Here's an interesting-sounding book:
The Science of Middle-Earth: Explaining the Science Behind the Greatest Fantasy Epic Ever Told! by Henry Gee.
The promotional blurb reads in part: The author explores just how elves might be able to see much further than humans, why Frodo's sword turns blue at the sight of evil orcs, how the rings of power do their thing, and just about every other conundrum or piece of 'elvish magic' that have puzzled and delighted Tolkien fans for years. Throughout, Gee makes the point that science, fantasy, and nature are really more similar than one might think. Gee writes in a popular tone and style, fully explaining all science concepts and convincingly demonstrating how Tolkien's world of fantasy makes sense in a very real - scientific - way.
Now, you might think this is a pointless exercise in fandom by a fantasy fanatic with his head in the clouds... except for the fact that Dr. Henry Gee is himself a scientist, more specifically a paleontologist and evolutionary biologist. He is also a senior editor of Nature, the world-renowned scientific journal, and has edited a collection of science fiction previously published in the pages of Nature. He's written popular books on evolutionary biology, genomics, and dinosaurs. The Scientific American review of the LotR book points out: In a closing essay, [Gee] argues that "Tolkien's own worldview was closer to the true spirit of science than that held by many who propose to promote the public understanding of science."
He's also written some science fiction of his own, which is available for free here. The write-up: "Jack Corstorphine is a man with a rare intuition. He is convinced that the landscape of Europe hides a civilization a million years old. Jadis Markham has a gift for analysis -- she can reach solutions while everyone else is still grappling with the problem. Together, they change the face of prehistory. But prehistory bites back. Forces almost beyond imagination are stirring in Jack and Jadis' world, among the worlds of their friends -- their scientist-priest mentor Domingo, and their adopted son, Tom -- and among the stars. The Sigil is an epic of near-future SF about the nature of the past, religion, love and the nature of humanity."
I tend to enjoy the work of people who avoid polarization or easy categorization, like those who are at home in both science and art, who are good at rigorous thinking but who also appreciate the power and beauty of myth. And it seems that Dr. Gee is one of those 'in-between' people, not only in regards to fantastic literature ("he read The Lord of the Rings about once a year between the ages of 10 and 25") but also in questions of science, religion and philosophy. According to his awfully witty blog, The End Of The Pier Show, he is Jewish, with progressive/liberal opinions on religious matters. On the one hand, he's strongly opposed to creationism and the Intelligent Design movement, and on the other he has also expressed his disagreement with the militant atheists among his scientist colleagues (for example, here, here or here) while maintaining personal friendships with many of them.*
Something that comes through loud and clear on his blog, as a powerful recurring theme, is his passion for popularizing science for the widest possible audience. The Science of Middle-Earth sounds like a marvelous contribution to that quest.
*If you strongly disagree with Dr. Gee's views on creationism, I.D., militant atheism, or The Lord of the Rings, please take the issue up with him, as I'm allergic to strenous comment box arguments.
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
Terry Pratchett
I'm not entirely sure what to think of this news item. But it seems that Discworld author Terry Pratchett's views on the gods or God have mellowed somewhat:
"...in an interview with a Sunday newspaper, he said: "It is just possible that once you have got past all the gods that we have created with big beards and many human traits, just beyond all that, on the other side of physics, they just may be the ordered structure from which everything flows. That is both a kind of philosophy and totally useless - it doesn't take you anywhere. But it fills a hole."
These comments are apparently linked to a recent experience which Pratchett describes. However, last year he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, so I'm sure many people will dismiss any new opinion because of that.
"...in an interview with a Sunday newspaper, he said: "It is just possible that once you have got past all the gods that we have created with big beards and many human traits, just beyond all that, on the other side of physics, they just may be the ordered structure from which everything flows. That is both a kind of philosophy and totally useless - it doesn't take you anywhere. But it fills a hole."
These comments are apparently linked to a recent experience which Pratchett describes. However, last year he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, so I'm sure many people will dismiss any new opinion because of that.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Gary Gygax
There's a new piece in Wired on the late Gary Gygax. For you non-gamer folk, Gygax was the creator of Dungeons & Dragons. Mark Stricherz of GetReligion comments on the end of the article, which mentions Gygax's religious beliefs. Apparently towards the end of his life he came to believe in some sort of Creator, as well as in prayer.
In the GetReligion comments section, a person says that Gygax was actually one of Jehovah's Witnesses, and that the religious turn wasn't anything new. Perhaps the Wired article is wrong, or perhaps Gygax at some point left the J-dubs and then later adopted revised religious beliefs.
Personally, I'd find it hard to believe that Gygax was a JW in good standing when he was working on D&D. My impression is that the wave of apprehension and outright hysteria about devil-worship and D&D in conservative evangelical circles quickly jumped social barriers to affect many JWs. (Except they called it "demonism." The same thing happened with Smurfs: there was a frantic purge of all Smurf-related objects. Later it happened with Harry Potter.) When I was growing up as a JW (in the '80s and '90s) there was still a lot of suspicion surrounding role-playing games and, to a lesser extent, fantasy stories that included magic. I managed to evade these prohibitions, and I knew at least one adult JW who was into fantasy and gaming. But I never did play D&D proper, and I remember tensing up when friend and I were questioned by a circuit overseer (something like a travelling bishop) about role-playing games. We managed to make them sound like harmless fun. I think.
In the GetReligion comments section, a person says that Gygax was actually one of Jehovah's Witnesses, and that the religious turn wasn't anything new. Perhaps the Wired article is wrong, or perhaps Gygax at some point left the J-dubs and then later adopted revised religious beliefs.
Personally, I'd find it hard to believe that Gygax was a JW in good standing when he was working on D&D. My impression is that the wave of apprehension and outright hysteria about devil-worship and D&D in conservative evangelical circles quickly jumped social barriers to affect many JWs. (Except they called it "demonism." The same thing happened with Smurfs: there was a frantic purge of all Smurf-related objects. Later it happened with Harry Potter.) When I was growing up as a JW (in the '80s and '90s) there was still a lot of suspicion surrounding role-playing games and, to a lesser extent, fantasy stories that included magic. I managed to evade these prohibitions, and I knew at least one adult JW who was into fantasy and gaming. But I never did play D&D proper, and I remember tensing up when friend and I were questioned by a circuit overseer (something like a travelling bishop) about role-playing games. We managed to make them sound like harmless fun. I think.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Book Review: The Stoneholding
by Mark James. Stoneharp Press, 2004. 322 p.
The honest, doughty highlanders of Lammermorn have long defied Gawmage, the usurper who sits on the throne of Arvon. Surrounded by mountains, they have stayed true to the old ways, represented by aged Wilum, the Hordanu (High Bard) of all Arvon. But the Great Harmony which sustains the forces of order and good has been breaking down for a long time, and there seems to be no way to restore it. Now Ferabek, the evil overlord who pulls Gawmage’s strings, has taken a personal interest in the clanholding of Lammermorn. The Sacred Fire tended by the Hordanu has been quenched, and troops are massing to annihilate those living in the valley. Can Wilum and his young assistants Kal and Galli survive long enough to rekindle the Fire, find the lost heir to the throne, and restore the Harmony?
The Stoneholding (the first book of The Talamadh) draws on Celtic mythology and a vaguely Scottish setting. The authors (Mark James is a pen name for Mark Sebanc and James G. Anderson) are clearly and unashamedly indebted to Tolkien, as most epic fantasies are. Kal and Galli are somewhat like Frodo and Sam, though not excessively so. The Celtic religion is infused with a subtle Christian sensibility, also in the tradition of Tolkien. I thought I saw a few nods to other fantasists, such as Robert Jordan.
Those who crave epic struggles between good and evil, featuring lost royalty, reluctant homespun heroes, and desperate measures, will find much to their liking in The Stoneholding. The genre is a well-worn one, but Sebanc and Anderson manage to inject unique elements thanks to the Celtic influence. The theme of a divine harmony which sustains the cosmos is particularly satisfying. Figures such as Wuldor, Ardiel, and Hedric are handled in an appropriately mythic style: the latter two appear in a striking transfiguration sequence near the end of the book.
I felt that the dialogue was at times stilted, though my imagining the characters as having Scottish accents did make it seem more plausible. The descriptive writing was more skillful, especially in regards the natural environs of the Lammermorn. The hints and prophecies are sometimes a little too broad, but on the other hand a number of important developments caught me by surprise. Best of all, I found myself caring more and more about the main characters as the book progressed: they’re likable in a down-to-earth kind of way, particularly old Master Wilum.
3 out of 5
The honest, doughty highlanders of Lammermorn have long defied Gawmage, the usurper who sits on the throne of Arvon. Surrounded by mountains, they have stayed true to the old ways, represented by aged Wilum, the Hordanu (High Bard) of all Arvon. But the Great Harmony which sustains the forces of order and good has been breaking down for a long time, and there seems to be no way to restore it. Now Ferabek, the evil overlord who pulls Gawmage’s strings, has taken a personal interest in the clanholding of Lammermorn. The Sacred Fire tended by the Hordanu has been quenched, and troops are massing to annihilate those living in the valley. Can Wilum and his young assistants Kal and Galli survive long enough to rekindle the Fire, find the lost heir to the throne, and restore the Harmony?
The Stoneholding (the first book of The Talamadh) draws on Celtic mythology and a vaguely Scottish setting. The authors (Mark James is a pen name for Mark Sebanc and James G. Anderson) are clearly and unashamedly indebted to Tolkien, as most epic fantasies are. Kal and Galli are somewhat like Frodo and Sam, though not excessively so. The Celtic religion is infused with a subtle Christian sensibility, also in the tradition of Tolkien. I thought I saw a few nods to other fantasists, such as Robert Jordan.
Those who crave epic struggles between good and evil, featuring lost royalty, reluctant homespun heroes, and desperate measures, will find much to their liking in The Stoneholding. The genre is a well-worn one, but Sebanc and Anderson manage to inject unique elements thanks to the Celtic influence. The theme of a divine harmony which sustains the cosmos is particularly satisfying. Figures such as Wuldor, Ardiel, and Hedric are handled in an appropriately mythic style: the latter two appear in a striking transfiguration sequence near the end of the book.
I felt that the dialogue was at times stilted, though my imagining the characters as having Scottish accents did make it seem more plausible. The descriptive writing was more skillful, especially in regards the natural environs of the Lammermorn. The hints and prophecies are sometimes a little too broad, but on the other hand a number of important developments caught me by surprise. Best of all, I found myself caring more and more about the main characters as the book progressed: they’re likable in a down-to-earth kind of way, particularly old Master Wilum.
3 out of 5
Monday, November 20, 2006
Book Review - The Golden Gryphon Feather
by Richard Purtill. Daw Books, 1979. 160 p.
Purtill is a Catholic philosopher and Tolkien scholar, and The Golden Gryphon Feather was his first published novel. It is the story of a girl named Chryseis, who is sent as tribute to M’nos of Kaphtu, along with 13 other young Athenians.
Blending mythology with what is known of Minoan civilization, Purtill spins a tale of the gods and heroes of the ancient world which is reminiscent of Lewis’ Till We Have Faces or Wolfe’s Soldier of the Mist. One exciting theme involves the acrobatic bull-leaping dance which the Minoans depicted in their art.
As with many first novels, the writing here is a little uneven. It’s the characters all tend to speak in a similarly crisp, matter-of-fact fashion which can make them a little hard to distinguish from one another. The main character is an interesting and competent girl, but she’s sometimes a little too competent. Exotic threats and life-threatening problems seem rather humdrum when Chryseis, Ariadne, and their friends are on the case.
The thought-world of the Greeks comes to life in a respectful and vivid manner. Purtill constructs an intriguing history and genealogy of the many pagan gods, demigods and monsters which is consistent with a belief in one supreme God, along the lines of Tolkien’s Silmarillion or Wolfe’s The Wizard Knight.
The Golden Gryphon Feather is the first book of a trilogy which continues in The Stolen Goddess and The Mirror of Helen.
3 out of 5
Purtill is a Catholic philosopher and Tolkien scholar, and The Golden Gryphon Feather was his first published novel. It is the story of a girl named Chryseis, who is sent as tribute to M’nos of Kaphtu, along with 13 other young Athenians.
Blending mythology with what is known of Minoan civilization, Purtill spins a tale of the gods and heroes of the ancient world which is reminiscent of Lewis’ Till We Have Faces or Wolfe’s Soldier of the Mist. One exciting theme involves the acrobatic bull-leaping dance which the Minoans depicted in their art.
As with many first novels, the writing here is a little uneven. It’s the characters all tend to speak in a similarly crisp, matter-of-fact fashion which can make them a little hard to distinguish from one another. The main character is an interesting and competent girl, but she’s sometimes a little too competent. Exotic threats and life-threatening problems seem rather humdrum when Chryseis, Ariadne, and their friends are on the case.
The thought-world of the Greeks comes to life in a respectful and vivid manner. Purtill constructs an intriguing history and genealogy of the many pagan gods, demigods and monsters which is consistent with a belief in one supreme God, along the lines of Tolkien’s Silmarillion or Wolfe’s The Wizard Knight.
The Golden Gryphon Feather is the first book of a trilogy which continues in The Stolen Goddess and The Mirror of Helen.
3 out of 5
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