Ruritanian Romance (GUMSHOE all, King In Yellow)

Paul Alexis had evidently had a well-defined taste in fiction. He liked stories about young men of lithe and alluring beauty who, blossoming into perfect gentlemen amid the most unpromising surroundings, turned out to be the heirs to monarchies and, in the last chapter, successfully headed the revolts of devoted loyalists, overthrowing the machinations of sinister presidents, and appearing on balconies, dressed in blue-and-silver uniforms, to receive the plaudits of their rejoicing and emancipated subjects. Sometimes they were assisted by brave and beautiful English or American heiresses, who placed their wealth at the disposal of the loyalist party; sometimes they remained faithful despite temptation to brides of their own nationality, and rescued them at the last moment from marriages of inconvenience with the sinister presidents or their still more sinister advisers; now and again they were assisted by young Englishmen, Irishmen or Americans with clear-cut profiles and a superabundance of energy, and in every case they went through a series of hair-raising escapes and adventures by land, sea and air. Nobody but the sinister presidents ever thought of raising money by the usual financial channels or indulging in political intrigue, nor did the greater European powers or the League of Nations ever have anything to say in the matter. The rise and fall of governments appeared to be by a private arrangement ...

Dorothy L. Sayers, Have His Carcase  

In a spacious meeting room overlooking the courthouse in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., a vision to “save Haiti” took shape. The $83 billion effort would reinvent the Western Hemisphere’s poorest nation, lavishing it with roadways, electricity grids, seaports and airports.

Haiti’s new dawn, attendees at the May 12 meeting were told, would be led by Christian Emmanuel Sanon — a 63-year-old Haitian American and self-described pastor and physician now detained in Haiti in connection with the investigation into the audacious assassination of Haitian President Jovenel Moïse.

Sanon’s stated mission during that gathering: Turn “Haiti into a free and open society,” said Parnell Duverger, 70, a retired professor who attended the Fort Lauderdale presentation and had drafted the redevelopment plan pitched by Sanon ... 

The revelations of a grand plan to rebuild Haiti backed by Sanon and others — as well as the draft contract and list of costs obtained by The Post — add a new financial dimension to the roiling investigation into a presidential slaying that has upended the fragile Caribbean state, leaving it rudderless amid a leadership squabble. Haitian and Colombian authorities, along with the FBI and Interpol are scrambling to unravel a cast of suspects that they say includes a former Drug Enforcement Administration informant nicknamed “Whiskey,” an opposition politician, Colombia mercenaries and Haitian Americans from South Florida ...

Washington Post, Records reveal how Haitian American held in assassination probe financed a ‘personal security’ team

plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose 

Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr, The Wasps. Translation: the more it changes, the more it's the same thing.

Marx Brothers, Hail Hail Freedonia

A Ruritanian romance is a peculiarly 19th century phenomenon that occasionally resurfaces today. At its heart it's a yearning for Daddy. Through no real virtue on Daddy's part, beyond birth and a certain charm, Daddy establishes himself on the Ruritanian throne and all is well again. Nobody ever asks whether Daddy is the right man for the job, or whether the country was better off without Daddy on the throne. Nor does anyone insinuate that a usurper, whoever it may be, might be challenged by other nations. It's accepted as a fait accompli. Daddy's home. Nobody questions Daddy.

Similarly Christian Emmanuel Sanon seems to have believed nobody would challenge him once he attained the throne - beg pardon, the presidency. He doesn't seem to have had a plan for establishing control of the country, or opening new relations with Haiti's neighbors, never mind the United States. Nor did he really have a plan for paying for it, beyond taking out a mountain of debt and trusting to his ability to raid the country's coffers once established. A very 45 way of looking at the world; I have to wonder who Sanon was expecting to win the 2020 election.

There have been many versions of Ruritania over the years, from the Marx Brothers' Freedonia to Robin Laws' King in Yellow, itself inspired by Robert W. Chambers' version of a Ruritanian version of New York in which modernity (and representative democracy) is vanquished and replaced by Imperial Dynasties. 

One morning early in May I stood before the steel safe in my bedroom, trying on the golden jewelled crown. The diamonds flashed fire as I turned to the mirror, and the heavy beaten gold burned like a halo about my head. I remembered Camilla's agonized scream and the awful words echoing through the dim streets of Carcosa. They were the last lines in the first act, and I dared not think of what followed—dared not, even in the spring sunshine, there in my own room, surrounded with familiar objects, reassured by the bustle from the street and the voices of the servants in the hallway outside. For those poisoned words had dropped slowly into my heart, as death-sweat drops upon a bed-sheet and is absorbed. Trembling, I put the diadem from my head and wiped my forehead, but I thought of Hastur and of my own rightful ambition ...

A version of the Ruritanian romance turned bad that I have long wanted to see and have read several times is The Empire Builders, a play by Boris Vian. A respectable bourgeoise family led by Daddy flees a strange, unknown and terrifying Noise, running further and further upward as the stairs, rooms, apartments below vanish - or are absorbed. They pretend nothing is truly wrong. 

Yet always ahead of them, with them, haunting them is the Schmürz. The audience is never certain what the Schmürz is, and the cast pretend it does not exist, though when they think nobody's looking they kick, whip and torment it as though it were the cause of all their troubles. Yet nothing rids them of the Schmürz. 

MadLab Theatre, Columbus Ohio

Though a Ruritanian Romance horror plot has many echoes of Pulp I think it would be better played Purist, and The Empire Builders is the reason why. That slow collapse of established order; the grinding, inescapable Noise; the omnipresent Schmürz.

At its heart Purist is an inescapable doom. There is no killing Cthulhu, any more than Daddy can smash the Schmürz.  

So, what three things hide at the center of a Ruritanian plot?

1. Daddy's In Charge. There's someone who ought to be on the throne - and it is a throne, whether or not deluded thinkers call it a presidency - and currently is not. The central focus of the plot is to put Daddy back on the throne.
2. Simpler Times. Aspects of modern life that Daddy doesn't like get pushed aside. It's a lot like living in a Studio Ghibli setting. Old fashioned, virtuous, and not a whiff of modern ways beyond maybe the radio, rotary aircraft or funky robot ninjas. Nobody ever asks whether indoor plumbing has been invented yet or where Porco Rosso keeps his latrine, probably because they wouldn't like the answer.
3. Wicked Viziers. Sometimes called Presidents, Councilors, Prime Ministers or similar. These are the forces keeping Daddy from the throne. They represent all that is wrong with modern life, and must be swept aside so Daddy can take charge. 

Turn that Purist and make it a horror plot, and you have:

1. Daddy's On The Run. Maybe Daddy still has hopes of regaining the throne, but right now it's time to beat feet. If you're a little slow, a little late, it will go very badly for Daddy - and by extension, for you.
2. Times They Are a-Changin'. Black is now white. Dogs and cats, living together. Whatever was accepted as the norm is now completely and utterly other. Things are out of place, zeppelins fly overhead, Azimov's rockets are gearing up for launch to the stars. Lethal injection chambers in every public square. It's a new dawn, a new day - but Big Brother has replaced Daddy, and His eye is always on you. What is that peculiar Noise?
3.  The Schmürz. Your sins follow you like flies on garbage. Always one step ahead, they greet you at every turn. You can beat them, punish them, blame them for your misfortunes but they cannot, will not die. The next door you open, there they are. In King In Yellow terms a Schmürz has a lot in common with a Walking Corpse (p166 Paris book) except it cannot truly die and has no attacks to speak of. It exists to be attacked and is indifferent to attacks - but it is always there. 

That's it for this week. Enjoy!   

Getting Ideas (RPG General)

A short while ago I gave an interview to YSDC about my experiences with Bookhounds of London. You may have heard it by now - I hope you enjoyed it!

I talked about my scenario writing methods, and I figure now is as good a time as any to deep-dive. In the interview I said I go to my research library, dig out a likely-looking tome, and see what I can borrow from it. Some of you may wonder how to build a library like that. Well, the answer's simple enough. In any library there are going to be some core texts and some useful but not vital ones, and the core texts will vary depending on what you want to achieve.

A lot of my work delves into the fantastic and mystical, so my core texts are:

Standard Dictionary of Folklore and Legend, Funk & Wagnalls. It's a little on the dusty side. My copy's the 1984 version, but it was originally compiled in the 40s and 50s and some of its language choices reflect that. However there's nothing else quite like it out there, so until someone does a better job I'll stick with it.

New Larousse Encyclopedia of Mythology, 1989, Hamlyn Publishing. Again, a little on the dusty side but thankfully much better organized than Funk & Wagnalls.

The Lore of the Land, a Guide to England's Legends, Westwood & Simpson, Penguin, 2006. Much less dusty, and reasonably well organized.

Past Worlds, the Times Atlas of Archaeology, 1993 Times Books. Again, a little dusty but there's so much here for the amateur, and it's explained clearly.

That provides a decent basis. What follows next depends on what I'm working on. I tend to do a lot of work in settings closely aligned to the UK and US circa 1920, so I've got things like Jimmy Durante's book on Nighclubs cheek by jowl with Mayhew's compendium of London Underworld lore. If I had a good research library close by I'd rely on that, but I don't, so I collect the things I need whenever I can get them.

This involves a lot of second-hand bookshopping, as well as regular visits to the National Trust jumble sale.

A quick word about our local National Trust. It looks after historic sites, maintaining them as best it can. To do this it needs a constant influx of money, and one of its charitable exercises is its yearly auction & jumble sale, which includes a decent book collection. The Trust takes in donations, and sells them to whoever will buy. Anything not sold is thrown away, so I try to rescue what I can. Yes, I said thrown away. It's a small island. Nobody has warehouse space, least of all the National Trust.

You can sometimes find some very odd things in those sales. I'm going to base the rest of this post on an item found in the last rummage: Bohemian and Social Life in Paris (Salons, Cafes, Studios) by Sisley Huddleston, Harrap & Co, 1928. It talks about Paris in the 1920s, with a heavy dash of pre-war and 1890s Paris to leaven the loaf. Huddleston first went to France to edit a British army newspaper, later settling in Paris and eventually Normandy. He's also written a book about Normandy which I wouldn't mind getting hold of; it sounds interesting. He turned Vichy during the Second World War and was briefly imprisoned by the Free French.

Point being with this and many of the books I pick up: it's a period piece. Sisley talks about things that were important to him and his at the time, because he was there at the time. It's the closest thing to a primary source that I'm going to get.

The pieces I'll quote now come from the opening chapters:

Or that other Chicago merchant who not only collected pictures by old masters, but dabbled himself in painting. (I have known a number of men and women who have come to Paris after a strenuous life of business and who in a spirit of emulation have suddenly decided to become artists.) My friend was looking at his collection. He was attracted by a certain picture.

"That," said he, "is almost like a Corot. Why, it must be a Corot. And yet it cannot be a Corot. How curious! There is much in it that reminds me of Corot, but then again - no, it cannot be."

"You are right," was the response. "it is a Corot. Only, I have just touched up the sky a little."

Or this piece about nightly entertainments.

Again, at Montmartre the party is shown a 'cabaret' which is also the 'private property of _________.' Needless to say the cabaret is not open except for the express purpose of this visit. The chansonniers are specially hired. The men wear long, flaxen wigs, baggy trousers, flowing neckties; and the girls wear red aprons, and their false hair is arranged in a golden casque. These things are expected, and they are supplied. 

Still, it was just as bad before the War, when the Tournee des Grand-Ducs was in vogue. The Russians - whether Grand Dukes or not - and the rest were conducted to faked apache dens. There were red-aproned, golden-casqued girls, and the sinister looking Apache with caps drawn over their eyes. In the course of the dancing a quarrel would break out. A duel with knives would be fought. The Grand Dukes had their money's worth of thrills, and then the girls took off their aprons and the men donned respectable hats and went quietly home to bed.

The obvious use for these snippets is a Paris-based game, so Dreamhounds of Paris, or perhaps King In Yellow. If I was working on either of these settings I'd probably turn to a source like Sisley for inspiration. However there's no reason why I should restrict myself to Paris. These are ideas; ideas can be used anywhere.

So what's at the core of both these ideas?

1. An overweening rich man with artistic ambitions ruins an original by touching it up, pretending to more skill than he actually has. 
1. Imagine being the expert who has to judge whether that really is a Corot, a question that could mean millions. A genuine masterpiece - or a fake? 
2. A fake Paris is more valuable than the real thing, at least to tourists. 'These things are expected, and they are supplied' - now there's a sentence!

Let's take these ideas to Eversink and play with them there.

Swords of the Serpentine is a fantasy setting in which the glittering jewel that is the city of Eversink is everyone's goal. If you're rich, that's where you want to be - to flaunt your wealth. Tourists flock there every year, eager to see the latest, the best, the craziest thing Eversink has to offer.

So let's talk story ideas.

Genius
A Caprian trader whose wealth comes from alchemical supplies sales (though she doesn't practice alchemy herself) comes to Eversink and, within months, establishes herself as a society doyenne. She has money to burn and wants above all else to acquire that veneer of sophistication that can only come with being a big noise in Eversink.

As part of this self-improvement scheme she dabbles in art and purchases several great works, prizing above all else the landscapes painted by Leonine D'Quinto, a renowned painter of Eversink's glories as they were several hundred years ago. As the trader fancies herself a genius in her own right, she touches up her purchases to better fit her own artistic vision.

This angers the ghost of the great D'Quinto, who goes looking for someone to help him take revenge on this philistine trader. Enter the heroes.

Twist - ghost of D'Quinto? Not hardly. D'Quinto's statue still graces the mansion it was placed in, though that long-abandoned manse is sinking away. No, the ghost is actually forger Gino Boniface who took great pride in his ability to capture D'Quinto's style. The last thing Gino wants is for some sniveling parvenu to ruin the forgeries he took such care to make.

Perilous Opinion
[Either one of the heroes possesses the necessary ability/reputation to value art, or they are hired as bodyguards by one who does.]

A Caprian trader and collector of D'Quinto masterpieces wishes to show off her collection in a specially built gallery, but there is some question as to the art's provenance. In order to bolster her collection's reputation she brings in a proven D'Quinto expert to show Eversink that her collection is not only genuine but the most magnificent collection of D'Quintos ever established in one place.

Problems arise when the expert discovers that the trader has been adding her own personal touches to the D'Quintos. Specifically, she has been adding herself to each crowd scene. It's moderately subtle, but it's there, and each time she does it she drastically devalues the D'Quintos.

The expert ought by rights to expose this fraud. However the trader is backed by the Thieves' Guild and is too valuable to them to be insulted by an art expert. If the expert is to speak freely, he will need protection. Enter the heroes.

Mysteries of Temple Market
Temple Market is known for its high-end restaurants and its mysterious mansions. One daring entrepreneur intends to capitalize on both, and operates the latest sensation: The Lady.

The Lady offers a dining experience. Located in the basement of one of the Market's more obscure mansions, it capitalizes on a near-forgotten murder that took place there two generations prior. Each night at the Lady they recreate the fateful night, and ask patrons to decide who, of the pool of suspects, murdered Eliana Vespacci, newly wedded bride of the Vespacci heir. The family bitterly object to this ruthless monetization of their tragedy, but lack the resources to oppose the Lady directly.

Indirectly, though ... perhaps some money-grubbing heroes could be persuaded to break up the Lady.

Enjoy!