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Post by cromagnonman on May 25, 2020 1:45:31 GMT
[Pulp Fictions edition 1999: Cover art David Bezzina] For my money Sir Henry Rider Haggard remains the greatest adventure story writer of them all. Even ninety five years after his death his stature remains undiminished and the shadow it casts correspondingly vast. Like some literary Abraham multiple rivers of fiction can be traced back to him as their mutual source. ALLAN AND THE ICE GODS was written in the spring of 1922. It was developed in collaboration with Kipling, his eminent friend to whom Haggard was living in neighbourly proximity at the time: Kipling at Batemans in Burwash and Haggard at North Lodge, St Leonards where each was a frequent visitor upon the other. It was the last of Haggard's novels to feature his signature hero Allan Quatermain whom, in spite of the title, is actually a peripheral presence in the story. The real meat of the book concerns the trials and tribulations of a caveman called Wi, and the struggle for survival in the Paleolithic Era. Wi may or may not be a primordial pre-incarnation of Quatermain but the hunter is able to access his story via the hallucinogenic properties of an African herb called Taduki.
After overcoming the fearsome Henga in ritual combat Wi becomes the chief of his tribe, a people which have no name because they believe themselves to be the only inhabitants of the world and so have no need of one to distinguish themselves from others. Wi is a thoughtful humane character, reflective by nature and progressive by inclination, and the book details his efforts to introduce new ideas and new practices into the tribe's stagnant culture. One of the things I find most compelling about Haggard's writing is its timeless quality. There is never any hint of Victorian and Edwardian stuffiness to antiquate it. And although one might reasonably expect to find the author's powers flagging at this late stage of his career that is not the case at all. On the contrary the book fizzes with invention and even displays an appealing streak of unobtrusive humour: the tribe's accidental discovery of the pleasures of broiled fish with salt being a case in point. Haggard also makes intelligent use of the tribe's moribund culture to make sly allusions and commentary upon the society of his own time, particularly in regards to female emancipation, organized religion and the established church. But it would be wrong to assign too much emphasis to the sub-text. Haggard's books always deliver best with their surface thrills and this one has plenty of them from the attack of the marauding Red-beards to the havoc wrought by wolves and a tiger. Best of all is the one man and his dog battle Wi wages against a maddened aurochs. Haggard preferred to write his novels very quickly thereby - as he explained it - circumventing concious thought and tapping directly into the creative impulse. As a result he is often criticized for sacrificing character to narrative thrust. Personally I don't believe that to be fair or valid. I would argue that he preferred to concentrate creative effort into a small clutch of core characters rather than diluting it through an extended cast. I don't think anyone could claim that the characters in this book are under developed, least of all the cunning one-eyed dwarf Pag. Pag is an absolutely magnificent creation - one of Haggard's very best - shrewd, clever and cynical, and who is memorably described as "the first of the sceptics". It is Pag who makes Wi's magnificent axe from a lump of meteorite iron. ALLAN AND THE ICE GODS is a simply stupendous book: provocative in some ways, poignant in others; particularly in the matter of Wi's loveless marriage to Aaka and the loss of a child, each of which mirrors Haggard's own domestic situation. But most of all it constitutes a thrilling read. The magnificent penultimate chapter almost qualifies as a truncated epic in its own right. I suppose if one wished to be pernickity one could argue that there is at least one major instance of melodramatic convenience in the matter of a collapsing glacier but I expect most readers are so in Haggard's conceptual zone at that stage that it can pass by largely unremarked. The work of H Rider Haggard has been subjected to a lot of ignorant and misplaced opprobrium in recent decades due to post colonial angst and hand-wringing but there are currently encouraging signs that it is coming back into fashion and Haggard's monumental importance being properly acknowledged and recognised once again. Not before time in my view because he remains today what he always was: the very best there is.
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Post by helrunar on May 25, 2020 14:35:31 GMT
Excellent review Richard! I haven't read Allan and the Ice Gods, but I am definitely putting it on my seemingly endless list of things to read in future. I should really move it towards the front of the queue. I somehow thought She and Allan was written after this one, but my knowledge of the chronological order in which Haggard wrote his books is sketchy at best.
As a teen, She, Haggard's novel, was an iconic presence in my imaginative life. I just found it to be the epitome of cool at age 14 or however old I was when I first read it. And that tells you a lot about how out of step with my own times I was that a novel originally published in the 1880s was for me the epitome of cool. I definitely agree with you about the timeless quality of his writing. And in She, Holly (who is the narrator), Leo, Ustane and above all Ayesha herself are certainly vividly etched and realized characters, so I am surprised that Haggard has been accused of not creating believable, complex personalities in his stories.
By the way, none of the many (oh so very many) film versions of She came anywhere near to conveying the story Haggard told in the original book. The most interesting of the films to me is the 1935 version; Hammer's version is just as interesting in its way, but more a pop culture artifact of the mid Sixties with the presence of Ursula Andress, Peter Cushing, and John Richardson.
Fans of Alan Moore might be interested to know that a taduki trance is the jumping off point for Moore's pastiche on Haggard, Wells, Lovecraft et al, Allan and the Sundered Veil, a short novella published in installments in the original issues of The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.
cheers, Steve
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Post by andydecker on May 25, 2020 18:22:18 GMT
By the way, none of the many (oh so very many) film versions of She came anywhere near to conveying the story Haggard told in the original book. The most interesting of the films to me is the 1935 version; Hammer's version is just as interesting in its way, but more a pop culture artifact of the mid Sixties with the presence of Ursula Andress, Peter Cushing, and John Richardson. Fans of Alan Moore might be interested to know that a taduki trance is the jumping off point for Moore's pastiche on Haggard, Wells, Lovecraft et al, Allan and the Sundered Veil, a short novella published in installments in the original issues of The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.cheers, Steve The worst Haggard movie is the one with Richard Chamberlain, one of the few movies I walked out because something better came up. King Solomon's Mines is still one of the best adventure novels ever written. Haggard could be a great writer. His short novel The Mahatma and the Hare left a deep and lasting impression. Allan and the Sundered Veil I never could get into. In its first incarnation with its small print in the comic it was a chore to read, and I lacked the patience to read it with a magnifying glass. Years later I tried it again when it was done digital and still couldn't get into it.
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Post by helrunar on May 25, 2020 19:45:44 GMT
Andreas, you have once again intrigued me. I have never heard of The Mahatma and the Hare--I definitely need to look that one up!
I should read King Solomon's Mines. For whatever reason, I never felt interested enough to have a look at that book.
I don't think "Allan and the Sundered Veil" is very good except as a pastiche. He deliberately uses a number of words in the opening paragraphs that even most native speakers/readers of English don't know, or have only a vague sense of their meaning. After that it becomes a rollercoaster ride of how many references to how many classic works and icons of weird fantasy/adventure/crime sci fi fiction or art he can include--as he went on, there was increasingly no point to The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen beyond this sort of catalogue-aria effect.
I have the impression that Philip Jose Farmer did this sort of thing with a much defter sense of style... I did enjoy the earlier issues of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and the same with the earlier issues of Promethea. The latter really seemed to implode and deflate rapidly after the conclusion of the Tree of Life pathworking sequence, which was fascinating as a sort of occult geek fanfic.
Steve
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Post by andydecker on May 26, 2020 15:38:27 GMT
Andreas, you have once again intrigued me. I have never heard of The Mahatma and the Hare--I definitely need to look that one up! I did enjoy the earlier issues of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and the same with the earlier issues of Promethea. The latter really seemed to implode and deflate rapidly after the conclusion of the Tree of Life pathworking sequence, which was fascinating as a sort of occult geek fanfic. Steve Yeah, League became increasingly bizarr in the later parts, especially the Nemo Trilogy. But Heart of Ice has some great sequences if one is willing to overlook the Lovecraft angle. (It was done long before Providence, still.)
Prometha is still waiting for me. I gathered it need time to understand and to read with leisure and concentration.
The Mahatma and the Hare is weird one, some kind of animal fable. It has this strange and bitter discussion between a human hunter and its prey, the hare, in the after-life, which seemed to me at the time of reading 20 years ago strongly anti-hunt. I would have thought Haggard more Victorian in his views, but maybe I interpreted this wrong.
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Post by cromagnonman on May 26, 2020 16:55:46 GMT
Andreas, you have once again intrigued me. I have never heard of The Mahatma and the Hare--I definitely need to look that one up! I did enjoy the earlier issues of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and the same with the earlier issues of Promethea. The latter really seemed to implode and deflate rapidly after the conclusion of the Tree of Life pathworking sequence, which was fascinating as a sort of occult geek fanfic. Steve Yeah, League became increasingly bizarr in the later parts, especially the Nemo Trilogy. But Heart of Ice has some great sequences if one is willing to overlook the Lovecraft angle. (It was done long before Providence, still.)
Prometha is still waiting for me. I gathered it need time to understand and to read with leisure and concentration.
The Mahatma and the Hare is weird one, some kind of animal fable. It has this strange and bitter discussion between a human hunter and its prey, the hare, in the after-life, which seemed to me at the time of reading 20 years ago strongly anti-hunt. I would have thought Haggard more Victorian in his views, but maybe I interpreted this wrong. No, you construed Haggard's views quite correctly Andy. He was an enthusiastic shooter and huntsman as a young man but an odd experience contrived to profoundly alter his views upon the subject. Its detailed in Haining's THE BEST SHORT STORIES OF RIDER HAGGARD [Michael Joseph 1981]. Apparantly in 1904 HRH had a nightmare in which his daughter's dog communicated to him the fact that it was dying. It was subsequently discovered that this experience was almost concurrent with the dog being struck by a train. According to the letter to The Times which he felt compelled to write upon the matter the experience served to suggest to him "a more intimate ghostly connection between all members of the animal world, including man, than has hitherto been believed, at any rate by Western peoples." It was sufficent to persuade him to give up hunting and, as I recall, Allan Quatermain developed a similar distaste for it also. Incidentally "The Mahatma and the Hare" is another one of those stories that HRH developed in consultation with Kipling.
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Post by andydecker on May 26, 2020 18:08:02 GMT
Interesting info, thanks! I just pulled Allan Quatermain from the shelves and browsed a bit. Maybe it is just my mood, but the prologue where a persumbly dying Quatermain mourns his dead son reads more authentic and heartfelt than a lot of contemporary novels. I never read about Haggard's life, know nothing about him. Same goes for Kipling. I think I remember a few basic bits, worked in India and so on, and of course that he is seen as an important national writer - or at least he was, I could imagine his work is seen different today -, but never read a line by him. One of the gaps in my literary education.
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Post by Shrink Proof on May 26, 2020 18:10:50 GMT
I should read King Solomon's Mines. For whatever reason, I never felt interested enough to have a look at that book. Steve Pretty much my view to the letter. I probably won't be chasing this one up as Allan & The Ice Gods sounds too much like a one-hit wonder freakbeat band from Stockport for my liking....
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Post by Jojo Lapin X on May 26, 2020 18:25:32 GMT
Haggard is great. Try THE PEOPLE OF THE MIST.
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Post by cromagnonman on May 26, 2020 19:22:50 GMT
Interesting info, thanks! I just pulled Allan Quatermain from the shelves and browsed a bit. Maybe it is just my mood, but the prologue where a persumbly dying Quatermain mourns his dead son reads more authentic and heartfelt than a lot of contemporary novels. I never read about Haggard's life, know nothing about him. Same goes for Kipling. I think I remember a few basic bits, worked in India and so on, and of course that he is seen as an important national writer - or at least he was, I could imagine his work is seen different today -, but never read a line by him. One of the gaps in my literary education.
Haggard did know the grief of losing a son (to measles I think) but strangely that was not until four years after ALLAN QUATERMAIN was published.
Kipling suffers from an image problem these days (as does Haggard unfortunately). Critics with an agenda have propagated the image of each as an insufferable mouthpiece for oppressive colonialism. The problem with critics with agendas is that they rarely bother to trouble themselves actually reading the subject of their scorn and thus indulge in the sort of lazy stereotyping based on popular perception that they would otherwise decry. One of the Oxbridge colleges recently saw a student revolt after one of the lecturers innocently tried to invoke "If" as an incentive to scholarly aspiration and achievement. The student firebrands had no problem with the sentiment of the poem only with the fact that the evil imperialist Kipling had written it. The message this conveys that artistic expression is only sacrosanct so long as the creator passes your own political-ethical scrutiny is presumably not the one the reactionaries intended to convey. But it does demonstrate how blinkered the earnest can be.
Kipling's star certainly does not shine so bright as once it did but he has not stopped being read and on account of the children's books never will be. Personally I find the post WW1 work, written in the aftermath of the loss of his own son, too opaque for my taste. He seemed to develop a relish for allegory to the extent of neglecting the foremost aim of a storyteller which is to entertain. But I will always return to the pre WW1 work which was written under a sunnier disposition. There is clear evidence there of genius at work.
Should you ever develop the urge to read him I would recommend PLAIN TALES FROM THE HILLS. The tales are short with their length dictated by the space available in the Indian newspaper he worked on to accomodate them. Oscar Wilde described it as seeing slices of native life by flashes of lightning - or something to that effect anyway.
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Post by helrunar on May 26, 2020 19:41:39 GMT
Richard, your comments about Kipling--which are very interesting--remind me of a conversation I had with one of my students a few years ago. When he started with me, he was doing a graduate degree at a very prestigious institution located quite near where I live. The topic of Margaret Murray, another author endlessly abominated in certain academic circles for the last quarter century or so, came up. I told him I thought that in the interests of making up his own mind, he ought to read her most celebrated work, The Witch-cult in Western Europe--I mentioned that I thought there were some interesting things to consider in the book. He rolled his eyes and said, "Oh, nobody reads actual texts nowadays. We only read commentaries." It was one of those revelatory moments.
Now that he has graduated, he has actually started "reading texts" and finds he likes it much better. Actual research and discussion as opposed to endlessly repeated platitudes rolling round the giant ideological echo chamber.
Steve
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Post by Dr Strange on May 26, 2020 20:29:26 GMT
I've never read any Kipling, apart from the odd anthologized short story like The Mark of the Beast, but John Huston's The Man Who Would Be King (1975) is a long-time favourite film of mine. I've no idea how close or not the film is to the original Kipling story, but it's hard to see how that film could ever have come from a story that wasn't at some level a criticism of colonialism. I think the only thing by Haggard I've ever read is The World's Desire, and that's only because I found an old battered copy of the US Ballantine Adult Fantasy paperback at work 30-something years ago. I probably wouldn't have bothered to give it a go if it wasn't for the trippy cover ( this one) and it saying "Introduction by Lin Carter" on the front. I remember absolutely nothing about it now, other than that it had something to do with Homer's Odyssey. It was around the same time I read Crowley's Diary of a Drug Fiend and Moonchild, which probably says quite a lot about where my head was at back then.
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Post by cromagnonman on May 26, 2020 22:14:33 GMT
Richard, your comments about Kipling--which are very interesting--remind me of a conversation I had with one of my students a few years ago. When he started with me, he was doing a graduate degree at a very prestigious institution located quite near where I live. The topic of Margaret Murray, another author endlessly abominated in certain academic circles for the last quarter century or so, came up. I told him I thought that in the interests of making up his own mind, he ought to read her most celebrated work, The Witch-cult in Western Europe--I mentioned that I thought there were some interesting things to consider in the book. He rolled his eyes and said, "Oh, nobody reads actual texts nowadays. We only read commentaries." It was one of those revelatory moments. Now that he has graduated, he has actually started "reading texts" and finds he likes it much better. Actual research and discussion as opposed to endlessly repeated platitudes rolling round the giant ideological echo chamber. Steve Steve, that is a profoundly depressing story to hear but it certainly does explain a lot.
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Post by Knygathin on May 27, 2020 7:24:06 GMT
I have heard She spoken of countless times down the years, but still never felt the inclination to read H. R. Haggard. There is not enough time. I prefer the luscious fantasies of his literary descendants, especially E. R. Burroughs and A. Merritt. Haggard appears to have more of a realist style, and that doesn't attract me. Though I feel somewhat tempted by The People of the Mist, which is said to sum up all of his best qualities. ... endlessly repeated platitudes rolling round the giant ideological echo chamber. I am glad to hear you haven't fallen for all that, that you have your sensibilities intact, and reject it! Because this has been politically institutionalized, in schools and universities, in both US and Europe. It takes real intellectual integrity and bravery to openly oppose pc.
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Post by andydecker on May 27, 2020 9:47:07 GMT
Oh, nobody reads actual texts nowadays. We only read commentaries." It was one of those revelatory moments. Wow, just ... wow! This must be the saddest - and dumbest - thing I heard in a while. No wonder everything is going to hell.
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