Showing posts with label justice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label justice. Show all posts

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Aliens of the Hyborian Age



Marvel Comics Vol. 1, Issue 116, of “Conan The Barbarian,” contains the story “Crawler in the Mist,” written by Len Wein (along with some help from J. M. DeMatteis).  Conan falls off his horse, is bitten by a snake, and manages to suck out most of the venom before he passes out.  When he awakens, he finds himself shackled to a scrawny, old trader named Rasto, who intends to take him to the market, where he will sell him as a slave.  Conan quickly reverses Rasto’s perspective as to who holds the power over whom in the situation.  It’s an example of one of the things Conan does so well, by showing how the laws and customs we so carefully construct often fail to protect us, distort our concept of justice, and dull our sense of compassion.

There’s another aspect of Conan I love, and that’s how the Hyborian Age often combines Fantasy and Science Fiction elements in a weird yet compelling way.  The two men arrive at a city haunted by “a hideous creature that prowls its streets by night.”  This creature, beautifully drawn by John Buscema and Neal Adams, and colored by George Roussos, knocks Conan down, grabs Rasto, and carries him off.  True to his sense of justice and responsibility for others, Conan takes off after the creature, to free his would-be captor from its clutches.  He discovers that the creature is not a mindless beast, but a sentient being from another world, who has traveled to Earth for a complex and noble purpose.  The monster even reveals that it is more humane than the majority of humans, when Conan discovers how it cares for the aging and infirm people in the city.

This willingness to confront complex issues, and combine different literary genres, is not original to Wein, but can be traced back to Conan’s creator, Robert E. Howard.  In “The Tower of the Elephant,” (one of the first handful of Conan stories Howard wrote), Conan is a young man visiting the city of Zamora.  Taurus of Nemedia convinces Conan to partner with him, sneak inside the tower, and steal some of the tower’s fabled jewels.  Conan fights off the expected, normal dangers, as well as ones familiar to traditional Fantasy.  But when he reaches the heart of the complex, he discovers a humanoid biped with a head, ears, and trunk like that of an elephant.  The monster tells Conan he hails “from the green planet Yag, which circles for ever in the outer fringe of this universe.  We swept through space on mighty wings that drove us through the cosmos quicker than light…but we could never return, for on earth our wings withered.”  The creature describes his former civilization, relates the history of his people on earth, and tells how he has been captured and tortured by the human wizard Yara to secure his own power.  Leave it to Conan to restore justice to the situation, even if he must flee the tower no richer than when he arrived.

Just like good Fiction, people are often more complex than they appear.  Individuals that look plain and ordinary often hide a wealth of complexity.  Sometimes, others seem so alien that they might as well hail from another planet.  The refined view is that it’s safer and better to leave them to their own kind, and not “get involved.”  But Conan is simple, and because he is simple, he sees through the web of deceits that often obscure a situation.  He may not be an angel, but unlike many more complex people, he usually acts to resolve the problem, prompted by his notion of justice, and his sense of compassion.

Maybe that’s why Conan, for all his rough edges, has become such a beloved character in books, comic books, on TV, and in the cinema.

Dragon Dave

P.S.  The Coming of Conan the Cimmerian, a collection of Robert E. Howard’s early Conan stories, was edited by Patrice Louinet, and contains beautiful illustrations by Mark Schultz.  If you’re new to Conan, have only encountered him through comic books, have only read the stories written by others, or read the stories edited (and in some cases finished) by L. Sprague de Camp, you owe it to yourself to check out this volume and discover the pure, unadulterated Robert E. Howard.  I think you’ll like him. 

Friday, January 11, 2013

Sheldon Cooper Loves Trains



While Sheldon Cooper on "The Big Bang Theory" is incredibly smart, he’s still childlike in many ways.  When his friend Leonard hosts a Christmas-themed Dungeons & Dragons night, Sheldon ruins the game by locking up Santa Claus and throwing away the key.  It seems that one year Sheldon asked Santa to resurrect a loved one, and when this didn’t happen, he held a grudge that he’s never relinquished.

It thus comes as a shock to him when Santa appears in his living room.  Despite his hateful actions, Sheldon nonetheless expects Santa to give him something he’d really like.  His eyes light up at the thought that Santa might give him a train set.  They blaze when he thinks that Santa might even go further, and give him two or three.  Instead, Santa repays his hurtful act by lighting a canon and blowing Sheldon away.  Even in our dreams, it seems that justice still rules.

Often, the limitations of those around me bother me more than my own.  I find myself surrounded by people who speak or act unkindly, show less sensitivity toward my needs than they could, or display no desire to repay the  kindnesses I have bestowed on them.  I know, to a certain extent, that this is merely justice repaying my own past unkindnesses, thoughtlessness, and insensitivity.  Yet it can be so easy to excuse my own limitations, while blaming others for theirs. 

As Stephen R. Covey said in The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, I can choose to act, or be acted upon.  I can choose to model myself on the person I wish to be, or I can allow others’ defects and limitations to define me.  I know who I want to be: giving, caring, and forward-looking.  I do not wish my actions to be dictated by previous injustices, but empowered by the ideals I wish to embody, and the world I desire to inhabit. 

In "The Big Bang Theory," Sheldon Cooper doesn’t engage in friendships so much as he forges contracts defining acceptable actions and behaviors with those in his life.  In this way, he limits the actions of others, while maximizing his own freedom.  Should a friend or roommate violate such an agreement, this will allow Sheldon to perpetrate any act of nastiness or cruelty necessary to correct the other’s behavior, and thus realign the scales of justice. 

Although it may not have been my intention, I know that at times my words, deeds, or perhaps even my lack of action have hurt and disappointed others.  So I can understand when others repay my evil with their own.  That’s bottom-line Human interaction: "An eye for an eye."  Often I find myself viewing and interacting with others in such basic terms.  But on the whole, I aspire to mature beyond such a childlike mindset, to be more adult than that, to trade in mercy and grace rather than justice. 


To give others trains, even if they don’t deserve them.

Dragon Dave

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