Clive Barker: Interview, and The Weaveworld Mythology

Alright, after seemingly endless revising it's time to send this one out into the world.
It's about time, because I'm in a state where I'm blithely staring over errors as it's become an inextricable mass of information for me now. It's become too close, and I'm unsure whether I've said enough, though it certainly feels that way. Which means it's very much overwrought in some places and woefully inadequate in others but, well, right now I just need an exit from it.
Doubtless there will be some revision in the future, possible clarifications and so on. But for the most part, the big ideas are done.

It's doubly ironic then that the ideas that started the write-up are nowhere to be found.

Very clear and definite spoilers for Weaveworld.


Interview, The Ritual and Gardens

I've been checking some interviews with Clive Barker, one of which where he gets interrogated, cross-examined asked questions on his work, both film and writings, by a bunch of brainwashed simpletons well-adapted and intelligent studio audience. This was around the time that Weaveworld had just been released, or was just about to, and the Hellraiser movie was still making waves.

As a result, the atmosphere is positively hostile, and it's surprising how calmly responsive Barker stays, slapping down most attacks/arguments easily and eloquently, even though he might have evaded one or two here and there, while patiently reiterating and clarifying his stances, even in the face of what are almost exclusively leading questions. I would've blown up at one point, but then I don't have any business being in front of 2 people, never mind a whole crowd of self-righteous little armholes😊.

There's a reason for both the audience and (to a lesser extent) the host's self-righteous aggressiveness towards Barker of course; mainly that society of thirty years ago certainly wasn't as desensitized like we are to some things. And Hellraiser might've been responsible for some of that, though I honestly don't profess to know, as I'm not a horror movie expert. Hellraiser the movie IS a very good adaptation of the novella though, I know that much.

Anyway. What I took away from that segment was how Barker states he almost exclusively tries to use supernatural themes as a metaphor to broach certain themes and ideas he wants to address.

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And don't you 'duh' me on this one; this is the age of escapism, it is rare to find this level of thought in contemporary fantasy authors. and either way, it's the 'exclusively' that bothered me a bit. There should be room for escapism and entertainment, both for author and reader. But with the grilling he receives in that clip he can be forgiven for reining some of his views in. Reduce the food for the fire, as the fire has got its blinds on, and all that.

Shortly after writing this I was re-reading the introduction to the novel again, and I read the part where Barker specifically addresses this sometime-attitude to his own work. So eh, yeah, this bit wasn't superfluous at all... Maybe I just wanted to show off I've been doing my background for this thing.

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Just as a little aside because that other horror movie is still prowling around in my head. I was looking at the interview because I had some trouble in starting the Weaveworld write-up, as I often do with the ones where I want to talk about a lot. And when I reflected on The Ritual, it becomes clear, a little on the nose even, that is also does this thing where it uses horror and supernatural elements to get to the heart of a matter.

 The beast as metaphor and, also, as literal incentive to combat cowardice and for pushing past that cowardice, so when that same beast demands you to sink low, in terror and obeisance, you stand up and fight. Barker would like the film I'm thinking.

And so would you.

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And with Weaveworld Barker explicitly stated that he wanted to explore the idea of an ideal paradise at the heart of most creation myths, a garden of peace and plenty, and as Christianity informs many of his fictions: that garden is Eden.

Now, in the novel, you obviously have your Weaveworld itself; The Fugue, the collection of magical places and the individuals who populate them. There's magic around every corner, underneath every blade of grass and when the reader is first introduced to it, the overwhelming impression is one of ribald peace and plenty (yes, that is exactly what I mean), harmony and wonder. The Weaveworld itself is an overtly, explosively, magical shade of Eden.

But there's also another part in the book where we are treated to another garden entirely.
And maybe it is even the original garden itself, but there's deliberately no way to know for certain. And those parts of the book are genuinely spellbinding. I didn't set out to find a story with Biblical themes this time, it just happened. But when I realized what was being put on display I really was quite taken with it.
It's here where Barker introduces the book's hidden mythology, supplying enough elements that you can fabricate a number of possible scenarios to have given rise to this 'Paradise garden' myth.

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There's an element to this scenario that I absolutely loved; something that seems to sit engraven as one of the basic 'given truths' in this world: Uriel's situation, his alone-ness. Among the things it infers and the most interesting to me is that it implies an absence of supervision. Coupled with Immacolata's comments, likely inspired by hidden 'true knowledge', which is supplied by the Menstruum or from knowledge gained behind the veil or as an oral legend from the Kind, points to a Creator absent and forgetful, wilful or not, or if not forgetful; one who is not omniscient. Absence can imply many things, but the consequence of it for those not in the know is that it can only be felt as abandonment.

So then; the issue of divine abandonment rears its head again. It's a theme more explicitly touched in Barker and Miller's Next Testament.

Loved seeing it here, even if it wasn't the heart of the matter.

The Mythology

On the Arab Peninsula, there's a place so inhospitable and empty, it has remained to this day unmapped. This place is called the Empty Quarter. And in its very heart, closed in by a seamless wall of smooth rock, lies the Garden.

Under the sun, it is an empty waste. And nothing is visible other than vague avenues and patterns in the sand and dust, with meaning seemingly present but indecipherable. But during the night the garden gains another dimension. One of seeming life, made manifest through dust. But of course; the dust, the sand, being reared into a simulacrum of teeming, blooming life, is a simulacrum only. It is white and sterile, reduced to crumbling dust at the lightest touch. The structure and patterns are proved meaningless, they are merely an echo of what once was.

The garden is inhabited by a being of geometries, eyes and wheels of fire. It calls itself Uriel. It is the one that raises the garden of dust every night, in memory of what once was and maybe, also as a signal, to broadcast to whatever or whoever might be listening, that it is still doing its job.

At the time of the story it is a being that, a hundred years earlier had looked into the minds of men who'd read the Bible, either correctly understood who he was by the given context, or who misappropriated the Garden's mythology for himself.
Barker leaves it up for interpretation which is the correct one here.

I choose to take this at face value, as an extension of the Biblical myth.
Barker, in Uriel's initial meeting with Shadwell and in Suzanna's conversation with Immacolata in the Shrine of the Mortalities, of course offers up something else, something wilder; hints of the absolute base truth informing, giving rise to Biblical mythology.
But, again, as this is all the information we have, and there's nothing but fruitless speculation down that particular road, I choose to approach it my preferred way.

Uriel, only arriving at the garden after Adam and Eve's banishment from earthly Paradise, as the angel with swords of fire, is left behind to bar entry to any who would enter its idyllic premises.
But over the course of some time, new life begins to grow there. It is unplanned, wild and rampant, varied and completely against normalcy as it was established up to that point, in a word: inhuman.
As this is an unknown, uncalculated for 'miracle', or that at the very least Uriel was given no orders for, he can do naught but watch them grow. And as it his duty is to prevent entry, he does not mind letting the Curious Seerkind leave to find the world outside.

But then, after their leaving, the ages pass and the once-clear angel slowly starts to succumb to the madness of loneliness, and forgets all of what it was, until a group of travelers break its isolation.
From their minds it pieces together the Biblical mythology and, reading of the angel of fire placed at Eden's gates, is reminded, but not shown (very important), of what it once was.

It abandons guardian duty for that of executioner, and strides into the world to hunt the Kind that once had left the garden.
Years pass as the Kind are hunted and killed in violent conflagration where ever they are found. In the end the survivors secrete themselves in the Fugue, the carpet that hides them from the eyes of their "Scourge", to wait for the day that they'd be safe again.

I hate the world, I was there once before.

Finding no more Kind to extinguish, and, as a being of utter purity, repelled by the grubby world outside of the garden, the being that calls itself Uriel returns to it and again takes up its guardian duty to the now-dead, absent the angel's power, Paradise.

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It is an assumption that the angel's leaving causes the garden to wilt.

It's not gone into in the novel, I think.

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It continues watching over a garden of dust every night, forgetting everything but the thing in front of it. Nightly building empty meaning out of a jungle of dust, an imitation-echo of once-teeming vibrancy, and as an empty gesture, a sign to the heavens: Hineni. Here I am, God. But enacted, expressed, to a God, unwilling or unable to witness, One who maybe, through the endless ages, has become just as forgetful of Himself as this one wayward angel.

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There is comfort in oblivion.

Though able to go anywhere, Uriel, this being of immense God-like power remains in the garden, clinging to derelict duty, because, having forgotten itself, and basing itself on the inaccurate depiction as glimpsed in the minds of those who had read the Bible, this depiction of itself, with all the duties that that entails, are all that it knows.

Furthermore: It verbatim states that it does not like the outside world. It remains in the dead garden, conjuring the vanished Paradise from dust, because unlike the outside world; dust is safe, dust is peace, as in; dust proclaiming, being the symbol of oblivion. To bring back the plants, colour and life as they were, must have been within this creature's possibilities, but it keeps instead the white and sterile garden of dust, crumbling into nothingness at the slightest disturbance. Because emptiness can not be tainted, it is pure unless something is added. Safe and void, ever always predictable.

Later on in the story Uriel also continues on with this, when it voices the desire to scorch the entire world into dust and ash, void it of life.

The Persecution of Imagination

There is something obvious I have not yet addressed. It is the question of why Uriel leaves the garden. Why he goes after the Kind, to burn them wherever they are found.
It's not because of Shadwell's suggestion of going after them, he was merely the reminder, because Shadwell was not the cause for Uriel's first leaving of the garden.

So why? What makes this being leave his duty? What enforces this malign, destructive course of action, prompting him to go out and renew its hunt? And more than that, when taken to its extremity, the path that begs the end to life itself?

It is the Bible, of course.

As Immacolata states: "That's what it believes, having read the Bible."

Or rather; The origin of it comes from the stance offered, demanded by the Bible.
Implicit message of strict adherence. Do one, not the other.

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On top of, of course, the Bible's 'Kill the sorcerer wherever he is found', which would be an easy but boring explanation and thankfully it isn't mentioned in the novel.

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The Seerkind in their wild multiplicity of life, with all their magic, all their differences, their colours, their everything that isn't fixed, represent everything imagination can possibly summon. They are representative of Barker himself too, the irrepressible creative.

Destroying the Seerkind is to destroy life itself in all its unending imagination and creativity. Because Creativity is life, and life is creativity. It is thought, it is hope. It is the constant momentum forward.
Creativity is anathema to lines of constraint. Guidelines are abandoned again and again in the face of passion and experimentation.

The Bible goes opposite to that.
It demands us to adhere to a strict sets of rules, in order to be without sin, to be pure. Failing that: Believe, submit, follow and be saved, or burn; there is no alternative. And in the mind of Uriel, it is this path, when followed to its extreme conclusion leads to only one place, and this is where we find it by the last stretch of the novel. These beings are impure and can not be redeemed. And the world itself is too far gone.

I hate the world, I was there once before.

By Uriel's reasoning, purity can only be regained, be made certain by the absence of life; an absolute sterility. Judge Death, but Biblical.

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Barker himself claims that this is not about the message, forgiveness, submission or commands themselves, that this is about the voices on earth, all those demagogues and figures of power who demand all their followers to bow down to them, who claim to speak for Heaven and the sinless purity it demands, who take that divine message, regurgitate it, mold it in a shape to suit it to their own profane ends.

That in truth, this is about those who interpret and who claim 'this path to follow': The organized religions.

But it can not be denied that all what these people do is follow the rules as as they are laid out in the Bible. For their own ends to be sure, edited maybe and altered, but from the same restricted heart, inimical to unruly, errant humanity.

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But.


Resolution, and Flawed Man

All of this reasoning is gleaned from the minds of man, and their assumption that the Bible gives the be all, end all knowledge and answer to these things.
Uriel takes this entire reasoning and subsequently solely acts from that premise, but can not KNOW that it's true. So: there is still doubt.
So when at the end, when Uriel is offered its heart's desire, which is to see itself, to finally again know itself as it truly is, it gazes into the jacket and draws forth from it the thing it wants most; itself. As mirror and more than mirror.
And in that moment it understands, is reminded, and knows what to do. And immediately it shoots away from Earth, leaving behind misguided humanity and all its flawed texts. Not a word given, not a backward look. The end.

There is no clarity for us, no final reveal. Only the baffled gaze of the outsider. The being Uriel knows, finally knows, when it is reintroduced to its own knowledge, its own truth, and then it leaves, immediately upon remembering only it knows what. The only deducible truth from this, is that neither humanity, or the Seerkind, in Uriel's ultimate comprehension, matter to it.

Anything we've held true is void because of this. We don't matter in the truth of this creature.
Our relevance to this thing of divine origin, is nonexistent.

Half of this is projection, tainted by an unwillingness to acquiesce to what Barker hints at, and me sticking to the Biblical lens. But also, because, if we base ourselves solely on what Barker presents, there clearly can be no clean answer, because what little he's hinting at has an inconceivable amount of possibilities behind it. Think of whenever the angel speaks, that it offers only seemingly coherent sentences, but it is unclear if they indeed always belong together. There is a possibility of disjointedness here as its mind, stimulated for the first time in a hundred years, jumps around from one thing to the next without pause, abandoning one idea ceaselessly for the next. There is body language, but that is interpretation, as are the visions we are shown; passing windows offering up words and scenes without context; blooming gardens, higher spirits, dripping matter of pure creation, and worlds of fire, cloud and rock.

In the end, Barker delivers on what he set out to do; he makes it clear that something bigger than mankind has touched it. And that Man, in response, created legends and myth in an effort to understand it. And that then, that thing, in all its unknowability, left. From ourselves there can be no answers to this, as everything is tainted by our own myth-making, our bias and ever-present self-importance. We're inside and, as such, can not see the whole picture. And there is no-one else to offer up a solution.
Meaning, but no answers.

Weaveworld, Clive Barker

While chasing his escaped prize-winning pigeon through the streets of Liverpool, Cal Mooney stumbles on the miraculous. In a moment of terror and exaltation he catches a glimpse of a world of wonder before it submerges again in an old, fraying carpet. It's a sight that takes him back to the innocence of his youth, to the time when magic was still possible.
It is a vision that, in the days after, leaves him shaken, disturbed, and profoundly changed. Unable to get the carpet out of his head he goes back to the look for it.
But he soon finds that others are also looking for the carpet and for all the secrets that it hides, and that in a world where there is room for wonders, there is also ample place for horror.

Suzanna has done her best to put the past behind her. All the troubles of childhood, all the innocence lost. All thoughts of the supernatural and the strange shoved aside in the path of her pragmatism.
But, when at her grandmother's hospital bed, she is shown a vision in her mind's eye,she finds the old truth returning; that the world is less clear cut than she wanted to believe.
Following up on the glimpse of magic she returns to her grandmother's house and there meets up with Cal, and together they take a stand against the forces of darkness that wish to use the carpet's mysteries for their own, nefarious ends.

Weaveworld is my first novel-length brush with Clive Barker's writings and it's a bit of an odd one.
On the one hand it's very good, incredibly imaginative and horrifying, which is what you would expect from a Barker story.
On the other, it is a story that could've done with some stretching out, some more buildup and a higher page count. Another writer would've made this into a trilogy. And with that it might have been better, or it might've not. Either way, during the read, I never felt completely engaged and wasn't completely along for the ride, at least not until the very end, when certain elements that I was very interested in came into play.

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"But that was all; only miracles."

And that quote right there from page 442 illustrates perfectly what's wrong, or conversely if this suits the reader more; perfect, about this novel. Its imagination is boundless, running wild and rampant every other page, with Barker being completely unrestrained in what he conjures up and though it's undeniable impressive, I confess I felt I was occasionally quite unable to meet with his imagination, at times unable to depict in my mind whatever he was presenting.
There's so much originality packed into the novel, woven from disparate strands of mythology, religious backgrounds and fairy tales that I just felt constantly bewildered, but also pleased with, whenever a next element was introduced. This is a story written by a uniquely creative soul and it can be overwhelming.

The story takes place over 3 'books', made up out of 13 parts. It's densely plotted and very fast paced.
Characters come and go, and apart from our leads and our primary antagonists, they can feel a bit touch and go, suited for the moment, but always delivered with either heart or horror. Cal is the most interesting of the main, frequently looking as if he should be out of his depth, though he never actually is. Instead, in the hard times, he is buoyed up by the genetic legacy of his grandfather, "Mad" Mooney, which manifests as an imagined voice giving advice where necessary, and furthermore, carrying through some of that weirdness into an environment that it's well suited for.
But characters aren't static and they go through an entire gamut of character progression over the course of its story, it's one of those things why I feel as if the book could've used some more space.
Suzanna is fairly straightforward, which means by Barker's terms that she is the tough-ass you'd want to be. She's well-adapted, beautiful and above all; powerful, both in terms of character and in the Weaveworld mythology itself.
For the bad team, and they are undeniably bad, you have Shadwell the Salesman, wearer of a magic jacket gifting the viewer their hearts' deepest desires in exchange for obedience, who also goes through some revolutions over the course of the story, and Immacolata, who can be best described by the appellation of Black Madonna; purity but through a very dark lens. Barker usually writes characters who are either sexually healthy or who go through some sort of sexual progression during the story's plot, but he neatly subverts that by making her pure character one part of three; one who was supposed to be three, Immacolata strangled (metaphor?) her sisters in the womb, and their ectoplasmic ghosts haunt the world alongside her; The Magdalene; sexual purity turned on its head, and the Hag, with eyes sewn shut granted the gift of foresight: Neat contradictions imbuing power to the characters.
For the last we have Inspector Hobart, who serves as the down-to-earth antagonist element where the others are strengthened by magic. Monomaniacal and dangerous, when he comes into contact with the Fugue's magical properties, he deems it illusion and labels all who consort with it Terrorists.

There are obviously a lot of other characters here, and a few notables that I won't touch on, as to do so would give crucial elements of the story away. And it's an epic story, well worth your time, a long winded tale of travels, magic and wonder leading into a very cool ending.
That ending is beautiful and well delivered, and although I was initially confused with the preceding climax, while reading certain parts again I was surprised to find that the end was perfectly set-up in other chapters. What at first seemed beautiful but odd, had in fact a precursor planted before it, hinting, guiding, leading into the resolution.

At the story's end, looking back at what's been on display,  you can only venture to call it as Barker does; a work of the Fantastique. An undeniable Fantasy classic.

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The thing about Barker is his imagination. It seems to have no limits. When I was checking up on some of the Abarat videos on youtube it dawned on me that there can never be enough time for this man to depict and create what he wants. There is always something else, something wild and strange and new. His creative processes are incredible. And it's so pleasing to see somebody do what they genuinely love. Fascinating dude, great fiction.

Netflix: Horseman, obviously.

Yeah...

Netflix is evil...

I'm not going to renew it when the month's up. If I do I'll get no reading or blogging done at all (but on the other hand; there's this massive post that got done in maybe an hour so... hmmm...).
It is the great enabler; with how swiftly it all starts up, ready to pick up where you left off in under a minute, and all those handy skip-credits or skip-intro buttons, although I didn't end up much using that for the intros, come to think of it.
And you might dis their Netflix-original movies, but that quality is only set to rise (see The Ritual, I added some non-revealing pictures in that post). And for 9,99 a month, that's the equivalent of going to the movies at least once a month, and that's on top of all the rest of the stuff they already got.

Yes, I don't go to the movies. I might've mentioned that already, but I have anxiety issues. Going out is very shit for me.
So, newly released movies in high quality, with my surround sound, in optimal circumstances, tailored specifically for me, for only around 10 euros a month, is pretty much ideal, but as I've said already, It would seriously mess with my productivity, especially if I start watching series.

Case in point...

Such a very good intro song... after a while...

I spent (very) roughly 20 hours watching a show I didn't plan on viewing.

What did I watch? Since signing up, I watched only one of the three things I said I would, and you know about that one already.
So this is another thing, a new thing. And what is it?

It's Bojack... Horseman, obviously.

Just finished watching the whole 4 available seasons of it. I had heard about it, knew about its dark humour and exploration of self-destructive characters and though I figured those themes would appeal to me, I never got around to it, because outside of it being only on Netflix (I think), I also didn't go for it because... well... because it's a cartoon about a dude called Horseman... and it's a cartoon... meh, call me biased in the animation department, but these days I don't watch much of anything anymore anyway.
But I started watching it Friday evening in a more than slightly inebriated mood, after my friend selected it, I presume because the silly premise of a sarcastic anthropomorphic horse would appeal to him, à la 'let's see how long this wacky joke lasts...'

Turns out it lasted a while, and now I've watched the 5 remaining episodes this evening.

It's a great, smart and fast-paced show, packed with small details and background jokes and a surprising level of intimacy, especially in seasons 3 and 4. Which might be because you build up an affinity for these characters, but also because 3 and 4 are genuinely good television in their own right. I'm thinking now, of the Underwater episode, which is 25 minutes practically devoid of dialogue, which I've never seen done before, and it's pretty amazing how well that it works.

Or of the hard-hitting darkness of the episode that delves into the past of Beatrice, Bojack's mom, which had me staring rather horrified at what was being told, but which was unbelievably, tear-inducingly brilliant, in both how well it's delivered and in what it means for the show's plot of the season.
Other things I enjoyed were the deliriously trippy drug-trip episodes, where Bojack either gets under the influence of either drugs or alcohol, where what's on screen is surreally funny or surreally horrific depending on how bad Bojack's mental state of the moment is. Double points for that one with Sarah Lynn, which is another one of those emotional hard-hitters.
The recurring character of Margot Martindale, who was the prime reason the second season of Justified is still the best season of Justified, was also one of those bizarrely cool things the show does.

Also, actually voiced by Character Actress Margot Martindale,
And you better believe I ain't ever forgetting that name now.

The show delves into actor and Hollywood culture, which I generally despise, but when the characters are this good it's hard to hold grudges. It gets frequently intensely dark, and those moments are in the first few seasons pretty horrifying. Maybe I got desensitized to it, or swept up in the momentum of the episode-after-episode flow, but I rather think Bojack's antics got less (morally) dark in the later seasons, even though it gets plenty dark still on other levels.
But even though season 4 ended on a remarkably positive note, and in fact it's been rather a positive one overall, I'm still very much of the opinion the series as a whole will run for nine seasons and that Bojack will die in the last episode, in imitation of the show's in-universe show that gave Bojack his erstwhile fame.
Although... this season has given me the idea that there might be a good chance of things changing for the better for him... but, something-something doesn't get to change his stripes, and I would love if they dedicated themselves to the artistic resolution for this one anyway. Both would be good and whichever will be the final resolution, it's still a while off yet and I'm sure they'll nail it anyway, whatever it'll be.

Tears, man.

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And while taking screencaps to accompany the write-up I found that there's actually another episode, apart from the main series; a 25 minute Christmas special. Cool, I'll go watch that now then. If nobody has anything against that... No?... okay. Bye.

Edit: The Christmas special wasn't that good. We actually get to watch almost an entire episode of Horsin' Around and it's as awful as those old corny shows that it pastiches. But oddly enough, right at the moment when Todd claims that Bojack is 'getting into it, right?'  I felt myself there too.
We've all been lonely at Christmas at one point or another right?

Gotrek and Felix in the post!

Another day, another one off of the 'to-be collected' list.

It's a bit of a rare one.

And to illustrate that; here, for posterity, and because this is still ridiculous, is what I wrote on the Slow book collecting page to the right.

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-Gotrek and Felix Omnibus 4

Outrageously expensive, but it's on the list until gamesworkshop gets its shit together and reissues the series in a new and glorious jacket, it should be only a matter of time, but, really, who can wait for that? 

This is just ridiculous, I mean look at this shit:

 Oh and this seller isn't suspect at all, oh no...

What, was this stolen or something?

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I was one of the people who did not appreciate the change in artstyle from the unabashedly and creatively fantastic covers into the facsimili, bland realism of the second version of covers.

 I held off a while, bought the first omnibus as a statement to myself that I'd get around to purchasing the others and looked at some other stuff instead. I was a solely exclusive Warhammer omnibus reader, what can I say? Complete stories over piecemeal anytime. I abandoned that initial approach when the Time of Legends novels arrived and started buying those and others that caught my eye, primarily because of the legendary Jon Sullivan or Raymond Swanland art. This approach also got abandoned and I quit collecting and reading entirely when Games Workshop proved they couldn't be trusted when they switched formats halfway through every published trilogy at the time. I'd wait for the omnibi again.

So when I went back to this one, a VERY short while later... the fourth omnibus was completely out of print... Typical Games Workshop. I've talked about this before, so I'm not going to put this old grudge up on display again.

I've been on the lookout for this one since, and I got lucky. It wasn't as expensively purchased as the above. But it wasn't nothing either. Shipping prices were a bit much, but as I had to show my identity and sign for the package at the door I did feel mollified a little. Better to pay extra to make sure everything is handled safely and securely than cry about creases or vent about lost mail.

The Ritual

Just saw the Ritual. Spoilers ahead.

With Altered Carbon, Annihilation and The Ritual all coming out this month I looked into getting Netflix, and surprise surprise; I found I could get a free month. So, on the spur of the moment and literally 10 minutes later I was watching the movie on my playstation (for the surround sound).

And it was awesome.

In the literal sense of that word. I might have mentioned before that I loathe hyperbole, so when I say something's awesome I very much mean it that way.

We follow four friends on their hike gone wrong as, to get to their lodgings quicker, they take a shortcut through one of Sweden's ancient forests. And then, already committed to their path, they find something streaming with blood, disemboweled, spitted on the branches of a tree.

Going in, it rapidly became clear that the music was going to be bloody phenomenal. And so it was. Music is something that has a direct line to my sense of immersion and whatever movie or series that doesn't pay attention to it will always be found lacking. But this one's sound design, score and tension building was just perfect.

Right from the moment the set-up has been revealed we switch scenes and to the insinuating sound of cellos and drums we are treated to a sprawling vista of some of the best of Sweden's cherry-picked desolation, and then the music just keeps going, all tension and atmosphere. Something looms ahead, and it's going to be nasty and dark.

It's a very good movie and a memorable horror film, even though it left me wanting more. It's so good there just couldn't be enough of it. But it also feels as if only Luke's background has been given enough time and build-up. There's clear there's something going on in Dom's family life, there are certainly enough references, and the book takes out time for it. Similarly Hutch and Phil get slight references to their family life but nothing much else. I'm hoping that parts were cut from the movie to retain tension and flow and that they'll be collected in an eventual director's cut somewhere down the line.

The movie still is very much better than the book. Though to be honest, there were a few sure-fire ways that could have happened.

And indeed: Some of the more bizarre, or outright distasteful moments of the novel have been taken out or altered completely, to the infinite betterment of the movie. The entire second half has been stripped of every annoyance that the book offered, and it's pretty much everything that I was hoping the movie would do.
Something else that's been altered, and I'm not sure if it's better or worse, or just a different way to approach the story, but the focus is more on our main(est) character Luke and his nightmares and residual trauma from the movie's instigating event. Luke becomes more relatable, and more haunted and the nightmare sequences (the incredibly good highlights of the book) play out differently but are handled with a surprising level of imagination. The downside to this is that we don't actually get to see anyone else's nightmares, like for instance, Hutch's nightmare in the cabin, which was one of the few things I've ever read in a book that made me pull the covers over my head when I went to bed that night. Whenever I think of the phrase 'Snorting with excitement' or of hooves banging with nervous anticipation on the inside of a coffin I still feel some of that original horror. For me, at the time, in that moment, those scenes had a very intimate and repelling effect, and it made me love the book. It's why this write up is unabashedly subjective. I'd been waiting a long time for this one.

The mythology is excellent.
I can't remember if it was like this in the book, but I'm pretty sure that whatever there was has been upgraded. From oddities and hidden folklore to something more recognizable to the mainstream masses, though it must be said, it's subtle. If you have no frame of reference you're going to be clueless, though in this day and age, with the attention some franchises get and I don't actually want to say it for fear of spoilers, but either way; you're likely to figure it out once names get dropped.

And then... Because I really need to talk about this...
This is a movie where something stalks four friends in an ancient wood. Not really a spoiler that one.
And with these types of films, the creature-features, the whole movie stands or falls on the delivery of its monster, human or otherwise, the final showcase where you'll get to see it, warts and all, and its the warts; the bad cgi or the shoddy practical effects that would be most detracting.

But this one delivers, gives you the money-shot and then proceeds to bask in it. It's very good and all the glimpses, tantalizing, edging you on, make you clamor for a full reveal. And then when at last it stands revealed, it looks very damn cool. And so you cheer:  "Hey, hey, it's a good one!" High-fives all around.

And then... and then the movie goes and one-ups itself. It's perfect and I can't describe it, because I don't want to; because this is where that awe comes in. It's all relative, how you process things, reactions differ, but for me it was literally jaw-dropping.
Common opinion is that it's a very good movie, though likely not that memorable. But for me it is. I had been anticipating this one for a long time and it blew my good expectations out of the water. It stuck close to the novel's excellent first half and dumped the excess shite from the second.
Then it took the visual image I had of the stalker, used that as a starting point and then went to town with unbridled creativity.

Bloody well loved it. hugely enjoyable. Long live the wild wood.

-----

I was supposed to be starting the write-up for Weaveworld but I'm still feeling a bit overwhelmed with the movie. Also the two days of hard labour haven't helped.
Some hours got switched around this week, which means I'll be home tomorrow and do some of my writing then. I'm just going to have to exercise some willpower and refrain from watching something else now that there's so much just a click of a button away.

Realmslayer.

Gotrek Gurnisson was the greatest monster slayer of the age, who met his doom at the End Times. The heroic Duardin stepped forth into the Realm of Chaos to fight the daemons gnawing at the world's ending and satisfy his death oath, leaving behind his companion Felix Jaeger. Now Gotrek has returned, having outlived the old gods and the Old World. Spat from the ruinous depths with his redemption unfulfilled, he emerges into the Mortal Realms, a strange new world where gods walk the earth and dark forces are ascendant. Nothing is as he remembers. His oaths are dust, and the lands are torn asunder by Chaos. Yet when Gotrek learns of human champions being elevated to immortality for Sigmar’s fight against this darkness, the so-called 'Stormcast Eternals', he knows why fate has brought him into this new age. To find Felix. For only then can he find the peace in death he seeks. But is there more to Gotrek's apotheosis than even he can fathom? Has he truly been chosen by Grimnir and for what purpose?

-----

Jesus fucking Christ. Oh hell yes!

I can see it now:

Past the end of the world the battle lasted, into eternity, until a new age, and with a new age, a new beginning and a new battle.

The din had ended.

It had come to pass, as impossible as that was. He slowly sat up and looked up at the cataclysm dwindling out into nothingness before them. The violent display of blinding lightning and Godfire had almost gone. With a grunt he levered himself up off the ground and slowly, painfully, hobbled over to the silent figure, sitting morosely at the edge of a newborn abyss.

The Duardin didn't pay him any attention, apart from a swift, inscrutable glance, only conveying acknowledgment, nothing else. The Eternal looked at him and was silent.

The Duardin gave him another glance and then looked back to the dazzling panorama in front of him. The death of a realm unfolded before them, not a sight to be seen every day.
And still the Stormcast Eternal did not look away from the stoic face.

 He didn't say anything. After all, it had been an age, what could mere words possibly convey?

He was silent, and then, in an awed voice; "A slayer still, even after all this time."

The Duardin, in an aeon past named Gotrek, son of Gurni, froze and looked silently at the Stormcast Eternal, hunching deathly still beside him.

He frowned, hesitated and then ventured,

"Manling?"

The blond Stormcast Eternal with the short-cropped hair was silent as in the distance lightning crackled. Then, slowly, he smiled.

I might be foregoing any and all reservations about the Age of Sigmar for this one. The greatest bromance of the Old World is returning, baby! Fuck. I'd even accept the ridiculous naming conventions if they do this right.

On the other hand though... They're really going to re-introduce Gotrek by the use of an Audio drama?

I'm not harping on Audio in any way, but doesn't that get into the flow of anyone's immersion, or is that just me?

To have the voices in your head, essentially your voices, every nuance perfectly yours, as perfect as you can make them, delivered unto you by proxy? With accents, pauses and speech patterns present that aren't yours...  mind language is a whole lot different than spoken language, you know.

I'm really not harping on audio dramas but, even as someone who listened to Slayer of the Storm God and, knowing that you can in fact provide, I'd be a lot more happier with a prose version.

This needs to be epic, and imagination would provide filler for all the possible blanks in a novel version, while auditory input from another party will definitely fill in a lot of those same blanks, and maybe not in a way that is all that conducive to what people want. For instance: Is a rural Brittish or Scottish accent really what's needed for Dwarves, excuse me; Duardin, in the Age of Sigmar?

-----

One of the biggest arguments I've heard, from those proponents of the Age of Sigmar, is that moving away from the old setting would give the option to do away with all the old tired stereotypes.
Now, Dwarfs have still been present in this new age, in their new incarnation; the Duardin, and as far as I'm aware they have not had any audio dramas yet.
This one one then; Realmslayer, will give us dwarf-accents in the age of Sigmar. The trouble with this then, is what will be the inevitable relapse into the scottish accent. They could've moved away from this, clean slate. But, because Gotrek is Gotrek and needs the accent, or else he wouldn't feel the same, be the same, it would necessitate a race-wide relapse, a slide backward into the speech patterns and vernacular of the Duardin as a whole. What was left up to interpretation in the magic of the written prose, voice actors will make absolute.
This is the kind of stuff I don't like, this is why I will always read the novel rather than listen to the audio book or dramatization. It's why I generally want to read the novels before they're adapted to the big screen, or the small one. Because auditory and visual input corrupts your story experience.
Someone else's speech/accent/patterns will inform what you see, whereas with the prose version, it's your inner voice that does all the work, fitting it sympatico to what suits you best.

Now this is completely subjective, and I know this is at least true for me. We're all different. What doesn't suit me will undoubtedly work for others. But, I at least will be passing on the audio drama box set.

Warhammer Chronicles: The Third Batch

There's a little extra news on the Warhammer Chronicles omnibi front, with every month of the year having an omnibus all to its self. Except, oddly enough, next month's march slot is open still and the august one as well. (surprise releases maybe?)

After the already announced ones in the previous Warhammer Chronicles post here's some new releases:

In september we have the badass-looking Masters of Stone and Steel:

This one will be collecting 4 novels by Gav Thorpe and Nick Kyme.

The Doom of Dragonback, which is a Time of Legends stand-alone which I haven't read yet, and the novels; Grudgebearer, Oathbreaker and Honourkeeper, which... I also haven't read yet. And which, also all seem to be stand-alones.

Honourkeeper takes place before the War of Vengeance, Dragonback during or after, I'm not sure.

The other two I don't know squat (sorry) about.

The omnibus will also include the short stories Ancestral Honour and City of Dead Jewels.

Grudgelore, the foreshortened background novella on the dwarves doesn't seem to have been included even though it had been in the earlier Dwarves omnibus.

And then, not seen a mention of this yet anywhere else and this one's cover is very definitely changing (as this is the second edition of the first omnibus' cover) Released on October 16th in the Warhammer Chronicles Range: Gotrek and Felix Omnibus 1.

Very Pleased to see this one.

And I advise any and all readers to purchase this one as it comes out.

Judging by past experiences with the Gotrek and Felix omnibi, they always sell out rather fast.

Included in the book are, as is usual, the very first novels of the saga; Trollslayer, Skavenslayer, and the ridiculously epic Daemonslayer. Also collected will be a bunch of short stories.

Seeing as this information matches any of the previously released omnibi I imagine this list could still be shaken up a bit, or not at all.

I'm still hoping for an all-out, lavish, definitive, chronological collection of the Gotrek and Felix series. Collecting all novels from Trollslayer to the End Times stuff, everyhing in its proper chronological place.

The price doesn't matter, Games Workshop, I'll buy that shit on the spot!

Just make sure you don't stifle the demand again: People want Gotrek and Felix.

And right in Horror-haunted November we have the release of another very cool-looking omnibus:

C.L. Werner's The Black Plague trilogy.

The omnibus collects the novels: Dead Winter, Blighted Empire and Wolf of Sigmar.

I had read the first one of these right after I had read a Game of Thrones, and believe it or not, I very much enjoyed it, even when I compared them at the time. There was some very good characterization in Werner's novel. I didn't follow up on its sequels, unfortunately, as the Black Library was going through one of its irritating format changes again, which made me hunker down and wait for the inevitable omnibus instead of following up novel by novel.

And, at the last, right around Christmas, we have the release of an omnibus for William King's Tyrion and Teclis trilogy.

Collects the novels Blood of Aenarion, Sword of Caledor, and Bane of Malekith.

I do hope that that cover indeed isn't final.

But then, elves as a whole aren't my thing, even though Blood of Aenarion was gripping enough.

William King always has a good story to tell. The story was unconventional in its set-up and resolution, and I remember King had to suit his plot to some rulebooks, which explains the oddities.

To revisit my hope for an alteration of that cover; I'd love it if the artwork got a little more ambitious than 'Blurry elf, constipated, buried in his armour, grits his teeth'. Just compare the above with the original Raymond Swanland covers for the individual novels:

You might know Swanland's work from his Artwork for Glen Cook's Black Company or Dread Empire, or at least, that's where I know him from.

-----

For the rest in Black Library fantasy news, there's an anthology in December for the Blood Bowl setting, and of which I have never read a thing, even though I have the deliriously fancy Blood Bowl box set.

I'm not sure as to what this novel's actually collecting.

The information I'm getting is that this one's 960 pages, which points to the inclusion of novel length works, but I expect that this one does not, in fact collect Matt Forbeck's 4 novels and rather collects the short stories (e-shorts) that were published for the re-release of the Blood Bowl game, which would be about 12 short stories.

On the other hand, the e-shorts really aren't that long (what's in a name, after all?) and the four novels + 12 e-shorts don't seem that implausible to fit into a 960 page massive omnibus.

Especially not if you look at the last omnibus on the list, which will collect the entire second part of the Realmgate War Saga.

This one will collect Warbeast, Call of Archaon, Fury of Gork, Bladestorm, Mortarch of Night and Lord of Undeath.

They're not that lengthy tales, and I'm still not convinced that they're any good, if one listens to common opinion.

And, please, change that cover.

You have such awesome artwork for the Age of Sigmar. Use that, instead of always trying to hawk the models, please.

----

I also caught sight of Michael's post at Track of Words and his rundown of the Black Library at Horus Heresy Weekender and I must say; That Hardback Journal looks mightily interesting.

The post is mostly about the 40k, the Horus Heresy and Necromunda settings, but interesting nonetheless.
The most interesting bit to me is that the Horus Heresy series will likely run to over 60 books at this point, which, at 25 euros or higher per Hardback novel, means that the series as a whole has just about outstayed its welcome.

Early February Update

Hi. It's been a whole week, I know. I'm honestly not sure where the time went, as I have certainly not been doing anything productive. In fact looking back, it doesn't look like I've done much of anything.

Weaveworld's spine was already cracked when I bought in the Grim Bookshop.
Which I did a post on Here. Pretty good shop.

Also, reading and shelf copy of Time and the Gods, 

in case you're wondering why there are two of 'em. Got the older one in a lot sale online.

Incidentally, this one has instead of the customary G, the M from when the Fantasy Masterworks were still under the Millenium imprint. 

I have three of those, in case you're interested. I submit the picture here because I read something, somewhere, sometime, where someone wondered if there were any of these in actual existence, and there were pretty firm negatory responses to that question.

But eh. Yes. Yes, there are.

I've been reading Weaveworld on and off, but that's stalling, partially due to a lack of immersion. I'm actively letting it slide right now (though it will be done by the end of the week) because the read isn't going that great. I'm not sure why it hasn't been clicking, and it could be a response to an excess of imagination on Barker's part.
What, I hear you say?
Yes, I respond: Barker packs the novel with so much fantastical imagery it can be very hard to keep up with what's on display. There are rules, naturally, as to how this all works and fits together, but nothing settles for long enough to get comfortable. There also might not be enough build-up to do the story, setting, characters and imagery justice. That OR, I'm just extremely worn-out.
And I'm pretty sure it's actually this. I feel like I've been crashing for some time. Don't want to go too much into that right now. It's the mental stability thing and how it's gotten very wobbly. It's not depression though. It's just something that leaves me with an inability to deal with much right now. So to deal with that I'm easing off the throttle. It's resulted in me diminishing my working hours in order to try and find a balance somewhere.
For now, it's not doing much for me, but hey... here's a post right now, so it must be doing something, right?

The Time and the Gods Fantasy Masterwork short story collection is nearing its end, with practically only the Gods of Pegana being left. So far it's been a mixed bag, I have the feeling that both Books of Wonder have been mostly hit and miss. The best stories are in the earlier books in any case. And since Pegana was actually the earliest published short story in this collection I'm looking forward to this one, but for now I've still got about 5 of the Last book of Wonder short stories to go.

In the wake of the Next Testament post, I'm also continuing my Paradise Lost exploration, which got away from me after I blogged about book 2 last year. I'll be making a concerted effort to dedicate time to that this year, and so far it's been going good (I think). I've started reading and putting together my thoughts on book 3, which seems to contain the bulk of Milton's 'justifying the ways of God to men', and it's pretty much what I expected.
Putting together the reasoning here I'm very much reminded of the third Road of Faith post, where I tackled my expectations and conjectures on the finale to the Aspect Emperor cycle. It's actually quite surprising to see how close those are starting to align.
The 'Justifying' would always be the thing that I would be taking my time for, as it's something that I wanted to get absolutely right, but it's surprising to find that most of what I'm reading seems to correspond so closely with my once-held beliefs. But, as Milton was a protestant this maybe shouldn't have been so unexpected.

In gaming news, I finished Watch Dogs 2, which was stupid, silly, cringe-inducing and very good at the same time.

Here's a little outtake of about 70 percent into the game where the main characters just go somewhere and bond, have a time-out. Half the time the game is just over-the-top silliness, with the gadgets, guns and techno-conspiracy, but here, in the quiet, you get to notice just how good the dialogue can be and how cleverly and how, almost insidiously, Ubisoft starts to make you care about this thing they've built. On top of that, as you can hear, the music is quite pleasant, the Dedsec playlist especially.

I've also, on a whim, bought the complete edition for The Surge, and that's been pretty cool, albeit very confusing in its level layout. I've been pretty much playing only this today (and starting from today) and doing nothing else, because I knew I wasn't going to get anything done that I wanted to do. It's a very moody and brutal souls-like with a semi-open sci-fi world, which was what I was looking for. I've been having a hankering for sci-fi of late. Very unusual.

Here's a slice of gameplay, nothing much special and certainly no bosses (as the only one I killed was quite a tough bastard, and as a result that fight ended up not looking pretty... at all), but there's some cool moments nonetheless. No good ending though, as there's more of a focus on gameplay than storytelling here, the darkness and the occasional bloodcurdling scream do provide for a very good atmosphere though.

On my home trainer I've just passed the season 7 opening of the Walking Dead. You know, the one where Negan introduces himself properly.
I must say, for some reason, it didn't hit me that hard.And it really should have. I've known that this scene was coming since before I even watched episode 1 way back when but still, it should have done a little bit more to me. It's a shocking and painful episode, but it just didn't get me as much as I expected. I'll just ascribe it to the same thing that's negatively impacting my Weaveworld read. A worrying trend. I really need to bring myself back on a stable plane.

And to end on a pleasant note in background curiosities, while reading said novel, the world of the Weave, I perused some interviews with Clive Barker and it struck me how much he resembles Toby Stephens' depiction of captain Flint in Black Sails.

It goes beyond the physiognomy and the earrings. These guys have a lot in common.

Of course, Mister Barker is a little older now but it's still a funny little coincidence.

Also. To close it out: I met a friendly horse this week.

Well.

I say friendly.

It's not as if those apples didn't have anything to do with it.