The Hedgehog by Saki

SFFaudio Online Audio

One can easily imagine a story like this actually happening at an upper-crust English country seat like the fictional Downton Abbey – Ruth Golding’s fabulous narration is spot on for this cute little “ghost story” by Saki.

LibriVoxThe Hedgehog
By Saki; Read by Ruth Golding
1 |MP3| – Approx. 15 Minutes [UNABRIDGED]
Publisher: LibriVox
Published: 2012
The busybodies at a vicarage garden party invite a one Miss Ada Bleek, from the “Society for Psychical Research”, to have a bit of a snoop at their local ghosts – she finds a very large and rather pale one.

And here’s a five page |PDF| version.

Posted by Jesse Willis

Solomon Kane’s Homecoming by Robert E. Howard

SFFaudio Online Audio
Solomon Kane's Homecoming by Robert E. HowardFirst published in Fanciful Tales of Time and Space, Fall 1936.
Mr Jim Moon narrates this poem |MP3| by Robert E. Howard.

Here’s a |PDF| made from that publication.

Solomon Kane’s Homecoming by Robert E. Howard

The white gulls wheeled above the cliffs, the air was slashed with foam,
The long tides moaned along the strand when Solomon Kane came home.
He walked in silence strange and dazed through the little Devon town,
His gaze, like a ghost’s come back to life, roamed up the streets and down.

The people followed wonderingly to mark his spectral stare,
And in the tavern silently they thronged about him there.
He heard as a man hears in a dream the worn old rafters creak,
And Solomon lifted his drinking-jack and spoke as a ghost might speak:

“There sat Sir Richard Grenville once; in smoke and flame he passed.
“And we were one to fifty-three, but we gave them blast for blast.
“From crimson dawn to crimson dawn, we held the Dons at bay.
“The dead lay littered on our decks, our masts were shot away.

“We beat them back with broken blades, till crimson ran the tide;
“Death thundered in the cannon smoke when Richard Grenville died.
“We should have blown her hull apart and sunk beneath the Main.”
The people saw upon his wrist the scars of the racks of Spain.

“Where is Bess?” said Solomon Kane. “Woe that I caused her tears.”
“In the quiet churchyard by the sea she has slept these seven years.”
The sea-wind moaned at the window-pane, and Solomon bowed his head.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and the fairest fade,” he said.

His eyes were mystical deep pools that drowned unearthly things,
And Solomon lifted up his head and spoke of his wanderings.
“Mine eyes have looked on sorcery in dark and naked lands,
“Horror born of the jungle gloom and death on the pathless sands.

“And I have known a deathless queen in a city old as Death,
“Where towering pyramids of skulls her glory witnesseth.
“Her kiss was like an adder’s fang, with the sweetness Lilith had,
“And her red-eyed vassals howled for blood in that City of the Mad.

“And I have slain a vampire shape that sucked a black king white,
“And I have roamed through grisly hills where dead men walked at night.
“And I have seen heads fall like fruit in a slaver’s barracoon,
“And I have seen winged demons fly all naked in the moon.

“My feet are weary of wandering and age comes on apace;
“I fain would dwell in Devon now, forever in my place.”
The howling of the ocean pack came whistling down the gale,
And Solomon Kane threw up his head like a hound that sniffs the trail.

A-down the wind like a running pack the hounds of the ocean bayed,
And Solomon Kane rose up again and girt his Spanish blade.
In his strange cold eyes a vagrant gleam grew wayward and blind and bright,
And Solomon put the people by and went into the night.

A wild moon rode the wild white clouds, the waves in white crests flowed,
When Solomon Kane went forth again and no man knew his road.
They glimpsed him etched against the moon, where clouds on hilltop thinned;
They heard an eery echoed call that whistled down the wind.

Solomon Kane's Home-Coming

Posted by Jesse Willis

The Owls by Charles Baudelaire (translated by Clark Ashton Smith)

SFFaudio Online Audio

The Owls by Charles Baudelaire, translated by Clark Ashton Smith

From Weird Tales, November-December 1941. Listen to Mr Jim Moon‘s great narration of this poem by Charles Baudelaire |MP3|.

Though credited as having been translated by one “Timeus Gaylord” we are reliably informed that this was a pseudonym of Clark Ashton Smith.

The Owls
By Charles Baudelaire, translated by Clark Ashton Smith

In shelter of the vaulted yews,
Like alien gods who shun the world,
The flown owls wait with feathers furled;
Darting red eyes, they dream and muse.

In rows unmoving they remain
Till the sad hour that they remember,
When, treading down the sun’s last ember,
The towering night resumes its reign.

Their attitude will teach the seer
How wise and needful is the fear
Of movement and of travailment;

For shadow-drunken wanderers bear
On all their ways the chastisement
Of having wished to wend elsewhere.

Posted by Jesse Willis

Riya’s Foundling by Algis Budrys

SFFaudio Online Audio

Riya's Foundling by Algis Budrys

Julie Hoverson recently recorded Riya’s Foundling. It’s a little Science Fiction gem from the hands of Algis Budrys and the pages if Science Fiction Stories, #1 (1953).

It’s a story about an intelligent cow (actually a cow-like alien being) that adopts a young human calf.

I’m not very much interested in the earthbound setup – frankly it’s weak – but there’s something very Alfred Besterian about the writing and the alien POV is really fascinating (and somehow familiar).

Here’s the audio, |MP3| Approx. 19 Minutes [UNABRIDGED]

And here’s the |PDF| version!

Posted by Jesse Willis

Kubla Khan or a Vision of Dream by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (read by Wayne June)

SFFaudio Online Audio

Kubla Khan is a wondrous dream inspired poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Written in 1797, but published in 1816, it is said to have been composed one night after Coleridge had been taking opium and reading a work describing Xanadu (the summer palace of the Mongol ruler and Emperor of China, Kublai Khan).

The way the great narrator Wayne June reads it you can almost feel the narcotic vapours enveloping you in their ethereal somnifacience.

After you’ve astral projected into the audio, feel free to grab hold of this ever so slighty more tangible |PDF|.

Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And here were gardens bright with sinuous rills
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!

And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced;
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
And ‘mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And ‘mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves:
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight ‘t would win me
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Kubla Khan illustrated by Dugald Walker

Posted by Jesse Willis

Pulp Crazy: Panels from the first World Fantasy Convention, 1975

SFFaudio Online Audio

Pulp CrazyJason Aiken’s Pulp Crazy is a video (and audio) podcast, and blog “dedicated to spreading the word on classic pulp literature.” It mostly features brief reviews of pulp stories and characters, but a recent show pointed me to some previously unknown material!

This |MP3|, podcast on September 27, features a pair of panels recorded at the first World Fantasy Convention in 1975.

Podcast feed: http://pulpcrazy.com/podcast/rss.xml

Here’s the official description:

This video features two panel discussions recorded at the First World Fantasy Convention, held in Providence, Rhode Island (home of the late H.P. Lovecraft) in 1975. The first panel features fantasy & horror authors speaking about how they came to write fantasy and supernatural fiction. Moderated by cartoonist Gahan Wilson, authors include Joseph Payne Brennan, Robert Bloch, Frank Belknap Long and Manly Wade Wellman (speaking in that order). All authors on this panel were published by Arkham House.

The second panel discussion is about fantasy and supernatural horror publishing. It is again moderated by artist & cartoonist Gahan Wilson, the speakers include publisher Donald A. Wollheim and author Robert Bloch.

The audio was recorded in October 1975 by and for Myrddin Press, which published the fanzine Myrddin. The recordings were made with a Sony monophonic cassette recorder, and parts of it appeared on a paper-thin flexible vinyl disc that came with the third issue of Myrddin. The three files uploaded here contain the clearest and most interesting portions from the tapes. Much of the rest is inaudible.

Panel discussion on how authors got their start |MP3|
Publishing and writing discussion, with emphasis on the business end |MP3|
Fantasy publishing discussion, part 2 |MP3|

Myrddin Three edited by Lawson W. Hill

Posted by Jesse Willis