ostrava's review against another edition
5.0
I've read a couple of CAS tales and found him incredibly underrated. The ones set in Zotique tended to be the best, though my favorite of his is the Monster of the Prophecy (not included in this edition). In fact, I did not read this edition, but read stuff here and there over the Internet because it's next to impossible to find stories of this guy.
Anyway, give it a go. You're here mostly for atmosphere and vibe, don't read if lack of deep characterization bothers you.
Anyway, give it a go. You're here mostly for atmosphere and vibe, don't read if lack of deep characterization bothers you.
jobot0's review
dark
funny
inspiring
mysterious
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
akemi_666's review
2.0
Orientalism 101.
While both Clark Ashton Smith and Jack Vance were introduced to the popular imaginary through D&D, Jack Vance gives his characters desires, emotions and rationals, within his rather absurd and chaotic world. In Clark Ashton Smith, evil dudes are just evil, vaguely Eastern and necromantic, and sometimes black and cannibalistic.
At this stage in my life, it doesn't even offend me, I'm just bored with it all. I feel like I'm trapped in an endless ketamine trip watching Indiana Jones shoot a sword spinning Arab.
Like, even though a lot of Jack Vance's characters and scenarios became fantasy tropes, their original incarnations were more fleshed out than their later replications. But with Clark Ashton Smith, his characters and scenarios are empty of any greater intimacy, complexity . . . thingliness or historicity.
The writing is very pretty at times, and there are small moments of poignancy and delirium that I do really like.
While both Clark Ashton Smith and Jack Vance were introduced to the popular imaginary through D&D, Jack Vance gives his characters desires, emotions and rationals, within his rather absurd and chaotic world. In Clark Ashton Smith, evil dudes are just evil, vaguely Eastern and necromantic, and sometimes black and cannibalistic.
At this stage in my life, it doesn't even offend me, I'm just bored with it all. I feel like I'm trapped in an endless ketamine trip watching Indiana Jones shoot a sword spinning Arab.
Like, even though a lot of Jack Vance's characters and scenarios became fantasy tropes, their original incarnations were more fleshed out than their later replications. But with Clark Ashton Smith, his characters and scenarios are empty of any greater intimacy, complexity . . . thingliness or historicity.
The writing is very pretty at times, and there are small moments of poignancy and delirium that I do really like.
Spoiler
There's this one story told from the perspective of a zombie prince, raised by necromancers who've taken over the prince's fallen empire. The prince regains some dim form of consciousness, and is outraged at the enslavement of his people. Then he slowly plots with one of his zombie forefathers to regain their freedom to die. Like that is fucking great. But it's few and far between.jeffhall's review against another edition
5.0
Clark Ashton Smith was a uniquely talented writer in the fields of fantasy and the weird, and his tales of the future continent of Zothique are his crowning achievement in fiction. Although they fit neatly into the "Dying Earth" subgenre of science fiction, they were written before that label was first applied, and before others had capitalized on his highly original ideas.
The individual stories do not share many characters or narrative threads, yet when read collectively they paint a powerful portrait of a world where magic is real and rarely beneficent, where the undead seem to lurk around every corner, and where baleful spirits of the past are always causing trouble. Most of the residents of Zothique seem to be cruel, gluttonous, and darkly lustful, but their wicked ways never bring them satisfaction, lending an odd moral component to these tales.
In the end, Smith's rich poetic language is what makes the tales of Zothqiue so rewarding. He is able to maintain that difficult magic perfectly in these short stories, where it might get tiresome in a work of novel length. The consistency of tone, foreboding and sardonic, is almost perfect throughout, with the exception of "The Voyage of King Euvoran", a satirical piece imported from one of Smith's other story cycles. Ignoring that one misstep, everything else in this volume is nearly perfect, and endlessly worth rereading.
The individual stories do not share many characters or narrative threads, yet when read collectively they paint a powerful portrait of a world where magic is real and rarely beneficent, where the undead seem to lurk around every corner, and where baleful spirits of the past are always causing trouble. Most of the residents of Zothique seem to be cruel, gluttonous, and darkly lustful, but their wicked ways never bring them satisfaction, lending an odd moral component to these tales.
In the end, Smith's rich poetic language is what makes the tales of Zothqiue so rewarding. He is able to maintain that difficult magic perfectly in these short stories, where it might get tiresome in a work of novel length. The consistency of tone, foreboding and sardonic, is almost perfect throughout, with the exception of "The Voyage of King Euvoran", a satirical piece imported from one of Smith's other story cycles. Ignoring that one misstep, everything else in this volume is nearly perfect, and endlessly worth rereading.
b1llz1lla's review
3.0
Zothique, by Clark Ashton Smith, is typically lumped in with the Cthulhu Mythos along with its author, largely because Smtih was a regular correspondent of Lovecraft's. However, Zothique bears more in common with the Arabian Nights than dank, damp Cthulhu.
From the Epilogue by Lin Carter we learn that Smith's Zothique cycle of stores, all published in the pulp magazine Weird Tales between 1932 and 1948, are set in Earth's distant future, where high technology is but a memory and magic has once again become a powerful force. Several of the stories were, IMHO, quite, good; most, however, lacked that certain spark that makes a story interested and engrossing. I wouldn't recommend this book to very many people, largely because I don't think it holds up as well as the stories from the Hyperboria collection. I enjoyed it as a trip through Smith's liberal use of the dictionary for arcane terminology. Smith apparently was largely self-educated beyond grammar school; mostly his further education seems to have consisted of reading every word in the Oxford Unabridged and the complete Britannica, not only once but several times.)
I'm a big fan of Smith's work in general, and have been searching for YEARS for a copy of Zothique, which a friend kindly loaned to me back in November.
From the Epilogue by Lin Carter we learn that Smith's Zothique cycle of stores, all published in the pulp magazine Weird Tales between 1932 and 1948, are set in Earth's distant future, where high technology is but a memory and magic has once again become a powerful force. Several of the stories were, IMHO, quite, good; most, however, lacked that certain spark that makes a story interested and engrossing. I wouldn't recommend this book to very many people, largely because I don't think it holds up as well as the stories from the Hyperboria collection. I enjoyed it as a trip through Smith's liberal use of the dictionary for arcane terminology. Smith apparently was largely self-educated beyond grammar school; mostly his further education seems to have consisted of reading every word in the Oxford Unabridged and the complete Britannica, not only once but several times.)
I'm a big fan of Smith's work in general, and have been searching for YEARS for a copy of Zothique, which a friend kindly loaned to me back in November.
jgkeely's review against another edition
4.0
I've spoken before about the constant invention and reinvention of the 'Mystical East' in Western fiction, but by and large, the reason authors do this isn't to malign the East, or to produce propaganda--these are just the secondary results--indeed, it isn't really about the East at all, it's about the author and their own personal self-invention.
It is the dark and coursing undercurrent of European perversity, sensuality, and violence which inspires these writers. It is an obsession with transgression, with things that cannot be openly and plainly discussed. The technique here is to express and explore these forbidden topics, but then to blame them on the image of the East in order to create the necessary safe distance, providing the author a buffer, a layer of deniability.
There are whole structures in our language built to produce just this kind of distancing. We talk about 'French' kissing, or 'Greek' love--we named buggery for the Bulgars, and mutual female desire for the residents of Lesbos. Even as we discuss, request, and engage in these acts, we blame them on someone else. Even as we perform them, we typify them not as our own behaviors, but the behaviors of others.
It's not as if our desires to do these things are going to go away, so instead, we personify and externalize those desires. A man sees an attractive woman on the street, he desires her, and he thinks of her as the source of that desire--but while it might be true that she inspired the desire in him, it is still he who is desiring, the desire comes from within him. Her role is passive, because she can inspire such desire without even being aware of it.
And yet, there are men who will blame her for that desire, who will project their own desires onto her: 'she wants it, if she didn't, she wouldn't dress that way, it's flattering, girls like being appreciated'. It is just an attempt to justify this desire, to justify feeling it, or even acting on it.
The same pattern of justification is evident in colonialism: that the colonized power must want to be colonized, must need it. Again and again, the argument was made that they wanted to be ruled, that they couldn't make it on their own, that they were immature, brutal, uncivilized, and that to be ruled was a gift. Domination stems from a desire for power and control, for profit, to take advantage of others, everything else is merely excuses, projections onto the passive party to blame them for being acted upon.
As such, the notion of the East became a natural site for displaced desires. Pulp stories are sites of sex and violence, which has long been their bane, as it makes them a target for censorship and blame. As such, it makes sense that pulp authors would use projection and justifications of this kind to ‘take the heat off’, to present sex and violence with a naturally built in buffer, a socially accepted rationale: we’re presenting it not simply to revel in it, but to present cultural dynamics that we all know are true.
But this means that, beyond simply condemning such presentations of the East as racist and convenient, we can look at them as they actually are: messy representations of the Western id run rampant, presented under a thin veil of obfuscation. After the colonial adventure tales of Kipling and Haggard slipped out of popular venues and were related to study in classrooms, the vision of the 'Mystical East' on which they relied found a new home in Sword & Sorcery fantasy, and there may be no more pure and evocative representation of it than here in Smith's Zothique.
The prose is precise, unusual, powerful--the voice of a poet. It is neither the plodding dulness of Lovecraft nor the sometimes grasping repetition of Howard. This is the true and unique world of Sword & Sorcery fantasy which some other authors labor to inhabit, rich and perverse and full of deathly passions. Lovecraft cannot match it, nor Burroughs, nor even Howard, its most notable practitioner. The lineage of influence stretching from Smith to later fantasists is obvious, for instance the sense of humor that pervades these tales, which Vance reproduced in a tone much more dry, and Leiber in one very much less.
Even they were not quite able to capture the pervasive world Smith presents. It may be painted in crude images of ebony-skinned, thick-lipped, obese enchanters, but if it’s crude, that’s only what it’s meant to be. A complex, nuanced view of the imagined East would deny its presentation as a photonegative of the West (or at least, of how the West likes to imagine itself). The oversexed, overly violent projection of the id can hardly be presented in subtle terms.
The fairy tale must be drawn in broad strokes, lacking the subtlety that allows for various interpretations. It denies the reader access to the inner workings of the piece, denies them the privilege of interpretation. Instead, it is done as propaganda, simplified enough that the sides are clear.
This is why the post-modern habit has been rewriting and reimagining these fairy tales, looking at them through the eyes of the ‘villain’, looking at the absurdity of the symbols on which the allegory relies, symbols which inevitably fly apart when analyzed closely. The story deconstructs the tale by going through all the same steps, but refusing to make the same assumptions.
As such, is it possible to recreate the invented East in a modern tale, or is that the equivalent of taking the allegory it represents for granted? Does injecting any kind of subtlety, realism, and other such space for interpretation make the wild, strange, exotic setting impossible? I'd be curious to see a skilled author try it.
Perhaps it was inevitable that, as evocative as his uncanny realm is, it tends to dwarf his characters, making it difficult to get into their heads, or to care much about them. This was one area where Howard outperformed him, producing figures of suitably 'gigantic melancholy and gigantic mirth' to fit their grand stage--and Leiber took the same formula even further.
To some degree, this is a deliberate aspect of Smith's style: he is not interested in whether his characters thrive or survive, indeed their wry downfalls are often part of the charm. Yet, these are not quite the tonal explorations of Dunsany, where characters are entirely secondary to description, rhythm, and feel. We do spend time with Smith's characters, with their thoughts and feelings, their desires and motivations, and yet, for all this, they rarely manage to stand out.
And while this collection has some very strong stories, the presentation sometimes suffers. The final story has a strong premise, interesting themes, but Smith presents them simply, in straightforward narration, making it feel more like an outline or summary at times than a story. Though he has a strong poetic voice and interesting language, in comparison to an author like Dunsany, he lacks a light touch, the subtlety that weaves magic throughout. A story’s theme should become clear to us based on the events described, the characters, the details, the use of words--not just explained to us in so many words.
Though he is certainly a writer with flaws, the sheer idiom of his style draws us in: the strength of his voice, and the unusual, playful way that he treats his tales. In the few stories where either the characters manage to sparkle, or Smith simply allows them to subsist in the background as the true protagonist, his setting, takes its rightful place, this series contains some true gems, visions which have inspired not merely other authors, but the very innovators of fantasy, writers who have changed its course, and who have created unique worlds in their own right. Smith is a stylist and a grandfather to stylists, demonstrating that often times, the only way to write is to take things too far, to indulge, to get lost at play, to produce a repast so rich and overwhelming that we cannot savor it--but neither will we forget it.
It is the dark and coursing undercurrent of European perversity, sensuality, and violence which inspires these writers. It is an obsession with transgression, with things that cannot be openly and plainly discussed. The technique here is to express and explore these forbidden topics, but then to blame them on the image of the East in order to create the necessary safe distance, providing the author a buffer, a layer of deniability.
There are whole structures in our language built to produce just this kind of distancing. We talk about 'French' kissing, or 'Greek' love--we named buggery for the Bulgars, and mutual female desire for the residents of Lesbos. Even as we discuss, request, and engage in these acts, we blame them on someone else. Even as we perform them, we typify them not as our own behaviors, but the behaviors of others.
It's not as if our desires to do these things are going to go away, so instead, we personify and externalize those desires. A man sees an attractive woman on the street, he desires her, and he thinks of her as the source of that desire--but while it might be true that she inspired the desire in him, it is still he who is desiring, the desire comes from within him. Her role is passive, because she can inspire such desire without even being aware of it.
And yet, there are men who will blame her for that desire, who will project their own desires onto her: 'she wants it, if she didn't, she wouldn't dress that way, it's flattering, girls like being appreciated'. It is just an attempt to justify this desire, to justify feeling it, or even acting on it.
The same pattern of justification is evident in colonialism: that the colonized power must want to be colonized, must need it. Again and again, the argument was made that they wanted to be ruled, that they couldn't make it on their own, that they were immature, brutal, uncivilized, and that to be ruled was a gift. Domination stems from a desire for power and control, for profit, to take advantage of others, everything else is merely excuses, projections onto the passive party to blame them for being acted upon.
As such, the notion of the East became a natural site for displaced desires. Pulp stories are sites of sex and violence, which has long been their bane, as it makes them a target for censorship and blame. As such, it makes sense that pulp authors would use projection and justifications of this kind to ‘take the heat off’, to present sex and violence with a naturally built in buffer, a socially accepted rationale: we’re presenting it not simply to revel in it, but to present cultural dynamics that we all know are true.
But this means that, beyond simply condemning such presentations of the East as racist and convenient, we can look at them as they actually are: messy representations of the Western id run rampant, presented under a thin veil of obfuscation. After the colonial adventure tales of Kipling and Haggard slipped out of popular venues and were related to study in classrooms, the vision of the 'Mystical East' on which they relied found a new home in Sword & Sorcery fantasy, and there may be no more pure and evocative representation of it than here in Smith's Zothique.
The prose is precise, unusual, powerful--the voice of a poet. It is neither the plodding dulness of Lovecraft nor the sometimes grasping repetition of Howard. This is the true and unique world of Sword & Sorcery fantasy which some other authors labor to inhabit, rich and perverse and full of deathly passions. Lovecraft cannot match it, nor Burroughs, nor even Howard, its most notable practitioner. The lineage of influence stretching from Smith to later fantasists is obvious, for instance the sense of humor that pervades these tales, which Vance reproduced in a tone much more dry, and Leiber in one very much less.
Even they were not quite able to capture the pervasive world Smith presents. It may be painted in crude images of ebony-skinned, thick-lipped, obese enchanters, but if it’s crude, that’s only what it’s meant to be. A complex, nuanced view of the imagined East would deny its presentation as a photonegative of the West (or at least, of how the West likes to imagine itself). The oversexed, overly violent projection of the id can hardly be presented in subtle terms.
The fairy tale must be drawn in broad strokes, lacking the subtlety that allows for various interpretations. It denies the reader access to the inner workings of the piece, denies them the privilege of interpretation. Instead, it is done as propaganda, simplified enough that the sides are clear.
This is why the post-modern habit has been rewriting and reimagining these fairy tales, looking at them through the eyes of the ‘villain’, looking at the absurdity of the symbols on which the allegory relies, symbols which inevitably fly apart when analyzed closely. The story deconstructs the tale by going through all the same steps, but refusing to make the same assumptions.
As such, is it possible to recreate the invented East in a modern tale, or is that the equivalent of taking the allegory it represents for granted? Does injecting any kind of subtlety, realism, and other such space for interpretation make the wild, strange, exotic setting impossible? I'd be curious to see a skilled author try it.
Perhaps it was inevitable that, as evocative as his uncanny realm is, it tends to dwarf his characters, making it difficult to get into their heads, or to care much about them. This was one area where Howard outperformed him, producing figures of suitably 'gigantic melancholy and gigantic mirth' to fit their grand stage--and Leiber took the same formula even further.
To some degree, this is a deliberate aspect of Smith's style: he is not interested in whether his characters thrive or survive, indeed their wry downfalls are often part of the charm. Yet, these are not quite the tonal explorations of Dunsany, where characters are entirely secondary to description, rhythm, and feel. We do spend time with Smith's characters, with their thoughts and feelings, their desires and motivations, and yet, for all this, they rarely manage to stand out.
And while this collection has some very strong stories, the presentation sometimes suffers. The final story has a strong premise, interesting themes, but Smith presents them simply, in straightforward narration, making it feel more like an outline or summary at times than a story. Though he has a strong poetic voice and interesting language, in comparison to an author like Dunsany, he lacks a light touch, the subtlety that weaves magic throughout. A story’s theme should become clear to us based on the events described, the characters, the details, the use of words--not just explained to us in so many words.
Though he is certainly a writer with flaws, the sheer idiom of his style draws us in: the strength of his voice, and the unusual, playful way that he treats his tales. In the few stories where either the characters manage to sparkle, or Smith simply allows them to subsist in the background as the true protagonist, his setting, takes its rightful place, this series contains some true gems, visions which have inspired not merely other authors, but the very innovators of fantasy, writers who have changed its course, and who have created unique worlds in their own right. Smith is a stylist and a grandfather to stylists, demonstrating that often times, the only way to write is to take things too far, to indulge, to get lost at play, to produce a repast so rich and overwhelming that we cannot savor it--but neither will we forget it.
hammard's review against another edition
2.0
This collection of stories and universe are wonderfully atmospheric and Ashton Smith goes out of his way to create a real sense of myth. However, they did not engage me and largely felt anti-climactic.
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