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Showing posts from May, 2012

Hellboy in Mexico and Christological Echoes: The Platypus Reads Part CLI

The Sacred Heart of Jesus always catches my eye.  There's a story in this.  Back during the Great Depression, my great-grandfather owned a restaurant.  One day, a man came in and told my great-grandfather that he was hungry but couldn't afford a meal.  My great-grandfather, a devout Catholic, sat him down and gave him one for free.  The man thanked him and left.  The next day he came back and told my great-grandfather that he had a job interview but needed a watch so he could be on time.  Again, my great-grandfather gave him his pocket watch.  Now the man did come back, and with the watch, but when he returned it to its owner there was a slight change: the man had painted inside in minute detail the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  It was his "thank you" for a man who was unafraid to live the gospel. Now, I told you that story to tell you a less important one.  Namely, what I see in Mike Mignola's Hellboy in Mexico , part of the collection Hellboy: The Bride of Hel

The Return of the Summer of Shannara: The Platypus Reads Part CL

Last year's "summer of Shannara" went well and I thought I would continue it this summer by going through the Heritage of Shannara series.  I started book I, The Scions of Shannara , the day school let out and I've reached chapter 10.  As with last year, my goal is to blog my way through all four books of the series giving my reactions as I go.  Those who wish to remain spoiler free should not read on. The Heritage Series begins three-hundred years after the death of Allanon and the disappearance of Paranor, the druid castle, from the Four Lands.  The first book of the series, The Scions of Shannara , opens well with familiar character Cogline meeting at night with the shade of Allanon to discuss the future of the Four Lands.  Cogline, against his will, is sent by the shade to find the three surviving members of the house of Shannara that still carry the old magic: Par, Wren, and Walker.  This first book of the series is really Par's, and we spend much of th

Summer Reading 2012

Tomorrow is the last day of classes and that means that it's time for the return of summer reading.  I'm planning on a follow-up to last year's "Summer of Shannara" by blogging my way through the Heritage of Shannara series (maybe they'll be better?).  There's also bound to be plenty of all things Greek with The Cambridge Companion to Homer, Memories of Odysseus, Spartan Notes, The Mycenaeans, Blackwell's Companion to Ancient Epic, etc. on the list.  The Greeks won't own the whole show as The Rape of Nanking and The Memory Palace of Mateo Ricci are also there to globalize a bit.  Tolkien certainly won't be left out as I happen to have gotten a nice critical edition of The Monsters and the Critics from some generous family friends as well as a copy of The Company They Keep from my wife.  Lewis is also on the menu with Sayer's biography as well as Gresham's Lenten lands and Lewis own Experiment in Criticism .  Back to the world of pu

Justin Gerard Paints the Silmarillion

This gallery is a must for Tolkien fans.  I could do with more galleries like this, not to mention more operas, stage plays, concerts, frescoes...  Note, in particular, how Gerard has incorporated Tolkien's love of Arthur Rackham and art nouveau into his designs.

Platypi Against Wizardry: The Platypus Reads Part CXLIX

No, the Platypus isn't getting Levitical.  What I do want to talk about, however, is Fritz Leiber's fourth Fafhrd and Grey Mouser volume, Swords Against Wizardry . Having returned from our world, Fafhrd and Mouser seek adventure far from the decadence of native Lankhmar.  In the first story, this means a journey to Fafhrd's northern home and the attempt to scale an unscalable peak in search of jewels.  Along the way they encounter girls (that pernicious habit) and fend off rival adventurers.  Returning to the base of the mountain loaded with jewels, our heroes turn to that city of misadventure, Lankhmar to sell their booty.  This leads into the second story which features our "heroes" trying to sell their loot without losing it to rival thieves.  Along the way they encounter more girls (noting a theme yet?) and end by losing their loot to more cunning and depraved adversaries.  The loss of the loot sends them into the third tale, co-written with Leiber's fri

The Platypus Gets the Word Out

Hi all, there's a new Doug TenNapel web comic that's just gone up, Nnewts .  I loved Ratfist , and I'm excited to see where this new adventure will take us.  If you like TenNapel's style, you should also check out his friend Ethan Nicole as well over at Bearmaggedon .  These guys both offer something fresh and different from the normal super-hero schtick and I've loved following their work over the years.  If you like comics, but are tired of the "same-old, same-old" give these two a shot.

Le Guin's Orsinian Tales: The Platypus Reads Part CXLVIII

Going through a library book sale has unearthed a few gems.  One of those was a Le Guin book I'd never heard of before: Orsinian Tales .  It's neither sci-fi nor fantasy, and that's what immediately drew my interest.  The stories of the Orsinian Tales take place in a fictional Eastern European country and follow the general history of that region.  In this imagined setting, Le Guin follows various lives of Orsinia's people through the great events of European history.  The tales in themselves are well written but only loosely connected: perfect for leisurely or sporadic reading.  If you like Le Guin, check it out.

T.S. Platypus

April is the cruelest month, but May brings graduation.

California's Gods: Strange Platypus(es)

We've noticed lately a strange Californian dialectical twist: there, freeways take the definite article.  In other parts of the country one speaks of I 91 or 45 North.  In California, there's The 5, The 405, The 10.  Each of these freeways has its own quirks, a personality of sorts.  They aren't just stretches of pavement but presences, creatures that necessitate the definite article by their very individuality and uniqueness.  They are the angry gods to be worked, placated, feared, for without them life in California as we know it would cease.  Perhaps that's fitting for a land whose cities are named for saints and angels.  Mary may preside over the new pueblo of our lady of the angels, but the freeways slither like gigantic serpents through the waste places, malevolent spirits not yet trampled under foot.

Sublime and Theological Localism: Strange Platypus(es)

There have been quite a number of bands over the last few decades that have devoted significant time and effort to exploring what it means to be Californian.  The Red Hot Chili Peppers deserve special mention.  There are even more bands who hale from the Golden State that can be credited with creating a unique California "sound."  That sound speaks of wide horizons, golden hills, twisting highways and canyon roads, hazy blue skies, sea breezes, and jasmine scented twilight.  There's one piece in particular that's been going through my mind lately.  Let me explain. I arrived in SoCal in 1998, just in time for the ska, swing, and reggae craze that struck the Golden State and spread east.  The song "Santeria" by Sublime had been out for at least two years before I heard it, but it struck me then and still strikes me now as quintessentially Californian.  It's a little insight into the soul of SoCal.  Every time I hear it, I can't help but think of the

The Damnation of Theron Ware: The Platypus Reads Part CXLVII

My string of discovering lost classics continues with the 1896 novel The Damnation of Theron Ware by Harold Frederic.  It's a realistic novel set in upstate New York and focuses on corruption of a foolish and naive Methodist minister who comes into contact with a group of worldly socialites.  On a deeper level, the story serves as a metaphor for America as an emergent world power at the turn of the twentieth century. I'm a fan of most things that involve New England or the immediate vicinity.  I also have an interest in American regionalism in general.  The world Harold Frederic evokes strikes me as an accurate representation of the "bones" upon which the contemporary North East is built.  The roll of Irish immigrants, Catholicism and their interaction with older Anglo families and Protestantism struck me in particular as well as the prominence of class distinctions.  My ancestors were Irish Catholics and I recognised much in Frederic's report of the plight of