BLOOD BROTHERS

Deanne Stillman’s book was more than the story of the friendship between Buffalo Bill Cody and the Lakota Chief, Sitting Bull. It was the history of both men after the 1876 Battle of the Little Bighorn (a.k.a. Custer’s Last Stand) until their deaths in 1890 (Sitting Bull) and 1917 (Buffalo Bill). This was well written and by far the most informative book about these two superstars (three, if you include Annie Oakley) of the late 1800s. Deanne put in a lot of information that I already knew, but it was necessary in order to tell the whole story. After the slaughter at Little Bighorn, Sitting Bull became Public Enemy No.1, even though he didn’t kill Lt. Col. Custer or lead the attack against the blue coats. His second in command, Crazy Horse, lead the attack. One must remember that the army attacked the Indian village first, thus precipitating a revenge attack by a combination of various tribes. I’ve often thought that the many different names of Indian tribes were just as confusing as the multiple names one Russian character holds in a classic Russian novel, such as Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. The Sioux are three tribes: the Lakota, Dakota and Nakota (all speaking different languages). Each tribe has many sub divisions, Sitting Bull is a Hunkpapa, which is a division of the Lakota, which in turn is part of the Sioux nation. Got It? Anyway, let’s review some of the main parts of this informative and compelling non fiction book. The first part involves Sitting Bull’s exit out of the USA into Canada.

“After the Battle of the Little Bighorn in 1876, Sitting Bull and his people were hounded and hunted for years. They found refuge in Canada, finally returning to the Great Plains five years later when the buffalo began to vanish in Canada as they already had in the United States. There was also another problem: Sitting Bull’s renegade Hunkpapa band of Lakota Sioux had lost the protection of the Canadian government, which had succumbed to pressure from American officials, sending the Indians south, across what Indians called the Medicine Line, into their homeland, where they became prisoners of war.” Sitting Bull called the head of government in Canada, the Grandmother (I’m assuming he was referring to Queen Victoria) and he called the President of the USA, the Grandfather. The newspapers across the nation stated, Sitting Bull Surrenders! “Public Enemy Number One had been captured and America should no longer fear the man who single-handedly killed Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer on the Little Bighorn battlefield. It was of no consequence that Sitting Bull did not participate in the final siege; Crazy Horse, the other leader of the assault on the Seventh Cavalry, had already been killed, and it mattered only that Sitting Bull, the remaining figurehead, had been rendered powerless.” Sitting Bull and his people surrendered at Fort Buford, North Dakota on 7/19/1881. “All together, there were 188 Lakota men, women, and children coming in that day. Their clothing was rotten and falling apart, and some were covered only in dirty blankets.” Sitting Bull was dressed as a ragamuffin. “But they did not know that for Sitting Bull, his dress that day was something of a choice; it would not have befitted a Lakota leader to look better than his people...his appearance was misunderstood by his captors (for the umpteenth time).” The Wasichu (whiteman) just didn’t understand the Indians. All this happened in the first nine pages.

Let’s meet Buffalo Bill Cody. “In Europe, he was known as “Nature’s Nobleman,” a frontier self-sufficient with the sophistication of Western civilization; in America, he was “King of the Old West”- a title he deserved. He was a hunter, scout, shooter, rider, warrior, teller of tall tales, and a man of adventure par excellence. His experience in city and plain rendered him a kind of wise man, and presidents and generals sought his advice. His friends included Frederic Remington and Mark Twain and Pawnee chiefs; broncbusters who could drink him under the table and might have even been better riders; archdukes from foreign lands and ranch cooks who needed a job. He was open to all, he had no airs. What you saw was what you got, even if what you saw was sometimes a mirage. “He was the simplest of men,” as Annie Oakley would say at the end of his life, “as comfortable with cowboys as with kings.” “On May 19, 1883, Buffalo Bill launched his equine extravaganza in Omaha, Nebraska. The progenitor of the spectacle that Cody would take into history, it was called The Wild West, WF Cody and WF Carver’s Rocky Mountain and Prairie Exhibition. Interestingly, the title of the Wild West did not include the word show - it was not presented as something removed from the frontier, but rather as the Wild West itself.” Later in the year Cody’s steamer carrying his show collided with another steamer and sunk. The Wild West lost $60,000 that year (no small sum at the time). Then Cody met Annie Oakley. “After she demonstrated her skills, Cody hired her immediately. Together, she and Buffalo Bill would take the frontier spectacle to new heights of glamour and excitement.” The final piece of the show was the hiring of Sitting Bull. Cody had tried to hire the chief for two years to no avail. When Sitting Bull found out that Annie Oakley joined the show (he met her in St. Paul), “...he was ready to entertain an offer from the wasichu who was also named for the buffalo."

So you got a 56 page taste of this non fiction book. What happens after Sitting Bull joins the Wild West Show and his subsequent assassination by the Indian police on his Standing Rock Indian Reservation is a matter of history. Isn’t it peculiar that this story starts with Sitting Bull’s 1876 participation in Little Bighorn and ends with the tragedy of the 1890 Wounded Knee massacre in South Dakota. Yet he was a peaceful man...he just wanted his people to be left alone. He so wanted to make peace with Grandfather. So sad.

RATING: 5 out of 5 stars

Comment: The writer’s prose was terrific. I’ll close out my review with her beautiful paragraph that I call Imagine:

“Imagine being born into a world where your tribe was the most powerful in all the land and within that being born at the climax of its power. Imagine that in your lifetime, you witnessed a thing that consumed nearly everything you loved and were nourished by and that nearly everyone you cherished or parlayed with was destroyed, altered, killed, or locked up. Imagine being a person who lived through such a thing, sought to head it off directly and softly, was both celebrated and hated for doing so, and yet, because of an alliance with the natural world and it with you, saw the whole thing coming - even your own end. And then, finally, imagine embracing life with all of your might and force, your generosity and joy, trying to contain the wellspring of sorrow and blood that was flooding your world and drowning it, knowing that a river cannot be stopped but that there are many different ways to ride it. This was Sitting Bull’s fate and condition, and this is how it unfolded.”

Imagine.

MINETTA LANE

The Author sent me a copy of his novel to read and review:

After reviewing A. Robert Allen’s first two novels in his Slavery and Beyond series, Failed Moments (see my review of 7/3/2015) and A Wave from Mama (see my review of 8/16/2016), I knew two things: The new story would bring us to the early 1900s and would be totally different from the first two novels. Well, guess what? I was right on the money. His storytelling is still good, but once again I think (that) the prose is a little weak and lacks a certain flamboyance. I know the author is trying to tell the story of the Black Peoples' struggle through the years (in this case, about 40 years after The Civil War), but I’m not completely feeling the empathy thing. Yes, he has me cheering on the sidelines for the downtrodden, but I don’t feel the kind of sadness I felt for Harriet Beecher Stowe’s lovable and long suffering Uncle Tom (that may be a unfair comparison). It’s not there, maybe it’s not supposed to be there. Was it a good story? Yes, but not a memorable one. I think that with his third novel of the series behind him, he has gotten closer to the traits I’m looking for...closer, but still no cigar. Is A. Robert Allen capable of getting to where I think he should be in his next novel? I say he is skilled enough in his storytelling but needs to become a better wordsmith.

The story centers around a tough neighborhood known as The Bend and particularly on Minetta Lane (the most dangerous block in the city) in 1904 NYC. Twenty year old Bodee Rivers arrives at his grandma’s house after the recent passing of his mom. Bodee is a tall and thin shy black man that previously tried out for a Brooklyn Negro League baseball team (he could run like the wind, but couldn’t hit). He hasn’t seen his grandma most of his life, because grandma Juba, and her daughter, Akua (Bodee’s mom), were in a life long conflict (reasons unknown to Bodee). The Neighborhood is a mixture of blacks, bars, whorehouses and a Irish mafia type gang similar to the gang in the 2002 movie, Gangs of New York. The Blacks and the Irish are respectful to Juba, because they believe her to be a female voodoo priest. Juba’s friend in the streets is Blood, who provides the brawn in The Bend. But the Irish gang, The Whyos, have a new recruit by the name of Arlin McFarland from Chicago, who seems to want to make a name for himself. Is he going to cause trouble in The Bend? On page thirteen, grandma Juba takes the newly arrived Bodee on a walking tour of the neighborhood, “Bodee, these houses along here are all whorehouses. Some are connected to the bars, like the one across the street-a place called Tigress. No sign out front, but that the name, trust me. Next door is a mixed bar called Snake Eyes where our local Black folk drink with the Irish gangsters, and the whores from Tigress work the club for customers. Nothing for a twenty-year-old boy. Understand?”

As Bodee looks for a job (on page fifteen), he is met with bigotry as he applies for a lifeguard job on pier six, “I want to apply for the lifeguard job because I swim real well. They say I’m a natural.” The man (white) laughed under his breath. “Hold your thought and wait right here, I’ll be right back.” The man brings two other white men back with him and have a lot of laughs considering Bodee for the job. “After two more minutes of finger-pointing, back-slapping, and general hysteria, one of the men put his hand up and the other two quieted down.” “Thanks for the laugh, you stupid Darkey. Do you think anyone wants your Black ass in this pool? We’d need to drain it after each time you went in-the fancy word is called contamination. That’s what you are, boy, pure and simple. No decent White folk gonna want to go into any water you touched.” The thing is that that kinda thinking went on for a long time, even when I was a boy in the 1950s (I love using that that). So unfair! What were the Whites thinking? Anyway, Bodee just happened to see that job available on a flyer laying in the street. He really wanted a full-time clerk’s job in a office. The streetwise Blood tells Bodee that Snake Eyes (the bar Juba warned him about) needs to hire a numbers man. He says, “They want to hire some kind of clerk. Opens around noon. Ask for Silvy. Tell him I sent you.” Silvy tests Bodee on figures and percentages, which Bodee passes with flying colors. Then he finds out that Silvy also wants him to read him the newspaper (Bodee thinks that Silvy thinks he can’t read). Silvy says, “No boy, I’m the one who don’t read so fast! Takes me all day to read the front page, so this will be our deal-you come in here every day around this time. Take care of the bills and explain the stories to me and I’ll give you a few dollars. Don’t want you in here after four - things change later in the day. Not the kind of place where you want to be. Deal?” “Works for me," said Bodee.

On page 32 (the last page of my review), a very unfortunate incident happened to Bodee: Finished for the day, Bodee rushed out the door, stepping backward as he joked, “Need to go to the Sun to complain about the St. Louis World’s Fair-like everyone else! Bodee backpedaled through the front door, and when he attempted to turn around, he bumped into Arlin McFarland - a new member of the Whyos gang. Bodee’s momentum propelled the Irishman into a lamppost, which struck his back with force.” Readers, I will stop here, because the poop is going to hit the fan. This is where the author’s story ignites. What will happen? You will have to buy your own copy to find out. Did I make this story rousing or what?

RATING: 4 out of 5 stars

Comment: This should be my last review for this author, because it’s the third review for him. I get so many request from authors all over the world to read and review their books that three reviews for any author is already too much. I have to move on and read other writers, nascent and classic authors alike. Mr. A. Robert Allen, I enjoyed reading your novels...good luck in the future.

GOD'S LITTLE ACRE

Erskine Caldwell’s 1933 novel God’s Little Acre is Southern Gothic at its best. Is it better than his 1932 novel Tobacco Road? The jury is still out on that verdict, but I thoroughly enjoyed the 1933 novel. The vernacular language of the 1930’s Georgia/Carolina (the full name of South Carolina was never mentioned) was highly readable, while retaining the slang of the times. An example of that is when the patriarch of the 45 acre farm, Ty Ty Walden, bemoaned the fact that one of his sons, Shaw, dropped his shovel and wanted to go to town, “Why in the pluperfect hell can’t he let the women alone? There ain’t no sense in a man going rutting every day in the whole year. The women will wear Shaw to a frazzle...he ought to be satisfied just to sit at home and look at the girls in the house.” Ty Ty uses the word pluperfect throughout the novel as well as the terms: as sure as God makes little green apples...and that’s a fact. This novel was banned for a long time in many states because it was considered pornographic. While there are a lot of promiscuous sexual happenings amongst the Walden family, they would hardly be considered pornographic in today’s standards...maybe it would have a “R” rating at best. Even with all those restrictions, the novel still sold 10 million copies.

So Ty Ty Walden has been digging up his farm looking for gold for fifteen years with the help of his boys Buck and Shaw. His other son, Jim Leslie (a cotton broker) left a long time ago to marry a rich girl and live in a big white house on a hill in the city. Ty Ty has two darkies (the author’s words, not mine), Black Sam and Uncle Felix, planting cotton on a small parcel of the land (they also dig when not plowing). On page thirteen, Ty Ty tells Pluto Swint, who is running for sheriff, about the one acre he has set aside, “You see that piece of ground over yonder, Pluto? Well, that’s God’s little acre. I set aside an acre of this place, and every year I give the church all that comes off that acre of ground. If it’s cotton, I give the church all the money the cotton brings at market. The same with hogs, when I raised them, and about corn, too, when I plant it. That’s God’s little acre, Pluto. I’m proud to divide what little I have with God.” Unfortunately, Ty Ty hasn’t planted or raised anything on that acre for many years. And he keeps moving the acre around when he decides to dig there. Most of his farm is pock marked with giant holes and high piles of dirt and clay.`Ty Ty’s daughter, Darling Jill is a real looker, while Buck’s Wife, Griselda, is considered the prettiest girl in the county. A third daughter, Rosamond, lives in Carolina with her husband, Will, in a cotton mill town. Buck hates Will and calls him a lint-head, because cotton mill workers always have residue cotton fibers in their hair. Will and his co-workers have been on strike against the mill for eighteen months. The entire Walden family (except Jim Leslie) are dirt poor.

Pluto, who loves Darling Jill, tells Ty Ty that a albino man has been spotted near the swamp. The darkies say that an all-white man can divine (locate) a lode. They believe in the power of conjuring. Ty Ty and his boys drive to the swamp in hopes of capturing the all-white man. They capture the albino in his house by the swamp and bring him back to the farm. Sometimes this novel makes me laugh (it’s not supposed to). Uncle Felix keeps guard on Dave, the albino, but he really doesn’t have to since Dave has eyes for Darling Jill. So funny (this novel isn’t a comedy, but sometimes it seemed like one). The next day, Pluto ask Ty Ty, “Did he divine for you, Ty Ty?” “Just like four and four makes eight,” Ty Ty said. “When we got him here and told him what he was to do, why the first thing he did was to point out that spot where the new hole is now. He said that was the place to dig for the lode. And that’s where it is.” There is a lot of excitement in the ensuing pages. Who has sex with who? Who or how many in the family will die or be murdered? How about the cotton mill strike? Does Ty Ty find his gold? This was a great story of the final decline of a poor white family in rural Georgia that had me hooked from page one to the last few pages, which were fateful or fatal...depending on who the character was.

RATING: 5 out of 5 stars

Comment: The novel was turned into a major motion picture in 1958. The cast included: Robert Ryan as Ty Ty, Tina Louise as Griselda, Aldo Ray as Will, Buddy Hackett as Pluto Swint, Jack Lord as Buck, Michael Landing as Dave (the albino), Fay Spain as Darlin’ Jill, Vic Morrow as Shaw, Helen Westcott as Rosamond, Rex Ingram as Uncle Felix and Lance Fuller as Jim Leslie. Wow, what a cast! How much would it cost in today’s money to have all those stars in the same movie?

GABLES COURT

The author sent me an autographed copy of his novel to read and review:

Alan S. Kessler writes another novel displaying his storytelling abilities. However, like Clarence Olgibee (see my review of 5/20/2016), there isn’t anything memorable about the story. In my review of Clarence Olgibee, I said, “What is this novel about? What is the point of this story?” Well, ditto on his latest novel. This man can write, but he hasn’t come up with a story that he can run to the bank with yet. There are edit errors in the novel that should have been corrected before publication. And is our hero’s name Samuel Baas, or Samuel Bass? That’s the $64,000 question. The writing style is good, the prose is good, but the story is just a story. Mr. Kessler, put your thinking cap on and impress me with a haunting tale that I will not forget. It doesn’t have to be the Great American Novel, like Uncle Tom’s Cabin (see my review of 12/9/2012), just something poignant. Anyway, I don’t want the readers think that I don’t like Kessler’s work, his knack for using complex and flawed characters is surprisingly good, but his stories seem to lack direction. Alright, let’s talk about this novel.

The main activities are in a apartment complex called Gables Court in Coral Gables, Florida and in a local Law office. Samuel Baas has just arrived after graduating from law school. His father (a mobster) has paid for a apartment in Gables Court and secured a job for him at RHB Enterprises as a lawyer. Once he arrives, he thinks to himself, “Father wanted me to be a lawyer. He kept me out of Vietnam and got me into law school. Now I have a job because he made a phone call.” Samuel meets three high schoolers (Gary, Benny and Wolfman) by the pool and becomes friends with Gary. Samuel inspects his room and finds out that the a/c doesn’t work and there are big roaches (palmetto bugs) that stink running around. He complains to the useless manager, Mr. Harry Lipman, to no avail. Mr. Lipman is too busy running favors for his fat wife, Rosalyn, who constantly buzzes him with her hand beeper.

He also meets a college student, Kate, who also lives there and is going to a local college. Samuel falls in love with her. The next day Samuel walks to the RHB office for his first day of work, where he meets the chain smoking secretary, Vera, and his new boss, Mr. Eldridge (a lawyer who has never been to court). Samuel is sweating from the walk, because his Ford Pinto hasn’t arrived from Massachusetts yet. Mr. Eldridge tells Samuel that they represent a important developer, Mr. Baxter (a slumlord), and he wants Samuel to sign eviction notices for Baxter. Vera dropped a load of files on the table. “These are the evictions. Just don’t sit there, open one up...you’re looking at the complaint. Name of plaintiff, defendant, rent due, copy of the lease. You sign, we file, and the sheriff serves it.” Later, a beautiful girl (they are all beautiful in this novel, except Vera) named Susan comes in and tells Samuel, “I’m taking orders for lunch. What can I get you?” She works down the hall at the travel agency and takes lunch orders at 11:00 everyday. Don't worry, there are some exciting parts later.

The above review of the first 28 pages is typical of what happens throughout the story. It’s a okay story, but about what? Okay, his young friend Gary thinks he will become a millionaire by selling a gas additive that will give the consumer 50% more mileage per tank full. Nobody buys it. Samuel bails him out by telling him (that) his father will buy his supply ($3,000), but secretly, Samuel buys it with his own money. Samuel doesn’t want sex until he is married but is lured by Kate anyway. And when he proposes to her on one knee, she says, “Never kneel to anyone. I’m very disappointed in you. I told you what’s important to me and you forgot. Stop. Don’t interrupt. Just listen. I’m going to medical school. I don’t intend to be anyone’s little wife.” Then she invites him to a spaghetti and meatball dinner after she chews him out. Haha. I said in the first paragraph that Kessler only uses flawed characters and there are plenty in this novel.There were a lot of funny parts in this story, but I’m not sure it was meant to be a comedy. There are more bits and pieces and unique situations that come up in this story (especially when the mob takes over), but overall it was similar to the Seinfeld show...a book about nothing (but Seinfeld made a fortune doing nothing). I have to give this novel a better rating than I gave his previously reviewed work because the author made me chuckle frequently.

RATING: 4 out of 5 stars

Comment: I mentioned one of the Great American Novels in the first paragraph. What are some of the other nominees? I’ve done reviews on many other candidates, but I especially liked: Joseph Heller’s 1961 novel, Catch-22 (see my review of 2/17/2013) and Mark Twain’s 1884 novel, Huckleberry Finn (see my review of 12/17/2012).  

Some of the other novels that I haven’t reviewed, but read are: James Fenimore Cooper’s 1826 novel The Last of the Mohicans; Harper Lee’s 1960 novel To Kill a Mockingbird; F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1925 novel The Great Gatsby and John Steinbeck’s 1939 novel The Grapes of Wrath.    

The Tabernacle of Legion

The author sent me a copy of his novel to read and review:

This prototype sci-fi thriller has a lot going on at the same time that eventually melds into one innovative story. In my opinion, Kevin Schillo’s first novel is a big-time success. I couldn’t resolve what concept I liked the best; is it: the awakening of a 70,000 year old being who was found frozen in a block of ice in the Antarctica, or the discovery of a three billion year old alien artifact buried in a asteroid, or the eventual meeting of these two events? Based on the author’s credentials in aerospace engineering, the technical aspect of the story was smooth as ice (no pun intended). He didn’t frustrate the reader with a lot of technical jargon (that) the reader wouldn’t understand anyway. So I’ll review the very early stages of these happenings in order to whet your appetite for this novel.    

First, the 70,000 year old being. At Niflheim Research Station, Antarctica: Paul Kivi, a climatologist, finds a block of ice containing a man later determined to be 70,000 years old. Anna Landes, chief physician and biochemist at Niflheim, names the specimen Ask, who according to Norse mythology, is the mate of Embla.  On page 38, Anna says, “There’s no trace of ice crystals anywhere in the tissue sample that I took. His cells are completely intact.” That’s not possible since, “when human tissue is frozen, ice crystals form within the cells and destroy the cells’ integrity.” She later says, “He seems to possess antifreeze proteins. Various species of fish and insects have such proteins that allow them to survive in frigid environments without having ice crystals form in their cells. Seeing this in a human is the most amazing thing I’ve ever observed.” Does Anna make a regretful mistake by saying, “I’m going to perform an autopsy.”? You must read the novel to find out what happens during and after the autopsy, but later in the book, the reader learns that Legion (who or what is that?) was responsible for Ask’s imprisonment in the ice. “Ask knew that Legion had directly intervened with baseline (human) history at least once, and that had been millennia ago when they had given him his nanomachines. It was an incredible gift. In addition to enabling him to change his appearance and probe baselines’ minds, the nanomachines also altered his physiology, allowing him to heal from any injury, immunized him against any disease, kept his body perpetually young, and permitted him to survive in hostile environments ranging from barren deserts to the frozen wastes of the polar ice caps. The gift effectively made Ask immortal.” Are you interested yet? How does Ask tie into the alien artifact story? Why was he buried here on Earth 70,000 years ago? What would you do after a 70 millennium sleep? Would you be grumpy?

Okay, what about the three billion year old alien artifact? Miles Gilster, Founder of IE (Interplanetary Enterprises), is the richest man on earth. He runs an asteroid mining company that mines precious metals, such as gold, silver, platinum, cobalt, nickel and iridium. He does this by having robotic miners excavate the metals off asteroids. The miners are self replicating and even build the transporters that bring the treasure back to Earth. Miles also runs tours from the Earth to the moon and back with the capacity to billet five space tourists, who spend a week at IE’s facility and on the lunar surface. His best astronaut, Mark de Rijk, commands the moon tour ship. Miles is in the process of building the world’s first fusion propulsion spacecraft meant to carry tourist to Mars and back in record time (and for record profits). Government space agencies around the world combined to have a joint exploratory base on Mars, but transportation to Mars and back via the two Cycler spacecraft (the Aldrin and the Armstrong) took five months to get there and eight months to get back to Earth. Recently, IE had a new miner land on an asteroid that has never been mined. Desmond Berens of IE was observing the miner's progress and suddenly realized “that the miner had not been able to penetrate through an inch of rock in more than three hours.” Alexis Razol, the only other employee in the room, asked, “Is there a problem with it?” Desmond said, “No...everything is working perfectly fine. It’s just not able to get through the material that it’s encountered.” They are positive there is nothing wrong with drills. The miner’s sensors cannot determine what it’s trying to drill through. “Alexis pulled up a video feed, showing the miner at the bottom of the shaft it had dug in the asteroid.” It could drill no further, whatever it was appeared to absorb all light. “In fact, it doesn’t seem to be emitting or reflecting any detectable electromagnetic radiation.” That’s why it’s so black. “All indications are that it is absorbing 100% of incoming radiation.” On page 26, Alexis tells Desmond that the black thing is artificial. “Okay,” Desmond said slowly. “So it’s artificial. The question is: who put it there? And why?” After Miles Gilster  sees what’s happening with the miner on the asteroid, he says, “You found a fucking alien artifact!” What’s going to happen now?

I was reminded of Arthur C. Clarke’s 1968 sci-fi novel 2001: A Space Odyssey while I was reading this novel, which by the way, is also mentioned in Kevin Schillo’s book by one of his characters. Was the artifact found on the asteroid a beacon to start life like the monoliths in Clarke’s novel? Or was it something foreboding? Or something else? You have 361 exciting pages to find all the answers...or will the author keep you guessing? The author’s prose was developed enough for the reader to have empathy for all the characters. But the author saved his best writing for the conversation between IE’S atheist astronaut, Mark de Rijk, and his parish priest brother, David, during the time they spent together discussing how the finding of an alien artifact would affect the world’s religions. That was very introspective. Good job of storytelling. The last 54 pages of this thriller are electric...well worth the price of admission in itself!

RATING: 5 out of 5 stars

Comment: In the acknowledgements, the author thanks four people who supported an endeavor he pursued during a trying period in his life. All four friends are namesakes in Kevin’s novel: Mark de Rijk, Adam Hernandez, Miles Gilster and Jedediah Storey. Through a email, the author assures me that he is currently writing the sequel to The Tabernacle of Legion. He states that he will answer all the unanswered questions in that sequel. I hope so, because I have a lot to ask.

This was one of the best indie books (that) I’ve ever read...bar none. It’s the kind of novel that would be picked by Hollywood had it been published by a major house. I’m reminded of one of my favorite sci-fi novels that started out as a indie, later published by Simon & Schuster with the film rights sold to 20th Century Fox. What is this novel? It’s Hugh Howey’s 2011 novel, Wool (see my review of 1/21/2016). So there you go, Mr. Kevin Schillo...it can be done. Now, if you are wondering about the next novel in this series...does We're off to see the Wizard ring a bell?

Rambling Comments #5

It’s been almost four years since I did one of these columns...today’s the day. I’m going to tell you about a 63 page short story that I just read. This is not a review. You will not find this on Amazon.com, or Goodreads.com...not anywhere but here. I’m gonna tell you all about it because chances are (that) you will never read it. If you are going to read it...stop right here. It was written in 1940 by a little known author, Harry Bates. This story is significant because it spawned one of the most impactful science fiction movies of all time. It gave birth to the 1951 black and white movie The Day the Earth Stood Still, starring Michael Rennie (as Klaatu), Patricia Neal, Billy Gray, Hugh Marlowe and Sam Jaffe (as the professor). I’m not going to talk about that stupid 2008 remake starring Keanu Reeves as Klaatu. It was an embarrassment. Quoting sci-fi writer, Dennis Herrick, “The theme is the major difference between the short story and the movie. The atomic bomb had not been invented yet when Bates wrote the short story. The story was published in the October 1940 issue of Astounding, a science fiction stories magazine.” Once I start telling you the story, you will realize that other than the ship landing in Washington D.C (even that is dissimilar because in Bate’s short story the ship just appears out of nowhere) and the two time travelers having the same name (Klaatu), it’s a totally different scenario. Even the eight foot tall robot’s name is not Gort, but Gnut. Bates calls Klaatu a time traveler because the ship just materialized like it passed through a wormhole. Anyway, Dennis Herrick further states, “Bates’s Farewell to the Master went against the grain of most sci-fi stories of the time, aliens were usually described as menacing, aggressive, and murderous. In Bates’s story, aliens possess good moral character. The alien Klaatu looked like a benign god. The giant alien robot Gnut is immensely powerful but also capable of sadness and gentleness.” This commentary might take awhile, so if you have to go to the bathroom...go now. By the way (in the movie) Klaatu tells Helen (Patricia Neal) that should anything happen to him, she must go to Gort and say, Klaatu Barada Nikto. That line never appears in Bates’s story.

It appeared in a blink of the eye. “The ship appeared and just sat here. No one emerged, and there was no sign that it contained life of any kind. That, as much as any single thing, caused excitement to skyrocket. Who, or what, was inside? Were the visitors hostile or friendly? Where did the ship come from? How did it arrive so suddenly on this spot without dropping from the sky?” It sat there for two days. “And where was the ship’s entrance port? Men who dared go look reported that none could be found. No slightest break or crack marred the perfect smoothness of the ship’s curving ovoid surface. And a delegation of high-ranking officials who visited the ship could not, by knocking, elicit from its occupants any sign that they had been heard.” Is this an exciting story or what? Especially since I told you that it’s not the same as the movie. “At last, after exactly two days, in full view of tens of thousands of persons assembled and standing well back, and under the muzzles of scores of the army’s most powerful guns and ray projectors, an opening appeared in the wall of the ship, and a ramp slid down. And out stepped a man, godlike in appearance and human in form, closely followed by a giant robot. And when they touched the ground the ramp slid back and the entrance closed as before.” The stranger appeared to be friendly to the assembled thousands who witnessed what happened. As a large group of high-ranking government officials and army officers approached the alien, he said in perfect English, “I am Klaatu and this is Gnut.” And then from a treetop a hundred yards away, a shot rang out. Klaatu was dead, “The police pulled the slayer of Klaatu out of the tree. They found him mentally unbalanced.” Gnut was behind his master when Klaatu was killed. Gnut slowly turned his body towards him, moved his head twice, and then stood still. Klaatu was buried in a mausoleum in the Tidal Basin, and the Smithsonian Institution built a new wing around the ship and robot and started giving tours. The robot and ship were too heavy to be moved. All of our best metallurgists failed to break into the ship and they couldn’t find anyway to penetrate Gnut’s internals.

The story’s narrator, Cliff Sutherland, a freelance picture reporter, tells the readers that the site became a tourist attraction. A Mr. Stillwell recorded the info presentation that blared through the speakers to the visitors. At the end of the tour, the recorded voice would say, “You will be allowed to remain five minutes longer, and then, when the gong sounds, you will please leave promptly. The robot attendants along the wall will answer any questions you may have.” Since Cliff (from viewing his previous photos) thought that Gnut had somehow moved a fraction from the previous day, he hid in the building until closing time. As darkness set in, Cliff felt that Gnut’s red eyes followed him no matter where he went. Cliff settled in for a period of waiting. “And so it was that when Gnut did move Cliff was scared almost out of his wits. Dull and a little bored, he suddenly found the robot out on the floor, halfway in his direction.” The frightening thing was that he didn’t catch him moving! “For a moment Cliff all but fainted, and when he recovered, there was Gnut towering over him, legs almost within reach. He was bending slightly, burning his terrible eyes right into his own!” Cliff waited to be squashed like a bug. “And then suddenly and unexpectedly it was over. Gnut’s body straightened and he stepped back. He turned. And then, with the almost jerkless rhythm which only he among robots possessed, he started back toward the place from which he came.” Gnut went to the ship (the author calls the ship, the traveler) and utters some curious sounds and a doorway opens and a ramp slides down. Gnut goes into the traveler, and then the opening closes. Cliff was so scared that he forgot to take pictures. So he positions his camera to take a picture of the ramp connecting with the opened door when Gnut comes out of the ship. Hours passed. What’s he doing in there? “More time passed, and then, some time after two o’clock in the morning, a simple homely thing happened, but a thing so unexpected that for a moment it quite destroyed Cliff’s equilibrium...there was a faint whir of wings, soon followed by the piercing, sweet voice of a bird. A mockingbird.” How did the mockingbird get into this museum? It’s December, not spring.

Cliff didn’t notice, but Gnut was now out of the ship. The mockingbird fell out of the sky. It was dead. Gnut picked it up and went back in the ship. “Hours passed while Cliff waited for some sequel to this surprising happening.” Once again he failed to take a picture of Gnut moving around. Cliff took off his shoes and quitely hid behind one of the six robot attendants. The next thing Cliff saw was a dark shape that bounded out of the port quickly followed by Gnut. It was a gorilla! The gorilla and Gnut fought. The gorilla began tearing the robot attendants apart, one by one. Still Cliff is forgetting to take any pictures. Before the gorilla could come to the robot attendant that Cliff was hiding behind, “It dropped heavily on one side, rocked back and forth a few times, and fell twitching. Then it lay still and did not move again. As dawn crept into the room, Gnut’s heavy greenish features displayed a thoughtful, grieving expression towards the dead gorilla. He gently picked up the gorilla and brought it inside the ship." Cliff hid until 8:30 in the morning when, “there were noises at the entrance, and the good sound of human voices came to his ears.” He heard running feet, as he stealthily sneaked out, he looked back and Gnut was standing in his accustomed place, in the identical pose he had taken at the death of his master. Later, safe in his hotel room, he staggered over to the bed. “He did not wake up til mid-afternoon.” After he woke up, he went to a nearby restaurant patronized by newsmen. There he heard what he knew he would hear...the shit hit the fan at the museum. Cliff went back to the museum, showed his press credentials, and gained admission. They were cleaning up the mess, piling the broken robot attendants along the wall. Another reporter told Cliff that they found a number of short dark brown hairs. “Those hairs came off a large male gorilla...most of them were found on the robot attendants...and that’s blood, diluted-gorilla blood. It was found on Gnut’s arms.” Cliff realized that he had only two still photos, none involving any action. He decided that he had to go back for a second night.

If this recapitulation is too long, take a break and come back tomorrow for the surprise ending! Once again, I would like to reiterate that this is not a review. I’m telling the story. Did you notice there isn’t a professor (Sam Jaffe), or a potential love interest (Patricia Neal)? That’s because Bates killed off Klaatu as soon as he got off the spaceship. I wonder if George R. R. Martin, author of A Game of Thrones, got his “surprise kill” ideas from Bates. Oh, well.

                                                          

So Cliff snuck back into the museum the next night with the intention of getting some action photos. This time, besides his camera, he brought along a Mikton ray gun in case he ran into anymore gorillas. Once again, Cliff hid under the table of supplies in the laboratory. “He settled down to wait, keeping Gnut in full sight every minute. Hours slowly passed. From time to time he heard slight noises at the entrance. At about nine o’clock he saw Gnut move.” Like last night, Gnut walked over to Cliff and stared at him with bright red eyes. Cliff trembled all over, “You would not hurt me”, he pleaded. “I was only curious to see what’s going on. It’s my job. Can you understand me? I would not harm or bother you. I...I couldn’t if I wanted to. Please!” Cliff doesn’t know if the giant robot heard him or understood him. Gnut reached down and took something from a drawer of the table that Cliff was hiding behind. Gnut turned around and went into the ship. Cliff was in the dark for two hours while the robot was in the ship. Suddenly, Cliff heard muffled sounds from inside the ship...very familiar words. “Gentlemen,” was the first, and then there was a very slight pause. “The Smithsonian Institution welcomes you to its new Interplanetary Wing and to the marvelous exhibits at this moment before you.” My God, it was Stillwell’s voice, the man who recorded the exhibit’s tour. “For just a moment there was silence. Then came a scream, a hoarse man’s scream, muffled, from somewhere within the heart of the ship.” Abruptly, Stillwell flew out of the ship and stumbled towards Cliff with Gnut right behind him. Stillwell asked Cliff where he was and how did he get here. He told Cliff, “I was making a lecture recording when suddenly I found myself here.” Stillwell said he felt weak, then he fell on the floor...and then he died. Gnut looked sad, picked up Stillwell and laid him by the wall where he had stacked the dismembered pieces of the robot attendants the night before. Then he went back into the ship.

What is Gnut experimenting with in the ship that enabled him to bring a bird, gorilla and now a man into this complex? And why did they promptly die? One by one, Gnut brought out the bodies of the gorilla and the mockingbird, and laid them in the pile by the wall. Gnut was obviously cleaning house in his ship. Finally, Cliff went over to the pile to see the bodies of the gorilla, the mockingbird and the one of Stillwell, but wait there was a fourth body. “What he saw made him catch his breath. Impossible, he thought. There was some confusion in his directions. He brought his face back, close to the first body. Then his blood ran cold. The first body was that of Stillwell, but the last in the row was Stillwell, too. There were two bodies of Stillwell, both exactly alike, both dead.” What is going on? “Cliff backed away with a cry, and then panic took him and he ran down the room away from Gnut and yelled and beat wildly on the door. There was a noise on the outside.” “Let me out!” he yelled in terror. “Let me out! Let me out! Oh, hurry!” The door opened and Cliff ran out like a wild animal and then stopped and looked at the building. “As he looked, the grounds about the building came to life. Several people collected at the door of the wing. Above sounded the siren of a police copter, then in the distance another, and from all sides people came running, a few at first, then more and more. The police planes landed on the lawn just outside the door of the wing, and he thought he could see the officers peeping inside. Then suddenly the lights of the wing flooded on. In control of himself now, Cliff went back.” Of course Gnut was standing motionless in his usual spot. “The ship’s door was closed, and the ramp gone. But the bodies, the four strangely assorted bodies, were still lying by the demolished robot attendants where he had left them in the dark.” Then Cliff was recognized, “This is the man!” the guard shouted. “When I opened the door this man forced his way out and ran like the devil.”

“The police officers converged on Cliff.” At this point, Cliff is the only witness to what happened the last two nights in the compound, even though he had little pictorial evidence. But everybody knows that something “out of this world” happened. Will he cooperate with the police? Yes and no. Yes he will, but not till he makes a lot of money from his eye witness account. “What were you doing?” the officer asked, eyeing him. “And where did these bodies come from?” “Gentlemen, I’d tell you gladly -only business first,” Cliff answered. “There’s been some fantastic goings-on in this room, and I saw them and have the story, but - ” he smiled, - "I must decline to answer without advice of counsel until I’ve sold my story to one of the news syndicates. You know how it is. If you’ll allow me the use of the radio in your plane - just for a moment, gentlemen - you’ll have the whole story afterward. Say in half an hour, when the television men broadcast it. Meanwhile, believe me, there’s nothing for you to do, and there’ll be no loss by the delay.” Cliff made a deal with a news syndicate that paid him a lot of money...then he told his story to the world. Afterwards, he spent the night in jail before being released. Then a Federal agent grabbed him and said, “You’re wanted for further questioning over at the Continental Bureau of Investigation.” Cliff had no choice but to go with the agent. Thirty-five high ranking officials were at the meeting. After listening to Cliff’s story again, they decided to encase Gnut in a transparent block of glasstex. Cliff then learns that Stillwell is alive and that the two others at the museum were copies. Cliff was allowed to watch the pouring of glasstex on Gnut, while he sat alone fifteen feet above the ground in a tree outside the compound. He commanded a clear view of Gnut through a museum window. Cliff is armed with his infrared viewing magnifier, a radio mike and a infrared TV eye with sound pickup. Hours passed. The moon came out. Gnut is still stationary in his block of plastic.

“Then, suddenly, Cliff saw something and quickly bent his eye to the viewing magnifier. Gnut’s eyes were moving, at least the intensity of the light emanating from them varied. It was as if two tiny red flashlights were turned from side to side, their beams at each motion crossing Cliff’s eyes.” Was Gnut making an attempt to break out of his block of plastic? “A faint red glow was spreading over the robot’s body. With trembling fingers he readjusted the lens of the television eye, but even as he did so the glow grew in intensity. It looked as if Gnut’s body was being heated to incandescence!” This particular section of the book was Harry Bates best as far as displaying his ability to create tension. He is obviously a sci-fi writer that fell through the cracks because he got very little credit for any of his writings during his lifetime. “He had within himself somehow the means to raise his own body temperature, and was exploiting the limitation of the plastic in which he was locked. For glasstex, Cliff now remembered, was a thermoplastic material, one that set by cooling and conversely would soften again with heat. Gnut was melting his way out!” “The robot became cherry-red...the whole structure began to sag...the robots body moved more wildly.” The plastic melted away. The transition happened quickly. “His body was free! And then, still cherry-red, he moved forward out of sight!” “Several minutes passed. There was a sharp, ringing crack. The metal doors of the wing flew open, and out step the metal giant, glowing no longer. He stood stock-still, and his red eyes pierced from side to side through the darkness.” Then chaos erupted as the waiting army’s tank fired its shell into the giant robot. Cliff’s tree swayed side to side, the area where the robot had previously stood was covered in a cloud of dust and smoke. Did the army destroy Gnut? Cliff had to wait for the haze to clear. He was sure the robot had taken a direct hit.

When the haze cleared, Cliff saw Gnut get up and head for the tank. Before the tank could maneuver it’s barrel, Gnut destroyed the breech with one mighty wallop. The crew scattered to safety. “And then he turned and looked right at Cliff. He moved toward him, and in a moment was under the tree. Cliff climber higher. Gnut put his two arms around the tree and gave a lifting push, and the tree tore out at the roots and fell crashing to its side. Before Cliff could scramble away, the robot had lifted him in his metal hands.” Strangely, the giant robot put Cliff on his shoulder, stabilized him by putting his hand on Cliff’s ankle, and then marched off towards the Tidal Basin where Klaatu’s body was buried. “His neck and shoulders made Cliff a seat hard as steel, but with the difference that their underlying muscles with each movement flexed, just as those of a human being. To Cliff, this metal musculature became a vivid wonder.” Thousands of people followed; above droned copters and planes, and on the ground police cars followed with their annoying sirens blaring. Gnut navigated through water up to his waist before he arrived on the land where the mausoleum that housed Klaatu’s tomb was. “In a moment they were at the top, on the narrow platform in the middle of which rested the simple oblong tomb.” “The giant robot walked once around it, then, bending, he braced himself and gave a mighty push against the top. The marble cracked. The thick cover slipped askew and broke with a loud noise on the far side. Inside...lay a transparent plastic coffin, thick walled and sealed against centuries, and containing all that was mortal to Klaatu, unspoken visitor from the great unknown.” Also inside was a sealed box that contained all the records of Klaatu’s very short visit along with a little roll of film that caught the sight and sound of Klaatu’s short visit. “Gnut paid final respect to his beautiful and adored master. Suddenly then it was over. Gnut reached out and took the little box of records, rose to his feet and started down the steps.” Gnut with Cliff still on his shoulder, and the little box of records in his hand, went back the same way he came and then entered his ship with Cliff on his shoulder.

Once inside, “He set Cliff down and stood looking at him. The young man already regretted his rash action, but the robot, except for his always unfathomable eyes, did not seem angry. He pointed to a stool in one corner of the room. Cliff quickly obeyed this time and sat meekly, for a while not even venturing to look around.” Cliff eventually noticed that he was in a laboratory of some kind. None of the equipment looked even vaguely familiar. “Dominating the center of the room was a long metal table on whose top lay a large box, much like a coffin on the outside, connected by many wires to a complicated apparatus at the far end.” He was also wondering why there was what appeared to be an Earthman’s briefcase on a nearby table...it seemed out of place. “Gnut paid him no attention, but at once, with the narrow edge of a thick tool, sliced the lid off the little box of records. He lifted out the strip of sight-and-sound film and spent fully half an hour adjusting it with the apparatus at the end of the big table...this done, Gnut worked a long time over some accessory apparatus on an adjoining table. Then he paused thoughtfully a moment and pushed inward a long rod. A voice came out of the coffinlike box - the voice of the slain ambassador.” Wow, what’s going on? “I am Klaatu,” it said, “and this is Gnut.” It flashed through Cliff’s mind, those were the only words the ambassador uttered! Then Cliff realized there was a man in the box...he sat up! It was Klaatu! “Klaatu appeared somewhat surprised and spoke quickly in an unknown tongue to Gnut. And Gnut, for the first time in Cliff’s experience, spoke himself in answer. They talked for several minutes.” Klaatu seemed to be tired and was going to lay down, but he changed his mind when he noticed Cliff sitting there. He once again talked to Gnut, this time at length. Then he said to Cliff, “Gnut told me everything.” Cliff had a hundred questions to ask, but for a moment hardly dared open his mouth. “But you,” he began at last - very respectfully, but with an escaping excitement - “You are not the Klaatu that was in the tomb?” “No.”

“I am dying,” he announced simply, as if repeating his words for the Earthman. Again to his face came the faint, tired smile.” Cliff didn’t have a clue what was happening. “I see you don’t understand,” he said. “Although unlike us, Gnut has great powers. When the wing was built and the lectures began, there came to him a striking inspiration. Acting on it at once, in the night, he assembled this apparatus...and now he has made me again, from my voice, as recorded by your people. As you must know, a given body makes a characteristic sound. He constructed an apparatus which reversed the recording process, and from the given sound made the characteristic body.” Now it dawned on Cliff, during those two nights that he spent observing, Gnut was in the ship experimenting. First with the mockingbird, then the gorilla and finally with the two Stillwells. Cliff said to Klaatu, “But you needn’t die!” Klaatu said, “You don’t understand...your recordings had imperfections. Perhaps very slight ones, but they doom the product. All of Gnut’s experiments died in a few minutes, he tells me, and so must I.” Cliff thought about what he has just learned and, “Suddenly, then, Cliff understood the origin of the experiments. He remembered that on the day the wing opened a Smithsonian official had lost a briefcase containing filmstrips of various world fauna. There, on the table, was a briefcase. And the Stillwells must have been made from strips kept in the table drawer.” Cliff didn’t want Klaatu to die and slowly an idea popped into his head. “You say the recording was imperfect, and of course it was. But the cause of that lay in the use of an imperfect recording apparatus. So if Gnut, in his reversal process, had used exactly the same pieces of apparatus that your voice was recorded with, the imperfections could be studied, canceled out, and you’d live, and not die!”

Then something truly unexpected happened, Gnut whipped around like a cat and gripped Cliff tight. An excitement was was shining in the metal muscles of his face and he (yes, that’s right, Gnut) said in perfect English, “Get me that apparatus!” It never dawned on me that he could talk. After all, he never talked in the movie. Anyway, Klaatu said, “There is no hurry, it’s too late for me...stay with me to the end." Shortly thereafter, he died. Then Cliff said, “ Gnut, I’ll get the original apparatus. I’ll get it. Every piece of it, the exact same things.” Gnut let Cliff out of the ship, a huge crowd was around the ship when Cliff stepped down the ramp. He told his story to the authorities in charge, but “He told only part of his story. He was believed. He waited quietly while all the pressure which the highest officials in the land could exert was directed toward obtaining for him the apparatus the robot had demanded.” When the hatch of the spaceship opened, Gnut handed Cliff the body of the second Klaatu and Gnut received the apparatus he needed. Cliff said, "Gnut, you must do one thing for me. Listen carefully. I want you to tell your master - the master yet to come - that what happened to the first Klaatu was an accident, for which all Earth is immeasurably sorry. Will you do that?” “I have known it,” the robot answered gently. “But will you promise to tell your master - just those words - as soon as he is arrived?” “You misunderstand,” said Gnut, still gently, and quietly spoke four more words. What Gnut said made Cliff’s body go numb and teared his eyes. Wow, what were Gnut’s final four words? Are you ready? Gnut said to Cliff, “You misunderstand...I am the Master.

Rick O 2/3/2018

Comment: This column was a experiment that I will not repeat (too hard). It all started when I remembered a magazine type publication I used to read when I was a kid. For the life of me, I can’t remember the publication’s name. Anyway, this publication would do classic novels in an abbreviated form. I wanted to do one, but I needed a short story to abbreviate. Then I found this 63 page classic, Farewell to the Master. Whala! I had my story to shorten, but let me tell you that it was not easy. I had to shorten 63 pages down to 7 including all my commentary without losing the gist of Harry Bates’s novel. Did I succeed?