all in French, a lingering aftereffect of her past as a French major (before she was thrown out of Ohio State for being epileptic).
Best to all, and I'll catch up on the morrow. --Alex
Well to tell the truth I started the first Harry Potter novel about 3 months ago as my mom & dad had come up to visit and mom said since I always enjoyed those "types" of books I might enjoy reading it. Well I started reading it and was about a third of the way through it when I got the call from dad that mom was in hospital and it might be serious well she passed away 27 Feb and I have not yet gotten in the mood to finish that book. Harry Potter is good in the sense that maybe all those kids reading those books will want to pick up one of Harlan's. *Note to new parents "A boy and his Dog" is not an Ol Yeller genre tale*
On a lighter note according to Yahoo News Hugh Grant has not signed on to play Dr. Who. *Note maybe he's holding out for a role in I Robot?*
As long as I'm going to the library any insite on anything new in the Science Fiction Section? Gosh I hope that old copy of Dangerous Visions is on the shelf now. For some strange reason the Bartow library in 1970 had a copy of "Again Dangerous Visions" that I read Twice.
Oh well everyone have a great day!
Susan,
I now have Zip codes to go along with the addresses I gave you earlier:
Miller 85375
Drummonds 85020
Best,
Shane
Mike Moorcock has made his introduction to the new edition of Kersh's "Fowler's End" available at:
http://www.newworldsmagazine.com/media/fowlers_end_introduction.doc
Susan,
Here is partial information on some of your lost HERC members:
Martain D. Miller, 17819 North 129th Avenue, Sun City West, AZ
(623) 546-3825
William S. Drummonds, 10644 North 15th Way, Phoenix, AZ
(602) 906-9417
Best Always,
Shane
Susan: I've uncovered partial information on two of your lost HERC members:
Martin D. Miller, 17819 North 129th Avenue, Sun City West, AZ
(623) 546-3825
William S. Drummonds, 10644 North 15th Way, Phoenix, AZ
(602) 906-9417
I hope that helps.
Best,
Shane
Hi, everyone! So much to read and me with such a short attention span! C'est l'existance. I did my best. If I don't address you directly, it isn't because I don't care. It's probably because I have nothing to say that someone hasn't already said better.
Alejandro: Congratulations! What fabulous news and I know you deserve it. An aside about Chucho Valdez: I'm anxiously awaiting my first Chucho recording. Something live from 1998 (the title escapes me now---I saw it in BMG and said, "That one..."). Also,is the Tito Puente article available online en Espanol? My Spanish is poor, but I can usually get something out of it.
On the longevity of writers, though I wasn't expressly asked: I think it has something to do with finding an audience. Once you find them, never let them go. It's like singing in a way: I sing for my own reasons (expression, catharsis, fun, something to do, etc.)but my audience likes me for their own reasons. When I'm able to find out what it is they like, I can keep dishing it out and they'll come back for more. That is not to say that I compromise my own work for the audience. It is to say that those who like what I'm serving show up at feeding time and/or hire me to "cook" for 'em. (and talk about yer mixed metaphors. Good thing I'm NOT a w-r-i-t-e-r!).
Harlan: Here are some catch phrases that mean something to me or that I use: My mother used to say,"Cut that out! People have been shot for less!" Heeding that advice keeps me out of unneccessary bar fights. I like to say, "Life's short. Swing hard." It's one of my mottos (ripped off from Nike ad). My other motto is "Swing where you're planted." (ripped off from a Mormon saying).
An update on me and my so-called career: I'm beginning the recording process next week. Please wish me luck. I'm looking forward to it, but I can't help being a little nervous.
Rick: As always, I loved your rant. I'm glad you intend to write a little more regularly. Any chance you might be able to update this place with that long-dreamed-of multi-thread BBS? You've got SO much spare time, I'm sure! :) (you did notice that big grin on my face as I was typing that, right???)
Well, that's all I can manage now. I need a nap. Hi to all the regulars, the lurkers, and special shouts out to two Webderheads who appear to be MIA: DOC and SUE LUESSE!
I love you all!
(PS: Barney: That Olin Downes is sitting on my shelf. I'm dying to get into it, but I'm still in the throes of this Mary Lou Williams bio and La Morte D'Arthur. So many books!)
To all-
A question that came to mind related to postings by John Thompson, Harlan's reply to him, John Pickett, Peter et al. How do you account for the longevity of a writer? Not to be confused with "success," which Peter rightly points out is usually related to some marketing/spin doctor who convinces the public it "simply must have" somesuch book, appearances on Oprah, ghostwritten "as told to" publications and/or alleged "cowritten" works by some celebrity and the finisher of the month, or autobios by people who haven't lived long enough to get a driver's license or register to vote.
Consider the different readership of, say, a writer of mystery or detective stories (the reader pretty much knows what he/she is going to get) in series that have lasted decades. Compare that to a non-genre specific writer, someone who's a writer, period, and the anticipation of the readership when that name appears on a magazine or book cover. Because you don't know exactly what you're going to get, all the reader knows for certain is that it will entertaining, challenging, etc.
What are your thoughts?
Harlan hereabouts, come Wednesday mawnin' after they done took away the trash bins from infronta Ellison Wonderland:
Responding to overnight postings.
Cavalaxis: no need to feel trepidatious about coming into the heartwarming conversational circle. Everyone here seems--and continues to demonstrate by immense outpourings of camaraderie--to be sensible, openminded, civilized. We all welcome you, on the understanding that at least I (who can speak for no others) will not butter your toast with elf-jam, but will always, I repeat, ALWAYS tell you what I perceive to be the truth.
Which is why, in response to your lamentation about not knowing how to get to the essence of structure on any given piece of writing, I am compelled to make the following observations (and I presume your corporeal appearance here, as opposed to lurking, is an indication that you SEEK some sort of illumination, and weren't just shooting off your bazzoo):
Two salient points can be deduced from what you posted, bearing in mind that--as I said in the earlier comments to Mr. Thompson--form follows function. BUT...in terms of underpinning, story-structure, design and thrust of plot, FUNCTION IS FREQUENTLY PREDICATED ON THE TEMPLATE OF FORM. Storyline is often run through the river channel of form that has been cut by the design you originally laid out. That's salient point number one: you ned to understand the abyss of difference that lies between an "idea," and a "story."
The "flash-image" you describe is the IDEA. It is a snippet, a dash of color, a memory, an illogical linkage of disparate elemts to make a new and different perception. But it ain't the STORY. The "story" is what you DO with the idea, how you develop it, what subtleties and side-paths the basic concept flash-image leads you to. It may be that you can't get "down out of the rigging'" as you put it, down into the lazzarette, because you are confusing the initial epiphany, the flash-image you describe, with the far more complex, artful, and difficult job of CRAFTSMANSHIP that develops the snippet into cohesive, coherent storyline. That's point #1.
But salient point #2 may be a trifle distressing to you, as I deliver what is (please remember) my perception only:
You are, it seems to me, too goddam intent on being a WRITER; no, let me amend that. You want to be a W*R*I*T*E*R!!!
Too many amateurs--and by that term I specifically mean those who are not professionals--no opprobrium attaches to the term--but until you sell a few pieces, like it or not, good as you may be, or as tawdry bad as you may be, you are an amateur--are suffused with the bullshit mythology of the Mystic Ways of the Author. There is a millstone of attitude and urban misinformation that erects a barrier between good, simple, direct writing, and the amateur scrivener. I find that crippling chauvinism, that sophomorism if you will, in your posting.
Here you are, coming in fresh to a group that includes a professional for whom you seem to have some (probably misplaced) awe, or at least respect...and you write the opening intro letter in an artsy-fartsy way that obscures what you're appealing. It indicates to me that your head may be all muddled with academic or esoteric literary crapola. Frankness foremost, I had one helluva time figuring out just what you were asking, seeking, trying to get to.
Now, I THINK I hacked through the stilted verbiage to the bleeding center of your request, but who the hell knows? Maybe I'm kilometers off the track. But if you can agree that I figured out what you were after by coming here, then perhaps you can "give it the barest" (as they used to say in Synanon group encounter "games") that maybe I'm on to the scent of what's tasking you. If I am, then swell; I've been a force for Good in Our Time. If I'm full of shit, and all wrong, well, welcome aboard anyhow, and just file all the preceding as lousy vest-pocket psychoanalysis.
But unless my Instinct for Training Writers has gone completely wonky, I think you're too intent on poesy, not poetry, but poesy, to do the hard work of merely writing a story.
I'll send this now, answer others later. Yr. pal, Harlan.
This is just a small response to John Pickett. I'm only bringing this up because for all the unnecessary hype and marketing and money pumped into the Harry Potter books, they really are well told stories. If you've read them and think they're garbage, then fine, you've given them a chance and you've formed your opinion. If, on the other hand, you've based this rejection of them on an inherent distaste for the hype-machine that backs them, (and believe me, it's easy to dismiss something out of hand simply because some marketing "genius" decided that unless we have Harry Potter home lobotomy kits we're not going to stick around for the next book) then you are really doing yourself and the books a disservice.
---Peter
Haven't caught up with all the posts (must be blue-light special going on posts!). Just wanted to clear up something, in case I didn't read it right.
Harlan - I am a displaced Yank, not a Limey. Not sure if I managed to mangle that assertion along the way in all the flurry of posts. That said, I am picking up some of the more interesting local phrases, albeit slowly.
Peg
Well I'm heading off to the local library to clean them out of every Harlan title I can find and re-read them so I can refresh my cluttered mind and loose myself for a day in reading. It's been about a year since I finished "Slippage". The library is having their Spring Book sale this weekend so if any of you are in the Gainesville Fl area this weekend I'll be glad to post the
location and hours if you need them. Harlan if I find a Kersch title it'll be in the mail ASAP.
First Science Fiction book I read as a kid of 5-6 years old was a
novel about a young boy surviving a "crash landing" of a space cruiser on a planet I think either Venus or Mars and having to hide from "evil winged aliens" and befriending an alien "pet". The title and author escapes me to this day but after that novel
this kid was hooked on Asimov Ellison and Heinlen. After all these years I still think "Moon is a Harsh Mistress" got me hooked on wanting a computer. Oh well until I get the time to write my own Hugo Winning novel I'll keep bugging librarians I meet to order more Ellison titles and less harry potter crap.
As someone mentioned a couple of weeks ago, Gerald Kersh's FOWLER'S END has been put back into print in Britain with an introduction by Michael Moorcock. I lucked out as I'm only here for two more weeks before I return to the states and I wish I could grab some for interested parties back home but I don't have the luggage space (although I suppose I can make an exception if Harlan comes calling), I would suggest heading to www.amazon.co.uk - they'll ship to America at a reasonable cost. Also - actually THE reason that I was posting - the copyright page features a link to www.harlanellison.com/kersh
Cheers.
A-dub (a gimmicky nod to the 250 million dollar man.)
Harlan, thanks a lot for taking the time to answer my question. I think it shows a true generosity of spirit that you've taken an interest in our comments. Your reply was very informative, especially to someone who discovered "The Beast That Shouted Love..." at the age of fourteen and was blown away.
Harlan - Alex hits it right on the head: "Your mother wasn't a glass blower" was typically hurled at us when we blocked Grandma's view of something that she was in dire need of eyeballing: the television, the view of the flower garden, her direct line-of-sight to the Greene County Memorial Hospital emergency entrance directly across the street, etc. I suspect that some days she'd have been happier with grandchildren spun out of Saran wrap.
Alejandro - congratulations, and best of luck!
Rick - As someone whose mind makes the Smithsonian Institute's attic look like a Better Homes and Gardens feature on The Spartan Way of Decorating, your rant strikes a deep, resounding chord. I wonder sometimes how many things of substance I discarded so that I could keep ultimately meaningless crap (just as easily found in reference books) between my ears.
Yes -- but how does one progress from the crow's nest, the tilt of the jib, the stitches in the mainsail, down the rigging, passed the bridge and the weathered figure at the helm, into the gun deck, beneath the powder kegs and into the very marrow of the vessel?
Sometimes I find myself caught up in the mere flash of an image. The scene which presents itself fully formed and completely sans explanation. Only through the writing can I find the underlying meaning of the images presented to me.
And sometimes I find the bones to be already well-chewed. Fear, Love, Hate, Jealousy, Revelation, all the players are there -- only the costumes seem to have changed.
In the past few hours, my cerebral processes have been experiencing the rough equivalent of a denial-of-service attack, solely because I stumbled into this tiny corner of the web. And it's bothered me. Slashdot uses the moniker "Anonymous Coward" to describe those users who decline to identify themselves when posting. After reading this page and discovering that all that was required to post here was a keyboard, I have felt those words on my forehead. Not in writhing flames mind you, but some cold, pasty grey font like courier, an old tattoo faded by the sun.
Why? I have chewed on that question now for a few hours and discovered the reason.
Words. The same players, in different costumes, that managed to transmute the very fabric of my mind. My dark sense of humor, my left-handed views, hell -- my very aspirations as a writer, were crafted and poured with loving if not-so-gentle hands, deep into the foundation of me upon my first reading of Deathbird Stories. Upon re-reading that, it sounds somewhat childish, but I can't deny the truth of it.
For me, the prospect of meeting one's formative influence is daunting. But I refuse to be an Anonymous Coward. I am a burgeoning writer living in the San Fernando Valley, database developer by day, web/graphics/word developer by spare moment here and there. And the past few years have been my own personal Angry Candy, featured most recently in a close friend's attempted suicide. My current project is a website (still in development) dedicated to that twisted sense of humor that revolves around death and dying (in horrible, amusing ways).
And in closing, I endeavor to entertain with an original joke that pretty much defines what digitalcarrion.com will be about.
It seems that, in days of old, Odin the All-Father kept two crows about to do his bidding. His intel, as-it-were. Hugin & Munin. Thought & Memory. Well, driving about this city, one can see many crows, but I have never seen just *two*. They always seem to travel in three's, and I think I have a pretty good idea who that third crow is. He's Hugin & Munin's long lost cousin - Joe. Not country bumpkin Joe, but big city Joe, y'know -- from Lon G'island? Just imagine if you will, Thought & Memory returning from a long day's work only to find their cousin -- Joe -- entertaining the depth-perceptionally challenged deity.
"So we says to him, we says -- 'Heah -- hold this feather and youse can fly!' HAH! We was eatin' elephant for weeks!!"
Faithfully yours in the crimes of the pen,
C.
Harlan, responding to Mr. Thompson:
Underlying structure of a story has become pathologically important to me in the last few years.
The way the hull is laid determines if you slice down the ways in a minesweeper or a PT boat or an aircraft carrier.
Form follows function.
With, for instance, "Incognita, Inc.," until I realized that I had to tell the story first person, by someone who was acting upon the little old mapmaker, giving us a "sense of wonder" view of him and the shoppe, I was stymied in the writing.
The departures from traditional, mimetic structures--as in "The Deathbird," "The Beast that Shouted Love at the Heart of the World," "Objects of Desire in the Mirror..." and a couple of dozen others, including "The Region Between," are the result of my determination not to reduce myself to--as the French put it--"fichu," which means "performance" for an audience that already knows what it wants, and thus is dulled to explosive experimentation. I steadfastly refuse to become my own dog'n'pony show. And one way to stay ahead of the curl is to work down in the black gang, down in the sub-basement of story: down in the understructure.
Does that answer the query? I hope so. Thanks for asking.
Yr. pal, Harlan.
Harlan-
No "Michael Head-wise" at all, my friend. I only hope to have fun, express thoughts and give (almost) as well as receive from all here, yerself especially, friend.
BTW - in addition to the new treatment of DWAGH, also looking forward to "Working Without a Net"; all the "remind me someday to tell you about the time..." items revealed at last.
Peace
Wow.
Harlan - as I noted before - we suffer lulls on this board - then there are times when twice a day checks aren't enough to keep up.
Alejandro - Congrats. From the barest essence I've gleaned from the posts here, you are clearly a writer of some calibre.
All - my tastes in comics are generally pedestrian - but I was recently forced to read Liberty Meadows by a friend, and by jove, they are some extraordinary stuff - ranks in the company of Bloom County (not Outland, though - it lost something in the change), Calvin and Hobbes (the sight of an army of snowmen sends me into paroxysms of laughter), and Foxtrot (I have more than my share of Jason-like qualities...), at least for me.
Weirdest phrase from my family archive - "La-tee-dah and little fishes". Though I have been caught saying "Game over, man, game over." in that nasally/whiney voice of Hudson...
Hope Easter went well for those who celebrate, mine sucked - I had a big ol' chunk of angry candy handed to me, and my media bullshit level has just about been filled to the line which reads, in very small type: "grab an uzi and deepen the gene-pool".
My school newspaper horror story may be minor in comparison to some of the others, but here goes: In my senior year of high school, I signed on as entertainment reporter/critic for our local paper. I was excited to flex my budding muscles as a writer, and had what I thought were some great ideas for book reviews. I suggested a bunch of novels and short story collections to review in a wide variety of genres, including work by Harlan, Robert Silverberg, Ruth Rendell, Joyce Carol Oates and others.
"This stuff is too obscure," the editor informed me (and no, she wasn't a fellow student but a twenty-eight-year old woman). "Pick a Michael Crichton or Stephen King book instead. That's what people want to hear about."
I sighed and explained to her that the books and writers I wanted to review had many, many loyal readers. Besides, I added, isn't it the job of a reviewer to introduce people to new and exciting things? My pleas fell on deaf ears.
Well, you can probably guess the rest. After years of excelling in English and writing, I flunked out of this particular class. Even my parents understood. After leaving a parent/teacher conference, my stepmother called the woman "a hydra." (She was also a liberal arts major and to this day comes up with some of the most inventive insults I've ever heard.)
I just discovered this forum a few days ago and would love to ask you a question if I could, Harlan. (I apologize if I was the Pied Piper who led the gang astray earlier from some more interesting debates.) You're known as a very visceral writer and yet your stories have a sound and satisfying structure beneath. I've talked to Michael Moorcock before, who seems to find a certain poetry in certain structures (and god knows, he's mastered many). Is the structure of a story just as important a consideration to you? It seems like, in recent years, you've been experimenting with the whole notion of what a story is. "The Man Who Rowed Christopher Columbus Ashore" was like a culmination and coda to all the wild experiments that took place in the New Worlds/Dangerous Visions era.
Larry: Welcome to the party!
Ladies and gentlemen, meet Larry Young, comic book writer extraordinaire, author not only of the splendid Astronauts in Trouble series but of The Bod for Double Image and publisher and grand boobah of PlanetLar provider of the best line of original graphic novels. You must get thee to a bookstore and buy a copy of Space Beaver 1 and 2 as well as Brian Wood's Channel Zero from this man. Hell, buy everything this man puts out. Make him rich, please. Larry walks the walk and talks the talk. He also writes a splendid column for comicbookresources.com titled Loose Cannon published every Friday morning. Frequent poster (as am I) at the Warren Ellis, Brian Wood and Larry's own forum the man's opinions are something to be reckoned with.
Don't get lost pal.
Although there few phrases I use regularly, owing to the fact they become so cliched so fast nowadays and I'm tooling on my tricycle (with a flat) in the slow lane most days, well, I haven't much to offer up:
1. Thick as a brick and twice as dumb.
2. Nanny-nanny, boo-boo.
3. Yeah. That worked.
Until next time. . .
I was lost, but now I'm found!
I've sent a note off to Harlan and Susan with our new address. Many thanks to the barrel-full of folks who have taken the time to point me here.
And may I say, having read the prohibition about blatant-HE-ass-kissing, I'll still roll those dice and takes me chances and just add that it makes me smile a secret grin to read emails posted by Harlan himself.
All's right in my byte-filled world. :)
L.
--I just posted something, I know, but these things refuse to leave me alone:
My mind skips, you see, like a marble on a still lake, and looking back it seems I may've inadvertantly undermined the weight of the words to which I was reponding: Consider the advice gratefully and attentively received, Mr. Ellison.
Mr. Wyatt--admittedly, my expectations of a section called, simply, "Rant" were, uhm, less than high, but I had a look and ate those words several times over. My compliments.
Finally, whom. Not thom. Whom.
~Jeff
Fercryin'outloud, Mr. Riera--congratulations. May your work receive all the awards, libations, and general praise it deserves.
Mr. Ellison--funny you should bring all that up. It's unbelievable, simply incredible what our district is trying to pull--the article, straight news--yes, straight news, as in the objective gathering and reporting of facts (I wouldn't bother to define it, except I realize some of you quite reasonably believe such reporting to be a completely foreign concept in the modern media)--is right now underway. Hopefully, a few parents--they're the only ones to thom the district listens, after all, unless we students do our impression of the Bonus Expeditionary Force like we did last year, in which case they'll pretend to listen to those that didn't fall for the ol' "this bus is going right to the district offices, sure, yup! (as they turn around and go back to school)" trick--will see it and decide to make a phone call or write a letter.
That was another colossal run-on, wasn't it? Hey--they're not run ons: I'm just writing in the Ornate style, that's it, yessir.
At any rate, I'm not sure how "hip" I am to the "lingo" of my generation. If I had to venture a guess, I'd say there hasn't really any new slang recently; all one needs to get by in this town are, as a teacher of mine put it, the words "like, y'know, whatever." They work well seperately, or in concert. Use them in good health.
As a side note, a plea for help--I'm trying desperately to save a magnificent ol' fern that sits atop my desk. I'm not sure what species it is, but it A) is green, B) has crystalline-shaped leaves, and C) sprouts fuzzy, claw-like limbs that I take to be roots--they're similar to pipe cleaners, collect in the center of the fern beneath the leafy green, and have quite a strong grip in places along the rim of the pot. It's watered daily, and that's about it. Sorry I can't be more specific; any help would be greatly appreciated.
~Jeff
Thanks to everyone who responded so positively to my "rant". I had no idea there were others who felt the same, that somehow large chunks of their life had been lost to them. And I'd have to agree with Sheryl: our umbilical attachment to mass media is at least partly to blame.
On the few crossed wires here:
Conversations on chat boards like this can be dangerous for two reasons. Reason the former is that the pitch and timbre of voice does not carry well into plain text. Reason the latter is that, well, when it comes to these things people are generally not careful readers. Because of this, attempts to adopt a wry or sardonic tone tend to fail....and well-meant ball breaking often offends. This is aggravated by the fact that this sort of personal textual interaction generates a false sense of comradery and intimacy which can be painful when it shatters.
To minimize this, I try to assume the best of a person's intentions until he or she deliberately and unmistakably demonstrates malice. I also try to keep debates on a factual level, avoiding rhetoric and ad hominem arguments myself and ignoring them when I am presented with them. Finally, before I respond to something I have found offensive or provocative, I allow myself some time away from the computer first.
This is not meant to encourage colorless or emotional debate; nor is it meant to belittle those who have become my friends here or impugn the respect and affection I have for them. I employ this strategy largely because I consider myself caretaker of this little corner and therefore feel a responsiblity to not get so involved that I lose my perspective. I mention it because I feel it may be a useful tool to some of you - nothing more.
So good luck and remember - only press ENTER at paragraph breaks!
One last Ellisonian aside:
Thank you, to those of you passing along the sorry news of the death of my friend Brother Theodore Gottlieb. But I already knew. His major domo, friend, watchdog, whatever term fits for one who sits the long deathwatch...he called me less than an hour after Teddy passed.
I'd spoken to Teddy several times in the week preceding his death, but he had gone almost totally deaf; and though I screamed at the top of my lungs, he could barely make out the sound of my voice, much less what I was saying. But he had called to tell me how much he liked me, and I surely felt all was coming to final moments. They were awful calls, in which the abyss of deafness separated our affection for each other.
He was, in my view, a great and talented man. Overlooked in his twilight years, relegated to cabaret performances in constrictive venues, and filled with the anomie of the show having closed out of town for him, yet nonetheless the vessel of greatness. I have only two of the lps he made, but they clarion with such intensity, they bring him back in such full shine and metre and measure, that he will never be completely gone for me.
Though we were in each other's physical presence only once (apart from those times in far earlier days when I was just another slack-jawed member of one of his audiences), we became fast friends. I marveled at his artistry, he enjoyed my stories.
I lamented the way that pus-bag Letterman treated him, and he commiserated with me on the buffoonery and bullying of studio satraps, while he was here shooting THE 'BURBS.
His life was a pageant, filled with events and travail that mirrored in microcosm the most important interludes in world history, the most significant human tragedies, though he turned the nightmares into nightmarishly exquisite, brilliant, comedy. No, not comedy...anecdotism. He wasn't a comedian, or a standup, or a monologist, nor even a raconteur. He was a word magician, with inflection and insight and a demonic instinct for the jugular of any subject. He was Poe come again, Clark Ashton Smith aloud, Lovecraft with a giggle, absurdist genius, surreal purveyer of phantasmagoric mind-plays. Sui generis. Rara avis.
He was, as no one else has ever been, one of a kind whose species we can now list with the defunct great beasts of legend.
The roc, the gryphon, the minotaur, and Teddy. Brother Theodore is dead, yes, but the legend lives on.
Sometime, when we're all together, I'll do for you my "impression" of Teddy, that some have said is eminently accurate, and which Teddy said was, "Frrrrrrighttttteningly on the money, Harrrrrlan my frrrrriend!"
Yrs. with sorow, Harlan Ellison; who was blessed enough that he once shared a long long evening with a creature of legend.
HE here:
Bill: Before this develops MichealHeadwise---that is to say, misinterpreting one's intentions to our mutual consternation and detriment---my Rothko response was not meant to "set you up" with praise for the posting, only then to slap you down with opprobrium for the Rothko aside. I presume my assurance of the foregoing will suffice; but if clarification is needed (and I'm not sure it is, at all), it is this:
I had scribbled notes for responses to all those postings, on the back of an envelope. I cannot recall what I want to say to so many different people, on so many different topics, with so many side-bar branchings from the main topic of the post, unless I jot a note to myself. And so, when the replies got to be humungous, and I lost about an hour of comment before I could send it, and I got furious & frustrated, and I had to go back to work but returned twice, three times again to finish the job . . . I found your second message, with the Rothko aside; and I added it to my original response, which I hadn't at that point yet entered. And so, they wound up in the same posting . . . though I did, purposely, break a paragraph to set the latter apart from the former. If I "hurt" you, my apology; no such intent was in my mind or my dialogue. Once again, I thought I was being tough/cute. Apparently not.
Respectfully, HE
>
No, not a chance. I know you better than that. But I'm always curious to see how many pokes in the creative eyes network brass
are willing to take without considering the smoothness of logic in a good script. I remember reading a blatantly candid interview with Byron Haskin before he passed away wherein he expressed passion in what could be done with the OL and total disgust for the interfering Cro-Magnon at ABC: "They're fucking idiots, every last one of them".
Yes, at some point I will pick up the graphic novel and/or script. On the point about what's a movie and what's a tv show, however, these days the differences have been pretty diminished: you may be working on a movie now, but it may still wind up a tv episode even if it's on the big screen. Obviously, I hope not. If we could sweep today's executives out of our faces I'd like to see movies try to be movies again.
Alejandro, I promised myself next time I stopped by to offer my congratulations and failed to do that. The feeling of recognition, even based on your articulate entries here, you have is very well deserved; best of luck with your future efforts.
Mr. E. - as I promised. If the Rothko reference pushed a button, my apologies to you and to him. I shoulda phrased it in another fashion to make the point and you were correct to make me aware of that. (And I won't just 'pick up the phone,' even if the number is in my possesion, to say the words. That would be way too presumptuous of me).
Rick - Thank you for sharing part of your life and your wonderful gift of expression.
Yemanyá and Oshún are really smiling on me this week. I just received news that I have been nominated by my peers as a candidate for the Hispanic Media 100 Awards. The awards dinner will be held August 23, 2001 at the Biscayne Bay Marriott in Miami, Florida. Final honorees will be announced prior to the awards dinner.
For a complete list of the nominees you may visit www.hispanicmedia100.org. Impressive company indeed.
And I'd better get back to work. Too much to do. Too much to do. Must not get all these nominations and accolades get to my head. Oh, no.
Oh, fuck it. I am gonna bask in glory for awhile.
No time, no time; I'm a hyperactive rabbit with a pocket watch ...
Just dropped an e-mail on Larry Young, as his online columns are ones I follow pretty regularly.
And "Your father wasn't a glass-blower" usually meant, in my house, "Move over; you're blocking the teevee!"
Harlan-
You set me up.
There I was, reviewing the postings of the last few days, wondering why we had traversed to the land of graphic novels and gee wasn't it swell when they were all in color for a dime, seeing that someone else had also noted the passing of Brother Theodore, etc.
Then I came across your comment directed to me, to wit:
"the essence of your posting was delicious, wholly upbeat and humanistic . . . and I feel the same way about my Susan as you do about your love. "
Made me feel better about the day, and I thank you for that acknowledgement. But THEN I read on, perchance hoping to see that you had found evidence that your bet with yourself regarding thwarted journalistic careers was indeed correct, and you wrote:
"But, Forrester . . . watch them gratuitous disrespectful Mark Rothko slams or I'll have to levitate a stormcloud of anguish over your skinny ass. Lichtenstein you can diss; Warhol you can poo-poo; even de Kooning you can question. But Rothko made me cry. So BACK THE FUCK OFF, punk! (And of course I mean that in the most genteel urbane way.)"
First off, my ass hasn't been anything near skinny since '78. Secondly, I was not being disrespectful. I thought of your quote - YOUR quote - of Rothko "Silence is so accurate." I coulda gone with a Gary Cooper "Nope, yup, shucks" or Sir Thomas More in "A Man For All Seasons" "Qui tacet consentire - silence gives consent." But, no, I thought it would be more appropriate for this forum to acknowledge Rothko. And you had to turn it around on me and hear what ya wanted to hear. Ow.
See, that's the kinda stuff that can make people walk away and say, "Why bother? If I say something that someone disagrees with, instead of engaging any dialog, a meeting of the minds, I'll just get assaulted until I look like the Elephant Man's uglier sibling." Whatever...just have to remember that sometimes the world is not Tom Skerrit talking about the rules of engagement, sometimes it's just Butch, Sundance and Harvey discussing the rules to the knife fight.
See,kids, Harlan only hurts the ones he loves. Gee, we really are like family here.
Have a good day, everybody
Harlan. Part 4. With every hope that this is Part the Last:
Finder: only GREAT catch-phrases!!!! "Crazy as a red-assed bee" now enters my glossary with "crazy as a soup sandwich" and "crazy as a thousand battlefields." Thank you for that one.
And I kvell (as we say in Yiddish) over the potentialities of "your mother wasn't a glass blower"---but I have utterly NO IDEA in what context this delicious bit of incunabula would be appropriate. You MUST give me a couple of typical contextual conversations in which it appears. Is it a substitute for "my mother didn't raise no fools" or something like that? Or am I way off the etymological trail? Further, son, further. Illuminate us, do.
John Pickett: I was touched by your post, and that's why I called. I figured, if you got stiffed for mowing lawns because you had to pay for that long distance call to me 36 years ago, then someone owed you a payback. It was a good chat. Nice to have you here. See ya around the campus. (Yet another catch-phrase I use indiscriminately. Vintage 1950s.)
Chris L: Your catch-phrases gave me the willies, weirded me out, creeped me down the lane. Too ugly reminiscent of the kind of barely-primate crap I heard in the Army---whence came the horrific "I could care less"---which clearly means "I could care more"---which makes my teeth clench, particularly when my buddy Joe Straczynski used it on page 1 of the new issue of MIDNIGHT NATION---and next to "really unique" they are my current AAAAAAAAAARGHHHHwords most despised---and so I'm sorry I can't extend the approbation I've slathered over some other remarks proffered by the group. Your stuff was just ugly, man. Sorry.
Peg: My dumb. My wrong. The "background" I thought might provide some interesting catch-phrases---such as Susan calling the TV remote "the doobry" or her use of the words manky, parky, and "thick as two short planks," all of which she brought with her, and more, from England---was my misunderstanding that you were a displaced Yank, and not a Limey. Fergit it. No harm, no foul. But at least that insidious and troubling referent is cleared up. Sleep well, my sweet.
Jes: How do you get me and Susan to the UK? Easy. Just do what has been done EVERY time I've come over. Get someone to hire me to lecture, or sell one of my books to a Brit publisher--haven't had a book published in the UK in more than 20 years--or just wait till I have to come over to confab with my director on DEMON WITH A GLASS HAND, David Twohy, who is shooting "Below" in London and thereabouts. But geting someone to pony up the exorbitant cost of speaking fee, plane fares, hotel, and per diem for meals is the best way. I can't be bought, but I sure as hell can be rented.
And, yes, the Larry Young we seek is my old friend, the author of the excellent comic ASTRONAUTS IN TROUBLE. He moved, we think, and didn't bother to let us know where, though he's probably still accessible through Comix Experience in San Francisco. But if anyone has a jungle telegraph to PlanetLar, ask him to getintouchwithusasap.
And finally, last response, to Rob: the reason the Kyben had regular present-day guns in my Outer Limits script of DEMON--which was well-explained in the original version before cuts were made and changes in the logic were introduced--was simply that they didn't want to change the past by introducing any artifact from the future that would be anachronistic. But ABC didn't know what "anachronistic" meant, so they kept the guns, introduced those stupid panda-bear black circles around the Kyben's eyes, and eliminated any explanation of the need not to disturb the time stream except in absolutely unavoidable minor ways. That's why all their technology was confined to the one building, so nothing would pollute the past.
Just because it wasn't in the aired version, you don't think I'm so slovenly that I'd let something as major, as structurally important plotwise as that go unattended, do you?
Go read the original script, or even the graphic novel. You'll find all that minutiae laid in carefully.
As for the feature film. I doubt that it will look much like the tv show. That's why it's called a "movie" and not a "tv remake."
Well, hallelujah, I see by the stuffed wombat on the wall that it's time for me to take my leave. It's been just ginchy as hell sharin' these golden moments with y'all.
Yr. pal, The Old Word Wizard Hisself, mere Harlan. (As Pogo would put it.)
Oh, dear, what have I wrought?
Okay, here's the deal, fellow webderlanders. I will translate my Tito Puente story sometime in the next three weeks and post it in this here forum for your reading pleasure. It's a piece I am proud of: a third reminiscence, a third shocked reactions from friends and peers and a third biographical profile. It shall be done as soon asl this 17th Annual Latino Film Festival/the inauguration of the Mexican Fine Arts Center's expansion/Cinco de Mayo madness is gone. (Three big stories, one per week, not counting my interview with Cuban singer-sngwriter Pablo Milanes and my cover story on that splendid, savage and amzing Mexican film Amores perros. My brain is about to implode. But the translation shall be done, I promise.)
Joseph:
A tiny correction if I may: your enthusiasm for Rising Stars goe the better of you. You typed it twice when, on the second time, you were recommending Powers, a book which I strongly endorse.
(What? No Planetary? No Metabarons? No Top 10 nor Promethea? Back to the comics store you go.)
Ellison here, Part 3:
Far be it from me to scream in thwarted frustration, but after setting in motion a couple of threads that truly interested me, all it took was one Pied Piper to divert EVERYONE in a nanosecond from contemplative matters to a running list of what comics they're currently reading. Now you all know where I fall on the matter of The Nobility of the Comic Book, but I've got to tell you, folks, it made me sigh mightily to see how easily y'all get distracted. Not that I don't think it's just swell that all of us keep up with our graphic input . . . but hullee geezus did you guys get turned away at the siren call, and FAST. Badda-bing, and you were all fled.
Well, nonetheless, I'll conclude my replies to previous postings on matters other than comicware.
Bill Forrester: yeah (he said mundanely), death is one of the ultimate sobering experiences. I've written about my little vision as I lay on the cardiac couch, the guy standing by the open door, all the swirling mist behind him through the open portal, and how er uh ahem SOBERING it was in that epiphanic moment (for "sobering" read scared the barely-living shit outta me). But the essence of your posting was delicious, wholly upbeat and humanistic . . . and I feel the same way about my Susan as you do about your love. She is the sun and moon to me, and if her smarts and wit and expertise and variegated abilities and expanding curiosity and good looks were not enough, two days ago we were looking through an old card-file of recipes, and I spotted Steak Diane, and I asked her if she'd ever made it, and she said no, but we decided to have it for dinner and, voila, two nights ago we had Steak Susanne (the French transmogrification seemed apropos), and it was---how do I put it adequately---muddlefarggin' deelishee-us! So yeah: death bad; Susan good.
But, Forrester . . . watch them gratuitous disrespectful Mark Rothko slams or I'll have to levitate a stormcloud of anguish over your skinny ass. Lichtenstein you can diss; Warhol you can poo-poo; even de Kooning you can question. But Rothko made me cry. So BACK THE FUCK OFF, punk! (And of course I mean that in the most genteel urbane way.)
Kerry from New South Wales: welcome aboard, you sound like a li'l bewty, and Susan asked me to tell you that DREAMS WITH SHARP TEETH has already been mailed to you. Y'know, I've been to Oz a few times, love it more than I can say, and I've got some dead earnest mates in NSW, such as Terry Dowling and Nick Stathopoulos, and the expatriate yank pal of many years, Jack Dann. Look 'em up. They're splendid company.
Let me send this now. Don't want to risk losing it. I'll be back for *sigh* part 4, with replies to Finder, John Pickett, Chris L, Peg, Alejandro (oh hell, here's what I wanted to say to you: Congrats Congrats Congrats, and why the hell can't YOU translate and post that eulogy for the great Tito Puente, whose
rhythms ensnared me in the mid-'50s and never let me loose? Also, Congrats Congrats Congrats!) and Jes and Rob.
I shall return. Yr. pal, who also reads Tellos and Midnight Nation and JSA and cannot wait for the denouement to Hitman, in addition to 76.4% of all the other titles you mentioned in your oh-so-invigorating compendia, Harlan.
What am I reading in comics these days? Deep breath, everybody:
Green Lantern, the only monthly comic I can think of written by a Pulitzer Prize nominee (Judd Winick was nominated for his fabulous Pedro and Me).
Green Arrow - I'm liking what Kevin Smith is bringing to the Ollie Queen saga so far.
Birds of Prey
Batman: Gotham Knights
Detective Comics
Liberty Meadows, the hands down funniest comic out there.
Transmetropolitan (of course)
Flash
Strangers in Paradise (which, along with Transmet, is the comic I keep pushing at people with that crazed expression of the True Believer)
Harley Quinn (sue me, I like Paul Dini's work)
Rising Stars - a great Wagnerian saga that drives me up the wall with it's month-and-a-half or so shipping cycle. Partially because I'm impatient, and partially because I'm damming myself for being so greedy about such great work.
The usual Spider-Man books - they sucked for quite a while, but of late have begun a resurgence. Peter Parker has been quite good lately, the Amazing Spider-Man now has Straczynski writing it, and Ultimate Spider-Man has been a very fine mix of humor and pathos.
Rising Stars - go, my compatriots, and demand this title from your local comic shop. Hell, if you don't have a local shop (and I highly recommend Chicago Comics, on Clark St. north of Belmont in Chicago, www.chicagocomics.com), go on the web and find it. Brian Michael Bendis has created something really special here with his world of superheroes and villains, telling it all through the eyes of two police detectives who deal with "the costume stuff." This series last month also had a hilarious takeoff of those "Officer Friendly" type coloring books you would get when you went to the police station on a class trip, full of advice on How to Tell If Your Parent Is A Supervillain, and How to Avoid Becoming A Superhero (1. Do not play around nuclear reactors). Great stuff. My, I have gone on about this one.
Red Star - a sort of techno-sorcery alternative universe look at the Soviet Union, focusing on the wars in Afghanistan and Chechnya. Good writing, great art. The last issue, about the slave workers on a floating battleship, was particularly good.
Hmmm....what else?
Girl Genius, the new series from Phil Foglio.
JLA, even if Mark Waid has left. Still quite good.
Universe X, though I'm really not that enamored of it.
Too Much Coffee Man.
American Century.
Hitman (unfortunately ended now. sob.)
Just a Pilgrim.
Oh, and I do keep up on the Superman books. So far I've been liking the results of the President Luthor plot.
So, what do we have? Some fanboy stuff, some great writing and some great art (I particularly like the visuals of Transmet, Starngers in Paradise and Powers). Well, it's better than reading Archie.
With all this talk about comics, just thought I'd mention that Michael Chabon won the Pulitzer Prize on Monday for his fiction book, Kavalier & Clay, about the early days of comics.
John and Alex:
And now I am in agreement. The situation the comic book industry faces today is no different than the one faced by the newspaper industry: how to attract and nurture new and future readers. While there are still some comics for kids, there are not as easily available as they once used to be. I remember my neighborhood drug store back in Puerto Rico used to carry tons of Batman and Superman comics in English and Spanish. The distribution situation has been discussed far and wide in other forums and I hate to be reiterative in here. But I don't see any way out of this quagmire as long as the distribution is controlled by one company and as long as most comic book shops remain unfriendly towards kids…and women.
Maybe it behooves us, as readers, to get these kids back into reading comics via donations of our old comics collections to hospitals and child care centers. Maybe we ought to give kids we know (nieces, nephews, sons, grandsons, next door neighbors') the gift of comics. God Knows. But at the same time, we should start our crusade by erasing the stigma that comics are for kids only. Comics are for everybody. So give comics as a gift to kids, adults, friends, foes and neighbors.
Okay, maybe I'm being too optimistic. But I speak from experienc.> I gave my father all five issues of Frank Miller's splendid 300 and he immediately asked me for more history-themed comics (I am thinking of giving him a copy of the soon-to-be-released Age of Bronze tpb). I gave my sister copies of Channel Zero and Barry Ween: the first intrigued her, the second she enjoyed. And after reading Bendis' Fortune and Glory, she immediately wanted to read Goldfish. And I got a colleague back into comics by getting him copies of the Ultimate Marvel line. Heaven knows where I'll go next with this crusade of mine.
I don't know about that, Alex. Speaking as someone who is a bit in touch with the comic book kids today, (and hello, since this is my first post -- I'm James, eighteen year old English major extraordinaire) I think that the form is starting to become a form of entertainment that's more like watching television than reading thought-provoking books.
Comic books like, oh, basically everything Marvel puts out -- they're cotton candy for the intellect, turn-your-brain-off-so-you-can-read-these-books books. -That- type of comic book is what's out there for children (admittedly, we might be talking different ages -- I'm thinking eleven, twelve, thirteen), and it seems to be a fairly popular sub-genre.
Not that this is a good thing. Hopefully, folks will read Smash'em 'N' Kill'Em #912, and then they'll go read something The Dreaming or Maus or Transmet, and they'll realize how much they were underestimating the potential inherent in the form. Or maybe they'll even read one of the books where the superhero writers Do It Right -- I've probably read fifty or sixty comic books in my entire life, but Action Comics #775 comes to mind -- and they'll have the same reaction.
The medium that produced mice-cum-Jews might be shrinking; I don't know. I wouldn't be able to tell, since I'm only tangentially involved in the fandom. If I had to guess, I'd say it was, because all the fans I know are crunching down on the fluffy, fill-space 90% of the field. But young or old, the majority of them still appreciate good work.
I do wish that the folks producing "literary" comic books would tone down the obscenity and the violence, if only because then you get well-meaning parents taking Watchman books away from their ten year olds, their twelve year olds. -That- is a niche that needs to be filled; I can't think of any -clean-, intelligent comic books out there. I don't think it's absolutely necessary to have them, because we have the fluffybooks to hook people until they're "old" enough to read the decent stuff, but I think it'd help a lot. It'd save some time.
Is that what you were getting at?
Alex/John - Yoinks. You're right. I, of course, speak from the POV of a 28 year-old pop-literate (and passingly classics-literate) comics junkie. Not having kids - or knowing any kids, or having any friends that have kids of reading age - this particular problem is something I haven't thought about. The propogation of comics in my immediate social circle is very much a case of someone going mad over something and recommending it to his/her friends, whence it spreads to others of the same age and ilk. Not very cross-generational, I'll admit.
That said, my prized nigh-on 20-year-old copy of Raymond Briggs' Fungus the Bogeyman kept me, my siblings and my parents regularly entertained when a child. But there is little I know of that could be given to a child. Can anyone think of anything?
Best regards
Jes
Comics, hmm. Yes, there are marvelous books hitting the stands these days, from Frank Miller's continued explorations of the pulp genre to Kyle Baker's "You Are There" and the vastly underrated "The Cowboy Wally Show." Tons of fine material. So why am I worried about the genre?
Simply put--there's nothing out there for children.
Most of us grew up reading comics. Comics were an entry-level reading experience that taught us to love the written word. In my youth, Sugar and Spike competed for my attention with Little Lulu and Uncle Scrooge. In Harlan's day, there were far more riches for a young reader, fields of story so vast that most of it is forgotten today (alas!). And you know what's out there for today's kinder?
Damn near nothing, that's what's out there.
My daughters started out on Little Lulu and Carl Barks' duck stories. But they only had those stories available because dear old dad bought the Russ Cochran editions before they were born. A true children's comic book like Art Spiegelman and Franciose Mouley's "Little Lit" is both rare and expensive.
Make no mistake: reading comics is a learned skill. My wife cannot read "Sandman" because she never read comics as a child. She finds it difficult and irritating to follow the flow. She doesn't have the trained knowledge of which panel follows which. "Watchman" and "Maus" were readable for her--more arcane designs are not. She doesn't doubt that there are riches to be mined, but she hasn't the patience to dig for them.
Where will tomorrow's comic readers come from? And without readers, can the medium survive?
Hey, howzat for a downer message?
To Alejandro and Jess: Yes, Warren Ellis, Neil Gaiman and a handful of others, including Peter David and Brian Michael Bendis, are doing superlative work in the medium...but I can still see why comics are in the doldrums. If an enthusiast like me can be left scratching his head from a casual look at the shelves, I think we're in trouble.
I love graphic novels but what about kids? An average graphic novel costs something like twenty bucks. Not to wax prophetic but if there isn't more of an effort to cultivate new readers, this slide downward will continue.
I must be going about this all wrong - I never managed to get the boot from the high school paper. Granted, we had a very good faculty overseer, who went to bat for us with the principal and who invested real time and interest in what we turned out and how we wrote it - she was one of the few blessings of my small Catholic high school. Otherwise, the place was very good at surpassing my bullshit threshhold on a regular basis (Honor Society, Drama Club, and the school chaplin, who sold us out in '88 in a move worthy of Judas - but these are tales for another day.)
Jes - I'm sporadic in my frequency and eclectic in my tatses. I read Superman in "Action Comics" solely because I went to college with Joe Kelly (who's currently writing the book; we used to watch "Twin Peaks" back in the day; hell of a nice guy; here endeth the shameless name-dropping), and I manage the stray graphic novel here and there, depending on what catches my eye and my mood. My only problem with comics is keeping up with them in and among everything else. I'm already maxed out pursuing jazz reissues and my book backlog (total aside: would someone, anyone, do a nice, cost-effective, uniform and COMPLETE trade-paper reprint series of Donald Westlake (as Richard Stark)'s Parker novels? Some of them are proving as bothersome to run down as Bantam's high-numbered Doc Savage doubles...here endeth the annoying parenthetical asides.) I'm sure I'm missing some truly fantastic storytelling and artwork, but there simply isn't enough time or resource.
I noticed the passing of Joey Ramone; Sad. My taste in music runs elsewhere, but I know a couple of die-hard fans, and the band did lay the groundwork for many who followed their lead. I do have one small piece of their work in my collection, though: their guest appearance on "The Simpsons", singing "Happy Birthday" to Mister Burns. "Up yours, Springfield!" Indeed.
And it hardly got a mention anywhere else, but in case anyone here who cares hadn't heard: Time magazine reports the passing of Brother Theodore in their 4/16 issue.
Of course, when I say immedaitely, I mean immediately. (Bangs head against wall).
Hi all
Hope you're all doin' fine.
Mr. Ellison - Computers. Gagh. I've just lost a morning's work - I know exactly how it feels.
Alejandro/John - Comics are a big passion of mine, so here's my two cents. I have to agree with Alejandro here (do you frequent the Warren Ellis forum at all? I'm sure I've seen you there in my frequent visits...) - there's an abundance of riches to be had in modern comics. Indeed, there's so much good stuff going around that perhaps this is why it's hard to 'get into' the medium... Current recommendations from me include:
Planetary, Transmetropolitan (Spider Jerusalem is SO Glass Teat-era Ellison), Universe X, Hellblazer, Torso (a graphic novel re-telling of Elliot Ness' final case), Ultimate Spider Man, Barry Ween: Boy Genius, Strangehaven, Midnight Nation and, ooh, loads more.
As for all-time classics, those willing to take the plunge can do no better than immedaitely buying those titles that need no recommendation: The Sandman library, The Dark Knight Returns (in which our beloved Mr. E makes an appearance), Watchmen, the Preacher series, and, and, and... I could go on all day.
Despite the trouble the comics industry is in, critically speaking, it's never been better. I spend far too much each week on comics, and that's because there's so much good stuff around. Does anyone else buy comics? What does everyone read these days?
Well, best to all
Best regards
Jes
John:
I disagree. Even though the comic book industry is suffering one of the worst depressions ever, creatively speaking the medium has never been in better shape. Just take for example the industry's gradual move to an Original Graphic Novel/Trade Paperback format. Just read Warren Ellis' Transmetropolitan (contained in four volumes with a fith one coming out later this summer), Brian Michael Bendis' Jinx, Neil Gaiman's Violent Cases and Signal to Noise, all of Alexandro Jodorowsky's ouevre (beautifully bound in these humongous European albums courtesy of Humanoids Publishing), Brian Wood''s Channel Zero, Larry Young's Astronauts in Trouble, Bryan Talbot's The Tale of One Bad Rat, the Adventures of Luther Arkwright anf Heart of Empire, Darrick Robetson's Space Beaver…I could go on and on and on.
I personally like the idea of reading a self-contained 100+ pages graphic novel. Looks great on my bookshelf, reads as a real book and gives me hours of countless intelligent pleasure. Comics are and forever shall be the best, most self-contained piece of pop art and pop literature.
I was never really into comics but I still have fond memories of
Lil Lulu,Baby Huey,Richie Rich and "Illustrated Classics" being the only ones allowed to buy as a lil kid. OK so my folks were very selective as to outside reading material. But then when your mom and grandma both work at the local library I got to read alot of Science Fiction books from the Adult section way before I started shaving.
Ok favorite sayings of mine that I've picked up over the years
"Those are the breaks of Surface Warfare" - Yes I survived 14 yrs in the US Navy 1975-1989 and picked this one up on the USS Kawishiwi (AO-146) I use it every time I can't find the time to do something I wanted to get done on a particular day.
"Dang it Jim (or insert name of other person here) I'm a (insert current occupation here) not a Doctor" OK so I stole it from Dr.Leonard McCoy.
When I get a rather large bill in the mail I can be heard to mutter "TANSTAAFL" I picked that up from another great novel that begs to be a Movie.
And when my Computer acts up it's always the fault of those "little brown Moties!"
And my favorite phrase to the librarian stocking new books in the Science Fiction section of the library or book store.. "What's new to read from the Real World."
John Pickett
"Beware the Tick-Tock Man!"
This might seem like a tangential topic at first glance, but being that Harlan recently published a Batman story in "Gotham Nights," I think it fits.
What the hell has happened to the comics industry? I've been collecting comics since I was a boy but it's hard to maintain my enthusiasm these days. One thing that bothers me is that very few creators bother telling self-contained stories anymore. Comics, in the main, have become one long, never-ending soap opera.
Now that I'm an adult and have a life, I simply don't have time to keep up with these never-ending sagas. Recently, I stepped into a comics shop, determined to sample some new titles, and found a good portion of it almost incomprehensible. Alan Moore's ABC imprint is a step in the right direction but I see very few creators making the same inclusionary strides.
Call me nostalgic but I long for the days when comics were not only reasonably priced but aimed at a wide general audience. Now it seems like you have to be fluent in the comics arcana of the last twenty years to even keep up to speed.
By the way, I heartily recommend Harlan's story in Gotham Nights#13. The title escapes me at the moment but it simultaneously makes Batman seem more human and more terrifying. The conversation between the Dark Knight and Commissioner Gordon alone is worth the price of admission.
To Harlan:
After a week of self-imposed exile from the Ellison soirée I return to find what seems to be one of the few bastions left in the world of serenity and intellect. (Actually, I keeled a while ago and I’m here trying to wake myself). Between a calculus exam, the distraction of ex-girlfriend turmoil and one of the Stupid People (sounds like something from a Heinlein novel) running the White House and annoying me, this is a welcome retreat. Harlan, you were on a roll with finished entries - I thought you’d passed the Turing Test, or something - but I guess that black hole was still waiting for you in cyberspace after all.
Any reference to The Outer Limits (nay, not the new) or our old pals the Kyben gets me bangin’ on the keyboard. "IT BEGINS WITH A GRAIN OF SAND, AND ENDS WITH THE FATE OF THE HUMAN RACE": I totally love it. I could hear the cold intellectual eloquence of Vic Perrin doing the passage. From but one typically memorable excerpt I anticipate another beautiful script on its way and hope that it will actually reach filming before it can sink into the Holler’wood dust bins as several among your scripts have (I REALLY wanted to see ‘I, Robot’ filmed back in the 80’s!). It is my understanding that ‘Phoenix Without Ashes’, aka, the Starlost, is being reworked as well. The one detail I felt the original OL episode should have clarified a bit - even with just a throwaway line - is what technologically superior aliens from 1,000 years in the future are doing prancing around with primitive pistols. I mean the viewer is left to rationalize they’d obviously broken into a downtown armory or gunshop but to hear them express a reason for not bringing their own weapons through the mirror (e.g., fear of their technology being found in the 20th century, an element in the weapons that won’t transport through the mirror, etc.) would have given more dimension to their nature - their fears (for all their self-aggrandizement they really WERE monstrous cowards, man), their sense of caution in spite of their searing arrogance, and so on. The conflicting argument is that they’d already brought through some of their technology, like the force bubble. I imagine particulars like that are explored in the expanded movie version. One thing I’ll add, I’ve been a Robert Culp fan since I was a kid and the three OL episodes he did was one of the reasons.
BTW, we were going to rap about Bunuel. El (the one that made me begin disquieting zigzags when I went out on dates), Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie and Exterminating Angel are the stuff that made me a Bunuel freak. You may well know about this, but Bunuel got his burning inspiration to become a filmmaker from Fritz Lang’s ‘Destiny’ around - whenever the hell that was - maybe 1927.
Oh, and one more item: I still remember your anecdote about that guy who was trying to groove you into reading his new manuscript and I want to re-emphasize I ain’t in any way like that - in spite of my own pursuits. I’m very savvy about that issue and I respect your professional privacy (b’sides, I was already advised by an agent in BH). Believe me, I’m just a reader, a fan and a friend. Yet now that I have a new girlfriend who’d just moved into Sherman Oaks I just might drop off some art work for you to consider (along with the crystal-meth). I’ll just pass it off for delivery to the man-eating Rottweilers that are undoubtedly waiting for me at your gate.
Alejandro: Congrats! A very cool thing. Will put you on my crossed fingers list, too.
Re: Losing Joey Ramone. Truly a force, and an enormous loss; the chances of escaping the current bubble gum craze just dropped a thousand fold. But I think it's even sadder that some who purport to mourn him, who say they will miss that which his artistry and influence would have lent to the world, have to belittle their kudos to Joey's life and work with cheap slams against the living, whoever, for whatever reason. Very uncool and inappropriate in a eulogy, IMHO. Joey deserves better than this.
Rick: I thought about the small town where I spent all my childhood, and didn't come up so much better a group of impressions. Most of my memories seem to be of Underdog, Batman and the library. I think we may all be media damaged!
On that weekend topic of catch-phrases: I was home for Easter and lurking, but my Dad's connection wouldn't send the post, and I don't even want to guess what's wrong with his computer now. We had a long conversation, though and came up with these from our house, if anyone's interested.
"Son of a motherless goat!" My grandfather used to say this about the other dairy hands, when speaking in front of the little pitchers with big ears. I find it useful nowadays to refer to the incompetent son of a motherless goat in the IS department who crashes my computer every time he comes through the door.
"Gunky!" and "Stink!" are credited to Dr. William Cosby, as is "Right!"
"Toilet paper" was popular because a 9 year old will NEVER say asswipe in front of Granny. Not if she wants to live to be 10.
"Dirty Name!" is Mom's ubiquitous phrase, e.g., "That dirty name at that dirty name pharmacy dirty name charged the wrong dirty name price for your father's dirty name pills again! Dirty name!" Somehow, this isn't cursing. It's a puzzler.
However, Mom tells me she blames that dirty name Harlan Ellison for the answer she and Dad inevitably got (still get) whenever they were (are still) misguided enough to ask any one of their children "What [possible expletive deleted] are you doing?"
For the only possible answer a smart ass kid can give to such a question is: "Endeavoring to construct a mnemonic memory circuit using stone knives and bear skins." (Even if the kid is over 30, in the kitchen making ham and egg salad sandwiches from the Easter leftovers for the stupid ass basketball-fiending men, just to shut them up!) It is IRRESISTABLE. Just try it; see how it rolls off the tongue. It's PERFECT. Neil Simon never wrote such a line! I LOVE IT and I say it all the time. At least every other day, someone asks me "What are you doing?" and gets my favorite catch-phrase. Maybe I owe a royalty…
Of course, Mom hates it worse than puddled dog poop on shag carpeting, and has since 1974. But hey, you let your kids watch TV reruns unattended, who knows what they'll pick up?
Alas, Joseph but no, there is no English-language version of the story. We used to provide English translations of some of my a&e stories through a special Exito page designed by our friends at Metromix but that page went the way of many a good idea: filed somewhere in Lucien's library of forgotten books and ideas.
(Metromix, for those outside Chicago, is the Chicago Tribune's online a&e/weekend guide. My bosses thought it would be a swell idea to piggyback our a&e content on Metromix's site. I input and updates a lot of the Latin events into their; while a translator would take my stories and literally translate them from Spanish into English. And by literally, I mean that. Literally. I had to then revise those translations and modify them in such a way that they captured the essence of what I wrote, something a literal translation sometimes cannot do. All the work I put into this project went to naught. The site never quite took off in part because there was never any coherent marketing/advertising strategy for it.
Hell is other people; some more than others. The world is a darker place for Joey Ramone's absence, and darker still for George Dubya Bush's presence. For those viewers keeping score at home, here's a running account of the atrocities. Bad grammar is the least of our worries...
http://www.wage-slave.org/scorecard.html
Mitch
Thanks Harlan er Mr. Ellison it was worth the wait. Somehow that call made 36 years seem just like yesterday. Thanks for a life time of writing that produced for me a life full of fond memories.
Harlan,
Re: school newspapers. Nailed me dead to rights. We didn't have a school newspaper, but I was nearly thrown out of the national honor society chapter a few times when my bullshit tolerance level was exceeded.
I wish there'd been a forum such as this when I was in my teens. Feedback that I was on the right track would have been very welcome. As I recall, I was in danger of being handed my ass on a regular basis, by my parents, other students, teachers, clergy. (Mine was a Catholic high school.)
Anyway, thanks,
Bill
Anyone notice that Joey Ramone died on Sunday night? Out of all the people in this world that need to die (Dick Cheney, Augusto Pinochet, Jerry Falwell,) he was so very low on the list, and that's what makes it so sad... so unfair. The world never knew what was bestowed upon it when the Ramones saved rocknroll by inventing punk. And they probably won't realize that American music has lost a little piece of its rocknroll soul with Joey gone. I won't wax poetic about punk rock, but just be glad Joey and Co. were around to give music the kick in the ass it sorely needed in 1976, or you'd ALL be listening to Yes albums and sporting Eagles t-shirts.
Hope you're havin' fun, Joey.
16 April 2001:
HE, back again, for the memorable Part Two of
THE GREAT LOST MESSAGE, uh, well, MESSAGE:
Jeff Homes: what I went on about, at tedious but grammatically
precise length, before I lost the whole bleedin'
mishmosh, was to welcome you to the environs, and to note that
it's nice to have a cogent and civilized member of The Younger
Generation hereabouts, if for no other reason than to check
out the correctness of the latest slanguage. Word. And while
we're at it, could you explain the charm of those annoying, poncey Mentos commercials?
And a bit of verbiage that might have gotten past the rest of this looney crew (since I've been so deified by Mr. Wyatt for my
auctorial attention to detail that I feel emboldened to exercise my Holmesian deductive muscles), caught my attention; and it seemed ripe as an entree to yet another excursion in musing. And it was this, Jeff:
You mentioned, en passant, that you were off to do some work on
the school newspaper, or somesuch. And I made a bet with myself
that if we had a show of hands, more than half the people in this
chat-group...if they worked on their school newspaper or journalism journal or literary journal...were kicked off, as was I.
I'd be willing to bet that most of you who read my work on a regular basis, and go back to high school for your first introduction to my stuff, are precisely and exactly the kind of boys'n'girls who were hobbled, reprimanded, chastised and otherwise punished for "making waves," "challenging
authority," "infracting the regulations of this school," or in general writing something that rocked the boat, made fun of pedagogues and martinets, raised an embarrassing gardyloo, or in general acted with a rebellious 'tude. Am I correct? Have I tapped a common element among us?
And if, Jeff, you wonder why I raise this, well, it's because I'm here to warn you: watch your step, plan your moves carefully, get the facts on your side before you open the trap or your mouth, be prepared for viliifcation from the spineless and mediocre who MUST protect the status quo, and don't expect any help. So when you choose to make an ethical stand--and you will, son, you will--it's only a matter of time before they hit your bullshit-acceptance level--make deadly certain
it's a stand for something that uses your clout and your sanity and your standing in the school community to anoble and high purpose. Do not back into a situation in which whatever it is that you win is piddling. Don't use full-out power on piddleshit. Outwit them or outsmart them on the little schemes. Use the Big Bertha only when you have to take out their Maginot Line.
(The arcane references can be looked up in the Britannica.)
Now, on to other postings.
Alex Berman: Oh, this one is terrific. Follow my logic here. First, you extend a few mild, pleasant complimentary remarks.
Nothing particularly slavish. And then you mitigate it--in an awkward rigadoon mildly embarrassing to yourself, if you have the sense--with suggesting that I might, just possibly, be the Uber-Asshole of All Assholes. (Now, please, son, we both know that not to be a viable analysis. I'm an exemplary person, and we both understand that.)
But here comes "your ladylove," sashaying through the room, and she cops a peek at what you've posted, and she opines (using your words only) tha what you've generated appears to her as a "pedantic rant, perhaps designed to massage the edges of Harlan's ego." And YOU ask: "Do I have to listen to her, just because she's a psychologist?"
Now follow my logic here.
"Do I have to listen to her?" Probably. If you want to continue getting laid. Also, it's courteous. Do you have to accept her glib on-the-run vestpocket analysis? Absolutely not. Apart from the fact that she's a psycholoGIST and not a psychoANALYST, she ought to know better than to make such off-the-cuff uninformed observations. She may know you some, but she knows me not at all. (At least not in any firsthand, psychoanalytic manner that would properly inform her casual put-down of your absolutely innocent words.
I think her comment was skewed, as is her perception. Why do I say this? Well, follow my logic here. Does she truly perceive that your calling me the "Uber-Asshole of All Assholes" in some demented
way balms my ego? Which seems the more tenable: that she was being
randomly cruel to you, or that her perception of me is that I'm a
gibbering dullard to whom base canards are as pomegranate juice?
Now, Alex...listen up. I do not want to get in the middle of your
romantic situation, kiddo, but you seem to me a perfectly jaunty
fellow, and if I were you, I'd never let her see this response.
But I do know just a skosch about male/female sparring; and if
someone had dropped a lug like that on me...well, I'd give it some
careful thought. Just a suggestion. From one Uber-Asshole to
another.
I'll be back for Part Three of these replies. Be patient.
yr. pal, Harlan.
Oh, and the infamous Siamese Twins were Eng-in and Chang Chung Bunker (Eng and Chang), of Barnum & Bailey fame. To quote from an interesting web page about the two:
"After many childhood and adult illness, including a stroke suffered by Chang, the twins shared their lives until the end when on a cold January 17, 1874, Eng woke to find his brother cold. When he realized Chang was dead, Eng began to sweat and feel faint. He died a short time later. They are buried in the White Plains Church Cemetery in Surry County, NC. The church they
helped to establish and build."
Sorry about the bad grammar, but the facts are correct. Anyone else wanting to learn more about the brothers can look at:
http://www.wilkesboro.com/OldWilkesInc/engchang.htm
or
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Garden/3403/twins/story.html
Alejandro-
Congratulations on your nominations! I just wish I read Spanish, as I would actually have loved to have read your eulogy for Tito Puente. I'll admit that I was first really exposed to Mr. Puente's music through the Simpsons (Senor Buuuuuuuuurrrrns!), but I grew to really love his wonderful body of work. I don't suppose that I am...ahem....lucky enough that there is an English version of your story?
Alejandro! Congrats my man. Here's hoping that I'll be celebrating something other than my birthday that friday. I won't have a beer (don't drink) but I'll sure raise a glass to you. Excellent work my friend. Most excellent.
---Peter
Congratulations, Alejandro! Great news. Will keep all available digits crossed for you.
Also, a correction on my earlier post: Just caught an episode of THE SIMPSONS tonight with the aforementioned aliens. Apparently, I get my cartoon creatures and my famous siamese twins confused. It's Kang and Kodos. Not Kang and Ang (and yeah, I know those aren't the twins' names, but they're kinda close!).
I scanned thru some recent postings, and there they were, the words that lept off the screen:
"Getting thrown off your high school newspaper."
Many of us had the same careers advisors that M. Izzard described in "Dress to Kill"..."and the careers advisor would come to school and tell us, 'I advise you to get a career, what can I say?'"
Travel back back with me, ladies and gennelmen, to the 70's (alright early 70's, I copped to it, you happy?). My junior year was spent as the front page editor of the school's weekly, also providing the occasional editorial cartoon or special banner design. Back in the days (hear in your head the voice of Julius Crystal/Miracle Max as you read), back in the days before the fancy-shmancy computers, when paste-up involved cutting up the galleys and a large pot of rubber cement.
So's there's this meeting, see, with the faculty advisor, the senior photo editor, the senior managing editor and me. The faculty advisor, she says, "You boys are putting out a very booooorrring publication." The managing editor (what does he care, he's going to State U. next year)asks her, "What can we do to make it better?" and the photographer says "Yeah." Very eloquent, just like that; Mark Rothko fan, I guess.
So the faculty advisor replies, "I don't know, I just know it could be better." And the words which appeared on the tombstone of my journalism career, got me banned from the English department for a semester: "Well, since it's your job as faculty advisor, why don't you ADVISE us?"
It was worth it.
CUL8R
Fellow webderlanders:
Some good news to share. I am proud to announce that I have been chosen as a finalist in the Chicago Headline Club's 2000 Peter Lisagor Awards for Exemplary Journalism for two stories in the Spanish-Language Features Category: "Fusion musical" (a story on the Chicago Symphony Orchestra's Armonia program which united members of the folk ensemble Sones de Mexico with the CSO's brass quintet) and "Cuando los timbales callaron", my cover story on Tito Puente's death. The winners will be announed at the annual awards banquet April 27, 2001.
Have a beer on me tonight, please.
Good news, Harlan: it really _is_ the furshlugginer machine that's at fault. You're not losing messages because you're new at this. You're losing them because after all these years, these programs are still written with lots of wonderful little control keys and other conveniences designed to wipe out an hour's work in a second. This is the curse of computers. A really fast typist who doesn't think in programing terms is always at risk of hitting a key-code written for the convenience of the average stumble-fingered typist. Trust me on this: I became a nafka to these damnable machines fully two decades ago, and I _still_ manage to kill messages halfway through, generally with a heartfelt shriek of "YOU SON OF ROTTED RAT'S CORPSE" or if the kids are in earshot, "Aw darn."
Anyway, I mentioned this message thread at the dinner table, and the aoresaid munchkins report that I use far more odd expressions than I imagined. Apparently, I'm given to saying, "May the bird of paradise fly up your nose," when people sneeze. And, when pretending astonishment, my wife and I are prone to breaking out into song in harmony: "Jeepers, Creepers...." Maybe I'm getting old faster than I thought.
Jeesh....I go away and HE shows up? Enough to feed the ever-incipient paranoia....out of all the expressions I've overused one of my favorites is from the long-ago SNL skit about the hypnotist on Broadway who got people to say: "I laughed....I cried....it was better than 'Cats'....I'm going to see it....again....and again." It has come to mean everything from "I'm brain-dead right now" to "I've been completely fooled" to "I've never been so bored" to "This program/film/whatever isn't as hot as everyone thinks it is" and more, depending on the intonation and context. Another thing I am apparently famous for among friends is saying (loudly and sarcastically) "DINGDINGDINGDING" whenever the Obvious is Proven Yet Again, although I didn't notice it myself and it's not a neat catchphrase like "Driver goes for gas" or something.
Great rant, Rick....I've missed them....
I still can't believe HE is on the board (and yeah, I think it's HE. The immaculate punctuation, the tone of "voice" and above all the use of "farblondjet" lead to but one conclusion). When did this happen? Where was I? Under what rock?
--moi
Guess what. Lost part 2. All of it. Sh]$#@(fu+%!~hell#@!!!
I'll come back later, when my anger has worn off, with replies to young Jeff Homes and Alex Berman and Bill Forrester and Kerry from Downunder and Finder and Chris L and Peg and Jes, and I may even tell you about the phone call I made to John Pickett, who posted earlier today, after 36 years. But right now, I'm pissed off at having lost a really nifty reply to Jeff Homes, about being kicked off one's high school newspaper.
I shall return. Grrrrr. Maybe.
Moronically, ineptly, yr. hamhanded pal, Harlan.
I've been posting on this board for about three years now and I have said this on many occasions -- even wrote about it in that cheesy little story I donated to the site a couple years ago -- this is one of the few havens of sanity I've found on the web. Sure we get heated on occasion, but very rarely do we get the kind of venom and vitriol found in such constant measure on USENET or other less civilized islands of the Sibersilica. (It's cool to have a name for the internet that's all mine.) For that I've always been grateful to Der Webdermeister Rick. (hey, it says don't feed the Ellison. Nothing wrong with kissing up to the site's host.)
As for people not believing in Ellison's presence on here, well, I addressed that two years ago when he first popped on to a rash of "is it him? is it really HE?" There is always going to be some incredulity whenever anyone of any notoriety makes their presence known online. While Rick would probably put the kibosh on any such shenanigans here, the chaos of most posting boards and newsgroups wouldn't have any recourse against someone claiming to be, say, Stephen King: "hey Im steeve kinge. if yoo want a coppy ov mie neckst buuk, send mee yoor emale addresssss and yoor creddet carrd nummber"
I guess that's why I love this place so much. This is a place where I can trust, feel safe, and not worry about being tossed around in the stormy seas of the Sibersilica and smashed into rocks crawling with all the Homerian terrors of the internet that breed mistrust with their promises of succor and their Siren songs.
---Peter
Catch phrases! Ah, here's a topic I can sink my teeth into. (Almost wrote "into which I can sink my teeth," but then my inner grammer gnome told me not to be so darn stilted.)
I think my best and most all-purpose expression is akin to HE's "Holy Gadzooley..." Only mine is "Holy Flurkin' Snit," which comes from one of the Halloween episodes of THE SIMPSONS. It was voiced by either Kang or Ang (those copiously-salivating aliens) upon the discovery that his daughter, Maggie Simpson, has made first contact. I will confess, too, to the occasional, "D'oh!"
Other favorites:
The counterpart to one that has been posted here already: "Inconceivable!" from THE PRINCESS BRIDE.
(One of my all-time favorite books and up there among my favorite films. I remember getting my hands on the Goldman classic in high school and starting kind of a mini-PB-cult w/ some of my friends. Lots of talk of iocane powder, six-fingered counts, and the like. If you haven't read the book, I recommend it, as much for the subversive, hilarious, framing device Goldman employs as for the meat of the story itself. Also, props to William Goldman for having the guts to openly declare SAVING PRIVATE RYAN a piece of misguided junk.)
And another Wally Shawnism: "So, that was CHRISTMAS" said in as close an approximation to his voice as one can muster.
Lots of others come to mind, but in no particular order:
"You know the chicken at Tresky's?" This comes from another of my favorite films, Woody Allen's LOVE AND DEATH. My husband and I use it as a sort of code for when one of us is in a miserable or awkward social situation and is trying to communicate its sheer awfulness without those around us knowing. In the film, Diane Keaton asks Woody how death is treating him, and he says, basically, that it's worse than the chicken at Tresky's. So, for example, my husband might say, "How are things going w/ your cousins" and I'd say, "You know the chicken at Tresky's?"
"Yeah, I want to be trampled by horses." Also LOVE AND DEATH.
"I'll meet you by the place where we went for that thing that time." From BROADCAST NEWS.
"What, the curtains?" From MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL. Only we've taken to saying it in this weird Southern/Boston/Lithium-soaked kind of voice, in imitation of my college roommate doing a British accent.
"What's he do? Nibble yer bum." Also from HOLY GRAIL.
Well, I could go on, but I'll save a few bytes for the rest of you. :) Interesting to read these, though!
Over and out,
Lorin O.
While my childhood memories are still pretty fresh in my mind (twenty-three, here I come, eleven days and counting)I cannot recall any personal phrases I may have cribbed from that era that remain with me now. I know I used to say a lot of obscure things in my youth, usually earning me a strange look from anyone nearby, but I'll be buggered if I can remember any of them. I was raised on television and videogames like any good child of the 80s and like anyone in their twenties today I will respond to the phrase "So now you know" with "and knowing is half the battle, yo joe" but that's a generational response, and not personal or obscure by any means.
I suppose the closest I've got to obscure sayings out of childhood are my replacement curses from when I was young and uncomfortable with the concept of swearing in general. That was all cured when I got to high school, but even today I'll still say "gosh darnit," "shucks," "sheesh," "geeze," "heck," "golly gee willikers," and "darnit all to heck."
Actually, that list has made me remember one phrase from childhood that has stuck with me. Whenever I would say "so" in response to something my mother said, she would respond with "buttons on your underwear." That's a phrase I still catch myself saying from time to time.
I'm sure there are more. In fact, I know there is a whole collection buried deep within the file cabinets of my brain, probably in that crack between the back wall of the cabinet and the drawer, wedged in place and covered in cobwebs. Usually a phrase will come out of my mouth unbidden in a moment when my attention is focused on other things, and I'll quickly forget about it. Now I'll probably be paying a little more attention.
---Peter
The Real Harlan here, Monday morning the 16th of April:
Kept checking yesterday for postings, and most of the day there was nothing . . . this checking-in, of course, as breaktime from writing the treatment for DEMON WITH A GLASS HAND: The Motion Picture. (Even came up with a nice advertising "log-line":
IT BEGINS WITH A GRAIN OF SAND,
AND ENDS WITH THE FATE OF THE HUMAN RACE.
Heaven only knows if Miramax/Dimension Films will go for it, but as the introductory page to submission of the treatment, it looks nifty on that vast white expanse.)
And one of the recurring subtexts of (not a great many, but) a few people's postings over the last few months--as well as the guy who mentioned it as I was signing his book in the I-Con line a couple of weeks ago--is the surprise expressed by a startled minority that these messages are actually from me, and not the fevered practical jokes of some idiot poseur trying to pull the bytes over your eyes. How sad that this astonishing implement for instant communication worldwide should be so rife with irresponsible jackanapery that no one can 100% trust the veracity of identity of any given posting.
That saddens me.
But what gladdens me is that this is unarguably one of the most literate, goodhearted, communal chatrooms I've encountered. Whether because of Rick's paladinship, or the sheer decency of all of you, quickly driving out the meanspirited and contumelious . . . well, it's just nice to get together here, however irregularly, to gibberjabber at one another. And so, to that very task:
Rick: You know me one-on-one well enough to know I blow no smoke up your kilt when I aver a total dicombobulation in the presence of compliments. I lurch into pure Jimmy Stewart/Gary Cooper "aw shucks" toe-in-the-dust-scraping when approbation wings my way. Insults, canards, opprobrium--I may not batten on it, may not like it, may be dismayed by it--but I've had long and slash-ridden experience with it. (Once having breathed the same air as Groth or Priest or Platt or others I care not mention, one finds oneself less a human being than before the encounter, less kind, less hopeful, less forgiving . . . which is the essence of the curse they visit upon you . . . and jousting with the Bearers of Bad Cess becomes second, feral, nature.) But praise unmans me. And so, I'll eschew any comment on that aspect of your new rant, which I take to be a marvelous piece of insight and recollection.
It is rich, it is well-written, it is thoughtful in the most positive literary and human way; and it makes an observation about my writing process that I suppose I was dimly aware of--in that way one is aware of process without actually studying or analyzing it--that I found so acute, well, I called Gary K. Wolfe, the friend-academic who has written the study of my stories to be published by (of all places) Ohio State University Press, and I commended it to his attention for a smart insight. He's reading it now.
Beyond the recognition that your skills as a writer have progressed on an asymptotic curve since last I paid attention to what you were doing scrivenerwise, I am enormously grateful for the good thoughts passim the essay; and I urge you to get back to the writing as soon as you've tended to life-matters that may have temporarily derailed you.
I'm going to post this now, before I respond to everyone else's entries, on the Chaos Theory that the moment I get it all proofed for typos, something will go wrong, and I'll lose it all, as so many times previously. So I'll go now. I'll be back in a moment.
Yr. pal, Harlan.
Hi all,
Hope you're all fine. Blimey - go away for a week and the message board goes nutso! It's nice to see I'm not the only newbie trying to make as polite-as-possible an intrusion into this happy little family....
Mr. Ellison: I'm pleased to hear that you're a fan of Mr. Eddie Izzard. I've often wondered if his particular brand of stream-of-consciousness surreality is too 'British' for the American psyche - Cats drilling holes behind sofas, James Mason as God, and so on - and now I know it isn't! I don't know how many of his works are available in the US, but there's four or five VHS performances available over here, along with audio tapes. And did you know he made a short-lived TV Sitcom called Cows (it, uh, featured cows instead of people)? It unfortunately didn't last.
Mrs Ellison: I noticed the name Larry Young on your list of HERC members - is this the same Larry Young behind the excellent Astronauts in Trouble comics? Whilst I've never met the man, he does frequent the Warren Ellis forum (found at www.warrenellis.com), and I guess it'd be dead easy to get in touch with him.
As for odd sayings, I have nothing amusingly impenetrable to bring to the table, but I can often be heard exclaiming "Shit the bed!" when my PC packs up at work. Which is often.
And finally, a question - how many posters here are from the UK? I seem to recall Peg mentioned something about UK HE fans a while back... and just how can we entice you over to our Ellison-deprived isle, Mr Ellison?
Well, that's all for now. Keep well, everyone.
Best regards
Jes
Chris L.-
Your phrase from Full Metal Jacket reminds me of a phrase from the wonderful book "The F-Word," compiled by Jesse Sheidlower (lexicographer for Random House):
"You look like a monkey trying to fuck a football out there!
I've been using that phrase a lot at White Sox players, as you can imagine. Thank God we're only 11 games in.....
Phrases dredged from my childhood? I have two, actually; both of them come from my sainted mother, who doesn't swear. A good pre-Vatican II Roman Catholic (though even she's coming around with the stresses on the United States Catholic church right now), she uses two phrases when something really ticks her off:
"Jimminy Christmas"
and the one that I still tend to use when something is going difficultly (and I swear like a longshoreman):
"God bless it!"
Hi everyone,
Dan Thorne checking in. HARLAN: I can fix your electrical problem quite easily in exchange for a tour of your--Oh wait! Been there, done that. Think I'll pass this time. Not too keen on the welcome wagon you folks have out there.
On a serious note, I just want to thank everyone for their kind words and missives about the story of my arrest while visiting Harlan. I came late to this party and didn't know that word of my story had spread to this board so soon. And Harlan, you and I have an open invitation from a female officer in Colorado Springs to tour their lovely prison facilities from the other side of the bars. I didn't think you'd mind my politely declining the invitation for both of us. I think we can agree there's a greater likelihood of snowballs in hell before that invitation would be accepted by either of us.
Also, I'm not sure whether to thank all the people or not who keep suggesting new subtitles. Last recommendation I got was "I Have No Mouth, And I Must Call My Attorney" OY!
Lastly, shameless plug. Regular readers here are probably already familiar with the story, but just in case anyone is not, here's the url again:
IDOL WHORESHIP: Selling My Soul For Harlan Ellison And Landing In Jail
http://home.talkcity.com/BookmarkBlvd/lamp_shadey/index3.html
**Rick - just read the rant. Very well done, and for me very timely. For a long time I've known I had very few memories of my childhood (before the teens) but I've caught myself thinking about my wasted youth recently. Maybe it's because I'll turn (*gasp*) 35 this year. Or because I work so many hours it seems I never have time to do much eslse. Or because I have a sets of friends I leave behind with each relocation, and there's always some who just fade into the mists. And so I've been getting flashes of memories.
For a while I thought I was beginning to understand that saying, "youth is wasted on the young", but I realized it was only *my* youth that was wasted when I was young, doing much of what you talked about - I was a TV generation kid and still spend far too much time in front of the thing - and not really thinking or paying attention to much of what went on around me.
Cannibal brain indeed.
Peg
Quickie post for the moment, back later with more...
**Hrlan: Loved "Making a Living", been years since I thought of it though. Completely missed the reference.
**Posting habits - if anything I post more often, but there's an offset due to the time difference. It's not as fun posting after the conversation has ended.
**Phrases - got a ton of 'em, and some special words too. Of course, now that you've asked, my mind has gone blank. I'll get back to you when I've time for a proper post. (BTW, Harlan, just what background were you refering to??) I have noticed that more of them get strange looks here in the UK - they just don't have all the cultural references. Then again, a lot of their expressions leave me in the dust. Especially when you consider the number of Scottish/Gaelic/Doric phrases used in local idiom.
- Susan - I'll check my couch cushions for those missing members. *giggle*
- Alejandro - you think you're a talker?? I'm a short, female, half-sicilian, half-redneck raised in Southern California! (I only mention the short female thing because I notice that short women tend to make up for diminuitive size with personality and proclivity for speech. Maybe this explains your sister??) If it doesn't show here, the cause is similar to what others have mentioned - just don't know squat about the topic at hand (e.g., comics - a frequent topic of which I know near nothing).
And this was the short post!
Peg
Harlan,
I'm a frequent reader but only occasional contributor at this forum. I haven't changed my posting habits at all since you showed up except for occasionally addressing a post "Harlan," but I read the forum more regularly than before because you're posting here.
As for the catch phrase, I used to go around saying "Shall we play a game?" in the metallic sing-songy voice of Joshua the computer from War Games. I had a bit of an obsession with that movie as a kid partly because I identified with the Matthew Broderick character, mostly because I fixated on Ally Sheedy as my first bonafide crush.
I still say it from time to time and nobody ever gets the reference. I haven't seen the movie since I was kid but I remember it as a masterpiece and that's how it will always remain fixed in my memory.
Of course no film sequence offer more useful catch phrases than the extending opening sequence of Full Metal Jacket with R. Lee Ermey's tour de force performance. "You climb obstacles like old people fuck" can be adapted to almost any life situation with amazing effectiveness.
Walk up to a stranger and say "I like you. You can come over to my house and fuck my sister any time." Then punch him in the stomach. It's a sure-fire way to win friends and influence people.
In fact, the phrase "You like the sort of man who would fuck another man in the ass and not even have the common courtesy to give him a reach-around!" is considered the only polite way to thank your host in many cultures.
My mom passed away about two months ago and my dad and I and family were going through old books files and the mass of stuff accumulated over her 64 years. When I was ten or so I was reading one of Harlan's books or story collections anyway in the preface or somewhere was a phone number in California to reach Harlan.
Well being a big FAN of his I decided to call and tell him that I really liked his book and stories. Well when the person answered
I asked to speak to "Mr. Ellison" and when asked I remember telling her Tell him John Pickett his best and biggest fan in Florida is calling. After being told he was busy I thanked her and hung up as I heard my mom coming to see what I was up too.
Well to make it short later when we got the phone bill I owned up to the call and had to pay for it out of my allowence & do yard work too. Well anyway I found that bill with the call circled my mom had kept it all these years (ok about 34 years give or take a few). I am keeping it and just wanna thank Harlan for allowing me to remember that incident so long ago forgotten!
Rick:
Re: The forum message board. Are you using a model more akin to the Delphi Forums? Is it going to replace the traditional bulletin board or will it work as a complement to the bulletin board?
By the way, lovely, lovely essay. The first few paragraphs really hit home. Ever since Harlan posted his challenge this afternoon I have been trying to recall many a thing from my childhood and adolescence and have come to realize how much I have managed to bury in some deep recess of my brain. Been trying to recall old TV programs, people I used to admire, experiences, sensations and at time have come up blank. So, yes, memory can be a bitch, especially when you did not pay any attention to your surroundings at all, your attention drifting to things that seemed more important at the time (in my case books and movies and the need to collect the money that my customers owed me in my paper route to buy those very same books and go to those movies.)
Back from the Easter visit with family (the role of tour guide to the nation’s capitol fulfilled by yours truly), with my shiny new two cents to throw in...
I have nothing to add (for the time being) with regards to radio interference and electronics, but I’ll extend the poles and see what I can catch in the nets if your electrician can’t nail it down in his pending visit, Harlan.
I remember "It’s A Living" fondly, to the point that I could still give you a large portion of the theme from memory; and I can still recall how Wendy Schaal, cast casualty after the first ABC season, made my twelve year old heart skip a beat or two with that smile (I’ve always been a sucker for the girl next door). So that THAT was the source of the Betty Spaghetti expression comes as a bit of a surprise - though I did lose track of the series in syndication...
My grandmother, to coin a phrase, had a million of them. "Crazy as a red-assed bee" and "your mother wasn’t a glass-blower" spring to mind, though in my rush-rush-go-go life, the one I use most is "busier than Aunt Kate’s cat covering sh*t on a hardwood floor". Wonderful woman, Aunt Kate. Could eyeball an expensive dress in the store window and then create a beautiful duplicate from memory, by hand. Alas, her cat - whose name has been lost to the ages - is recalled only for its post-excretory freneticism.
And when I can use "post-excretory freneticism" in a sentence, I KNOW it’s waaaaaay past my bedtime...
Hey guys - been enjoying the conversation here. Didn't want to intrude
much, just wanted to let you know I'm planning on doing some site updating over
the next few weeks and wanted to see what you guys were interested in. I've
archived this board (at 350k I'm sure it was taking
up some load time) and I've also written a new rant,
"Harlan Ellison vs. the Cannibal Brain"
(it's a short one this time, but I'm at least going to try to start doing them
monthly again). In the pipe is a new review from David Loftus, revamping of
the bibliographic database to work under the new servers, and a forum-based
alternate messageboard. Let me know what you guys would like to see!
Hello all,
I’ve been visiting for a short time only, mostly lurking while I gauge the “tone” of the Bulletin Board. Its like the new guy trying to break into a group of old friends; you don’t want to say or do anything stupid. Also, there’s some conversation threads I just couldn’t add to. From the number of posts recently from people de-lurking, I would imagine there are many more silent partners out their, all who enjoy the content of the posts, but hold back on the posting.
Now, one of the things I find especially enjoyable about the board is the contributions from Harlan Ellison. When I read my first one (Mr Ellison’s post), I will admit to a slight disbelief . I wondered “is this for real?”. When the board continued on in an unflustered and accepting way, affirming this as the norm, I admit to a certain pleasure that HE (did I get that double cap thing right?) was on the board sharing his thought’s and comments with us here.
Having said that, I think I can see where your coming from with your reasoning on unsettling things, and to a certain extent it may be that people are now thinking “My God, if I post on the board Harlan will read it…will it be good enough to bare his steely gaze…OH WOE IS ME”, but really people, relish the fact that the reason you’re been drawn here wants to talk to us like a regular guy, which we all are, just regular guys and gals. Now that you have arrived Harlan, the board would only be diminished by your leaving. Please do not stop posting! . My only hesitation in posting to the board was, as previously stated, not wanting to put my foot in my mouth with ALL the regulars.
Having prattled on for a bit, Id like to thank to The Finder, Punkviper and Jes for the information on ordering Harlan’s books. Somewhere between Australia and the USA is a HERC order form with my name on it. Punkviper, I took your lead and went for the “Dreams with Sharp Teeth” volume, as it seems a good place to start. (See, told you all I haven’t been here long. I don’t even own a book by Harlan yet.)
As for phrases from my youth that have stuck with me, its weird what stays with you. On a white board in a shop was scrawled “ Well done Larry, 6 out of 10 for effort”.
Well done >, 6 out of 10 for effort has been with me since then.
Well, that’s it. Time to once more disappear into the ether. You all keep writing and Ill keep reading. That includes YOU, Mr Ellison.
Kerry
First, no comments on issues electronic. My beloved keeps trying to get me to fix things around the house. And I remind her, "You've met my father, darlin', you KNOW he didn't teach me a damn thing." So far, she has managed to persuade me in a loving and gentle manner to tackle some tasks that I would have thought I was incapable of, such as reparing a car radiator. Persistant little minx...
Second, regarding catch phrases:
"You keep saying that, but I do not think it means what you think it does."
"Apparently, there is no end to my hypocrisy."
"Sometimes it's better to be lucky than good."
Third, in response to the question, "Does the presence of HimsElf inhibit conversation in this forum?" Well, I recently did try to introduce the topic of Eddie Izzard and his humor, and Mr. Ellison was one of the few to respond to that. And yes, I'm posting under the name of a character from the film "Finding Forrester" (and those of you who know my true identity, please keep it to yerselves) which is slightly liberating.
But, no, Harlan, speaking only for myself, if what is written here is of interest to you or anyone else here, and someone responds, that's great, jimmies on the sunday. If it is ignored, no problem. And should I express something which upsets you or anybody else, you have merely to point it out and I'll pick up the phone to apologize.
I almost shook hands with the guy in the long dark robe and the sickle this year. You know what that's like Harlan, it wasn't that many years ago (and you're right, if there is a god, he's a thug). That experience was very liberating; it makes you appreciate every day. Every chance to express and discuss what you believe, what you doubt, what you question, and to hear what others have to say. You cherish every day you come home to the person who promised to spend the rest of her life with you.
My college-student son called today just to tell me he missed me and to say "I love you, Dad" (I musta done something right; damned if I can remember what it was). And I get to spend every day with the missus, who's the most amazing person I ever met.
Ain't life grand? You betcha
See ya 'round
*reads Alejandro's guava paste reference, recalls the story of Peter David's reaction to it, and has a good chuckle*
Hello board!
I saw 'O Brother Where Art Thou?' a few weeks ago. If you're looking for a good fix of weird, go see it (if you can find it). Besides the Coen brothers' offbeat humor, the movie has a winning soundtrack (Depression-era blues, folk, gospel, etc), and some beautiful imagery (the Siren scene is enchanting).
As for Eddie Izzard, hear hear! 'Dress to Kill' was all that and a bag of chips. Cake or death, indeed...
Mitch
Hmm. Whole chunk-a-lotta stuff going on.
First, anyone but me notice just how much Harlanation was going on in this month's LOCUS?
I saw no less than three separate articles with Harlan on top of them--one on the KICK Fund, one on something else (sorry for the lack of specificity; I'm over my ladylove's apartment), and one in which he was one of many eulogizing the tragic passing of editor Jenna Felice.
(and damn, wasn't that a shame to hear about ... sad, sad, sad when the good go early.)
Second, Harlan, I don't think it's a case of being overly intimidated by your presence on the board--hell; a good third of the regulars here have already made your mad acquaintance, anyway (as I would have, had I had the money for ICON).
For myself, I've had LOTS of stuff going on on my plate of late (note ladylove mentioned above), and I've not been posting as much as I've been reading.
And yes, Harlan, you ARE my favorite writer--but this in no way means that I think you infallible, however much you may pontiff-icate--nor do I necessarily think of you as the BEST writer ever. That'd be the Sturgeons, or Bradburies, or Updikes. But I don't generally ENJOY their stuff as much as I do yours.
None of which could in any way mean that you are not the Uber-Asshole of all Assholes, or that I might even find I don't much like you, were I to meet you. Doesn't matter. I like your writing, and I like the minds of the people here on this board. And that's why I'm here, whether I'm posting or no.
(The ladylove has just walked back into the room, glanced at the screen, and remarked that I'm actually not so much giving the asked-for honest feedback as I am "going off on a pedantic rant, perhaps designed to massage the edges of Harlan's ego". Do I have to listen to her, just because she's a psychologist?)
Lastly, my catchall word/phrase is "Nerts." Spoken with any number of inflections or modifiers, it can handle almost every human experience ...
(The distinct feeling that all this eavesdropping--"lurking"--is downright impolite just wouldn't go away. So. Right. Hallo, everybody.)
I haven't had much time to really acquire any such thing to say when I'm shocked, angry, etc., owing to the fact that I'm only 16, and instead of amusing phrases, all I get from my ever-so-stimulating peers is the ol' "holy (bodily function du jour goes here)!"
Under the stress of deadline week (my journey to an early grave has already started--I'm on the staff of a scholastic newspaper) (or, if you must, the rag a buncha' them damn teenagers insist be published) I'll mutter, on occasion, "...And everybody has a share," or, "Oh, well... suicide is painless, I s'pose" from time to time; the former because Catch-22 was the first book to show me the full extent to which the written word can be used to provoke thought and simultaneously deprive one of air by way of laughter, the latter because of a fondness for what some consider the lesser cousin of the, uh, the former (yes, even its television incarnation--especially its television incarnation) for which I refuse to apologize. Even if they make less than complete sense in whatver context they're used, both the memory of their origins and the odd looks they garner are a source of personal amusement.
Yes, that last paragraph was, indeed, two sentences long. I'll never do it again. Promise. I mean it.
~Jeff
My Dad has a number of odd little sayings which have stayed with me. The one I am most attached to, however, has very little to do with being upset. I've always thought it kind of a fine motto to live by though! If that counts!
It comes from road trips with my Dad and my Uncle Don. As we'd be coming down the canyon outside Price, Uncle Don would ask if Dad thought we should stop and get gas in Price before heading out across the desert. Dad would always reply "Driver goes for gas." An intense "discussion" usually ensued while they tried to decide if we were stopping (we always were!). Later on though, Dad began using the saying for other things. If I went to him and was having difficulty making a decision, he would talk the thing through with me, but when I asked him what he thought I should do, he usually replied with driver goes for gas. Meaning, of course, that I am the driver in my life and the consequences of any decision will fall on my head, not his, so I should make the decision.
I live in the Twin Cities in MN now and I don't think a single one of these people have any concept about vast stretches of highway with nary a gas station for hours and hours in any direction. Then again, I have fallen from my Western ways and actually let the gas gauge fall below a quarter tank on a fairly regular basis now! LOL
As to It's a Living - I've never met anybody else who remembers that show. . .
Maggie
I've no phrase for shock other than "Holy Fudd," which many will recognize from its origins on a Firesign Theatre LP, and which I only started using when my kids were born. But I did learn a phrase for utter befuddlement as a young sprout which has stuck with me forever after, and which earns me the occasional odd look:
"I'm blank as an albino in a snowstorm."
I said this once in my college years at Jefferson Davis' alma mater, and got the memorable reply, "And you're dumber than a box of rocks, too." Not exactly rare, but I treasured it anyway.
--Alex
Susan here:
I,ve lost a few HERC members, and I hope someone might be able to find them:
Names and last known addresses:
Larry Young, 24th Street, San Francisco, CA
Connie L. Riley, Scotts Valley, Hercules, CA
Martin D. Miller, Cherry Hills Dr., W., Sun City, AZ
Sherlene Miller, Tyler Drive, Woodridge, IL
Jim Higgins, Washington Avenue, Brooklyn, NY
Rory Hardesty, 73rd Street, Scottsdale, AZ
William S. Drummonds, 15th Way, Phoenix, AZ
If anyone can help...much appreciated. My lost members MUST INCLUDE THEIR MEMBERSHIP NUMBER TO GET THEIR BACK ISSUES.
I have about 20 extra, recent issues of the Rabbit Hole. If any of you who are not members of HERC (nobody escapes the clutches of Temporary Spastic), would like a complimentary copy, please send me a 55 cent SASE and I will happily mail one out to you.
Thanks again--Susan
Stephen King's latest, "Dreamcatcher," has something quite like what Mr. Ellison mentioned--the phrase is, "No bounce, no play."
It's explained, sort of, in the book. I still don't quite get it.
The novel is not one of his greatest, though. The ending was a real "aww, come *on!*" moment.
--pant--
--pant--
--pant--
Okay. I'm back from eagle count with--I swear--last thoughts on the fan/light issue:
First, the motor in the fan. Maybe it's not grounded properly?
Second, how about the laptop Susan and Harlan use? I know my powerbook, because of the RF it operates on, will wipe out Scott Simon on NPR with a louder, more annoying whine than he could produce in his biggest wet dream while it does its self-check.
All right. Enough said.
To the clock: Wonderful word for those who work on the wind-up clocks. I love the word and the clocks. Although I do wish the spring in the John Bull alarm clock wouldn't produce that unnerving !SPROING! just as it breaks. Geez-us. Jump out of my skin and a week past Tuesday when it does that.
What else? Oh. Right. The lack of utterances here. Well, no offense, but of late I've been slightly busy and haven't really had time to pop in and lay down a comment or response to something. That's all. Perhaps when the days shorten and the death of winter returns I might blather at greater length.
Further, I have writing to get done, an e-book to push, another book to ready for the pipeline, and the usual deadlines.
But, that's just me.
Until next time. . .
Harlan here:
Okay, I've left the bunch of you twisting in the ectothermic breeze of ignorance long enough. The source for the phrase
"HOLY
"GADZOLEY
"BETTY
"SPAGHETTI"
a phrase I use with alarming regularity, was the creation of the tv scenarist who wrote a (to me, memorable) episode of the now-long-canceled sitcom "It's A Living" (known initially as "Making A Living"), which was about a group of waitresses at a large hotel penthouse restaurant in Los Angeles (the Bonaventure was used for the establishing shots). I adored that series. Everyone in it went on to star in his/her own series; but it was the writing that was simply brilliant. And in one episode--sorry I can't tell you the scriptwriter's name, I never thought of taping the show at the time, never realized how much I'd miss it when it was gone--one of the women enters into an affair with a newspaper strip cartoonist, who uses her shamelessly as a character named "Betty Spaghetti." And the catch-phrase "holee gadzolee Bettee Spaghettee" becomes pandemic, till the young woman discovers the guy is only infatuated with her so he can lampoon her, then she dumps him.
Thus: holy gadzoley betty spaghetti, which leaps out of my mouth when I'm dumbfounded, startled, upset, dismayed, consternated, bewildered, confused, fahrshimmelt, or just farblondjet. Odd how something so arcane will stick with you. My mother had a few of those; I've even written about one or two of them, such as "Woof woof, a goldfish" or "She has the guts of curenza."
How about the rest of you? Do you have a "phrase for it" that means everything emblematic to you, which means nothing to others, that you dragged along out of the maelstrom of childhood, as spoken by someone major in your existence? This would be an interesting philological random study, I should think. Particularly with Peg and Mr. Riera's backgrounds.
I look forward. Till then, yr. pal, Harlan.
Hi Everybody!
Sorry I can't help out HE in the electrical/technical area, in my life I usually am the cause of these problems so I won't volunteer any radio/fan advice.
So glad you brought up Titus in your list of weird shows to check out. We had been watching That 70's Show for awhile and sat for the first episode of Titus. It rocked. I especially loved Stacy Keach. He's just perfect, I could just watch him and Titus argue for 22 minutes, the rest of the characters don't hold my interest as well.
I also love the way he mixes his comedy with tragedy, in the way All In the Family used to.
I'm still in shock to see Harlan posting here on this board but please continue. I used to not read it for weeks at a time and now I have to check back every other day to see if there's a new post!
Talk to you later!
Harlan - fear not, your presence is not particularly unsettling - at least for me, I can't speak for everyone - sometimes, this board has bouts of quiet. We beat a subject dead - sit around and stare at the same messages for a week or so, then boom - something else gets us going or sets us off.
I know I get particularly quiet when the subject is beyond my areas of comfortable knowledge (re: Jazz, 'lectricity, or why you need instructions on a bottle of shampoo) When I have something to say, I usually just storm onto the board with some rant or another, kick over everyone's blocks and then wait for my next hot button to be pushed. It's a simple life, but hey, not everyone gets to be a rock star...
But, to harken back to a previous, unconquered challenge you laid out - does your "Betty Spaghetti" reference relate to either the film "A League of Their Own" or the original league itself? I ask only because while channel surfing the other day, I caught some of the film - and one character's nickname was the aforementioned Betty...
Jim - one of my great pleasures as a horologist is that I can truly say "Hey, Buddy! You want your clock cleaned? You come see me... I'll clean your clock for you." That and writing "Horologist" as my occupation on various forms - it never fails to garner at least a second take.
Anyway - sorry I can't be of any use regarding the fan thing, but my thought for the person who finally comes out to check it over personally - if you run an extension cord to the radio while it's still in the room and the interference is gone - it's the circuit, and more likely the rocker switch. If the interference persists - the chances are higher it's in the fan. In which case you take the fan out and beat it into a ploughshare with a baseball bat. You then conscript young Latvians to fan you 24/7 and ignore the offending tech altogether.
Nope, Harlan, sorry, it's you being paranoid…
(and Alejandro immediately runs for cover)
In my case, I haven't had much to contribute to these chats in the last few weeks. I am of the mindset that if I have something instructive or worthwhile to express then I'll do so. I hate white noise. So as long as I have nothing interesting to say, not a peep. Beisdes, I have been busy writing a couple of big stories for my weekly. Although that hasn't stopped me from lurking.
Ah, but when I do speak and write, there is nothing to shut me up. Just remember: I was born in Puerto Rico, my parents are Cuban, my grandparents Spaniards (Gallegos to be precise). A deadly combination, indeed. And when we open our yappers…there is no stopping us. Especially us Rieras. We are a bloody opinionated bunch. To give you a good example…take my mom. The ultimate post-modernist. She will tell you a story, three times, from different points of view, just to make sure you GOT IT. And yet, my little sister (all full five feet of her) is the quiet type until you piss her off…then she'll let you have it in oh-so-many ways. (Speaking of her, and allow me the tangent, I have turned her into a big Barry Ween fan. For those of you out of the comics loop, Barry Ween is the brilliant creation of Judd Winick. Barry is a smart-ass, foul-mouthed 10-year old scientific genius. His partner in crime is a 10-year old sexually obssessed Puerto Rican kid. Paul Riddell and I have thought of enacting Barry Ween's adventures many a-times. Distance has impeded this action, though. Anyways, back to my sister. Manga reader. Closet-comics fan. She now is a Barry Ween convert. Read the first book three times, 'cause she couldn't believe what she read. Loved it. Got her volume two. Feel pity on her. She is finishing her veterinary medicine degree in Oklahoma, a ulturally deprived state. I am her saviour.) And quite foulmouthed too she is. She may be small in stature but she has a gigantic temper.
So, yes, as you can see we are the talkative type. No shutting us up.
And now off to cook some brunch for the lovely wife. Ham and cheese omelet. Guava juice on the side. (Raise your hands those of you who remember Harlan's serving that fine Guava paste and cream cheese delicacy over at Mad Media a couple of years ago in Wisconsin. When he pulled that can out and spoke about the wonders of guava paste, I couldn't help but smile. There used to be a guava tree in the backyard of one of the many houses my parents moved into oh so many years ago and my brother and I would anxiously wait for the fruit to ripen so that we could knock them off the tree and eat them. Delicious childhood memories.)
HE, Sunday morning:
Thanks, Al. I keep saying, however, that when I run the radio in another room, it's just fine. Just FINE. But youse guys keep making suggstions that place the blame in the radio, not in the fan/light/rheostat control unit. Trust me, the radio is fine, just fine. So, yes, I'll contact the California Historical Radio Society (though my vintage radio repairman, Howard Bardasch is exemplary, and painstaking) just as an additional safeguard. But--for the millionth time, folks--I NEED AN INNOVATIVE ELECTRICAL WIRING OR ELECTRONICS PERSON who knows his/her way around Radio Shack, et al.
My regular electrician, who installed the fan, is coming over tomorrow. He's a good guy, and a fine electrician; I just think this job is outside his expertise. So, if y'all can move your asses--Barney, I'm looking at YOU--I could really truly and timely need a breakthrough ASAP.
Am I getting more paranoid than usual, or has the amount of chat among all of you dissipated since I started showing up here? If that's the case, if my audible presence unsettles anyone in even the slightest measure, PLEASE let me know, and I'll get out of your hair pretty much. (I ain't seeking assurances of "oh no, Harlan sweetie, we luuuuuuv you being here"; what I'm after is honest feedback; remember, I'm a determined alien in these environs.)
Yr. pal, Harlan.
Harlan,
These are the folks to contact. They can probably recommend a technician in your area who specializes in vintage radios and the sort of problems you're having. Your radio is probably OK but a visit from an expert will eliminate the guesswork.
The California Historical Radio Society
CHRS
P.O. Box 31659
San Francisco, CA 9413
CHRS Hotline: 415 821-9800
aw
Harlan,
Halogen lights are notorious for feeding nasties back into the powerline and messing up audio. If you have a long enough extension, just verify that the radio works fine in it's usual location while plugged into a different circuit. If it's OK then your regular electrician can just connect your radio outlet to a different circuit.
aw
HE, Sat. morn:
Al: As I said, the radio works fine, no static, none, zip, nada, at other outlets away from that dimmer. When I tested the radio, it was without extension cord. Just carried it into another room (rooms) and plugged it straight in. Perfecto. No static. So, yes, clearly, as I knew all along, it's the remote dimmer in the wall and its counterpart up in the ceiling. But please note: the "dimmer" isn't a furled knob that turns, as with most dimmers. This one has two small rocker switches, one for the light, the other for the speed of the fan's rotation. And below them is a slightly larger rocker switch that turns the whole shebang on and off. When you turn the whole shebang on, then you have to tap the lower of the two smaller rocker switches to escalate the level of light--one,two,three, four to brightest--and then, if you tap again, light goes out, and the cycle begins again at lowest lumin level. So the suggestion of feeding it less power is inoperative for this mechanism.
The fan is the "UFO" model from The Modern Fan Company of Ashland, Oregon. 100 watt halogen/white glass, die-cast aluminum body with titanium blades: MF805; and the unit for the control is MF004, 2-wire fan/light wall control.
I hope some of this helps, Al.
Jim: I have a hunch you've reasoned it out as I did, but my electrician--with whom I've worked for fifteen years, and this is the first time I've ever had a contretemps--INSISTS he did the installation correctly. It isn't as easy as some of you folks suggest, bracing him yet again, to reiterate my belief that the glitch is of his making. I NEED A LIVE HUMAN BEING TO COME IN AND RASSLE THIS ONE TO THE GROUND. All the suggestions are likely dead-on, but I ain't equipped to correct the gaffe. So, though we've all agreed on the likely culprit here, I still need a living breathing, somewhere-in-LA man or woman to come in and help me onsite.
Yrs. in preparation for a visit to Happy House, the spa with the heavily padded playpens, I remain, yr. weary pal, Harlan.
No need to brown-nose me. Really. I just reread my post and %$#@!--if only
I could spell properly. (Yes. I AM a product of public education. Does it show?)
Geez. Too early for this half-assed effort o-mine. Apologies to all offended
parties for the various mistakes in my previous post.
I came back with one final thought on the entire matter: The dimmer switch:
I would like you to try something, Mr. Ellison: Since it is a dimmer switch,
do this: Turn the radio on to your desired station. Then slooooooowly turn the
light (or fan?) on. Does the interference on the radio happen immediately following
this action or is it abrupt?
I ask because it occurs to me a lot of electricians will use less-than acceptable
wire in wiring jobs to boost their financial cut on jobs. Not that I am suggesting
your electrian did this. I'm not. But some times building inspectors and whatnot
will allow variance in the gauge of wire used. So instead of going to the higher
end gauge they go cheap. Which, in the long term, is bad news, because the wire
used cannot carry the full load for all the current pushing through it and--
ZZZzzzzZZZZZ.
Instead of sending the full current through the line it is actually causing
a feedback or looping of sorts back up the line.
Anyway, I'm off to learn to spell properly.
Until next time. . .
al whyley <whyfam@oxford.net>
- Saturday, April 14 2001 10:8:42
Jim,
If there were more people like you out there in consumer land I'd be spending
a lot less time on the phone troubleshooting simple problems. There's nothing
more frustrating than trying to convince someone that their problem is a quartz
halogen lamp on the same circuit and not the new power amp that they just bought.
Harlan,
Mr. Hess knows what he's talking about. Chances are the solution is in his post.
aw
My two cents on the tranmissions from Mars (apparently): Oh, good. I'm
not the only one this happened to.
Awhile back, while listening to the news myself on my portable radio I keep
in the kitchen knookish area I noticed every time She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed went
in the guest bathroom there was this gadawful zzzzzzzzzzzz across the radio.
Of course I assumed it was the radio wearing out. (I've only had it 26 years.)
So I hauled myself to the local electronics shop, bought a new cord, then a
new plug, then a new antenna for the effort.
ZZZZZZZZZZZ.
Fer chrissakes, it got worse. So I tried changing out the switch in the bathroom.
(It's a dimmer, wouldn't you know.)
Ta-day.
For about three days, then:
ZZZZzzzzzZZZZZzzzzzZZZ.
What the?
So I got up in the light fixture, took the cover plating off, took the bulbs
out and--
Guess what I found?
The so-called Master Electrician who had wired the bathroom originally (who,
oddly enough, wasn't in jail yet), had a) not capped the ends of two live wires
(why they were even in there--dunno), and b) and left something like two feet
of wire length wrapped, coiled, and stuffed in the fixture. Of course, since
this wire had current humming and zipping through it, well, not good. Further,
the union dumb-ass election had laid the uncapped, exposed end of the wire against
the METAL inside base of the light fixture and grounded it, effectivly, to the
base. Which meant: Current into the light fixture by way of the proper wires
and current through the exposed end of the excess wire, which fed into the base,
back down the wire to the electrical line.
Now. There is one breaker for the outlet to the radio and the light fixture.
So. The current feedback from the light was going into the radio via the outlet.
Of course this only happened when the dimmer switch in the bathroom was on because
the current--
Add to this this fact: The news station I was listening to was AM, and it seems
the RF for the light(?) is about the same, so
ZZZZzzzzzzZZZZZ
Anyway, to suggestions on how to fix this. I contacted the master idiot and
asked him why it was he had shoved something like years worth of wiring with
exposed ends into the wall and his reply--'Cos the building inspector said I
could.
Oh, good.
So I explained to him what I had found and how it was that such things as this
could lead to arcing inside the wall and how it was insulation inside said wall
makes for such nice kindling and how it is nail heads holding studs inside the
wall up could act as flash points for the arcing and how it was I am not thrilled
by the possibility of the bathroom wall bursting into flames because I had the
light on.
So he came out--no charge, mind you--and removed the two feet or whatever of
excess wiring, capped the exposed ends of said wires,
and--
Fine. For about three days.
So I called him back, told him what had happened.
His reply: Is that light switch and the outlet on the same breaker?
Yes, I replied.
Why?
Oh.
He came out, waved his magic wand and fixed it: He moved the bathroom light
from that breaker to another. No more
ZzzzzzzZZZZZZz.
Just now and again
zzzIT
What I have found in this is that certain AM frequencies on the dial--850 and
down--are prone to interference like this. But if the house is wired accordingly,
the problem should not occur.
Further, I think I read that this troublesome radio is an older model. Would
it have tubes in the back? Some times when those wear and age the interference
increases.
As to who can fix them: It seems like in L.A. there should be someone. Start
with someone who repairs older clocks--wind up clocks. The old one with the
chimes. And NO batteries or quartz or whatever electronic crap is in them now.
John Bull rattle-your-brain clocks. With the key that goes into the face of
the clock, at, oh, four and eight. Stuff like that. Explain that you have an
older radio and need it checked out innard-wise.
They probably won't be able to fix it, but odds are they know someone who can
check it out and do whatever may be needed. (The props department at a studio,
maybe?)
So let's review:
1. Have your electrian check for exposed wire ends in the fan situation. Cap
'em.
2. If there is excess wire in the fan works, remove it.
3. Find out if the radio and fan are on the same breaker. (I think you said
they were.) If so, consider rerouting one.
4. Have the radio checked out.
5. Get the filters for the wiring suggested. Home Depot? Lowe's?
6. If all else fails, move the radio to another room and TURN IT UP.
7. Listen to another radio station? (If it's Clear Channel, well, don't get
me started. Let's just say you could do better.)
My two cents.
Until next time. . .
Jim Hess
...........delurking to offer assistance.
Harlan,
I don't qualify as a "electronics whiz" but I do work in the audio biz. If you
can clarify a couple of points I will refer your problem to someone who is more
than qualified to deal with it. He's definitely a "figure outside the box" kinda
guy.
.....does the radio have the problem when the light/fan is not operating?
.....when you tested other outlets did you use an extension cord or move the
radio to the outlet? If you used an extension and that solved the problem then
the noise is definitely power line related. If you moved the radio then it could
be RF being picked up by the antenna or power line noise. Once I know for certain
whether it's RF or line noise I may be able to offer assistance.
aw
Hello all,
A very common cause of interference in AM radios are light dimmers. There infamous
for it. You can now buy dimmers with a circuit to cut out interference, but
I cant help you with where to buy them.
Hope this is of some interest.
Kerry
(definitely NOT meaning well, just engaging in conversation)
*Maggie* - Harlan's note says he tried it in other outlets, works fine.
Sounds like he needs the electrician back for a good lashing. Demonstrating
the problem in front of them usually helps too. (like making a car go ker-chlunk
in front of the mechanic "see, it really is broken").
I'm not an electrical engineering by trade or background, in fact, I slept through
most of my 1 eletrical engineer course in college. So this comment comes with
full disclaimer of probably memory lapse or misremembering the detail. However...don't
motors sometimes cause interference? Even small little electric ones? I thought
it had to do with the field generated (one of those electromagnetic thingies...)
Maybe the older vacuum tube style radios are more sensitive.
Or I could just have my head in the wrong place....
Peg
Mr. Ellison -
I can tell you two things -
1) - you're about 7 years too late. My Grandpa has a collection of old radios
that would make you dehydrate from the mouth. Every single one of them he acquired
when the local radio repair shop gave them up for dead and they each and every
one of them work a dream.
2) - I was a master electrician in my mis-spent youth. Theatrical master electrician.
Before you spend beaucoup amounts o' cash, try moving the radio into another
room and see what happens. If the radio resumes working in its pristine fashion,
then you can get that electrician back and have your verbal way with his poor
self. If it does not, then you are in need of somebody who dabbles in old radios.
As these are two entirely different things - and as your average electrician
these days isn't going to know squat about vacuum tubes, knowing which set of
skills you really need seems to be a priority.
That said, here is a link I pulled up off of Google that lists the web sites
for a couple of people that specialize in old radios.
http://www.antiqueradios.com/resources/Repair_and_Restoration/
Good luck!
Maggie
It's me again, HE, twice in one day
(Oh gawd, I know I'll regret this in the mawnin'):
Charlie: the PARACLETE arrived in good order. I called them and asked for two
more copies so I could give one to MC Valada. Thanks m'man.
Philip: you're welcome, pal. Glad I could be of some small succor.
As for this "no ass-kissing" injunction Rick put up . . . well, hell, gang,
no need to observe the rules THAT slavishly.
Now to the reason I'm here. I need someone to find someone for me, and I have
no way of knowing how to go about it. But if anyone can surf these psychotsunamis,
it's Barney and Finder and Tim and one or another of you. Here's my problem:
I need a MASTER ELECTRICIAN or ELECTRONICS WHIZ kind of man or woman. Back hall
here at the house; where I spend a couple of hours every morning putting Brodart
covers on books, bagging comics, etc.; there's a vintage cathedral-style l930s
radio in there I use to listen to the news. Five, six ayem. Works like it was
new. No static. Never. Not in all the years. Recently had a modern hi-tech light/rotating
fan put in the ceiling. Remote in the wall switch to dim and raise the light
level, to start and stop the fan. Rheostat in there somewhere--either up in
the fan, or down on the wall. Now, when I put on the light, and turn on the
radio (also wired into the wall, but on another switch on another wall), I get
static so severe I can't hear the news.
I've had the electrician who installed swear IT AIN'T MY FAULT and I've had
a master electrician come in and tell me it's in the radio, so we had a filter
attached between the plug and the connection, but it hasn't helped a bit. He
was wrong; the radio's fine. We've tested at other outlets. Copacetic. I'm going
nuts.
What I need is NOT a lot of suppositions from people who mean well. What I NEED
is a person. A SMART person. The head of the electrical engineering school at
UCLA. Richard Feynman. Albert Einstein. I need somebody who can figure outside
the box . . . a solution to my problem!!!!!!!
Will somebody out there, pleez gawd, some one of you, if you love me at all,
will you scan and surf and slip'n'slide and get me somebody who'll deliver me
from darkness?
This, the appeal of an old man who needs to hear the news as he works in the
wee ayem.
Please. Again, with a whimper, puhleeeeeze!
Yr. incompetent pal, Harlan.
About a year and a half ago my apartment burned down and I lost a lot of
good stuff: Hundreds of books, vinyl records and a collection of some of the
best letters I’d ever written. Destroyed or damaged so badly in the fire that
I would have been better off never having walked through it three days later
trying to salvage what I could.
It wasn’t so much losing these things that affected me; it was losing the history
that was attached to those things. I could tell a story for every used book
I had on those shelves. A huge part of MY story was lost.
I’m not trying to piss and moan and say boohoo for me. But sometimes even the
strongest will and determination can’t stop things from changing---and that’s
what I hate. This past year and a half has been a killer.
Then a couple nights ago I happened to open to a random page from my recently-restored
HORNBOOK and read something that made me feel, "Holy shit, I’m NOT crazy." Because,
brother, I have been walking so close to the edge recently that I seriously
had my doubts, by the hour sometimes, about what side of the sanity line I was
standing on. I won’t tell you what I read because it was so perfectly what I
needed to hear that, in a way, it belongs to me now, and spelling it out would
just diminish it. But the point is that it pulled me back, and I didn’t even
see it coming.
I'm doing much better now. Thank you, Mr. Ellison.
(I hope this doesn't qualify as, "Feeding of the HE or blatant kissing of his
ass are strictly prohibited," as warned by Rick.)
I haven’t seen Eddie Izzard live , as I’m not really up on the live comedy
circuit these days, but I did catch the HBO comedy special—“Dressed to Kill,”
I think, it was. A friend had taped it, and lent it to me last weekend to get
me through the flu. WOW! I’m wildly jealous of you guys! I’m now an obsessed
new fan, hunting around for videos, etc., to catch up with this guy’s filmography.
He looks to be the best thing British comedy’s produced since the Pythons. He’s
certainly infinitely superior to anything the American comedy scene’s produced
in the last 15 years—maybe even the last 20!
Harlan-
Forgot to mention that we have a marvelous photograph (taken by my better half/significant
other/spouse person) of me inadvertently scaring the shit out of Eddie in front
of the Royal George Theatre in Chicago.
Which made such a wonderful bookend to having dinner with my beloved at a great
Mexican restaurant and seeing "Circle" after (literally) bumping into Austin
Pendleton and a buncha Steppenwolf groupies earier that day.
(Sometimes you hafta reflect on those great bunches of moments to prevent the
mundane stream of everyday crap and rudeness from becoming overwhelming)
Have a good weekend, kids
Harlan-
Thanks for confirming what my wife and I guessed. When we saw Robin's name on
the credits of "Dressed to Kill," we tried to imagine what an evening with Eddie,
Robin and the Ellisons would have been like...you're description does not disappoint.
But the question still remains - which character that was cobbled from your
imagination, your gray matter and a fresh six-pack of eye-dee-ers from the Schenectady
(or Conshohocken, or wherever the hell the Imagination Service is these days)
could you see him portraying? Levendis, maybe?
Also- kinda sidebar to the AOL/RemarQ sitchuaytion. There was a time when I
wrote to Kilimanjaro for perimission to quote from one of your stories. You
replied personally, and included a statement that it was "naive" to ask for
permission for so few words.
It wasn't merely lack of experience...it was respect.
Have a good weekend.
Harlan/Susan: Did the magazine arrive w/your article? I sent to the HERC
PO Box.
Harlan, Friday AM:
Did we SEE Eddie Izzard when he was here last year . . .?
Eat cher hearts out. Robin and Marsha Williams sponsored an evening performance
by Eddie at a classy little theater on the Sunset Strip, and all of Robin's
pals were invited. So here's little Susan an' Harlan hobnobbin' with the Great
and the Near-Great . . . Susan sitting next to Dave Crosby, right behind Cuba
Gooding, Jr., three seats over from Maria Muldaur, and on and on and on, including
Kevin Pollack and Ed Begley, Jr. and Sandra
Bernhart and Cameron Diaz and Paul Krassner and sitting two seats over from
my old pal dave Crosby, was that little shit director who did the remake of
PSYCHO (yeah yeah, I know: he was there because he directed Robin in GOOD WILL
HUNTING) and I went for him, and Dave had to grab me by the scruff to yank me
back, and suggest I not embarrass Robin by ripping the balls off that miserable
auteur creep and strangling him with them.
So. Did we SEE Eddie (whom I chatted with, and sent a book to, at his request,
at the chi-chi party after the performance)? Do we only LOVE his comedy? My
wife is a lapsed Church of England (C of E) person. Can you imagine how she
laughed!!!
Izzard is reeeeeMARKable. I urge everyone to rent his videos.
My currently favorite three tv shows are SPECIAL UNIT 2 (5 more episodes to
come), TITUS, and the new show from our friend Angus Oblong called (of course)
THE OBLONGS. If you're missing them, you aren't getting your weekly portion
of ENORMOUS WEIRD.
Yr, pal, Harlan.
Whatta day...
"I like my women the way I like my coffee - in a plastic cup!"
"No pajamas in the Land of the Dead."
"Do you have a flag?"
A general question - did any of you have the opportunity to see
Eddie Izzard when he was touring the You-Ess of Ehh last year? 'N if so, is
there a character from one of Harlan's stories you could see him portraying
on the wide or small screen? And BTW I was using that 'lesbian trapped in a
man's body' long before I heard of him.
anyhoo...
Here is my submission wot I sent to both the Industry Standard and Chicago Suntimes:
I’m among those who is a little confused as to why the Sun-Times ran the article
written by Mark Frauenfelder “Sci-Fi writer wages war on online piracy” which
appeared in the Monday, April 9th edition (the article also appeared in the
Industry Standard Magazine under the title “Science Friction”).
The piece would initially appear to be straight reportage on the legal action
currently being pursued by writer Harlan Ellison against AOL and ReamrQ regarding
online availability of copyrighted materials. Instead, Mr. Frauenfelder’s efforts
have resulted in a very confusing, slanted critique, more of an unsubstantiated
editorial. Perhaps this explains why it appeared as a two-column filler in the
Television section, unlike items of a similar nature on Napster which appear
in National News or Business.
Mr. Frauenfelder states that Mr. Ellison “is largely waging this fight alone.
He lacks the support of big publishers, who just aren't that worried.” Mr. Frauenfelder
then mentions (offhandedly) that Mr. Ellison’s action is being supported by
the Science Fiction Writers of America and individuals such as Ben Bova and
Frank M. Robinson. Interesting that the Standard has a related article from
December 28th 2000, which quotes Steve Cohen, senior vice-president for St.
Martin's Press as saying, "We paid very close attention to the Napster situation.
We take it very seriously." Also notable that there are no quotes from Mr. Bova,
Mr. Robinson, or even Ms. Christine Valada (Mr. Ellison’s attorney and counsel
for SFWA), but Mr. Frauenfelder does take time to interview Mr. Charles Platt,
one of the founders of an organization which called itself “Enemies of Ellison,”
which hardly makes him an unbiased source.
So there is no mistake, for the record – I’m not Harlan Ellison’s friend. I’ve
met the man once several years ago and if we ran into each other, he would probably
have no idea who I am. I’ve read a substantial amount of his stories, essays,
reviews, etc., over the years. Please note that I said that I’ve read them;
I didn’t say I enjoyed them all, or agreed with his every opinion, just that
he has a right to express it and he expresses those opinions in a very intelligent,
articulate, and unique manner. One of Harlan’s most quoted expressions is, “Everyone
is entitled to an informed opinion.” You should look it up, Mark.
Because what is most disturbing about what Mr. Frauenfelder has written is the
portrayal of Mr. Ellison, someone who has made a strong case over his career
of the importance of free speech, as someone who would now destroy it. The depiction
of someone who has championed the cause of freedom, not by sitting behind a
desk and writing a check, but by “talking the talk and walking the walk,” even
when it took him to civil rights marches in the deep South. This person is identified
by Mr. Frauenfelder as someone who now celebrates censorship, someone who would
restrict free enterprise. And this representation can be easily made through
the use of out-of-context quotes, insults (some of which the Sun-Times removed)
and clichés (the Star Trek/Outer Limits episodes were 30 to 40 years ago, Mark,
please try to catch up).
In no way do I pretend to understanding the legal, professional and ethical
issues represented in Mr. Ellison’s lawsuit. But I do know what it’s like to
have something taken away, something which was the result of thought and creativity
and effort, and to receive nothing for it. I find it difficult to argue against
someone who refuses to quietly accept that.
HUGe thanks, Michael! I knew someone would have the answer.
The Heinlein book is the infamous "Number of the Beast" which features
one of my favourite horrible lines of all time: "Our teeth grated and my nipples
went spung". Good enough for the Bulwer-Lytton competition.
Help!
A box of my SF collection has escaped; long story, but the upshot of it is that
all my Robert Heinlein is GWTW, so to speak, or at least AWOL. So I can’t send
the book as promised.
Which book is this: Two couples are bouncing through the multiverse in some
sort of a souped up car/spaceship, encountering characters from all kinds of
fictional works and discovering that all the great works of fiction are in fact
alternate realities? One episode that stands out in particular to me is a visit
to Baum’s Oz.
Finder? Anyone?
wow, wish i lived in SoCal so I could go to white castles with harlan and
the gang. sounds like a wild time. anyone read Moorcock's new Elric book yet?
Best one of the series so far. That guy keeps getting better and better as the
years go by, much the same as HE does. Does anyone besides me think that Harlan
is the best Lovecraftian writer since well Lovecraft? I just finished reading
Slippage and there seemed to be quite a bit of Lovecraft lurking about in those
pages. The Dreams a Nightmare Dreams and Darkness Upon the Face of the Deep
come to mind, and for some obscure reason that I can't quite grasp, Midnight
in the Sunken Cathedral. And of course museum on cyclops ave. hell, anything
with the word cyclops reminds me of cyclopean which makes me think of lovecraft.
seriously, harlan is a way better writer than lovecraft ever was, but the sheer
horrificness (not a word, i don't think) of that man's visions live on in most
horror and quite a bit of phantasy to this day. many people would probably point
to other authors first , but for my money, lovecraft's real torchbearer in the
2nd half of the 20th century and 1st half of the 21st is HE. one more thing,
just got my hands on some of karl edward wagner's stuff. you might think its
derivative swords and sorcery, but Kane is a great character, and much darkness
lurks in those pages. my two cents on guns- i support the 1st amendment which
allows harlan to work his subversive magic on society,a nd i support the 2nd
amendment without which the 1st would not be guaranteed. it doesn't take a writer
of speculative fiction to extrapolate that once a society bans all ownership
of weapons, a totalitarian state is not far behind. Hitler banned private ownership
of firearms, so did Stalin. So did every other 20th century despot. They preferred
the thugs in their employ to have all of the guns. This endless battle between
left and right has gotten out of hand. For every religious right kook demonized
on the right there is a utopian socialist Stalinist Nader on the left who is
equally as dangerous to humanity. republicans vs democrats is just another way
to divide us up when most of us agree on the basic issues. just like black vs
white, left vs right, us vs. them, you vs. me. and i will remain firmly pro
gun, anticensorship, pro legalized marijauna (although never smoke the stuff),
and anti abortion (but won't bomb any clinics or shoot any abortionists), and
anti death penalty. Try to categorize all that into one ideology, i dare you.
i haven't found a party that fits the bill yet. i like freedom but i hate the
idea of state sponsered murder, be it abortion, execution, or euthanasia. give
murders life with hard labor, let the non violent druggies out to make room
for them. quit dismembering innocent children in the womb. don' t give doctors
the power of death. let god or jehovah or evolution work its will.
Waiting for a train I picked up a copy of Hemingway’s “First 49 Stories”
to find a series of uncredited series of vignettes interleaved between the stories
like Ellison’s account of his first marriage in “Slippage”.
1 – Does anyone know of any other books/collections that do this?
2- Has Ellison ever written about Hemingway: the perils and examples that he
poses for other writers; what Hemingway means to him and much, i.e. “The Kilimanjaro
Corp” ?
I must confess I’m finding bits of Hemingway quite fibrous and hard to swallow,
in terms of style and observation, though I think I can see the sort of thing
Ellison may have been trying to emulate in the early years.
Hey Peg! Well, I can hope that you'll be there in Scotland for a long time,
and you certainly *must* stop in if you're ever in the neighborhood! Unfortunately,
my ward has end stage renal failure and I don't think that they're going to
be willing to do the only thing that would save her life - a kidney transplant.
And even if they are, I'm not entirely certain that it would be a good thing
for her. She has mental retardation and very limited communication abilities,
so she can't communicate a problem to us, which has a lot of impact when it
comes to a transplant. I'm still trying to get in to meet with the nephrologist
though and we're definitely going to be talking to him about a transplant.
Hope that you're doing well!
Maggie
Todd-
Actually, the Sun-Times is owned by Hollinger, out of Canada (Toronto, as I
remember - my wife use to design the Sun-Times' Special Sections). As for the
headline, there is a separate person at most magazines and newspapers to write
headlines and column heads. Ghastly job. Must make you so bored you have to
come up with bad puns to stay awake.
Everyone-
I have written a letter to the "Industry Standard" about the article we have
all been discussing ("Science Friction"). If you would all be so kind as to
glance at it, any suggestions would be most appreciated. Of course, any corrections
of my excerable grammer would be also appreciated.
To: The Industry Standard, Jonathan Weber, Editor-In-Chief
Dear Mr. Weber,
Recently, you published a piece of attempted journalism by Mark Fraunfelder
entitled "Science Friction," (available online at http://www.thestandard.com/article/0,1902,23194,00.html)
on the efforts of Harlan Ellison and other science fiction authors to assert
their rights under internationally recognized copyright laws in the arena of
illegal copying of these authors' works to the Internet. I would like to take
several issues with the story:
1) "Many in the publishing community say Ellison's frothy-mouthed assault is
a one-man example of how not to fight the online copyright battle. In his relentless
campaign, Ellison risks losing free publicity, alienating fans and shutting
down Usenet, the distributed-discussion system whose newsgroups are among the
last, vast, unregulated portions of the Net. "
Without a direct quote, one must assume that this is Mr. Fraunfelder's interpretation
and/or opinion. While a proper assertion of copyright law might greatly reduce
traffic to such forums as alt.binaries.e-book, it would certainly not result
in "shutting down Usenet," that vast majority of which is not engaged in posting
copyrighted works without their owner's permission.
2) "The hair-raising part of Ellison's lawsuit,
according to some, is its potential to squelch free speech on the Net. Two days
after AOL was served with Ellison's lawsuit, it blocked access to alt.binaries.e-book.
RemarQ blocked posts containing Ellison's work. The moves have sparked concern
among Ellison's fellow science fiction authors about what he's wrought. Charles
Platt, a science fiction writer and journalist, believes that 'if service providers
are made to fear litigation, censorship will be the inevitable result.'"
Now, I think that we can all agree that the rhetoric of the above paragraph
needs to be taken down a notch. Blocking the illegal posting of a copyrighted
work is certainly not a move to "squelch free speech on the Net," anymore than
a security guard stopping someone from stealing a book from Barnes & Noble is
a move to squelch free speech in the United States. This is a matter of copyright
law and intellectual ownership versus theft, not a matter of 1st amendment squelching.
As for Charles Platt, I hardly think you could have found a more notorious person
in terms of his avowed dislike of Mr. Ellison (well, perhaps Christopher Priest).
For instance, please note that Mr. Platt is the founder of "Victims of Ellison"
(previously referred to as the "Enemies of Ellison"). A cursory look at his
writings on Mr. Ellison show an animus that hardly makes him an objective or
even reasonably alternative view for this story.
3) Basically, the rest of the story.
So some knuckleheads are giving their works away on the Net. Does this abrogate
the rights of Mr. Ellison and other authors to demand that illegal postings
of their works be ceased and that the various online services (AOL, Remarq,
etc) be properly vigilant in carrying out the laws of the United States and
other countries? I hardly think so.
In conclusion, I would respectfully request a retraction of this article and
that a new article be written with a more balanced view of the issue - one not
so biased towards the e.community, and respectful of the long-standing principles
of artistic ownership and copyright that make it possible for an artist to earn
their hard-earned living.
Regards,
Joseph J. Finn
Chicago, IL
Finder - The concept you're pointing out can be summed up in a single quote,
which I'll happily mangle here: "Success has a thousand fathers, failure is
an orphan."
Nobody wants to do anything because it's such a damn big windmill to tilt against.
Harlan's wading into a job of herculean proportion - one which he may not win,
simply because he can't bring the proper level of resources to bear on it. Let's
not forget that one of the named defendants in the suit just bought out Time/Warner.
That kind of firepower would scare just about any sane individual. Our saving
grace is the fact that Harlan has never been proven to be completely sane...
:)
I support Harlan - I think it's vital for independent craftsmen and women to
fight for protection of intellectual property rights. If Harlan goes down, with
his track record, what chance do any of the rest of us have? The big companies
spend gadzillions of dollars protecting their turf - (trademarks, trade dress,
content) - how is this any different? Harlan's writings are his trademark, his
trade dress and content all wrapped into one. Even given his other, no less
remarkable skills, what else does he have to sell? It's remarkable that one
has to prove that any copy of a work given away for free is lost revenue. If
the creator wishes to give it away, that's his or her choice - it's their revenue
to squander. A third party should never have the unilateral right to give away
your intellectual property - the concept simply doesn't exist in any other aspect
of property rights as we know it.
I think the problem arises from the mistaken notion that a making a copy of
work, especially if the "original" remains in your possession, is fundamentally
harmless. That notion has been thoroughly and resoundingly defeated in every
other property venue but intellectual. If I make copies of a physical item and
give them away, I'm gonna get sued - successfully, I might add, by the creator
of the original item. The winning argument points out that the potential market
for the original product is diminished by every copy given away - a tangible
loss. The result is identical when the "item" is an intellectual work.
The key argument that the idiots use against this is "the Napster effect" -
they point out that Napster can't possibly have hurt the music industry, in
fact, must have helped it - because look how much more music they're selling,
now. Quod erat demonstrum.
My response is this - how much MORE would they have sold if Napster hadn't allowed
the undercutting of the market? No one will ever convince me that if a perfect,
digital copy of the music is available for free, an average teen is gonna shell
out $12 to $16 dollars for the legitimate album - I just won't buy it. (Bad
pun intended)
Copying is theft - even if you never get caught, at least have the decency to
be remorseful...
Xan
A few words on Frauenfelder's piece.
Mark Frauenfelder was the editor and publisher of BOING BOING, which was a bit
more interesting than WIRED soon became, but was definitely in the technophilia
camp. Good people, such as Gareth Branwyn, worked with him. I'm not sure what
to make of the article in question aside from agreeing with Finder Doug that
it's indeed very bad journalism, and with Harlan Ellison that to quote Charles
Platt about Ellison in any way is a bit like getting Bull Connor to eulogize
MLK, Jr.
Not taking into account also that Ellison is not an obscure nor quite a midlist
author, but one with at least a large coterie following, and, even more ridiculously,
that the other authors mentioned seem to have agreed to have their work disseminated
via various free (and usually more legit) electronic means...are remarkable
lacks in a piece of pro journalism, even in an industry letter. Although Cory
Doctorow is fine with his fiction being pirated, apparently, I don't think he
gets to decide for me or anyone else.
So I wonder how much Frauenfelder was edited, and how. I suspect he didn't choose
the INDUSTRY STANDARD headline...Ellison a skiffy writer is a remarkably "innocent"
insult to add to the injury. And you know that SUN-TIMES probably doesn't know
what sf is, particularly after they lost Algis Budrys from the book-review staff.
Is the SUN-TIMES a Scripps-Howard? Hm. Wonder if S-H was a party to the recent
suit in re: reprinting reporters' materials on the net w/o extra pay nor permission...
And the end of the Frauenfelder article has a link to Mark F's email...play
nice, now. Cussing is kinda what the fine upstanding citizens want you to do,
to show what slavish fools with bad attitudes and spelling might rally to Ellison's
lonely cause (with SFFWA, and Bova, and Frqnk...)
The editor of The Standard can be emailed at: letters@thestandard.com.
If anyone is interested.
*Maggie* glad to hear you're still alive, I was beginning to wonder if
you'd been snowed undeer - figuratively or literally! I hope your ward feels
better.
As far as hanging out in Scotland, well, that's all up to BP and the fate of
the oil price. If OPEC gets their way it'll hang around $20-25 and I can probably
stick around. But I've learned not to count on those things....
Should I make it through St. Paul sometime I'll let you know. In the meantime,
I suppose we'll have to chat vicariously and virtually.
Peg
Tally up folks - I count 4 - that's 4! - posts in a row from Harlan without
one getting lost. Must be a record.
(you know we only teased loved ones this badly, right?)
Peg
Tuesday Harlan here...for a moment:
This Frauenfelder, who did the piece on KICK for the Industry Standard...I don't
really know what his game is, but I find it interesting that of ALL the POSSIBLE
spokespersons he might have tapped for comments, he manages to locate Charles
Platt, whose avowed animus to me is not even obtusely mentioned when introducing
his credentials. Not even the fact--that a responsible "evenhanded" journalist
would feel is utterly germane--that Mr. Platt created the infamous hate-group
Enemies of Ellison. You might think that would give Mr. Frauenfelder pause,
wouldn't you? Platt isn't one of the prominent thinkers in this arena, but somewhichway
Mr. Frauenfelder just tosses a dart and hits Charles smack in the open mouth.
But since I made it clear to the guy that he should talk to Christine Valada,
and not me--though yet again I offer my butt for kicking at running my mouth
AT ALL--his slant on this is, as both you guys have pointed out, sloped journalese
of the most obvious and egregious stripe. Ah, but, don't forget, this first
appeared in a paper called The INDUSTRY Standard. We're talking the e.monolith
industry. Do you actually think they'll gore the ox that they serve? Evenhandedness
is not their measure, nor their mission. Proselytizing is; and maintaining the
holiness of the venue is; and ridiculing even the lowliest "gun-locks are a
good thing" level of critic very much is. If you care, any of you, to point
out any of these comments to the honchos at The Industry Standard, I would not
be unhappy about it...though it taught me, yet again, yet once again for the
millionth time, the lesson of keeping my anything-but-NO-COMMENT mouth shut
fast.
Yr. pal, Harlan.
.
Sheryl - No, I didn't. Not really. In all honesty, I gave up on the media
several years ago. If anything, I feel bad for people like Walter Cronkite,
who have had to watch a field they built and nurtured with their sweat and their
blood and their honor decay into the kind of circuses that the Romans at least
served up with bread.
I think what frosts my cupcake the most is what will inevitably happen with
this particular battle: if the Ellisons lose, the naysaying authors and publishing
houses will point and cackle and make bleating "we were right" noises; but if
the Ellisons win, everyone who crapped on the concept of the suit will suddenly
start looking to see how they can use the precedent to their own legal and financial
benefit. They will conveniently forget all of their reasons for why it was a
bad idea, and will protest that they always believed in the cause, but never
had the chance to contribute the way they wanted to, or were held back by others,
or any of a dozen other lame excuses.
And it's revisionist history that tweaks me worst of all.
Hey Peg! I'm still out here. Just didn't have a whole lot to add to any
of the conversations here lately. *hangs head* I'm afraid that in case of a
fire, the first thing I would save is my 2000 year old fibula, followed by my
grandparent's wedding photo. If I had to choose a book or two to save, I'd go
insane and end up so many ashes from trying to carry them all out at once. .
. when I went away for my first year of college, I took my entire nascent book
collection. Nothing on what it is today. Back then it was barely a box and a
half. Dad kept saying - you do know that they have books here, right?? I just
kept telling him that yes, of course they had books, it was a college, but those
books weren't MY books. . . ;-)
Either you're a book baby or you're not!
BTW Peg, on my last trip through the local Border's, I found a map of Scotland
on the mark down table. Yep, it came right home with me. Turns out though that
my ward is much sicker than I had been led to believe. Because of that, I am
not going to be able to take any trips longer than weekend trips to visit my
family. I can't be out of touch or further away than a couple of hours. So,
I'll just look at my map and hope that you end up staying in Scotland a couple
of more years!
Maggie
Susan: I will look forward to hearing from Ms. Valada. You and your husband
are the ones to be thanked, though. The opportunity to serve the greater Good
doesn't often come as clearly marked as this one. The time I'm not working to
pay bills may be limited, but what there is of it is yours for the asking.
Finder, et. al: You didn't really expect any better, did you? When the National
Enquirer serves as a regular news source for the "legitimate" press and the
networks? The major papers have long since abandoned even the pretense of objective
reporting for corporate propaganda. Attacking Harlan and KICK is simply protecting
their own asses, because they don't want to open the door to having to pay free
lance writers additional monies to archive their articles. Given the amount
of money that's at stake for them, could you really expect them to tell anything
remotely approaching the truth?
So I have been properly paddled with a cheapie flyswatter from Wal-Mart.
--sigh--
Well, for what it's worth I still think it's a good idea, sending Mr. E to camp
along the Front Range of The Colorado Rockies. He can catch up with Dan Simmons
and Ed Bryant and the crew here.
As to paying, heck, I'd pay to drive L.A. to enjoy his talking and reading and
such.
But to Boulder, well, after their latest boobery I reaaaally think someone needs
to kick their Politically Corrects asres about. (Don't tell me you didn't hear
about the Barbie doll incident in oh-so Liberal Boulder. Fer chrissakes. What
a thing that was.) And that somebody is Harlan Ellison.
Anyway, my two cents. 'Scuse me now. Hafta to go write to pay bills.
Until next time. . .
I hate bad journalism. I haven't worked in a newspaper office in over ten
years, but the chafe never goes away.
What astounds me in this whole internet piracy thing is the hyperbolic, nonsequitor
nature of the arguments against what Harlan is trying to accomplish - and not
even from the pirates, but from so-called professionals. At a purely factual
level, this is a simple equation: a) as the creator and copyright holder, the
work belongs to the author (unless such rights have been signed away), and b)
the law is intended to uphold the copyright and the copyright holder's claim.
The free speech and censorship concern is so much rhetorical nonsense in this
instance that I'm embarrassed for those who espouse it. No one is restricting
anyone's right to express him or her self. AOL dropped the newsgroup? Boo-hoo.
RemarQ blocked posts containing HE's stories? Aww, shucky-ducky. I'll bake a
cheesecake for anyone who can explain how posting someone else's work en toto
is a valid method of self-expression, or how keeping thieves from ripping you
off (or from using the service you provide to rip people off) violates anyone's
constitutional rights.
I stand with mouth agape at Allen Adler's comment that "real" piracy entails
making facsimiles of the book. Of course, I now understand why big publishing
is in trouble. I know that one of the first things I worry about when I walk
the mean streets is how to deal with that guy in the massive trenchcoat who
opens it to reveal his fine selection of John Grisham, Robert B. Parker and
Stephen King knockoffs for sale. When was the last time anyone here saw a well-produced
bootleg book? Or ANY bootleg book, for that matter? Does Mr. Alder have any
idea what making an attractive, well-bound and desirable book costs?
And finally, Mr. Frauenfelder's piece de resistance, which had me in stitches:
"In his relentless campaign, Ellison risks... shutting down Usenet"
Wow. I mean, WOW. I knew the man had chutzpah, even wanted to take Latveria,
but shut down ALL of USENET??? Did I miss the rallying cry in the KICK statement
that read "Today, alt.binaries.e-book - tomorrow, alt.fan.hanson.die.die.die"?
I know - I'm preaching within the confines of the loft. But I have to wonder:
if ignorance really is bliss, why aren't these people more sedate?
Alejandro-
I checked out the original article on the Standard to see how the Times had
edited it (never have I thought of Harlan as "frothy-mouthed;" nor do I see
him as an enemy of free speech and friend of censorship). One of the "totally
unbiased" sources for Frauenfelder was Charles Platt. How did I miss it the
first time?
In addition to removing some of Marky's sarcastic remarks (please note, I said
some of them), the final paragraph was also omitted:
"But Ellison is having none of that. Those who aren't on his side 'have all
the business capacity of an emu with its head in the sand.' And if he must stand
alone in his battle to defend his works from craven offenders, so be it. 'I'm
tired of the bullies and the thieves, and if other writers won't do it,' he
says, 'well, this is not the first time I've found myself standing on the edge
of the abyss.' "
There is also a related link on the standard from December
"E-Book Publishers Face Piracy Panic" http://www.thestandard.com/article/0,1902,21117,00.html
Right on, brother! I couldn't have put it better myself. Well, I could
have, I just didn't give it much thought.
As to the story placement issue, it's what we in the business call a "filler".
That is, they had these two columns to fill, couldn't find a TV-related story
to fill the gap and went for the next best thing.
Ain't journalism grand?
Re: Frauenfelder, the great "bringer of truth" and I quote:
"Ellison, who doesn't use the Internet and writes everything on a manual typewriter..."
My gosh and golly, Mark, we were under the mistaken impression that it was Harlan
posting these messages here at Webderland. Sure glad you cleared that up, Mark.
Next issue, Frauenfelder will reveal the identity of Deep Throat, who railroaded
Sacco & Vanzetti, and the sculptor of the "Face on Mars." This yotz doesn't
even understand the difference between violating copyright and "marketing products".
My dog has a better grasp of intellectual property than this moron.
Alejandro, you are correct to point out the bias of the piece. However,
while I agree with that point, that it is unfortunate the Mr. Frauenfelder resorted
to the ghetto-ized category of "sci-fi writer" in describing Harlan, that it
is also unfortunate that the piece is buried in the television section of the
paper (rather than news or business, where all the Napster articles dwell),
it's in the dailies. At the very least, it's in print, where (hopefully) some
will read it before lining the bottom of the parrot's cage.
While Frauenfelder states that "neither AOL nor RemarQ responded to requests
for comment" (and I don't know who writes the checks at Scripps Howard), he
plainly wrote their "comments" under the guise of "journalism."
The flack says that "Ellison is ... waging this fight alone" then goes on to
say that support is being provided by SFWA, Ben Bova and Frank Robinson.
So let them make noise. Let this issue appear in another forum. Let the emperor
make enough loud declarations, and eventually people will notice that not only
is the emperor naked, but also fat, ugly and stupid.
The article was originally published in The Standard (which I gather is
a Scripps Howards newspaper). Here is the link for those of you who may want
to read it:
http://www.thestandard.com/article/0,1902,23194,00.html
Unfortunately, Bill, it was the most biased piece I have ever read on this
or any other issue. The piece is pretty much on the side of the pirates and
Harlan is painted as a fool for taking on these two huge companies. Most egregious
quote came from one Cory Doctorow who defended unauthorized postings of the
story as "a chance to align the interests of writers and publishers and audiences,
to make us all into partners who co-evangelize the stuff we love". Co-evangelize
my ass. Partners, my tucus. It's robbery, plain and simple. You post the story
without asking Harlan's or Asimov's estate or King's permission, you are, as
far as I am concerned and as I may have stated sometime ago in this here forum,
taking food from the artist's table
I am pissed, pissed, pissed.
A coworker just stopped by, poked her head in and said "I thought you might
want to see this," and produced a clipping from page 44 of the Chicago Sun-Times.
The article, by Mark Frauenfelder of Scripps Howard, is titled "Sci-Fi writer
wages war on online piracy." Nifty b&w pic of HimsElf (clipped from the photo
of him and Susan on the homepage). Certainly coulda been "SF writer" or more
appropriately "Writer". Still...two columns; not bad at all.
I also understand from Ashbook that the Brock manuscript was purchased over
the week-end. Which one of you was it?
Monday, I say MONDAY, mornin' Harlan here:
Peg, baby sweetie chickie: Amen to everything in your posting. If I wanna go
to a gig, I'll either pay my own way, or schmooze THEM into picking up the tab.
You are all sweethearts, every last one of you, but knock off the "let's finance
Harlan" business. We aren't hurting. It's embarrassing enough that we have to
go down on knee to solicit for KICK Internet Piracy. Anything beyond that...well,
we can do just fine. But thanks eversomuch for the sweet thoughts.
With undying affection, yr. pal, Harlan.
Jim,
This is pure selfishness, but if I were gonna pay Mr. Ellison's way to an event,
it would darn sure be over here in the UK where'd I have a chance of seeing
him! I'm sure he has plenty of chances to rattle cages in the states.
Which sparks my mind to another topic - iving abroad has definitely shown me
how US-centric our attitude can be in the states. How many "World" or "Global"
events held there truly are? As for entertainment, to a large extent most visual
media is biased towards the country & culture in which is it produced. It's
just that much of the US product is exported worldwide so you get flooded with
images of western, US culture.
Well, just a thought, anyway. Don't worry - I keep 'em pretty well locked up
most of the time.
*Maggie* - just thought I'd say hi, have seen you 'round.
Cheers,
Peg
Sunday, schmunday. What does it matter? So Mr. Ellison got it wrong? Like
everyone here has NEVER written the wrong date on a check? Oh, poo.
Anyway, as I am not Jewish (although I am told by a relative in the know there
are more than a few rattling about in the family tree) I will simply wish well
to those who are Jewish. Me? I spent the last week helping a friend lug his
5,000 frigging Easter Lilies here and there. Next year he can find someone else
to schelp. Oy. My hips are in my knees.
Now what was it I came over here for? Oh! Yes! Almost forgot! (Fer chrissakes,
is senility catching?) I came over here because I have a thought, a suggestion
(and you can feel free to pound me for it): Every year the University of Colorado
at Boulder hosts what is called The World Affairs Conference. Big types show
up--Roger Ebert, Molly Ivins, etc.
Now here's the thing: They have to pay their own way.
Anyway, the thought, the suggestion: Next Year Harlan Ellison goes and realllllly
livens the place up. But how? And should he hafta pay his own way?
Of course not. So let's send Unca Harlan to camp along the Front Range of The
Colorado Rockies and drive Ebert and Ivins and other assorted sparrowfarts nutso.
Thoughts?
Let the beating begin.
Until next time. . .
(This is the last time. I swear. The schmuck stops here.
But I just couldn't resist...)
When it was Saturday, or Monday or--well, pretty much any damn day of the week,
there was a highly respected, multiple award-winning author I played with: Harlan.
His real name was Harlan Ellison.
When it was Sunday, I ate bagels and lox in the morning, and at night there
would be great stuff on the tube: The Sopranos, Simpsons...maybe even a little
X-files. But on Saturdays there's just crap: Saturday Night Live and lousy HBO
feature films.
When it was that day, Sunday, I was sent away to my Aunt Brunhilda's house in
Schenectady, New York, just to visit for the week. We played pinochle and ate
water crackers. When it was Saturday, I came back home and went to find Harlan,
so we could play together.
It was Saturday. Harlan was still in Sunday. I didn't notice any difference:
I was just pretty damn sure it was Saturday.
From: Susan Ellison
To: Sheryl
Many thanks for the kind offer. Will pass your name on to our lawyer, Christine
Valada. It really is very touching to have you all supporting us in this fight.
Thank you.
HE on the ACTUAL Sunday, Passover, morning:
Sure, go make fun of a poor old senile Jew from Ohio, on this, one of the holiest
days of the Hebrew calendar. Pogroms, anti-semitism, Wonder Bread and mayonnaise...every
depredation against us you can conjure up, and now this: abducting a poor old
senile Jew from Ohio, brainwashing him so you can conduct your infernal Goyishe
rectal examinations and cowbloodletting tortures in your Gentile saucers, then
returning him to his Real Life with Extreme Time Loss...and then belittle him
because he can't remember the Far Right Christian Coalition Abduction. Where
is Donald Keyhoe when you need him???
I'm coming, Dr. Velikovsky, I'm commmmmmminnnnnngggggg......
Wearily, oh migoodness, everso wearily, yr. pal, The Wandering Jew.
Peter,
I hadn't even noticed. Maybe he was just up very late? Or caught the concorde
to my side of the pond?
Waitaminute...is that a 1947 Packard I see coming up the lane??
*tee hee*
Peg
Sunday morning??? Damn, that must be some major jetlag between California
and New York. I knew people lost or gained a couple hours, usually screwing
their sleep cycle like a sonovabeech, but losing a whole day? That's just rilly
rilly silly. Or scary, I can't decide which.
Pardon me. It's early. I'm up to go take some pictures of rocks. Rilly rilly
silly rocks. Okay, not so silly. Maybe... maybe large is the adjective I'm looking
for. Gargantuan even. Must stop. These two. Word sentences.
I've rambled enough for today.
---Peter
"Yo soy yo y mi circunstancia" --- Jose Ortega y Gasset
and right now mi circunstancia are rilly rilly silly.
Michael,
I don't even have the excuse of not taking Latin - I took it for two years in
high school.
Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
Sunday morning Harlan here:
Youse guys is FAWN-ee! Poor Barney . . . folks, before this gets TOO far outta
hand (and please take this as a direct insight to my soft underbelly, because
next to loading my Jivaro blowpipe with curare-tipped lima beans and firing
them at posters of 'N Sync and/or Jesse "My Ass is as Red as That of a Meat-rack
Gibbon" Helms, I batten on no intramural sport more joyously than that of baiting
poor old pal Dannelke), be assured it was nothing but my own teetering discombobulated
footwork that (not even closely, actually) resulted in that railing gate swinging
open and making it look to the horrified throngage that I was about to tumble
into the abyss. Barney was, in fact, the thing I grabbed onto.
Now, if you want a REAL candidate for the "mythology incident" sweepstakes,
let Barney recount the Friday night after-my-platform-appearance encounter with
the eight or ten Gentleman of Color. Or, as Barney put it to the quaking and
terrified horde of White Folks huddled against the possibility of race riot,
"Don't worry . . . Harlan understands black folks."
Even I like that story. But, again, as always, it will sound like a completely
impossible, emblematic (if not apocalyptic) (or apocryphal) story . . . three
parts wish-fulfillment, six parts bad movie scenario, two parts pure bullshit,
and fourteen point six per cent embellishment. Or, as we used to say at Ground
Zero in Nagasaki, "You had to be there."
Apart from that, I am enjoying the lot of you eversomuch. And that link to Dan
Thorne's story about being busted in LA when he was visiting me, well, every
word of it is true. The only place it lacks power is in explicating how #@!~*&!!?}{8^!!!
pissed-off I was . . . and still am. Even having busted the cops' chops sufficiently
to get them to send Dan that pro forma self-serving officially mealymouthed
"apology," I am determined that the next time our Mayor or our Police Chief
ask me for some public demonstration of my trust and adoration of their offices
. . . they're gonna get more than they bargained for. Or, more accurately: More
Than They Bargained For.
Zorro never sleeps.
Oh, and since you're batting around your personal choices for Most Treasured
Bit of Ellisonia, I'll tell you mine. It's this item named Susan. (Heh heh.
And they said I was stoopid. Today, Latveria. Tomorrow, the World!)
Take care'a ya'own bad seffs. Yr. pal, Heraclitus Ellison.
(once ya unlurk, you can never go back...)
Barney observed:
>
Limp, the body of Ellison sprawled, cursing far below us in the college gymnasium;
and it did not recoil from the unwashed aroma of Star Trek fanboys that lingered
foully over the dealer's floor. When Barney stepped back from the railing and
looked up at himself, it was already too late for me--and the other fans in
line--to realize that once again he had duped us, that Barney had had his fun,
that the so-called "autograph line" had been a diversion, a smokescreen for
his sinister attempted writer-cide.
Ellison was red with blood and redder with rage. It was as if a large fan of
his had just tossed him over the railing, causing him to tumble down hundreds--nay,
thousands of feet of wooden bleachers. "Assassin!" he cried.
-- from "The 'True' Story Of I-CON 2001, or I Have No Teeth (Anymore), And It's
Really Hard To See Ted Raimi From This Angle"
(i think that just cemented my position in hell)
Harlan et al.: Fowler's End (G. Kersh) with a M. Moorcock introduction
has just been re-issued in the UK. Available through amazon.uk. My article is
on its way to you--maybe already there. Oral arguments just completed at the
Supreme Court (US) on the Tasini case on 3/28. Word is the Justices (even some
of the conservatives) seemed to favor the writers during oral argument. However,
a decision is not expected until June.
Oh Barney, you sexy thang! Now I know why they say bald men are sexier.
*** All *** Well folks, another I-Con bites the dust. I must say I had
a blast. License plates were obtained and state borders were crossed with impunity.
My special thanks to Diane Brown, who treated me like some Prince from a far
off land instead of the insufferable gate crasher I really am. Giant gorilla
hugs to you. I think I may try to go next year just to remind myself what a
non-Ellison track convention program is like. Besides being a very well rounded
and diverse convention I-Con has the distinction of being a convention with
a real sense of history which I am finally starting to realize. Also, not too
top-heavy with media stuff. Still a huge-ass dealers room but I could have used
a few more book and comic dealers. Give it a shot folks. They need the support.
*** Phil *** Great seeing you and your extended family. Thanks for sharing the
"Paladin" anecdote. Favorite Ellisonalia - Ah me, oh my, where to begin... The
signed galleys of "Incognita, Inc." from his 1st public reading this past weekend?
The photo I took of him with Delaney? The photo of me and Tim Richmond with
the Dillons. The breakfast with Scott Edelman where he told me he was about
to stick his fork in my eye? The lock of his hair? The stolen bronze baby shoes?
The Mexican negatives? That night in the woods with the tree chipper and the
ooops...
*** Peg *** This fetish about rubbing the top of my head for luck [or fertility
for all I know] dovetails nicely with the previously little known fact that
my G-spot is located up there. I thought you'd like to know.
***Michael / Gregg / Harlan *** Hey Harlan, not that I ever doubted for a minute
but now I KNOW how these 'pushed a guy down an elevator shaft and dropped a
chandalier on a room full of people' stories get started. A few years of telephone
wire/ whisper down the ally and this will have me hauling your ass over a balcony
and you pulling me with you screaming gypsey curses at each other all the way
down! Just needs some "polish".
Tell Susan I got the belly rumbles about three hours after she did. White Castle
consequences?
That's it for tonight from the hinterlands. Hello Tim, Doug, Bernie, Phil, Diane,
Jane, Natalia, John, Kevin, Jeff, Jon, Michael, Paul, Perrianne, Walter, and
all the ships at sea!
Adding to the thread of prized Ellison items,
Somewhere in my house is a box of tapes and on one of those tapes is a recording
of Harlan winning the Hugo for Paladin of the Lost Hour in Atlanta. In his speech
he mentions me who at the time (1986) was still a little lost in grief over
the death of my mother. Earlier that day I had Harlan sign a couple of things
for me and I mentioned to him how meaningful it was to watch Paladin on the
Twilight Zone with my Father. The story at the time had touched me since my
Mother died while I was working the night shift at 7-11. Paladin has remained
one of my favorites and the ending still rings in my ears.
Another great moment was Harlan in New Jersey in 1999. One of the college students
asked Harlan during his night lecture, "What is it you want us to know?" and
Harlan replied after some thought, "I want you to know that you aren't alone."
One a lighter note, another prized item is Harlan's name card from ICON 10.
At the end of the convention we were picking up one of the rooms and I found
it and decided not to throw it out.
Some ICON 20 convention comments:
It was great seeing Harlan and Susan at ICON again. I never knew rubbing Barney's
head was such a desired activity. He could have provided an interesting diversion
during those long waits on the autograph lines!
Not only was it great seeing Harlan over the course of the weekend (Which has
been covered already in previous posts) it was also wonderful seeing those films
by Eric Solstein. It was great to hear Jack Williamson's voiceover in the beginning
of one of them (I forget which one) and also Philip J Farmer talking about a
scene in a story in which two people are having sex but not enjoying it. He
said Barry Malzberg probably wrote it! Great stuff.
The Sunday panel before the reading was also quite good except for the fact
that Harlan set up the stage and began the panel on his own as no committee
members were around. Also, even though Harlan speaks well and projects his voice
it would be nice if microphones could be available. Maybe nice cordless handheld
types instead of that lousy tie clip mic. But once things got going you really
forgot about all this minor distractions
Then there was a belly-dancing break before we got to the last panel on Sunday.
The bellydancers were good sports about the Union filling up with Ellison fans
before their final number.
A great weekend, going to work was tough on Monday because I work across the
street from SUNY Stony Brook and can see the buildings from some of the classrooms
I teach in.
Having Barry Malzberg on panels with Harlan is always great, getting Peter David
in there as well make them unforgetable.
Thanks again Harlan.
Harlan - Would Bruce Wayne deck himself out to the nines and dance down
the streets of Gotham, screaming "I’m Batman!"? Would Kent Allard leap onto
the bar at the Cobalt Club and proclaim before Commissioner Weston and the rest
of the assembled members "I AM The Shadow!"? Would Doug Lane, convention videographer
who scoffs at the arterial dangers inherent in carrot cake with the rationalization
"Well, it’s got carrots," climb atop a chair and shout to the rafters "I am
The Finder!"?
Eh. Maybe after I run down a Block Langenthal plate or two. Depends on the moment.
Though you couldn’t prove it by my 'sparkling' dinner conversation... next time,
I’ll sound off like I’ve got a pair...of course, be forewarned, once my gob
starts flapping, it usually takes a blunt force trauma to shut me up...
Xanadu - shame, shame on you - speaking for my identity. The arrogant presumption.
The unmitigated gall. Don’t make me spill the beans about what really happened
on the Number 5 bus from Vestal that chilly winter afternoon on the Southern
Tier. I know things about you, bub...
Greetings Webderfolk of all persuasions...
ICON was Fantastic - Harlan was amazing with my daughter, Brianna - who gleefully
tried to steal center stage at the Friday evening event.
The Saturday afternoon panel was the finest I have ever attended - it was amazing
to see two very passionate creators pour forth on such a deep topic. The Sunday
morning panel was also excellent, but not to the degree of Saturday's.
The Sunday afternoon reading was simply amazing. (While momentarily disappointed
at not being able to videotape it, I understand Harlan's point of view completely.)
Harlan glowed with deserved pride as he received a standing ovation at the end
of it. (I had only received my copy of the story from my esteemable comrade-in-arms,
Finder, the evening before and had not yet read it.) Wow. It has vaulted onto
my short list of Harlan Ellison everyone simply must read.
Harlan - Thank you again for your kindness to my daughter, and for your appreciation
of Doug's and my efforts at promoting all things Ellison - you have no idea
how many people came up to me and asked where I got the hat, or the shirt -and
the goggle-eyed amazement when I said we made 'em. And now you know why neither
Finder, nor Xanadu, introduced themselves to you last weekend - We have already
met in our slightly loopier guises of Doug and Bernie, respectively.
Michael - small world man, I started the Sunday morning panel in the spot you
ended up in, but as I started setting up to record, I noticed I was blocking
Susan and skedaddled two rows back.
Peg - the Barney head thing is nowhere near as much fun as you'd imagine - especially
if you try rubbing without asking permission first. ;)
And my favorite Ellison moment, hands down, to close out this post - six or
seven years ago on a sunny Alexandria, Virginia sidewalk, when Doug and I held
up a signing line for AT LEAST 15 minutes and got The Man to say, "This is Fuckin'
Great..." repeatedly.
Well, I don't know about the rest of you webderfolk, but the person I *realllllly*
wish I could have introduced myself to (if I'd gone to ICON) was *Barney*
(maybe he'd have let me rub his head)
*giggle*
Looks like I'm in a masochist's High Heaven.
Apologies to all for my flub on the "Hemispheres" story title. There is really
no excuse, since I was sitting in the front row. ("I don't know Latin" isn't
really an excuse, either).
Also had no intention of deifying HE with that inner-sanctum crack. (this is
your cue, Mr. Leghorn...) As I've learned, Harlan hates being worshipped.
(note to self: quit it with the scapulomantic divinations. not just for harlan,
but for the poor, poor oxen.)
Say it now: IncognitA! IncognitA! (Inc.)
Might van Swearingen's student be redoing "Bleeding Stones"?--the fragment
seems to suggest that the [cement] does something apocalyptic. But the fragment
isn't a direct lift, if lift at all...sounds a bit more like an HS student's
version of something by Barry Malzberg, from the sample provided.
Have received a couple of e-mail re: BROCK asking about helping out getting
it for Harlan. Unfortunately, I don't have two plug nickels to rub together
right now and my time to organize a fundraising drive is limited. Also, HE and
I do enough nice things for each other that I think we're both a little uncomfortable
about it - so I'm gonna give this one a pass.
I've talked to the guy what has it (his contact info is down below somewhere,
the place that has it is on the web at www.ashbooks.com) and he sez his only
other inquiry at the moment is a tentative offer to purchase at the end of April.
So I leave it in your hands. If someone wants to get the scratch together I'll
kick in twenty bucks.
Esteemed Harlan—
I’m in LA, and if it will serve you and your wife to have a volunteer file clerk-paperwork
sorter to help out with your documentation search, I will gladly contribute
some hours a week to the cause. Anything that lets you spend your time at the
Olympia instead of sorting paper is a worthy investment of my time. Please,
please e-mail me if I can be of use.
Harlan - for such a smart guy...will you ever learn?! ;-) You should know
by now you can't constrain yourself to a line or two. (As one talker to another,
I can completely understand.)
Speaking of KICK, I'm placing check in envelope as soon as this is posted! Really.
Honest. Promise. (I know, I know, it's a month late).
Peg
Harlan here. Just did it again. Spent an hour responding to all the postings
for the last week . . . and lost it. Yeah, yeah, I know, do it outside and import
it. I know. I know. But I never intend to write more than a line or two, and
I get going and . . .
So an hour's worth of everything is gone. Again.
Van Swearingen: If the kid is plagiarizing someone, it ain't me. I don't recognize
what you put up. Not at all.
Folks, the title of the story is "Incognita, Inc." not IncognitO.
An "A" not an "O"--two different Latin words. Please feel free to get it right.
To the guy who said "please" and I didn't hear it. Sorry I jumped on you. But
don't assume you were the one. Every third person in that line of several hundred
people would plonk down the item and say, "Sign it to Brad, that's b-r-a-d."
Or "Sign this" or "Will you sign this" or "This is for my brother..." Very few
people say "please," and so I reprimand every third seeker in the line. So it
may or may not have been you. Either way, don't worry about it; and I apologize
again for making you feel even the slightest unsettled.
I'm not doing a book with Stealth Press, apart from the various spectaculalrly
beautiful NEBULA AWARDS volumes in which I appear, despite my close friendship
with Stealth's editor, Pat Lo Brutto--with whom Susan and I had breakfast last
Monday at the Giraffe Hotel in NYC--though who knows what the future holds?
The book you're thinking of is TROUBLEMAKERS, a Young Adult-oriented new collection
from Byron Preiss's iBOOKS, an Edgeworks Abbey title "in conjunction with."
(Everything after the Morpheus 50-year updated edition of THE ESSENTIAL ELLISON,
which is at press as we speak, for release early next month, will be an Edgeworks
Abbey title.)
I still cannot understand why Finder and Xanadu and any of the rest of you from
here or HERC didn't friggin' IDENTIFY yourselves!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Makes me bloody
crazy!!!!!!!!! I don't have any bloody "inner circle" as that kid who was sitting
behind Susan posted. Yeah, I know Tim and Barney and Scott and a few others
of you a long time, and I certainly remember that telecon with sweet Peg, but
holy gee folks, I'm easy to get to...for my friends. And that's what y'all are.
So NEXT time, ferpetesake, open yer yaps and say who you are, remind me why
I should pinch your claw in greeting. Your timidity is truly misplaced. I'm
not a star. I'm just like you. Only meaner.
I know I've forgotten to answer something or other--and I'm surprised that Dan
Thorne posted that horror story about his bogus arrest, which I'll now go over
and read--but I have a movie to write, and Susan is ass-deep in paperwork supplying
the overly-broad "discovery" demands of AOL, RemarQ, et al, as we speed on toward
the now-established court date for the trial, early next year. Demands for documents--such
as every sale of "Repent, Harlequin" all the way back to initial publication
in Galaxy in 1965--which is hundreds, maybe thousands, of listings--and that's
only for ONE of the stories that's been pirated and uploaded--demands that only
waste my limited creative time, and concretize my animus toward them, which
will redound to their detriment when we win...as we will.
Goodbye for a while. Yr. pal, Harlan.
I'm not doing a book with Stealth beyon
Help please. One of my students has, I think, plagiarized one of HE's stories,
and I can't find it. It is about a wall of [cement] swallowing the world and
is written as a letter to the President.
Here is an excerpt:
Dear [Mister] President,
Life as you know is a series of drips...which we give off every hour of the
working eight, and the sleeping eight, and the dreaming eight. I say Mr. President,
our lives are a series of slow drips...my wife and I have learned not to expect
too much from our lawn ornaments...So when the [cement] first came, or when
I should say we first heard of its coming on the nightly-hourly-minutely news,
we became sort of puzzled...You have given quick speeches on the [cement problem]
as you call it...Nobody knows why it came...We all expected horsemen and fire
or Libyans and Anthrax, but not cement...
Any ideas?
Thanks, Van.
Peg: I handed HE a print-out of Rick Wyatt's post re: Brock when he was
signing books at I-CON (Of course, HE not knowing who the hell I was, this led
to some muttered grumbling about the damn internet, and how he didn't know who
the hell I was).
In any case, HE discussed it with Susan and thought that it was not worth buying
himself. No idea if he'd want it as a gift.
Re: Memory... (uh-oh...a tune...surfacing in my brain SPLORCH Ahh...killed it.
Let's proceed.)
You're welcome to believe me or not about this story. I was in my senior year
of high school, towards the end of the term...fresh from being soundly rejected
by several Ivy League institutions (these bozos in NY finally grabbed me. suckers).
Anyway, I was on sort of a personal mission to read all of Stephen King's books
before I graduated. On an annoyed whim, my mom grumbled something about broadening
my horizons. So I decided to take her advice. Swallowing nervously, I slowly
backed out of the SF/Fantasy/Horror "genre ghetto" aisles and found myself among
the...regular books. (I swear I am not making this following part up--) So I
eenie-meenie-miney-moe'd these aisles, stepped into the "EFG" one, closed my
eyes and did a little "the HILLS are alive..." spin-move with my right forefinger
extended.
(By now you are thinking, "I saw this a mile away. Get to the damn point. Which
book was it?") By all means, then, sir. I was pointing right at "Harlan Ellison's
Hornbook."
It just occurred to me that there is no real moral to this story, since on my
next library visit I was right back in the genre ghetto, yanking down every
Ellison collection I could find.
Most prized piece of Ellisonia? Sheesh, where to start...
An inscribed copy of Angry Candy, for which I swapped a Barnes & Noble James
Baldwin mug to Mr. Ellison in exchange (interestingly, I am sipping coffe from
that mug's twin as I type)....
An Hour 25 poster signed by Mr. Ellison and various other hosts....
A cover proof for the Strange Wine paperback edition, with the unfortunate hole
punch on the cover (standard for proofs that are being handed around the office
of a publishing company)....
My most prized, however, is still the first book of Mr. Ellisons that I ever
read: Shatterday, which I bought in 1988 (and I still have the book I bought
with it at Kroch's and Brentanos in Mt. Prospect, Illinois: Prince Ombra, by
Roderick MacLeish - a great novel if you can find it on Bibliofind or eBay).
Re: Favorite memories
Other than a few written messages from Susan, including the slipcase she made
for "No Doors, No Windows," the appearance at a local college (pictures and
notes elsewhere on Webderland), his inscription to us on a copy of "Shatterday,"
I think my favorite recollection took place some years ago while talking to
my (soon-to-be) wife on the phone.
At that time, she was unfamiliar with Harlan's work. As I described to her the
variety of fiction, essays, articles, etc., I flipped on the teevee to see who
Tom Synder was hosting - and there he was. "Quick, turn on channel two," I said
to her. We listened to Tom and Harlan, and even tho we were miles apart, it
was as if we were seated next to each other, as we are now.
BTW - I still think we should try for a UK webdergathering. I mean, there
are a number of us posting (and lurking) and it's not that big of a place compared
to the US..... Can't we meet in the middle at a roman wall or something? Not
to mention a pub?
Okay, daydreaming over.....
Rick - any comeback on the copy of Kersh's "Brock"? I'm happy to assist
in any way given my geographical locale and local currency. Just let me know.
You've got my email, I'll send other contact info.
Favorite HE item? Well, I doubt I'd part with any of my books voluntarily beyond
extreme circumstances. I'm not fanatical, mind you - no major addiction for
1st editions or such, nor do I try to acquire every little thing ever scribbled
or typed - but I enjoy having the collection of novels & short story collections
that I do own. I'm not sure I'd go back in a fire for any of them, though. [okay,
I'll admit a fondness for some of the edgeworks as the signatures & dedications
are unique, esp. the one with "Belle of Alaska' *shy grin* But I'd still probably
let it burn in favor of saving my skin and my dream car].
My favorite possession, really, is the memories of my 1 hour phone call from
the charity auction. Worth so much more than any of the books, graphic novels,
tapes, or CDs. And aside from natural senility or substance damage, I don't
have to give it up ever! Until replaced with memory of a face-to-face enduring
personal encounter (no 2 minute signing; we're talking lounging over food, coffee,
music, and conversation), they'll stay at the top.
(just call me a sappy sentimentalist)
Peg
Time for a new thread???
What's your prized HE item(s). Not just the rarest or most expensive, what's
your _favorite_.
When I first started dating my wife, she noticed I was really into Ellison.
On her own, she contacted HERC, and purchased 1st editions of Approaching Oblivion
and Alone Against Tomorrow. HE signed them (without her asking) "To Darryl from
Elizabeth. Via Harlan Ellison. With much love at Christmas, 1987." Suffice to
say, these books are among the first items rescued during a fire, after my wife
and kids, of course.
The other Ellison item special to me is an original manuscript (not a photocopy)
of the story "The Hour That Stretches." This is the story that was reprinted
in the collection Stalking the Nightmare. HE sent the manuscript to his friend
and colleague Mike Hodel (host of the show Hour 25 on KPFK radio in LA and character
in the story), for Christmas, 1981. I purchased it from a guy who got it at
the Hodel estate sale after Hodel's wife's death. I love the story (HE saves
the world after near-maniacal interaction with fandom), and there are lots of
handwritten corrections.
I have a ton of other stuff, but those are my favorite items (I wouldn't part
with them, short of starving relatives). Tell your story(ies).
Naiki -
The story "Incognito, Inc." was in the February issue of Hemispheres, the United
Airlines in-flight magazine. If you call their customer service line, you might
still be able to get a copy.
BARNEY-Can you e-mail me; my e-mail to you was returned. Thanks.
Lurker-no-more-Hurley>>ye are da fonniest!
the story that HE read at the convention, what was it? where can i read it?
is it really called Incognito, Inc.? is it any of his edgeworks?
Hey all,
Hope you're all fine. Damn you all with your conventions and suchlike; we never
get fun stuff like that where I live (unless they've got bit-part Trek actors.
Although there's a Buffy con in London next month which I may not be able to
resist...) Anyhoo, hope y'all had big fun.
Robbie, Harry - That is one magnificent story! It made me laugh,and it also
made me very scared at the whole arbitrary nature of the arrest. Worrying stuff.
If anyone hasn't read it, go find the link and do so now! It's superb.
Best regards
Jes
Hey guys,
I just read the story about Harlan that Robbie recommended. Don't miss it. It's
very surprising given all the stuff we often read about Harlan's "rude" behavior.
Clever title too. Here's the url again so you don't have to scroll in search.
IDOL WHORESHIP: SELLING MY SOUL FOR HARLAN ELLISON AND LANDING IN JAIL
http://home.talkcity.com/BookmarkBlvd/lamp_shadey/index3.html
Harry
Charlie, there's something else coming from Stealth Press, or so they claim.
I got an e-mail newsletter from them recently, and HE was on the list of authors
who would have books published by Stealth Press in the future. I forget how
it was worded, though, and I don't have access to that e-mail right now. I suppose
it could be the Nebula anthology reprints, but it didn't read like that to me.
Gregg, the only item I'm aware of by Stealth Press is a reprint of Nebula
1, edited by Damon Knight, with the HE story, Repent Harlequin...
Among other things, I also forgot one of my favorite bits: Harlan doing
a weird little shuffle across the stage to the podium and singing (IIRC) the
good part of "Surfin' Bird" by the Trashmen. Boppa mmm maow-maow, boppa mmm
maow-maow-maow. Cracked me up worse than the infamous camel joke.
Just for the record, I was the guy Michael Hurley mentioned who got reprimanded
for not saying please at the HE signing on Saturday morning, and I did say please.
I have a bad habit of dropping my voice at the end of my sentences, and Harlan
didn't hear me say please. I'll do better next time.
Also, Mike left out the best part about Barney almost knocking Harlan over the
railing. After grabbing his bulging eyes and slamming them back in their sockets,
Harlan said to Barney: "Assassin!"
I have a question, too, while I'm here. Anyone know what HE book Stealth Press
is going to publish? I was going to ask Harlan at the signing, but as I accidentally
got myself designated as Exhibit A for rude fan behavior, I figured I'd better
slink off after having my books signed and go practice saying please more clearly.
Much obliged for any info, please and thank you.
Is anyone interested in making an obscene offer on an original Atlernative
World Recordings Inc copy of Harlan!? Beautiful near mint condition with original
shrink wrap still on. This is the 1976 pressing and not the reissue.
Mark Frauenfelder has a piece in the Industry Standard on Harlan Ellison and
internet piracy
http://www.thestandard.com/article/display/0,1151,23194,00.html
There are a number of comments which can be made about the story. I'll just
say that Bruce Sterling hasn't made any of his novels available for free download,
just his non-fiction like the Hacker Crackdown.
Peter: Duhh, I forgot about ol' 4/1. I should have figured it out, especially
when Locus also mentioned that JP Kelly was revitalizing Amazing Stories.
Mike: Thanks for con update. Sounds like a grand time was had.
Salutations (said the spider). Mike the lurker here. Decided to write a
little piece on ICON for everyone. Bonus (or not): Seeing as I am just a prole
(punk college kid, really) and not one of you uppity-ups privileged enough to
enter Mr. Ellison's Inner Sanctum, this is all from an outsider's perspective.
(My first "con," too).
I'll keep the non-Harlan bits short:
Friday: Read on the board that Harlan will be at I-CON, in Stony Brook. Sounds
familiar, says I. But surely it can't be THAT Stony Brook (I'm an LI native)--gotta
be somewhere in Cali, right? Right? I check an old email from the Columbia SF
club (of which I am not a member). Say, it IS on the island! Hmm, schoolwork
vs. Harlan. Next train out of Penn has my ass on it. I crash at my folks' place
and wake early.
Saturday: Over the course of the train ride out, I learn that my seatmate is
a member of the five hundred and thirty-something-th Imperial Stormtrooper Regiment.
Yeah. That's what I thought, too. I mention my reason for attending (hint: it
wasn't for the "furries"). Response: "Harlan Ellison? I hear he's an asshole."
This coming from a guy with a duffel bag the size of a gas-bloated sea lion
carcass which is filled with homemade, plastic Star Wars armor. I say nothing.
HE's signing is early, so I take the stairs up--it's on some sort of elevated
indoor running track. Timothy Zahn (he of the unusually nonshitty SW books)
is signing stuff next to Harlan. I have in my hand an '80s paperback Bantam
edition of "Ellison Wonderland," the one with the really neat art of HE as a
toadstool-munching elf. Some folks are dragging along enough books to make the
Britannica tuck tail and skedaddle, so I figure I can get HE to sign the other
book I brought, "Deathbird Stories" (similar edition).
There are some unexplained hold-ups on the signing queue. Harlan walks down
the line a few times and yells some stuff. I get a little thumpy when he comes
closer. Due to the insistent refusal of my noggin to obey the bounds of rational
thought, the first reaction I have is, "Hey, isn't that a Taiwanese flag on
the back of that guy's vest?" Whatever you say, Mike. Anyway, HE was chatting
with some guy and his little kid...something like "Do you know what this is?
It's a BOOK. And I WROTE it. See my name here? That's me. I'm a WRITER." He
dumbed it down even more for the kid (rim shot). Then (I think I missed some
dialogue here) he threatened to throw the kid over the railing. But in a jocular
way. Really.
What happened next was real strange. Stranger than if "The Stranger" had a date
with "Stranger in a Strange Land" and drank some Strange Wine. It was, like,
divine justice, man. A big guy (who, in retrospect, might have been Barney from
this board...I had no idea what anyone looks like) walked past Harlan and pushed
him a little sideways. This knocked him off-balance and he tipped into the very
same rail that he'd just threatened the kid with. Which, ordinarily, would have
been solid and woulda kept him from tumbling down thirty feet of bleachers.
But this section was either loose, or a door-piece, cause it creaked and leaned
a few degrees, and I swear I could actually hear HE's eyes bulge. The door,
as it was, was locked, and I guess that prevented Harlan from loads of bone-breakage.
Huh. Somehow this got into past tense and I'm too lazy to go fix it all. Eh,
screw it, this is a con-summary, not frickin' "Snow Crash."
Cut to yours truly approaching the signing table. I hear Harlan cursing out
some guy who didn't say please. Gulp. Giving Mr. Zahn a guilty I-read-your-books-in-the-library-but-never-bought-any
look, I shuffled past him. Mrs. Ellison offered me a copy of the IHNMAIMS game
(after much prodding by HE to sell aggressively). Mouth: "Oh, uh, no thanks,
I, uh, I already have one." (I do, actually). Brain (bewildered): "She has an
English accent? What the hell? I am more out-of-the-loop than a defective roller
coaster." She said something like, "This one's going to be trouble," (not verbatim)
something that I honestly had no desire to be. Then, over to Harlan. Many stammerings
later, I handed him a printout from the board (Rick Wyatt's message). If, by
some stroke of ill fortune, Harlan is reading this, he knows who I am now. Maybe.
(I'm around six-one, dark hair, blue eyes, glasses, black leather jacket).
He signed my books, shook my hand. The "Deathbird" was really sweet, he got
it right above the wing, slanting up. I whipped out the digital camera and asked
Harlan if I could steal his soul. (See, that's my idea of a joke. Hardy-har.)
He said something like "Sure, I don't have a soul." I stepped to the side and
let the next guy through. He bent down and unrolled a "Boy and His Dog" movie
poster; asked Harlan to sign it. HE kept ragging the guy for having a Scottish
accent. The guy claimed he was from Long Island. Harlan kept at it. Now...I
know Harlan is a wizard with accents himself, but I'd swear the guy might have
just had a speech impediment or something that sounded vaguely Scottish. But
I dunno. Anyway, I got my snapshot and left.
Next up: a panel with HE, Peter David, Barry Malzberg (sp?), Solstein, and Edelman.
Briefly: If you weren't there, you'd better fucking wish you were, and if you
were there, well, if you're anything like me, you wish it was still going on.
The issue, roughly, was Art: What it is, what responsibilities it placed on
its creators, and what impetus provided for its creation. Deep shit, as they
say. I'll post my thoughts on the topic soon, if I can find the time. An absolutely
fascinating debate. Thank God for smart people. It ran long, and should have
run longer. Amusing incident: Someone (who I think might be on the board) gave
a roll of chocolate Neccos to HE. Harlan gave one to a cute little kid in the
front row (referring to himself as "Unca Harlan" in the process). Awww. The
kid then experienced a torrent of naughty language as the debate began...probably
around twenty "fucks" before the wafer dissolved. Hee hee. Had to learn sometime,
eh?
The next morning's Harlan panel was mostly about artistic responsibility. You
probably all know his position on this, but both sides of the issue were played
out quite well. I came in a few minutes late (damn LIRR) and accidentally sat
in front of Susan Ellison, much to my chagrin--nothing personal, of course,
but I was squirming a bit when HE and his wife exchanged words, since he was
looking right at me (behind me, really), and Susan's voice was right behind
my head.
Finally, Harlan's reading session was as funny as friday's panel was intellectually
satisfying. He got around to reading the story (Incognito, Inc.--the "Hemispheres"
one) after almost two hours of jokes. I won't spoil anything, though. It would
be great if there was some way to w/o spoiling it for those who haven't read
or heard it, though. Harlan commented on the story, and what he said reminded
me of what Asimov once said about his story "The Last Question" (still my favorite
of his). That is, the almost-chilling realization that once in a while, a writer
writes above himself--even beyond his own abilities.
At this point, you and I have both realized that my post is turning from a lighthearted,
intriguing account into a boring, skimpy summary. Time to stop kicking this
dead horse while it's down. (Yes. I KNOW. Jerk.) Soooo.... (as the weird line-drawing
educational pamphlets invariably end), any one of HE's cronies and compatriots
care to tell what it was like on the inside?
fingers hurting,
Mike
Here is a good test as to whether or not the Locus article was tongue in
cheek... Today's date is?
---Peter
Locus reports that the SFWA has announced the HE award, and the recipient
is HE, who will present it to himself. Don't know if it's tongue and cheek,
but the statement said he is the only person ever eligible to be recipient.
John Lewis Lives!
At least his work and his legacy do (in the work of Ornette Coleman as much
as in that of Air [the jazz trio], among so many others), even if he no longer
does.
Damn.
I forgot to say "Have fun!"
Have fun!
Hey, Robbie! Thanks, man! That story was amazing. Wow.
Hi to everyone at ICON. I just can't swing the trip on a dime. Oh, well. I'll
try to play some heads-up ball in the future and PLAN AHEAD.
Hi, everyone,
A friend just forwarded me this cool story about Harlan. The guy who wrote it
did a favor for Harlan once, and wound up getting arrested while visiting him.
It's called IDOL WHORESHIP: SELLING MY SOUL FOR HARLAN ELLISON AND LANDING IN
JAIL. Check it out. There's pics and a letter from the LAPD. Pretty neat what
Harlan did for this guy.
Robbie
The addy - http://home.talkcity.com/BookmarkBlvd/lamp_shadey/index3.html
Hey all,
Hope you're all fine. If anyone is interested, there's a nice little review
of 'Funny Money' at the following link
(scroll down the page and fin 'Gotham Knights #13'), that's right on the money:
http://scifi.ign.com/comics/3579.html
Enjoy!
Best to all
Jes
Joseph,
Re: the Batman lead. Thank you, my good man. I'll get on its trail right away!
Rob,
The story, "Funny Money," that Mr. Ellison wrote for "Batman Black & White"
can be found in Batman: Gotham Knights #13, and here's a little note about it:
http://www.enteract.com/~chrisday/Ellison/gallery/gotham13.html
Regards,
Joseph
URGENT MESSAGE FOR WHOEVER IS AT I-CON WHAT CAN PASS THIS ON TO HARLAN:
Thanks to an e-mail tip. I found an uncorrected proof copy of BROCK by Gerald
Kersh for sale. It's 125 english pounds which unless hoof and mouth disease
has completely debilitated the english economy should be around 200 bucks US.
I can e-mail order it or he can call:
(44) 1493 586280 and ask for Frank or Carol Ward at Carol's Books. Actually
that's the number from Frank's e-mail - the number on the website is (44) 1493
856280 so you better try them both.
Shoot me an e-mail or post here if the book is obtained. If you decide this
would make a great birthday gift for Harlan and you buy it PLEASE let me know
here so we don't go fookin nuts. Thankee!
I'd like to locate this Batman issue ya'll 've been rappin' about. I have
a very good Daredevil Harlan did in the 80's - a period when that series was
becomin' mighty fascinating. In case I need to locate it, what is the issue
number of the Batman book? Be obliged to y'.
Harlan, I read about the hassle book-signing trips can be but I hope you have
a great time meeting this forum crowd. I was miserable having missed your Beverly
Hills appearance - just couldn't make it on a Monday at 5pm with a calculus
exam coming up and my work hours overlapping. Wished they'd done the gig on
the weekend - a much more logical time I would say. I love Matheson's work too,
and genuinely would've enjoyed listening to you guys together. And I am a preeminant
Outer Limits fan. Always carried one minor disagreement with you (I am, of course,
referring to your passage on it in The Glass Teat): I am enamored of both first
and second seasons; I think Joseph Stephano was an excellent craftsman. His
melding gothic theater with science fiction produced one of the most eccentric
and neurotic series in TV history. And if you listen to his characters carefully
they sound much like the neuroses and anxieties discharged in his script for
Psycho. There were definitely things on the man's mind. Along with the remarkable
pseudo-European photography by Conrad Hall, the score by Dominic Frontiere and
great actors like Robert Duvall and Martin Sheen,I think the entire series remains
among the most intelligent of all bloody time. So there's my defense for the
first season. I imagine your appearance was to discuss the 2nd season. I was
very disappointed to have to miss it.
I still hope one day to get to chat with you about Bunuel.
*** Cookie *** Bring some cash for the insanely huge-ass deakers room.
I think they do credit cards for registration but check the website. Harlan's
first gig is 8PM Friday night. Signings are Saturday AM and probably a Sunday
signing but I haven't had time to read and condense the whole schedule. Give
yourself time to orient yourself if possible. The SUNY campus is slightly more
confusing than the rat maze in "Flowers For Algernon" after all the smart has
worn off your brain. And don't forget the one red rose...
And Where's THAT from kids?...
Hey all,
Hope you're all doing fine. It's a lovely sunny day here in the UK - it's stopped
raining for the moment, hallelujah - and the students upstairs are temporarily
silent. Life is sweet. Apart form the Foot and Mouth, of course (which, I fear,
probably looks a whole lot worse from abroad than it actually is.... there was
something on the news last night from CNN, or somesuch, which showed the UK
in blood-red, bleeding into Europe. Erk!)
Mr. Ellison: Thank you for the Batman story; it's not often we see him treated
so warmly and, well, as a person. Hopefully, should DC do another 'Black and
White' collection, it'll stand out proudly. (Oh, and Gene Ha's art - sublime;
easily the equal of what he's doing in Top Ten, and it lends itself spectacularly
well to monochrome work).
Interesting note: my comic-book proprietor told me that issue sold mainly (in
his store, at least) because people were coming in and asking for "the Batman
comic with the Harlan Ellison story" (this was when it first came in; I only
got it last week, from a friend). My comic book proprietor has spent the last
week in LA being an extra for the Spider Man movie. He is a lucky swine.
(Note to Mr. Wyatt: I tried to keep the butt-kissing down. Did I do well?)
Well, hope everyone's week is going well,
best regards to all
Jes
cookie- It is the ICON convention, held this weekend at SUNY Stonybrook,
located on what my father always refers to as "the god-forsaken sandbar".
All details can be found at: http://www.iconsf.org/
hope to see you there.
Xanadu (aka Bernie)
Wait! I am SO confused (being a jazz geek not a "comic-skiffy-whatever"
freak). HE's on the island this weekend?
What am I missing and just how damn ignorant am I?
I'm not working in the education or the gin mills this weekend. To where do
I drive, do they take VISA, and are walk-ins welcome?????
Harlan here:
Fast. Got to work fast. Internet, ugh ach ooow hack cough going to cut me off
gasp retch choke aaarghhh...
You guys saying such nice things about my Batman story makes me come warm all
over. I just LOVE that story, only LOVED writing it, and wish DC would take
note that that issue sold out instantly, and the dealers were screaming for
a back-to-press (which never happened, as best I can tell). And maybe someone
will deluge my old editor/pal Bob Schreck and suggest he ask me to do another
Batman thing in the foreseeable.
But, mostly, I'm here to say that I'm looking forward to taking a ride with
Finder and Tim and Barney and anyone else from HERC or Webderland, to the holy
and sanctified Valhalla of the "belly bomb," the White Castle hamburger emporium
right near Stony Brook, sometime maybe Friday. So's we can schmooze and annoy
one another, and cut up touches, and pollute our precious bodily fluids with
White Castle depth charges. Susan and I cut out tomorrow morning. See y'all
there. Barney (who will keep it a secret, please) knows where we're staying,
so coordinate with him and Tim.
Oh, and by the way: Tim, I sent out that box of stuff and clippings to you today.
The other night a guy came up to me in the book-signing line at the Museum of
TV & Radio in Beverly Hills, where I was doing a gig with Matheson and Joe Straczynski
and Dorothy Fontana and two very cool guys from "Roswell" and "Max Headroom"---and
he said he'd been reading here at this site, and had seen a message from someone
purporting to be me...and was it, in fact, me. So I told him if it's here, right
here, and it says it's from Harlan...that's who it is. Nobody would be schmuck
enough to try pretending, when I'm lurking, watching, breathing deply, and disrespecting
the net.
See some of you in a day or so. To the rest: try to stay outta the line of fire.
Yr. pal, Harlan. (I did it! I did it! Got it finished before it ate it! Bwah-ha-ha!
Today the Internet, tomorrow the Sudetenland!)
Free kudos? Candy bars? Hmm... Nope. Better not. Too many cavities in ye
olde noggin, anyway. Bother!
Finder - You're right. It was nice to see him as a character, not a trope
or archetype or cliche, or whatever. Loved Gordon's 'kiddo' comment, too, which
in one word established the relationship these two people have, something that
has never really been properly represented, I think. Or at least as succinctly
shown.
As for the rowdies - the holding agents have been informed today, and are "taking
action", which seems ominous, but what the hey. I've tried reason (went up there
to complain at 4 am the other night)but that didn't work. Not being able to
sleep is a peculiarly horrible form of torture and, whilst being a fairly passive
fellow, I've taken enough shit. I just hope they take the hint tonight......
Hope all is well with everyone
Best regards
Jes
Charlie - thanks for the heads-up.
Jes - I have to agree - too often and for too long, the Batman titles were written
so that every little thing caused his sanity to twitch - could be the Joker,
could be dust mites in the Bat cave, could be Alfred spilling a glass of milk.
It really made him tough to enjoy... oh, and good luck with the rowdies upstairs.
Been there - bad scene.
Peg - Somewhere, the proprietor of a Krispy Kreme has awakened this morning
from a terrible nightmare in which a banner reading "Webderland Meet-n-Greet"
hangs on the front of his store and the gathering within has been going on for
a week, with no end in sight for the eleven parallel conversations covering
three hundred twelve (and counting) distinct topics. Personally, I think it's
a FABULOUS concept.
Catch you all on the other side of I-CON!
The SFWA announced that HE and Rasovsky will receive the Bradbury Award
at its end of April banquet for their work on the Beyond 2000 NPR Radio Series.
Bradbury will be presenting the award to Harlan.
Hey all,
Hope you're all fine and life is good. Myself, I'm currently at locked horns
with the students that live in the flat above me and the lady; damn swines don't
seem to sleep, keeping us up regularly every night with plenty of foot-stamping,
door-slamming, and 4am washing machine activation. We've had approximately three
hours sleep a night for the last week, hence I'm a little delirious with fatigue
at the mo. Action will be taken.
Kerry - I was in the exact same situation as you a year or two ago, when I first
discovered the delights of Mr. Ellison. Thank God for Ebay and Zshops; I also
intend to fill any holes via the HERC collection (pointed out to me by Susan
Ellison - how did I miss it? Duh). Especially, if, as Punkviper says, the service
is so sterling and Mr. Ellison takes the time to autograph the books.
On another note, I finally got me a copy of the Batman issue with Mr. E's black-and-white-story
'Funny Money'. I thought it tremendous; the way he showed the detective, the
terrifying gothic nightmare (standing in the forger's cell....)and the ordinary
joe (his conversation with Gordon). Too often Batman is presented as two-dimensional
- tortured Bruce Wayne and psycho Bat - and we got to see several different
facets of this complicated character. It showed his sense of humour too, I think....
Anyhoo, best to all
Best regards
Jes
Thanks for the explanation Rick. I'll get down off the high horse now.
Personally, while I enjoy Harlan's visits as much as the next webderhead, I
figure he must have many other things to do with his time than hang around our
electric eclectic coffee clatch.
Now, if we all managed to meet at the same donut shop one day ... ;-)
Peg
also Fictionwise currently has 30+ short stories currently available for
cheap download and you pick the format. Kewl.
Kerry,
Yeah, I know what you mean. A certain noted online merchant has been pushing
the date of the new 50-year Essential Ellison tome for some time now. (*ahem*AMAZON*cough*scuse'me)
I remember when it was "December 12th of 2000," which it stayed until mid-March
2001, when it then changed to the current "March 21, 2001" and of course, that
was a week ago. So who knows.
But, yeah, check out the HERC like that other guy said. I ordered Dreams With
Sharp Teeth (which is a freakin' bargain considering it has Deathbird Stories,
Shatterday, & I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream) and got it pretty quick (I
sent a check, and thought it would take at least a month) and not only was it
awesome, but Harlan signed it too! No kidding, in red sharpie on one of the
front pages. And it's dated AND legible! I was seriously happy when I saw it.
Made me feel great. Not only do I get 3 great story collections in one book
for $20, but it's also autographed by the man! I'm still smiling.
You should try eBay too. I was able to get a hoard of the early 80's Ace paperback
editions of some of HE's stuff, which aren't always easy to find. Plus some
others. The Edgeworks series is usually available, if you're into that. And
individual books and mags abound. I got Ellison Wonderland on eBay for $1.99!
Paid more to ship it than I did for the book!
So there's my 2 cents. I remember getting into HE's work and thinking that it
would be impossible to find, but the HERC and with eBay (and it's evil step-sister
Half.com) it's fairly easy.
Good luck, and happy hunting!
p.s.
If anyone is itching to unload the 83 Ace pb version of Memos From Purgatory,
I'm listening. Thanx.
Rick: A thought, a suggestion, if I may: It seems this gray wad I call
a brain recalls something about Susan Ellison's e-mail. (AOL? Yahoo? I dunno.
Anyway.) It occurs to me that IF the Ellisons have e-mail all Mr. Ellison would
have to do is type an e-mail, go on-line (dial up, I suppose?), send it to you.
You do a cut and paste here, and ta-da: Perfect-o, or as close as it gets.
Until next time. . .
HARLAN - Alas, once again instead of an ellison here we get an elision.
Give me a buzz sometime - we can set up a temporary document you can use to
set up posts without losing the information. I'll walk you or Susan through
it with my usual élan. I'll even shoot you instructions for using it. It will
take about ten minutes.
PEG - I don't set any rules for posting here except that I ask you be as kind
to each other as possible. The disclaimer on the post page is meant to discourage
people from sucking up to HE in the hopes of free kudos or candy bars.
Barney -
AHEM. The "[somewhat] trusty Findermobile"?
You insult my fine ride, sir. Sure, there are those 171,000 miles. The ragtop
has more holes than the plot of "Star Trek V". The occasional minor bit flies
off and goes spinning through the air. And I don't deny that there are younger,
faster, prettier things out there with gadgets that would make Q weep with envy.
But to call my semi-beautiful aqua blue 1993 V6 Chevy convertible, my brave
companion of the road, the KITT to my Michael Knight, to paste a label like
"[somewhat] trusty" across its noble heart is to... well...
SQUEALER!!! FINK!!! STOOLIE!!! Now I'll NEVER be able to sell it on E-bay...
*** All *** ICON ICON ICON [sung by the Bell Starrs to the tune of Iko
Iko of course]. OK, Doug is coming up from D.C. in the [somewhat] trusty Findermobile.
Tim will be swooping down from the New England states like some sort of deranged
bass playing fruitbat, and Bernie [no relation] will, for all I know, be beaming
in straight from another dimension. Who else is up for mad fun in a smelly gymnasium
and a compound of classrooms that make Hitler's bunker seem like Epcot. LM freekin'
K!!!
Still Barney after all these years...
I think suggesting that Mr. Ellison use a word processor to do something
"offline" is, uh ... well ... he doesn't like computers in the first place,
if you catch my drift.
I make the following suggestion; althought more trouble, it might be more palatable
1. Harlan types his peace/post on the trusty Olympia, his preferred writing
instrument.
2. Fax copy to a designate (I'm sure there's many a willing & trustworthy volunteer
on the board). I believe Harlan has much less frustration with this technology.
3. Designate posts on the board. Either retyped, or if you have a computer based
fax you can probably use text recognition and do it electronically.
It's flawed (long response times) and a bit more trouble but then we shouldn't
be expecting multiple daily posts anyway. Just occasionally, when he feels he
needs to put in something on the subject.
*Rick* - on another subject, I notice quite a few folks now posting to Harlan
on a regular basis. I thought the disclaimer on the submit page was intended
to discourage that. (Obviously Harlan can take care of himself, and will only
respond as he chooses, but it's becoming fairly common). What's your position?
Peg
In addition to the new B5 movie, the SciFi Channel will be carrying CRUSADE
in April. No new episodes, but it will give you a chance to see all thirteen
of the original episodes.
Best,
Shane
http://www.scifi.com/scifiwire/art-sfc.html?2001-02/14/13.00.sfc
Kerry - Get thee to yon page right here at this very website that has all
the information about the Harlan Ellison Recording Collection (HERC) - Harlan
and Susan's ongoing concern in bringing you the man's works from the man himself.
(Follow the "Resources/Store") link above.) Why, it'll take you months to plumb
the riches they offer, and you avoid all the nasty, icky middle men inthe process!
Hello to all who frequent here.
Having read my first Harlan Ellison story a few weeks ago (Paladin of the Lost
Hour, courtesy of Webderland), and then reading anything I could find on the
internet (legitimately published), I am attempting to purchase several of Mr
Ellison’s books.
I have read that “The Essential Ellison, a 50 Year Retrospective”, may be published
soon. Is this correct? Are their any other books soon to be published, such
as Deathbird Stories?
Any news would be appreciated. All my current information comes from online
book companies, and even then I had to tell one of them about the upcoming Essential
Ellison.
For any of you who are wondering why I’m using the internet to purchase these
books, I have tried my local bookstore, second hand bookstore and town library,
all who have no books by Mr Ellison. The joys of living 300 miles from the nearest
city.
Regards,
Kerry Bullock
Lorin,
Well, change is all I walk around with anyway. And even that goes to the lawyers.
Barney,
No intent to suggest the exclusion of Twain, Kipling, Crane, et. al. They're
all necessary.
Funny you should mention a commute as helping you get back to the early stuff.
I took another crack at Moby Dick while spending an hour on the Chicago 'L'
every morning and every evening. Read Great Expectations during a long bus trip.
Went back to James's short fiction a few years ago during a three-day business
trip: workshops all day, and after dinner back to the hotel to read. Buses &
the 'L' gave me enough dead time during the day to go back to some of Hawthorne,
Conrad, Twain, Kipling, Dostoevsky, and others. Maybe every curriculum should
include plenty of long commutes. . .
Too bad HE's comments disappeared into electronic limbo. Would have been interesting.
All the best,
--- TR
All right, Rob. But I should warn you that since I make my living in the
literary arts, my purse is pretty much a CHANGE purse.
In other words, go fish. ;-)
Lorin,
I have a copyright on that suggestion. You'll hear from 3 or 4 of my lawyers
tomorrow...pull out the purse.
Sorry for the repetition. Rob's comment hadn't yet hit the boards when
I typed up my message.
Hi, Mr. Ellison --
I think I may have an suggestion to help alleviate some of your recent internet-fueled
frustration. I may not be the first to suggest this, so if this is repetitive,
or if it seems overly rudimentary, please forgive me.
Not sure what word processing program you work in on your laptop (but at least
assuming you have one installed), but it might help if you compile your responses
to the message board in your word processing program first.
Once you've finished, hit "select all" under "Edit" in your task bar.
Click on "Copy" or just hit ctrl+c.
When you have the text box open on the Webderland message board site, hit Edit/paste
(or ctrl+v) and paste it in. Voila!
An added benefit in doing so is that most word-processing programs have an auto-save
function, which will preserve your writing even in the event of accidentally
spasmodic fingers, power failures, and the like. You can set yours up so that
it saves at intervals of your choosing.
Hope this helps.
Lorin
To Harlan for next time you drop by here:
As this is getting, oh, a wee bit repetitious, I would like to suggest a surer
way to keep your passages fully intact so that we can bask in the glory of all
your words and avoid the involuntary editing imposed by the online system you
go through every time. After you read, say, Cory’s passages exit out and use
Microsoft Word to do all of your text. Then highlight, copy and go back online
and paste. Nothing will be lost, the posting takes a second and you have all
the time you want on the text. You can also, as you fully realize, copy the
online comments and bring them out with you to address directly any specifics
you’d want to cover. In other words, EVERYTHING can be done offline where you're
never pressured by a time factor. You only need to go back in to "Paste-&-Post".
After that you may even begin to LIKE the Internet. SHAZAM, baby!
Your response to Cory had, as always, an incisiveness the rest of us missed
(didn’t I concede that you rule? Hey, you’re today’s story of Christ and his
followers. Imagine that: an atheistic Christ and at least some atheist followers!).
You’re right, I am among those already corrupted - soiled by the process of
reason -and too close to the works of Harlan Ellison to not react with jingoistic
lynch mob reflex in defense of narrow-minded attacks gainst it. A bit ironic,
as this type of mentality is among the primal essences of man you often strive
to attack. Now I’ll have to take new measure of myself and readjust my thinking.
The point is, it was the partiality that triggered the cry for blood and, indeed,
blinded us from what was…yes…a truly unique moment: I can’t even remember meeting
a teacher who was actually willing to learn something from his or her student.
At least not before college days. I best go pick up the lynch rope I left in
front of Cory's school now.
Internet-Paranoid Ellison, part two:
Well, what I feared, came to pass. After sending part one of this advisement
to Cory, I began summing up, filled with salient quotes from Antonio Porchia
and Karl Kraus and Mencken and Twain. And I accidentally caught the ALT key
with my fingertip, and up popped this block of gibberish that said CLOSE on
it, and a bunch of other crap, and I yelled for Susan to come and set things
to right, and she came in and started to hit CLOSE and I absolutely knew, I
positively KNEW that was the wrong thing to do--just hitting ALT again would've
canceled it and I could've finished the twice-as-long-as-part-one-I'd-already-sent,
but Susan ignored my scream of caution, punched CLOSE, and lost it all. And
I'm so sick of this crap happening, that I'm not going to try to reconstruct
half an hour's stately, reasoned verbiage.
Cory, kiddo, I'm sorry. You'll just have to make do with what went before. You'd
have liked the second part. It had suggestions for stories to give to your teacher.
I knew I shoulda stayed outta here.
Wearily, Harlan.
Regarding what a teacher feels is inappropriate for a student to read,
I feel that any discouragement equates to censorship on at least some small
level.
Far younger children in the world have witnessed far worse crimes of violence
than that which can be read in books and they have turned out fine.
It is NOT the material that is harmful, it is the interpretation - and it is
the teacher's job (and chosen responsibility) to help the student interpret
the material.
On a related topic (for the board) - it is not the gun that is harmful, it is
how it is used. Both the interpretation of reading material and the use of the
gun fall back to the mind of the child. The formation of the mind of the child
can be helped by school, but is ultimately the responsibility of the parent
(until a certain age).
Am I preaching?
Harlan, I shall see you tomorrow in Beverly Hills!
-Matt
Harlan here, hissownself, on a Sunday morn:
Having now lost two long, complex and (dare I venture it) breathtakingly erudite
essays in this Gog&Magog electronic labyrinth, I am determined to make this
Cory-oriented response as concise as possible. (Well may you correctly surmise
that I check in here from time to time, but gun control and jazz have a limited
Urgency Response on my ready-board. That is to say: done there, been that.)
But the thread--I guess that's what you folks call it--anent Cory and his English
teacher drew my attention. So. . . a few, a very few words. . . directed directly
to Cory (but the rest of you may listen in if you choose).
Since none of us but you were present at the interchange with your teacher,
we all have to read above, around, and between the sparse reportage, to get
a sense of what The Teacher meant. And that means we're all interpreting without
sufficient data or inflection or body language or character background. I politely
chide those who wanted to string her up on less information than those possessed
by the lynch mob in THE OX-BOW INCIDENT by Walter van Tilburg Clark (a book
and subsequent movie you should absorb fully, Cory, to better enhance your sense
of justice and the dangers of jingoism and crowd patriotism). Your subsequent
posting indicates she caught on to the rashness of her dismissal, and that it
troubled you, and that she wanted to be educated. Makes her a good teacher,
in my view.
And what a remarkable opportunity. A student broadens his teacher's world-view.
How often does THAT happen?
But, in truth, Cory, she's not alone in viewing my work as troublesome, subversive,
demanding (the self-serving terms one uses) as well as heretical, anarchistic,
counter to "accepted" societal templates and, yes, even brain-rotting. She may
be dead on target, and giving you what she believes to be sound advice . . .
to stay away from this Pied Ellison of Hamelin, who will lead you off into the
mountain of Disrespect and Individuality.
Never mind that the lovely folks on this board regale me for what I write. They're
already corrupted, so they cannot be trusted. I adore them for it, they make
my life infinitely sweeter (and I hope they'll come up to find me at the I-Con
next week, and introduce themselves with their Real Identities, so I can pinch
their claws in camaraderie), but right from the start of my career I've known
that what I write is going to upset many, piss off more, derange a few, and
eventually spread a miasma that blankets my work with the label "brain-rot."
That's okay by me. I am absolutely responsible for what I write. (You might
point out to The Teacher that RESPONSIBILITY FOR ONE'S ACTIONS is a core element
of my work.)
TO BE CONTINUED IN A MOMENT. I'M AFRAID I'LL LOSE THIS IF I DON'T SEND IT NOW.
Harlan, back in a moment.
*** Peg/Doug/Tony *** Thanks. It seems I've discovered my true purpose
in life. To get otherwise grownup people to squirt liquids [and if I'm good
- SOLIDS] out of their face holes. Allright!! Shhh!! Here comes teacher. Becky,
stop kicking me. I did NOT pull your cooty infested pig-tails...
Don't know who said the James quote. Life short - must stay focused on nose
squirting mission...
... Ok, I'm back. Sure - "Turn of the Screw" and some of the shorts. Agreed.
Just not at the expense of Twain, Kipling or Stephen Crane. I gotta tell you,
Doc Savage novels and the like damn near ruined me for 'real literature'. In
this sense Corey's teacher could have been on the right track. Quite a few people
don't ever get past Harlequin Romances and there are real reasons beyond IQ
limitations for that. What got me back in the reading game was that when I was
in my late twenties I had a hellish commute and I assigned myself books on tape
as an alternative to radio. What I did was I chose books that I was [at that
time] to lazy to read. So Atwood and Melville and Conrad and Turgenev [unabridged
mind you] got absorbed while I simultaneously battled road rage and Kurtz's
heart of darkness. The pacing of 19th century writers is much more easily accomodated
when your being read to. OK - everybody take a sip of something - got it? Hold
it...
Your mileage may vary.
*Barney* Despite the sluggish response of satellite signals, I just couldn't
contain myself after reading that first post. Brain rot... back alley black
market literature. Tee Hee. You and me, man, have just GOT to get together someday....
Thanks for the laugh.
Barney --
Loved the quote about hell's book selection; it almost made me spew my coffee
out of my nose. If you happen to know who said that, I'd love to know the source.
Haven't seen the Merchant Ivory James films -- they didn't play out here in
the sticks; I haven't gotten around to renting them because I doubt that some
of those novels would transfer well to the screen anyway.
One of the nightmares of college was having to read James's novel The American
in a lit survey course. It's a book I still haven't been able to go back to
for a second look (though it's waiting patiently in my bookcases for me). James
is one of those writers who reads better long after the forced-reading-for-the-classroom
taste has faded away, and I suspect for most contemporary readers he's best
taken in small doses. If you ever decide to look again, try the short fiction
instead of the novels. The Signet Classics edition of "The Turn of the Screw"
isn't a bad choice; the title story, "The Aspern Papers," "The Beast in the
Jungle," and "The Altar of the Dead" hold up quite nicely. The Penguin edition
of "The Figure in the Carpet" & other stories isn't bad either. IMHO.
One other thing that occurs to me re: the teacher's objections to sf (and perhaps
other categories of popular fiction as well, but I think it's most pronounced
with sf). From the time I picked up my first real sf novel at the age of 12
(Heinlein's Puppet Masters -- still a favorite), sf was very nearly all I read
for pleasure until I graduated from college in 1971. Summers were heaven, because
I was a faster reader then and could devour two or three books a day. What I
found when I thought about it nearly 15 years later was that the nearly total
immersion in contemporary popular fiction had done interesting things to my
attention span and my expectations for a work of fiction. When I went back to
take second looks at writers like Melville, Dickens, Hawthorne, James, and others
from the previous century, I found myself impatient with the slower pace of
the work -- they didn't shoot the sheriff on the first page and the language
wasn't the lean, stripped-to-the-bone, more Hemingwayesque prose I'd gotten
used to. So it was harder going than it might have been if I'd been reading
more heavily in their works all along. Nothing shortens the attention span like
television and movies -- but in the view of the teacher, might not genre fiction
(I seem to recall Stephen King describing the same sort of reaction from a teacher
to a John D. MacDonald novel) have the same kind of effect? Just wondering.
Any teachers out there who'd like to comment?
Hey Cory,
I hope you're enjoying C&P. I actually first read that for my senior year of
highschool; I had a horrible teacher for the class but at least something good
came out of it. Last Spring I took a course specifically on Dostoevsky and it's
was one of my favorite classes that I've taken here, if you like Crime and Punishment
move on to some of his other "great novels" ( I recommend the Pevear translations,
but it's a matter of taste ). Hope once you get out of highschool you get the
chance to go on, cause believe me, man, once you're in college everything changes:
not liking the professor is grounds enough to drop the class and you get to
pick everything around your interests. There's still bullshit to deal with,
but not nearly as mundane as what you're dealing with now, at least the slackers
there are there for the most part because they want to be and in your classes
they share common interests. Just hold out another year until then.
It's weird being called Mr. by someone hardly much younger than I am, but I
appreciate the respect. In case I forgot to mention them and you haven't stumbled
accross them yet either, you might also like Alfred Bester's Demolished Man
and Stars My Destination or any of Ted Sturgeon's works. Always glad to pass
on the word to an open ear.
Hey, check it: Cory reports that when he challenged his teacher, he/she
admitted that his/her initial reaction was out of ignorance. Cory's teacher
is not a hardcore ignoramus, but rather, a human being who is fallible and subject
to foot-in-mouth disease. Which one of us hasn't been there at one time or another??
The groovy thing is that Cory stuck to his guns (no reference to the ongoing
"right to bear arms" debate) and argued successfully for the brilliance and
depth of Harlan's writing (and I hope he doesn't mind my not calling him "Mr.
E." I know he remembers everything and a couple of Clark bars probably mean
something even though retro-candy has once again become "de riguer." Anyone
for a Zero bar?? I can pick 'em up with my mornin' papers...)
One thing that concerns me as a collegiate instructor is that my "kids" (and
this is the first year I really see 'em for the kids they are)often look to
me to know the "definitive" answers. They want me to tell 'em exactly how to
interpret those little black dots.
I can tell 'em alot. I've meditated on the nature of swing and the true meaning
of those li'l black dots for years. But I can't TELL 'em how to FEEL it. That,
they must experience.
I like it when my "kids" argue with me. It keeps me open, and any teacher who
thinks she has ALL the answers, is wrong, IMO.
Sometimes, it's not about the "answers." It's about the debate amd the thoughts
riled by another's thoughts.
Sheeeit.
The vocabulary in your "average" Harlan Ellison story is alone worth the price
of admission!
Again, besides the beauty of his beauties and the ugly of his uglies, HE doesn't
write "down" to me. He writes to elevate me, even if it sends me to Oxford Unabridged......
Stay interested and tuff, Cory. Read and think as you will....
*** Tony *** I agree with every point you made but I have to take exception
to your citation of Henry James as part of the "core". There is a quote which
goes something like - "They say there are no books in Hell. Nonsense. The walls
of Hell are lined with books. Sadly, they're all by Henry James." I don't hate
him the way that Twain despised James Fenimore Cooper but man, there are better
ways to spend your reading time even if you're talking about the same 4 decades
of American lit. Even Merchant Ivory films couldn't save that lot. IMHO.
*** Doug/Finder *** Good Morning!
Re: the teacher.
Don't sweat it. Teachers who sneer at sf (or anything that looks like sf from
the cover) are an old story -- had one myself in high school and I don't recall
that it ever did me any harm. At the time I dealt with it by reading what I
was assigned for the class and reading whatever I damned well chose outside
of class. Everybody was happy. Except maybe the teacher who saw every morning
on my desk whatever outside reading I was carrying around in anticipation of
lunch hour.
Just to play devil's advocate for a moment, though:
The teacher should presumably be trying to get the kids to read and understand
and enjoy the core literary works of the human species. (I say "presumably"
because some of the textbooks I've seen lately aren't exactly filled with core
literary works.) Say sf to most teachers, and most folks in general, and the
image that comes to mind isn't "Paladin of the Lost Hour," but "Star Wars."
The teacher may suffer from a misperception of the true state of print sf, but
from the teacher's viewpoint spending time at all on that sf stuff is a waste
-- the kids could be reading Poe and James. Much of what the teachers should
be trying to get the students into will go right over the heads of most of the
students -- it certainly went over mine at that age. But when the students leave
high school, chances are good that a number of them will never even hear the
names of many of those writers again. High school's the last chance to introduce
the student to the core. The popular culture may lead them to Harlan Ellison
-- there's very little chance that the popular culture will lead them to Henry
James. Anything that distracts from the presumed curricular goal will be regarded,
and rightly so from that viewpoint, as a waste of time.
The irony, of course, is that certain popular writers probably do more to lead
their enthusiastic readers back to the core works than many teachers do. Harlan
Ellison's one of these -- his comments on a wide range of writers have steered
me to more good reading than I'll ever have time to catch up with, including
second looks at writers high school and college classes had just about ruined
for me with term papers and symbol-hunting. I think if I were a teacher and
had a student "wasting" his time on sf, I'd want to see that the student also
saw articles by and interviews with the writers as well as just the stories;
sf writers have always been fairly generous with their praise of good stories
in or out of genre. A well-selected batch of comments by those waste-of-time
sf writers could well be the gentle push a student needs to get him to read
some of those core works for fun.
If I suggested censorship, then a correction is in order. Not at all. This
is just a case of a teacher with too much idealism.
Until next time. . .
Gang: You can read all about the new B% movie at:
http://www.scifi.com/scifiwire/art-main.html?2001-03/20/15.20.sfc
Maggie, Don't know about the B5 question, but it appears the SF channel
is now running NEW Outer Limits episodes Fri. nights at 10 p.m. Last week's
was with Tom Arnold as the head of the household whose position is supplanted
by a robot he gets on a 30 day free trial. Predictable, but nice having some
new episodes. It looks like a new production team as well.
Barney - Thanks for the reminder that I shouldn't read this board while
drinking the morning coffee. Starbucks burns the sinuses, kids!
Hey -
I just had an email from Shane saying that the SF Channel has announced a new
movie with a possible new series - B5 - The Legend of the Rangers. Is HE going
to be involved with this series the way he was with the original B5?
Maggie
As for the teacher: well, I respectfully disagree with her opinion on HE
but IMO the wiser advice to Corey would be to just read what he wants and blow
her off. She gave an opinion when asked. As stupid as we think that opinion
is, it's just an opinion; she's not going on a witch hunt. And neither should
we.
As for notifying Harlan: I don't see a case of his work being censored, just
another case of an asshole teacher. I'm not going to drag him into this, it's
my opinion he spends too much time chasing around chickens as it is.
*** Cory *** No man, she's right. Total brain rot. Will turn your cortex
into a lint screen. Bad juju. If only I'd had her I could have become a useful
and productive member of society. Instead I weep bitter tears and curse the
day I bought that copy of Paingod from that derelict in the ally behind the
library. I should have suspected the worst when he collapsed after a fit of
mad laughter. His last words? Funny you should ask - "Albatross".
Ohh, I see I've wet myself again. I have to go...
Corey: If she's agreed to look into Harlan's work, you need to hold her
feet to the fire and see if she's sincere about being more open minded, or if
you were simply being shined on to get you out of her hair. It's very possible
that she 'said sorry' just to shut you up. Get a book and give it to her tomorrow,
and ask her to read a specific story of your choice. Tell her you would like
to talk to someone about it, and would she oblige.
If she's seriously sorry about her "snap judgement" she'll take you up on it.
If she blows you off about it, I stand my advice that you get out of that classroom.
You and your interested classmates deserve better than this; but you'll have
to be the one to demand it. You're 16, and while you're culturally still considered
a child, if you're savvy enough to understand the value in Harlan's work, among
others, you're certainly grown enough to actively participate in designing your
own education; don't be dictated to or limited by what others tell you is appropriate
for you. "Be appropriate" in the mouth of a teacher is just edu-speak for "let
me control you."
So what do you think of our friend Fydor and his creative children??
when I started composing my post, Jim's post was at top. This teacher may
be a little more open minded than at first glance, but she still has to be observed
closely. Snap judgement or no, first reactions are usually honest reactions,
(usually... times of extreme stress and such can kill that little hypothesis)
but at least she is engaging in an open dialogue. Still, that doesn't excuse
bad teachers in general.
---Peter
furor scribendi
Actually Jim, in this case, the best thing would be to get parents involved.
Even then, "proper authorities" will try their damndest to stonewall any motion
against this teacher who will probably be allowed to continue her reign of literary/moral
brainwashing. I just thank goodness that Corey here has the good sense and mental
faculties to see that this lady is full of shit. He's one of the saved. But
think about all of the poor little high school juniors who will have their still
developing little minds warped and twisted by this lady's sense of social propriety.
What really gets me though, is that she has probably only ever read one or two
stories of Ellison's, probably in college, and probably as required in some
elective or other. I'd even go so far as to say the two stories she read were
probably _I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream_ and _The Whimper of Whipped Dogs_
There seems to be some kind of taboo against labeling a teacher as bad. States,
unions, and even some parents don't want to admit that sometimes the people
we leave our kids with aren't exactly up to snuff. But there are bad teachers
and until we are able to take them to task they must be avoided like the plague.
---Peter
furor scribendi
To Jim:
Versing that high school kid in Ellison is particularly what I was doing in
the very short time I had. I agree with you about the "go git 'er" advice, though.
Outside of uttering nonsensicals, that teacher can't do anything to him. He
should just disregard her. We were all just taken aback by the explosive display
of ignorance or personal bias from that teacher. But it is up to that student
to make the choices and I think he's taking the initiative to do just that.
However, a forum is a forum - a place of dialogue and debate. This site is centered
around Mr. Ellison but topics are hardly isolated to the subject. I realize
you know that, but I'm tossing it at you anyway.
Ohmigosh! Those are probably the most encouraging peices of literary advice
I have ever recieved, (just a step above: "Read Enders Game, child; I think
you will like it"). So far I have been through Strange Wine, Approaching Oblivion
and The Beast That Shouted Love at the Heart of the World. Mr.Ellison has been
one of few writers I have ever been this hooked on. Since I have officially
expended the library's collection of Ellison books I have moved onto Crime and
Punishment, (thank you for the suggestion Mr.Castro).
As far as the teacher goes, its going the long route the official way. There
are a few fellow schoolmates that believe the cirriculum is well... inadequate.
But the majority of the students are slackers or posing to be hippies and prefer
it to be like it is, easy. If the majority is happy, the toppers are happy.
Were working her down though, and it will come to a conclusion. Thanks. I did
also talk to her about her views on Mr.Ellisons work and 'sci-fi' in general.
She said it was a snap judgement and that she was sorry for imposing such a
closed minded view. She also said that if I felt so strongly about it she would
look into his work.
The main reason I enjoy his work so much is that he writes about what is real
in a possibly surreal fashion. Death, love, hypocracy, pain, greed; these are
all things that I see every day, and he does not choose to sugar-coat it and
hide it behind a 'book-of-the-month club' rating. It was such a shock to me
that I even read Strange Wine through twice to make sure I recognized that detail.
In a life such as mine, it was a surprise to find that there was little freedom
of opinion around me, this is very cool.
I would like to thank all of you again for your encouraging and swift response
to my post. It was a big help in my world.
-C.Slater(male; 16y)
My two cents: Don't bother with the teacher. She (or he?) will be addressed
in due time by those who have proper authority in such matters. Breaking out
the tar and feathers will do nothing but get YOU in trouble and make said teacher
a victim.
A suggestion, if I may, on this matter: Mr. Ellison (remember, folks: Don't
be calling The Man 'Harlan' or 'duuuuude') has been known to drop by here from
time to time. (Oh, Rick? How's about giving Mr. Ellison a heads-up on this one;
it would be worth his time to drop in to the forum with regards to his writing.)
Since he does and since this forum is supposed to be about HIM and his writing
and not primate poo or monkeys with guns, it makes sense to take this ambitious
student under the collective wing and verse him (her? Sorry. I have the mental
capacity of snot at the moment; it's spring time, dang it.) in the writings
of Harlan Ellison. Doing so will effectively negate the educator in question
and would go to demonstrate how the World Wide Web and the Internet can be used
to educate.
Like I said: My two cents. I'm off, now, to slosh through snow and mud to enjoy
Nature's bliss.
Until next time. . .
Corey:
DOUBLE postscript! I really have to apologize for skimming your entry so fast...I
mean SHE is walking around with a chronic case of myopia. Tell HER - yer whipcrackin'
school marm - to get herself straight with the material. I undermined my point
earlier, I guess, for not getting the genders right. Well, I HOPE my point was
still effective.
Your embarrassed subversive lit advisor,
Rob
Corey: Go to your counselor with your parents IMMEDIATELY, and GET OUT
OF THAT CLASS. You should also take your parents to the head of the English
department at your school, and talk with her department chair about this. This
is serious. Any English teacher at your level who would try to censor your reading
habits based upon her literary prejudices is a danger to not only your intellectual
development, but that of your peers. And a first year teacher—my God.
I quit teaching high school awhile ago, but I used to ASSIGN my juniors to read
Harlan as part of the American Lit curriculum for 20th century authors. There
is simply no other writer, in my opinion as a trained, certified and experienced
high school English teacher, who represents the range of the 20th century American
experience across such a broad range of genres and venues as prolifically as
Harlan Ellison. Most writers have strengths as essayists, while others can only
write fiction effectively—Harlan does it all. In my opinion, the only writer
who can stand with him is another who is tagged as a ‘sci-fi’ writer, and that’s
Asimov. Finder’s given you a great list—I would add a playwright, David Mamet
--but they’re all playing catch up to Harlan and Isaac.
I can’t stress enough, GET OUT OF THERE. If she’s expressing a verbal prejudice
to you about Harlan, then she’s infecting her teaching with other prejudices
that she hasn’t expressed as publicly, and you’re being fed poisoned brain-food,
dear one. What’s worse, is that you’ve got very little time left to salvage
your junior year. The curriculum in 95% of public high schools in the 11th grade
is intensely directed at the concept of developing independent critical thinking/critical
writing skills (at least, that’s what the textbooks they give you say they’re
designed to do) and the person who’s supposed to have been guiding you in building
these skills is clearly limited in them herself. My experience has been that
you can’t teach something effectively if you can’t do it yourself. You are being
put behind an educational eight-ball.
And find out where this idiot went to college, so none of us encourage anyone
to send their kids there! That kind of out-of-her-ass literary prejudice didn’t
spring up out of her clearly limited intellect all on it’s own. Some college
professor said it to her, and she’s just spouting it to you.
If you e-mail me an address for the school, and more particulars about your
goofball teacher, Corey, I’ll be glad to send an e-mail to the school administration.
This is one of those bad teachers in the making, and she needs to be stopped
if possible. If she’s first year, there’s a remote chance she can be saved,
if someone intervenes now. If she gets past this first year and gets away with
this, she’ll never be called on it. It must be now. She’s more dangerous than
you realize. I’ve been in the educational jungle with her ilk before, and have
seen the damage. Infinitely more dangerous. Again, _GET OUT_.
Postscript to Corey:
I hope you're grabbing those Ellison books. It just occurred to me, tell that
teacher of yours to check out this website and get some intake on what this
author is about, and the comparisons his readers make to other writers. People
who rot your brain are not commonly compared to the likes of Faulkner, Miller
or Shakespeare. Your teacher needs to understand he is inflicted with a chronic
case of myopia, walking the earth with a sweeping misconception that anyone
who has been in any way associated with the SF field is to be stamped a "genre"
writer - some sort of substandard. And EVEN genre writers are not exactly "brain
rot" (Phillip Dick, Clarke, Asimov, Ballard, et al - all intriguing and stimulating).
And violence and explicit language are often used as literary devices. You now
understand literature better than your whip crackin' schoolmaster.
Cory - No way. Your teacher's arguement is rooted in a remarkable lack
of knowledge of Ellison's body of work. I started reading Ellison when I twelve,
starting with "The Beast That Shouted Love At The Heart Of The World" and in
the ensuing twenty years, I haven't stopped. And I'm none the worse for wear
- I don't eat children, I don't torture animals, I don't blow things up, I treat
women with respect, and I'm fairly normal.
There's no denying that Harlan Ellison uses some graphic elements within his
fiction. But your teacher can't ignore that he uses other elements as well:
compassion, humor, fear, longing, determination, honor, dignity, the idea of
consequences for our actions. He's not writing smut, he's not writing trash
- he's writing of the heart and soul of mankind, without varnish or fluff. You
will learn from his words, be it his fiction or his essays.
Wholesome? I don't know from wholesome. "Little Women", maybe?
But if you're looking for recommendations, I'd probably tell you (in no particular
order) Edgar Allen Poe. Shirley Jackson. Ray Bradbury. Charles Beaumont (if
you can find him). Ambrose Bierce. William Faulkner. Ernest Hemmingway. And
Harlan Ellison. These are just my personal favorites (and the short list at
that) - I'm sure every person on this board (much like our jazz discussions)
has a dozen different recommendations they could offer.
And remember - we live in a world with a lot of people who have knee-jerk reactions.
They will, for example, try to keep people from reading "To Kill A Mockingbird",
"The Diary Of Anne Frank", "Death of a Salesman", and "Of Mice And Men", among
many others, simply because they, as individuals, don't like the book's tone
or its content. But these kinds of people are no more qualified to decide who
should read what than I am. It boils down to this: You try a whole lot of stuff.
You find what you like. You read what you like. And you don't take anyone's
condemnation of a book, or an author - especially an author you've taken a liking
to - at face value.
Well, lookee that. Somewhere out there, the belief that SF will rot your
brain survives! WHO KNEW? Talk about your throw back. Sheesh. My advice? Read
all the HE you can lay hands on. It most certainly will NOT rot your brain.
Now, Danielle Steel, that might rot your brain.
Personally, I highly recommend The Glass Teat. That was my first HE work and
I'm still partial to it - that book taught me to question the appearance of
things and to look deeper. I'd like to see the attitude prevalent in that book
brought into the classroom today.
Maggie
To Corey:
I gotta enter this fast BUT...Is this exemplary of the teachers we ought to
be giving raises to? Your question is a really excellent one, Corey, my man,
because it means you ask the right questions about life. If that guy read your
query he should know you’re more than ready to read ANYTHING. He, on the other
hand, has proven himself underqualified as a teacher, by virtue of his ignorance
(Ellison is brain rot????). This is literature -writings exploring, and at times
denouncing, the searing pretense of virtue civilization has evolved with but
also the determination of the human spirit: in Ellison the human psyche is explored
at both ends. The violence and explicit language and his imagery (often using
the grimy jungle of the city as the symbolic backdrop) used at times is metaphoric
and calculated to express the concerns. Hypocrisy, passion, derangement, and
plight. Those are themes in Ellison’s work. You find the same thing in Henry
Miller, William Burroughs, D.H. Lawrence and Salinger. Shakespeare, at times,
used convulsive violence to convey imagery too (check out Titus Andronicus).
And David Mamet (Glengerry Glenross) uses profanity with cadence. The themes
are layered and you’ll discover a lot in such Ellison stories as ‘I Have No
Mouth and I Must Scream’, ‘Repent Harlequin, Said The TickTock Man’, ‘Off the
Islets of Langerhans’ and ‘Web of the City’. You read Ellison and you’ll think
and you'll react and you’ll learn. A LOT.
The integrity of some of these teachers is questionable - some are misguided
by their own biases, their own political philosophies. They will consequently
give very bad advice to people they’ve no right to advise. I had some pretty
crummy teachers throughout school myself. There’s a famous story about Ellison,
about back in his school days when some English teacher told him he had no talent!
No, don’t listen to this bozo. I began reading Ellison just before I started
high school, both his fiction and his fun, passionate, fiery columns in various
mags and compendiums. I wish you’d been subjected to some earlier TV as well,
because he did remarkable scripts for the original Outer Limits (Demon with
a Glass Hand and Solder) and Star Trek (City on the Edge of Forever). For me
those shows will never date (Outer Limits remains among the most intelligent
and eccentric series of all time), but if you see them they’ll look primitive
because of low budgets and no CGI effects. Try to cut pass that and LISTEN carefully
while you watch. Always look beneath the surface, unlike that would-be teacher
of yours. So grab that book from the library and a ton of Ellison books in the
stores or online as well. That guy really pisses me off.
I would just like to say to the WHOLE WORLD that my 11th grade English
teacher, (1st year teaching in fact) says Im too young to be reading anything
by Ellison. She says it will rot my brain, and make me a socially un-acceptable
person due to the random violent/sexual content. Tell me world: should I just
revert to a TV watching slug?
It was an unbleieveable coincidence that I even found his book 'Strange Wine'
in my school library. It was in the far back corner, crammed up and miss labeled.
How ironic.
If any of you had an opinion on what is more 'wholesome' for me, please feel
free to send it right to me. I would like to show that teacher of mine what
other people think. Thanks.
-C.Slater
Oh, there were trios before the Cole trio, but I, too, endorse that choice
(and check the mentor of all jazz pianists of the time, Art Tatum).
And if you love KIND OF BLUE, you really should check out George Russell's JAZZ
WORKSHOP or, if you prefer, NEW YORK, NEW YORK or JAZZ IN THE SPACE AGE; the
modal improvisation explored by the quintet in KOB was introduced to jazz in
recorded performance in the JAZZ WORKSHOP album. (Max Roach's JAZZ IN 3/4 TIME
was another milestone for encouraging exploration beyond 4/4...).
Darryl, your kids will probably love the Brubeck Quartet's TIME FURTHER
OUT: MIRO REFLECTIONS even more. I did, as a kid. Particularly at that time,
"Unsquare Dance." Brubeck will be performing an Easter concert program on some
NBC stations, check your local listings, as we say.
More jazz, fewer guns...
I have been n