A Robert E. Howard Reader at Fantasy Con Scotland

"The Legend" by George Paul Chalmers (ca 1864),
illustrating a scene from The Pirate (1821) by Walter Scott

Scotland, befitting a land of inventors and innovators inspired by infinite imagination, has long been a fertile realm for the field of fantasy fiction. The enigmatic ruins & monuments of the land's lost peoples conjured tales of Fairies in the hearts & minds of Scots; the deep lochs veiled lurking Kelpies and monsters; the mountains & islands attributed to the work of Giants, or even the bodies of Sea Serpents. Those stories themselves sprouted forth poems, sagas, legends, and myths, clasping round history and geography like flame flowers around a standing stone, with new tales & works continuing to this day. So deeply entwined is our history with our legend, one could be forgiven for mistaking an unbelievable truth for a convincing legend, and the reverse. 

Writers across the world have taken a cutting or two from Scotland's wild garden of myth & history, from Shakespeare subverting & transforming history entwined with supernatural themes in Macbeth, to John William Polidori's Lord Ruthden in The Vampyr; Mary Shelley's time in Dundee & Edinburgh informing Frankenstein, to Bram Stoker's stay at Slains Castle providing a sumptuous visual canvas for Dracula; onward to David Gemmel fashioning his Rigante saga after the Scottish Highlands, Gregory Widen's visit to Scotland inspiring the immortal Highlander, & Diane Gabaldon's love of Scottish history leading to the Outlander series.  Authors as varied as Jules Verne, William Hope Hodgson, A. Merritt, Robert W. Chambers, M.R. James, Edmond Hamilton, Greye La Spina, Manly Wade Wellman, Algernon Blackwood, Arthur Machen, Morgan Robertson, C. L. Moore, Seabury Quinn, Poul Anderson, Karl Edward Wagner, & many more besides have written stories about Scotland, Scots, or our stories.

Even a 20th century writer all the way in small-town Texas, who himself became founder & codifier of an entire genre within the wider field of fantasy, can trace those roots back to Caledonia.

Swording With Shadows: The Long Shadow of Robert E. Howard on his 116th

So the 22nd of January once again comes around. Currently I'm researching for a post on Ossian and the Celtic Revival in Scotland (watch this space), and I'm looking into the mythologisation of Scottish historical figures. Macbeth, the Red King, is perhaps the most myth-shrouded of all, famed as he is from Shakespeare's tragedy. For one of Scotland's greatest and most successful kings to be so traduced in the convening centuries - first by his own people, and then by one of the greatest authors in the history of the planet - is a tragedy a thousandfold that of the thrilling fiction.

Blame cannot truly be placed on Shakespeare: he was faithfully adapting the centuries-past recollection of Holinshed's Chronicles, itself based upon the black propaganda first recorded in Andrew of Wyntoun's Orygynale Cronykil of Scotland. The notion of Macbeth the murderous usurping tyrant did not begin with Shakespeare. What Shakespeare did contribute, however, is a captivating study into power and humanity, ambition and destiny, with some spooky goings-on for good measure.

And yet, even as I'm deep in Scottish history, I think of Howard.

170 Years of Robert Louis Stevenson

Well, if you want to get technical, it isn't for a wee while yet. Mr Stevenson legally waived all rights to 13th of November as his birthday to a Ms Annie Ide:

Most of us -  especially when we are young-look forward to our birthday each year. Greeting cards arrive in the mail. There may be some exciting presents and perhaps a party with friends. It's a special day and it's fun to be the center of attention.

But suppose that special day happened to come on December 25, the biggest holiday of the entire year? Noone would even notice an ordinary birthday in the middle of Christmas.

Annie Ide of SI. Johnsbury had just such a birthday. Annie was born in 1876 and when she was fifteen her father went to the island of Samoa in the South Pacific.  There he met Robert Louis Stevenson, the famous author of Treasure Island. The two men became good friends.

One day Annie's father told his friend that because his daughter was born on December 25, she had never had a real birthday celebration. Stevenson offered to give his birthday to Annie so she could have a day all her own. He mailed her a document that said,

"I, Robert Louis Stevenson, ... have attained an age when, 0, we never mention it, and... have no further use for a birthday of any description... do hereby transfer to... (Miss) A.H.Ide, all and whole my rights and privileges in the thirteenth day of November, formerly my birthday, now, hereby, and henceforth the birthday of the said A(nnie) H.Ide, to have, hold, exercise and enjoy the same in the customary manner, by the sporting of fine raiments, eating of rich meats and receipt of gifts, compliments and copies of verse, according to the manner of our ancestors."

Well, while I'm sure Annie enjoyed every 13th of November of her life, it would be a most diminished world if only one person could claim a day for their birthday, wouldn't it? I have a post over at DMR books talking about three of Stevenson's most important works, and how they affected me personally.