Origami Unicorn

Sci-Fi in The NYT Book Review

Beginning tomorrow, Sunday, March 5, 2006, The York Times Book Review will be publishing a column on—wait for it, wait for it, it's so sweet—science fiction. "Across the Universe" by Dave Itzkoff begins with an article entitled, "It's All Geek to Me." After his first review, of David Marusek's Counting Heads, he concludes, "Perhaps I've crossed the line from criticism to outiright advocacy, but you ever heard of a geek who could keep his opinions to himself?"

Masters of Sci-Fi Series

Ursula K. LeGuin's Nine Lives has just been optioned for a series on the Sci-Fi Channel, as has Alice Sheldon AKA James Tiptree, Jr.'s "The Screwfly Solution." The entire series is planned to be thirteen hour-long mini-movies, following the general format of their Masters of Horror series.

19: "In a Hole in the Ground..."

Given that Tolkien was Catholic, and that of so stern a cast that he worried that his creating a world in which mankind had not been nor was destined to be saved by Christ was a sin only to be cast off by destroying all he had written about it, it strains me a trifle to believe that he would have relished "The Demon Pope," by Richard Garnett. On the other hand, perhaps it is I who am po-faced, and Tolkien who might have been the first to laugh aloud...

The Devil came, and he tempted a young university student. The bargaining went so badly that the best the fiend was able to do was to offer the potential victim assistance for forty years, at the end of which time he would come and ask for one thing that lay within the student's power to grant, that thing being neither his soul nor his mind.

After careful reflection, the student agreed to the bargain.

Forty years passed, and passed very well indeed, for on the day appointed the man was Pope, and sitting in his study surrounded by those things which appeal to the learned. The Devil appeared and asked to be made Cardinal. The Pope astutely observed that it would then, upon his own death, be the fiend who would arrange matters so the he should become Pope.

The Devil explained that he would be a most exemplary Pope, who would see to it that all heathen knowledge would be destroyed, and that only priests could read and that only their breviary.

The Pope counter-offered to accompany the fiend to the infernal regions immediately, rather than see such a treasure of knowledge lost.

The Devil explained that he could not take a truly good man and further that he knew that the Pope knew such was the case.

Indeed I do, replied the man he had bargained with, which is why I face you with such composure. You wish to be a Cardinal. I shall make you Pope—

The fiend flushed eagerly.

—for twelve hours. At the end of that time, we shall confer and see if you would prefer to give up such a dignity. Further, I promise to grant you any boon within my powers which does not offend religion or morals.

The Devil was most willing, and so he took the Pope's place, and the true Pope, taking up a book of magic, retired into a secret room to while away the time.

The Devil donned the robes and trappings of office, but no sooner had he settled them comfortably upon himself than the door burst open and a group of sundry clergy came to complain of his dangerous learning. His faux-human form being weak, he was quickly bound and gagged, while his captors debated his fate. None of the proposals seemed overly pleasant.

One, more asute than the rest, suggested the matter could be settled beyond doubt by stripping their victim and looking for such signs as mark the Devil's own. They were richly rewarded for their efforts: The Holy Father had a cloven hoof for one foot. The singular thing was that, by their expressions and by the meaningful glances they gave one another, their victim appeared to have excited favorable interest.

(to be continued)

Gordo

March 2, 1985 saw the last strip of Gordo, a comic created by Gus Arriola, and thick with now-embarassing Mexican sterotypes when it began in 1941. However, by the the end, the characters had grown into real, if comic, people, who introduced many Americans to life as it really was south of the border.

Gordo, who began as a bean farmer, was eventually forced off his land because his landlord could no longer afford to rent it for farming. By the time the strip ended, Gordo and his trusty bus, Halley's Comet, were touring Americans around Mexico on "grapejuice" power.

Arriola was a graduate of the Charles Mintz studio, where he worked as an "tweener"—a junior artist who created continuity drawing for animated films. Industry-wide, many tweeners were women, who never rose from the ranks. The Disney Studio, in particular, resisted having women work as senior artists.

These days we avoid these problems by using computers and exporting hand animation to Southeast Asia, changes which have provided us with new sets of sterotypes—but the stories of CGI, manga, and anime will have to wait for another day.

As the story of his strip drew to a close, Arriola, the son of Mexican emigrants, was commended by the California Legislature for the excellence of his work and for his role in promoting inter-ethnic understanding.

18: "In A Hole in the Ground..."

The Minor Canon, upon hearing the Griffin proposed to return to the town, was worried, but the creature assured him that he would have nothing to do with the townspeople. He had the statue he wished to see.

The Griffin told the young man to rest for the night and as the Minor Canon slept the Griffin flew him back to the meadow where they first met.

The Minor Canon rose in the esteem of his fellows and all was well for him and better, perhaps, for the townspeople who had learned slightly different ways of living by his example and efforts.

But as for the Griffin, an honorable creature if there ever was one, deprived of the meal he really wanted, he gazed at his statue, pined away, and finally was no more.

There's no evidence that Tolkien ever read any of Stockton's stories, but the Griffin, capable of great harm to the object of his affection—or appetite—who refrains from satisfying it, is vaguely echoed in Beorn, the bear-man, who shelters Bilbo and company in The Hobbit but warns his guests not to come out at night. I don't think there is even a thread of connection.

Stockton, a polished professional writer ho could turn the ending of a tale with assurance, was quite a different person from the Oxford don who created a mythology, several languages, and a world before writing what he considered "a simple quest" that he did not expect to be too difficult to write and that would be the follow-up his publisher wanted to his successful children's book.

Next in Tales Before Tolkien, "The Demon Pope" by Richard Garnett.

(to be continued)