Saturday, May 2, 2015
Slipstream, starring Mark Hamill --- New Star Wars Jedi Master
- In the future, natural disasters (Earthquakes, Floods) have ravaged the Earth, leaving the Earth as a world where pockets of communities live within canyons whilst a violent wind known as "The Slipsteam" rules the Earth and the only means of transport are airplanes. Matt Owens is a daredevil adventurer who kidnaps Byron, a fugitive wanted for murder, who is the prisoner of law officer Will Tasker so he can claim the bounty for himself. Travelling across the wind swept landscape, Matt and Byron are pursued by Will and his partner Belitski, Matt finds Byron isn't what he appears to be and learns Byron is android who murdered his creator and they form a friendship as they travel from community to community and encounter pockets of strange societies that lives beyond the slipstream.- Written by Daniel Williamson
Henry and the Odd Guy A Chance Story By John Pirillo
Henry and the Odd Guy
A Chance Story
By John Pirillo
My name is Chance. Mom was drunk. Dad had abandoned us. She
wasn't a happy puppy. So she flipped open a dictionary with her eyes closed and
stabbed the first word her finger came to and named me Chance. Lucky break?
Maybe.
Mom died several months later. Her liver had given out from
excessive drinking and maybe why Dad had abandoned us. Maybe. But I suspect
that it was more likely that he was a drinker too and just one day woke up and
forgot about us, his life and his purpose. Being a Dad.
Several months in a home with strange people trying to be
nice to me, pretending they knew how hard I'd had it. Hey! For a five year old, being nice isn't
all that hard, but being sincere reads all the way through. I could read them
like books, even if they were only picture books at the time. They were doing
it for the money. They always had my best interests at heart when the social
worker came to visit, but when they left, I was on my own. Both of them drank
too.
Do you like my sob story so far? Well don't. It gets worse.
A long lost relative from India came to claim me, saying
they would make everything right in my world again, that Krishna, whom they
worshipped, had come in their sleep and demanded that they take care of me.
So off to India for fifteen years.
I learned a lot.
A real lot.
Women were treated like second class citizens, and they
better not ever, ever speak up in public.
So I did.
I got beat a lot because of that. By my teachers, my
parents, my relatives. Well, pretty much anyone I had learned how to offend. I
was never one to go by the rules. Maybe that's another reason why my real Dad
had left. He had seen the writing on the wall. I don't know. I don't think
about that so much anymore these days. I'm too busy trying to save the sorry
asses of people who don't even deserve it sometimes.
Yeah. My name's Chance. And I'm lucky. Lucky for everyone
but me.
Rishikesh is one of the furthest places from civilization
and its there that all my rebelliousness and anger finally came to a head and
found some kind of sanity at the same time. I lived on an ashram with my
adoptive parents. I won't tell you their names, because it doesn't really
matter in the scheme of things. They were a means to an end. They brought me from
insanity to craziness. But I survived it and became a better human being for
it.
I was strolling the banks of the Ganges one bright April. It
was still very cold. We did live very high up. Rishikesh is in the Himalayas,
about seven to eight thousand feet above sea level. It has extreme cold and
very hot summers with heat and humidity so high you think you're going to pop
from it.
I didn't. I got tough, then tougher.
I met him...the Odd Guy...on one of my excursions. Single
women were supposed to never go anywhere without an escort, so naturally I did.
My parents would bawl me out when I got home, give me extra work to do around
the house, sometimes even beat me, but I ignored it. I had my mind up. If fate
was going to deal me a bad hand, I was going to learn...somehow...somehow...how
to make it a good hand.
He was seated at the edge of the Ganges below the hanging
suspension bridge. A scary wooden bridge that rocks up and down, sideways and
back when you cross it. Some have even been known to fall of it and drown. I
don't know if that's true. But it's possible.
Anyway, I was doing my usual rebellious sojourn when I
spotted this Odd Guy. Not his real name, but close enough. He had his legs in
the freezing waters and was playing a flute. Seated on his shoulder was a
parrot. A pure white one. It had a huge comb of white feathers over its nose
and eyes, and looked kind of like Elvis might have had he been a bird.
I came to a stop and watched the man play his flute. The
music was very odd and unusual. Not typical Indian at all. Not even American,
which was very popular at that time. My right foot began to tap to the rhythm
of the music, then my left and soon I found myself swaying and dancing to it,
not even knowing why. I don't dance to anything. At least I didn't then.
"You dance well." He said to me in a very thick
Hindi accent.
"Thanks." I said and pulled up a rock next to him,
ignoring the glares of passing citizens, carrying food items from the village
on our side.
He set down his flute and plucked a cookie from a bright red
pouch affixed to his belt on his left side, then offered it to the parrot.
The parrot rolled its eyes thoughtfully a moment, then
reached out a large clawed foot and gently took the cookie away. It rolled it
around carefully in its grasp, and then began to nibble on it.
"Hello!" It finally said with great satisfaction.
I laughed.
The parrot lowered the cookie and eyed me thoughtfully, then
said. "Pretty boy!"
I laughed again. "I'm not a boy!" I protested.
"Pretty, pretty boy." It said the next time.
I finally could laugh no more. My sides were aching from the
pain of it. I slapped some water on my face, and then felt something tiptoe
onto my left shoulder and begin to nibble on my ear. "Pretty Boy!" It
whispered.
I reached a hand over cautiously, cupped with cold Ganges
water. It leaned its head down and licked the water with its tongue, as if
testing it for flavor, then it dipped its head and whipped a slurp of it into
its beak and drank. I watched it repeat this several times, then it stopped and
wriggled closer to my ear and stayed there, saying nothing.
The Odd Guy, whom for some reason, I'd totally forgotten I
was seated next to rose to his feet. "It seems my friend has found a new
friend to be with."
I gave him an apologetic look. "Look, he's not my bird.
You..."
He gestured with his flute to me. "Chance. The gods
smile on you. No man or woman has ever been allowed this close to Henry
before."
"Henry?"
The parrot on my shoulder woke up from its quiet and barked.
"Henry! Pretty Boy!"
It then began to cackle in a weird sort of bird laughter.
I stroked its head gently, then rose carefully so as not to
startle it.
"Don't worry. It won't fly away." The Odd Guy
explained to me. "Once it makes a friend, it never leaves."
"It left you." I pointed out.
He smiled. "But I was never here."
"Chance!" A voice hollered at me.
I turned to look and my Indian Mom was hurrying over to me.
"Mom!" I said. "You've got to meet the man
who gave me Henry."
"What are you talking about, you stubborn girl?"
She ranted, exasperated at me. "There's no man near you."
I turned to look and he was no longer there.
That night I sat in my small, but comfortable room, a
blanket about my knees, watching Henry preen himself on my only chair. He had
made it his home. Mother had insisted I spread paper about the seat and floor
to catch its droppings. I had done so, but even so, the droppings were always
in the same spot, no matter where the bird dropped them from. Strange. Right?
It finished and looked up at me, while raising its right
foot. "Hello!" It greeted.
"You naughty bird!" I told it. "You're not
supposed to look at a girl without her clothes on.
In reply it said. "Pretty Boy!"
I laughed and it flew to my shoulder and began chewing on my
hair. I laughed. It hurt, but what the heck, a friend's a friend.
And that's how the dreariness of my life began to change for
the better.
As Henry chewed on my hair I began to thank again about next
year. Next year my parents were returning to America. They said they were going
to send me to a nice school to study. I told them I wanted to be a musician.
They told me I wanted to be a Doctor. I told them I loved art. They told me I
would be a great lawyer. I told them I wanted to write science fiction stories.
They told me I would make a wonderful accountant.
I went to bed that night with my window open. The wind was
blowing very hard. It always blew hard. We were high up in the Himalayas and it
was always something strong. I became drowsy. Henry chose to perch on my
headboard, but even though he did, I didn't complain. Somehow his droppings
always ended up in the same pile. Small miracle? I don't know. You tell me.
An Interview with Sherlock Holmes, Harry Houdini and Doctor John Watson. Part Two
An Interview with Sherlock Holmes, Harry Houdini and
Doctor John Watson. Part Two
As I explained yesterday, I have decided to put the
interview into a different format, as the other one seemed a bit confusing,
even to me, and as the purpose of this site is to continue the excitment of the
Baker Street Universe, it's important to me that we not lose the vigor and
vitality of the heroes of that universe.
So today I present Part Two again, but expanded and
hopefully a lot easier and fun to read.
Our interview was interrupted by my cell phone running too
low on power. Now I have repowered it and can continue with transcribing the
text of my very lively conversation with three of the world's greatest men:
Sherlock Holmes, Doctor John Watson and Harry Houdini.
Author and Biographer,
John Pirillo
=================================================================================
March 10th, 2010
3am
A location I am not at liberty to divulge
"Now that I've recharged my phone, I'd like to continue
where we left off."
"Please do proceed." Sherlock replies. "Oh,
and I'd like one of those chargers as well. I'm sure TEsla and Edison would
have fun playing with both devices."
"I'm sure they would." I replied. "So you
were going to mention Einstein.
"And Edison. Don't forget Edison. He and Tesla are very
good friends and Einstein works with both of them as a consultant and friend.
He's been very helpful to many of the inventions we've released to the public
in London, as well as in helping us solve some very peculiar and sometimes
quite dangerous circumstances." Watson pointed out.
"I agree." Harry added. "I remember the time
he saved my ass when I got caught in a time swirl created by the despicable
Hyde."
"Remarkable." I commented. "On our world he's
been gone for many, many years. I'm sure had he lived longer much would have
been different here."
"Seems so anyway." Sherlock said cynically.
"Though a bit askew what our Einstein would prefer or h ave wanted to be
part of. I still don't understand you people are so fascinated with killing
each other. So many guns. In our England guns are only the property of the
Constables, and they only use them as a last resort."
"That's even more remarkable." I said
enthusiastically. "There are many citizens here who protest the use of
guns, but a very well monied lobby of individuals have kept government from
preventing the negligent use of guns."
Watson snorted. "More than likely paid off by those
indviduals, I should think."
"Watson! That's rather mean of you!"
Watson blushed. "It's true, isn't it." He said,
looking at my face.
I couldn't lie to him. "I wish it were not. The America
of this world has lost a lot of its freedom to the wealthy."
"It was once so in our Victorian England." Harry
admited, but since the rule of Queen Mary of Scots, God bless her soul, the
rich have become less ostentatious..."
"And more likely to share their abundance with the
lesser endowed." Sherlock added.
"That's great!" I said. "But how does one
person manage what so many cannot?"
"She is honest."
I sat there in a stunned silence for a time, for on our
world, honesty seems to be for sale so much of the time.
"Well, no matter." I finally said, after a long
pause. "Shall we continue?"
"Indeed." Watson agreed. "Einstein believes,
based on calculations he made, and with which Edison and eventually Tesla as well
helped in fleshing out, that our world...dimension if you will...not your
world, of course.
"Of course."
"That our worlds overlap each other. "
At that point he took out three bracelets that he kept in
his bag for certain occasions, which I will explain at a later date.
"It's like this." He explained.
He laid down first one bracelet, shaped it into a rough
circle, then proceeded to overlap two more bracelets, like you shall see in the
illustration I have provided below. I would have included the photo I took, but
didn't feel it made much of a difference in the presentation of the idea. If
any of you are later on interested in seeing the original photo, I shall be
most happy to provide such.
Doctor Watson finished the design and then said, "Let's
assume the middle circle is our Victorian England, London, where Mary Queen of
Scots rules. Now the upper circle is your own world and dimension. The lower
one is another one, which is, as yet unexplored and unnamed, but for clarity's
sake, we will call Earth three...ours being one, yours being two.
I frowned. "That concept is quite old in our
literature, but I hardly ever thought it a reality, let alone a possibility,
though some of our scientists like Stephen Hawking believe in multiple
dimensions...I'm just not certain their concept inlcludes alternate realities
and duplicates of ourselves."
I touched the upper bracelet and looked at Watson. "How
do we know that your world is the one in the middle?
Sherlock laughed. "My dear, Mister Pirillo, poor Watson
here is already far out of his own intellectual boundaries, do not confuse him
further with such details."
Watson scowled at Sherlock. "I'll have you know that I
spent an entire week with her majesty, Tesla and Einstein going over these
principles."
Sherlock frowned. "You never told me about that?"
Vexing. "You'd be suprised how much I have never told
you."
Surprised at the complexity of their relationship, which I
was then seeing was quite a bit more vigorous than portrayed in literature, by
me or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, I proceeded to intervene as a good host should.
"I'm sure the both of you will have more than enough
time to iron all of this out. What with all the adventures you administer, and
the services to the public, I don't see how the two of you have any time
whatsover to communicate at all sometimes."
Watson nodded. "True. By Jove, sometimes I feel like a
top spinning on the pavement, twirled this way and that."
Sherlock nodded. "It can be a it much at times."
Harry grinned, and took another scone to eat. "These
are really good. How are they made?"
"Organic ingredients."
He frowned. "What's organice?"
"Food without toxic chemicals."
He almost choked on his bite. "You serve toxic food to
each other here?"
I didn't reply. I didn't have to. The look in my eyes told
him everything.
He took his hat off and set it beside him. "You have my sincere apologies. I didn't
realize your people were so afflicted."
Wanting to divert back to the interview again, I proceeded.
"
"Very kind of you to say. But please, go on, you were
saying...?"
Sherlock steeples his fingers together in a classic pose,
squints at them a moment, then gazes into my face with that hawk like gaze.
"Mind if I continue, Watson?"
"Not at all, Holmes. Please do. While you do so, I
shall take advantage of these wonderful scones
to help them from going stale."
 |
| Harry Houdini |
I smiled the same time as Sherlock, who then said. "For
all intents and purposes each world is number one to its inhabitants, and so to
arbitrarily call one the First would be a great injustice to those peoples who
inhabit the worlds."
"Jolly well spoken, Holmes."
Watson wiped his mouth with one of the napkins I had
provided, took a large gulp of his coffee, then leaned forward and tapped the
overlapping bracelets. "So..."
I gave him a smile and nodded for him to proceed. Sherlock,
meanwhile, took out a small notebook and began scribblng furiously in it.
Something which I am not now allowed to
divulge, but shall certainly do so once they have lifted their restrictions
upon what I can or can not reveal to my dear audience.
"So, John...as you can see from the diagram, one can
easily slip from one worldly dimension to the next as there are numerous points
of contact, much like Fairie overlaps our own world, and once did yours as well until Merlin separated the realms.
"You knew Merlin?"
Harry grinned like a Cheshire Cat. "Not knew. Know. He
is quite alive and well, thank you. Besides, who do you think taught me all I
know...or a lot of it?
Both Holmes and Watson laugh at that attempt at humility,
which has failed miserably.
"Then am I to understand that I can go to your world as
well as you to mine?
Sherlock nodded. "Without a doubt."
Watson crossed his arms then and gave Sherlock's words a
minute of thought, then said, "Though I would rather think you might want
to go when you have trustworthy companions as there's no exact science in your
world yet to make sure you land in a perfectly safe environment. Our world and
many of the others have very hostile spots on them, wherein you might have your
life stricken from you in a moment."
I shivered in terror for a moment at that thought, for I
have a very large imagination and I could imagine all kinds of horrors that
might take my life.
"Really, Mister
Pirillo, you mustn't let your imagination take over your common sense. In our
many cases we find more have died from an overactive imagination than from
actual physical contact with a mortal danger from our world or another.
"Indeed." Sherlock agreed.
"Although the occasional zombie or dragon has been the
death of a few citizens now and then. " Harry added.
Everyone laughed.
At this point I will end my interview with Sherlock
Holmes, Doctor Watson and Harry Houdini.
If time allows, which hopefully it will, I will return later
this day with Part Three of the Interview with Sherlock Holmes, Doctor John
Watson and Harry Houdini. Until then I trust everyone has gained a profound
sense of trust for these three men as I have. For I have known none finer,
smarter, nor more truly dedicated to serving humanity.
Sincerely,
John Pirillo,
The Interviewer and Author
A Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain, an audio book, Part Two
From Wikipedia
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court is an 1889 novel by American humorist and writer Mark Twain. The book was originally titled A Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Some early editions are titled A Yankee at the Court of King Arthur.
In the book, a Yankee engineer from Connecticut is accidentally transported back in time to the court of King Arthur, where he fools the inhabitants of that time into thinking he is a magician—and soon uses his knowledge of modern technology to become a "magician" in earnest, stunning the English of the Early Middle Ages with such feats as demolitions, fireworks and the shoring up of a holy well. He attempts to modernize the past, but in the end he is unable to prevent the death of Arthur and an interdict against him by the Catholic Church of the time, which grows fearful of his power.
Twain wrote the book as a burlesque of Romantic notions of chivalry after being inspired by a dream in which he was a knight himself, and severely inconvenienced by the weight and cumbersome nature of his armor.
Contents
Plot
The novel is a comedy that sees 6th-Century England and its medieval culture through Hank Morgan's view; he is a 19th-century resident of Hartford, Connecticut, who, after a blow to the head, awakens to find himself inexplicably transported back in time to early medieval England where he meets King Arthur himself. The fictional Mr. Morgan, who had an image of that time that had been colored over the years by romantic myths, takes on the task of analyzing the problems and sharing his knowledge from 1300 years in the future to modernize, Americanize, and improve the lives of the people.In addition, many passages are quoted directly from Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, a medieval Arthurian collection of legends and one of the earlier sources. The narrator who finds the Yankee in the "modern times" of Twain's nineteenth century is reading the book in the museum in which they both meet; later, characters in the story retell parts of it in Malory's original language. A chapter on medieval hermits also draws from the work of William Edward Hartpole Lecky.
Introduction to the "stranger"
"Bridgeport?" said I, pointing. "Camelot," said he.
After a brief tale of Sir Lancelot of Camelot and his role in slaying two giants from the third-person narrative, the man named Hank Morgan enters and, after being given whiskey by the narrator, he is persuaded to reveal more of his story. Described through first-person narrative as a man familiar with the firearms and machinery trade, Hank is a man who had reached the level of superintendent due to his proficiency in firearms manufacturing, with two thousand subordinates. He describes the beginning of his tale by illustrating details of a disagreement with his subordinates, during which he sustained a head injury from a "crusher" to the head caused by a man named "Hercules" using a crowbar.[3] After passing out from the blow, Hank describes waking up underneath an oak tree in a rural area of Camelot, where he soon encounters the knight Sir Kay, riding by. Kay challenges him to a joust, which is quickly lost by the unweaponed, unarmored Hank as he scuttles up a tree. Kay captures Hank and leads him towards Camelot castle.[4] Upon recognizing that he has time-traveled to the sixth century, Hank realizes that he is the de facto smartest person on Earth, and with his knowledge he should soon be running things.
Hank is ridiculed at King Arthur's court for his strange appearance and dress and is sentenced by King Arthur's court (particularly the magician Merlin) to burn at the stake on 21 June. By a stroke of luck, the date of the burning coincides with a historical solar eclipse in the year 528, of which Hank had learned in his earlier life. (In reality, the solar eclipses nearest in time to 21 June, both partial, both in the Southern Hemisphere at maximum, in 528 occurred on 6 March and 1 August.[5]) While in prison, he sends the boy he christens Clarence (whose real name is Amyas le Poulet) to inform the King that he will blot out the sun if he is executed. Hank believes the current date to be 20 June; however, it is actually the 21st when he makes his threat, the day that the eclipse will occur at 12:03 p.m. When the King decides to burn him, the eclipse catches Hank by surprise. But he quickly uses it to his advantage and convinces the people that he caused the eclipse. He makes a bargain with the King, is released, and becomes the second most powerful person in the kingdom.
Hank is given the position of principal minister to the King and is treated by all with the utmost fear and awe. His celebrity brings him to be known by a new title, elected by the people — "The Boss". However, he proclaims that his only income will be taken as a percentage of any increase in the kingdom's gross national product that he succeeds in creating for the state as Arthur's chief minister, which King Arthur sees as fair. Although the people fear him and he has his new title, Hank is still seen as somewhat of an equal. The people might grovel to him if he were a knight or some form of nobility, but without that, Hank faces problems from time to time, as he refuses to seek to join such ranks.
The Takeover
After being made "the Boss", Hank learns about medieval practices and superstitions. Having superior knowledge, he is able to outdo the alleged sorcerers and miracle-working church officials. At one point, soon after the eclipse, people began gathering, hoping to see Hank perform another miracle. Merlin, jealous of Hank having replaced him both as the king's principal adviser and as the most powerful sorcerer of the realm, begins spreading rumors that Hank is a fake and cannot supply another miracle. Hank secretly manufactures gunpowder and a lightning rod, plants explosive charges in Merlin's tower, then places the lightning rod at the top and runs a wire to the explosive charges. He then announces (during a period when storms are frequent) that he will soon call down fire from heaven and destroy Merlin's tower, then challenges Merlin to use his sorcery to prevent it. Of course, Merlin's "incantations" fail utterly to prevent lightning striking the rod, triggering the explosive charges and leveling the tower, further diminishing Merlin's reputation.Hank Morgan, in his position as King's Minister, uses his authority and his modern knowledge to industrialize the country behind the back of the rest of the ruling class. His assistant is Clarence, a young boy he meets at court, whom he educates and gradually lets in on most of his secrets, and eventually comes to rely on heavily. Hank sets up secret schools, which teach modern ideas and modern English, thereby removing the new generation from medieval concepts, and secretly constructs hidden factories, which produce modern tools and weapons. He carefully selects the individuals he allows to enter his factories and schools, seeking to select only the most promising and least indoctrinated in medieval ideas, favoring selection of the young and malleable whenever possible.
As Hank gradually adjusts to his new situation, he begins to attend medieval tournaments. A misunderstanding causes Sir Sagramore to challenge Hank to a duel to the death; the combat will take place when Sagramore returns from his quest for the Holy Grail. Hank accepts, and spends the next few years building up 19th-century infrastructure behind the nobility's back. At this point, he undertakes an adventure with a wandering girl named the Demoiselle Alisande a la Carteloise—nicknamed "Sandy" by Hank in short order—to save her royal "mistresses" being held captive by ogres. On the way, Hank struggles with the inconveniences of plate armor (actually an anachronism, which would not be developed until the High Middle Ages or see widespread use until the Late Middle Ages), and also encounters Morgan le Fay. The "princesses", "ogres", and "castles" are all revealed to be actually pigs owned by peasant swineherds, although to Sandy they still appear as royalty. Hank buys the pigs from the peasants and the two leave.
On the way back to Camelot, they find a travelling group of pilgrims headed for the Valley of Holiness. Another group of pilgrims, however, comes from that direction bearing the news that the valley's famous fountain has run dry. According to legend, long ago the fountain had gone dry before as soon as the monks of the valley's monastery built a bath with it; the bath was destroyed and the water instantly returned, but this time it has stopped with no clear cause. Hank is begged to restore the fountain, although Merlin is already trying. When Merlin fails, he claims that the fountain has been corrupted by a demon, and that it will never flow again. Hank, in order to look good, agrees that a demon has corrupted the fountain but also claims to be able to banish it; in reality, the "fountain" is simply leaking. He procures assistants from Camelot trained by himself, who bring along a pump and fireworks for special effects. They repair the fountain and Hank begins the "banishment" of the demon. At the end of several long German language phrases, he says "BGWJJILLIGKKK", which is simply a load of gibberish, but Merlin agrees with Hank that this is the name of the demon. The fountain restored, Hank goes on to debunk another magician who claims to be able to tell what any person in the world is doing, including King Arthur. However, Hank knows that the King is riding out to see the restored fountain, and not "resting from the chase" as the "false prophet" had foretold to the people. Hank correctly states that the King will arrive in the valley.
Hank has an idea to travel amongst the poor disguised as a peasant to find out how they truly live. King Arthur joins him, but has extreme difficulty in acting like a peasant convincingly. Although Arthur is somewhat disillusioned about the national standard of life after hearing the story of a mother infected with smallpox, he still ends up getting Hank and himself hunted down by the members of a village after making several extremely erroneous remarks about agriculture. Although they are saved by a nobleman's entourage, the same nobleman later arrests them and sells them into slavery.
Hank steals a piece of metal in London and uses it to create a makeshift lockpick. His plan is to free himself, the king, beat up their slave driver, and return to Camelot. However, before he can free the king, a man enters their quarters in the dark. Mistaking him for the slave driver, Hank rushes after him alone and starts a fight with him. They are both arrested. Although Hank lies his way out, in his absence the real slave driver has discovered Hank's escape. Since Hank was the most valuable slave — he was due to be sold the next day — the man becomes enraged and begins beating his other slaves, who fight back and kill him. All the slaves, including the king, will be hanged as soon as the missing one — Hank — is found. Hank is captured, but he and Arthur are rescued by a party of knights led by Lancelot, riding bicycles. Following this, the king becomes extremely bitter against slavery and vows to abolish it when they get free, much to Hank's delight.
Sagramore returns from his quest, and fights Hank. Hank defeats him and seven others, including Galahad and Lancelot, using a lasso. When Merlin steals Hank's lasso, Sagramore returns to challenge him again. This time, Hank kills him with a revolver. He proceeds to challenge the knights of England to attack him en masse, which they do. After he kills nine more knights with his revolvers, the rest break and flee. The next day, Hank reveals his 19th century infrastructure to the country. With this fact he was called a wizard as he told Clarence to do so as well.
The Interdict
Three years later, Hank has married Sandy and they have a baby. While asleep and dreaming, Hank says, "Hello-Central" — a reference to calling a 19th-century telephone operator — and Sandy believes that the mystic phrase a good name for the baby, and names it accordingly. However, the baby falls critically ill and Hank's doctors advise him to take his family overseas while the baby recovers. In reality, it is a ploy by the Catholic Church to get Hank out of the country, leaving the country without effective leadership. During the weeks that Hank is absent, Arthur discovers Guinevere's infidelity with Lancelot. This causes a war between Lancelot and Arthur, who is eventually killed by Sir Mordred.The church then publishes "The Interdict" which causes all people to break away from Hank and revolt. Hank meets with his good friend Clarence who informs him of the war thus far. As time goes on, Clarence gathers 52 young cadets, from ages 14 to 17, who are to fight against all of England. Hank's band fortifies itself in Merlin's Cave with a minefield, electric wire and Gatling guns. The Catholic Church sends an army of 30,000 knights to attack them, but the knights are slaughtered by the cadets wielding Hank's modern weaponry.
However, Hank's men are now trapped in the cave by a wall of dead bodies. Hank attempts to go offer aid to any wounded, but is stabbed by the first wounded man he tries to help, Sir Meliagraunce. He is not seriously injured, but is bedridden. Disease begins to set in amongst them. One night, Clarence finds Merlin weaving a spell over Hank, proclaiming that he shall sleep for 1,300 years. Merlin begins laughing deliriously, but ends up electrocuting himself on one of the electric wires. Clarence and the others all apparently die from disease in the cave.
More than a millennium later, the narrator finishes the manuscript and finds Hank on his deathbed having a dream about Sandy. He attempts to make one last "effect", but dies before he can finish it.
Publication history and response
First English edition, 1889
Analysis
While the book pokes fun at contemporary society, the main thrust is a satire of romanticized ideas of chivalry, and of the idealization of the Middle Ages common in the novels of Sir Walter Scott and other 19th century literature. Twain had a particular dislike for Scott, blaming his kind of romanticism of battle for the southern states deciding to fight the American Civil War. He writes in Life on the Mississippi:It was Sir Walter that made every gentleman in the South a Major or a Colonel, or a General or a Judge, before the war; and it was he, also, that made these gentlemen value these bogus decorations. For it was he that created rank and caste down there, and also reverence for rank and caste, and pride and pleasure in them. [...] Sir Walter had so large a hand in making Southern character, as it existed before the war, that he is in great measure responsible for the war.For example, the book portrays the medieval people as being very gullible, as when Merlin makes a "veil of invisibility", which according to him will make the wearer imperceptible to his enemies, though friends can still see him. The knight Sir Sagramor wears it to fight Hank, who pretends he cannot see Sagramor for effect to the audience.
—Mark Twain, Life on the Mississippi.[9]
Hank Morgan's opinions are also strongly denunciatory towards the Catholic Church of the medieval period; the Church is seen by the Yankee as an oppressive institution that stifles science and teaches meekness to peasants only as a means of preventing the overthrow of Church rule and taxation. The book also contains many depictions and condemnations of the dangers of superstition and the horrors of medieval slavery.
It is possible to see the book as an important transitional work for Twain, in that earlier, sunnier passages recall the frontier humor of his tall tales like The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County, while the corrosive view of human behavior in the apocalyptic latter chapters is more akin to darker, later Twain works like The Mysterious Stranger and Letters from the Earth.
George Hardy notes that "(...) The final scenes of 'Connecticut Yankee' depict a mass force attempting to storm a position defended by wire and machine guns - and getting massacred, none reaching their objective. Deduct the fantasy anachronism of the assailants being Medieval knights, and you get a chillingly accurate prediction of a typical First World War battle. (...) The modern soldiers of 1914 with their bayonets had no more chance to win such a fight than Twain's knights" [10]
As science fiction
While Connecticut Yankee is sometimes credited as the foundational work in the time travel subgenre of science fiction, Twain's novel had several important immediate predecessors. Among them are H.G. Wells's story "The Chronic Argonauts" (1888), which was a precursor to The Time Machine (1895). Also published the year before Connecticut Yankee was Edward Bellamy's wildly popular Looking Backward (1888), in which the protagonist is put into a hypnosis-induced sleep and wakes up in the year 2000. Yet another American novel that could have served as a more direct inspiration to Twain was The Fortunate Island (1882) by Charles Heber Clark. In this novel, a technically proficient American is shipwrecked on an island that broke off from Britain during Arthurian times, and never developed any further.[11]Adaptations and references
Since the beginning of the 20th century, this famous story has been adapted many times for the stage, feature-length motion pictures, and animated cartoons. The earliest film version was Fox's 1921 silent version. In 1927, the novel was adapted into the musical A Connecticut Yankee by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart. A 1931 film, also called A Connecticut Yankee, starred Will Rogers. The story was adapted as an hour-long radio play on the October 5, 1947 broadcast of the Ford Theatre, starring Karl Swenson. A 1949 musical film featured Bing Crosby and Rhonda Fleming, with music by Jimmy Van Heusen and Victor Young. In 1960, Tennessee Ernie Ford starred in a television adaptation. In 1970, the book was adapted into a 74-minute animated TV special directed by Zoran Janjic with Orson Bean as the voice of the title character. In 1978 an episode of Once Upon a Classic, "A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court", was an adaptation,[12] as was the Disney movie Unidentified Flying Oddball, also known as A Spaceman in King Arthur's Court. The TV series The Transformers had a second-season episode, "A Decepticon Raider in King Arthur's Court", that had a group of Autobots and Decepticons sent back to medieval times.[13] In 1988, the Soviet variation called New adventures of a Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Fantasy over Mark Twain's theme appeared. More recently it was adapted into a 1989 TV movie by Paul Zindel which starred Keshia Knight Pulliam of The Cosby Show.[14]It has also inspired many variations and parodies, such as the 1979 Bugs Bunny special A Connecticut Rabbit In King Arthur's Court. In 1995, Walt Disney Studios adapted the book into the feature film A Kid in King Arthur's Court. Army of Darkness drew many inspirations from the novel. A 1992 cartoon series, King Arthur & the Knights of Justice, could also be seen as deriving inspiration from the novel. In 1998 Disney made another adaption with Whoopi Goldberg in A Knight in Camelot. The 2001 film Black Knight similarly transports a modern-day American to Medieval England while adding racial element to the time-traveler plotline.
In the Carl Sagan novel Contact, the protagonist, Eleanor Arroway, is reading A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, specifically the scene where Hank first approaches Camelot, when she finds out about her father's death. The quote "'Bridgeport?' Said I. 'Camelot,' Said he." is also used later in the book, and the story is used as a metaphor for contact between civilizations at very different levels of technological and ethical advancement.[15]
See also
- Mark Twain bibliography
- List of films based on Arthurian legend
- A Dream of John Ball (1889) by William Morris
References
- Tuck, Donald H. (1974). The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction and Fantasy. Chicago: Advent. p. 104. ISBN 0-911682-20-1.
Notes
- Sagan, Carl (1985). Contact. New York: Simon and Schuster. pp. 9–10, 13, 342. ISBN 0-671-00410-7.
External links
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- A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court at Project Gutenberg
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court public domain audiobook at LibriVox
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