Book Review: The Transplanted

Book Review: The Transplanted by John Bodnar

This volume, written in the 1980s, is a survey of patterns of immigration into urban areas of the United States between 1830-1930 (approximately.)    It covers those who came to stay, those who just came to get a nest egg to improve life in their home country, and those who intended to go back but just never got around to it.  Mr. Bodnar was and still is a professor of history at Indiana University.

The Transplanted

The general theme of this book seems to be “it’s complicated.”  The immigrant experience was not uniform, with their reactions and outcomes varying considerably depending on their initial motivations for emigration, the areas they came from, their initial social class and starting capital, and what part of America they ended up in.  Trying to fit the immigrants into a single narrative that fits a particular philosophy doesn’t really work, according to Professor Bodnar.

It’s pretty dry stuff, starting with a chapter on the countries immigrants came from and focusing on when various regions had their largest numbers go.  This isn’t a book for the casual reader.

The most interesting chapter for me was on religion and how their faiths both influenced how immigrants adapted to American life, and were forced to adapt themselves.  Often there were clashes between those who felt they were (ethnicity) first, (religion) second, and those (especially religious leaders) who felt the reverse.  One example was Slovak immigrants who were suspicious of their priests and ministers who preached in favor of Hungarian rule of the homeland.  (It was later confirmed that the Austro-Hungarian Empire did indeed pay off religious leaders to spout pro-Hungarian propaganda in the U.S.)

Another conflict that often came up was between the urge to embrace Americanization and blend into their new society, and the fear of losing the unique cultural elements of their homeland or religious beliefs.  This often led to a preference for parochial or ethnicity-based schools rather than putting children into the public school system.

There are extensive end notes, a bibliography and index, as well as a handful of black-and-white pictures.

Again, this isn’t a book for the casual reader, but is best suited for college students and up who are doing serious research on the subject of immigration.  For most people, I’d recommend one of the many fine memoirs of immigrant families available at your local library.

Book Review: Great Historical Coincidences

Book Review: Great Historical Coincidences by Pere Romanillos

“Serendipity” is the good fortune that comes when you discover something useful or interesting while you were looking for something else.  Knowing how to grasp the opportunity offered by serendipity is one of those skills that every scientist and artist should have at their disposal.  This book, originally published as ¡Menuda chiripa! Las serendipias más famosas covers many instances of serendipity, mostly in the area of science.

Great Historical Coincidences

After a lengthy introduction on the subject of serendipity and fortunate coincidences, there are 49 essays on individual discoveries divided by scientific field.  We begin with physics and Archimedes’ Principle (and the origin of “Eureka!”) and end with archaeology and the terracotta soldiers of Qin.  Many of the stories were familiar to me, such as the melting chocolate bar that revealed the existence of microwaves; while others were new to me, such as the origin of the Pap smear.

This book is heavily illustrated and the translation by Janet Foster uses language that should make this book suitable for bright junior high students on up.  (Some parents may find discussion of the biology of sex unsuitable for their kids.)  There’s some clumsy phrasing from time to time.  There’s no index or citations, but there is a bibliography to search for more information–much of it in Spanish.

This is one of those books primarily meant as a present; the treatment of each discovery is short and only covers highlights and often context is missing.  Consider it for a budding scientist or history buff, perhaps as a pair with the same author’s Great Historical Blunders.

Book Review: Rad Women Worldwide

Book Review: Rad Women Worldwide by Kate Schatz

Right up front, I have to say that the title is the most annoying thing about this book.   Did anyone ever use “rad” as an adjective unironically?  That said, “radical” is not an unfair term to apply to many of the women whose short biographies are written in this volume.  There are forty stories set around 30 “countries”, starting with Enheduanna of Mesopotamia, the first named author that we have records of, and wrapping around the globe to Emma Goldman, born in Russia, anarchist and advocate for worker’s rights.

Rad Women Worldwide

This is a sequel to Rad American Women A-Z by the same creators; the greater scope allows them to have more variety.  There are scientists, athletes and entertainers, politicians and even a princess!  The book is written for middle-grade girls, but some of the subject matter may be difficult for more sensitive readers.  (A couple of these biographies moved me to tears.)  Many of the women covered I had heard of before, but a few were new to me.

The papercut illustrations by Miriam Klein Stahl give the book a distinctive, rough-hewn look; it also ties the appearance of the volume together better than a mix of photographs and paintings might have, as there are both historical and contemporary women covered.

This book also wears its politics on its sleeve, obvious in the selection of women to write about.  Politically conservative parents might find it uncomfortable that Kasha Jacqueline Nagabasera (fights for gay rights in Uganda) and Buffy Sainte-Marie (anti-war activist) get full entries while such right-wing icons as Margaret Thatcher and Mother Teresa don’t even make the 250 honorable mentions in the back.  The poem about “the stateless”, refugees, exiles and others torn from their homelands includes the line “No human being is illegal.”

As is common in collections of short biographies, only the highlights of any given woman’s life are included, and edited according to the author’s intent.  Many of these women were controversial during their lifetimes, and some of them are still controversial now.  A reader who takes a particular interest in one of the subjects would be well advised to seek out more complete biographies.  I’ve previously reviewed biographies of King Hatshepsut http://www.skjam.com/2016/01/20/book-review-the-woman-who-would-be-king-hatshepsuts-rise-to-power-in-ancient-egypt/ and Queen Lili’uokalani http://www.skjam.com/2014/02/21/book-review-lost-kingdom-hawaiis-last-queen-the-sugar-kings-and-americas-first-imperial-adventure/ , for example.

I expect that this book will end up in  a lot of elementary school libraries.  I’d also recommend this volume to parents of middle-grade kids (yes, boys too, to go with their many books about famous men) with the caveat (or bonus!) that you might want to sit down with them to discuss some of the topics that will come up.

Disclaimer:  I received a copy of this book from Blogging for Books for the purpose of writing this review.  No other compensation was offered or requested.

Book Review: The Four False Weapons

Book Review: The Four False Weapons by John Dickson Carr

Richard Curtis, junior partner at the law firm of Curtis, Hunt, D’Arcy & Curtis, is beginning to regret his career choice.  The office-bound life of a solicitor is dreadfully dull for a young man that longs for adventure and secret missions!   Just as he is about to succumb to utter boredom, Mr. Hunt, the acting senior partner, calls Richard in for a conference.  It seems that Ralph Douglas, a wealthy young client of the firm, has noticed odd things going on at a villa near Paris that he rents but does not live at.  It’s probably nothing important, but can Richard dash across the Channel to check in with Mr. Douglas?

The Four False Weapons

As it happens, Ralph is in a bit of a delicate situation between his fiancee Magda Toller, her overprotective mother, and his ex-lover Rose Clonec.  The villa in question was where he put up La Clonec while they were together; it’s supposed to be shut up tight, but someone’s been there recently and turned on the electricity and laid in a supply of champagne.  Ralph can’t contact Rose directly to ask if she’s responsible without arousing the suspicions of Mama Toller.

When the men drive out to the villa, they find a maid who claims that Ralph was there last night (he claims he wasn’t.)  Worse, they find the corpse of Ms. Clonec in an upstairs bedroom.  There are multiple potential murder weapons in the room, but are any of them what actually caused her death?  If Ralph’s telling the truth, then it’s a pretty sweet frame job, but who would do this, and why?  Good thing famous police detective Bencolin has been called out of retirement for this one last  case!

John Dickson Carr (1906-1977) was considered a master of the “locked room” mystery, where a crime seems impossible, but this one (the fifth and last Bencolin book) isn’t so much a locked room, as one with too many and contradictory clues that Bencolin must sift through.  At one point early on, he declares that he knows who done it, but not why or how–a couple of chapters later, new evidence turns it upside down, and now he claims to know why and how, but no longer who!

While the puzzle pieces are being assembled, Richard tries to act in the best interests of his client while falling in love with Magda.  This romance subplot is possibly the least necessary element of the book, and comes across rushed and forced.  Much more fun are the antics of newspaper reporter and amateur sleuth Jean-Baptiste Robinson, who keeps guessing almost right.  (He also sports a Hitler mustache, which in 1937 was just eccentric, but a couple of years later would have gotten him lynched.)

The climax is a high-stakes card game where Richard must play Basset, a lost game of kings, to reveal the final clue Bencolin needs to prove who murdered Rose Clonec.  This ramps up the suspense considerably  as Richard doesn’t know whether he needs to win or lose to achieve the detective’s goal.

This isn’t Carr’s best work, but is a fun, light read; worth looking up at your local library if you enjoy older mysteries.

Book Review: Four Sided Triangle

Book Review: Four Sided Triangle by William F. Temple

Suppose for a moment that you had access to a device that would create an exact duplicate of any object placed inside.  What would you do with it?  Solve world hunger?  Commit massive art fraud?  Resolve your sexual attraction to your  best friend’s wife?  Yeah, that last one is the possibility we’re exploring here.

Four Sided Triangle

This 1949 novel is narrated by Dr. Harvey, one of the last old-fashioned country doctors in the village of Howdean.  He’s very specifically not possessed of a full scientific education, and would never pass muster in today’s technically-oriented medical profession (indeed, he’s already having trouble keeping up when he’s in his forties!)   But he is bright enough to realize that young Bill Leggett is a child prodigy.

Dr. Harvey acts as a mentor to the young genius as much as he can, and when Bill’s abusive and alcoholic father dies, gets himself appointed Bill’s guardian.  He sponsors Bill’s further education, and secures the lad a scholarship to Cambridge.  At university, Bill meets and becomes friends with Robin Heath, who as it turns out is the son of the  lord of the shire Howdean is located in.  Robin is much more conventional in his thinking than Bill, and not nearly as brilliant, but is a good steady problem-solver who complements Bill’s impatience well.

With a loan from Rob’s father, the two young men start a research laboratory (“the Dump”) together on the outskirts of Howdean.  While they are pursuing their esoteric goals, Dr. Harvey is called upon to aid a young woman who’s taken a drug overdose.  This is Lena, a beautiful (of course) lass with an artistic bent, a fervor for creation, and no noticeable artistic or musical spark.  She can play other people’s compositions competently, and is good at art and color theory, but whenever she tries to create something new, the result is a fiasco.  Thus her attempt at suicide.

Dr. Harvey realizes that Lena needs a completely new endeavor to distract her from fatalistic thoughts, and convinces Bill and Rob to take her on as a sort of housekeeper and general assistant.  This works swimmingly.  The young men both take a fancy to Lena, Bill’s soaring imagination and Rob’s common sense working together to restore her love of life, and her bright spirit (and a spot of much-needed cash) allowing the Reproducer to become functional.

Things go well for a while, with the Reproducer bringing the young scientists renown and steady paychecks.  Dr. Harvey’s share of the enterprise even allows him to take early retirement from active medical practice.  But just as Bill is ready to propose to Lena, Lena proposes to Rob, and the latter two get married.

Bill does not take this well, but he has a plan.  He’s been working on a way to allow the Reproducer to duplicate living beings.  If there were another Lena, then she could marry him and everything would be hunky-dory!  Yeah.  The obvious objections are raised, but the somewhat selfless Lena becomes convinced that her feelings of friendship for Bill could deepen into love given time.

So it is that a second Lena is created, named Dorothy, and marries Bill.  Unfortunately, it turns out that Dorothy is too identical to Lena, and is unable to turn off her love for Rob, the man she remembers as her husband.  She cares deeply for Bill, but the stress of pretending to love him is driving her to despair.

In a twist of fate, Bill blows himself and the Reproducer up with an attempt at creating a nuclear power plant, being just a little too impatient for Rob to return with a safety device.  This leaves Dorothy free to reveal her true feelings, and Lena wants to share Rob with her as they have identical emotions.  Unfortunately, Rob is very conventional when it comes to monogamy, and nixes the idea.

Sometime later, there is another accident, leaving one of the women dead and the other amnesiac, but which is which?  Rob cannot love Dorothy, no matter how identical to Lena she might be.  Dr. Harvey discovers a clue in Bill’s papers that should allow them to settle the matter one way or the other….

The good:  Since the plot depends heavily on the personalities of the people involved, the characterization is much more in-depth than was common for science fiction novels of the time.  The author makes it believable that the characters make decisions believing they will make things better, but instead make them worse.

Bill, as a survivor of childhood abuse, physical, emotional and (all but said outright) sexual, has difficulties forming normal social relationships.  When he finds the one woman he wants to be with forever unavailable, it is unimaginable to him to find another love.  This one was so hard to work up to!  His impatience and willingness to overlook important social cues also play a large part in the tragedy.

Lena had a stage as a feral child, and has learned to make her own decisions, hide her feelings, and not ask for nor expect help.  But she’s also very tender-hearted towards others, and willing to make any sacrifice for those she loves.  Ditto for Dot.

Rob is very much the conventional English gentleman, which is great as long as there are conventional English gentleman things that need doing.  He’s reliable and steady, and good husband material.  But if there’s an ethical dilemma where his code of honor gives contradictory results, or it’s an unprecedented situation, Rob is at a total loss.

Dr. Harvey’s lack of science smarts means that the author can get away with never having to fully explain how the Reproducer actually works; just describing the end product, without having to worry about plausibility.

Not so good:  Period sexism–it’s mentioned more than once that women just aren’t interested in science (always excepting Madame Curie), and Dr. Harvey believes that Lena’s creative impulse would be best put to use in making a family (i.e. children) and she comes to believe the same.

Also, some science fiction cliches:  There’s only ever one Reproducer; Bill and Rob never patent it nor do they seem to publish any work explaining the principles behind it–one part is even revealed after the fact to be a “black box” that Bill installed without telling Rob how it worked or how to fix it.  Yet they are able to make a decent living from renting out the use of the Reproducer without anyone trying to steal their work or having the government confiscate it or demand proof of concept.

And some readers are just not going to like the ending, telling you now.

Still, if tragic romance with a science fiction twist is your thing, I think this one is well worth seeking out.

The edition I read was the 1951 Galaxy Science Fiction reprint, which was done using the same presses as their monthly magazine.  It’s unabridged, so has small type to fit it in the available page count, and the cover is glossy  but flimsy.  You might be able to find a paperback edition in better shape.

The novel was also turned into a 1953 movie by Hammer Studios, a precursor to the full-fledged horror films they were soon to move into.  It simplified the ending somewhat, making it less ambiguous.  Here’s a clip:

Book Review: The Sculthorpe Murder

Book Review: The Sculthorpe Murder by Karen Charlton

Disclaimer:  I received a Kindle download of this book as a Goodreads giveaway for the purpose of writing this review.  No other compensation was offered or requested.

The Sculthorpe Murder

The year is 1810, and Bow Street Runner Detective Stephen Lavender has been called from his native London to Northamptonshire.  It seems that an elderly man, William Sculthorpe, has been robbed and murdered.  The most likely suspects are a gang known as the Panthers, whom the local authorities have been unable to put their hands upon.  But when Lavender and his friend Horse Constable Ned Woods investigate at the request of a wealthy noblewoman, they find clues that suggest otherwise.  Most notably, the testimony of Sculthorpe’s son Billy who actually saw the murderers.  But he’s an unreliable witness who talks about “dark elves”, so has been mostly ignored.

This is the third Detective Lavender mystery, and I have not read the previous volumes.  According to the author’s notes, her main character is loosely based on the life and activities of a real Stephen Lavender, who was an officer of the Bow Street magistrates.  Likewise, this book’s case is based on one Mr. Lavender actually solved, though Ms. Charlton took liberties with even the bare bones account provided by historical records.

Billy Sculthorpe has Down syndrome (called “cretinism” in the story because Dr. Down hadn’t even been born yet, let alone started studying the condition.)   Lavender quickly realizes that despite his moderate mental disability, and a vivid imagination fed by spooky stories his recently deceased Mum had told him, Billy is a talented artist and has a good memory.  Billy’s testimony leads the detectives to discover clues about William Sculthorpe’s actual past and other possible motivations for his murder.

The sleepy village of Middleton and its surroundings turn out to have many dark secrets that get turned up by the murder investigation, multiplying the number of suspects.  There are even ties back to London, which allows Lavender’s love interest Magdalena and other city-bound characters to make an appearance.  Meanwhile, Constable Woods finds his own past catching up with him.

As often happens with historical mysteries, Stephen Lavender as the protagonist is perhaps just a little too enlightened for the times he’s living in, believing in religious tolerance and treating the women in his life with respect for their intelligence and opinions.  Woods is a bit more believable as a person of the early Nineteenth Century, but not so much so as to make him unsympathetic.

I found the solution to the mystery satisfying; genre-savvy readers will spot one of the murderers very early on, and clues as to how it was done are abundant.  Much of the last part of the book is Detective Lavender negotiating just how  many of the crimes he’s uncovered must come to light, and which must face justice of a more subtle sort.

Possible trigger issues:  There’s some discussion of spousal abuse and animal abuse in the backstory, including the fact that it was even more difficult to get out of an abusive marriage in the Eighteenth Century than it is today.  There are some slurs hurled by less sympathetic characters towards Billy because of his condition, a bit of slut-shaming, and anti-Catholic slurs.

Recommended to fans of the historical mystery sub-genre.

Movie Review: When Marnie Was There

Movie Review: When Marnie Was There directed by Hiromasa Yonebayashi

Anna is an orphan with asthma and alienation issues.  When she is sent to a rural village for the fresh air, Anna believes her foster parents are just dumping her on their friends  for the summer.  But the area certainly isn’t a bad place to be, and her hosts are gracious.  Anna starts making sketches of the nearby Marsh House.

When Marnie Was There

Anna is told that the Marsh House is long abandoned, and when she peeps in the windows, it certainly appears to be.  But sometimes there are lights, and a girl named Marnie that seems very interested in meeting Anna.  Are Anna’s experiences just dreams by a lonely girl…or is Marnie very real after all?

People who are only slightly acquainted with anime might think it is only kiddie shows designed to sell toys and lurid sex & violence shows for “mature viewers”, but Japanese animators also have a long tradition of creating adaptations of classic children’s literature.  In this case, it’s a relatively obscure British book by Joan G. Robinson, done by Studio Ghibli (Spirited Away).

The setting is swapped from Norfolk to rural Japan, but this does little violence to the story.  Indeed, Anna’s unusually blue eyes become part of the reason she feels like an outsider, and she’s very sensitive about them.

There are some mildly scary bits, and Marnie’s background turns out to be quite sad, so parents of younger viewers should watch this with them.  But it’s a gentle story that unfolds slowly and to a certain degree predictably.  Anna learns that she isn’t as unloved as she thought, that she has connections, and even becomes able to make friends in the ordinary world.

As usual with Ghibli, the art is beautiful, with many views of lived-in houses, watery landscapes and rolling green hills.  The Japanese voice acting is excellent, and there are some fine voices in the dub as well.  There’s some odd staging of the first few scenes between Marnie and Anna that make it come off like the start of a romantic relationship; presumably this is due to Japanese cultural differences, because that is not what Marnie has in mind.

Worth looking into if you have enjoyed other Ghibli films, or have children around twelve (Anna’s age) to watch it with.  Also consider reading the book; the movie gave it a boost, so you may be able to find it at finer libraries.

 

Book Review: Kaiju: Lords of the Earth

Book Review: Kaiju: Lords of the Earth edited by Essel Pratt

Kaiju (“strange beast”) is primarily a subgenre of the monster movie that became codified in Japan.  They’re mostly gigantic monsters that are nigh-unstoppable by conventional armaments, and run around destroying cities or fighting other giant monsters.  The seeds of the story type were sown in the original King Kong movie, but it was Gojira (“Godzilla”) that codified it, and inspired most of the later examples.

Kaiju: Lords of the Earth

This is a collection of sixteen short stories and poems on the theme of kaiju, all appearing here for the first time.  The book opens with “Call of the Vailathi” by John Ledger, a poem that cautions that even when the kaiju is on your side, it is still a destructive force.  …At least it has a rhyme structure, that’s good.  The closing tale is “Unleashed in the East” as fracking releases a monster from the Java Sea, and two airline pilots must make a decision between saving themselves and saving the world.

I really enjoyed “The Wolf and the Rabbit” by Alice J. Black, in which a disaffected pub worker connects with another random survivor, and finds the will to do what must be done in this crisis.  If the monster seems too easily dispatched, there are hints it wasn’t the only one.

Also good is “Frankentop” by Amanda M. Lyons, which is told from the perspective of an artificial intelligence that both wants to be loved, and to protect itself.  Unfortunately, the latter is easier than the former.  Internet references abound.

“I Awoke…Wutoomba!” by Roy C. Booth homages the Marvel monster comics of the late Fifties and early Sixties.  Jack Lieiber, writer of fantastic fiction, travels to a South Seas island and runs into an assortment of stock characters, including the title monster.  This one is mostly going to please Marvel fanboys who get all the in-jokes.

Most anthologies have a dud or two, but seldom to the level of “The Plastic Centipede” by R.T. Sirk.  The monster itself is a cool idea, a giant centipede made of discarded mannequin parts and the vengeful spirits of a gangster’s victims.  But spellchecker typos, misplaced commas, badly structured sentences and characterization by telling, not showing make this story come off like the first draft of a fanfic, rather than a professionally published story.  This is clearly a failure of editing, as these banes of small press publishing should have been caught early on.

“A Day at the Racetrack” by Essel Pratt is also sub-par, as waste in a stock car racetrack’s inner pond turns animals giant-sized.  Regional stereotypes are played for broad humor, as are potty jokes.

The rest are decent enough stories.   Due to the very uneven quality, I would recommend this book only to kaiju fanatics or fans of a particular author for that one story.

 

Comic Book Review: Essential Tomb of Dracula, Volume 2

Comic Book Review: Essential Tomb of Dracula, Volume 2 mostly written by Marv Wolfman and art by Gene Colan.

When the Comics Code restrictions on horror were loosened in the 1970s, DC primarily went in for horror anthology comics, while Marvel Comics based entire series around horrific heroes and villains.  One of these was the classic (and public domain) character of Vlad Tepes, aka Count Dracula.

Essential Tomb of Dracula Volume 2

This series revealed that Bram Stoker’s book (highly recommended if you haven’t read it, by the way) was highly fictionalized, and Dracula had not in fact finally died at the end of it, only being very inconvenienced.  He had been various places, doing various things, temporarily being put of commission now and then…and this storyline opened with him once again being awakened to start his reign of terror anew.

Opposing the Lord of Vampires was a crew of vampire hunters including Quincy Harker (the son of Jonathan and Mina), now an elderly man confined to a wheelchair by injuries received in past battles with Dracula; Rachel van Helsing (great-granddaughter of Professor van Helsing) a crossbow-wielder who wasn’t always as effective as she’d like; Frank Drake, a descendant of Dracula (before becoming a vampire) who had wasted his wealth and had to man up over the course of the series; and Taj Nital, an Indian man who had been rendered mute when Dracula injured his throat.  Independent of them were Blade, who only hunted Dracula because he hated all vampires due to the murder of his mother by Deacon Frost, and Hannibal King, a detective that Deacon Frost had turned into a vampire, who avoided taking blood from living humans.

Of course, Dracula didn’t just have vampire hunters after him, but people who either wanted to become lord of all vampires themselves or otherwise exploit him.  The most persistent of these was Doctor Sun, a Chinese scientist who’d been turned into a disembodied brain hooked up to a computer, who wanted to take over the world.

At the start of this volume, Dracula learns of the current whereabouts of an artifact called the Chimera, which re-sparks his desire to conquer the world himself.  (He’d had to put that on hold as a vampire army large enough to take over would promptly drink the rest of humanity to extinction, and then where would they be?)  Fortunately for the world, Dracula is not the only one after the artifact, and it ends up smashed.

Dracula has noticed his powers waning, and this leads him to a near-final confrontation with Quincy Harker, before learning that it is in fact Doctor Sun behind it, and the action moves to Boston.  There the cast adds nebbish “true vampire story” writer Harold H. Harold and lovely but ditsy secretary Aurora Rabinowitz, who act as comic relief.

After the Doctor Sun situation is resolved, Dracula takes control of a local Satanist cult and marries a woman named Domini, who he believes will give him a proper heir.  (The leader of the Satanists, of course, has other plans.)

Mixed throughout this volume are soap-opera subplots involving the various supporting cast, and interludes of Dracula’s adventures in other times and places.  Marv Wolfman’s writing is often excellent, but he sometimes doesn’t consult previous issues, resulting in some minor continuity glitches.  Gene Colan’s art is more consistently outstanding, and fits the mood well, especially in this black and white reprint.  (Some stories from the Giant-Size side series are included, with art by the less impressive but very competent Don Heck.)

Make no mistake, Dracula is the main villain here, and rare is the issue where he does not murder at least one innocent person just to remind us of that.  Much of his time is taken up with petty revenge against people who have crossed him and when he acts against other villains, it’s usually out of pride or personal vendetta.  Every once in a while, he does show a moment of kindness, but the door soon slams shut when his darker nature prevails.  Because he’s the title character, Dracula has what TV Tropes calls “Joker Immunity”; he can never be permanently killed off, only temporarily thwarted, so the heroes seem ineffectual.  (Quincy Harker broods about this frequently.)

These stories do take place in the Marvel Universe, though this series avoids most of the implications of that.  Brother Voodoo helps Frank Drake through a bad patch in his life, and Doctor Strange actually temporarily kills Dracula (but is hypnotized not to notice it’s not permanent until later.)

In addition to the expected violence (but relatively little gore–the Comics Code was still in effect), Dracula’s attacks on women are often treated in a sexualized manner.  There are some instances of suicide, both voluntary and forced.  Dracula is also depicted as being racist (mostly against Blade) and sexist (he is not at all kind to the memory of Lucy Westerna.)

And speaking of sexism, one story includes a woman who’s a bit of a “straw feminist”; the owner of a fashion house who only hires women even if a man would be more competent at the job (except one dress designer who might be gay given the coding) and who has an enormous grudge against the various men who tried to keep her down.  Dracula agrees to kill her enemies in exchange for information she can get more efficiently than he, but leaves her in a sticky situation at the end of the story.

Despite often high melodrama, there are some very well-written moments as well.

Recommended for vampire comics fans, Blade fans who want to see his early adventures, and those who enjoy Gene Colan’s art.

Book Review: The Queen of Zamba

Book Review: The Queen of Zamba by L. Sprague de Camp (Also published as Cosmic Manhunt)

It started out as a normal missing person case.  Victor Hasselborg was hired to find runaway heiress Julnar Batruni.  Her trail is easy to pick up, as she used her own name to buy tickets off-planet with her lover, one Anthony Fallon.  Victor pursues them to the distant world of Krishna, where he runs into a snag.

The Queen of Zamba

It seems that Krishna is under a technological interdict, to prevent the warlike natives from gaining the ability to destroy themselves (and others) before their civilizations advance to more peaceful methods of conflict resolution.  Thus Victor must shed most of his advanced equipment and disguise himself as a native to search for the lovers.  Can a man used to automatic pistols and fast cars survive with a sword and aya-drawn buggy?  And once he does find his targets, will he survive his encounter with the Queen of Zamba?

This story is part of the Viagens Interplanetarias setting, created by Mr. de Camp as a way to use many of the tropes of “planetary romance” in a more plausible way than had previously been the case.  (Edgar Rice Burroughs, the founder of the subgenre with A Princess of Mars, had focused more on the fiction side of “science fiction” and most authors writing in the same vein had stuck with that.)   So the Krishnans, while appearing close enough to Terrans so that they can easily disguise themselves as each other, can make whoopee with humans but not babies.  There’s a reasonable explanation for using swords and riding animals when more technologically advanced items exist.  And our protagonists can’t just zip between worlds–thanks to relativistic effects, voyages that take months for the traveling characters take years for the people left behind.  Even with improved human longevity and safe suspended animation, normal people with settled lives aren’t keen on repeated space travel.

Thus our protagonist, Victor Hasselborg.  In some ways, he’s a typical fictional private eye.  Disappointed in love, recovering alcoholic, tough talker, will kill if he has to.  But he’s also a germ-phobic hypochondriac who is skittish around attractive women who seem a bit too interested, and none too interested in the adventurous life.

There’s also some inventiveness in the general setting–after World War 3, the Soviet Union was gone and the United States crippled to the point it had to merge with Canada to survive.  And Brazil became the world’s leading power, aided by having invented starships.  On the other hand, people still smoke cigars in this 22nd Century, and the number one occupation of Earthwomen is “housewife.”  (A Krishnan woman expresses her desire to become one as the rumors she hears of Earth romanticize the position.)

During the story, Victor runs into treachery and eventually must team up with another Terran in disguise to prevent technological horror from being unleashed on Krishna.

Originally written in the late 1940s, this story was reprinted by Ace Books under the title Cosmic Manhunt and with the ethnicity of one of the characters changed due to politics.  This “Asimov’s Choice” edition restores the original title and character.

To fill out the volume, a longish story entitled “Perpetual Motion” has been added.  Con artist Felix Borel comes to Krishna to fleece the natives with a twist on the technology ban.  He can’t introduce any innovation that is beyond current Krishnan science or technology, but since perpetual motion machines are impossible, they don’t count, right?  Felix is not a good person, though he can twist events to make himself look better–right up until his luck runs out.  This story shares a minor character with the main event.

This is light adventure and fast reading; even with the added plausibility, you shouldn’t think about the science too hard.  Recommended for planetary romance fans.  There are quite a few Viagens Interplanetarias stories; I also recommend Rogue Queen if you can find it.

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