Kevin Wright's Blog: SaberPunk - Posts Tagged "grimdark"

So, apparently, grimdark is a thing.
I read it. I watch it. I even write in the genre but have remained ignorant of the term ‘grimdark’ until only recently.

For those who have no idea of what I’m talking about, grimdark is a genre the encapsulates … no. Wait. It’s a sub-genre of fantasy that… No, wait again. It became recognized through the tabletop game Warhammer 40K’s tagline: ‘In the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war’(At least, that’s what Wikipedia told me) and Warhammer 40K is science fiction. So, grimdark is at least a subgenre of both science fiction and fantasy.

If it’s more than a subgenre and less than a genre, what is it? How do you classify something that pervades multiple genres yet is a thing unto itself? Is it even a thing? Was I wrong at the outset of the blog? Is it like pornography, then, according to Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart: ‘I know it when you see it.’

I’ve come up with a definition: a collection of works spanning the vastness that is speculative fiction, all of which have a tone, character, and setting that reflect and aura of despair, or disease, or amorality, or all three.

Now, how to explain it simply and without using the words grim and dark? Because it is grim and it is dark. It’s also gritty( gritty gets used a lot). And violent. Very violent. The setting should be depressing(war or plague or famine or all three running rampant). Its main characters are generally not the nicest people in the world. Some of them are more than likely dicks and the only reason you cut them enough slack to keep on reading is that either you yourself are a dick and/or they are invariably awesome in at least one way. Very often, killing people is that one way.
Somewhat less often is spouting witty one-liners while killing people.

Finally, grimdark is realistic. No, wait. Again, sorry. It’s not realistic since it is speculative fiction and that pretty much means the opposite of realistic. But … it echoes the complexities of reality. Ooh, that sounds deep. But does that even mean anything?

I don’t know.

I just know I like grimdark fiction. So…do you want to check some out? Do you have a sweet tooth for dark tales? Morally repugnant choices and behavior? Protagonists that are worse than monsters? Well, here’s a list of books/series that have been habitually described as grimdark. I’ve read them all and they are at least very good, some even great.

If you want to get a feel for what grimdark is, check them out.

1. ‘Game of Thrones’ - George R.R. Martin (you’ve read it or watched it, best grimdark series)

2. ‘The Prince of Thorns’ – Mark Lawrence (a big name in grimdark)

3. ‘The First Law’ series- Joe Abercrombie (‘The Heroes’ is the best single grimdark book imho; it is not part of the initial trilogy, but I’d advise you read all of his books in order)

4. Warhammer 40K novel/series - (obligatorily included since it started it, the first three books are decent)

5. ‘Conan the Barbarian and Solomon Kane – Robert E. Howard (original sword and sorcery grimdark)

6. ‘The Centauri Device’ M. John Harrison (space opera grimdark; I’ve never seen this listed as grimdark, but I’m listing it as I feel it meets the requirements)

7. ‘Heart of Darkness’ – Joseph Conrad (novella you had to read in high school which is neither sci-fi nor fantasy nor speculative but to me is infinitely grimdark. Perhaps the granddaddy of grimdark? Give it a shot, you might impress someone by reading it, too, since it is considered literature)

Kevin Wright
http://amzn.to/2noAXKj

Review of ‘The Black Company’ by Glen Cook
I’m not sure how I missed ‘The Black Company’ for the forty-one years of my life. It’s a fantasy novel that was published in 1984. I was born in 1976. I give myself a grace period for the first twelve to fifteen years of not having reading it. The other 26 to 29 years are a mystery/embarrassment.

I remember groping around in the late eighties and early nineties for decent fantasy books to read and coming up with a seemingly never-ending conveyor belt of Lord of the Rings rip-offs. Now, nothing against LOTR rip-offs, because some of them were pretty good (And also because I later wrote one and it was not pretty good). But ‘The Black Company’ was and is something different. It may have been ground zero for the birth, or rebirth, of the grimdark fantasy genre (When grimdark started is subject to debate, but look to the ‘Conan’ stories by Robert E. Howard and the ‘Elric’ series by Michael Moorcock).

So how is ‘The Black Company’ different than ‘Lord of the Rings?’

Let me start by saying that the Black Company from ‘The Black Company’ is a mercenary band. That means their motivation as a group is less about Nine Walkers bringing the One True Ring to Mordor for destruction and saving the world from darkness than it is about making cold hard cash to spend on gambling, women, and booze. These men are not heroes. These are cold hard men who are good at what they do, and what they do is what you pay mercenary companies to do. And often what you don’t pay them to do.

As an example, if the Black Company were working in Middle Earth, they would probably be working for Sauron. And in ‘Return of the King’ they would probably have sapped under the walls of Minas Tirith while simultaneously slinging sorcerous fireballs and attacking on all fronts with siege engines. On top of all that, behind the scenes, long before the siege even began, the baddest of the bad would have infiltrated the walls of the much vaunted seven-walled city and very likely have murdered Denethor and Faramir and any other nobleman with three or more syllables to their name. In fact, the only person left to lead the defense against the horde invasion would probably have been some dude named Doug who once, in his own words, ‘Used to swing swords with that guy named Boromir. Way back in the day.’

Conventional wisdom theorizes that Doug would not have lead a successful defense campaign against the orc horde.

Which means that Sauron wins.

And Middle Earth falls into shadow.

But most importantly, the Black Company gets paid.

So the Black Company is not a bunch of good guys. There’s not a white hat amongst the bunch. But they’re not morally bankrupt in every sense of the word. There are redeeming qualities amongst its many brethren despite the fact that you wouldn’t want to meet most of them in a dark alley. There are innocents who they save. There are lesser goods perpetrated in the name of greater evil. And there may not be honor amongst thieves, but there is amongst the Black Company. They fight as a unit, always having each other’s backs despite often being at one another’s throats. Petty squabbles are thrust aside when the chips are down. Which is often. Sacrifices are made in the name of honor and camaraderie. Ultimate sacrifices. Here are men who fight not for ideals or for king or country but for the man standing next to them in the lines, in the melees, in the trenches.

These are strong men. These are weak men. These are simply men.

So why am I reviewing ‘The Black Company’ some thirty-odd years after it was published? Because it’s good. Because I missed it. Somehow. And because maybe you missed it, too. And because there are ten books in the series. Ten. And that’s a beautiful damn number of books to have to look forward to.

Kevin Wright
-Amazon Author Page http://amzn.to/2noAXKj

So, The Great American Read is going on as we speak, and I’ve decided to be inspired and check out a few classics that have fallen by the wayside for me. The first I read was ‘Catch 22’ a book I reread every five years or so. It’s a darkly funny antiwar novel. The next classic I read was ‘Their Eyes Were Watching God’ by Nora Zeal Hurston which I’ve never read. It’s the tale of an African-American woman’s life in the years following the Civil War. Both are great books. Both stories are suffused with a mix of darkness and despair and humor.

The third classic I read was ‘My Antonia’ by Willa Cather. I picked it up because I’d read ‘O Pioneers’ a long time ago and remembered enjoying it for some reason. So I figured I’d give ‘My Antonia’ a whirl. I won’t say that ‘My Antonia’ trumped the other two tales in terms of an overall sense of darkness and despair, but there was one scene in the book that was like a punch to the gut for a book I initially took to be a sort of YA coming-of-age story set in the 19th century.

‘My Antonia’ is indeed a coming-of-age story set in the 19th century. It’s told from the perspective of Jim Burden, a young boy growing up on the plains of Nebraska. He’s raised by his grandparents who are exceedingly stolid farming folk. They are strong and righteous and good and set a fine example for young Jim. Jim also has neighbors, the Shimerdas, who’ve recently moved nearby. They are somewhat less stolid, (the father’s a flake and the mother’s a jerk) with the exception of the titular Antonia, the eldest daughter of that clan. She is a wonderfully strong young woman whose vibrancy and lust for life leaves a lasting impression on Jim.

Life goes on. Good stuff. Bad stuff. Read the book, Willa Cather is a fantastic writer.
Amidst all this good and bad life stuff is the gut-punching story of Peter and Pavel. I remember stopping and rereading it. It was sort of like when Ned Stark got his head cut off. I wasn’t sure I read it properly.

Peter and Pavel are Russian immigrants who are Jim and Antonia’s neighbors. They are friends particularly with Antonia’s father, Mr. Shimerda, with whom they gather and tell tales of the old country. They seem like a pair of eccentric but essentially good-hearted bachelors. The Nebraskan plains folk like them. The kids like them. Everyone likes them.

The story moves on.

We learn Peter and Pavel left Russia under nebulous circumstances. It doesn’t really raise anyone’s eyebrow until one night when Pavel takes ill and becomes bedridden. He deteriorates quickly, both physically and mentally. In the throes of a consuming fever, with coyotes howling outside, Pavel is tormented by something. Someone. Phantoms. In his throes, he whispers a confession to Antonia’s father in Russian. Jim can only sit by and listen and watch without understanding.

Poor Antonia, however, sits there and listens with understanding.

Jim’s the lucky one.

‘“He’s scared of the wolves,” Antonia whispered to me.’(My Antonia p.28)
So begins a confession that slightly tarnishes the initial view that Peter and Pavel are a pair of good-hearted bachelors.

Cut to Antonia relating Pavel’s story to Jim.
Now, if you want to know the story without me spoiling it for you, stop reading this and go read ‘My Antonia.’ (Also, and unsurprisingly, Cather tells it much better them I.) I know, it’s maybe not your preferred genre. It’s generally not my preferred genre, but reading something a little different is good for you. Get out of your comfort zone. And it’s not long, only 175 pages. Every library in the world has it. And Willa Cather can write. You’ll blow right through it.
But if you’re lazy like me, and you want a synopsis of Pavel’s story, here goes.

Many years ago, Peter and Pavel were part of a wedding party in Russia. They were riding on a sledge with the bride and groom, leading a party of six sledges back to their home village from the nuptial celebration. It was winter, obviously. Snow blanketed the ground and I quote, “The wolves were bad that winter.”(Cather 30)

It was NOT, the WEATHER was bad. NOT, the SNOW was bad. NOT even the WIND was bad. No. The WOLVES were bad that winter.

Things deteriorate quickly from this point.
A pack of wolves starts following the party. There’s an accident and one sledge overturns, all of its riders spilling free. Carnage ensues. The spilled riders are set upon and slaughtered by the wolves. The good news is, those wolves have full bellies now and can barely run. The bad news? There are a lot more wolves, and they are a bloodthirsty bunch. The horses drawing the sledges go mad with panic.

The remaining sledges race through the moonlit snow toward the safety of a their home village.

Peter and Pavel and the newlyweds are in the lead sledge, and theirs holds only the four as opposed the other sledges which are overladen with revelers. Which makes them slower. And tastier. Also, they’re not reveling at this point.

Then, one by one, the wolves overtake the sledges behind and slaughter the riders.
In the home stretch for the safety of their village, Pavel notices that one of their horses is injured. He’s not going to make it. Under the strain, he’s going to fall and take the other horses with him. The wolves behind are gaining. What can they do?

Pavel, in a stroke of Mac Gyver-like brilliance, suggests to the groom that they lighten the load for the poor horse by throwing his new bride to the wolves. The groom is a good guy, however, and refuses. Pavel is not such a good guy, though, and knocks the groom out of the sledge. The wolves eat him. Then for good measure, he hurls the bride out after. Then they eat her. There ends the quickest marriage in Russian history.

The good news? With their load lightened, the injured horse and team triumphs and delivers our heroes to the safety of the village. Peter and Pavel survive! Sure, they’re ostracized by their village for murder, driven out, harangued out of their country and forced to move eventually to the wilds of Nebraska, the only place that will take them, but they survive.

And so we all learn a lesson from this dark tale: don’t invite Peter or Pavel to your wedding. They’ll murder you with wolves.

Kevin Wright
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