Emil Petaja (1915–2000)
Autor de The Saga of Lost Earths
Sobre El Autor
Series
Obras de Emil Petaja
The Caves Of Mars 7 copias
Seed of the Dreamers 5 copias
The Prism 2 copias
The Intruder (short story) 1 copia
The stolen sun and Tramontane 1 copia
Alfa Cellatlarý 1 copia
Five Against Arlane 1 copia
Obras relacionadas
Etiquetado
Conocimiento común
- Nombre canónico
- Petaja, Emil
- Nombre legal
- Petaja, Emil Theodore
- Otros nombres
- Pine, Theodore
- Fecha de nacimiento
- 1915-04-12
- Fecha de fallecimiento
- 2000-08-17
- Género
- male
- Nacionalidad
- USA
- Lugar de nacimiento
- Milltown, Montana, USA
- Lugar de fallecimiento
- San Francisco, California, USA
- Lugares de residencia
- Milltown, Montana, USA (birthplace)
Los Angeles, California, USA
San Francisco, California, USA - Organizaciones
- Mystery Writers of America
- Premios y honores
- SFWA Author Emeritus (1995)
Miembros
Reseñas
Time Twister, The
Fantasy
review of
A. Bertram Chandler's Space Mercenaries & Emil Petaja's The Caves of Mars
by tENTATIVELY, a cONVENIENCE - February 21, 2017
There was probably a time in my life when I wd've felt like I was being too unintellectual to be reading bks w/ titles like Space Mercenaries & The Caves of Mars.. but, what the heck, I ACCEPT that SF is my life's blood (metaphorically, ie). I almost always find something enjoyable & stimulating in SF.
Space Mercenaries is the last of the Chandlers I have laying around the house to be read. This is the 23rd I'll've read & reviewed in the last 9 mnths. I don't really care if I say much about it b/c I've already written so much at length about him. Readers interested in my take on Chandler wd be better off reading reviews that're here: https://www.goodreads.com/story/show/456068-grimesblower or here: https://www.goodreads.com/story/show/459244-i-like-a-bertram-chandler-s-stories b/c I don't have anything new to say in this review.
"["]I like money," remarked the ex-Empress Irene. "I have always liked money. But I possess a conscience. A luxury," she added thoughtfully, "which I can now afford to indulge."
""Mmph?" grunted her husband, as he made a fractional adjustment to the gain control." - p 5
I dunno about this "Mmph" business. I think John Grimes shd sue. Next thing we know Trafford'll be stinking the place up w/ a pipe.
""Give the wench time to recover from her brain-washing. She had a far rougher time on the hallucinogenic world than either of us. It'll be months before she's anything more than a puppet."" - p 8
Ok, ok, I wasn't going to tell you wch bks are being referred to but then I won't be able to show off that I know. &... drum roll please, the story being referred to is.. The Alternate Martians (You might as well read my review of it here: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1713635932 ).
"From the Terran viewpoint Slithila City had little to recommend it—but a climate congenial to reptiles is not likely to appeal to mammals. Trafford had made Slithila his first port of call after lifting from the planet of the hallucinogens, for only one reason: it was the nearest world with a regular service of interstellar passenger liners. He had wanted to get the prisoners off his hands" - p 11
The polka-dotted swoomerang spun around & flicked its forked tail in Irene's direction:
"The driver regarded her with the expression of a petulant crocodile, then stared reproachfully at Trafford, "Kapitan, do I the orders of this egg-layer take?"" - p 12
Wha?! "polka-dotted swoomerang"?! Where did that come from? What's wrong w/ this review?! The hallucinating was in The Alternate Martians, the reviewer is not supposed to interpolate fictional elements just for his or her own amusement! Keep in line there, buddy-boy!
Linguists: Is Slithilan SOV? 60 pp later & we're in Sweden, these spaceship setters sure do get around:
""There were not many neutrals, but among the neutral powers was Sweden. The Swedes owned a considerable merchant fleet, and their ships, with Swedish flags painted on their topsides and superstructure, sailed in the big convoys that plied between the United States and England. In spite of their display of national colors they were often fired upon by German aircraft that attacked the convoys. And there is nothing more annoying tha"[n] [Ok, I'm correcting a typo here] "being shot at without having the wherewithal to shoot back. The Swedish mariners didn't like it.
""Finally, some unsung genius came up with an answer to the problem. Of course, the ships could not mount armament that was the property either of their own government or of the British or American Admiralties. But . . .
""It was then, and is now, perfectly legal for Masters and Officers to carry weapons for their own protection. Normally, such weapons are only side arms—but there is nothing laid down in black and white. So the Swedish ships did, at the end, carry machine guns—and these guns, legally speaking, were the personal property of each Captain and his Mates. They signed receipts for them. Those point thirties or point three-oh-threes or whatever were private property, not government issue."" - pp 72-73
&, yes, that historical tidbit alone made reading this bk worthwhile to me. But what about telepathy-jamming, you ask? If I'm commanding a bicycle from a neutral country shd my telepathy-jammer be my own property or my government's?
"Metzenther, working with a team of local biological engineers, had produced a number of personal thought-wave jammers, each of which consisted of a fragment of a cat's brain, kept alive in a tiny vial of nutrient solution, which continuously broadcast on an emotional rather than an intellectual level, which screamed hungrily—and the hunger motivating the scream was for the red, bleeding flesh of birds, any sort of birds." - p 76
That's all well & good, I mean it's positively the cat's pajamas but have you ever had one of those mornings when you're hungover & you go to the fridge & you grab what you think is the strawberry jam & you spread a dollop on the bread that you don't notice the mold on & after it's too late you realize that you've just eaten that fucking cat-brain thought jammer by mistake?! I mean, that's a really bad way to start of your late afternoon.
Uh.. Where was I? Oh, yeah, I was upside-down in The Caves of Mars. Have you ever heard of Emil Petaja? Maybe when you were in a dangerous bar near the waterfront? Whispered w/ fear as the patrons slink hastily toward the exit door? Well, out boy Petaja was of Finnish ancestry so I shd probably be listening to Einojuhani Rautavaara's "Cantus Arcticus" right now insteead of Lutoslawski's "Mi-Parti for Symphony Orchestra". Sorry Finland. OR, I shd be listening to something by Charles Wuorinen, maybe his "Time's Encomium" b/c it's electronic & electronic music & SF go together hoof & mouth. Ideally, I'd be listening to music by a Finnish-American composer living on Mars but Wikipedia is really lacking in info about that category.
"Emil Petaja was born in Western Montana in 1915. In his early years, he immersed himself in reading fantasy books and exploring his surroundings. He attended the University of Montana, but did not receive his degree; instead, he moved to Los Angeles, where he became acquainted with some of the great mainstream writers of his time.
"In California, he wrote 14 science fiction novels and 150 short stories. He wrote in the genres of fantasy and science fiction, detective and western fiction." - http://www.finnala.com/Petaja_Emil.html
So, ok, Petaja isn't a pen-name for William Faulkner. Too bad. The story opens like a door onto oblivion:
"He'd stopped at a bar and downed two quick drinks before his climb up this neon-splashed ad pylon on the highest building he could find. But he wasn't fuzzy. BY no means! Wind pressed his leanness against a narrow strut; three inches of steel supported his booted foot." - p 5
"He couldn't bear to look down at the plastic arm they had glued onto his right shoulder stump. It worked after a fashion, sure. It had helped him climb up here. But, being the kind of man he was, an awkward mechanical arm just wasn't enough. he couldn't take it. He wouldn't. So . . ." - p 6
At least he wasn't climbing an ad python w/ a Plastic Jesus glued to his stump.
Then there's Mars. Where, o where, did its inhabitants go? I think there was s slight fuck-up at the very popular bubble gum factory & before you cd say the 1st name of every microbe on the planet while juggling Martian pink elephants everyone turned invisible.
""It's not a new theory, exactly," Ric pointed out.
""No. But my evidence is. In my opinion the migration was not caused by any lack of water or dwindling atmosphere. They had progressed to the point of producing their own, or evolved beyond the point of need. No. Some sudden overwhelming tragedy occurred. Possibly self-inflicted. Something that wiped away all trace of the existence of those great cities and reduced them to electronic dust."
""What could do that?"
""We almost succeeded in doing the same thing." Alan pointed out. "Had it not been for an almost perfect stalemate, the Third War would have brought Earth to exactly the same kind of ending."" - p 10
That's a pretty generic SF premise, I prefer mine. As for "the Third War"?! We wish, right?! How about the Three-Hundred-Thousandth War? Anyway, next thing you know, your arm's vaporized by a doorway.
"Ric ran his hand along the smooth rim thoughtfully, then in, further and further in and down, where the crevice widened near the floor.
"It happened then, and fast.
"His arm was bitten off, as if by sudden lightning." - p 11
At least he didn't stick his 3rd leg in there. Imagine climbing an ad python w/ a Plastic Jesus glued to that stump. Nasty. What happens next? Weeelllll, I introduce "M-P" w/o telling you what it is.. letting yr lurid little imagination run rampant w/ "Military Police" or Motor Petrol" or "Malignant Puma" or "Massive Penis" or "Mutual Problem" or "Marvelous Passions"..
"M-P didn't need hypno-ads. Everyone who tried it praised it to the skies. Their health was so improved they were reborn. New teeth sprouted in octogenarian mouths, diseased organs replaced themselves, sightless people saw. Deaf-mutes chortled their heads off, extolling M-P. The strange fungi spores swept the world like a beautiful plague." - pp 15-16
& the next thing you know we're 34pp more into the bk & it's like we're at Jonestown or something.
"the voice out of nowhere came again.
""My dear friends! My children!"
""Father!" they chanted in ecstasy.
""I greet you again before our day of happy toil begins," the deep voice intoned, with a sense of inner power and paternal warmth. "We are all happy here in Gilead, are we not?"
""Yes!" The affirmation was a great roar to the topmost crag.
"The rich voice was deliberately slow in coming. Each word was a pearl. "We are happy because we are healthy. Our bodies and our minds are free from all ills. That is as it should be. That is as it will be for all mankind!"
""Father!"
""I thank you for your love and your trust. Now, each one of us must dedicate this bright day to his tasks. With sustained courage and hope, and with the realization that he is participating in the beginning of a new and glorious Earth! There are greater miracles to come, my children. All of you shall become the vanguard of a new super race!"
"There was more, a hint that the time was drawing near when the whole world would not only accept them with open arms but would revere them as courageous pioneers. All the while this benevolent voice rang out across the wide valley Ric squirmed. The verbiage was familiar and distasteful, somehow. It smacked of bad old times, of dictators who cozened their followers with "superior race" nonsense." - pp 50-51
"["]Once a megolithic leader created an ingenious ring of stone on an island, which by its astronomical accuracy in reading the movements of the sun and the moon told our astronomers that momentarily our minds could fuse."
""Stonehenge!"" - p 102
Father!
"["]While our scientific minds were hopefully struggling with Earth-contacts and other vast mysteries, lesser minds were struggling for domination of our people. Just as your lofty minds have been superceded by power-mad militarists, so the Yeth. There were wars, suicidal wars. Atomic fission was discovered. Our resources were depleted. Our atmosphere was polluted.["]" - p 103
Yeth sirree-bob, there're definitely recurring themes in SF for at least 20 yrs post the inexcusable bombings of Hiroshima & Nagasaki. If they had to bomb, why not the Emperor's palace, eh?! Pessimism was a badly needed warning & most of us who read SF were on the same page, so to speak.… (más)
A. Bertram Chandler's Space Mercenaries & Emil Petaja's The Caves of Mars
by tENTATIVELY, a cONVENIENCE - February 21, 2017
There was probably a time in my life when I wd've felt like I was being too unintellectual to be reading bks w/ titles like Space Mercenaries & The Caves of Mars.. but, what the heck, I ACCEPT that SF is my life's blood (metaphorically, ie). I almost always find something enjoyable & stimulating in SF.
Space Mercenaries is the last of the Chandlers I have laying around the house to be read. This is the 23rd I'll've read & reviewed in the last 9 mnths. I don't really care if I say much about it b/c I've already written so much at length about him. Readers interested in my take on Chandler wd be better off reading reviews that're here: https://www.goodreads.com/story/show/456068-grimesblower or here: https://www.goodreads.com/story/show/459244-i-like-a-bertram-chandler-s-stories b/c I don't have anything new to say in this review.
"["]I like money," remarked the ex-Empress Irene. "I have always liked money. But I possess a conscience. A luxury," she added thoughtfully, "which I can now afford to indulge."
""Mmph?" grunted her husband, as he made a fractional adjustment to the gain control." - p 5
I dunno about this "Mmph" business. I think John Grimes shd sue. Next thing we know Trafford'll be stinking the place up w/ a pipe.
""Give the wench time to recover from her brain-washing. She had a far rougher time on the hallucinogenic world than either of us. It'll be months before she's anything more than a puppet."" - p 8
Ok, ok, I wasn't going to tell you wch bks are being referred to but then I won't be able to show off that I know. &... drum roll please, the story being referred to is.. The Alternate Martians (You might as well read my review of it here: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1713635932 ).
"From the Terran viewpoint Slithila City had little to recommend it—but a climate congenial to reptiles is not likely to appeal to mammals. Trafford had made Slithila his first port of call after lifting from the planet of the hallucinogens, for only one reason: it was the nearest world with a regular service of interstellar passenger liners. He had wanted to get the prisoners off his hands" - p 11
The polka-dotted swoomerang spun around & flicked its forked tail in Irene's direction:
"The driver regarded her with the expression of a petulant crocodile, then stared reproachfully at Trafford, "Kapitan, do I the orders of this egg-layer take?"" - p 12
Wha?! "polka-dotted swoomerang"?! Where did that come from? What's wrong w/ this review?! The hallucinating was in The Alternate Martians, the reviewer is not supposed to interpolate fictional elements just for his or her own amusement! Keep in line there, buddy-boy!
Linguists: Is Slithilan SOV? 60 pp later & we're in Sweden, these spaceship setters sure do get around:
""There were not many neutrals, but among the neutral powers was Sweden. The Swedes owned a considerable merchant fleet, and their ships, with Swedish flags painted on their topsides and superstructure, sailed in the big convoys that plied between the United States and England. In spite of their display of national colors they were often fired upon by German aircraft that attacked the convoys. And there is nothing more annoying tha"[n] [Ok, I'm correcting a typo here] "being shot at without having the wherewithal to shoot back. The Swedish mariners didn't like it.
""Finally, some unsung genius came up with an answer to the problem. Of course, the ships could not mount armament that was the property either of their own government or of the British or American Admiralties. But . . .
""It was then, and is now, perfectly legal for Masters and Officers to carry weapons for their own protection. Normally, such weapons are only side arms—but there is nothing laid down in black and white. So the Swedish ships did, at the end, carry machine guns—and these guns, legally speaking, were the personal property of each Captain and his Mates. They signed receipts for them. Those point thirties or point three-oh-threes or whatever were private property, not government issue."" - pp 72-73
&, yes, that historical tidbit alone made reading this bk worthwhile to me. But what about telepathy-jamming, you ask? If I'm commanding a bicycle from a neutral country shd my telepathy-jammer be my own property or my government's?
"Metzenther, working with a team of local biological engineers, had produced a number of personal thought-wave jammers, each of which consisted of a fragment of a cat's brain, kept alive in a tiny vial of nutrient solution, which continuously broadcast on an emotional rather than an intellectual level, which screamed hungrily—and the hunger motivating the scream was for the red, bleeding flesh of birds, any sort of birds." - p 76
That's all well & good, I mean it's positively the cat's pajamas but have you ever had one of those mornings when you're hungover & you go to the fridge & you grab what you think is the strawberry jam & you spread a dollop on the bread that you don't notice the mold on & after it's too late you realize that you've just eaten that fucking cat-brain thought jammer by mistake?! I mean, that's a really bad way to start of your late afternoon.
Uh.. Where was I? Oh, yeah, I was upside-down in The Caves of Mars. Have you ever heard of Emil Petaja? Maybe when you were in a dangerous bar near the waterfront? Whispered w/ fear as the patrons slink hastily toward the exit door? Well, out boy Petaja was of Finnish ancestry so I shd probably be listening to Einojuhani Rautavaara's "Cantus Arcticus" right now insteead of Lutoslawski's "Mi-Parti for Symphony Orchestra". Sorry Finland. OR, I shd be listening to something by Charles Wuorinen, maybe his "Time's Encomium" b/c it's electronic & electronic music & SF go together hoof & mouth. Ideally, I'd be listening to music by a Finnish-American composer living on Mars but Wikipedia is really lacking in info about that category.
"Emil Petaja was born in Western Montana in 1915. In his early years, he immersed himself in reading fantasy books and exploring his surroundings. He attended the University of Montana, but did not receive his degree; instead, he moved to Los Angeles, where he became acquainted with some of the great mainstream writers of his time.
"In California, he wrote 14 science fiction novels and 150 short stories. He wrote in the genres of fantasy and science fiction, detective and western fiction." - http://www.finnala.com/Petaja_Emil.html
So, ok, Petaja isn't a pen-name for William Faulkner. Too bad. The story opens like a door onto oblivion:
"He'd stopped at a bar and downed two quick drinks before his climb up this neon-splashed ad pylon on the highest building he could find. But he wasn't fuzzy. BY no means! Wind pressed his leanness against a narrow strut; three inches of steel supported his booted foot." - p 5
"He couldn't bear to look down at the plastic arm they had glued onto his right shoulder stump. It worked after a fashion, sure. It had helped him climb up here. But, being the kind of man he was, an awkward mechanical arm just wasn't enough. he couldn't take it. He wouldn't. So . . ." - p 6
At least he wasn't climbing an ad python w/ a Plastic Jesus glued to his stump.
Then there's Mars. Where, o where, did its inhabitants go? I think there was s slight fuck-up at the very popular bubble gum factory & before you cd say the 1st name of every microbe on the planet while juggling Martian pink elephants everyone turned invisible.
""It's not a new theory, exactly," Ric pointed out.
""No. But my evidence is. In my opinion the migration was not caused by any lack of water or dwindling atmosphere. They had progressed to the point of producing their own, or evolved beyond the point of need. No. Some sudden overwhelming tragedy occurred. Possibly self-inflicted. Something that wiped away all trace of the existence of those great cities and reduced them to electronic dust."
""What could do that?"
""We almost succeeded in doing the same thing." Alan pointed out. "Had it not been for an almost perfect stalemate, the Third War would have brought Earth to exactly the same kind of ending."" - p 10
That's a pretty generic SF premise, I prefer mine. As for "the Third War"?! We wish, right?! How about the Three-Hundred-Thousandth War? Anyway, next thing you know, your arm's vaporized by a doorway.
"Ric ran his hand along the smooth rim thoughtfully, then in, further and further in and down, where the crevice widened near the floor.
"It happened then, and fast.
"His arm was bitten off, as if by sudden lightning." - p 11
At least he didn't stick his 3rd leg in there. Imagine climbing an ad python w/ a Plastic Jesus glued to that stump. Nasty. What happens next? Weeelllll, I introduce "M-P" w/o telling you what it is.. letting yr lurid little imagination run rampant w/ "Military Police" or Motor Petrol" or "Malignant Puma" or "Massive Penis" or "Mutual Problem" or "Marvelous Passions"..
"M-P didn't need hypno-ads. Everyone who tried it praised it to the skies. Their health was so improved they were reborn. New teeth sprouted in octogenarian mouths, diseased organs replaced themselves, sightless people saw. Deaf-mutes chortled their heads off, extolling M-P. The strange fungi spores swept the world like a beautiful plague." - pp 15-16
& the next thing you know we're 34pp more into the bk & it's like we're at Jonestown or something.
"the voice out of nowhere came again.
""My dear friends! My children!"
""Father!" they chanted in ecstasy.
""I greet you again before our day of happy toil begins," the deep voice intoned, with a sense of inner power and paternal warmth. "We are all happy here in Gilead, are we not?"
""Yes!" The affirmation was a great roar to the topmost crag.
"The rich voice was deliberately slow in coming. Each word was a pearl. "We are happy because we are healthy. Our bodies and our minds are free from all ills. That is as it should be. That is as it will be for all mankind!"
""Father!"
""I thank you for your love and your trust. Now, each one of us must dedicate this bright day to his tasks. With sustained courage and hope, and with the realization that he is participating in the beginning of a new and glorious Earth! There are greater miracles to come, my children. All of you shall become the vanguard of a new super race!"
"There was more, a hint that the time was drawing near when the whole world would not only accept them with open arms but would revere them as courageous pioneers. All the while this benevolent voice rang out across the wide valley Ric squirmed. The verbiage was familiar and distasteful, somehow. It smacked of bad old times, of dictators who cozened their followers with "superior race" nonsense." - pp 50-51
"["]Once a megolithic leader created an ingenious ring of stone on an island, which by its astronomical accuracy in reading the movements of the sun and the moon told our astronomers that momentarily our minds could fuse."
""Stonehenge!"" - p 102
Father!
"["]While our scientific minds were hopefully struggling with Earth-contacts and other vast mysteries, lesser minds were struggling for domination of our people. Just as your lofty minds have been superceded by power-mad militarists, so the Yeth. There were wars, suicidal wars. Atomic fission was discovered. Our resources were depleted. Our atmosphere was polluted.["]" - p 103
Yeth sirree-bob, there're definitely recurring themes in SF for at least 20 yrs post the inexcusable bombings of Hiroshima & Nagasaki. If they had to bomb, why not the Emperor's palace, eh?! Pessimism was a badly needed warning & most of us who read SF were on the same page, so to speak.… (más)
review of
Emil Petaja's The Star Mill
by tENTATIVELY, a cONVENIENCE - June 19, 2018
'Suddenly', Finland is on my mind. Not long after I read this bk I read another SF bk from Hannu Rajaniemi, a Finnish writer who lives in Edin-borough, just like I live in Pitts-borough. 2 Finnish writers in a mnth gets my attn — given that I'm not sure I've ever read anything by a Finnish writer before. The author's introductory note says:
"Like SAGA OF LOST EARTHS this science-fantasy was inspired by the little-known Finnish Epic, the KALEVALA."
Right there, I'm interested, I know nothing about Finnish epics & that strikes me as an interesting combination. SO, I lokk 'er up & choose a Wikipedia entry called "Kalevala (synopses)":
"The Kalevala is considered the national epic of Finland. It was compiled and edited by Elias Lönnrot while he was a district health officer in eastern Finland, at that time under the governance of Russia. The poem consists of 50 runos or cantos and 22,795 lines of poetry. The poem tells the story of a people, from the very beginning of the world to the introduction of Christianity." - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kalevala_(synopses)
Apparently, this really is an epic b/c even the synopses are rather long so I'm not going to quote from it enuf to give you any idea of the story after all. I will at least try to provide some Finnish-to-English translation:
""Autta!"
"The plea bubbled out of cold-locked jaws.
"Death visions tortured him again. He saw a wide black lake and a black swan swimming majestically through blue mists, singing. He saw a girl with auburn hair and green eyes that wept uncontrollably—for him. Shafts of silver light seemed to stab his retreating mind. A clap of cosmic thunder shattered the galaxy.
""Ukko!"
"Again the overwhelming vibration like thunder.
"I AM HERE.
"A crack opened in his locked mind. He glimpsed a wide snow-blanketed valley, a clutch of brown log huts, and, beyond the dark green forest path, a lake. Thunder rolled benevolently down from the high crags that completely surrounded the woodsmoke misted valley.
"I AM HERE, SON OF ILMARINEN." - p 10
An astronaut regains consciousness on an asteroid. He will die soon. He has no idea how he got there or who he is. ""Autta!"": he's screaming for help. ""Ukko!"": the god of the sky, weather, harvest and thunder in Finnish mythology. (It thundered outside as I wrote this. Really.) "Ilmarinen":
"Ilmarinen, the Eternal Hammerer, blacksmith and inventor in the Kalevala, is a god and an archetypal artificer from Finnish mythology. He is immortal and capable of creating practically anything, but is portrayed as being unlucky in love. He is described as working the known metals of the time, including brass, copper, iron, gold and silver. The great works of Ilmarinen include the crafting of the dome of the sky and the forging of the Sampo. His usual epithet in the Kalevala is seppo, a poetic word for "smith" and the source of the given name Seppo." - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ilmarinen
The astronaut doesn't know who he is. He's picked up by a passing spacecraft. They try to figure out who he is & what his connection is, if any, to a destructive force that's engulfing the universe. "["]We know that to touch even the fringe area of the Black Storm means instantaneous disintegration.["]" 9p 17) "["]I found a scrap of nameplate in the neckpiece. It was pitted and chewed up, but there was half a name you could read. Ilmar."" (p 22) Ilmar seems to be carrying the destruction like a plague: ""Joe f-fell apart. In my hands. His body came to pieces, while part of it was still alive!"" (p 23) Ilmar tries to remember who he is but can only produce recurring fragments of no meaning for him:
"that name rang out across eternity like a great resounding chord of trained thunder.
"Ukko.
"Ukko.
"It connoted thunder-power, too. Power to help him and all who knew what it meant and how to employ it. Still, mocked a second voice—a hag's cackle—this was all part and parcel of his inexhaustible agony. The torture of hope." - p 27
As it becomes obvious that he's somehow connected to the Black Storm he's quarantined in the spacecraft.
"The walls! While he had been lying there in the dark a stealthy paced horror had been at work. The metal walls were eaten away in great ragged holes; in other places were angry pits like metallic acne scars, a touch and the bleached steel would crumble away in fine powder. While he had lain there all that time, helplessly reproaching his existence, this had happened. The horror in him was relentlessly taking over the ship, as it had taken human flesh." - p 28
The captain of the spacecraft is familiar w/ Finnish legends (fancy that!) & recognizes his mysterious visitor as a manifestation of one of them:
"["]Did you ever hear of Finns, Jonah? The Finns were an ancient north country race. Supposed to be wizards. They controlled the natural elements. They had the power to change things. Terran sailors wouldn't let a Finn on board because he could sing up a storm and kill them all.["]" - p 29
That's kindof like my thing for not dating married women, divorcees, addicts, or Yuppies.
"Ilmar stared hard. Now it did seem as if the wisps of morning fog were being disturbed by unseen wings.
""Ilmar! Kuula hyvä! Alkoon oltako kuolletu! Ole tarpeellinen!""
[The translation I got online for the above is: "Ball good! Alone you were dead! Be Necessary!" wch I then make a stab at retranslating as "For the good! Help is here to save you from death! You are needed!"]
""Parempt kuelle," he said."
[Perhaps this can be translated roughly as: "It's better to let me die"]
""Ilmar, rakas! No!""
[Love!]
""Who are you?" he demanded harshly.
""Aino! Don't you know me? You've got to, Ilmar. We are here to save you!"
""We?"
""Nyyrikki and me!"
""Nyyrikki?"" - pp 38-39
This Finnish mythology might come in handy some day.
"["]our Vanhat witchcraft scrambles their fixes as fast as they make them, just as it makes our ships invisible."
[..]
""Witchcraft?"
""The Vanhat have always been experts at creating tangible illusion. This is part of our genetic heritage from Otava. That is why we have survived, aloof and hidden from the Ussi, all these centuries."
""Ussi?"
""The New Breed. All of Terra besides the Vanhat."
"Ilmar frowned in thought. "This witchcraft makes us superior to the Ussi?"
""Not superior. Different. In a way vulnerable and responsible."" - pp 42-43
Interestingly, I don't find the word "Vanhat" in an online article about Finnish mythology that begins:
"Finnish mythology is a commonly applied description of the folklore of Finnish paganism, of which a modern revival is practiced by a small percentage of the Finnish people. It has many features shared with fellow Finnic Estonian mythology and other Uralic mythologies, but also shares some similarities with neighbouring Baltic, Slavic and to a minority, Norse mythologies.
"Finnish mythology survived within an oral tradition of mythical poem-singing and folklore well into the 19th century." - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Finnish_mythology
Google Translate has it translating as "The Old" — similar, perhaps, to "Roma" meaning "The People".
I have mixed feelings about mythology that are probably too complex to get into here. When I read that "Finnish mythology survived within an oral tradition of mythical poem-singing and folklore well into the 19th century." it saddens me to think that the Industrial 'Revolution' was probably at least somewhat resposible for deteriorating an ancient sense of self-identity. Still, I, too, am a 'product' of this Age of Technology & tend to place value on the "Vanhat witchcraft" as a living force capable of counteracting the destructive tendency of technology to take ascendency by its oversimplifying goal-oriented anti-biomorphism. On Twitter, where I contribute next-to-nothing, I use the name "Psychic Weed" wch I explain as "Kindof like kudzu biomorphically breaking the autocratic veneer of the technocracy - intuitively speaking." That's my version of "Vanhat witchcraft" but I don't think anyone gets that.
"The Vanhat at the feast allowed themselves no such qualms. Young Vaino played on his kantele" ["a traditional Finnish and Karelian plucked string instrument (chordophone) belonging to the south east Baltic box zither family known as the Baltic psaltery along with Estonian kannel, Latvian kokles, Lithuanian kanklÄ—s and Russian gusli." - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kantele ] "and sang with lively passion. The laurel-hung rafters of the Greathall rang with songs, so that the bessalintut" [not found] "from Tapio's green forest came to the open-flung sills of the hall to listen in envy." - p 51
Note that I didn't find "bessalintut". I guess the internet isn't such a perfect all-knowing source after all. What about the title of the book?
"The Sampo! The Star Mill that will grind out anything one may ask of it. The wonder-machine that will snatch god-power from beyond the stars and create things out of the smallest particles of air and sea and rock. What manner of things? Anything! Anything that exists anywhere in the stars!"" - p 56
"["]To our youth who left us, we seemed primitive. Simple. Naïve. But among 'primitives' is ESP and the other 'supernormal phenomenon' always highest.["]" - p 70
That fits my theories. My favorite kind of fictional gate:
"Ilmar replaced the oval of heavy wire carefully on the pickets after creaking it shut behind him. He stared back where had come from, but it wasn't as it had been. Now it was deep green forest. He turned." - p 94
I enjoyed this, it made me interested in Finnish mythology & I'll read the KALEVALA in the unlikely event that I find a cheap copy in English. Otherwise, this is only going to get a 3 star rating because it wasn't spectacular genius or nuthin'. Just sayin'.… (más)
Emil Petaja's The Star Mill
by tENTATIVELY, a cONVENIENCE - June 19, 2018
'Suddenly', Finland is on my mind. Not long after I read this bk I read another SF bk from Hannu Rajaniemi, a Finnish writer who lives in Edin-borough, just like I live in Pitts-borough. 2 Finnish writers in a mnth gets my attn — given that I'm not sure I've ever read anything by a Finnish writer before. The author's introductory note says:
"Like SAGA OF LOST EARTHS this science-fantasy was inspired by the little-known Finnish Epic, the KALEVALA."
Right there, I'm interested, I know nothing about Finnish epics & that strikes me as an interesting combination. SO, I lokk 'er up & choose a Wikipedia entry called "Kalevala (synopses)":
"The Kalevala is considered the national epic of Finland. It was compiled and edited by Elias Lönnrot while he was a district health officer in eastern Finland, at that time under the governance of Russia. The poem consists of 50 runos or cantos and 22,795 lines of poetry. The poem tells the story of a people, from the very beginning of the world to the introduction of Christianity." - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kalevala_(synopses)
Apparently, this really is an epic b/c even the synopses are rather long so I'm not going to quote from it enuf to give you any idea of the story after all. I will at least try to provide some Finnish-to-English translation:
""Autta!"
"The plea bubbled out of cold-locked jaws.
"Death visions tortured him again. He saw a wide black lake and a black swan swimming majestically through blue mists, singing. He saw a girl with auburn hair and green eyes that wept uncontrollably—for him. Shafts of silver light seemed to stab his retreating mind. A clap of cosmic thunder shattered the galaxy.
""Ukko!"
"Again the overwhelming vibration like thunder.
"I AM HERE.
"A crack opened in his locked mind. He glimpsed a wide snow-blanketed valley, a clutch of brown log huts, and, beyond the dark green forest path, a lake. Thunder rolled benevolently down from the high crags that completely surrounded the woodsmoke misted valley.
"I AM HERE, SON OF ILMARINEN." - p 10
An astronaut regains consciousness on an asteroid. He will die soon. He has no idea how he got there or who he is. ""Autta!"": he's screaming for help. ""Ukko!"": the god of the sky, weather, harvest and thunder in Finnish mythology. (It thundered outside as I wrote this. Really.) "Ilmarinen":
"Ilmarinen, the Eternal Hammerer, blacksmith and inventor in the Kalevala, is a god and an archetypal artificer from Finnish mythology. He is immortal and capable of creating practically anything, but is portrayed as being unlucky in love. He is described as working the known metals of the time, including brass, copper, iron, gold and silver. The great works of Ilmarinen include the crafting of the dome of the sky and the forging of the Sampo. His usual epithet in the Kalevala is seppo, a poetic word for "smith" and the source of the given name Seppo." - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ilmarinen
The astronaut doesn't know who he is. He's picked up by a passing spacecraft. They try to figure out who he is & what his connection is, if any, to a destructive force that's engulfing the universe. "["]We know that to touch even the fringe area of the Black Storm means instantaneous disintegration.["]" 9p 17) "["]I found a scrap of nameplate in the neckpiece. It was pitted and chewed up, but there was half a name you could read. Ilmar."" (p 22) Ilmar seems to be carrying the destruction like a plague: ""Joe f-fell apart. In my hands. His body came to pieces, while part of it was still alive!"" (p 23) Ilmar tries to remember who he is but can only produce recurring fragments of no meaning for him:
"that name rang out across eternity like a great resounding chord of trained thunder.
"Ukko.
"Ukko.
"It connoted thunder-power, too. Power to help him and all who knew what it meant and how to employ it. Still, mocked a second voice—a hag's cackle—this was all part and parcel of his inexhaustible agony. The torture of hope." - p 27
As it becomes obvious that he's somehow connected to the Black Storm he's quarantined in the spacecraft.
"The walls! While he had been lying there in the dark a stealthy paced horror had been at work. The metal walls were eaten away in great ragged holes; in other places were angry pits like metallic acne scars, a touch and the bleached steel would crumble away in fine powder. While he had lain there all that time, helplessly reproaching his existence, this had happened. The horror in him was relentlessly taking over the ship, as it had taken human flesh." - p 28
The captain of the spacecraft is familiar w/ Finnish legends (fancy that!) & recognizes his mysterious visitor as a manifestation of one of them:
"["]Did you ever hear of Finns, Jonah? The Finns were an ancient north country race. Supposed to be wizards. They controlled the natural elements. They had the power to change things. Terran sailors wouldn't let a Finn on board because he could sing up a storm and kill them all.["]" - p 29
That's kindof like my thing for not dating married women, divorcees, addicts, or Yuppies.
"Ilmar stared hard. Now it did seem as if the wisps of morning fog were being disturbed by unseen wings.
""Ilmar! Kuula hyvä! Alkoon oltako kuolletu! Ole tarpeellinen!""
[The translation I got online for the above is: "Ball good! Alone you were dead! Be Necessary!" wch I then make a stab at retranslating as "For the good! Help is here to save you from death! You are needed!"]
""Parempt kuelle," he said."
[Perhaps this can be translated roughly as: "It's better to let me die"]
""Ilmar, rakas! No!""
[Love!]
""Who are you?" he demanded harshly.
""Aino! Don't you know me? You've got to, Ilmar. We are here to save you!"
""We?"
""Nyyrikki and me!"
""Nyyrikki?"" - pp 38-39
This Finnish mythology might come in handy some day.
"["]our Vanhat witchcraft scrambles their fixes as fast as they make them, just as it makes our ships invisible."
[..]
""Witchcraft?"
""The Vanhat have always been experts at creating tangible illusion. This is part of our genetic heritage from Otava. That is why we have survived, aloof and hidden from the Ussi, all these centuries."
""Ussi?"
""The New Breed. All of Terra besides the Vanhat."
"Ilmar frowned in thought. "This witchcraft makes us superior to the Ussi?"
""Not superior. Different. In a way vulnerable and responsible."" - pp 42-43
Interestingly, I don't find the word "Vanhat" in an online article about Finnish mythology that begins:
"Finnish mythology is a commonly applied description of the folklore of Finnish paganism, of which a modern revival is practiced by a small percentage of the Finnish people. It has many features shared with fellow Finnic Estonian mythology and other Uralic mythologies, but also shares some similarities with neighbouring Baltic, Slavic and to a minority, Norse mythologies.
"Finnish mythology survived within an oral tradition of mythical poem-singing and folklore well into the 19th century." - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Finnish_mythology
Google Translate has it translating as "The Old" — similar, perhaps, to "Roma" meaning "The People".
I have mixed feelings about mythology that are probably too complex to get into here. When I read that "Finnish mythology survived within an oral tradition of mythical poem-singing and folklore well into the 19th century." it saddens me to think that the Industrial 'Revolution' was probably at least somewhat resposible for deteriorating an ancient sense of self-identity. Still, I, too, am a 'product' of this Age of Technology & tend to place value on the "Vanhat witchcraft" as a living force capable of counteracting the destructive tendency of technology to take ascendency by its oversimplifying goal-oriented anti-biomorphism. On Twitter, where I contribute next-to-nothing, I use the name "Psychic Weed" wch I explain as "Kindof like kudzu biomorphically breaking the autocratic veneer of the technocracy - intuitively speaking." That's my version of "Vanhat witchcraft" but I don't think anyone gets that.
"The Vanhat at the feast allowed themselves no such qualms. Young Vaino played on his kantele" ["a traditional Finnish and Karelian plucked string instrument (chordophone) belonging to the south east Baltic box zither family known as the Baltic psaltery along with Estonian kannel, Latvian kokles, Lithuanian kanklÄ—s and Russian gusli." - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kantele ] "and sang with lively passion. The laurel-hung rafters of the Greathall rang with songs, so that the bessalintut" [not found] "from Tapio's green forest came to the open-flung sills of the hall to listen in envy." - p 51
Note that I didn't find "bessalintut". I guess the internet isn't such a perfect all-knowing source after all. What about the title of the book?
"The Sampo! The Star Mill that will grind out anything one may ask of it. The wonder-machine that will snatch god-power from beyond the stars and create things out of the smallest particles of air and sea and rock. What manner of things? Anything! Anything that exists anywhere in the stars!"" - p 56
"["]To our youth who left us, we seemed primitive. Simple. Naïve. But among 'primitives' is ESP and the other 'supernormal phenomenon' always highest.["]" - p 70
That fits my theories. My favorite kind of fictional gate:
"Ilmar replaced the oval of heavy wire carefully on the pickets after creaking it shut behind him. He stared back where had come from, but it wasn't as it had been. Now it was deep green forest. He turned." - p 94
I enjoyed this, it made me interested in Finnish mythology & I'll read the KALEVALA in the unlikely event that I find a cheap copy in English. Otherwise, this is only going to get a 3 star rating because it wasn't spectacular genius or nuthin'. Just sayin'.… (más)
ACE Double.
"Caves of Mars" by Emil Petaja. Pretty good 1960s novella by an American author who had many stories in the SF pulp magazines. He wrote a dozen SF books in the 1960s with moderate success.
"Space Mercenaries" by A. Bertram Chandler. Average 1960s novella by this English/Australian author. I usually like his tongue SF adventures but this one was dull. He had short stories in over 20 American SF pulp titles in the 1950s. He also wrote at least 50 SF novels.
"Caves of Mars" by Emil Petaja. Pretty good 1960s novella by an American author who had many stories in the SF pulp magazines. He wrote a dozen SF books in the 1960s with moderate success.
"Space Mercenaries" by A. Bertram Chandler. Average 1960s novella by this English/Australian author. I usually like his tongue SF adventures but this one was dull. He had short stories in over 20 American SF pulp titles in the 1950s. He also wrote at least 50 SF novels.
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