The 21st-Century Scop:

exploring media, music, and literature.

Communing with the Masters

February 19th, 2012

It’s about community, not competition.

A number of people have submitted emails in response to the news post I put up yesterday, and some have asked about the meaning of the Dante quote:

e più d’onore ancora assai mi fenno,
ch’e’ sì mi fecer de la loro schiera . . .

The lines are from The Inferno, Canto 4, a scene in which Dante leaves the dark wood to find himself in a pastoral region that sits apart from the errors of the world and the terrors of Hell. Here, in a place beyond time, he joins with five masters of his craft:  Homer, Horace, Ovid, Lucan, and Virgil. These are the writers he has long admired, and he sums up his feelings about finding himself among them with the aforementioned lines, which can be translated thus:

And more honor still, much more, they did me
In that they made me one of their own band . . .

It occurs to me now, particularly after seeing the cover of Voices displayed alongside five other Stoker Nominees at SF Signal, that I might have included one more line in yesterday’s quote.

Here are the full three lines of Dante’s tercet:

e più d’onore ancora assai mi fenno,
ch’e’ sì mi fecer de la loro schiera,
sì ch’io fui sesto tra cotanto senno.

 And in English:

And more honor still, much more, they did me
In that they made me one of their own band,
So that I was the sixth, amid so much wisdom.

I think that’s fitting. It’s not about the competition, about winning or losing against the other works in the collection category. It’s enough to be allowed to stand alongside five of my favorite writers, counted as a member of their band. It’s community, not competition.

Do you agree?

Primordial Score

February 10th, 2012

Nearly sixty years ago, a Japanese composer dragged a leather glove across the strings of a contrabass and created one of the most distinctive sounds in 20th century cinema — Godzilla’s Roar.

I was six when I first heard it, sitting on the floor of my Levittown living room, watching a staticy cathode-ray television. It was sometimes hard to see the picture on that set, but the audio generally came through OK, making for an experience that was more like listening to radio than watching TV. No matter. Godzilla, King of the Monsters was one of those movies that sounded better than it looked.

The Americanized version of Toho’s Gojira featured an atomic age drama in which both the monster (Haruo Nakajima in a rubber suit) and leading man (Raymond Burr in a suit and tie) were spliced into the film. The monster scenes were scratched and degraded even then, and Burr’s scenes didn’t always match the compositions of the original. But the sound? Man, that got inside me.

Last night, I had the chance to see and hear both the original Japanese film and the American mash-up in a single sitting, courtesy of a newly restored Blu-Ray release from Criterion. The 1080p presentation with lossless audio was a long way from the fuzzy broadcast I viewed as a kid, but my intention here isn’t to review the restoration. Instead, I’d like to take a moment to consider the dark and brooding score by Akira Ifukube. It’s music designed to evoke a sense of power and dread, and as such it is (like everything else about the original film) a long way from the increasingly whimsical sequels that came later. For me, that 1950′s soundtrack is the sound of horror. 

Tonight I’ve got plenty of work to keep me busy. My desk is covered. Deadlines loom. Nevertheless, I’m thinking seriously about going downstairs and giving that Criterion disk another spin. And you know what? Maybe this time I’ll patch that high-end Blu-Ray player through an old converter box, squeeze the hi-def signal down into a coaxial cable, and hook the whole shebang up to an old cathode ray set that I have sitting in the garage.

Could work.

Who says you can’t relive the past?

 

Sound Notes:

Here’s the monster’s roar as it sounded in 1954. The sound was achieved by rubbing a leather glove over the tuned-down strings of a contrabass. Echo was added and the recording slowed down, resulting in a wonderfully organic monster sound.  

Here’s an excerpt of the slow, ominous march that plays as Gojira’s leaves Tokyo, heading back to the sea.

Finally, here’s an up-tempo selection that plays during the monster’s rampage. It features a three syllable riff that seems to be chanting the monster’s name: “Go-ji-ra! Go-ji-ra!” (The Americanized pronunciation “Godzilla” also works.) The riff seems to have inspired Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmire” — a song that was heavily sampled for Puff Daddy’s “Come with Me.” That tune can be heard on the soundtrack of Roland Emmerich’s 1998 attempted reboot of the Godzilla franchise.

Beyond the Walls of Horror

February 5th, 2012

Horror isn’t a genre. It’s an ingredient. A seasoning. Such things have been pointed out before, most notably by Douglas Winter in Revelations (1997), but a quick look at this year’s Bram Stoker Award™ Preliminary Ballot shows that it bears repeating.

This year the short-fiction jury has selected three strong works from mainstream publications, Ramona Ausubel’s “Atria” (New Yorker, April 4), George Saunders’s “Home” (New Yorker, June 13) and Stephen King’s “Herman Wouk Is Still Alive” (The Atlantic, May).

The past year also saw Zoetrope All-Story Magazine and Granta putting out special Horror Issues, featuring writers not generally associated with the genre, but most turning in work that puts the ingredients to good use.

Beyond these examples, I’m often struck by passages of genuine horror that I frequently encounter in works that have never been marketed or labeled as such. Most notably Augusten Burroughs’s chilling memoir A Wolf at the Table and Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian (both books from past years that I have only recently gotten around to reading).

The take-away, of course, is that some of the best opportunities for readers and writers of horror lie well beyond the genre walls.

Do you agree? Got a work you’d like to recommend?

As always, the comment box is open.

“Dramatize it! Dramatize it!”

January 18th, 2012

In my previous post I promised to spend time responding to questions submitted during my most recent presentation on “The Art of Revision” at Seton Hill University. If you want to know more about the backstory, please take a look at that previous post, otherwise . . . read on!

The next question in my stack is one that we did not get to during the residency:

How do you go about writing a story in which the main character is unaware of a major plot point that the reader needs to know about?

This need to know issue can be tricky, for although writers should fully understand the forces at work on their characters and the worlds they inhabit, the best stories are often those that dramatize compelling action without explaining why they happen.

By dramatizing, the writer is better able to more accurately evoke the mysteries and ambiguities of life.  Think about it? Aren’t the most interesting experiences the ones we figure out for ourselves, where we learn about people by observing their behavior, where we develop a sense of a place by moving through it – exploring and interacting? We should expect no less from our fiction.

Hemingway said it best in his essay “The Art of the Short Story”:

“If you leave out important things or events that you know about, the story is strengthened. If you leave or skip something because you do not know it, the story will be worthless.”

Of course, Hemingway didn’t write science fiction. He didn’t build worlds, but he nevertheless had a knack for making the landscapes of Europe and Africa accessible to American readers who had never been. He did so by dramatizing the interactions of interesting characters within those landscapes, conveying a sense of how things work by showing them at work. Science fiction writers do this all the time, using a technique called in-clueing (which I believe was coined by Jo Walton).

The trick, then, is not to explain . . . but to not explain.

Work out the backstory thoroughly for yourself, then dramatize it . . . and trust the reader to get it.

Do you agree? Have anything to add? What to ask a follow-up question?

The comment box is open.