Noted British explorer serves up literary appetiser

Vikram and the Vampire; Classic Hindu Tales of Adventure, Magic, and Romance
Richard Francis Burton (Author), Isabel Burton (Editor)
Fiction 134 pages


Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton translated 10 volumes of the Arabian Nights proper, plus half as many volumes of supplemental material. However, his translation of Vikram and the Vampire only includes 11 of the original 25 stories. Not only is it a quicker read, its writing style is far less archaic than that of the Arabian Nights translation. Even so, it does not read like a contemporary bestseller, but, then again, it’s old stuff, but that adds to its charm.

This collection of folk tales, written in Sanskrit, and compiled in the 11th century, is the oldest known work to showcase stories collected around a framing device. As such, it predates other framed story collections, including the Arabian Nights, the Decameron, and the Canterbury Tales, by several centuries.

Perhaps King Vikram should not have given his promise to the yogi. Now it’s too late to withdraw it. He has agreed to retrieve a corpse, but there’s a catch — the corpse is possessed by a baital (or vetala) — an Indian demon or vampire. On the chosen night, Vikram and his son enter the cemetery where they find the vampire hanging upside down from a tree limb. After some effort, they capture the vampire, but it escapes. The vampire then strikes a deal with Vikram: He’ll allow himself to be carried while telling a story, but at its conclusion, a riddle will be asked. Once Vikram answers correctly, the vampire escapes. And so, story after story is told through the long night until finally Vikram is stumped for an answer.

The stories are witty, satirical and fantastic. In one, three suitors attempt to animate the remains of their intended bride. One carries her ashes, another carries her bones, and a third recites an incantation to bring her back to life. If they succeed in reviving the beauty, which suitor will marry her? Vikram knows and so will we.

In another story, a thief laughs during his execution. Why? Again, Vikram knows the answer. Yet, the vampire has another answer. Regardless, Vikram’s answer is close enough to allow the vampire to escape. Once again, Vikram must retrieve him from the tree limb in which he hangs in bat-like fashion.

In a story about a learned scholar and his three sons, ‘atheist’ receives four definitions. Of these, the most common is that an atheist is someone whose beliefs are different from one’s own. A bit of philosophical meandering follows, and then there’s a speech, “so stuffed with erudition that even the writer hardly understood it.” Such excesses of scholarship can only result in disaster. After the inevitable occurs, Vikram correctly names which of the four is the greatest fool.

The final story takes place several hundred years after Vikram’s death. Pale-skinned invaders will come from the north to conquer Vikram’s kingdom with “fire weapon(s), large and small tubes, which discharge flame and smoke, and bullets … And instead of using swords and shields, they will fix daggers to the ends of their tubes, and thrust with them like lances.” This reference to British soldiers makes one wonder if the original author, possibly Somadeva, was prophetic, or if, as N. M. Penzer claimed in 1924, Burton embellished the original with fictions of his own.

At the conclusion of the final story, the vampire allows Vikram to take him to the yogi, but not without first revealing the yogi’s evil purpose and the means of his defeat. Does Vikram defeat the yogi? You will have to read it for yourself.

Taiwan Folk Arts Museum

The Taiwan Folk Arts Museum was once the Koyama Hotel and Hot Spring. It also served as a Japanese officer’s club during the Second World War. Today the building and grounds have been restored to pristine condition and serve as beautiful examples of early twentieth century Japanese architecture.

The attractive two story structure hosts revolving folk art themed exhibits. We viewed a collection of embroidered baby carriers from southwest China. The mothers who made these carriers believed that the carriers took on aspects of her child’s spirit through long use. After the babies had outgrown them, mothers kept the carriers to remind themselves of the babies they’d raised. As treasured heirlooms, these carriers were rarely sold, but if sold, the ornamentation was generally removed prior to the sale. The fancy embroidery and trim was intact on the rare carriers displayed in this exhibit.

The Taiwan Folk Arts Museum is located at 32 Youya Road, in Taipei’s Beitou District. The 230 bus can take you there from either the Beitou or Xinbetou MRT stations. Their phone number is 2891-2318.

Other attractions within walking distance include: the eerie view at Hell (or Thermal) Valley, the historic Beitou Hot Springs Museum, and public bathing at Millennium Hot Spring.

An excellent sampling of Richard Purtill’s fiction

Parallel Worlds of Richard Purtill
Richard Purtill
Fiction 404 pages
AuthorHouse. 2011

This collection contains a full-length novel, “The Parallel Man” and ten additional stories, including some never before published. Some of the stories are science fiction, some fantasy, some combine elements of both. Regardless of genre, they are all delightful. For example:

What would it be like to be so empathetic that it causes emotional distress, or to see the world through the eyes of others instead of one’s own? Richard Purtill addresses extreme empathy in “The Chrysenomian Way”, and the second theme in “Other’s Eyes”. The situations in both stories, like those of most Purtill stories in this collection, have unexpected, yet satisfying, solutions.

When live actors perform in the space faring Universal Commonwealth, their psionic technique creates rapport with their audience. In “Blackout” an actor learns that gods can also use psionic rapport. Will he be able to face down a god and stop its killing spree?

Can a vampire live a comfortable life on a Greek island among malicious and superstitious neighbors? Is the arrival of a beautiful stranger his key to escaping an eternity of lonely despair?

The final four stories in the volume are adapted from Russian folk tales. Although each of the four stands on its own, together they form a suite of related stories. Several feature a knight named Karl, a war veteran now weary of killing, who seeks nothing more than a worthy cause to serve. Karl’s heroic humility will charm those who read his adventures.

Denver to Chicago by Plane and by Train

Initially I planned to fly both to and from Chicago. But, then something went wrong. Both tickets, spaced four days apart, were for flights from Denver to Chicago. Some days after booking the flights, but well before the flight dates, I realized my mistake: you just can’t fly to a city if you’re already there. I attempted to get a refund for the second ticket, but they said it was already too late. Even changing the flight date would cost more than the ticket had. Economy fares are great when they save money, but when their providers are unwilling to refund or exchange their tickets, they are no bargain at all. So, I lost $68.00 and Spirit Airlines lost both my custom and good will.

On the plus side, I was now free to rethink my return trip. I decided to take a train back instead, and I’m glad I did. Trains don’t go as fast as planes, but they’ll show you far more scenery. And, the clacketty-clack sound of steel wheels rolling on iron rails are soothing to the soul. The train rolled past fields of yellow grain and over the wide Mississippi River before entering that long tunnel called night.

Sleeping in coach is not as comfortable as is doing so in the sleeping car, but it is reasonably tolerable. Besides, I did not ride a train to be pampered. I rode a train to take a journey. In the air, there is little to see and even less to do. However, on a train, conversations happen and one experiences the solid land between here and there. Periodically, the train stops and one walks along the platform breathing the night air of a strange, and otherwise unvisited, city.

In Omaha, the train platform is old, dingy and dim, but in Nebraska’s capital, Lincoln, the platform stands outside a modern and friendly looking station. Just before dawn, the train arrived in Denver. It stopped several blocks from historic Union Station. When renovation completes in 2014, Union Station will serve as a regional transportation hub. However, for now a detoured stop is used.

Killing with the Edge of the Moon

Killing with the Edge of the Moon
A. A. Attanasio
Fiction 160 pages
Prime Books. 2006

Would you go all the way to Hell just to get a date? Chet does, but not entirely willingly. He makes the trip partly due to a very convincing witch, but also because he has a crush on Flannery.

Long ago, Orpheus made a similar trip. However, when he tried it, things didn’t work out so well. Of course, the Otherworld isn’t exactly Hell, and Flannery, unlike Orpheus’s wife, Eurydice, isn’t exactly dead. But, the situation is similar, and if Chet isn’t able to work the Fetch, Flannery will be both dead and dragon food.

While Flannery dances with fairies in the Otherworld, her body lies in a hospital bed connected to life support equipment. For Flannery, the Otherworld is far more joyful than the one she has known all her life. But Arden, the fairy prince, hasn’t told her everything, and Flannery doesn’t know how much danger she’s in. Even if her witch grandmother, Nedra, is able to convince Chet to work the Fetch, Flannery and Chet will face great danger before their story is done.

The Orpheus myth is a prime example of what Joseph Campbell calls the hero’s journey. Chet’s hero journey is faithful to the mythic archetype, yet modern and unpredictable. Filled with reversals and surprises, Attanasio’s story pits the uncertainty of contemporary adolescence against the ageless themes of Celtic myth.

After Dancing Long and Well, It’s Time to Pay the Piper

It’s absurd to maintain tax cuts for the wealthy when the country faces massive debt and many of its citizens are unemployed. By now, most of us realize that prosperity does not trickle down from the wealthy, and never did.

It’s argued, however, that increasing taxes for the wealthiest citizens may result in lost jobs. But it’s also argued that the resulting reduction in the federal deficit will more than compensate for those lost jobs. Further, it’s not certain that job losses will occur since businesses are running on minimal staffs already. After Clinton raised taxes, the economy thrived, so it’s entirely possible that the effect of tax increases for the wealthiest may have no, or only minimal, effect on job losses.

Alternatives that include reducing entitlement funding will also increase the hardships already faced by entitlement beneficiaries. As for cutting federal spending, we all know that Republicans never actually follow through with such reductions despite their talk. To do so would result in lost jobs for federal employees and for those who supply the government with goods and services. Clearly not an acceptable alternative.

During the Eisenhower years and beyond, affluent Americans paid much higher taxes than they do today. The country prospered and employment was strong. Currently the wealthiest citizens hold a greater percentage of America’s wealth then they ever held previously resulting in record levels of income inequality. Yet does all this capital in so few hands result in economic growth? Not at all. In order to bring economic growth, capital needs to be moving, not sitting stagnantly in the hands of the elite. The United States does not have a royal class, yet the desire to worship royalty remains present in those who seek to protect it from imaginary threats.

Keelung Indigenous Cultural Hall

Taiwan’s indigenous people are the descendents of early residents of Fukien China who crossed the Taiwan Strait six thousand years ago. The Keelung Indigenous Cultural Hall is a modest, yet cheerfully sunlit building located near the bridge to Heping Dao (Peace Island).

 

The museum displays examples of aboriginal buildings, clothing, art and artifacts. The top floor leads out on to a plaza featuring additional carved artwork, a suspension bridge, paths, and a fine view of the Pacific Ocean.

Nowhere to Hide

Once again Israel and Palestine are going at each other, and as usual, the Palestinians are getting the worst of it. Benjamin Netanyahu says that the reason so many Palestinians get killed is because Hamas “hides behind civilians.” Consider the population to the Gaza Strip: There are 9,713 people per square mile living there. Compare that to the 809 people per square mile living in Israel, the 650 in the United Kingdom, the 365 in China, or the 84 in the United States.

Is it really fair to say that Hamas hides behind its civilians in an area so crowded that there’s nowhere else to hide? For years Israel has managed to portray itself as the plucky underdog fighting for survival while surrounded by enemies. There’s some truth in that, yet Israel has been far too aggressive, far too often, and now the story is beginning to wear a bit thin. Lately it looks more like a bully than an underdog.

Neither nation is entitled to claim righteousness, high-mindedness, or innocence. However, Israel is the stronger of the two nations, and as such, she should be the first to make concessions. If Israel doesn’t modify her belligerent stance, her naked aggression will be exposed, world opinion will change, and she’ll find herself with nowhere to hide.

Is science fiction a dead genre, or is it merely un-dead?

As a science fiction fan, I follow several sites that post about eBooks. Of late, I see many new titles about werewolves, vampires and zombies. Such creatures are fine when they keep to their proper genre, but when they masquerade as science fiction I get irritated.

I like the end of the world as well as anyone, but does it always have to be the same zombie stuffed, vampire ridden post-apocalyptic world? Why can’t you authors write stories like those in Jack Vance’s “Dying Earth”? Vance mixes crumbling technology and magic without resorting to un-dead or dog-eared characters. Why can’t you guys?

Occasionally one of you gets a vampire right, but werewolves? Come on. And, zombies—plah-eze—they are so implausible. I mean, can a walking sack of rotting flesh get readers to suspend disbelief? Let’s try something new, something with at least a trace of science in it, not another werewolf story. Is the world going to the dogs, or what? 

The Rock

Peter Blume’s painting, “The Rock” is one of my favorites at The Art Institute of Chicago. Some have concluded that this painting symbolizes hopeful renewal in a postwar or post-apocalyptic world. At first glance, this makes sense; however, I viewed this painting recently and came to darker conclusions.

 That destruction has occurred and renewal is occurring is clear from the ruined building on the right and the construction on the left. The trees in the background possibly lack leaves because of the season, but the shirtless workers in the foreground suggest warmer weather. I think the forest experienced a recent fire, perhaps the same fire that destroyed the building on the right.

Though the painting’s right and left sides create its general theme, what is occurring in its middle is less clear. The woman on the left side of the rock is reverently patting the soil beneath the rock in an attempt to stabilize its foundation. The man on its right could be working to restore the rock’s foundation, but he could also be destroying it. The workers supplying shaped stones for the construction on the painting’s left side suggest that the man with the shovel is removing the soil and stone which support the rock.

What about the rock itself? Does it actually represent hopefulness, or does it represent decay and futility instead? Only one figure in the painting is capable of giving birth, and this woman seems determined to preserve the rock’s foundation. There’s an animal skeleton directly above her, a symbol of death and decay. The grass next to the rock is dried and dying and the roots beneath it are dead and detached. Even the red blooms are not those of flowers, but of fungus, a plant which thrives on decay.

The woman’s efforts to keep the rock from falling are futile — the rock is already dead. A closer look reveals that it is not formed from enduring material such as marble or granite, but of decaying organic matter. For the rock is a watermelon, split, overripe and rotting. There’s no future here. Ultimately civilization cannot be rebuilt. It is destined to crumble and rot.

 Click to see Peter Blume’s, "The Rock".