Taylor Caldwell’s gods and Terry Pratchett’s elves

Taylor Caldwell and Terry Pratchett wrote very different types of books, but they both touched on the subject of humans as playthings of evil and sadistic supernatural beings.

They describe one aspect of this phenomenon in much the same way, although they use different words and blame different paranormal entities.

From Taylor Caldwell’s Romance of Atlantis:

“...the gods amuse themselves by tormenting us. They fire us with thirst, then give us stagnant water with which to quench that thirst. They endow the sensitive with majestic desires, with yearnings for beauty, with radiant spirits with which they might enjoy glorious things, and then let these unhappy wretches eat out their hearts in unsatisfied longings.“

Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novel Lords and Ladies contains some warnings about elves. I quoted him in an article about energy vampires. Here is a relevant extract:  

“All they can give is gold that melts away in the morning. They make us want what we can't have, and what they give us is worth nothing and what they take is everything and all that is left for us is the cold hillside and emptiness and the laughter of the elves.”

Being tormented by unsatisfied longings, being made to want what they can’t have and being left empty and desolate happens to people in this world too. What the two authors say above will seem spot on to them, a perfect description of what happened to them and how they feel about it.

Taylor Caldwell’s Atlantean gods, who sound more like demons to me, can’t be blamed for this misery in our world, nor can Terry Pratchet’s malevolent Discworld elves.

Is this suffering just a part of life for certain types of people, divine discontent and all that, or are sinister unseen influences at work in our world too?

103 years of John Buchan’s Greenmantle

Last year was the 103rd anniversary of the publication of John Buchan’s Thirty-Nine Steps; 2019 is the 103rd anniversary of the first appearance of the sequel, the classic spy thriller Greenmantle.

This book was written partly as propaganda and in the hope that it would help to bring America into the First World War.

The first instalment of this exciting adventure story with a wonderful title and a ‘man with a mission on the run in enemy territory’ scenario appeared in the magazine Land and Water in July 1916, and the entire story was published in book form later that year.

Greenmantle was a great success. It is still very popular, all the more because of current events in the Middle East. However, a radio dramatisation was dropped from the BBC’s schedule in 2005 for containing ‘unsuitable and sensitive material’.

Greenmantle is my favourite John Buchan book. It is an old friend. I have already mentioned it briefly in an article about Robert. A. Heinlein’s Citizen of the Galaxy, and I covered the spying aspect in articles about energy vampires and John Buchan's fellow author of exciting adventure stories, Rafael Sabatini.

The best of Greenmantle

It is difficult to think of anything more or something new and original to say about this enthralling story with its excitement, adventure, danger and double dealing.

Greenmantle has much to offer its readers. It has educational background information; it has moving scenes and amusing scenes, and there is some material that has a wider application.

A few words about some fictional elves and ghosts

There are a few similarities between the elves in Terry Pratchett’s Discworld books and the ghosts in fantasy writer Jonathan Stroud’s wonderful Lockwood & Co. series.

Terry Pratchett’s elves have no redeeming qualities; they are vicious, cruel, malevolent and dangerous to humans. I have quoted some of the things that he says about them in an article featuring energy vampires .

Jonathan Stroud says similar things about his ghosts. They are malevolent and dangerous to the living. There is nothing good to say about them.

Terry Pratchett’s elves enter the world through gaps in the defences, through what could be described as weak points in the barrier between Fairyland and the Discworld; the ghosts too enter via windows or portals, spots where the barrier between this world and the next has grown thin.

Both the elves and the ghosts cause their victims to experience terrible feelings; they may even lose the will to live.

It takes the Discworld witches to deal successfully with the elves; in the alternative London of the Lockwood series, only children and teenagers with certain psychic talents are able to detect, deal with and destroy the ghosts.

Something about Project Gutenberg

Many articles on here say that a particular book is available on Project Gutenberg. This post contains some basic information that someone who is unfamiliar with the enterprise may find useful. 

Project Gutenberg websites host thousands of free-to-read books that are in the public domain. Their copyrights have expired. They can be read online in various languages, formats and editions. Books can even be downloaded from the digital library.

There is a lot of general information about Project Gutenberg in Wikipedia and on the Project websites themselves. It is best for interested people to go direct to the sources and look at the rules, the catalogues and the search and other options, but I want to say a few things about my experiences of using this wonderful resource. 

I prefer paper books, preferably with the original illustrations, but have little space for a library of my own. Project Gutenberg is an ideal place to find the classics, some old friends and books whose printed versions are very expensive or unavailable. Some of the eBooks even have illustrations.

I may want to refer to certain books from time to time; going to Project Gutenberg saves me from having to keep getting them from the public library or storing my own copies. It is often much easier to search the digital copies for remembered topics or phrases than it is to try to find something in a printed book.

Strindberg’s string of misfortunes: Part I

The Swedish playwright and essayist August Strindberg endured much bad luck and a long string of misfortunes, some serious, in 1896. Everything went wrong; his life became one long nightmare. It was as if he had been cursed. There were some strange events and uncanny coincidences in the case too.

I first learned about this episode in Strindberg’s life from The Occult by Colin Wilson, who got his information from Strindberg’s autobiographical novel Inferno. This bizarre book, which can be found on Project Gutenberg, is based on the diary that Strindberg kept at the time. 

Strindberg believed that he had brought all his troubles on himself and attracted evil influences into his life by deliberately using his special powers in an attempt to practise psychological black magic.

There is much material of interest and some familiar features in this case. It will take more than one article to summarise even the most relevant and significant details of the nightmare episode, provide a commentary and make some connections.

We begin with some information about when and why the trouble started.

An obvious starting point

As described in many articles, there have been occasions in my life when, after going for days, weeks, months, even years without anything unusual to report, I suddenly experience a string of minor misfortunes. There is an obvious starting point to the incidents; they stand out in comparison with the preceding uneventful days.

It seems to me very significant that Strindberg was going through a good patch in his life just before it all went wrong. In his own words:

“The summer and autumn of the year 1895 I count, on the whole, among the happiest stages of my eventful life. All my attempts succeed; unknown friends bring me food as the ravens did to Elijah. Money flows in; I can buy books and scientific instruments...”

Then he did something that caused it all to go into reverse. There is an obvious starting point to his misfortunes, which stand out in comparison with his prior easy existence.

Stella Benson and the sponging Russian count

Stella Benson’s life and works are inspiring many articles, and still the end is nowhere near in sight.

This article is about her involvement with a sponging expatriate Russian count; it involves a familiar personality type and associated scripted scenario.

Stella Benson generously helped this poor old man and made great efforts on his behalf, only to be met with insults, lies, delusions and ingratitude followed by yet more demands and hard-luck stories.

Stella Benson meets Count Nicolas

Stella Benson first met the frail, pathetic, penniless old man who called himself Count Nicolas de Toulouse Lautrec De Savine in April 1931. He was in a free bed in a charity hospital in Hong Kong at the time.

She felt very sorry for him even though he immediately started lying to her. He may have been confused and delusional rather that deliberately deceitful though. He told her that he had no money at all, then some fell out of his pocket. He showed her a picture of someone he said was a princess who had been crazy about him - it was an advertisement!

Stella Benson helps Count Nicolas

Count Nicolas was a mess of a person. Stella saw him as a free spirit broken by adversity. She decided to transcribe some of his ‘memoirs’ in the hope of selling them and getting some money for him.

She started to produce a book that consisted of both his reminiscences - or fantasies - and her commentaries on them. It was later published as Pull Devil, Pull Baker (1933). She gave him a very generous advance payment, but after Count Nicolas moved on he started sending her very frequent begging letters.

Then he appeared on her doorstep, ill and destitute. She gave the ‘silly old cadger’ some more money.

Today is Anthony Hope’s birthday

The novelist and playwright who wrote under the name Anthony Hope was born on this day, February 9th, in 1863.

Anthony Hope is the main founder of the Ruritanian romance genre; his best-known book is The Prisoner of Zenda (1894).

Taking a short break from Stella Benson and Living Alone to refresh my memory and produce something to mark the occasion has been a great relief. Unlike the Stella Benson material, The Prisoner of Zenda and its sequel Rupert of Hentzau have no disturbing associations; they don’t stir up painful and depressing memories or give rise to horrible ideas.

On the other hand, the Zenda stories don’t contain the sort of material that generates investigations and commentary; they have no witches or magic in them, although they are fantasy of a kind.

The basic biographical information available, most of which can be found in Anthony Hope’s Wiki entry, is not very relevant either.

Sir Anthony Hope Hawkins was an English gentleman. He and his swashbuckling adventure stories have some similarities with John Buchan and his works. Both men had brief legal careers before they started writing for example.