While working in South Africa, Haggard became acquainted with a number of professional hunters/explorers/adventurers who influenced his later fiction; his hero Alan Quatermain is based on two of these in particular: Frederick Selous and Frederick Russell Burnham. He eventually returned to England and became a lawyer, but his real interest was in writing tales of adventure. None of these were particularly successful until King Solomon's Mines, which became an immediate bestseller. Haggard eventually wrote a slew of sequels/prequels as well as a number of other novels. But King Solomon's Mines remains his best-known work. Incidentally, you might recall that I mentioned the movie Gunga Din in my first post on this novel; Haggard was very good friends with Rudyard Kipling, who of course wrote the 1890 poem upon which the film is loosely based.
I'm finally getting back to King Solomon's Mines, at long last. First: a little background information... the novel was written in 1885 by Henry Rider Haggard. Haggard was an Englishman who had started his working career as an assistant secretary to the Lieutenant-Governor of the British colony in South Africa. Stationed in Pretoria at the time (1877) he actually read the proclamation which announced the British annexation of the Boer's Republic of the Transvaal. And we all know where that ended up. While working in South Africa, Haggard became acquainted with a number of professional hunters/explorers/adventurers who influenced his later fiction; his hero Alan Quatermain is based on two of these in particular: Frederick Selous and Frederick Russell Burnham. He eventually returned to England and became a lawyer, but his real interest was in writing tales of adventure. None of these were particularly successful until King Solomon's Mines, which became an immediate bestseller. Haggard eventually wrote a slew of sequels/prequels as well as a number of other novels. But King Solomon's Mines remains his best-known work. Incidentally, you might recall that I mentioned the movie Gunga Din in my first post on this novel; Haggard was very good friends with Rudyard Kipling, who of course wrote the 1890 poem upon which the film is loosely based. Haggard's novel is very much a product of its time. I know this phrase often has negative connotations, but I don't mean it that way. Oh, sure, you can definitely point out examples of paternalism in the book, and those who want to be offended will find ample reason to be, no doubt. Also, Mines was written at a time when no one thought twice about big game hunting- for pleasure and/or profit- so many will be equally horrified by the descriptions of elephants being shot down for their ivory tusks by men who are clearly enjoying themselves. King Solomon's Mines is one of the earliest examples of the "Lost World" genre of fiction, which became very popular in the late Victorian era. This term describes stories which are about discovering/exploring hidden or previously unknown (to Europeans) parts of the world; some other examples would be Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World, Kipling's The Man Who Would Be King, Jules Verne's Journey To The Center of the Earth, and Edgar Rice Burrough's Tarzan novels as well as his The Land That Time Forgot... to name a few. This is another reason why Mines is a product of it's time: it was written during an era when the British Empire was ascendant, and exploring (some would say exploiting) many places in the world previously inaccessible to Europeans... "Doctor Livingstone, I presume?" If you're of the mindset that British colonialism was the worst thing to ever happen, well, your enjoyment of this adventure story will probably be severely limited. I, however, regard it as a mixed bag... were there abuses and evils perpetrated by the Brits and other nations looking to expand their territories and gain land and resources? Of course- please point to any empire, nation, or people who were- or, indeed, are- free from fault in this regard. But, like so many other things in history, colonialism was complicated, with good things about it as well as bad. And to portray all Indians and Africans, etc., as hapless victims of European oppression is to be as paternalistic and condescending as these writers of Lost World fiction are often accused of being- I would argue, more so. This also displays a total willful ignorance of history and human nature the world over. And, despite the criticisms leveled at him, H. Rider Haggard's depiction of Africans in this book is actually rather nuanced... something which I'll discuss more fully in part two of this review.
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I was chatting with one of my nephews at Sunday dinner, and he was describing a bit of the plot of the book he is currently reading: Cue For Treason written by English author Geoffrey Trease in 1940. I have never read it, but his account of it- two runaway children in Elizabethan England who end up working in theatre in London and meeting William Shakespeare- rather reminded me of a children's novel set in the same time period which I'm very fond of: Master Skylark, written by John Bennet in 1897. Related Posts:“There are some people who cannot bear a party of pleasure." -Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility They'll eventually come for everything you enjoy. I speak of course, of the 'moral busybodies' as C.S. Lewis termed them, who are not just suspicious, but actively hostile whenever the unwashed, unenlightened masses are seen to be having a good time. I'm sure a psychologist could come up with all sorts of technical terms for why these people are such puritanical joy-kills; I operate under the assumption that, their personal lives devoid of meaning and fulfillment, they seek to fill that emptiness with power and control over others. This power can be used to try to pull everyone else down to their level of sour misery. The latest victim of the Extreme Umbrage Brigade is of course Roald Dahl or, more specifically, his children's books. Dahl himself has been looked at askance for years- the dude seems to have been more than a little antisemitic. But he didn't put that stuff in his kids books... James and the Giant Peach is hardly Mein Kampf... and if you're going to toss out every author who had dicey personal views, well, there's not going to be much left to read. I mean, I love Pygmalion but have no illusions about George Bernard Shaw's crap politics. I personally have no sentimental childhood attachment to Dahl's books; I didn't read them as a child. We didn't have any copies at home, our rural school had a rather limited library, and there was no public library in our community. The school eventually got at least some of Dahl's books because I remember a few of my younger siblings reading them, but I never really became acquainted with any of his works until I was reading them with various nephews and nieces. I've never even seen either of the Willy Wonka movie adaptations, though I did on one occasion see the film version of Matilda. So when I object to Dahl's books having every word that might be deemed offensive to someone, somewhere edited out, it is on principle, not some great affection for the man or his tales. People have been sharing the altered parts of various books online this week; not only are the reasons behind the edits offensive, the edits themselves are objectively terrible as well. Take the example below: Dahl's phrase is a feisty warning issued by grandma, leaving the reader to wonder- and perhaps imagine- exactly what would happen. The replacement phrase from the "sensitivity reader" is a dry, boring lecture. Other changes include removing all references to various characters being fat, and any mention of the words 'black,' 'white', or 'brown'. Because the description of a character's brown teeth would cause a race riot apparently. Speaking of these sensitivity readers, what the heck- or perhaps a better question is why the heck- are they? Secular church ladies hired to read other peoples' work and ruthlessly eradicate anything that might give some amorphous group hurty feelings. I've always maintained that there is inherent dignity in any honest job done for honest pay; what these people do is not honest labour and they should be ashamed. They are facilitating backdoor censorship; there's no need to ban a book if you remove everything from it which you find objectionable or "problematic". The supposed adults responsible for this ridiculousness have either forgotten what it was like to be kids, were the prissiest children ever born, or just want to ensure that today's youth don't have the joy of reading that earlier generations enjoyed. And make no mistake, the politically correct edits are about the adults not the kids, because kids eat this stuff up. To my mind it's also a form of censorship if you change a book into something so prosy, dull, and badly-worded that no one wants to read it. And that's another thing: these are Roald Dahl's books, written as he chose to write them. It's downright insulting and disrespectful to his body of work to change his words to something so anodyne, mealymouthed, and forgettable. These days there are a lot of things which compete for kid's attention; the last thing we need is for children's literature to be so sanctimonious and stultifyingly boring that they avoid it like the plague. Also, it's time to stop teaching kids that they're so emotionally fragile that they can be victimized by a fictional description of a fat lady with a double chin. And to stop telling them that the proper response when they're offended by a book is to have said book- or at least parts of it- removed and destroyed. That's how we ended up with these idiot sensitivity readers to begin with. If a parent thinks a book is inappropriate for their children to read then they can certainly choose to not let them read it. If a child is reading a book which they don't enjoy, they have the very sensible option of putting it down and finding something else to read. Neither of these things requires the author's words to be edited and rewritten, thereby dictating to others what they are allowed to read and enjoy. The publishers, hit by a furious backlash for their proposed changes to Dahl's books, have backtracked somewhat. They are promising to release the new politically correct versions but also the classic, unedited ones as well. But before this announcement was made, our local Costco made the most of the controversy by quickly putting out a display of Dahl's books which people were snatching up in fear of them not being available for much longer. My sister sent around a message that she was buying the above set for her kids, and several of her friends asked her to pick up sets for them as well. One can only hope the originals continue to sell briskly and that the edited versions when they arrive are a miserable failure. We may not be able to stop these people from repeated sleazy attempts to ruin classic books- and movies- with their woke claptrap, but we can hit them where it'll hurt the most: their pocketbooks. Related Posts:One of my nephew's birthdays is tomorrow so I looked through my fabric stash (yes, I have one; don't judge me) and found a bit of Superman fabric I had left over from something I'd made a few years ago. There was enough, when combined with some red and black cotton, to make a quilted cushion to which I added a book pocket in the back. After all, if you're going to settle down for a quick repose, you ought to have a cushion to rest your head upon and a book at hand as well. This is the book which I've tucked into the pocket: The Great Brain by John D. Fitzgerald. The Great Brain books are a series set in 1896-1898 Utah and are loosely based on the childhood of the author (who lived from 1906-1988). The books are narrated by John D. and center on his older brother Tom; John D. Fitzgerald's older brother was also named Tom. He omitted a couple of other siblings and changed the name of another brother from William to Sweyn and, as the books progress (there are seven in total- well, eight, but the last one was written after Fitzgerald's death using rough notes he had of an outline for it) a fictional adopted brother named Frankie is added to the family. I had- well, still have, to be honest- a number of these books from my childhood though they are considerably battered now, not only from my use and that of various siblings, but more recently from a new generation of nephews and nieces. As you can see, the cover of my copy of the first in the series is missing, victim of years of use and lost while out on loan a few years ago. Also, despite the library tag on the copy of #4, I didn't lift it from one; I got it in a sale of discards... the library probably had to make room for Heather Has Two Mommies, Three Therapists, and A Prescription Drug Addiction or whatever it's called. I also don't own a copy of the fifth- or eighth- book. I should mention that, in addition to the other attractions of the Great Brain books, they are illustrated by the always excellent Mercer Mayer, probably more well known for his Little Critter books. But his work on the illustrations in this series is just great. The only book which he didn't work on was the final one, not actually written by Fitzgerald. As mentioned, these stories are narrated by young John D. mostly about his older brother Tom who, possessing a Great Brain, at various times manages to hoodwink, outsmart, and even swindle not only his naive brother, but the rest of his family, other children in the town, and most of the townspeople as well. He occasionally also uses his powers for good instead of evil, but generally has an ulterior motive for doing so. The books are really funny, and also very relatable to anyone who grew up with an older sibling- or siblings- who delighted in putting one over on you. I speak from experience, being one of nine children. That being said, the books also deal with some very serious- even heavy- topics, albeit from a child's view and understanding- death, sickness, bullying, pain and loss. One story of this sort which particularly sticks in my memory from The Great Brain is that of Abie, the only Jewish man who lives in their little town, which is majority Mormon, with some Protestants and Catholics (the Fitzgeralds are Catholic). Though well liked enough- he runs a small shop- no one really knows him well. They are vaguely aware that his shop isn't doing great now that there are a lot of competitors in town, but no one really worries, because everyone knows that Jews have money; it's been rumoured for years that Abie has a strongbox full of gold coins. So no one raises the alarm when the elderly man steadily becomes frailer, even falling down in the street on a couple of occasions. Then one day he doesn't open his shop, and the concerned townspeople enter his living quarters to find him dead in his bed. To their horror, the doctor tells them that Abie starved to death; he was too proud to ask for help though his neighbours- of all religious stripes- would gladly have given it, and they never thought to ask because, subconsciously, it never occurred to them that a Jew could be poor. When I think about books like this from my childhood, and what frequently passes for "children's literature" today, I can only shake my head... and lend and give as many copies of the good stuff as I can. Related Posts:My sister and her husband are now reading this aloud with their four boys, who are loving it: “Arthur’s hall rang with silent lament, sorrow for so good a man as Gawain, on so hard a quest. But Gawain only smiled: ‘Should I waste my time with fear? Whether Pleasant, or wild, fate must be put to the test.” “His five fingers never failed him; and all his earthly hope was in Christ’s wounds on the cross, as our creed tells us; and whenever he stood in battle his mind was fixed above all things, on the five joys that Mary had of Jesus, from which all his courage came..” Related Posts:My sister's boys have been big fans of Lloyd Alexander's works ever since I loaned them my copies of The Chronicles of Prydain, as well as the Westmark trilogy to the eldest. They've since picked up several of his other books and my sister messaged a couple weeks ago to say she had found a copy of The Town Cat & Other Tales, a collection of short stories by Alexander, while she was in a thrift shop. They are currently reading it aloud. Then, this past Saturday, I stopped by a thrift store after doing my grocery shopping to peruse the selection of books, movies, and LPs. I found a copy of another book by Lloyd Alexander which I had never heard of before: The El Dorado Adventure, which is apparently also part of a series. I bought it and gave it to the nephews after church on Sunday to add to their growing collection. I also found a copy of Robert Louis Stevenson's Kidnapped in perfect condition so also picked that up. Of course I already own it- it was actually one of the books I took with me when I spent three weeks hiking in the Scottish Highlands- but it's always good to have an extra copy around to gift to a nephew or niece. After all, it's a great tale of shipwreck and sword fighting, scheming relatives and charming rogues, and a young lad on the run, pursued by both criminals and the law. For myself, I picked up this record to add to my as yet rather meagre collection: the original cast recording of My Fair Lady. For my money, Julie Andrews was far and away the best Eliza Doolittle to ever have that part in the musical- that I've heard, anyway. The film version doesn't count of course as it wasn't even Audrey Hepburn singing... it was the always reliable Marnie Nixon. Rex Harrison was nothing to write home about as Henry Higgins- vocally, that is; his acting is fine but he can't sing. Here's Julie Andrews appearing on The Ed Sullivan Show as Eliza: Related Posts: The three men start making their way out of the mountains, battered, hungry, and dehydrated. They find their way back to Infadoos and the other tribesmen, who are overjoyed to see they've survived. After they recuperate for a couple of days they go back to try to find the hole they crawled out of so they can reenter the mines, but cannot find it. It has rained, washing away their trail, and the entire area is riddled with hundreds of holes. It soon becomes clear that they'll never find their back that way. They then attempt to reenter through the Chamber of the Dead, but the great stone door which crushed Gagool is immovable. Eventually they give up and head back to the village. Quatermain hates the thought of all the riches they are leaving behind, but is comforted by the thought that he still has most of the jewels he stuffed in his coat, pockets, and basket. Ten days later they are back in Loos, where Ignosi is busily setting up his government now that he's king. He is eager, however, to hear of their adventures at the Mines. When they relate what happened with the hag Gagool, Ignosi calls in a very aged elder of the tribe. He questions the elderly man about his knowledge of Gagool; he tells Ignosi that Gagool was a decrepit old crone as long as he can remember- when he was a child- and apparently even in the time of his grandfather. They consider the impossibility of this, and Ignosi says that it's just as well she's dead, as she was a wicked, uncanny creature who would no doubt have eventually tried to murder him as she had helped Twala kill his father. Quatermain then tell Ignosi that it is time for them to leave his land and return to their homes. Ignosi is dismayed at the thought of his friends and comrades leaving and offers them land, dwellings, even wives if they will stay. He becomes miffed when they turn these incentives down, but Quatermain explains that, just as Ignosi longed for the land of his fathers when he was living among the English, so they long to be among their own people, in their own land. Ignosi sees the truth of this, and loses his anger. He tells them that they will always be the only white men welcome in his lands then assigns some guides to lead them back through the mountains, explaining that he's learned there is a shorter, easier route than the one they took on the way there. The trip back is much less onerous when in the company of men who know where they're going. They are soon back at the edge of the desert, but this time carrying enough of water to make it to an oasis which Infadoos tells them about. Saying good-bye to their guides, they start across the sand and, three days later, come to a stream. Following it to the oasis it springs from, they are surprised to find a hut built under some fig trees there. As they stare at the unlikely sight, the door opens and a bearded white man with a pronounced limp comes out; there is an shocked exclamation from Sir Henry- it is his brother George, whom they had originally set out to find, and had given up for dead. Another man, Jim- a hunter who Quatermain knows slightly- is also there, having been George's guide when he started out looking for the Mines. After the two brothers embrace joyfully, George explains that, while seeking the Mines, a boulder crushed his leg. It took a long time to heal, and not well enough for him to survive the trip across the desert. They have been living at the oasis for two years, hoping for natives to travel by, but no one has. They were making plans, now that George was well enough and had food and shelter to survive, for Jim to leave and attempt to find help. Which is of course, not necessary now. Staying the night at the hut, they relate the tale of their adventures to George and Jim. George remarks that at least they came away with a lot of riches to make up for all their troubles. Sir Henry laughs and says that the jewels all belong to Quatermain and Good, since that was the agreement they made at the beginning of their quest. Later Quatermain talks to Good and they agree to share their treasure with George as well. The following day they start across the desert again, although it's a lot slower now because they have to support George. Once they reach the edge of the desert, they retrieve their oxen and other equipment from the native farmer who was holding them, which make the rest of the journey back much easier. Six months later, Allan Quartermain- who is relating all of this to his son in a letter- receives a missive from Sir Henry (he and Captain Good have since returned to England). Sir Henry tells him that he's had the jewels assessed and they are worth a staggering amount of money, so Allan, Good, and George are now rich beyond belief. Henry writes that Good has bought himself a lot of fancy clothes and is swanking around London. He also says that he invited Quatermain's son Harry to his estate for a week's shooting party and quite likes the lad. His purpose in writing is to urge Quatermain to return to England and buy a house near Sir Henry's estate. Then, he says, Quatermain can finish writing the tale of their adventures (which he's been working on) and they can find a publisher it. As the novel closes out, Allan Quatermain decides to book passage on a steamer and head home to England. So that is the end of King Solomon's Mines; in my final post about the novel, I'll discuss my thoughts and opinions about the book. Related Posts:One of my brothers-in-law has decided to start an online book club and of course I was like, "Where do I sign up?!" He's kind of into the long-haired stuff, so I wasn't too surprised when his first book pick was a Russian novel which I hadn't heard of before: Laurus, written in 2012 by Eugene Vodolazkin and translated into English in 2015. It was a bestseller and won the Big Book Award, The Leo Tolstoy Yasnaya Polyana Award, And the Read Russia Award, so it's a little embarrassing that I don't at least know of it. In my defense, however, most Russian literature I've read is at least 100 years old... Laurus is set in the 15th-16th centuries and is the tale of a young healer who sets out on a pilgrimage looking for redemption. That's all I know right now; I didn't want to read anything else about it so as not to accidentally see spoilers. We aren't getting started right away because, while I downloaded my copy, several others have ordered hard copies online and have to wait for them to arrive. These days with books I haven't read before, my policy is generally to download it, then buy a physical copy if I like it well enough. So we shall see. Related Posts: When we last left our intrepid explorers, they were trapped in the dark with Foulata's dead body, her murderer (Gagool) squished under the fallen stone door. At first they try shouting, hoping that someone- somehow- will hear them, but they eventually give this up as there is no response and it's making them need water more often. As they sit in the dark, propped against the chests of riches, the irony is not lost on Quatermain that they are in possession of a king's ransom in gold and jewels, which is useless now to them and which they'd gladly exchange for a chance at life. Quatermain admits that he and Good give way to despair but that Sir Henry maintains a very British stiff upper lip, advising them to pray and not abandon hope. Suddenly it occurs to Quatermain that, though they've been trapped in this chamber for many hours, the air is not getting thin or even becoming stale. This means that fresh air is somehow getting into the chamber, and that means an opening of some sort. The three men start feeling around the room in the dark until, after about an hour, Captain Good calls out that he feels a draft coming from one of the floor stones. Quatermain strikes one of the few remaining matches and in the flare of light, they see an inset stone ring, like a handle. It takes the combined strength of all three of them pulling on the ring, but eventually the floor stone lifts, revealing a stone stairwell. Excited, the three men prepare to head down the steps. Quatermain gathers up what little food and water rations they have left; there is, he realises, plenty of room in the almost empty basket to stuff a lot of gold and jewels. He proceeds to do so, then also fills his coat and trouser pockets. He suggests the others might want to do the same, but Sir Henry doesn't care about them and just wants to leave their stone prison, while Captain Good is quietly saying a last good-bye to the loyal unto death Foulata. They then head cautiously down the dark stairwell, finding themselves in a narrow tunnel at the bottom of it. They are perplexed as to which direction they should go, but determine which direction the air is coming from by the blowing of another of Quatermain's matches. They head in that direction but are soon very confused and lost because they find themselves in a convoluted maze of tunnels, which are the mine works. After some hours of fruitless searching, the men pause, exhausted and discouraged, and consume the last of their food and water. As they silently contemplate their likely demise, Quatermain suddenly hears a faint sound and realises that it's running water. Taking heart, the men head for the sound and soon find themselves at an underground river. Here they refresh themselves, drinking and washing, then head off again in search of a way out. Before long, Sir Henry sees a glimmer of light and, in a tunnel so small and narrow that they have to creep along on their hands and knees, they find a tiny hole no bigger than a small window which leads to the outside world. They squeeze through and find themselves under the starry night sky, barely having a moment's relief before the loose ground gives way under their feet and all three go tumbling downhill, landing in a heap some distance below. Quatermain has managed to hold on to the basket of riches, though some have spilled out. He hears Sir Henry yelling and finds him in the dark; they soon find Captain Good: he took a worse pummeling than they had and was unconscious, though they soon revive him. Incredulous and overjoyed that they've managed to escape the mines which almost became their tomb, the three men sit and wait for first light, watching the magnificent sunrise over the mountain peaks. Related Posts:We had our big family get together on New Years Day and exchanged our family gifts. Part of my gift was this book, one from Wodehouse's Blandings series: I was pleased to get it; I haven't actually read that many of the Blandings stories though I do own the first book in the series: I haven't started the new book yet, but according to the blurb on the back cover, someone tries to kidnap the Empress of Blandings (Lord Emsworth's prizewinning pig)... this should prove interesting. And funny. Related Posts: |
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