#oneaday Day 454: The Black Crochan

I mentioned a while back that I'd started reading The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander, the series of novels that the Disney movie The Black Cauldron was loosely based on — and which, in turn, the Sierra adventure game The Black Cauldron (my first encounter with the series) was even more loosely based on.

The other night, I finished reading the second book in the series. Much like the best-known book in the Chronicles of Narnia series is the second one (The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe), so too, it seems, is the case for The Chronicles of Prydain. Because the second book in the series is the one called The Black Cauldron. But if you're only familiar with the Disney movie or the Sierra game, it's around here that things diverge a bit more wildly.

Y'see, in the Disney movie, the Big Bad of the piece was the Horned King. And he was terrifying. He was terrifying in the 160×200 chunky pixel graphics of the Sierra game and, while I haven't watched the Disney movie yet (though I did acquire it on DVD recently) I am given to understand that he is even more frightening in fully animated form.

But in the actual books — spoiler, I guess, though I'm not apologising for it, given that we're talking about a series from the mid-1960s — The Horned King is offed rather unceremoniously at the end of the first book, The Book of Three, and this is well before protagonist Taran and his buddies have come anywhere even vaguely close to the Black Cauldron itself. As the name suggests, it's not until the second book, The Black Cauldron, that Taran and company set off on a quest to deal with the infernal thing once and for all, and the whole situation is resolved rather differently to how things happen in the movie — and in the game, which is different again.

To be clear, I don't mind these differences at all. If anything, it makes experiencing The Black Cauldron in all its different forms all the more worthwhile. It makes sense for the movie to have a more self-contained story with fewer characters — and for the game to be even more limited in scope. The book has no such constraints, meanwhile, and as such there's a much stronger feeling of "fantasy epic" to the whole thing.

Thus far I've found the whole thing to strike an excellent balance between readability and not treating the reader like a moron. Lloyd Alexander respects the intelligence of his readers, but he doesn't overwhelm them with difficult prose, over-elaborate descriptions or pretentious language. Instead, we get a clear story with some well-crafted characters and some genuine stakes to the action.

I particularly want to highlight his character work. While many of the characters in the series are relatively simplistic — Taran in particular is clearly intended for the young male reader to project himself onto — there are some definite standouts. As mentioned in my previous piece on The Book of Three, I am thoroughly enamoured with the Princess Eilonwy, who takes her place alongside Ce'Nedra from David Eddings' The Belgariad/Malloreon and Lady Mandragorina from Douglas Hill's Talents series as one of my favourite spunky, sassy princesses. She might even be my favourite to date. The girl's got bite, but she also knows when to switch it off and be supportive. Since she and Taran are clearly going to end up together, I'll preemptively say that he's a lucky man.

Anyway, I'm yet to start the third volume of the series — I'll likely kick that off once we're on holiday — but I've been really enjoying it so far. Looking forward to reading the rest, for sure — and, as I've previously said, very sorry and frustrated with myself that I've never read it prior to today!

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#oneaday Day 442: Munchings and crunchings

After listening to Danny from Game Grumps play Sierra's The Black Cauldron game while falling asleep the other evening, I decided that it was high time to do something I've been meaning to do for… probably several decades at this point, which is to actually read Lloyd Alexander's The Chronicles of Prydain, the books The Black Cauldron is based on. (I've still never seen the Disney movie either, for that matter, but I did collect several of the plastic figures you got free in boxes of Corn Flakes back in the day! The Horned King made a great Chaos Sorcerer for Advanced Heroquest.)

Thus far I'm about 75% through The Book of Three, the first in the series, and I am really enjoying it. Really enjoying it. Like, "wish I'd read this much earlier in my life" enjoying it. I'm finding it kind of fascinating quite how differently it is unfolding from The Black Cauldron game — which I'm sure was partly out of technological limitations necessitating a simpler narrative, and partly out of the Disney movie almost certainly diverging from the source material somewhat — but yeah. Really enjoying it.

As someone with a major soft spot for spunky princess characters (see: Mandra from Blade of the Poisoner, Ce'Nedra from The Belgariad/The Malloreon) I am absolutely a thousand per cent in love with Eilonwy, who has some of the most formidable sass I think I've ever seen committed to paper. The fact that she consistently delivers some truly wonderful withering lines at the expense of our protagonist, Taran, while being incredibly well-spoken the whole time is just… ah, man. I live for it. Absolutely live for it.

But anyway, it's entirely possible that you, dear reader, are unfamiliar with either The Black Cauldron of The Chronicles of Prydain in general, so here's the gist.

We join the story in Caer Dallben, a peaceful little farm seemingly in the middle of nowhere, where nothing ever happens — but with a slight air of mystery around it due to the fact its master is a man of nearly four hundred years in age who is in possession of a magical tome known as The Book of Three.

Taran, an orphan boy on the cusp on manhood who helps out around Caer Dallben, is discontent with this simple life, and wishes to know more of the world. After successfully being granted the rank of Assistant Pig-Keeper to the oracular pig Hen Wen — and after having burnt his fingers attempting to consult the magical Book of Three against Dallben's wishes — finds himself forced to set out on a journey when the aforementioned Hen Wen escapes following some grim omens.

The Book of Three follows Taran's journey to track down Hen Wen, during which he encounters several thoroughly interesting companions — including the warrior-prince Gwydion, the subservient and obsequious man-beast Gurgi, the bard-king Fflewdur Fflam and the aforementioned Eilonwy — and learns a lot more of the peril facing the world. The setting's great evil is positioned as Arawn, lord of the lands of the dead, but the more immediate threat is the Horned King, a frightening figure who roams the land in search of conquest — and, it seems, Hen Wen.

For context, The Black Cauldron game has none of this — at least, not in the exact same form. The game opens with Taran feeding Hen Wen, then her having a vision of the Horned King, then Taran being tasked with taking her to a safe haven with the Fair Folk to keep her safe from harm. Along the way, he encounters several of the characters introduced in The Book of Three, but in somewhat different contexts. This doesn't make the game a bad adaptation — as I say, for all I know, it's entirely possible that the Disney movie also played this fast and loose with the narrative, since I haven't seen it — but it is interesting to have all this additional context.

So anyway, yes. I am really enjoying The Chronicles of Prydain so far, and I will be moving straigh on to the other four books in the series once I've finished The Book of Three. Which will be pretty soon at the rate I'm going!

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#oneaday Day 437: Reflecting on the Talents duology

The other night, I finished reading through Master of Fiends, Douglas Hill's sequel to Blade of the Poisoner. This is a book I've read fewer times than Blade of the Poisoner, since I didn't have my own copy of it growing up, but I remember liking it nonetheless.

Taken as a pair, Blade of the Poisoner and Master of Fiends make for some entertaining, uncomplicated and undemanding fantasy that I am pleased to report was almost as enjoyable today as it was when I was a kid. The breezy young adult-level writing makes the whole thing remarkably quick to zip through — particularly as both volumes are quite short in and of themselves — but it doesn't feel especially "dumbed down" or "childish". There's a good, dramatic tone to the narration — towards the end of Master of Fiends I found myself internally voicing the narrator as the late Tony Jay, which added immeasurably to the experience and makes me sad we'll never hear him do an audiobook reading of these — and the characters, although straightforward and somewhat archetypal, are all likable.

I realise in my past musings on these books, I haven't really talked about the details of their narratives. So here we go, then.

In Blade of the Poisoner, we're introduced to our protagonist: 12 year old Jarral, who is out hunting in the Wellwood, when he comes into contact with a veritable giantess of a woman named Archer that he has, over the years, struck up something of a friendship with. Before long, Jarral discovers that his village has been destroyed by Prince Mephtik, better known as the Poisoner, and he flees the Wellwood with Archer — or at least attempts to, though before long he and his gigantic companion are captured by Mephtik and his monstrous spiders.

During their captivity, Mephtik opts to use his "favourite toy", a magic sword known as the Tainted Blade. It is said that a single scratch from this sword is fatal, with the recipient of the wound dropping dead (or, more accurately, pretty much magically burning to death) when the moon next turns full. It is nearly a full month before the moon is next full, and Mephtik makes it clear that he intends for Jarral to be in his captivity when the time comes, so he can watch the young boy die.

He doesn't get the chance, though, because before long two more of our central heroes enter the picture after being sent to the Wellwood by the mysterious wizard Cryltaur Tabbetang (Cryl to his friends): the blind warrior Scythe, and the fifteen year old Lady Mandragorina, or Mandra for short. Between them — and through judicious use of their mental powers known as Talents, which Cryl trained them in — they manage to free Jarral and Archer, escaping from the Wellwood and getting well clear of Mephtik and his beasts before they can pursue.

There is, of course, a problem that remains, which is that Jarral has been marked by the Tainted Blade, and will thus die in a month's time unless both the Blade and its wielder are destroyed. That sure sounds like an epic quest to me! And, sure enough, things unfold pretty much as you expect — though at kind of a breakneck pace compared to some other works of fantasy fiction.

There's not a lot of getting bogged down in the details of travelling, Hobbit songs or whatever; it's remarkably soon that the party finds themselves looking upon the city of Xicanti, where Mephtik has his stronghold, and a few chapters after that where, between them, they have defeated Mephtik in a thematically appropriate manner, defeated a Greater Demon using the Tainted Blade — which, conveniently, destroyed it in the process — and decided that rather than going home to celebrate, it would probably be a good idea to go after the world's Big Bad, a "thou shalt not speak his name" evil sorcerer known variously as the Demon-Driver or, you guessed it, the Master of Fiends, particularly as said Big Bad has kidnapped Cryl and promises to keep him alive for an "eternity of torment" or some such equivalent gesture.

Master of Fiends picks up almost immediately after Blade of the Poisoner after the party's second journey is underway. All of them are still present, including Jarral, who, during the climactic battles of Blade of the Poisoner, discovered he had the extremely rare Talent of being able to summon the powerful forces of nature that are Elementals: one of the few Talents that can stand up to honest-to-goodness demons, because demons are weakened and even paralysed with fear in the sheer presence of an Elemental. However, Jarral, being just twelve years old and having had no training in his Talent, is not entirely able to control his ability to everyone's complete satisfaction, so part of the running theme of Master of Fiends is Jarral quickly having to grow up and figure things out under, at times, extreme duress.

Throughout both books, Jarral is very obviously the teenage reader's wish-fulfilment character. Despite being unremarkable and inept, he has The Most Powerful Thing, and he's also the centre of the universe so far as the narrative of Blade of the Poisoner is concerned. As a young reader, I remember feeling like I was supposed to almost "inhabit" the role of Jarral, particularly when it came to his growing feelings towards Mandra — feelings that, I would note, are shot down in flames at the end of Master of Fiends due to the age gap between the pair of them, but with a whiff of hope that when they're both "grown up" something might be able to happen between them, maybe, possibly. I recall feeling a bit put out at that part of the ending when I was younger, but looking at it now, it does make a certain amount of sense, and means that none of us had to sit through any particularly awkward pre-pubescent romance scenes.

One could probably pick many faults with both Blade of the Poisoner and Master of Fiends. We don't learn much — if anything — about the background of any of the characters, for one thing, though I actually found this didn't really matter all that much in the grand scheme of things. The most backstory we get is when Scythe is introduced early in Blade of the Poisoner, and we discover he's been making his living using his ability to "see without sight" (and his formidable weapon-handling skills that come with it) to act as a juggler. We learn nothing about Archer, including why she is regarded as a "giantess"; similarly, we don't learn all that much about Mandra, either, just that she is from a noble background, unlike the others.

It might have been nice to learn a bit more about all the characters — particularly in an epilogue, as Master of Fiends does feel like it ends rather abruptly — but, as I say, these two books weren't really trying to be the next Lord of the Rings. They were just trying to tell an interesting, exciting and accessible story for young adults, and the many holes one can pick in their respective narratives and the overall settings don't get in the way of them achieving that goal. I came away from rereading both feeling vindicated at my longstanding fond memories of them both, and glad that I had taken the time (very little time, as it happened) to reread them as an adult.

So while they're not classics of great literature or anything, nor are they in any way the most amazing pieces of fantasy fiction you'll ever read, they were both perfectly enjoyable — and probably a good introduction to the genre for younger readers who are up to handling the more "horrifying" aspects of both narratives. Perhaps a fun exercise sometime could be to imagine what happened next for these characters, since sadly Hill, having passed away in 2007, is no longer around to do it for us.

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#oneaday Day 430: Poisonous fantasy

So I picked up Blade of the Poisoner last night, as offensive as the Kindle version's cover is to me, and started to read it. As predicted, it is pleasantly easy to read, and the fact that each chapter is less than five minutes "long" at the speed I read means that I suspect I'm probably going to power right through this in short order. As noted yesterday, though, that's no bad thing; sometimes it's nice just to read something that stimulates the imagination a bit without challenging the more "technical" parts of your brain too much.

I'm actually surprised how much of Blade of the Poisoner I'm remembering — and I don't necessarily mean the details of the story, I mean certain little turns of phrase that have, for one reason or another, stuck in my mind for many years, even without having touched this book for probably several decades at this point. There were a few in the first chapter alone: protagonist Jarral's hesitant question "Can we go and … look at the village?" after his village has been burned to the ground by the evil Prince Mephtik, and the description of the character Archer falling to the ground, "sudden blood staining her brown curls" after being lamped over the head with the butt of a crossbow. Neither of these are particularly remarkable pieces of writing, but they are, for some reason, apparently lodged in my long-term memory, and I'm sure they won't be the only ones.

Thinking about it, despite a longstanding interest in and appreciation for the genre, one thing I don't think I've ever really tried my hand at writing myself is straight-up fantasy. I've done sci-fi, I've done "real world with fantastical elements", I've done "gritty realism", but one thing I don't think I've ever done is create-your-own-world-with-its-own-rules fantasy. And, dipping into Blade of the Poisoner for the first time in a long while last night, I feel like that's something which might be fun. I'm still yet to do anything with my "Scratch Pad" creative writing site that I've set up, largely because I haven't really been struck with any sort of "inspiration" just yet. But I think this might be it: it might be time for me to have a go at fantasy, and see what happens.

Fantasy is interesting because it has a whole different set of considerations to other types of writing. By its very nature, you don't have to follow the "rules" of reality, but you are then faced with the challenge of ensuring your world is internally consistent. How does magic work, if it is present at all? What species call that world home, and how are you going to ensure none of them accidentally end up as thinly veiled racial stereotypes? What social structures are in place? How do you strike a balance between giving the baddies threatening-sounding names and ensuring they don't end up sounding like medical terminology? Is there any connection between that world and ours? Is that world an "alternate Earth", or is it a completely different planet, perhaps with its own rules?

Lots of things to consider, and establishing a setting in this way can, at times, be a really fun part of writing. It is also an easy part to get very bogged down in, so one has to find a good balance between making notes on things that are important to the story you want to tell and the setting in which you want to convey that story, and not getting carried away writing what effectively amounts to a Dungeons and Dragons sourcebook. Of course, there's also a certain amount of value in fleshing out your setting to a ridiculous degree, because that can lay the foundations for future stories you might want to tell in that setting, but one shouldn't lose sight of one's main goal. As with any type of creative project, particularly if one hasn't indulged in such things for a while, it pays to start small and see where things go from there.

So yes. I am thinking. Hard. I can't promise if and when anything will appear over on the Scratch Pad, but I'll be sure to link it here when something does. And in the meantime, perhaps just a chapter or two more of Blade of the Poisoner, you know, as inspiration…

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#oneaday Day 167: What happened to plain ol' fantasy?

This is a discussion I've had a few times on Discord of late, but I don't think I've mentioned it here. So, being in need of something to write for today, I thought I'd ponder it here.

I grew up being rather fond of fantasy — you know, swords, magic, elves, goblins, that sort of thing. I attribute this primarily to my brother's girlfriend of his teenage years introducing me to HeroQuest and the Elric of Melnibone role-playing game; I never played the latter but I did play a fair few sessions of the former, and even managed to convince my parents to get me Advanced Heroquest by Games Workshop for one birthday, which I think has successfully hit the table maybe two or three times in my entire life. (Lucky it has solid solo rules!)

Similarly, one (well, two, technically, I guess) of my favourite book series growing up was David Eddings' Belgariad/Malloreon cycle, which chronicles the rise of young farm boy Garion into a god-slaying hero and powerful sorcerer. Also of note was Douglas Hill's Blade of the Poisoner and its sequel Master of Fiends, both of which were really for kids, but which I enjoyed and re-read numerous times in my youth.

What do all the above have in common? They're all simple, straightforward, old-fashioned fantasy. I add those qualifiers because I feel we don't get a lot of simple, straightforward, old-fashioned fantasy any more. We get a shitload of "dark fantasy", sure, and we also get a lot of "ironic parody fantasy". But just straightforward, simple fantasy? That feels like a dying breed.

To clarify what I mean by these terms: by "dark fantasy" I mean a world where everyone is either miserable or fucking (often simultaneously), the streets are made of mud and the dwarves say "fuck" a lot. By "ironic parody fantasy" I mean "teeheehee, the heroes of this fantasy world know what a 'level' is and talk like they're in a Marvel movie!".

Both of these have their appeal — they must do, otherwise there wouldn't be so fucking many of both of them — but I feel we've reached a point where "subverting the expectations of the fantasy genre" is now more of a cliché than… the fantasy genre itself. I hunger for a good old-fashioned tale of swords and sorcery where no-one says "well, that happened" or "fuck", and which culminates in the plucky young hero, who came from humble beginnings, punching out some sort of god-like entity.

It doesn't even feel like we get this in video games much any more. Final Fantasy has very much gone down the "dark fantasy" route in more recent installments and I think that has been a positive move for the series — Final Fantasy XVI and Stranger of Paradise: Final Fantasy Origin are particular highlights from recent memory — and a lot of anime-style RPGs play up the comedic angle somewhat. There's nothing wrong with either of these things — I enjoy both when I'm in the mood for them — but sometimes you just want something a bit more… straightforward, I guess?

I'm intrigued to try out Metaphor: ReFantazio at some indefinite point in the future, though I suspect that veers towards "dark fantasy", and I have several dungeon crawlers waiting in the wings that might fit the bill.

I'm not mad about this or anything — trends and tastes change, after all — but I just think it might be nice if we could see a bit more in the way of old-school barbarians-in-loincloths-and-wizards-with-beards fantasy. It was a defining influence on me growing up, and it would be nice to revisit that.

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2280: Three Wishes

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For a man of my age, I probably give the whole question of "what would you wish for if you got three wishes?" rather more time and attention in my head than it deserves, what with it being something (probably) impossible, but it's something to keep my mind occupied with when I'm trying and failing to fall asleep.

I've had numerous possible answers over the years — never resorting to "I wish I had three more wishes", I might add — but right now, at a particularly shitty point in my life, I find myself settled on three pretty-much definite answers.

1. I wish my wife and I would be in 100% perfect health, mentally and physically. I've struggled with mental health for more years than I was probably aware of it, and it hasn't gotten any easier over the years. In fact, as I get older, it's got more and more difficult, particularly since several attempts to get a career started have gone nowhere — often through no fault of my own, as in the case of my misadventures in games journalism — and left me feeling increasingly useless and worthless to the world at large with each passing year.
Alongside that, my wife has been struggling with a chronic pain condition that I'm always forgetting the name of for well over a year now, and it's taking its toll on both of us. She's been off work for several months now, and the pain has had a severe effect on both her mental health and, by extension, since I'm unable to offer any sort of help besides just being here when I can, my own as well.

If we were both 100% perfectly healthy mentally and physically, we could get on with enjoying our lives the way we both want to. Life wouldn't feel like a constantly uphill struggle which, frankly, it does at the moment.
2. I wish I had a million pounds. It may be a cliche to wish for a large amount of money, but if I had a large amount of money, it would remove the other main stressor in my life that is at least partly related to our physical and mental health issues: money worries. I don't even want to buy anything particularly extravagant with my hypothetical fortune; I'd simply pay off my debts, quit my job and continue living the way I do at the moment, pursuing my own passion projects in my own time without having to worry about where the money to pay the next bills and the mortgage is going to come from. The rest of the money would simply go towards day-to-day expenses and perhaps a few guilt-free treats.
3. I wish I had the ability to switch between being a man and a woman at will. This one is less grounded in my actual real-life everyday existence right now, since having the ability to do this wouldn't make my current situation any better, but it's something that I've always returned to when pondering this question, and a concept in general that I've always found fascinating from the perspective of walking in "someone else's" shoes. I won't lie, part of my curiosity in this regard is sexual in nature — I mean, come on — but also I feel it would just be interesting to be able to switch between two completely different bodies and appearances at will, making use of the most "appropriate" one for various situations, whatever that might mean.

So there's my three wishes. If any Internet-connected genies are watching, I will happily accept just the first two if you're running a bit short on mystic mojo.

One A Day, Day 21: Fantasy Feedback

So, that was the weekend. It went by far too quickly for my liking, but at least it was calm, relaxing and completely stress-free. If only things could be like that all the time, it would be lovely.

Of course, I haven't "achieved" very much this weekend (unless you count my promotion to Lieutenant Commander in Star Trek Online) but sometimes it's nice to not think about whether or not you should be doing something more important. There is plenty of time for stress in the week, because believe me, it always finds you.

I have one more week until the week-long half-term vacation from school. After that, it really is counting down the weeks and days until my escape. Once I get to that point, I will be past caring. If the school inspectors turn up to judge me inadequate during those last few weeks, they will get a piece of my mind.

They probably won't, of course, because I'm far too much of a pussy to stand up to people in most cases, but it's the thought that counts.

Or maybe I should say something. As I've said in a number of previous entries, teachers suffer in silence all the time. They nod and smile when another item is put on their personal "To-Do" lists without their permission, they grin and bear it when new "initiatives" are launched (and inevitably prove to be completely useless), they fill out their stupid pointless paperwork and then they go and moan in the staffroom. It's the way of things. But I find myself wondering exactly what would happen if someone were to break that barrier and answer back to an OfSTED inspector.

Maybe it might go something like this:

INSPECTOR: Would you like some feedback from that lesson?

TEACHER: No. No I wouldn't. Goodbye.

INSPECTOR: I really think you should have some feedback from that lesson.

TEACHER: I, on the other hand, do not. Don't let the door hit you in the arse on the way out.

INSPECTOR: Your starter was satisfactory and had the children enga-

TEACHER: Are you deaf as well as stupid? I said no.

INSPECTOR: …the children were engaged. However, during your input-

TEACHER: Oh, we're going to do this, are we? All right then. Input? It's called "teaching". Or even "talking". Have you forgotten?

INSPECTOR: During your input, I would have liked to see more being taught.

TEACHER: Oh. Sorry. There I was thinking I was singing a song. Not… what's that word for that thing I do when I'm standing at the front… Oh right, teaching.

INSPECTOR: However, there was a lot of you talking. It would have been nice to-

TEACHER: So I didn't teach enough, but I talked too much. Right. Do carry on. This is fascinating.

INSPECTOR: It would have been nice to see the children say a little more on the subject.

TEACHER: They don't know anything about the subject. That's why I said it was a "new topic". They seemed to understand that. Didn't you?

INSPECTOR: As a result, the children didn't make enough progress in that lesson.

TEACHER: Not enough progress? All right. How are you measuring that? Where is your magic "progress-o-meter" that measures how far the children progressed in the twenty minutes out of the hour you came and observed? I bet you have one. I bet it produces charts and graphs and syncs with Microsoft Excel, doesn't it? Mmmm, Excel. You love Excel, don't you? With its charts and its numbers and its ABJECT FUCKING TEDIUM. Just like you really.

INSPECTOR: So therefore, I am going to have to rate that lesson as inadequate.

TEACHER: Will it still be inadequate if I punch you in the neck?

INSPECTOR: What? Yes!

TEACHER: Well, it doesn't matter, then. (punches Inspector in the neck) This is my most inadequate punch, bitch! You wouldn't want to see my Outstanding one, or even my Good one!

Oh, what a wonderful experience that would be.

The sad thing about that fantasy exchange is that the things I quoted the Inspector as saying are the exact things they do say. Utter nonsense, non?