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Northwest Smith
Meet the iconic space outlaw who "could be Han Solo's grandfather," in these stories by a pioneer of Golden Age science fiction (SF Signal).
First published in Weird Tales in the early 1930s, C.L. Moore's Northwest Smith stories, especially "Shambleau," were hailed as some of the most imaginative and vivid science fiction stories ever to come out of the golden age of sci-fi. At a time when women were heavily underrepresented in the genre, Moore was among the first to gain critical and popular acclaim, and decades later was inducted into the Science Fiction and Fantasy Hall of Fame.
Northwest Smith, now recognized by many as the archetypal space smuggler and gunslinger, is an adventurer in the classic sense of the word, and these thirteen stories chronicle the bizarre dangers, interstellar wonders, and titillating romances that captured the imagination of a generation.
First published in Weird Tales in the early 1930s, C.L. Moore's Northwest Smith stories, especially "Shambleau," were hailed as some of the most imaginative and vivid science fiction stories ever to come out of the golden age of sci-fi. At a time when women were heavily underrepresented in the genre, Moore was among the first to gain critical and popular acclaim, and decades later was inducted into the Science Fiction and Fantasy Hall of Fame.
Northwest Smith, now recognized by many as the archetypal space smuggler and gunslinger, is an adventurer in the classic sense of the word, and these thirteen stories chronicle the bizarre dangers, interstellar wonders, and titillating romances that captured the imagination of a generation.
297 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 1, 1982
70 people are currently reading
503 people want to read
About the author
C.L. Moore
309 books211 followersExcerpted from Wikipedia:
Catherine Lucille Moore was an American science fiction and fantasy writer, as C. L. Moore. She was one of the first women to write in the genre, and paved the way for many other female writers in speculative fiction.
Moore met Henry Kuttner, also a science fiction writer, in 1936 when he wrote her a fan letter (mistakenly thinking that "C. L. Moore" was a man), and they married in 1940.
Afterwards, almost all of their stories were written in collaboration under various pseudonyms, most commonly Lewis Padgett (another pseudonym, one Moore often employed for works that involved little or no collaboration, was Lawrence O'Donnell).
Catherine Lucille Moore was an American science fiction and fantasy writer, as C. L. Moore. She was one of the first women to write in the genre, and paved the way for many other female writers in speculative fiction.
Moore met Henry Kuttner, also a science fiction writer, in 1936 when he wrote her a fan letter (mistakenly thinking that "C. L. Moore" was a man), and they married in 1940.
Afterwards, almost all of their stories were written in collaboration under various pseudonyms, most commonly Lewis Padgett (another pseudonym, one Moore often employed for works that involved little or no collaboration, was Lawrence O'Donnell).
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 38 reviews
May 27, 2019
C.L. Moore was a phenom. She was a popular pulp goddess in an era that welcomed not the talented female, not even the grudging welcome of the feminist awakening time or the offhand occasional kudo of today's dismal cultural landscape. She muscled her way through the door of a paid writing career on talent, nary a "feminine wile" or a compromise in her lifestyle to be seen. It's true that she married...Henry Kuttner...and that she and her husband frequently collaborated, as they together earned more than she did alone on a per-word basis. But that seems a quibble as, in this our good day of the 21st century, women still earn almost 1/3 less than men in identical jobs. Why this should be is, was, and always will be a complete bafflement to me. No one has ever given me a remotely sensible answer to the question of why this should be true, now especially but really ever.
Anyway. Northwest Smith is, next to Jirel of Joiry, Moore's most famous character. Jirel gets more attention because she's a badass warrior queen in a fantasy setting, where NW is a man in spacer's leathers that Moore very lovingly describes more than once. And Moore also makes NW an object of desire, mostly for women but occasionally for men, and in one *very*memorable*story* even has ol' Northwest delivering a whole bunch of barely euphemised blowjobs to, well, to an unclearly described sentient and possibly even animate divine...thingy. No, not that thingy exactly, but a kind of numinous, umm, like cock-fountain-feeding trough thingy. Hell, I dunno, it's her kink not mine, but believe me when I tell you that the acts NW performs are most definitely and most lovingly described in such a way that any adult (even non-pervy ones, if you can find one to ask) knows *exactly* what she's talking about.
The coda in this book is what we today call flash fiction. A story called Song in a Minor Key that's about 500 words of homecoming nostalgia for Northwest as he at last returns to Earth after more than 20 years of exile in the alt-physics Solar System committing petty crimes and saving damsels in distress among the three inhabited planets of the inner worlds and one foray to the inhabited moons of Jupiter. It's a Golden Age Solar System for sure, everything has earth-standard atmospheres and earthly gravity or close to it; a naive world that she builds from her era's very different understanding of how the whole other-planets thing works. She even makes a nod towards the unlikeliness of her premise in a story set on the moon. But I like the idea of reading about Otherness, and there's very little more Other than a Solar System with other human races on other worlds.
I don't think this collection will be for everyone. I suspect modern women will find much to sneer at in Moore's seductive enchantresses, mantraps to a woman. Stick to Jirel of Joiry, female persons. Men addicted to modern worldbuilding will buck and rear at the setting. But a few of us weirdos exist who want to revisit the dear dead days, and this is a means to do so; even though we can't undo modernity's death grip on our vitals, for some of us there is enough of the old-fashioned sexist racist unquestioningly accepting of that status quo left to resonate unironically with assumptions we no longer hold. All fifty of us should probably read this book.
Just not all in a gulp. It goes down easier in tapas-like savorings.
Shambleau hot damn! No wonder my memories of this collection are so...fond. Golden Age perversion of pleasure as Medusa's master pattern introduces Northwest Smith to delights so revolting he can't stop himself from reveling in them.
Black Thirst was daring stuff in the 1930s. It explicitly makes Northwest Smith into the object of a male-like alien creature's dark and hungry desire for male beauty. Shocking! And ever so humidly written.
Tree of Life is another "nameless horror infinite dread defeated by the Adamantine Honour of Northwest Smith refusing to be violated" story. Much of a muchness, in other words. Thag's little pocket universe is cool. The Botticelli grass is a great and lasting image.
Scarlet Dreams appeared in May 1934. They were more innocent times. This story, presented today, would only be published in one of those one-handed reading magazines. (Do those still exist or is it all on the web now?) Northwest gets completely hooked on tube steak, the literal only source of sustenance in a weird alternate dimension, and just loves it. A woman sacrifices her life to unhook him. *whew* This could easily be retitled "The B.J. Story." And now it has an illustration! Artist Gary P. DeSalvo painted a perfect atmospheric rendering of the story called Energy Source at Horror Sleaze Trash, which site one should put on the webtour of life.
Dust of Gods features Northwest and his Venusian partner in crime Yarol seeking the supercharged ashes of the Elder God Pharol (itals in the original, and always used in referring to this particular god) at the behest of a Peter Lorre-esque little smoothie, that he may...who knows, destroy the universe or summat, he seems like that kind of guy. Spoiler alert: They don't give the ashes to him.
Paradise Lost makes it clear that Moore's weird physics, allowing inhabited Venus and Mars, knows no limits save those of the Divine as Northwest in his atheism resists the Will of the Gods to astonishing effect.
Julhi has Smith spending a very long time in the Venusian Atlantis-cum-Brigadoon called Vonng. He is accompanied by a Venusian woman/seer and a totally wacked devilangel named Julhi who seduces him with what resembles closely the acid trips I remember from my misspent youth. Just as he's about to pay the bill for his ecstatic adventure, he escapes by committing a violent act. Comme d'habitude.
The Cold Grey God finds Northwest in a very unwilling near-death experience of battle with the titular god. While committing theft in service of a dead-ish pop idol, NW opens a gate for Mars's long-gone dread god to return after a million-year plus exile to resume its bloody rule. His steely mettle is tested from within as never before by expelling IT from his own body. Big fun.
Yvala places the Circe legend among the inhabited moons of Jupiter, a tropical paradise where Yarol and Northwest go on behalf of some slavers to procure women for the sex trade. Icky, right? But it's really evocative and atmospheric and I reveled in the ending, major modern-sensibility ickiness aside.
Anyway. Northwest Smith is, next to Jirel of Joiry, Moore's most famous character. Jirel gets more attention because she's a badass warrior queen in a fantasy setting, where NW is a man in spacer's leathers that Moore very lovingly describes more than once. And Moore also makes NW an object of desire, mostly for women but occasionally for men, and in one *very*memorable*story* even has ol' Northwest delivering a whole bunch of barely euphemised blowjobs to, well, to an unclearly described sentient and possibly even animate divine...thingy. No, not that thingy exactly, but a kind of numinous, umm, like cock-fountain-feeding trough thingy. Hell, I dunno, it's her kink not mine, but believe me when I tell you that the acts NW performs are most definitely and most lovingly described in such a way that any adult (even non-pervy ones, if you can find one to ask) knows *exactly* what she's talking about.
The coda in this book is what we today call flash fiction. A story called Song in a Minor Key that's about 500 words of homecoming nostalgia for Northwest as he at last returns to Earth after more than 20 years of exile in the alt-physics Solar System committing petty crimes and saving damsels in distress among the three inhabited planets of the inner worlds and one foray to the inhabited moons of Jupiter. It's a Golden Age Solar System for sure, everything has earth-standard atmospheres and earthly gravity or close to it; a naive world that she builds from her era's very different understanding of how the whole other-planets thing works. She even makes a nod towards the unlikeliness of her premise in a story set on the moon. But I like the idea of reading about Otherness, and there's very little more Other than a Solar System with other human races on other worlds.
I don't think this collection will be for everyone. I suspect modern women will find much to sneer at in Moore's seductive enchantresses, mantraps to a woman. Stick to Jirel of Joiry, female persons. Men addicted to modern worldbuilding will buck and rear at the setting. But a few of us weirdos exist who want to revisit the dear dead days, and this is a means to do so; even though we can't undo modernity's death grip on our vitals, for some of us there is enough of the old-fashioned sexist racist unquestioningly accepting of that status quo left to resonate unironically with assumptions we no longer hold. All fifty of us should probably read this book.
Just not all in a gulp. It goes down easier in tapas-like savorings.
Shambleau hot damn! No wonder my memories of this collection are so...fond. Golden Age perversion of pleasure as Medusa's master pattern introduces Northwest Smith to delights so revolting he can't stop himself from reveling in them.
Black Thirst was daring stuff in the 1930s. It explicitly makes Northwest Smith into the object of a male-like alien creature's dark and hungry desire for male beauty. Shocking! And ever so humidly written.
Tree of Life is another "nameless horror infinite dread defeated by the Adamantine Honour of Northwest Smith refusing to be violated" story. Much of a muchness, in other words. Thag's little pocket universe is cool. The Botticelli grass is a great and lasting image.
Scarlet Dreams appeared in May 1934. They were more innocent times. This story, presented today, would only be published in one of those one-handed reading magazines. (Do those still exist or is it all on the web now?) Northwest gets completely hooked on tube steak, the literal only source of sustenance in a weird alternate dimension, and just loves it. A woman sacrifices her life to unhook him. *whew* This could easily be retitled "The B.J. Story." And now it has an illustration! Artist Gary P. DeSalvo painted a perfect atmospheric rendering of the story called Energy Source at Horror Sleaze Trash, which site one should put on the webtour of life.
Dust of Gods features Northwest and his Venusian partner in crime Yarol seeking the supercharged ashes of the Elder God Pharol (itals in the original, and always used in referring to this particular god) at the behest of a Peter Lorre-esque little smoothie, that he may...who knows, destroy the universe or summat, he seems like that kind of guy. Spoiler alert: They don't give the ashes to him.
Paradise Lost makes it clear that Moore's weird physics, allowing inhabited Venus and Mars, knows no limits save those of the Divine as Northwest in his atheism resists the Will of the Gods to astonishing effect.
Julhi has Smith spending a very long time in the Venusian Atlantis-cum-Brigadoon called Vonng. He is accompanied by a Venusian woman/seer and a totally wacked devilangel named Julhi who seduces him with what resembles closely the acid trips I remember from my misspent youth. Just as he's about to pay the bill for his ecstatic adventure, he escapes by committing a violent act. Comme d'habitude.
The Cold Grey God finds Northwest in a very unwilling near-death experience of battle with the titular god. While committing theft in service of a dead-ish pop idol, NW opens a gate for Mars's long-gone dread god to return after a million-year plus exile to resume its bloody rule. His steely mettle is tested from within as never before by expelling IT from his own body. Big fun.
Yvala places the Circe legend among the inhabited moons of Jupiter, a tropical paradise where Yarol and Northwest go on behalf of some slavers to procure women for the sex trade. Icky, right? But it's really evocative and atmospheric and I reveled in the ending, major modern-sensibility ickiness aside.
February 9, 2022
-Pulp sobrio y con atmósfera, pero Pulp al fin y al cabo.-
Género. Relatos.
Lo que nos cuenta. El libro Northwest Smith (publicación original: Northwest Smith: 1933-1940, 1981) es una recopilación de relatos del solitario Northwest Smith, ordenados en busca de la mayor continuidad posible entre las tramas respecto a las andanzas del aventurero espacial que las protagoniza, que lo llevaran a afrontar distintas amenazas en varios planetas del Sistema Solar. La edición en español incluye un relato escrito junto a Forrest J. Ackerman en 1935, pero en su versión revisada y corregida de 1994.
¿Quiere saber más de este libro, sin spoilers? Visite:
https://librosdeolethros.blogspot.com...
Género. Relatos.
Lo que nos cuenta. El libro Northwest Smith (publicación original: Northwest Smith: 1933-1940, 1981) es una recopilación de relatos del solitario Northwest Smith, ordenados en busca de la mayor continuidad posible entre las tramas respecto a las andanzas del aventurero espacial que las protagoniza, que lo llevaran a afrontar distintas amenazas en varios planetas del Sistema Solar. La edición en español incluye un relato escrito junto a Forrest J. Ackerman en 1935, pero en su versión revisada y corregida de 1994.
¿Quiere saber más de este libro, sin spoilers? Visite:
https://librosdeolethros.blogspot.com...
August 21, 2018
The original readers of the legendary pulp magazine "Weird Tales" could have had little idea of what a landmark release the November '33 issue would turn out to be. Kicking off the magazine that month, and preceding stories by such already established veterans as Edmond Hamilton, E. Hoffman Price, Clark Ashton Smith and Mary Elizabeth Counselman, was a story with the unusual title "Shambleau," written by an author who nobody had ever heard of...for the simple reason that "Shambleau" was the very first sale by the 22-year-old writer C.L. Moore. The story turned out to be something of a sensation, featuring a taciturn, smuggler antihero named Northwest Smith and an alien who truly was alien, and written with stunningly evocative language, to boot. "Weird Tales" readers demanded more, and Moore delivered, placing eight more Northwest stories between November '33 and October '36.
To this day, "Shambleau" remains one of the most oft-anthologized stories in all of sci-fi, and for good reason. Moody, frightening and strange, it is a story never to be forgotten. But the other tales of Northwest Smith are all worth reading, as well, combining as they do science fiction, fantasy and horror in equal measures. Smith, in these tales, encounters living gods, creatures that are the basis of ancient mythology, otherdimensional menaces, soul-sucking monstrosities and dreamscape wonderlands, and it was thus no surprise for this reader to learn that the Indianapolis-born Moore, despite her staid job as a bank clerk when she penned "Shambleau," was later a member of the "Lovecraft Circle"; a group of authors who regularly corresponded with the so-called Sage of Providence himself. Henry Kuttner was another member of this Circle, and he was so taken with Moore's Northwest Smith stories (as well as those dealing with Moore's sword-swinging Jirel of Joiry) that he wrote that author fan letters as well, starting in 1936, never realizing that the "C.L." stood for Catherine Lucille, and that the object of his admiration was a woman! The two would later marry, of course, and inaugurate what was arguably the greatest husband-and-wife writing team in sci-fi/fantasy history. But the Smith stories are essentially C.L.'s own, and remain some of the sturdiest pillars of Golden Age science fiction, now more than 80 years after the fact. (By the way, several folks have suggested that Northwest Smith just might have been an inspiration for George Lucas' Han Solo character, but I cannot quite buy into that notion; other than the fact that both are smuggler types, they are wholly dissimilar in nature. I can believe, however, that the name "Northwest Smith" might have been an inspiration for the name "Indiana Jones," although this is only a wild speculation of my own.) And thanks to the 1982 Ace volume entitled "Northwest Smith," 10 of these wonderful stories can be had all under one cover.
The collection, as might be expected, opens with "Shambleau" itself, in which Smith, while awaiting the fruition of one of his shady dealings on the planet Mars, rescues the titular character just as she is about to be lynched by a mob. He takes the strange young woman back to his hotel room, and were it not for the intervention of his oft-mentioned partner in crime, Yarol the Venusian, probably would never have left that room alive afterward. I will be coy for the sake of those who have yet to read this legendary tale, but will urge them as strongly as I can to at least read it sometime soon, as it really is one of the finest ever given to the sci-fi community.
And the second Smith story, "Black Thirst," is almost as memorable. Here, our hero learns the dreadful secrets of the Venusian Minga house, where women have been bred for centuries to achieve unparalleled heights of almost supernal beauty. Invited into this ancient, sacrosanct pile by a Minga girl named Vaudir, Smith encounters a slime demon from the pits as he discovers the truth about the Minga master, the Alendar. And, in a segment that I recalled vividly from my first reading over 35 years ago, Smith is driven to near madness by the sight of an increasingly gorgeous series of Minga girls; beauty, in this tale, is an almost physical force, capable of overwhelming the gazer. It is a wonderful tale, really, both mysterious and exotic.
From here on, this Ace collection presents its stories in nonchronological order; don’t ask me why. In "Tree of Life," we find Smith hiding out from the authorities in a deserted Martian ruin called Illar. After seeing the ghostly form of a young woman flitting through the area, Smith is trapped with her in some kind of otherdimensional realm, where little people scamper through the undergrowth and a demonic, tree-shaped thing, only referred to as Thag, periodically summons for sacrifice. Dripping with weird-menace atmosphere, this story is a perfect amalgam of the sci-fi/fantasy/horror trio mentioned above.
"Scarlet Dream" is another story in which poor Northwest is sucked into an otherdimensional realm through no fault of his own. After purchasing an alien-made shawl in the Martian Lakkmanda Markets, Smith brings it back to his room, gazes at its intricate patterns, and is suddenly kerplopped into one of the most dreamlike fantasylands that any reader has ever encountered. Here, blue, green and violet mists continually drift; bloodsucking grasses caress one's passing feet; spigots supply the scant populace with blood; and the days pass in a languorous, lotusland dream. Smith spends an indeterminate span of time there with a young woman whose name we never learn, in a story that grows increasingly oneiric as it proceeds. A bravura piece of work from Catherine Lucille here.
"Dust of Gods" also transpires on Mars, with Smith and Yarol venturing to that planet's northernmost ice cap to discover the resting place where resides the actual remains of the Martian god Pharol. Never a pair to turn down a $50,000 commission, the two reach the suspected coordinates, open up a hidden tunnel, and actually do discover the remnants of the millennia-dead godhead. But a moral crisis of sorts looms for the two, in this hugely entertaining and imaginative thrill ride.
"Lost Paradise" finds Smith and Yarol back on Earth, having drinks high above the streets of NYC. After assisting a member of the ancient race of Seles--a lost culture in the Himalayas, apparently--when a valuable package of his is stolen, the two are vouchsafed a vision of the beautiful culture that had existed on Earth's moon millions of years before, and, in an ironic conclusion, learn what happened to turn the titular paradise into a pockmarked wasteland.
In "Julhi," Smith awakens in a pitch-black Venusian dungeon of sorts, in the deserted island ruin of Vonng. From there, he and a very frightened girl named Apri are precipitated into the otherdimensional realm of the title character, a one-eyed, feather-crested woman (?) who plumbs Smith's psyche and shares her alien experiences with him mentally. In a borderline psychedelic segment, Smith flies through the cosmos with her, sees her people at war, and participates in some kind of street rally, before forcing himself back to where he started. Boasting as it does the collection's most unusual alien as well as its most wildly imaginative moments, "Julhi" really is another great piece of work from Ms. Moore.
"The Cold Gray God" again finds Smith near the Martian pole, this time in snowbound Righa, where Judai of Venus, a famous female entertainer who had mysteriously disappeared many years earlier, hires our hero to steal a "little ivory box" from a local canalman. Ultimately, the secret of this mysterious chest, and of Judai's strange zombielike behavior, are revealed, in this increasingly frightening tale...one in which Smith is forced to fight for the possession of his own body with yet another of the elder Martian gods.
Taking the concept of alien female beauty to the nth degree is "Yvala," in which Smith and Yarol are hired by a slaving racket to investigate reports of lovely female sirens who have been spotted in the primeval jungles covering one of Jupiter's moons. After fighting off the slavering alien flora, our valiant pair does indeed discover a mysterious bevy of identical beauties, ruled over by the entity only known as Yvala...a creature so intensely beautiful that she drains the very life essence out of anyone who ventures near. Hard sci-fi takes a sharp turn into the realm of fantasy when Smith seems to discern the drained soul remnants of Yvala's previous victims; men whose spirits have reverted atavistically to earlier forms! Trust me, this is one wild ride here, brought to life in Moore's most compelling manner.
This Northwest Smith collection concludes with a short story that did not appear originally in the pages of "Weird Tales," but rather in the June '57 issue of "Fantastic Universe." "Song in a Minor Key" simply finds Smith laying on his back in a grassy field, happy to be on his home planet of Earth, and reflecting on the youthful incident that got him started on his lawless career. It is a sweet and gentle little coda that brings this remarkable collection to a close. But wait...there IS one more tale out there concerning Northwest Smith that did appear in "Weird Tales" originally (in the November '37 issue, to be exact) and that does not appear in this otherwise perfect anthology. That tale's name is "Quest of the Starstone," which Moore co-wrote with Kuttner, and which somehow unites, for the first and only time, the futuristic Smith and the medieval Jirel of Joiry! I hope to finally read this tale very shortly, but before I do, want to give another read to Ace's 1982 "Jirel of Joiry" collection. Like Shambleau, and Julhi, and Yvala, a little bit of C.L. Moore, as I've long known, can prove very highly addictive....
(By the way, this review originally appeared on the FanLit website at http://www.fantasyliterature.com/ ... a most ideal destination for all fans of C. L. Moore....)
To this day, "Shambleau" remains one of the most oft-anthologized stories in all of sci-fi, and for good reason. Moody, frightening and strange, it is a story never to be forgotten. But the other tales of Northwest Smith are all worth reading, as well, combining as they do science fiction, fantasy and horror in equal measures. Smith, in these tales, encounters living gods, creatures that are the basis of ancient mythology, otherdimensional menaces, soul-sucking monstrosities and dreamscape wonderlands, and it was thus no surprise for this reader to learn that the Indianapolis-born Moore, despite her staid job as a bank clerk when she penned "Shambleau," was later a member of the "Lovecraft Circle"; a group of authors who regularly corresponded with the so-called Sage of Providence himself. Henry Kuttner was another member of this Circle, and he was so taken with Moore's Northwest Smith stories (as well as those dealing with Moore's sword-swinging Jirel of Joiry) that he wrote that author fan letters as well, starting in 1936, never realizing that the "C.L." stood for Catherine Lucille, and that the object of his admiration was a woman! The two would later marry, of course, and inaugurate what was arguably the greatest husband-and-wife writing team in sci-fi/fantasy history. But the Smith stories are essentially C.L.'s own, and remain some of the sturdiest pillars of Golden Age science fiction, now more than 80 years after the fact. (By the way, several folks have suggested that Northwest Smith just might have been an inspiration for George Lucas' Han Solo character, but I cannot quite buy into that notion; other than the fact that both are smuggler types, they are wholly dissimilar in nature. I can believe, however, that the name "Northwest Smith" might have been an inspiration for the name "Indiana Jones," although this is only a wild speculation of my own.) And thanks to the 1982 Ace volume entitled "Northwest Smith," 10 of these wonderful stories can be had all under one cover.
The collection, as might be expected, opens with "Shambleau" itself, in which Smith, while awaiting the fruition of one of his shady dealings on the planet Mars, rescues the titular character just as she is about to be lynched by a mob. He takes the strange young woman back to his hotel room, and were it not for the intervention of his oft-mentioned partner in crime, Yarol the Venusian, probably would never have left that room alive afterward. I will be coy for the sake of those who have yet to read this legendary tale, but will urge them as strongly as I can to at least read it sometime soon, as it really is one of the finest ever given to the sci-fi community.
And the second Smith story, "Black Thirst," is almost as memorable. Here, our hero learns the dreadful secrets of the Venusian Minga house, where women have been bred for centuries to achieve unparalleled heights of almost supernal beauty. Invited into this ancient, sacrosanct pile by a Minga girl named Vaudir, Smith encounters a slime demon from the pits as he discovers the truth about the Minga master, the Alendar. And, in a segment that I recalled vividly from my first reading over 35 years ago, Smith is driven to near madness by the sight of an increasingly gorgeous series of Minga girls; beauty, in this tale, is an almost physical force, capable of overwhelming the gazer. It is a wonderful tale, really, both mysterious and exotic.
From here on, this Ace collection presents its stories in nonchronological order; don’t ask me why. In "Tree of Life," we find Smith hiding out from the authorities in a deserted Martian ruin called Illar. After seeing the ghostly form of a young woman flitting through the area, Smith is trapped with her in some kind of otherdimensional realm, where little people scamper through the undergrowth and a demonic, tree-shaped thing, only referred to as Thag, periodically summons for sacrifice. Dripping with weird-menace atmosphere, this story is a perfect amalgam of the sci-fi/fantasy/horror trio mentioned above.
"Scarlet Dream" is another story in which poor Northwest is sucked into an otherdimensional realm through no fault of his own. After purchasing an alien-made shawl in the Martian Lakkmanda Markets, Smith brings it back to his room, gazes at its intricate patterns, and is suddenly kerplopped into one of the most dreamlike fantasylands that any reader has ever encountered. Here, blue, green and violet mists continually drift; bloodsucking grasses caress one's passing feet; spigots supply the scant populace with blood; and the days pass in a languorous, lotusland dream. Smith spends an indeterminate span of time there with a young woman whose name we never learn, in a story that grows increasingly oneiric as it proceeds. A bravura piece of work from Catherine Lucille here.
"Dust of Gods" also transpires on Mars, with Smith and Yarol venturing to that planet's northernmost ice cap to discover the resting place where resides the actual remains of the Martian god Pharol. Never a pair to turn down a $50,000 commission, the two reach the suspected coordinates, open up a hidden tunnel, and actually do discover the remnants of the millennia-dead godhead. But a moral crisis of sorts looms for the two, in this hugely entertaining and imaginative thrill ride.
"Lost Paradise" finds Smith and Yarol back on Earth, having drinks high above the streets of NYC. After assisting a member of the ancient race of Seles--a lost culture in the Himalayas, apparently--when a valuable package of his is stolen, the two are vouchsafed a vision of the beautiful culture that had existed on Earth's moon millions of years before, and, in an ironic conclusion, learn what happened to turn the titular paradise into a pockmarked wasteland.
In "Julhi," Smith awakens in a pitch-black Venusian dungeon of sorts, in the deserted island ruin of Vonng. From there, he and a very frightened girl named Apri are precipitated into the otherdimensional realm of the title character, a one-eyed, feather-crested woman (?) who plumbs Smith's psyche and shares her alien experiences with him mentally. In a borderline psychedelic segment, Smith flies through the cosmos with her, sees her people at war, and participates in some kind of street rally, before forcing himself back to where he started. Boasting as it does the collection's most unusual alien as well as its most wildly imaginative moments, "Julhi" really is another great piece of work from Ms. Moore.
"The Cold Gray God" again finds Smith near the Martian pole, this time in snowbound Righa, where Judai of Venus, a famous female entertainer who had mysteriously disappeared many years earlier, hires our hero to steal a "little ivory box" from a local canalman. Ultimately, the secret of this mysterious chest, and of Judai's strange zombielike behavior, are revealed, in this increasingly frightening tale...one in which Smith is forced to fight for the possession of his own body with yet another of the elder Martian gods.
Taking the concept of alien female beauty to the nth degree is "Yvala," in which Smith and Yarol are hired by a slaving racket to investigate reports of lovely female sirens who have been spotted in the primeval jungles covering one of Jupiter's moons. After fighting off the slavering alien flora, our valiant pair does indeed discover a mysterious bevy of identical beauties, ruled over by the entity only known as Yvala...a creature so intensely beautiful that she drains the very life essence out of anyone who ventures near. Hard sci-fi takes a sharp turn into the realm of fantasy when Smith seems to discern the drained soul remnants of Yvala's previous victims; men whose spirits have reverted atavistically to earlier forms! Trust me, this is one wild ride here, brought to life in Moore's most compelling manner.
This Northwest Smith collection concludes with a short story that did not appear originally in the pages of "Weird Tales," but rather in the June '57 issue of "Fantastic Universe." "Song in a Minor Key" simply finds Smith laying on his back in a grassy field, happy to be on his home planet of Earth, and reflecting on the youthful incident that got him started on his lawless career. It is a sweet and gentle little coda that brings this remarkable collection to a close. But wait...there IS one more tale out there concerning Northwest Smith that did appear in "Weird Tales" originally (in the November '37 issue, to be exact) and that does not appear in this otherwise perfect anthology. That tale's name is "Quest of the Starstone," which Moore co-wrote with Kuttner, and which somehow unites, for the first and only time, the futuristic Smith and the medieval Jirel of Joiry! I hope to finally read this tale very shortly, but before I do, want to give another read to Ace's 1982 "Jirel of Joiry" collection. Like Shambleau, and Julhi, and Yvala, a little bit of C.L. Moore, as I've long known, can prove very highly addictive....
(By the way, this review originally appeared on the FanLit website at http://www.fantasyliterature.com/ ... a most ideal destination for all fans of C. L. Moore....)
October 6, 2012
I love the unabashed pulpiness, the lush and dangerous sexuality, the disquieting intimations of things man was not meant to know, the noirish sensibility, and the bittersweet texture of regret beneath all the manly adventuring. “Shambleau” would be a great story even without the killer last line, but it’s the regret and vulnerability in the last line that makes it unforgettable.
June 12, 2009
Northwest Smith is Moore's outer space adventurer. These stories are space opera, but with a heart and passion that is rarely scene in the genre. Moore's ability to create beautiful and sensous worlds is almost unmatched. Note, the later collection called Northwest of Earth has all these stories and some other bits and pieces, plus an introduction.
September 20, 2011
Admittedly, the style isn't for everyone. Moore plays in the same space as Leigh Brackett, with pulpish adventures in a habitable solar system featuring a dangerous, almost feral antihero. But while Brackett's writing is lean and efficient, Moore is more syrupy and tends towards purple prose, especially in scenes of phantasmagoria or extraplanar/extradimensional/dreamlike states. These scenes seem to appear in each story: Northwest Smith is subjected to such mind-blasting horror and outre experiences that it's a wonder he's not reduced to a gibbering idiot.
Rendered in such loving, slow detail, they do go on seemingly indeterminably, and it takes serious attention to keep track of the story.
The common thread among all of them is of Smith being lured into some "business arrangement" which turns out to be far more troublesome and Lovecraftian than expected. There's a degree of passivity to the circumstances which doesn't sit well with Smith being some kind of pirate and outlaw. That and all the monsters seem to want to suck out his soul or essence.
While nominally science fiction, there's an awful lot of alien gods and magic going on. It shares more characteristics with sword and sorcery, honestly.
Rendered in such loving, slow detail, they do go on seemingly indeterminably, and it takes serious attention to keep track of the story.
The common thread among all of them is of Smith being lured into some "business arrangement" which turns out to be far more troublesome and Lovecraftian than expected. There's a degree of passivity to the circumstances which doesn't sit well with Smith being some kind of pirate and outlaw. That and all the monsters seem to want to suck out his soul or essence.
While nominally science fiction, there's an awful lot of alien gods and magic going on. It shares more characteristics with sword and sorcery, honestly.
August 14, 2024
I read this whole collection before realizing the one story I wanted to read isn't actually in here. Oh well.
I actually really enjoyed this collection; despite being "classic" (by which I mean older than most of my grandparents), it's quite readable, immensely entertaining, and surprisingly thoughtful, both in philosophical and scientific areas. Of course, you'll have to deal with alot bit of pretty-female-as-plot-device syndrome, but bearing that in mind, this is still a worthwhile collection for any fan of pulp SF.
I actually really enjoyed this collection; despite being "classic" (by which I mean older than most of my grandparents), it's quite readable, immensely entertaining, and surprisingly thoughtful, both in philosophical and scientific areas. Of course, you'll have to deal with a
January 28, 2021
I was skeptical about Northwest Smith at first. After all, a space-faring, leather clad, ray-gun toting outlaw hero roaming the wild west-like streets of Venusian and Martian towns, or in the jungles of a moon of Jupiter? (Obviously, writers of the 30s weren’t encumbered by any real knowledge of what the solar system was like.) Well, the Northwest Smith stories are pulp fiction at its best, and I enjoyed the hell out of them.
That’s entirely because C. L. Moore’s remarkable writing lifts this material, complete with its male gaze and ethereally beautiful, compliant women, to an extraordinary level of descriptive power. Each of the stories in this Kindle edition delivers unforgettable supernatural adventure. And that despite the fact that they mostly follow the same pattern.
...
In each story, Smith loses his grip on reality and disappears into a trance or loses consciousness or travels deep into a transdimensional world that threatens to destroy him.
...
Every step of the way, Moore builds the tension of each adventure with her prose that itself becomes a mesmerizing force, and each climactic encounter with a terrible, life-sucking evil force never disappoints. Even though you know that Northwest will preserve some tiny corner of awareness and strong-willed resistance that will enable him to recover his humanity and fight back, it’s endlessly fascinating to let yourself be drawn into Moore’s long sentences that wind themselves into your mind.
Read the full review at SciFi Mind
August 5, 2011
Although Northwest Smith is not the most famous of Moore’s characters, he was the first. Even if not as cerebral as her work later in life her talent and vivacity come thorough nonetheless. Her focus on the protagonists emotional state was unusual for the time, and had obvious influences from other Weird Tails authors of the past, including image to H. P. Lovecraft, R. Howard and C. A. Smith. For a fan of “Old Mars” this should be as indispensable as Brackett or Bradbury.
October 2, 2012
Northwest Smith, legendary hero of the spaceways, is a 1930's style adventurer. He falls for the femme fatale nearly every time. But the ladies aren't always human and the adventures usually pit him against something dark and evil. It's pulp science fiction with a references to Greek Mythology and a lyrical language that surprised me.
September 25, 2013
Pulpy sci-fi adventures with a touch of the weird--closer to Lovecraft than Burroughs, but with its own unique flavor. Moore's prose is vivid and well-crafted, and Northwest Smith is a fascinating, ambiguous character that I would like to know more about. (I feel that way about Jirel of Joiry too; I wish Moore had written bucketloads more than she did!)
October 6, 2017
...because, amazingly, there are still some classics of science fiction I haven't read, and this was one of them.
Partway through I found myself wondering _why_ this was a "classic of science fiction." It has stfnal trappings, but it's basically a collection of sword-n-sorcery stories, written to a (fairly flexible, to be fair) formula.
Near the end I looked at the copyright information. With one exception (the one story that doesn't follow the formula), this stuff was written in the 1930s, before Campbell began editing _Astounding Science Fiction_. Science fiction, with rare exceptions, was pretty much like that in those days: monsters and maidens, and, often, monstrous maidens.
So this is pulp in all its glory. Given that, is it _good_ pulp?
Honestly, I have to give a mixed answer to that. Northwest Smith, the titular character, is not a very nice man; in one story, he enters service to some slavers to capture "sirens." That in and of itself is an unusual point in '30s SF; heroes of those stories were mostly pure of heart.
But the writing is pulpy and, in places, quite purple. Never so much so as to be unreadable, but enough so to be occasionally annoying to, at least, me.
I think I can no longer read (most) pre-Campbellian SF with anything like pleasure.
Owell, there's still lots of good stuff out there for me to catch up on.
Partway through I found myself wondering _why_ this was a "classic of science fiction." It has stfnal trappings, but it's basically a collection of sword-n-sorcery stories, written to a (fairly flexible, to be fair) formula.
Near the end I looked at the copyright information. With one exception (the one story that doesn't follow the formula), this stuff was written in the 1930s, before Campbell began editing _Astounding Science Fiction_. Science fiction, with rare exceptions, was pretty much like that in those days: monsters and maidens, and, often, monstrous maidens.
So this is pulp in all its glory. Given that, is it _good_ pulp?
Honestly, I have to give a mixed answer to that. Northwest Smith, the titular character, is not a very nice man; in one story, he enters service to some slavers to capture "sirens." That in and of itself is an unusual point in '30s SF; heroes of those stories were mostly pure of heart.
But the writing is pulpy and, in places, quite purple. Never so much so as to be unreadable, but enough so to be occasionally annoying to, at least, me.
I think I can no longer read (most) pre-Campbellian SF with anything like pleasure.
Owell, there's still lots of good stuff out there for me to catch up on.
July 20, 2017
Written in 1933, it still holds up today. It was recommended to me by Mike Resnick and I was surprised at the quality of a book that was so old in Science Fiction.
I would recommend this book to others and keep an open mind when reading it.
I would recommend this book to others and keep an open mind when reading it.
November 11, 2025
Συλλογή διηγημάτων "διαστημικού τρόμου" που κινούνται από το ενοχλητικά βαρετό ως το εξουθενωτικά αφόρητο. Αν θες να γράψεις γοτθικό τρόμο δε χρειάζεται να στείλεις έναν μάτσο τύπο στο Άρη...
Παρατίθενται όσες κριτικές άντεξα να γράψω για τα επιμέρους διηγήματα.
Scarlet Dream ⭐
Ο Νόρθγουεστ Σμιθ αγοράζει ένα κόκκινο σάλι που στους περισσότερους προκαλεί πονοκέφαλο, αλλά εκείνον τον βάζει σε έναν ονειρικό (βλ. εφιαλτικό) κόσμο, όπου α) προφανώς και θα ��υναντήσει μια όμορφη γυναίκα β) εννοείται ότι θα αποδράσει για να επιστρέψει στον κόσμο μας.
Μια μάλλον βαρετή υπόθεση μεταγοτθικού τρόμου, όπου το γεγονός ότι είμαστε στο μέλλον και στο διάστημα δεν παίζει κανένα ρόλο. Οι χαρακτήρες χλευάζουν την ίδια την έννοια της εξέλιξής τους, τίποτε δε βγάζει ακριβώς νόημα, δεν παίρνουμε καμία απάντηση («δε μπορώ να σου πω / δε θα καταλάβεις / σε βλέπω σαν φίλο / δεν είναι αυτό που νομίζεις»). Ο τρόμος δεν είναι ποτέ απτός και εμφανής, αλλά αυτό δε γίνετια με μαεστρικό τρόπο. Π.χ. στον Άρχοντα των Δαχτυλιδιών, ο ίδιος ο σκοτεινός άρχοντας (Σάουρον για τους φίλους) δεν εμφανίζεται ΠΟΤΕ (εξαιρώ ένα cameo πέρασμα μέσα σε ένα Palantir, που δε μετράει) και παρ’ όλ’ αυτά είναι διαρκώς στη σκέψη όλων (και του αναγνώστη), διατηρεί το μεγαλείο και τον τρόμο που εμπνέει μέχρι το τέλος. Εδώ, ο τρόμος είναι κάτι αόριστο, άνευρο, άγευστο και αδιάφορο, σαν χυλός βρώμης με κακές προθέσεις ή κομπλεξικός ακρυλικός αρμόστοκος με ροπή προς την επιθετικότητα.
Dust of the Gods ⭐
Ο Σμιθ και ένας φίλος του αναλαμβάνουν την αποστολή να βρουν τη σκόνη ενός θεού και να τη φέρουν σε ένα περίεργο εντολέα. Ακολουθεί μια εντελώς αχρείαστη περιπέτεια και ένας θεός ή ίσως και ένας κόσμος ολόκληρος (ή η ανάμνησή του) καταστρέφονται στις φλόγες ενός ακτινοβόλου.
Άλλη μια απόδειξη ότι ο γοτθικός τρόμος είναι λίγο πασέ, ιδίως όταν τοποθετείται στον Άρη, κάτω από τέτοιες συνθήκες. Η αφέλεια και η απλοϊκότητα δίνουν ρεσιτάλ, και το διήγημα δε σώζεται από τη γλώσσα και τις περιγραφές, καθώς η βαρεμάρα του αναγνώστη (αν αυτός είναι πάνω από 12 χρονών και έχει μεγαλώσει μετά το 1950) γνωρίζει κορυφώσεις που αν ήταν οργασμοί θα ανατίναζαν το σύμπαν.
Julhi ⭐
Όταν έχεις απολαύσει τα έργα που έγραψε η Moore μαζί με τον Henry Kuttner είναι δύσκολο να μην ξενερώσεις με τέτοιες μπαλαφάρες υπερφυσικού τρόμου, περίεργης εσωτερικότητας και… ασάφειας.
Ο Σμιθ βρίσκεται στο πουθενά προσπαθώντας να καταλάβει τι συμβαίνει και φυσικά πέφτει πάνω σε μια κοπέλα. Αυτή λειτουργεί σαν πύλη που φέρνει κόσμο στην Julhi, η οποία με τη σειρά της είναι μια πανέμορφη μονόφθαλμη (τύπου κύκλωπας) μορφή και έχει μεγάλα σχέδια για τον Σμιθ, αλλά τελικά πέρα από ένα ταξίδι που θυμίζει τριπ με φτηνό λυσεργικό οξύ ή ακόμη και σνιφάρισμα κόλλας, το μόνο που του κάνει είναι να τον δαγκώσει και μπαμπλαμπλα.
Βαρετό μέχρι θανάτου.
The Cold Gray God ⭐ ⭐
Ο Νόρθγουεστ έρχεται αντιμέτωπος με την πιο όμορφη γυναίκα του γνωστού σύμπαντος, η οποία του ζητάει να κλέψει κάτι για χάρη της υποσχόμενη μεγάλη αμοιβή. Μόνο που… δεν είναι αυτό που δείχνει. Στο τέλος βρίσκεται να παλεύει με μια απόκοσμη οντότητα για την ίδια του την ύπαρξη. Αν και η γραφή της C.L. Moore είναι συχνά λυρική και έντονα συναισθηματική, η ιστορία παραμένει σε μεγάλο βαθμό αόριστη και δύσκολη να παρακολουθήσει κανείς, με το ύφος της να θυμίζει περισσότερο μια φαντασία γεμάτη ατμόσφαιρα παρά μια δυναμική πλοκή.
Η κεντρική ιδέα, που περιλαμβάνει μια εξωγήινη θεότητα που προκαλεί τρόμο και αποξένωση, είναι σίγουρα ελκυστική στην θεωρία, αλλά στην πράξη, η ανάλυση του χαρακτήρα της θεότητας είναι επιφανειακή και δεν προσφέρει την ένταση που θα μπορούσε να έχει. Παρά τις δυνατότητες για ψυχολογική ή θεολογική διερεύνηση, η ιστορία σπαταλά τη δυναμική της πάνω σε φαινομενικά άσχετες σκηνές και μια κακή κλιμάκωση που αφήνει τον αναγνώστη απογοητευμένο. Θέλω να πω, είναι δυνατόν να την καίει απλώς με ένα φλογοπίστολο ένας γεrομπάρμαν;;;
Το μεγαλύτερο πρόβλημα με την ιστορία είναι ότι, ενώ προσπαθεί να δημιουργήσει ένταση μέσω του μυστήριου και της απειλής του κεντρικού «θεού», η πλοκή αποτυγχάνει να επενδύσει στο κατάλληλο βάθος. Όπως και η βασική του θεότητα, το έργο παραμένει ψυχρό και αδιάφορο, χωρίς να καταφέρνει να συγκινήσει ή να προκαλέσει κάποιο πραγματικό ενδιαφέρον για τους χαρακτήρες ή τα γεγονότα.
Η C.L. Moore σίγουρα έχει πλούσιο συγγραφικό ταλέντο, αλλά σε αυτήν την περίπτωση, το έργο της παραμένει ένα άβολο, ασαφές παραμύθι που δεν καταφέρνει να διατηρήσει την προσοχή του αναγνώστη. Όσοι αναζητούν μία πιο συναρπαστική ή συναισθηματικά φορτισμένη ιστορία θα βρουν στο "The Cold Gray God" μια απογοητευτική και επιφανειακή εμπειρία.
Αν και υπάρχουν κάποια ενδιαφέροντα στοιχεία, είναι σαφές ότι η ιστορία δεν καταφέρνει να δικαιολογήσει πλήρως την υπόσχεσή της, και το τελικό αποτέλεσμα αφήνει την αίσθηση του ανεκπλήρωτου.
Παρατίθενται όσες κριτικές άντεξα να γράψω για τα επιμέρους διηγήματα.
Scarlet Dream ⭐
Ο Νόρθγουεστ Σμιθ αγοράζει ένα κόκκινο σάλι που στους περισσότερους προκαλεί πονοκέφαλο, αλλά εκείνον τον βάζει σε έναν ονειρικό (βλ. εφιαλτικό) κόσμο, όπου α) προφανώς και θα ��υναντήσει μια όμορφη γυναίκα β) εννοείται ότι θα αποδράσει για να επιστρέψει στον κόσμο μας.
Μια μάλλον βαρετή υπόθεση μεταγοτθικού τρόμου, όπου το γεγονός ότι είμαστε στο μέλλον και στο διάστημα δεν παίζει κανένα ρόλο. Οι χαρακτήρες χλευάζουν την ίδια την έννοια της εξέλιξής τους, τίποτε δε βγάζει ακριβώς νόημα, δεν παίρνουμε καμία απάντηση («δε μπορώ να σου πω / δε θα καταλάβεις / σε βλέπω σαν φίλο / δεν είναι αυτό που νομίζεις»). Ο τρόμος δεν είναι ποτέ απτός και εμφανής, αλλά αυτό δε γίνετια με μαεστρικό τρόπο. Π.χ. στον Άρχοντα των Δαχτυλιδιών, ο ίδιος ο σκοτεινός άρχοντας (Σάουρον για τους φίλους) δεν εμφανίζεται ΠΟΤΕ (εξαιρώ ένα cameo πέρασμα μέσα σε ένα Palantir, που δε μετράει) και παρ’ όλ’ αυτά είναι διαρκώς στη σκέψη όλων (και του αναγνώστη), διατηρεί το μεγαλείο και τον τρόμο που εμπνέει μέχρι το τέλος. Εδώ, ο τρόμος είναι κάτι αόριστο, άνευρο, άγευστο και αδιάφορο, σαν χυλός βρώμης με κακές προθέσεις ή κομπλεξικός ακρυλικός αρμόστοκος με ροπή προς την επιθετικότητα.
Dust of the Gods ⭐
Ο Σμιθ και ένας φίλος του αναλαμβάνουν την αποστολή να βρουν τη σκόνη ενός θεού και να τη φέρουν σε ένα περίεργο εντολέα. Ακολουθεί μια εντελώς αχρείαστη περιπέτεια και ένας θεός ή ίσως και ένας κόσμος ολόκληρος (ή η ανάμνησή του) καταστρέφονται στις φλόγες ενός ακτινοβόλου.
Άλλη μια απόδειξη ότι ο γοτθικός τρόμος είναι λίγο πασέ, ιδίως όταν τοποθετείται στον Άρη, κάτω από τέτοιες συνθήκες. Η αφέλεια και η απλοϊκότητα δίνουν ρεσιτάλ, και το διήγημα δε σώζεται από τη γλώσσα και τις περιγραφές, καθώς η βαρεμάρα του αναγνώστη (αν αυτός είναι πάνω από 12 χρονών και έχει μεγαλώσει μετά το 1950) γνωρίζει κορυφώσεις που αν ήταν οργασμοί θα ανατίναζαν το σύμπαν.
Julhi ⭐
Όταν έχεις απολαύσει τα έργα που έγραψε η Moore μαζί με τον Henry Kuttner είναι δύσκολο να μην ξενερώσεις με τέτοιες μπαλαφάρες υπερφυσικού τρόμου, περίεργης εσωτερικότητας και… ασάφειας.
Ο Σμιθ βρίσκεται στο πουθενά προσπαθώντας να καταλάβει τι συμβαίνει και φυσικά πέφτει πάνω σε μια κοπέλα. Αυτή λειτουργεί σαν πύλη που φέρνει κόσμο στην Julhi, η οποία με τη σειρά της είναι μια πανέμορφη μονόφθαλμη (τύπου κύκλωπας) μορφή και έχει μεγάλα σχέδια για τον Σμιθ, αλλά τελικά πέρα από ένα ταξίδι που θυμίζει τριπ με φτηνό λυσεργικό οξύ ή ακόμη και σνιφάρισμα κόλλας, το μόνο που του κάνει είναι να τον δαγκώσει και μπαμπλαμπλα.
Βαρετό μέχρι θανάτου.
The Cold Gray God ⭐ ⭐
Ο Νόρθγουεστ έρχεται αντιμέτωπος με την πιο όμορφη γυναίκα του γνωστού σύμπαντος, η οποία του ζητάει να κλέψει κάτι για χάρη της υποσχόμενη μεγάλη αμοιβή. Μόνο που… δεν είναι αυτό που δείχνει. Στο τέλος βρίσκεται να παλεύει με μια απόκοσμη οντότητα για την ίδια του την ύπαρξη. Αν και η γραφή της C.L. Moore είναι συχνά λυρική και έντονα συναισθηματική, η ιστορία παραμένει σε μεγάλο βαθμό αόριστη και δύσκολη να παρακολουθήσει κανείς, με το ύφος της να θυμίζει περισσότερο μια φαντασία γεμάτη ατμόσφαιρα παρά μια δυναμική πλοκή.
Η κεντρική ιδέα, που περιλαμβάνει μια εξωγήινη θεότητα που προκαλεί τρόμο και αποξένωση, είναι σίγουρα ελκυστική στην θεωρία, αλλά στην πράξη, η ανάλυση του χαρακτήρα της θεότητας είναι επιφανειακή και δεν προσφέρει την ένταση που θα μπορούσε να έχει. Παρά τις δυνατότητες για ψυχολογική ή θεολογική διερεύνηση, η ιστορία σπαταλά τη δυναμική της πάνω σε φαινομενικά άσχετες σκηνές και μια κακή κλιμάκωση που αφήνει τον αναγνώστη απογοητευμένο. Θέλω να πω, είναι δυνατόν να την καίει απλώς με ένα φλογοπίστολο ένας γεrομπάρμαν;;;
Το μεγαλύτερο πρόβλημα με την ιστορία είναι ότι, ενώ προσπαθεί να δημιουργήσει ένταση μέσω του μυστήριου και της απειλής του κεντρικού «θεού», η πλοκή αποτυγχάνει να επενδύσει στο κατάλληλο βάθος. Όπως και η βασική του θεότητα, το έργο παραμένει ψυχρό και αδιάφορο, χωρίς να καταφέρνει να συγκινήσει ή να προκαλέσει κάποιο πραγματικό ενδιαφέρον για τους χαρακτήρες ή τα γεγονότα.
Η C.L. Moore σίγουρα έχει πλούσιο συγγραφικό ταλέντο, αλλά σε αυτήν την περίπτωση, το έργο της παραμένει ένα άβολο, ασαφές παραμύθι που δεν καταφέρνει να διατηρήσει την προσοχή του αναγνώστη. Όσοι αναζητούν μία πιο συναρπαστική ή συναισθηματικά φορτισμένη ιστορία θα βρουν στο "The Cold Gray God" μια απογοητευτική και επιφανειακή εμπειρία.
Αν και υπάρχουν κάποια ενδιαφέροντα στοιχεία, είναι σαφές ότι η ιστορία δεν καταφέρνει να δικαιολογήσει πλήρως την υπόσχεσή της, και το τελικό αποτέλεσμα αφήνει την αίσθηση του ανεκπλήρωτου.
February 11, 2019
“Hither came Northwest Smith, the earthman, sunburnt skin, paled-eyed, in spaceman’s leathers, a pirate, a smuggler, a gunslinger, facing life and death with an equal grin, to tread the back-alley bars and lost ruins of the solar system heatgun in hand.”
Northwest Smith is one of C.L. Moore’s two great early creations for Weird Tales. But where her Jirel of Joiry was straight sword and sorcery, Northwest Smith traverses Venus and Mars in spaceman’s leathers. He may have been an inspiration for Han Solo, but Northwest Smith definitely would have shot first. As he was walking in the door. Northwest may have as much in common with Jirel as he does Solo. This isn’t Campbellian science fiction, or even space opera. Northwest barely sets foot on a spaceship in-story, and the stories are thick with fantasy and horror elements. (The similarity to Moore’s Jirel stories also provide her Northwest Smith stories with their biggest weakness.)
Northwest netted Moore her first professional sale. The story is “Shambleau” and—what a way to start a career! I’ve read it a couple times and, even with a somewhat weak climax, “Shambleau” may be the best short story I’ve ever read. It showcases Moore at her best: rich, decadent prose, a story that straddles genres, and a creeping, existential, highly sexualized, subtle horror. Just check out this writing:
“And still it squirmed and lengthened and fell, and she shook it out in a horrible travesty of a woman shaking out her unbound hair—until the unspeakable tangle of it—twisting, writhing, obscenely scarlet—hung to her waist and beyond, and still lengthened, an endless mass of crawling horror that until now, somehow, impossibly, had been hidden under the tight-bound turban. It was like a nest of blind, restless red worms . . . it was—it was like naked entrails endowed with an unnatural aliveness, terrible beyond words.”
A few more stories like that and this collection (I have the Ace collection from October 1982 with the Baldwin brother on the cover) is worth the price of admission. Heck, “Shambleau” alone is worth the price of admission. The good news is that this volume does indeed contain stories like “Shambleau.” The bad news is that they are a little too much like “Shambleau.” And like Moore’s Jirel of Joiry stories, which themselves suffer from repetitiveness. Moore exceeded Robert E. Howard as a prose stylist and as a writer of Lovecraftian fiction, but she isn’t nearly as original in her storytelling. Moore is staler to me after two volumes of stories than Howard is after five.
Northwest Smith gets surprisingly little to do, and surprisingly little of it involves spaceships and smuggling, but he remains a relatively well known pulp character for a reason. He is an antihero at best: he saves Shambleau from a mob in the first story but takes a job for slavers in the (second-to-) last. He faces it all with a grin and an indomitable spirit. He enjoys segir whiskey and women more than a little but doesn’t have a weakness for either. His name bars him from his home planet (although two stories do take place on earth) and is synonymous enough with illegal activity that to say it is to signal the job you’re hiring him for is illicit. His name lives in infamy across the solar system but he still finds himself strapped for cash. He may or may not have a heart of gold, but there is definitely murder in it. He is the prototypical Western character but he is more Man With No Name than John Wayne.
As I mentioned above, I have an Ace volume of Northwest Smith stories. It is titled simply, Northwest Smith. The list of stories is below. They are not quite in publication order. It appears to only be missing the fanzine stories “Nymph of Darkness” and “Werewoman” and the Henry Kuttner collaboration and Jirel of Joiry crossover “Quest of the Starstone.”
Stories:
Shambleau
Black Third
The Tree of Life
Scarlet Dream
Dust of the Gods
Lost Paradise
Julhi
The Cold Gray God
Yvala
Song in a Minor Key
Northwest Smith is one of C.L. Moore’s two great early creations for Weird Tales. But where her Jirel of Joiry was straight sword and sorcery, Northwest Smith traverses Venus and Mars in spaceman’s leathers. He may have been an inspiration for Han Solo, but Northwest Smith definitely would have shot first. As he was walking in the door. Northwest may have as much in common with Jirel as he does Solo. This isn’t Campbellian science fiction, or even space opera. Northwest barely sets foot on a spaceship in-story, and the stories are thick with fantasy and horror elements. (The similarity to Moore’s Jirel stories also provide her Northwest Smith stories with their biggest weakness.)
Northwest netted Moore her first professional sale. The story is “Shambleau” and—what a way to start a career! I’ve read it a couple times and, even with a somewhat weak climax, “Shambleau” may be the best short story I’ve ever read. It showcases Moore at her best: rich, decadent prose, a story that straddles genres, and a creeping, existential, highly sexualized, subtle horror. Just check out this writing:
“And still it squirmed and lengthened and fell, and she shook it out in a horrible travesty of a woman shaking out her unbound hair—until the unspeakable tangle of it—twisting, writhing, obscenely scarlet—hung to her waist and beyond, and still lengthened, an endless mass of crawling horror that until now, somehow, impossibly, had been hidden under the tight-bound turban. It was like a nest of blind, restless red worms . . . it was—it was like naked entrails endowed with an unnatural aliveness, terrible beyond words.”
A few more stories like that and this collection (I have the Ace collection from October 1982 with the Baldwin brother on the cover) is worth the price of admission. Heck, “Shambleau” alone is worth the price of admission. The good news is that this volume does indeed contain stories like “Shambleau.” The bad news is that they are a little too much like “Shambleau.” And like Moore’s Jirel of Joiry stories, which themselves suffer from repetitiveness. Moore exceeded Robert E. Howard as a prose stylist and as a writer of Lovecraftian fiction, but she isn’t nearly as original in her storytelling. Moore is staler to me after two volumes of stories than Howard is after five.
Northwest Smith gets surprisingly little to do, and surprisingly little of it involves spaceships and smuggling, but he remains a relatively well known pulp character for a reason. He is an antihero at best: he saves Shambleau from a mob in the first story but takes a job for slavers in the (second-to-) last. He faces it all with a grin and an indomitable spirit. He enjoys segir whiskey and women more than a little but doesn’t have a weakness for either. His name bars him from his home planet (although two stories do take place on earth) and is synonymous enough with illegal activity that to say it is to signal the job you’re hiring him for is illicit. His name lives in infamy across the solar system but he still finds himself strapped for cash. He may or may not have a heart of gold, but there is definitely murder in it. He is the prototypical Western character but he is more Man With No Name than John Wayne.
As I mentioned above, I have an Ace volume of Northwest Smith stories. It is titled simply, Northwest Smith. The list of stories is below. They are not quite in publication order. It appears to only be missing the fanzine stories “Nymph of Darkness” and “Werewoman” and the Henry Kuttner collaboration and Jirel of Joiry crossover “Quest of the Starstone.”
Stories:
Shambleau
Black Third
The Tree of Life
Scarlet Dream
Dust of the Gods
Lost Paradise
Julhi
The Cold Gray God
Yvala
Song in a Minor Key
June 22, 2024
So I snagged this out of a desire to get on board a spaceship with another space outlaw in the vein of something like the star wars bounty hunter series or Resnick’s Santiago. Finishing these stories up, my initial thought was ‘Northwest Smith, I barely knew yah’.
These stories are by no means tales of outlaw/weird west in space-style adventures. Northwest himself, while the author tells me is a bastard, is not much of a bastard when he actually does things and otherwise I really know nothing about him (not in a fun mysterious way). Anytime some sort of criminal enterprise is mentioned the author brushes over it saying literally ‘im sure you can imagine the roguish activities. Lets get back to the story.’ No bar fights, smuggling missions, brawls, rakish trysts, or stumbled-upon secret plans, just a dude I’m told has scars and pretty eyes who is strongly implied to not fill out tax returns.
Why did I give this four stars then? Because after I realized these weren’t ribald space-farer tales I found out that Northwest Smith has a penchant for running into nameless entities from the void obsessed with creating the ideal ‘bad bitch’, ancient gods predating man who create planetary atmospheres in exchange for fresh meat, psychopaths who incidentally cause spatial distortions, jackass Venusians starting fires on the thrones of monsters, or literal mytholocal creatures on Mars (Shambleau is a deep cut nerd classic and I can totally see why, read it punk). Yeah, these are pulp lovecraftian suspense tales and Northwest is basically just a taciturn beefcake who finds himself perpetually tripping balls. While thats not why I sought this book out, it ended up being a total blast. Who doesn’t like tripping out a little bit from time to time?
Story 2 (Black Thirst) is legitimately one of the best what-in-the-fuck is happening & where-in-the-fuck am I stories Ive ever read. Truly a bonafide ‘banger’. I really wrote this review so that I would see it in the future and be reminded to reread it sometime, absolute masterpiece of weird fiction. 1st enjoyed at 4:30 in the morning on a bench at the DC airport too, which becomes its own form of haunted house when you’re delirious enough.
These stories are by no means tales of outlaw/weird west in space-style adventures. Northwest himself, while the author tells me is a bastard, is not much of a bastard when he actually does things and otherwise I really know nothing about him (not in a fun mysterious way). Anytime some sort of criminal enterprise is mentioned the author brushes over it saying literally ‘im sure you can imagine the roguish activities. Lets get back to the story.’ No bar fights, smuggling missions, brawls, rakish trysts, or stumbled-upon secret plans, just a dude I’m told has scars and pretty eyes who is strongly implied to not fill out tax returns.
Why did I give this four stars then? Because after I realized these weren’t ribald space-farer tales I found out that Northwest Smith has a penchant for running into nameless entities from the void obsessed with creating the ideal ‘bad bitch’, ancient gods predating man who create planetary atmospheres in exchange for fresh meat, psychopaths who incidentally cause spatial distortions, jackass Venusians starting fires on the thrones of monsters, or literal mytholocal creatures on Mars (Shambleau is a deep cut nerd classic and I can totally see why, read it punk). Yeah, these are pulp lovecraftian suspense tales and Northwest is basically just a taciturn beefcake who finds himself perpetually tripping balls. While thats not why I sought this book out, it ended up being a total blast. Who doesn’t like tripping out a little bit from time to time?
Story 2 (Black Thirst) is legitimately one of the best what-in-the-fuck is happening & where-in-the-fuck am I stories Ive ever read. Truly a bonafide ‘banger’. I really wrote this review so that I would see it in the future and be reminded to reread it sometime, absolute masterpiece of weird fiction. 1st enjoyed at 4:30 in the morning on a bench at the DC airport too, which becomes its own form of haunted house when you’re delirious enough.
May 13, 2020
What would you get if you took one part lovable rogue and space smuggler Han Solo, one part H.P. Lovecraft’s cosmic horror, and one part Robert E. Howard’s Conan, mixed them all up and shook with a pulp writing style that rivals the best works of it’s time? You’d get C.L. Moore’s Northwest Smith. The name of Northwest Smith is infamous from the steamy jungles of swampy Venus to the dusty canals of dying Mars and to every other far flung planet or asteroid in the solar system. A rogue, a scoundrel, a man outside the law but with his own code of honor. Smith has seen it all. Ancient legends come to life, horrific beings from beyond our universe that would drive a lesser man insane, the best and the worst that the space ways have to offer. And he’s blazed through it all with a hand on his blaster and a smile on his lips.
I can see why Moore was heralded as a possible successor to Howard to carry on the torch of sword and sorcery. I’ve read her Jirel of Joiry stories, but these are the ones that most put me in mind of the Weird Tales pulps. Hell, change the names, set it in the Hyborian age instead of on Mars or Venus, and give the hero a sword instead of a blaster, and most of these could be a convincing Conan story. From the inspiration for Medusa and the siren Circe, to forgotten gods and inter-dimensional horrors, this is pulp action at it’s best.
I can see why Moore was heralded as a possible successor to Howard to carry on the torch of sword and sorcery. I’ve read her Jirel of Joiry stories, but these are the ones that most put me in mind of the Weird Tales pulps. Hell, change the names, set it in the Hyborian age instead of on Mars or Venus, and give the hero a sword instead of a blaster, and most of these could be a convincing Conan story. From the inspiration for Medusa and the siren Circe, to forgotten gods and inter-dimensional horrors, this is pulp action at it’s best.
August 4, 2019
In hindsight, it would have been better to read these stories one at a time over several weeks instead of all at once. About half of them follow the same structure as the first, "Shambleau" — raygun for hire Northwest Smith encounters beautiful unearthly woman (or so she appears to be), succumbs to her charm, almost gets his soul sucked out. It works, but not in repetition read close together.
Smith himself is more of a loser than I remembered. Moore talks about how tough and dangerous he is, but he's not facing foes he can easily punch or gun down, so he spends a lot of the collection helpless and enthralled. In most of the stories, he needs someone else to save him. He's also a rather nasty piece of work, killing an innocent in one story (admittedly for good reasons) and trapping women for a slaver in another.
Still, this kind of old-school pulp is quite to my taste. Judged by the individual stories, I'd give it a five, but as a collection ..
Smith himself is more of a loser than I remembered. Moore talks about how tough and dangerous he is, but he's not facing foes he can easily punch or gun down, so he spends a lot of the collection helpless and enthralled. In most of the stories, he needs someone else to save him. He's also a rather nasty piece of work, killing an innocent in one story (admittedly for good reasons) and trapping women for a slaver in another.
Still, this kind of old-school pulp is quite to my taste. Judged by the individual stories, I'd give it a five, but as a collection ..
June 22, 2018
I enjoy C.L. Moore's stories, whether written by herself in her lush almost over-heated prose as in this book, or written with her husband, Henry Kuttner, who reined in any inclination to linguistic excess.
These are early stories beginning with the justly famous "Shambleau," which has appeared in both science fiction and horror anthologies, featuring the recurring character, Northwest Smith; fun adventures from the glory days of the pulp magazine Weird Tales.
Consider reading no more than one or two at a time. Moore was a young writer when publishing these, and hadn't developed her full bag of tricks. Meant to be read in the pages of a magazine, there is some repetition across stories.
These are early stories beginning with the justly famous "Shambleau," which has appeared in both science fiction and horror anthologies, featuring the recurring character, Northwest Smith; fun adventures from the glory days of the pulp magazine Weird Tales.
Consider reading no more than one or two at a time. Moore was a young writer when publishing these, and hadn't developed her full bag of tricks. Meant to be read in the pages of a magazine, there is some repetition across stories.
February 8, 2025
[3.5 stars]
"Pulp fiction" is a term that gets thrown around a lot (both in the SF world and in general) but I doubt that very many people today actually take the time to read any of the old genre stories that the phrase refers to. This collection of C.L. Moore's Northwest Smith stories is a great place to do just that, and it gives a nice picture of the space fantasies that predated the Campbellian focus on "hard" SF. I'd personally categorize most of Moore's yarns here as overwritten but they're not lacking in atmosphere and I think "Shambleau" in particular deserves its reputation as a canonical SF short story (and perhaps an interesting allegory for addiction).
"Pulp fiction" is a term that gets thrown around a lot (both in the SF world and in general) but I doubt that very many people today actually take the time to read any of the old genre stories that the phrase refers to. This collection of C.L. Moore's Northwest Smith stories is a great place to do just that, and it gives a nice picture of the space fantasies that predated the Campbellian focus on "hard" SF. I'd personally categorize most of Moore's yarns here as overwritten but they're not lacking in atmosphere and I think "Shambleau" in particular deserves its reputation as a canonical SF short story (and perhaps an interesting allegory for addiction).
March 4, 2021
I think the reason Northwest Smith was exiled from Earth is because he seems to attract evil amorphous powers from the depths of time and space (ones that have a tendency to look like incomparably beautiful women, no less) like he's wearing a sign that says "Get It Here".
The apex form of the Pulp Space Western, a little aged and worn and heavily-salted with descriptors. "Shambleau" remains a terrifying and sensual story.
The apex form of the Pulp Space Western, a little aged and worn and heavily-salted with descriptors. "Shambleau" remains a terrifying and sensual story.
December 9, 2022
I am really glad I picked up this collection of stories. They are really evocative of a specific style and time and it was a lot of fun to get to know Northwest Smith and his Venusian buddy Yarol. That said, the stories get pretty repetitive to the point where I could predict exactly what was going to happen - and usually it just meant Northwest would be in serious female-shaped eldritch-horror sort of trouble until he (or another character) shot the problem with his raygun. *shrug*
April 8, 2025
I read just the first story, Shambleau, to sample this. Stylistically pretty awful, far too wordy, and in the narrative everything is spelled out in the way of unsophisticated children's lit. But the central conceit is well done and it's meaning kept ambiguous enough to be interesting.
A nice short essay on that first story by B.D. McClay is online here.
A nice short essay on that first story by B.D. McClay is online here.
December 25, 2025
The stories are very good but also very samey. Northwest Smith gets himself into a hairy situation based on a vaguely Lovecraftian horror. Although instead of creature being so not-of-this world and terrifying to look at that it makes people go mad, we get a seductress that NEARLY makes him lose his mind until he finds it within himself to fight back.
Just have to take your time with it. Read a story every week or so and you won't be annoyed with how samey the stories are.
Just have to take your time with it. Read a story every week or so and you won't be annoyed with how samey the stories are.
June 21, 2024
4 or 5 stars for the story "Shambleu," but only 2 for the book overall, for the stories are too repetitive. A pity, though, that Moore never wrote a novel about Northwest Smith, something where she could have broken free of the pulpy constrictions of the stories.
Want to read
March 22, 2025I read and really enjoyed "Shambleau" from this collection. I'll come back to the rest sometime, when I'm in the right mood. Shambleau is excellent and has a fascinating back story - I am excited to read more C.L. Moore in the future.
June 11, 2025
This was written almost 100 years ago, so Things Have Changed. But if you want irresistible women on Venus, ancient civilizations on Mars, jungles on the moons of Jupiter, and space smugglers everywhere, this might be your book.
September 6, 2017
Tried very hard to like this but it was too boring.
September 4, 2020
One of my very favorite pulp authors!
March 9, 2024
Pulpy character having adventures in the old solar system where human, and human like, life could be found on all the inner planets. I like these because they remind me of Leigh Brackett, the queen of pulpy/noir sword and planet, but having finished the second story I've seen the differences.
So far these are sword and planet pulp/horror, we are running into some Lovecraftian shit here. I love the set up, but both of the first two stories devolve into internal wrestling with terror. Which is hard to pull off, all the ties to the concrete 'real world' are gone.
I love the recurring main character, which is harder for Leigh Brackett because a lot of her characters don't live, or aren't in a place they can go on in a meaningful way. Only Eric John Stark. These two should meet up sometime...hmmm.
Scarlet Dream. Another dreamy horror tinged interlude. I think what bugs my about these stories is that they are ungrounded from the Solar System setting. Which is well enough established for the author to take for granted and spend all her time in these dreamy, unreal pockets. Which is fine if that's your thing.
Third story 'Tree of Life', is pretty good. It has the same format, Smith meets eldritch horror and overcomes it. It's horrifying, because it is. The same reason that mundane things in a dream can be horrifying with no real reason. That is how all these have gone so far. I don't find that particularly riveting.
There are 13 Northwest Smith story, this collection is only 10 stories. I've read the whole thing before. Will I seek out those other stories or Jirel of Joiry, whose stories in my recollection follow much the same format with a female sword wielding protagonist? No, probably not.
Just finished 'Lost Paradise', another typically dreamlike sequence in which the will to survive of our hero NWS destroys an ancient culture, and then they kill a descendent in the present. Well, maybe you had to be there. The interesting bit here is that the story takes place, except the flashback-y bits, on Earth. New York to be exact. As with the Leigh Brackett stories I'm reading, CLM's milieu is super cosmopolitan. All sorts of aliens and off worlders are roaming about the streets and sky bridges of Manhattan. NWS is sitting with his buddy Yarol, a Venusian, and having a drink. Though these stories take place on the fringes, and the men she's writing about are on the wrong side of the law, there is a united world here. It's kinda nice, if less believable now even than it was then? At least arguably.
Just finished Juhli, and I have to say I do not connect with CL Moore. I just don't. I will finish these, and that setting of the old solar system is wonderful, the character is great, but I do not have any love for these dream like interludes that are the basis of these stories. I do not grok this. Somewhere there is an alternate world of tales, tales of Northwest Smith doing space smuggler shit instead of wandering through dreamworlds where he has little to no narrative drive. I would like those tales.
Near the end. This book has become a slog for me, yet I feel the need to finish it. Sigh. I've come to far he says, defining the sunk cost fallacy.
I do not care for CL Moore. Glad to be done with this.
So far these are sword and planet pulp/horror, we are running into some Lovecraftian shit here. I love the set up, but both of the first two stories devolve into internal wrestling with terror. Which is hard to pull off, all the ties to the concrete 'real world' are gone.
I love the recurring main character, which is harder for Leigh Brackett because a lot of her characters don't live, or aren't in a place they can go on in a meaningful way. Only Eric John Stark. These two should meet up sometime...hmmm.
Scarlet Dream. Another dreamy horror tinged interlude. I think what bugs my about these stories is that they are ungrounded from the Solar System setting. Which is well enough established for the author to take for granted and spend all her time in these dreamy, unreal pockets. Which is fine if that's your thing.
Third story 'Tree of Life', is pretty good. It has the same format, Smith meets eldritch horror and overcomes it. It's horrifying, because it is. The same reason that mundane things in a dream can be horrifying with no real reason. That is how all these have gone so far. I don't find that particularly riveting.
There are 13 Northwest Smith story, this collection is only 10 stories. I've read the whole thing before. Will I seek out those other stories or Jirel of Joiry, whose stories in my recollection follow much the same format with a female sword wielding protagonist? No, probably not.
Just finished 'Lost Paradise', another typically dreamlike sequence in which the will to survive of our hero NWS destroys an ancient culture, and then they kill a descendent in the present. Well, maybe you had to be there. The interesting bit here is that the story takes place, except the flashback-y bits, on Earth. New York to be exact. As with the Leigh Brackett stories I'm reading, CLM's milieu is super cosmopolitan. All sorts of aliens and off worlders are roaming about the streets and sky bridges of Manhattan. NWS is sitting with his buddy Yarol, a Venusian, and having a drink. Though these stories take place on the fringes, and the men she's writing about are on the wrong side of the law, there is a united world here. It's kinda nice, if less believable now even than it was then? At least arguably.
Just finished Juhli, and I have to say I do not connect with CL Moore. I just don't. I will finish these, and that setting of the old solar system is wonderful, the character is great, but I do not have any love for these dream like interludes that are the basis of these stories. I do not grok this. Somewhere there is an alternate world of tales, tales of Northwest Smith doing space smuggler shit instead of wandering through dreamworlds where he has little to no narrative drive. I would like those tales.
Near the end. This book has become a slog for me, yet I feel the need to finish it. Sigh. I've come to far he says, defining the sunk cost fallacy.
I do not care for CL Moore. Glad to be done with this.
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