That Went Well: 2015

When I stop to think about the media I enjoy - prose, comics, film, video game - I can't quite escape a sense of ennui. Have I read every word worth reading? Seen every film worth watching? So much of what I find - old or new - is too familiar and I'm far too detached from the experience. I want to be entertained, but perhaps I've experienced too much?

But of course, then something comes along which I truly, unabashedly, enjoy. Sometimes it's not only good entertainment but even touches me personally. For that reason, I'm here to share my favourite discoveries of 2015.

PROSE BOOKS

I had once heard the book Hell on Ice by Edward Ellsberg dramatized by Orson Welles on the Mercury Theatre radio program. That was enough to convince me to read the book when a copy came past me for disposal. I wouldn't have otherwise glanced twice at it; it's the story of an expedition to the North Pole which goes horribly awry; it's a very long, slow burn, but when the explorers' ship is finally lost the tension of wondering how any of them could have survived sustains a heightened interest to the grim finale.

The graphic novel Unflattening led me to the work which (partially) inspired it, Edwin Abbott's Flatland, an engaging blend of drama, humour, philosophy and mathematics.

I read two more books by Paul Brickhill, best-known for The Great Escape. In Reach for the Sky, he told the story of aviator Douglas Bader, a man who is kept rather emotionally distant in the narrative, but his determination to resume flying planes after losing his legs is remarkable enough on its own. I also read Escape to Danger, a collection of stories about pilots who escaped from the Germans during World War II, many of them very unusual in terms of the near-deaths the pilots would survive and the oft-surprising ease with which they would escape.

After initially quite enjoying Fyodor Dostoevsky through Crime and Punishment, I'd begun to grow disenchanted with everything else of his I read, but his romance story White Nights helped bring me back - it's a brief read, but with palpable emotions.

My interest in Africa continues to lead me through various tomes on the subject, including two by Thomas Pakenham: The Scramble for Africa and The Mountains of Rasselas. The former explained the divvying up of the continent to me in a way I finally grasped (that it was told so that what each country was doing in relation to each other at each given time was most helpful) and the latter told of Pakenham's journey to Ethiopia in the 1950s with many beautiful photos; Ethiopia remains the African nation I most hope to visit one day.

As I've frequently remarked on this blog, I continue to enjoy the works of author Sax Rohmer, despite the frequent racism found therein. I read the biography Master of Villainy by Cay Van Ash but found the author far too willing to praise Rohmer to the heavens and wanted something less opinionated about him. The book The Yellow Peril: Dr. Fu Manchu & the Rise of Chinaphobia by Christopher Frayling was much more to my liking; it's meticulously researched to help explain the climate in England when the Fu Manchu stories first appeared and more interested in setting the facts straight than protecting Rohmer's reputation (which was Van Ash's problem).

I'm continuing to work my way through the original novels which inspired some of my favourite movies; in 2015 that included Deliverance by James Dickey, Paths of Glory by Humphrey Cobb, The Bridge on the River Kwai by Pierre Boulle, Hell House by Richard Matheson, The Big Clock by Kenneth Fearing and Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House by Eric Hodgins. I also delved into some good books about film and film people: Cagney by James Cagney and This Is Orson Welles by Orson Welles.

COMIC BOOKS

At last, Stan Sakai's Usagi Yojimbo resumed regular publication (following his work on the 47 Ronin and Usagi Yojimbo: Senso mini-series) and, predictably, the quality is as high as before. Sakai continues to craft interesting tales about feudal Japan and the slow-yet-ever-changing cast of characters continue to progress. Usagi Yojimbo is the most dependable book on the market.

The Wild's End wrapped up, only to be followed by another mini-series, The Enemy Within. I need to post a review of this series as it isn't receiving a lot of notice, but Dan Abnett & I.N.J. Culbard are delivering a notably weird mash-up of two great institutions of British fiction: The Wind in the Willows and The War of the Worlds. The present series even includes a character who is vaguely analogous to H. G. Wells!

The Autumnlands by Kurt Busiek & Benjamin Dewey is taking a measured pace (much about the human protagonist remains unexplained) but I trust in Busiek to make the journey worthwhile; in the meantime, Dewey is delivering dynamic art and distinctive animal-people. I'm still following Busiek's Astro City (in trades) as well, and between the two they remind me of why I first became so excited by his writing back in '97.

Q2: The Return of Quantum & Woody reunited Priest & Mark Bright in a coda to their series. I gather Priest wasn't satisfied by the experience at all, but I enjoyed revisiting the characters and seeing Priest almost aggressively reject nostalgia in favour of continuing to move his cast forward.

The Complete Little Nemo was easily the best trade collection I picked up in 2015; I had eyed it for quite some time, but only moved on it when publisher Taschen ran a sale on their site. It is precisely what it claims to be - all of Winsor McCay's Little Nemo between two covers. What a delight!

Some other graphic novels I delved into were Deogratias by Jean-Philippe Stassen, Notes for a War Story by Gipi, Burma Chronicles by Guy DeLisle, Rose by Jeff Smith, On the Ropes and Kings in Disguise by James Vance, Unflattening by Nick Sousanis, Laika by Nick Abadzis and War Brothers by Sharon E. McKay, while I continue to follow Winterworld by Chuck Dixon, G.I. Joe by Larry Hama and Ragnarok by Walter Simonson.

MOTION PICTURES

Mad Max: Fury Road My brief thoughts on this picture were ultimately the most-viewed blog entry of 2015, which certainly speaks to how gigantic this film's reception was. I've rewatched it a few times since then and continue to be impressed by the ease at which the story is told and the subtle character development which unfolds. This is cinema that brings to mind Hitchcock, Ford, Murnau... hands-down my favourite theatre-going experience of 2015.

I caught up on The Edge of Tomorrow on DVD, having been intrigued by it's advertising. The marketing really did not sell this film - it's quite funny (particularly in terms of black comedy) and uses star Tom Cruise in a role which is quite different from his usual fare. In fact, I came to realize this is now my favourite Tom Cruise movie; previously, I would have asserted I didn't have a favourite. I like Cruise's development from craven coward to hero; I like Emily Blunt's far more capable secondary character who has to train him; and I laughed at a lot of Cruise's darkly funny death scenes.

Life Itself is the documentary on Roger Ebert filmed at the end of his life and intentionally designed to show what his life was like at the time; it is at first startling to see Ebert missing his lower jaw and I appreciate that he didn't want to hide it from the camera. The biography of Ebert's life is also engaging, particularly to hear how wounded Ebert was when Siskel didn't inform him of his impending death.

Diagram for Delinquents is a terrific documentary from Sequart about the oft-despised Fredric Wertham, the psychologist who opposed comic books. Amazingly, this film offers a perspective on Wertham than that which comic book culture has absorbed; it actually brought me around to his side on some of his thinking. For that reason, this is easily the best comic book documentary I've ever seen - I actually learned something important!

There are other movies I quite enjoyed: The Citadel (1938), which touched on notions of the struggle to attain one's ideal life as in other King Vidor pictures; Johnny Got His Gun (1971), which I watched after having read the book; Ender's Game (2013) which I have not read in prose but I found it to be a good picture; 42 (2013) which interested me despite my lack of interest in baseball and led me to The Battered Bastards of Baseball (2014), Knuckleball (2012), Moneyball (2011) and even Ken Burns' Baseball mini-series; Harold & Maude (1971), a picture I'd heard a lot about but didn't understand the appeal 'til I saw it; Romero (1989), with Raul Julia dramatizing the life of a murdered priest; A Time to Love and a Time to Die (1958) an adaptation of an Erich Maria Remarque novel which I haven't read (yet) but had an interesting look at Germany near the end of WW2; The Talented Mr. Ripley, which I had no idea had been adapted from a series of novels by the same woman who authored the stories adapted into Hitchcock's Strangers on a Train; Beasts of No Nation (2015) which examined African child soldiers and held up to everything I'd previously read on the subject; Nightcrawler (2014) I had heard praised in a few places and it turned out to be an extremely involving film with turns I couldn't quite predict and that's always a pleasure; finally, Bridge of Spies (2015) which is not what I'd have expected from a Spielberg/Coen Bros. mash-up, but told an interesting Cold War story in a very uncomplicated way.

VIDEO GAMES

In 2015, I upgraded to the Xbox One (or Xbone). I didn't plan to - I didn't want to shell out the money for what was (and is) still an expensive console when my Xbox 360 remained useful. Unfortunately, my 360 began to develop trouble reading discs and as it doubled as my DVD player, it crippled two modes of entertainment. Suddenly, the One seemed to make sense - it would mean upgrading to a blu-ray and, as my 360 friends had all abandoned that console for the One, it would mean having people to play games with again.

My mistake (and regret) was buying Destiny for the One. I already had it on 360 (Destiny was part of how I rationalized staying with the 360), but I wanted to play it with my friends as there were parts of the game you couldn't play without friends in your party. Unfortunately, by the time I got on the One my friends had given up on Destiny. I continued to play, but over time the game has actually become worse; the last update (The Taken King), which I avoided, actually barred me from accessing features I'd been able to use previously. That, coupled with the many behind-the-scenes troubles being reported on convinced me to stay away; if my friends went back to Destiny I'd consider giving it another go, but as it is I feel I've wasted enough money. It was good for what it was - that is, it kept me occupied until the release of...

Halo 5: Guardians. As I didn't plan on owning the One, I thought I'd played my last Halo game, but here I am. This game has a campaign story which is just okay; it turns a beloved character into a villain, which is unfortunate, yet never hits the emotions of the previous series entry (and I didn't think Halo 4's campaign matched the Bungie game entries). The campaign has some interesting fights, but the story's not as involving as it should be. Meanwhile, the matchmaking modes are pretty good; my favourite Halo mode, Firefight, remains MIA (was I the only one who liked it?) but the new Warzone mode finally perfects what some of the previous games were trying to accomplish; on the basis of Warzone mode alone, I'm very pleased with this game - I can happily play Warzone for hours. I still have hope there are other game types coming in future updates as this game is significantly smaller than Halo 4 was.

And those are my 2015 highlights!

The Shadow of the Hand of the Daughter of the Mask of the Bride of the President of the Insidious of the Return of Fu Manchu (Reentered)

I first became fascinated with Sax Rohmer's Fu Manchu in the 1990s when I began listening to old-time radio through my family's satellite dish, which is where I first discovered Yesterday USA. At one time, one of the network's regular shows was airing episodes of the radio serial Shadow of Fu Manchu in sequential order every two weeks and I became fascinated by the program. Despite the racist reputation Fu Manchu holds, I found the serial to be an outstanding thriller with great cliffhangers.

Image from The Page of Fu Manchu

My father would sometimes pause at the desk of his home office and listen to some of the program. I was surprised to learn he had a fair bit of knowledge about Fu Manchu and eventually he gifted me with his collection of Fu Manchu paperback novels: nine of the original thirteen books (plus two other Rohmer novels he owned). It means a lot to receive something personal of my father's, even if they were a bunch of paperbacks most would consider "trashy" literature. I read most of them during my first year of college and eventually obtained the four novels my father hadn't owned.

The Shadow of Fu Manchu exists in the public domain like most radio programs and at one point I bought a CD containing the entire series. Or should that be "entire" series? When I first heard the show on Yesterday USA it was a series of 40 episodes and that 40th program was the first chapter of a new adventure. Yet, that seemed to be all that still existed. Those 40 shows were the same ones I found on my disc. For that reason, I didn't look any further.

Imagine my surprise in recent weeks when I discovered there were actually dozens of other Shadow of Fu Manchu episodes still in existence! Rather than 40 episodes, the series lasted 156 and there seem to be 85 still around. The first 40 had received a lot of circulation because their sequence was intact, but I'm quite happy to have these shows!

The odd thing about The Shadow of Fu Manchu is that while it adapted many of Rohmer's Fu Manchu novels, it didn't follow the order exactly. After adapting the first novel (The Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu) it moved to the third (The Hand of Fu Manchu), then the second (The Return of Dr. Fu-Manchu), followed by the fourth (The Daughter of Fu Manchu) and fifth (The Mask of Fu Manchu), then skipping into an amalgam of the eighth and ninth novels (President Fu Manchu & The Drums of Fu Manchu) then concluding with the sixth novel (The Bride of Fu Manchu).

Although the adaptations are reasonably faithful, they do attempt to keep the cast of characters a little more solid than Rohmer. In the books, Rohmer phased out Dr. Petrie gradually, beginning with Daughter, then retiring him completely in Trail as the principal hero, Nayland Smith, would be paired with other sidekicks starting with Daughter. Although the radio version includes the new sidekicks, they keep Petrie around and in a larger role than the original stories; his presence is particularly notable in the Drums/President mash-up, two novels he didn't appear in. Inspector Weymouth, one of the earliest allies of Smith, is also continually brought back in, whereas Rohmer let him drift out early on.

Smith's sidekicks were also squeezed together. The Drums/President mash-up includes President's sidekick Mark Hepburn eliminated, with only Drums' sidekick Bart Kerrigan retained. Smith's sidekicks don't seem to be well-known, given that I see several radio logs for Shadow of Fu Manchu refer to Smith's Daughter & Mask sidekick Shan Greville as "Grebble." I have to say, The Mask of Fu Manchu adaptation is mostly intact and done very well - the actor playing Shan was a familiar voice (one I can't seem to find a credit for on any of the shows I've heard him in) and Shan was always my favourite sidekick after Petrie.

Because of the way in which the serials follow on the heels of one another, rather than being separated by years as when Rohmer wrote them (the books span many decades, in fact), this led the series to adopt a very unimpressive ad-hoc solution to who Fu Manchu's "Bride" Fleurette in the final story is. In the novels, she's the daughter of Petrie & Kâramanèh, but because of the condensed timeline, on the radio she's Kâramanèh's long-lost sister, which, given that earlier in the series they told the saga of Kâramanèh's hard-luck brother Aziz, it seems like giving Kâramanèh yet another sibling in Fu Manchu's power is drawing from the same well.

No matter how many times I think I've heard everything worth hearing in old-time radio, I'm still pleasantly surprised to unearth other wonderful old shows. Discovering I'd been missing out on more than 40 episodes of a favourite series of mine is especially heartening! What else is still waiting for me to encounter it?

Fu Manchu at Paramount

One thing I've learned from talking to people about Fu Manchu is that people aren't interested in talking about Fu Manchu. Even within the ranks of Fu Manchu enthusiasts, there's a lot to do with the character and property which isn't brought up because there are so many stories and adaptations existing and they almost all require a bit of work to obtain.

In many ways, I'm sure contemporary culture would like to just leave Fu Manchu where he is - in the past. Forget about the Sax Rohmer novels, forget about the film adaptations, keep looking forward and don't bring up the racial issues surrounding the character. I'd be willing to oblige, except that I keep finding nuggets of real value in Rohmer's fiction. Which brings me to the Fu Manchu films.

Of the Devil Doctor's many entries into cinema, he's probably best known for MGM's 1932 picture the Mask of Fu Manchu starring Boris Karloff, which still has a following because Karloff still has a following; the Harry Alan Towers series of pictures starring Christopher Lee still have a following, as does the still-living Lee; even the Republic serial Drums of Fu Manchu is considered one of the better serials.

But what of Fu Manchu's first foray into the talkies? He figured in three Paramount movies from 1929-1931 (one per year), each starring Warner Oland and with a surprising amount of continuity for the time in which they were made. To the best of my knowledge, Paramount hasn't rereleased these pictures for modern audiences. Perhaps it's their old shame.

And it is a shame - because these movies aren't too bad and not quite in the same tone as the later Fu Manchu pictures. Thanks to the wonders of Youtube I've finally seen all three movies; follow along as I guide you through the saga...

The series begins with the Mysterious Dr. Fu Manchu. It's interesting to note how the first two films include "Dr.," just as the titles for the first two US editions of the Fu Manchu novels were the Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu and the Return of Dr. Fu-Manchu, while later novels omitted his title (ie, Hand of Fu Manchu, Island of Fu Manchu, President Fu Manchu, Wrath of Fu Manchu, etc.). Our director is Rowland V. Lee and the part of Fu Manchu is played by Warner Oland, who would later come to fame as Charlie Chan. Although Oland claimed to be part-Asian, it seems he would wear a mustache to help him appear "oriental." Thus, by adding a mustache in these films, he permanently branded the character with one, even though he was clean-shaven in the novels.

We open in China during the Boxer Rebellion. Dr. Fu Manchu is a practicing physician and friend to the Caucasians, using his skill with hypnosis to help treat patients. However, in the midst of the fighting, the British/Russian/French/German forces wind up shelling Fu Manchu's home while trying to strike down enemy forces. Fu Manchu's wife and son are slain by the blast and he vows revenge upon the white race - but specifically, he vows revenge on the officers who ordered the attack, determining to one day claim their lives and lives of their male heirs, to balance the scales for the loss of his family.

In the novels, Fu Manchu had no particular origin; it wasn't even clear how many years he'd been active as his life-prolonging Elixir Vitae could have kept him alive for hundreds of years. Fu Manchu of the novels was out to conquer the world, not simply obtain revenge. I think it's interesting to note how the filmmakers believed it was important to give Fu Manchu a motivation for being the figure of evil he was. Up to a point, Fu could have been the hero of his story - exacting revenge on the officers who killed his family is a very sympathetic motivation. It's only when he decides to kill the officers' offspring too that he loses the audience's sympathy.

Even as Fu is vowing his vengeance, his servant Fai Lu presents him with Lia, a tiny white child whose family have just died but wanted Fu raise their daughter. Fu Manchu honours the request, using her to supplant his lost family. And so, nearly 30 years pass in which Fu Manchu evidently spent a lot of time pooling together his servants, perfecting his chemical weapons, raising his foster daughter and obtaining the identities of the men who ordered the attack on his house. I say "evidently" because after nearly 30 years, he's only just finished off his second-last target; as we rejoin the story, Fu is after the last officer, General Petrie, plus his son Sir John Petrie and grandson Dr. Jack Petrie. However, Fu hasn't counted on Scotland Yard's Nayland Smith, who comes to the Petrie family's defense, nor could he have expected Lia would fall in love with young Dr. Petrie.

Here are some more departures from the canon: in the novels, Fu Manchu admired Dr. Petrie and would always try to spare him from death, believing Petrie was an honoured colleague who would be fascinated by his experiments; as for Smith, Fu had nothing but contempt for him as an unintelligent lout. In these movies, Fu expresses regard for Smith's intelligence but has an unreasoning hatred for Petrie due to his vow of vengeance.

For fans of the novels, this depiction of Fu Manchu falls a little short; his instruments of death aren't the terrifically visual sort famously described in the novels such as his wailing Dacoit assassins or horrific insects like the "Zayat Kiss." Instead, Oland's Fu Manchu uses potions, hypnosis and a quicklime pit (the latter off-camera); his servants have nothing more interesting than throwing daggers. This interpretation of Fu lacks the exotic flair of the novels, reducing him to just another "mad scientist" or "man-out-for-revenge" the type of which movies like Doctor X and Mystery of the Wax Museum were based upon.

Fu works his way through the Petrie family, killing General Petrie and his son. Finally, by hypnotizing, he captures Dr. Petrie and prepares to throw him into his quicklime pit. Petrie is certain Smith will come to rescue, prompting a rather dry response from the Devil Doctor, dripping with sarcasm:

"I humbly apologize. I'm afraid my somewhat weird and Oriental methods may have misled your Occidental mind into believing that, uh, this is nothing but a gigantic melodrama in which the detective's arrival at the last moment produces the happy ending. Don't deny it! I can see by your face it is so."

Having said this, Fu reveals he's already captured Smith! Fu Manchu comes within a hair's breadth of winning the day, but Fai Lu betrays him for love of her charge and Fu is seemingly poisoned to death.

Also of note: Smith cooperates with the Chinese government in this picture, reporting to a Chinese official in one scene; it may seem like an obvious gesture to you and I, but the early Sax Rohmer novels had a raging paranoia where any Asian characters were concerned; if this were a Rohmer book, the official would have either been killed or revealed as one of Fu's servants. Further, the paranoia about Asians was often expressed by Smith himself - it's hard to imagine the Nayland Smith of the early novels cooperating with the Chinese government (although eventually Rohmer introduced benevolent and heroic Asians and took some pains to make it clear Fu Manchu was as much an enemy of China as he was the "white race").

Let's move along to the second film, the Return of Dr. Fu Manchu, again directed by Rowland V. Lee and with virtually every actor from the previous film reprising their parts.

We open at Fu Manchu's funeral as the survivors from the previous film hope to carry on with their lives and Lia and Dr. Petrie begin planning their wedding. However, Fu Manchu's poison simply placed him into suspended animation. Rising from his coffin, he kills Fai Lu for betraying him, then prepares for revenge on Petrie, the last of his designated targets.

In a cute moment, Fu explains how the formula which only "temporarily" killed him was inspired by Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet! At one point Fu pilots an airplane which would seems weirdly out-of-character for the novel's version (who would surely have a servant take the controls), yet fits this economy-size Fu well:

Again Fu menaces Petrie, Smith and, again he's halted at the last moment. This time he falls into a river with a bomb which explodes, seemingly killing him... but who'd believe that? We actually saw his dead body last film and it sure didn't stop him!

Sure enough, 1931 saw the grand finale to Paramount's Fu Manchu saga with Daughter of the Dragon, directed by Lloyd Corrigan, who had helped write the screen treatment for the previous two pictures. Oland reprises Fu Manchu again, but only for the first few scenes of the picture. The real star is Anna May Wong, the best-known Asian actress of the 1930s.

Startlingly, the movie opens twenty years after the previous picture! So this is, what, 1950? Dr. Petrie has grown old and raised a son, Ronald Petrie; said son is in love with Ling Moy, a Chinese woman who's been trying to locate her long-lost father.

As misfortune would have it, Ling Moy's father is the nefarious Fu Manchu, back from the dead and still intent on killing Dr. Petrie. And after twenty years, he finally makes his mark, killing Dr. Petrie. Now only Ronald remains, but Scotland Yard officer Sir Basil Courtney renders a fatal wound to Fu Manchu. Slowly dying, Fu is reunited with Ling Moy and tells her the story of how his wife and child died, causing him to vow revenge; Fu laments how without a son to be his heir, his vendetta will never be completed. Ling Moy offers to be like a son to her father, claiming she'll finish his work; Fu accepts this and as the authorities close in on him, he pretends to attack Ling Moy, knowing the police will kill him to save her - and thus she'll remain above suspicion as his heir.

So it is we take our leave of Dr. Fu Manchu... yet his legacy lives on. It soon becomes clear Ling Moy only promised to be his heir so she could bond with the father she never knew in his last moments; she truly loves Ronald and doesn't want to kill him, but her late father's servants keep demanding she fulfill her promise. It's interesting to note how Ling Moy & Ronald's romance keeps from breaking Hollywood's miscegenation rules as their attempted kisses are interrupted.

However, Ronald is also being pursued by white woman Joan Marshall; to complete our romantic rhombus, inspector Ah Kee loves Ling Moy... and boy, is he made to suffer for it! Ah Kee is the one man convinced Fu Manchu has cheated death yet again, but for not realizing Ling Moy is the real criminal mastermind he winds up walking right into her hands and bound up in an attic. When he tries to get the attention of the police on the ground below, he tumbles out of the window and nearly dies! In the chaotic finale, it's Ah Kee who delivers the fatal gunshot which kills our reluctant villain Ling Moy; Ah Kee then succumbs to the wounds from his fall and dies at her side.

Despite having very little Fu Manchu, Daughter of the Dragon is probably the best of the trio - Warner Oland stepped up his game for Fu's final scenes and Anna May Wong was simply a terrific actress; it's also interesting to see an Asian leading man (Sessue Hayakawa as Ah Kee) in 30s cinema. Corrigan had some fine touches as a director, notably in an above shot when Ronald Petrie is trapped in a tiny room, fumbling to find his way out:

If you're a Fu Manchu enthusiast, I definitely recommend seeking out the three films; if you're an Anna May Wong aficionado then the third film is required viewing!

Texts of 2011: reconsidered champions and new landscapes

So much of my spare time in 2011 was spent on films and comic books that I don't believe I read as many books as I do in a typical year. However, a few things stand out:

I continued my fascination with author Sax Rohmer, reading his books the Sins of Sumuru, Return of Sumuru, Slaves of Sumuru, Dope, Fire-Tongue, the Orchard of Tears, Bimbashi Baruk of Egypt, the Sins of Severec Bablon (more about it here), Tales of Chinatown, the Haunting of Low Fennel and Wulfheim. I'm just about done with Rohmer - in two senses; first, I've read very nearly all of his books, which is no mean feat since when I first began hunting for him in second-hand bookstores circa 1999, his books were nowhere to be found; second, the more I read of his lesser-known works, the less respect I have for his fiction. I used to be quite the Rohmer apologist, but when I hit Fire-Tongue and found it racist even by his own culture's reckoning, it was a turning point for me in terms of how far I'm willing to defend him. Also, while working my way through the Fu Manchu books way back in 1998, I noted how by the 1940s, Fu Manchu had lost a lot of his exotic flavour, becoming what I felt was a more generic criminal mastermind. The more I read of Rohmer's 40s fiction, the more I see how generic his villains had become - his 40s Fu Manchu could've been swapped with any of them and the villains are usually the best part of his early novels. Indeed, the early novel Dope was one of the few highlights of last year's readings. Who knows, perhaps 2012 will be the year where I finish reading all of his novels and short stories?

The only other piece of fiction worth noting was John Buchan's Witch Wood, primarily because it was the last remaining work of Buchan's fiction I hadn't read. It didn't strike me as being quite as good as it was made out to be in Buchan fan circles, but it was an interesting book, very similar to the Blanket of the Dark.

The real winners for me in 2011 were two pieces of non-fiction I pulled from my uncle's home in Angola: King Leopold's Ghost by Adam Hochschild and the State of Africa by Martin Meredith. It may seem silly to you that I spent a portion of my time in Africa reading about Africa when I might've done it from home before I departed. It wasn't lost on me, to be sure, but feeling "better late than never" and being instantly fascinated with both books, I delved straight in; several of my nights in Angola were spent sitting up reading in the living room with family and guests, so why not spend the time learning a little more about the continent?

King Leopold's Ghost told the story of the Belgian Congo and the shrewd, underhanded means King Leopold used to seize a second kingdom for himself. I think like many, I was unaware of the early 1900s human rights campaign to end the sufferings of the Congo, which is exactly what drew Hochschild into unearthing the story for his book. What it really impressed upon me is that while slavery was supposedly abolished in the western world, colonial powers in Africa could run their territories as slave states, which was even worse than buying and trading human lives.

The State of Africa attempts to recount the stories of every African nation in chronological order as they obtained independence in the 20th century. Although it's a massive tome, the chronological order makes the "story" of Africa difficult to follow because so many major leaders are introduced, then disappear while others are added to the cast, sometimes leaving behind earlier characters at a "dramatic" episode (I was quite convinced Kwame Nkrumah died in Vietnam in 1966 when his story was abruptly cut short at the end of a chapter; perhaps a chapter later his story continued, much to my surprise). It's sprawling, but immensely rewarding. After reading this book, I had a much better picture in my mind of the continent, the major turning points in recent history. It also helped me to see many of the (sadly) recurring patterns in independent countries, which would seem to either descend straight into civil conflict or, if they were politically stable, drive their economy down so that civil conflict erupted about a decade later. Points of history which I knew of on a superficial level such as the Ethiopian famine were explained succinctly and memorably. Before leaving to Angola, my African geography was simply terrible - I could identify perhaps six nations without reading their names off a map. I'm much, much better now and that's partly due to this book for granting me a "big picture" view of the land.

Tomorrow: The bad side of comics books; when they hurt, I hurt.

Kâramanèh: an uncommon creature

From time to time here on the blog and in real life, I bring up author Sax Rohmer; when I do start to speak of him, I often open with an apologetic statement. There was a time when I was very defensive about Rohmer, feeling he was judged a racist by modern critics strictly for his Fu Manchu novels, which I had found weren't as bad as their reputation suggested. However, the more I've read of Rohmer's non-Fu Manchu career, the more...objectionable material I've encountered.

Apologetics aside, I'd like to speak a bit about why exactly I became a staunch Rohmer supporter; I can chalk it up to one of his Fu Manchu creations, the slave girl Kâramanèh.

Kâramanèh was introduced in the first novel (the Mystery of Dr. Fu-Manchu or the Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu, depending on your edition), as narrated by the character of Dr. Petrie:

I thought that I never had seen a face so seductively lovely nor of so unusual a type. With the skin of perfect blonde, she had eyes and lashes as black as a Creole's, which, together with her full red lips, told me that this beautiful stranger, whose touch had so startled me, was not a child of our northern shores.

By the time Kâramanèh has been introduced, we've yet to meet her master, Fu Manchu, nor even heard the famous "brow like Shakespeare..." description Petrie's friend Nayland Smith relates. Petrie is quite taken with Kâramanèh and it's mutual as she winds up saving he and Smith's lives a few times. In one encounter, Petrie begins to realize just how strange her loyalty to Fu Manchu is:

"But if you will carry me off" - she clutched me nervously - "so that I am helpless, lock me up so that I cannot escape, beat me, if you like, I will tell you all I do know. While he is my master I will never betray him. Tear me from him - by force, do you understand, by force, and my lips will be sealed no longer. Ah! but you do not understand, with your 'proper authorities' - your police. Police! Ah, I have said enough."

Kâramanèh's terms are so startling to Petrie that he repeatedly lets her out of his grasp. It's a good thing he did, because being on the inside of Fu Manchu's operation, she's in a perfect position to save him! At one point, Petrie and Smith are chased through darkened streets by four of Fu Manchu's Dacoit assassins, but Kâramanèh comes to their rescue - executing the Dacoits herself with a revolver! For a piece of 1913 fiction, Kâramanèh is a pretty formidable woman and, against the expectations of the times, it's the men who are in distress and need to be rescued!

But who is Kâramanèh? And why does she remain with Fu Manchu? It seems she's from Egypt and a Bedouin...

"You may call me Kâramanèh," she said. "As Kâramanèh I was sold to Dr. Fu-Manchu, and my brother also he purchased. We were cheap at the price he paid." She laughed shortly, wildly.

"But he has spent a lot of money to educate me. My brother is all that is left to me in the world to love, and he is in the power of Dr. Fu-Manchu. You understand? It is upon him the blow will fall."

Kâramanèh's brother Aziz is being kept alive through a serum which only Fu Manchu can supply. Thankfully, Petrie is a doctor and, guided by Kâramanèh, eventually steals both Aziz and the serum and finds a way to set Aziz free. The first book ends with Fu Manchu seemingly dead and Kâramanèh reunited with Aziz, setting home to Egypt, leaving a heartbroken Petrie behind.

Much changes in the second book from 1916 (either the Devil Doctor or the Return of Dr. Fu-Manchu, take your pick). Petrie and Smith quickly learn Fu Manchu is still alive and still bent on destruction. To their considerable surprise, Kâramanèh is back - and in Fu Manchu's thrall! And she has no idea who Petrie is! We eventually learn Kâramanèh has been brainwashed back into Fu Manchu's service. This brainwashed version of Kâramanèh shows no consideration for Smith & Petrie, depriving them of a valued resource and generally throwing Petrie off his game. However, the brainwashing isn't permanent and it's a good thing since by the end of the novel, Smith & Petrie are in Fu Manchu's clutches, with Smith in a death trap so terrible the Devil Doctor has given Petrie the opportunity to kill his friend to spare his suffering. As Fu Manchu begins to unleash rats to gnaw Smith to death, Kâramanèh enters the scene!

She looked, not at the tortured man, not at me, but fully at Dr. Fu-Manchu. One hand clutched the trembling draperies; now she suddenly raised the other, so that the jewels on her white arm glittered in the light of the lamp above the door. She held my Browning pistol! Fu-Manchu sprang upright, inhaling sibilantly, as Kâramanèh pointed the pistol point blank at his high skull and fired...

Isn't that amazing? Fu Manchu's first "definitive" death comes at the hands of a woman who puts a bullet in his skull! It's certainly a well-earned triumph for Kâramanèh after being a brainwashed thrall for the rest of the novel. The book ends happily with Petrie, Kâramanèh (and Aziz) together again.

Unfortunately, in some ways this was the last we saw of Kâramanèh. She reappeared in 1917's the Hand of Fu Manchu/Si-Fan Mysteries, but had barely any dialogue, spending almost the entire novel as Fu Manchu's prisoner. The fourth novel didn't arrive until 1931 and by then Rohmer had begun changing the formula (Fu Manchu is barely in the 4th novel!). Petrie was retired from the series and the narrator duties fell to other characters (until Rohmer finally adopted the third person narrator). Petrie and Kâramanèh were married during the publishing gap and their daughter, Fleurette, became the subject of two novels: the Bride of Fu Manchu (1933) and the Trail of Fu Manchu (1934). In those books, Fu Manchu tries to make Fleurette his bride (which was pretty skeevy of him), even threatening to kill Fleurette if he can't have her; it's finally Petrie who bargains for her life by saving Fu's and with that Petrie is forever removed from the narrative as Fu gives his word to never trouble him or his family again.

Personally, I wish the Kâramanèh from the first two novels had played a larger role in those two latter books. Instead of making Fleurette's peril a matter for either her lover (Alan Sterling) or her father. Man alive, I would have really enjoyed reading about a Kâramanèh who plays the part of a tigress, hunting Fu Manchu down and thrashing him until he vows to leave her cub alone.

Because she played such a prominent role in the early novels, Kâramanèh has been well-represented in every media. There were Fu Manchu serials in 1923 & 1924; Kâramanèh was played by Joan Clarkson in the former, Dorina Shirley in the latter.

In 1931 a Fu Manchu comic strip began by adapting the first novel, thus dramatizing a great deal of Kâramanèh's story.

A 1932 Fu Manchu radio program featured Sunda Loe and Charlotte Manson as Kâramanèh; in 1939, the terrific serial show the Shadow of Fu Manchu featured Paula Winslowe as Kâramanèh, again adapting the first two novels. This latter radio program was my introduction to the Fu Manchu universe, sparking off an obsession which has lasted me some 15 years.

The 1956 television program the Adventures of Fu Manchu cast Laurette Luez as Kâramanèh; perhaps one of these days I'll watch the show.

Marvel's Master of Kung Fu series made extensive use of Fu Manchu, Nayland Smith and Fah Lo Suee, with occasional use of Dr. Petrie; issues #83-87 included appearances by Kâramanèh, revealed to have been kept eternally young by Fu's Elixir Vitae, while Petrie had continued to age; Kâramanèh couldn't bear to be reunited with Petrie, despite her love for him. These stories by Doug Moench & Mike Zeck showed Kâramanèh in fine form, once again coming to Nayland's rescue.

If there had been no Kâramanèh in Rohmer's stories, I wonder if I'd bother thinking about them today? There are certainly some fine adventure tales in Rohmer's fiction - particularly his earlier fiction - but nothing especially remarkable. As with so much of the genre fiction I enjoy, it's the emotions of the characters which draw me in and the genuine relationship which develops between Petrie and Kâramanèh was the heart of the program; Nayland Smith, whom most consider the proper protagonist of the series (he's the only character to appear alongside Fu throughout), is rather dull; he often berates Petrie's feelings for Kâramanèh, even after all she had done to save both their skins. I feel Petrie's faith in her - and how she repeatedly came through for them - is to Rohmer's credit. I'm not going to claim he was a champion of civil rights, but for a man of his time and means, Rohmer wrote a terrific heroine.

Racism in the Sins of Séverac Bablon?

"Jews control all the money."

When did you first hear that little chestnut? I know I didn't learn of it from my day-to-day life; I first saw that phrase some time after I began using the internet in 1998...probably on the same day I learned what "anti-semitism" is.

Dear internet: thank you.

Seriously, it is better for you to know the messed-up things people think so you're better equipped to guard yourself against it. On the internet, everything is hyperbole* but in the real world someone who wants to convince you that, say, the Jews control the wealth of the world, would use guarded, subtle language (assuming they aim to be persuasive) to sway your thinking.

The internet has taught me so much about the terrible things people believe that I've become sensitive to phrases loaded with bias and ignorance. One of my personal pet peeves is our tendency to paint groups of people with the same brush. I believe in the uniqueness of individuals and hate to think of the characteristics of "groups;" it's dehumanizing. For instance, as someone deeply involved in the world of comics, it irks me to find references to comic book fans as a group (or "geek culture"); whether those references are meant as an insult or a compliment, "we" don't like the same things and the things we do like we do to varying degrees.

So. I've been reading Sax Rohmer's Sins of Séverac Bablon, one of his earliest novels, originally serialized in 1912. I'm something of a Rohmer apologist when it comes to matters of race because I have a theory that, in spite of how you feel about the popular conception of Fu Manchu, Rohmer's stories were a little more clever about race than you'd assume**. However, I had recently finished his book Fire-Tongue which was...needlessly racist***. So, Séverac Bablon deals with Jews; I was prepared for something pretty painful, especially when it turns out Séverac is a "gentleman thief" who preys upon wealthy Jews. Ah, this is where years of preparation for such racism pays off, right?

Having broken the ice, Sheard found his enforced task not altogether distasteful. It seemed wrong to him, unjust, and in strict disaccordance with the views of the Gleaner, that these thousands should be locked up for one man's pleasure, while starvation levied its toll upon the many. Moreover, he nurtured a temperamental distaste for the whole Semitic race -- a Western resentment of that insidious Eastern power.

After reading that paragraph, I was about ready to be done with the book, but I kept going. Moving forward, it became much more positive: not all of the wealthy Jews in the story are bad people, it's just a matter of how the story defines a "bad" wealthy Jew:

"Why do you make a victim of me?" he gasped. "Antony Elschild is--"

"Mr. Antony Elschild is a member of one of the greatest Jewish families in Europe, you would say? And his interests are wholly British? He has recognised that, Baron. I have his cheque for fifty thousand pounds!"

We gradually learn Bablon is himself Jewish and the (self-proclaimed) heir to the lineage of Israel's kings; as such, he's able to summon up allies at a moment's notice, which...come to think of it, that's not unlike some of the "Elders of Zion" conspiracy theories, is it?

"Gott im Himmel!" he said hoarsely. "Who are you? Why do you persecute those who are Jewish?"

"You are found guilty, Israel Hagar," resumed the merciless voice, "of dragging through the mire of greed -- through the sloughs of lust of gold -- a name once honoured among nations. It is such as you that have earned for the Jewish people a repute it ill deserves. Save for such as Mr. Antony Elschild, you and your like must have blotted out for ever all that is glorious in the Jewish name. Despite all, you have succeeded in staining it -- and darkly. I have a mission. It is to erase that stain. Therefore, when the list appears of those who wish to preserve intact the British Empire, your name shall figure amongst the rest!"

Bablon doesn't resort to physical violence, instead using clever extortion/blackmail plots to force the wealthy Jews into donating their money either to the poor or to fund England in World War I. Either way, this causes the supposedly patriotic/benevolent money masters to be viewed as solid citizens, thus repairing the reputation of Jewish people, as Bablon hoped.

I'm willing to cut Rohmer a lot of slack for this book because his Jews aren't all alike; some are British patriots, some are not; some use their wealth to help others, some are hoarders. Some of the hoarders aren't even that bad, they simply feel entitled to their money in a rather Libertarian way.

Part of what fascinates me about Séverac Bablon is how similar yet different he is from other leading characters in Rohmer's novels. By which I mean, Rohmer's heroes aren't normally Jewish. However, Rohmer was fascinated by all things "Eastern."

"The Jews are an Eastern people," replied Haredale. "That is the fact which is generally overlooked. They are, excepting one, the most remarkable people in the modern world."

After reading that line, I understood Rohmer's intentions much better. Rohmer's fascination with Séverac as a hero was much like that of Bimbashi Baruk (Bimbashi Baruk of Egypt), Moris Klaw (the Dream Detective) or Karamaneh (Fu Manchu). Rohmer especially loved Egyptian protagonists, which probably rank second next to Englishmen as the most common heroes of Rohmer's fiction. Séverac Bablon is, essentially, written like one of Rohmer's Egyptians. He even leads an entourage of Arab underlings at one point...I'm still not clear whether those were his Jewish followers in disguise or actual Arabs paying him homage (Bablon dons a lot of disguises in the course of the story).

At its heart, Séverac Bablon is much like E.W. Hornung's Raffles, with a few differences. In fact, the ways in which Bablon differs from Raffles point to what I believe are the weaknesses of Rohmer's story and the strengths of Hornung's:

1. A.J. Raffles has his friend Bunny Manders, a normal man introduced to a world of crime; Séverac Bablon has his friend Tom Sheard, a normal man introduced to a world of crime.
2. Raffles' adventures are narrated first-person by Bunny Manders; Bablon's adventures are narrated third-person.
3. Raffles has some minor allies, but must usually rely upon himself & Bunny; Bablon claims eight millions subjects and is never at a loss for assistance.
4. By following Bunny & Raffles through their schemes, we understand the dangers involved and are thrilled when Raffles' carefully-laid robberies go awry; we do not follow Bablon as he commits his crimes, instead viewing his activities through the perspective of his victims, who always fail to upset his carefully-laid plans.

The Sins of Séverac Bablon is not Raffles is what I'm trying to say, I think.

It's interesting how not knowing what Bablon's plans are make his activities less involving to read about. After the third or fourth time Bablon outwits the aristrocrats, police and private detectives you begin to see the patterns in how the victims-to-be prepare for Bablon's capture, only to fail each time and blunder into Bablon's trap. This was probably fine when the novel was first serialized, but taken as a whole, you could stop reading the Sins of Séverac Bablon halfway through and be assured you missed nothing extraordinary in the other half. Once Bablon's identity and purpose have been cleanly established, he becomes an unstoppable yet remote protagonist, usually absent from the narrative until it's time for him to outfox his enemies. I do wish the footing between Bablon and his foes were a touch more even. Again, like Raffles.

Ultimately, the Sins of Séverac Bablon wasn't as troubling as I feared early in the book; it's not altogether great either, but nowadays only a Sax Rohmer enthusiast would crack this one open; if you are a fellow enthusiast, you may find it a nice change of pace from the quasi-supernatural tales Rohmer usually wrote. It's not up there with Fu Manchu, Sumuru or Dope, mind you.

*= Including this.

**= I might have to write up my full essay on this one, but it would require a lot of preparation.

***= "If a man of colour paid his heathen attentions to my daughter--" Yeah, terrific. The "man of colour" in question does turn out to be the villain of the piece, but the first clue that's he's a suspicious character is when he makes respectful overtures to a white woman? Get off my plane!

Y kant Blackmask spel?

As a fan of older literature which have fallen into the public domain and yet are not readily available, I've made a few Amazon purchases to try and complete my collections of authors such as John Buchan and Sax Rohmer. Unfortunately, I soon discovered some of the public domain publishers were very fly-by-night - generic covers, spelling errors, punctuation errors, pages out-of-sequence; amongst these are a few samplings by the publisher Blackmask.

But! I chanced to notice Blackmask had a copy of Sax Rohmer's Bimbashi Baruk of Egypt and its cover certainly demonstrated a superior sense of design. Clearly if some effort had been put into the cover, surely this would be reflected in the contents as well? Look at the cover!

I was so pleased by the effort Blackmask made at being creative that I missed a certain unforgiveable typo. Bimbashi Baruk of... "Eygpt?!" Does no one at Blackmask have a copy of Word they could use to run spellcheck?

Needless to say, I'm done with buying public domain books from shady publishers like these.