Platypus of Truth

This post will discuss chapters X and XI of Terry Brooks' First King of Shannara .  Those who have not read the book yet and wish to remain spoiler free should not read on. *Plot Points and Perils Ahead (spoilers)* Chapter X gets us to the action, specifically a night raid by those gnomes Tay sensed a few chapters ago.  Recycling a trope from The Elfstones of Shannara , the gnomes and a creepy skull bearer break into the castle and kill or fatally wound almost the entire royal family.  As usual, Brooks goes for violence and gore (within limits) over terror and subtly as Tay and Jerle discover what's happening and try to intervene.  This is pulp fiction and, I think, the kind of thing Terry Brooks enjoys writing most.  He's always wanting to throw us right in to the heart of the action.  The best line from the chapter is one that has stuck with me though.  It describes the skull bearer in its death-throes: "Even then, it took a long time to die."...

Today's post will cover chapters VIII and IX of Terry Brook's First King of Shannara.   Readers who wish to remain spoiler free should not read on. *Spoily-schtuffs* Chapter VIII effectively re-launches the narrative as we begin Tay's quest to find the Black Elfstone.  This makes for a clunk in the story machinery that has ramped up with the assault on Paranor and the attempt to recover the Eilt Druin.  Brooks attempts to smooth over this sudden change of pace by letting us get to know Tay a little better.  This chapter also serves as the great reveal of our titular character, Jerle Shannara.  Shannara is a butch "I'm the hero here ladies" so of guy.  Disappointing -except that we know there must be more, because if we've read The Sword of Shannara then we know that at the critical moment this elven beefcake will fail ... and that, that is interesting. Chapter IX complicates our emerging ensemble and thus attempts to deepen the reader's stake...

The Bridge of Sighs leading from the Doge's palace to the prisons in Venice. Venice is a strange place.  Perhaps it always has been.  A bunch of farmers make wood and clay pylons out in the ocean to build a city that will be impervious to the invading Lombards?  It sound like something from the BioShock series.  This little outpost of the Byzantine Empire became and empire in its own right with the local Roman Dux elevated to Doxe, or Doge as leader of an independent republic.  They even stole Saint Mark's corpse from Egypt so that they could have a suitable talisman to ensure divine protection and increase of profits ("the spice must flow" anyone?).  At the height of their power, the Venetians even dared to sack Constantinople and put their own emperor on the throne.  It took Napoleon to take these guys down. Anyhow, the city seems to retain much of that strangeness today -at least to this outsider.  There was a feeling of closeness, of a p...

Today's post will cover chapters VI and VII of Terry Brooks' First King of Shannara .  Those who wish to remain spoiler free should not read on. *Begin Spoilers (on a 19 year old book)* Noticed something yet?  The book is called First King of Shannara and we don't begin with Jerle Shannara, first king of that line.  In fact, Chapter VII marks the end of the first fifth of the book, The Fall of Paranor , and we still haven't caught more than a prophetic glimpse of the titular character.  There's a distinct similarity here with Star Wars: Episode I , which was just entering pre-production as this novel was being released.  In fact, Terry Brooks wrote the novelization of The Phantom Menace .  But I digress...  What might be reason for Brooks' decision not to begin with his titular character?  Familiarity foes breed contempt, so perhaps Brooks wants to keep Jerle Shannara far enough removed from the audience to keep him a tad bit legendary?...

Gifts of the Mediterranean. Another picture from the villa.  In Italy, we saw many rose bushes growing side by side with grape vines.  Since the roses are such sensitive plants, they serve as "canaries" warning the viticulturist of impending threats to the grapes.  Since there are laws strictly regulating the number of vines that may be planted on a given plot of land, many vineyards are surrounded by olive groves that allow the farmers to produce another crop.  The overall effect is quite beautiful.

This post will cover chapters IV and V of Terry Brooks' First King of Shannara .  Those who wish to remain spoiler free should not read on. *Spoilers* 77 pages and no monster battles.  That's quite an achievement for Terry Brooks.  In the past, fights, horrors, and daring do have been his stock-in-trade for keeping the reader reading.  Perhaps that seems like a backhanded way to start, but I think it works out to a genuine compliment.  First King of Shannara is shaping up to be Brooks' most polished book out of the eight I have read.  That's been Brooks' M.O. throughout: always moving his craft foreword.  That said, let's cut over to a plot summary and a few more observations. Chapter IV introduces us to the new character Mareth, a druid apprentice who wishes to study directly under Bremen.  She also appears to be the token female on this adventure.  The hemming and hawing about taking her along is pretty flat, but once the compan...

With Umberto Eco safely out of the way, we can descend from the heights of the middle-brow and return to the world of pulp.  This will mark the third "Summer of Shannara" here at The Platypus of Truth.  The First "Summer of Shannara" explored the world of the Trilogy, skipping the The Lord of the Rings knock-off that opened the series and engaging with Brooks' original work in The Elfstones of Shannara .  From there, it was on to The Wishsong of Shannara and closing thoughts on Brooks' initial foray into the world of Fantasy.  Last summer was devoted to the Heritage Series which significantly expanded the world of the Four Lands in space and time.  It also represented a real step forward in Brooks' development as a writer.  This summer, I plan to take a look at the odd chronological back-flip Brooks preformed before continuing his narrative with the Voyage of the Jerle Shannara Series.  That odd chronological back flip is the prequel to the origin...

From Florence, we traveled into the surrounding countryside.  I think this is what many people in the 'States think of when the hear "Italy".  It's what the gentleman viticuluturists of SoCal envision when they cash out their retirement fund. Of course the trip wouldn't have been complete without a visit to one of these enchanting little villas.  This particular one, recently refurbished, has been in the family for about a thousand years.  I spent the morning lounging around the place and had a wonderful little brunch when the rest of the group arrived -one of the better mornings I've spent in years.

Ketr unknown Light shon Hokhmah it fills to shine Binah to make its sign A Schism i' Hesed is so fine Emotion knows it Gevurah breaks what we ill lit Tiferet Et Bonum Veritas est en Netzach Hod ek To Yesod and ends Malkuth I

Inside, the duomo is a more subdued affair.  My students uniformly approved of the interior.  The outward extravagance paired with the inward austerity is a sort of reverse of the Hagia Sophia.  What it says about the minds behind the church's construction (a multi-generational effort), I don't know.   

The Duomo of Florence.  A debate developed among my students as to whether this is an ugly building.  As most of them are realist (as opposed to mannerists), the debate went beyond the level of "well I just think..." and "in my own personal opinion."  It was fascinating to talk with them as they tried to work out their own theories of aesthetics. The poor pictures I was able to take don't really do the question justice, but what do you think: is this an ugly building?

I don't like being a tourist.  Tourists gawk and point and talk too loud.  Tourists rush everywhere with their cameras snapping pictures of things they don't really understand because they haven't taken the time to see .  Understanding, appreciating, requires taking time to see .  I saw many things in Italy, but I only had time to see a select few.  We only had an hour at the Trevi Fountain, but that was enough time to begin to see .

It's really a laser designed to combat Rosicrucian vampires from the renewed Byzatine Empire.  Shhh... Conspiracy theories aside, it is rather hard to know what to do with the Vatican.  The crowds are so enormous that it's difficult to get any good pictures, let alone see the marvelous things that literally cover the walls, ceilings, and floors.  The above tapestry, for instance, was done by Raphael with real thread-of-gold that glistens when you shine a light on it.  There's a long hallway full of these.  You're on a time-crunch and swimming amidst a vast human sea; which ones do you look at?  Which ones can you look at.  Then there's this thing called a "camera" strapped to your wrist.  You know that you're supposed to be photo-recording this trip, but that takes time and effort away from actually looking at the art, let alone keeping the students corralled.  See what I mean? On the other hand, YOU'RE IN THE VATICAN.  A few...

Chillin' in the Vatican with the big dude.  Let the conspiracy theories begin. What does it mean? A coded message hidden right beneath our feet?  62-7+32/8.....

The well of Tolkien's unpublished writings seems never to run dry.  This May, Christopher brought the bucket up once more with a short but game-changing fragment.  That fragment is a poem in alliterative verse called The Fall of Arthur . The Fall of Arthur , abandoned some time around 1937, runs some forty pages detailing Arthur's campaigns against the Germanic tribes, Mordred's treachery, Lancelot's remorse, Guinever's pride, and the intial assault on the beaches as Arthur returns to reclaim his crown.  The overall effect is breath-taking and I whole-heartedly agree with Christopher that this is one of the few scripta minora whose unfinished state is a real loss.  What there is is excellent and the supplementary essays provided by Christopher only increased my appreciation of the work. So what's game-changing about this new piece.  After reading the fragment and Tolkien's further notes on its planned development, we can now safely say that Tolkien did n...

I have no idea where this door leads.  It looks perfect for a book cover.  There were lots of doors like this all over Italy.  Each one opens on its own world, mundane or marvelous.  There were a few I saw opened -only a very few.  I wish we had more doors like this.  The grass is always greener.

Beauty: what Man does with great effort Nature does effortlessly.  Yet Man knows and appreciates when what he has made is beautiful.  The flowers of the field wither and return each year, but Rome has had its day and fallen.  Mind knows what Flesh knows, but Mind knows it knows.  Spirit knows what Mind knows, but Spirit knows it knows.  Et en Arcadia ego.

A wilderness of stone. In the 18th and 19th centuries, artists and architects would come to Rome to sketch the ruins .  From those sketches came profusions of paintings, engravings, books, and new feats of design.  Ruins were picturesque.  In the 21st century, they are still picturesque.  What creative inspiration now flows from them?  A million snapshots and the occasional blog post.

This little mound of earth is as close as we can get to the final resting place of Julius Caesar.  It's the mound upon which his corpse was cremated.  Whatever survived the burning was scattered when barbarians sacked the temple.  Lamentable, but sic transit gloria mundi.  If ancients paid his corpse divine honors, we moderns have kept up the custom as best we can.  It's what he would have wanted.  We may not believe in the genius of his house, but we believe in the genius of his will-to-power.  The gods change, but the worth-ship remains.

The Gardens of the Temple of Vesta with Je ne sais qua behind them. The chief memories I have of the Roman Forum are of old stone and wild flowers.  The citizens of Rome strip-mined the Empire's political center and by the early Modern Era it was a trash dump.  Nineteenth and twentieth century archeologists are responsible for excavating the site and its appearance today.  Sadly, there wasn't much of the old grandeur to recover -a few isolated columns and heaps of broken stone.  Nature, however, has added her own adornment to the ruined capital.  Wildflowers cover the site making it one of the pleasanter places we visited.

Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:   O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,   Should patch a wall to expel the winter flaw!

When your empire controlled one quarter of the world's population, even your sports arenas are interesting. Of course this was not a sports arena in the modern sense.  Humans and animals died here in droves as an entertaining object lesson in "Romaness" for all levels of society. The image they created in stone and blood was so powerful that we line up by the hundreds every day just to see its remains.  -and what remains! When all these things are washed away, Old Father Tiber will keep flowing, and what will be left of us -miles of broken asphalt and a million lost golf balls?  Will our oppressions be less because less will remain of them to be seen? The Colosseum in ruins is a sign, a cypher.  The Roman masonry is still heavy enough to bare the weight of meaning.

Re-Purposed: 1 Triumphal Arch When Constantine wanted to advertise his greatness to Rome he chose to appropriate pieces of the monuments of the so called "good emperors."  It may have been because he wished to be identified with these benevolent and beloved monarchs -it may have been because he was short on stone.  Whatever the case, Constantine made sure to erect the finished construction right outside the Colosseum (Flavian Amphitheater) where "Romaness" was put on show for the masses several times a year.  I wonder if the masses got the message. Constantine, the first openly Christian emperor, re-purposed Rome.  He changed the capital, the dominant religion, and the political organization of the empire.  Diocletian began the process and Constantine's heirs would continue it, but by the end of Constantine's reign, how much of the "Roman Empire" would Augustus recognize? Even with Constantine's changes, the Empire eventually dissolved ...

Sometimes it's not re-purposing, sometimes it's stealing. See that Egyptian obelisk?  Someone liked it enough to loot it and whack it on to a nifty fountain.  Forcibly stripped from its original meaning and context, it now serves merely as a curio -perhaps, with a little effort, a reminder of the former puissance of the European powers.  Did the Egyptians want it?  Were they doing anything with it at the time?  I'm sure Dr. Zahi Hawass has an opinion. Of course Italy itself has experienced theft and exploitation at the hands of foreign conquerors.  Napoleon took his share of mementos as did the Nazis, and even American foot-soldiers .  Sometimes, works are restored, sometimes they're left abroad to prevent war and conquest from wiping out entire collections in one fell swoop. So here's the rub: I saw pieces of churches on sale in a street market in Venice.  No one had a use for them anymore: there were pictures, a laver, lamps, a displaced...

The eye is the lamp of the body ... but if the light within you is darkness, how great is the darkness? Re-purposing.  It's not as common in the 'States, but in Italy it's unavoidable.  The Pantheon began as a pagan temple, became a Christian Church, then a tourist attraction, then the tomb of the Italian kings.  Some of my students were unnerved by this.  Was it fair to the pagans to turn their temple into a church?  Even if nobody was using it, shouldn't it be preserved out of respect?  I know that I found it sad to see a church in Venice converted into a museum with all its lamps out and its altars stripped. What does it mean to re-purpose?  Do buildings have fixed meanings?  Is their any such thing as respecting architect's intent?  The Christians who took over the Pantheon understood architect's intent -they simply disagreed with the intent of this particular architect for this particular building and retro-fitted it to suit their ...

It's an eye. God looks down at man, but man, unlike any of the beasts of the field, looks back up to God.  The ancients believed that there was a principle of light within the human eye that met light reflected from objects and mingled with it thus powering the sense of sight.  The eye of heaven shines down upon the Pantheon and the fire from the altar of sacrifice rushes up to meet it.  Heaven and Earth meet, Man sees as he is seen. *Photo taken by the author.

I'm back from Italy and ready to get into the swing of this year's summer reading list.  As a very fitting start, I have chosen Umberto Eco's Foucault's Pendulum as the first novel of the year.  After roaming up and down the boot, the Italian setting of the novel flashes and glimmers in a way that I otherwise would have missed.  I've already read Eco's The Name of the Rose and while Foucault's Pendulum seems to play with the same basic themes I'm interested to see where he'll go with them in this particular setting (this is the book the Da Vinci Code wished it could be).  I've never seen a writer who has such relish for talking highly intellectual piffle for five-hundred pages. In other news, Stratford Caldecott's Tbe Power of the Ring (formerly published as The Secret Fire ) is finished.  As I hoped, The Power of the Ring proved to be an excellent exposition on the specifically Catholic character of Tolkien's work.  As a non-Catho...