DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Rosebud, v. 1, issue 4, April 1945

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Rosebud, v. 1, issue 4, April 1945

Page 6

TWO BORDERLINE FANTASIES
reviewed by 
Francis T. Laney

("The Threshold of Fear" by Arthur J. Rees; 283pp, 8vo, New York City: Dodd, Mead & Co., 1926. B/58/77/1)

This volume treats of the psychological plot against a young English recluse, Edward Gravenall. He has undergone some harrowing experiences during an exploratory trip in the wilds of Peru; including twelve days at the bottom of a lake, dead, after which time he was brought back to life by Munyeru, the ancient priest of a lost tribe of natives. Under the terms of his being brought back to life, he must leave the entire land of Incas, veiled, so that Nogul (death) cannot see him. Nogul, Edward is told, will continue to seek him, but his coming will be known by the beating of his small drum and by the sign of the Withered Grey Paw.

This is all the fantasy in the book; most of the story being taken up with the phenomena being faked by Gravenall's doctor as a cold-blooded experiment in suggestion. The four chapters in which Gravenell tells of his Peruvian experiences -- "The Secret of the Ranges," "The Valley of Ghosts," "The Lake of Flamingoes," and "The Dwelling Place of Death" -- comprise a story within a story and might well be considered as a short fantasy. I personally thought those four chapters on a par with Merritt, whose style is closely approximated by Rees thruout.

However, there is so much straight adventure and mundane plotting and counter-plotting thru-out, that I can list it only as a borderline item. It can be fairly strongly recommended.

("Flame Eternal" by Willis E. Roys; 403pp, 8vo, New York City : F.C. Osberg, 1936. F/77/I)

"Flame Eternal," I regret to say, is definitely fantasy; further more it is probably the worst fantasy ever to have appeared between the covers of a book. I should be interested in learning how much Mr. Roys paid Osberg to publish this conglomeration of rubbish. I doubt if any of the stories I have rejected for The Acolyte were anywhere near as bad as this one -- and I've been annoyed with effusions from some of the brightest-eyed thirteen-year-olds you ever heard of.

The plot deals creaking with a lost civilization in the wilds of Brazil; consisting largely of native tribes, and ruled over by albino whites of Portuguese extraction. There is some mystic flame of life which is supposed to grant eternal life; there are motley quasi-religious trappings filched from every theology Roys ever heard of; there are revoltingly corny characters.

The whole thing is presented in the most loathsome fashion imaginable. It would take pages to enumerate the hundreds of faults of Roys' "style"; the most annoying is his platitudinous method of saying something thoroly obvious, and then clinching it with a sententiously bald sentence explaining it still further. Now that I've offered myself as a martyr, no other fan will have to read the damn thing!

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TWO BORDERLINE FANTASIES reviewed by Francis T. Laney ("The Threshold of Fear" by Arthur J. Rees; 283pp, 8vo, New York City: Dodd, Mead & Co., 1926. B/58/77/1) This volume treats of the psychological plot against a young English recluse, Edward Gravenall. He has undergone some harrowing experiences during an exploratory trip in the wilds of Peru; including twelve days at the bottom of a lake, dead, after which time he was brought back to life by Munyeru, the ancient priest of a lost tribe of natives. Under the terms of his being brought back to life, he must leave the entire land of Incas, veiled, so that Nogul (death) cannot see him. Nogul, Edward is told, will continue to seek him, but his coming will be known by the beating of his small drum and by the sign of the Withered Grey Paw. This is all the fantasy in the book; most of the story being taken up with the phenomena being faked by Gravenall's doctor as a cold-blooded experiment in suggestion. The four chapters in which Gravenell tells of his Peruvian experiences -- "The Secret of the Ranges," "The Valley of Ghosts," "The Lake of Flamingoes," and "The Dwelling Place of Death" -- comprise a story within a story and might well be considered as a short fantasy. I personally thought those four chapters on a par with Merritt, whose style is closely approximated by Rees thruout. However, there is so much straight adventure and mundane plotting and counter-plotting thru-out, that I can list it only as a borderline item. It can be fairly strongly recommended. ("Flame Eternal" by Willis E. Roys; 403pp, 8vo, New York City : F.C. Osberg, 1936. F/77/I) "Flame Eternal," I regret to say, is definitely fantasy; further more it is probably the worst fantasy ever to have appeared between the covers of a book. I should be interested in learning how much Mr. Roys paid Osberg to publish this conglomeration of rubbish. I doubt if any of the stories I have rejected for The Acolyte were anywhere near as bad as this one -- and I've been annoyed with effusions from some of the brightest-eyed thirteen-year-olds you ever heard of. The plot deals creaking with a lost civilization in the wilds of Brazil; consisting largely of native tribes, and ruled over by albino whites of Portuguese extraction. There is some mystic flame of life which is supposed to grant eternal life; there are motley quasi-religious trappings filched from every theology Roys ever heard of; there are revoltingly corny characters. The whole thing is presented in the most loathsome fashion imaginable. It would take pages to enumerate the hundreds of faults of Roys' "style"; the most annoying is his platitudinous method of saying something thoroly obvious, and then clinching it with a sententiously bald sentence explaining it still further. Now that I've offered myself as a martyr, no other fan will have to read the damn thing!