The Importance of Being Literate: The Pusadian Tales, Part 7

Read/Watch 'em In Order #110

When I wrote about the 1974 short story "The Rug and the Bull"--the 6th of L. Sprague de Camp's 7 Pusadian short stories--I thought I was done, since the very last story had been published in the Fall 1977 issue of Weirdbook, which I was unable to find either online or at an afforable price. So I moved on to another series.

But one of the members of an excellent Facebook group about de Camp was enjoying my reviews sufficiently to send me a copy of that last story. Therefore, I'm jumping back to de Camp's Bronze Age world to cover this last story.

Though "The Stone of the of the Witch Queen" is last story featuring Gezun of Lorsk that de Camp wrote, it's not the last one chronologically. Gezun is still a young man and there's no mention of the wife and kids we met in "The Rug and the Bull." The events of "The Hungry Hercynian" are mentioned, so for those of us who enjoy figuring out fictional chronologies, we can place "Witch Queen" between that one and "Ka the Appalling."

We find Gezun in the city-state of Ausonia, where he's fibbed about his swordsmanship and gotten a job in the private guard of a senator. This has the added benefit of giving him access to the senator's amorous daughter. But that sort of access to the daughter will earn Gezun a rather painful death if her father learns about it. So, when he gets a chance to steal a magical amulet from the young lady and leave the city, he does so without hesitation.

That amulet gives whomever holds it power over the opposite sex. Gezun plans to sell it back to its original owner, Queen Bathyllis of Phaiaxia, for a roomful of gold.

One of the strengths of "The Stone of the Witch Queen" is that, in a way, it subverts expectations. The amulet is the driving force of the plot and a reader might expect its power to be used by Gezun or others during the story to accomplish their goals and perhaps generate some humor. But after Gezun employs it to put the senator's daughter asleep, it isn't used at all. It is simply the story's Macguffin. Other events move the story along instead. Considering how much fun "Witch Queen" turns out to be, de Camp obviously made the wise choice here.

Gezun soon meets an elderly traveling philosopher named Aristax of Pylion, who is such a fun character that it is tragic this is his only appearance. Aristax shows his intelligence by doing a Sherlock Scan on Gezun and accurately deducing a number of things about him, then soon after comes up with a clever plan to help Gezun escape from a band of angry Ausonians who are trying to recover the amulet. The two are soon partners--planning out the best way to safely collect money from Bathyllis. Aristax also points out that Gezun would have a great deal of trouble transporting a roomful of gold and convinces him to ask for a smaller (but still significant) ransom instead.

But even well-laid plans can go awry. As events play out, Gezun, Aristax and another character find themselves trapped in a house that had been used by a magically disguised Bathyllis. That pesky band of angry Ausanians is trying to break in and a drugged gorilla inside the house with them is about to wake up. It is Aristax who comes up with a quite clever stratagem that allows them to escape. Sadly, the amulet is lost in the confusion.

And then Gezun finds out that if he had been able to read a certain letter, he might have avoided all that trouble. The tale ends with him asking Aristax to help him learn to read.

It's yet another fun story--fast-paced, well-written, witty and full of characters with whom we enjoy hanging out. A number of de Camp's works have become avaiable as e-books, including the Pusadian novel The Tritonian Ring. But the Pusadian short stories have yet to be collected and released. In fact, they never have been collected in their entirety even as a traditional book. Hopefully, this will not stand and we'll someday see such a collection pop up on for sale.

Thanks to Brian Kunde for sending me a copy of "The Stone of the Witch Queen." I really do appreciate it.

Keeping Your Cool Even When Turned into an Animal: The Pusadian Tales, Part 6

Read/Watch 'em In Order #108

There was a 16-year gap after "Ka the Appalling" was published in 1958 before L. Sprague de Camp returned to his Pusadian tales, with a new story becoming part of the 1974 anthology Flashing Swords #2, edited by Lin Carter.

Interestingly, about the same amount of time had passed for Gezun of Lorsk between "Ka the Appalling" and "The Rug and the Bull." In the meantime, he has sort-of settled down to being a family man. He ended up marrying Ro, the lady he ran off with at the end of  the previous story, and they now have three kids.

But "settled down" doesn't really describe Gezun's married life, as they are still often on the run from one nemesis or another after another of Gezun's schemes to make money don't quite work out.

As this new story opens, Gezun arrives in the city of Torrutseish, which had been the location of the adventure he had experienced in "The Hungry Hercynian (1953)". Returning is a bit risky, as he had left that city hurriedly after having made an enemy out of a magician named Bokarri. But Gezun figures that after so many years, there's no real risk. He had recently gained possession of a flying carpet and the knowledge of how to make more, so he plans to get in touch with the head of the magician's guild and open up a flying carpet factory.

But the head of the guild is Bokarri, who holds grudges for a very long time. But the flying carpet scheme is potentially lucrative and so avarice trumps vengence. He and Gezun form a partnership.

"The Rug and the Bull" is full of the same sort of clever plotting and dry humor that graces all the Pusadian stories. When Gezun test-rides his carpet for the king (who is a tad overweight), the overloaded carpet barely gets off the ground and lands awkwardly. But the king recognizes the potential value and is willing to give Gezun another tryout in a month.

But during that time, the various transportation guilds (porters, coachmen, boatmen, etc) grow worried about flying carpets hurting their own businesses. And, when offered enough money by these guilds, Bokarri pretty much jumps at a chance to betray Gezun. Consequently, Gezun finds his soul transported into the body of a bull about to take its turn in the bullfighting ring.

But Gezun handles this situation with remarkable aplomb and a bull with human intelligence can accomplish equally remarkable things during a bullfight. That includes turning a profit even though his flying carpet scheme now seems to be a lost cause.

As far as I know, "The Rug and the Bull" has never been reprinted anywhere, so reading it will require getting hold of a copy of Flashing Swords #2. This is worth doing, though, as all four stories in it are excellent fantasy tales.

There is one more Pusadian story out there, but it's only appearance seems to have been in a mazazine titled Weirdbook and I've been unable to locate back issues that fall within my budget, so our visit to de Camp's mythical Bronze Age civilization will probably end here. I have hopes that all the Pusadian tales will one day be anthologized together and re-printed, but who knows when that may happen. At the moment, I haven't decided what to cover next in the In Order series.

The worst thing about time travel is the lack of deodorant.

Science fiction writer L. Sprague de Camp was a smart guy. It shows in his prose. He never came across as pretentious--in fact, his prose is witty and highly readable--but his wide vocabulary and knowledge on myriad subjects keeps his intelligence fully on display for his readers.

Heck, I consider myself a fairly well-read guy with a pretty decent vocabulary, but when I just re-read The Glory That Was (1952), I was using the auto-dictionary function on my Kindle an awful lot.

de Camp even describes an island has having "the shape of the Hebrew letter vav reversed" and apparently assumes that his readers will just nod wisely and think "Okay, I got that."

But, as I said, he never comes across as pretentious. The Glory That Was is an unusual and very entertaining science fiction yarn, full of gentle humor without ever turning into a parody or satire.

It's set in the 27th Century. There's an Emperor of the World, but he's more a figurehead than a political leader. Still, he has enough pull to arrange to have Greece surrounded by an impenetrable force field.

When people of Greek descent begin to vanish, two-fisted journalist Knut Bulnes decides to investigate. With him is portly classical scholar Wiyem Flin, whose wife is among the missing. The two figure out a way to bypass the force field in Bulnes' yacht, but the boat is then rammed and sunk by what appears to be an ancient Greek trireme.

Getting ashore, the two men find themselves in what is apparently Greece in the time of Perikles, just before the Peloponesian War breaks out. But have they gone back in time, or is it all an elaborate hoax?

Much of the story depends on Bulnes and Flin figuring out a way to answer this question. de Camp takes the bizarre premise and moves the story along logically within that framework, building up a nice level of suspense and inserting a couple of well-described action scenes.

But the best part of the novel is the fun de Camp has showing us how the two 27th Century guys deal with being in the pre-industrial past. Flin, for instance, is fascinated by the prospect of being in Periklean Athens, but he soon gets sick of having to walk everywhere--of the lousy food and bad wine--of the lack of being able to get a cup of tea--of the bed bugs and the absence of personal hygiene.

de Camp also has some fun presenting Sokrates and other philosophers as delightfully flawed human beings.

The humor is never mean-spirited--it simply plays off the foibles of human nature. That was one of de Camp's strong points and it's why his books and short stories are always so much fun to read.

On second thought, let's go ahead and change history completely.

In last week’s post, we took a look at the Time Wars novels, in which the protagonists were desperately trying to prevent time travelers from changing history and thus endanger the entire universe.


But what if changing history simply created a separate alternate universe that could peacefully coexist with the original? What if a time traveler were free to alter events in whatever way he could?


That was a handy concept for archeologist Martin Padway, the hero of L. Sprague de Camp’s classic novel Lest Darkness Fall (1939). Because Padway sets out to do nothing less than prevent the Dark Ages.


At first, Padway is just trying to survive. He gets abruptly tossed back in time to Rome in the 6th Century AD. As a scholar, he speaks enough Latin to make himself understood and he manages to trade some of his modern pocket change for more spendable coins. But he’s gotta eat, so he comes up with a clever way to make a living.


He gets a loan from a banker, teaching the banker’s accountants Arabic numerals and double-entry bookkeeping in lieu of collateral. (Why are Arabic numerals such a big improvement? Try doing some long division using Roman numerals and see how long it takes.)


He then builds a distillery, turning out brandy that’s stronger than any of the wines available at the time. Soon, he’s making money hand over foot.


The whole book is like that—Padway isn’t an action hero (though the book has its share of action sequences). He’s an intellectual who thinks out his actions and uses his eclectic knowledge to introduce his new “inventions” into the world. Some of the stuff he does—like building a printing press—are obvious. Others, such as selling stock to fund a company that builds a network of semaphore towers between major cities, are downright brilliant. Heck, he even introduces the concept of the “Help Wanted” sign.


Padway eventually comes to realize that he has a real chance to stave what would be nearly a thousand years of barbarism. Knowing that Italy is about to be devastated by a prolonged war, he reluctantly involves himself in political and military affairs. That’s where most of the novel’s action adventure stuff comes in, as Padway proves to have a talent for political machinations and a good memory for modern military tactics.


de Camp’s strengths as a writer—his sharp wit, his clever plot twists and his ability to create likable supporting characters—are all highlighted throughout the novel. He puts in a lot of little touches that give the story humor and verisimilitude. I love a scene in which Padway has to explain to a grouchy accountant exactly why his “new” number system has a symbol for zero. “Who ever heard of figuring interest on a loan at no interest?” complains the accountant. Padway’s occasional attempts at romance with 6th Century women are largely played for some good laughs.


And de Camp presents Padway as smart and well-educated, but not omniscient. Padway has to experiment quite a lot to come up with workable ink and paper for his printing press. He never does figure out the proper proportions of charcoal, sulphur and saltpeter for making gunpowder (though he does “invent” a workable crossbow).


It all helps make Padway and his adventures seem believable. L. Sprague de Camp turned out a lot of great science fiction and fantasy throughout his long career, but Lest Darkness Fall is arguable his best work.