Monthly Archives: June 2024

A Robotech Retrospective

Some of my earliest memories of watching anime are those with my dad. We would watch Speed Racer and Star Blazers in the small little apartment where we lived. Star Blazers, the rebranded and redubbed Spacebattleship Yamato, was perhaps my first brush with military science fiction, but I was too little at the time to really take it all in (that would come later). A few years later, Robotech came into my life thanks to the local channel running it in the mornings.

Transforming robots were all the rage then, and so Harmony Gold had imported three unrelated anime series from Japan and linked them together, starting with the Super Dimension Fortress Macross, then Super Dimension Cavalry Southern Cross, and finally rounding out the storyline with Genesis Climber MOSPEADA.   

While anime purists might balk at my love for this admittedly cobbled together franchise, as a kid in a rural part of Texas, I didn’t make that distinction. I just knew that when the credits rolled, I had just enough time to walk to school and not be late. Transformers might have been my afternoon show of choice, but Robotech started my day. Often I would be thinking about the episode that morning instead of paying attention in math or music class.

The show has left a lasting mark on me, so  today I thought I would go through the various ways it affected me back then as well as today.

The Story:

I was immediately struck by the similarities between Robotech and Star Blazers. Both featured a supership with an ultimate, spinal-mount weapon, squadrons of specialty fighters, and a protagonist with wild brown hair. Both series featured the forces of Earth fighting against humanoid blue-skinned aliens who fought in green techno-organic ships. Even the military uniforms had a similar look to them.

Of course, that’s largely where the similarities ended. Star Blazers was about saving Earth by retrieving a cure from a distant galaxy against all odds; Robotech, at least the Macross portion of the story, was about being separated from home and not being welcome once they returned.

Farewell, Big Brother

I found the narrative of the story compelling. It didn’t pull its punches the way that many contemporary American cartoons like Transformers and G.I. Joe did at the time. In a story about war, people died, and not just background characters. Roy Fokker definitely had main character energy, but he died by losing too much blood. Ben Dixon, one of Rick Hunter’s wingmen, died the very next episode. Most of the Earth gets scoured in a mass bombardment by the Zentraedi armada. With one exception, all of the bridge crew of the SDF-1 are killed in the final episode of the Macross saga. There are some really grim moments that underscored just how serious the situation and the stakes were to the characters. 

It felt like there were real consequences in that universe, real risks to life and limb, which I think was the first time I had a cartoon give me that when I was old enough to understand it. Any time I’m writing something about armed conflict, whether in sci-fi or fantasy setting, I immediately think back to how I can capture how I felt when I experienced that for the first time.

The Music:

I’ve always thought that any animated show needs three things to really stand out: A great story, great characters brought to life with a stellar voice cast, and a memorable score. Robotech definitely had all of that, but it really excelled at the last of those three. The musical score and the songs in Robotech were incredible, thanks to composers Arlon Ober and Ulpio Minucci. Many of them have places in the playlists I use to write today. If it’s been a while since you’ve heard them, or aren’t familiar with them at all, let me give you just a taste of what I mean:

  • Robotech Anthem: The main title music that also plays over various parts of the story. Magical.
  • Reflections: A very slow, somber version of Reba West’s “We Will Win.” It’s hauntingly beautiful.
  • Battlestations: This has a place of honor on my playlist entitled “Scramble Fighters.”
  • Zentraedi Theme: Another one of the “things have gone from bad to worse” tracks.
  • Desolation: This one gets played in the aftermath of tragedy. So, a lot.
  • Rick Hunter’s Theme: I really love this one. This is “the hero is on a roll” track.

There are so many corkers on the Robotech soundtrack, but I have to give one special props. I played this one just after I wrote the final line of my first novel, The Backwards Mask. It’s now become a tradition I’ve maintained that, when I complete a manuscript, I play this song: Mission Accomplished.    

The Novels:

Beyond just the episodes of the animated series, I was able to experience the story of Robotech through a series of short novels by Jack McKinney (a pen name of authors James Luceno and Brian Daley) released by Del Rey books. Often, these books were a scene-for-scene novelization of the episodes.

They could have been a straight adaptation of the show, but they went well beyond that. There were chapter insets that gave a little more explanation of the in-universe lore. They also attempted to fill in some of the cracks and plot holes that the animated series never addressed. They act as almost a deeper behind-the-scenes retelling of the story that gives us the thoughts and motivations of the main characters.

But again, they didn’t stop there. We also got the Sentinel novels, which took the unaired scripts from the Robotech sequel series and gave us stories in novel form that have never been made into episodes. Finally, we had an answer to what Admirals Rick Hunter and Lisa Hayes-Hunter got up to with the SDF-3 at the Robotech Masters’ homeworld. The series culminated with End of the Circle, which brings all three generations of Robotech heroes together for one last giant-sized adventure.

We also got the “Lost Generation” books which filled in the gaps, like the Malcontent Uprising, the Robotech Masters before they encountered the Armies of the Southern Cross, and a prelude to the devastating Invid invasion of Earth.

All told, the novels spoiled us with lots of extras we wouldn’t have found otherwise. I read them all, back-to-back, a few years ago and they hold up. It helps that I’m invested in the characters and setting, but they are a master class in tight writing to accurately describe both what we saw on the screen and all the things we didn’t.

The Game:

As I’ve stated elsewhere, Dungeons & Dragons was not the first TTRPG I played. I first entered that world on the Palladium/RIFTS/TMNT side of things. Well, Palladium games also had the Robotech license at the time. I collected all of the books I could find. While some of the information in them wound up being inaccurate or conflated, at the time it was the best resource I had for a deep dive into the mecha, the storyline, and the characters. The art by Kevin Long still stands in my mind as some of the best game art in any TTRPG supplement ever.

I had watched the series, then read about them, but here was my chance to step inside the universe with an original character. Unfortunately, I never got to play as an ace veritech pilot or destroid jockey. I did attempt to run a game in junior high, but it only went so far. My understanding of the material was still not there. Later on, in college, I wrote up this long campaign bible about how I could start a group of characters off at the launching day of the SDF-1 on Macross island and run them through adventures while the main story played out in the background. Then, once the REF came along, the characters would have a choice to either follow Rick and Lisa on their expedition into outer space or remain with the Southern Cross to defend planet Earth.

At that point, I was cross-referencing and collating everything from the animated series and the novels into one whole. I unfortunately never got to run it, as it would certainly take years of real-world time to give it a proper go. Still, I’m hoping that I’m able to do it one day. It’s definitely one for my bucket list.

The Legacy:

As I sit here in my writing office, I can look to the top of my bookshelves and see a generic beige veritech fighter in Gerwalk/Guardian mode. Behind that is Miriya Sterling’s distinctive red veritech in Battaloid mode. A bit behind that is a much larger veritech tank with an action figure-sized Dana Sterling in her Southern Cross armor sitting on its shoulder. A little farther down the way, I have M.A.C. II “Monster” next to some smaller ExoFrames-era destroids, as well as a bigger Excalibur and Gladiator. My G1 Jetfire is also up there, which is essentially a VF-1S model “Valkyrie” veritech. They are a part of my chorus of muses in amongst the Starrions, Transformers, and two incarnations of Voltron (lion and vehicle).  

Whenever I’m stuck on a problem or suffering from a bout of writer’s block, I can look up there and they are a reminder of the stories that influenced me early on. Beyond that, they are a personal reminder not to give up, no matter how hopeless or against the odds the situation at hand may seem.

I know that nostalgia is something that only gets stronger as one gets older, and it’s no different with me. I find, though, that the lessons that Robotech taught me about storytelling, facing adversity, and life in general aren’t just things that I reminisce about in distant memories of my childhood, but rather ones I find myself using pretty often in the present. And if that’s not a legacy, folks, I don’t know what is.

Thanks for reading!


Of Fantasy Dwarves and Unsung Heroes

[The last month or so has been turbulent here at Sector M to say the least. Consequently, this blog post is several weeks late. I plan to resume the normal schedule of posts in June starting on the 21st. Thank you for your patience.]

Like many readers around my age, my first introduction to fantasy dwarves was in The Hobbit. I first read it when I was eight years old. I remember that it was the first novel that I just couldn’t wait to get home from school to read. The scene where Thorin dies after the Battle of Five Armies also marks the first time I was ever moved to tears over something I read in a fictional story.

My original Avengers.

Since that day, I’ve always loved fantasy dwarves. Thorin and company gave me that first taste of high adventure, and I’ve never forgotten it. While fantasy dwarves are often depicted as half-pint Vikings who speak with Scottish accents, have over-the-top beard braids, and drink incessantly, there’s just something about them that appeals to me, both as a reader and author of fantasy. Since I created this blog to talk about the things I love, I thought I would share with you what appeals to me about them. I’m convinced that they are the unsung heroes of the fantasy genre.

Now before I get into the particulars, I want to make one thing clear: I’m speaking about fantasy dwarves, not people in the real world who have achondroplasia or other conditions that cause dwarfism. The dwarves I’m talking about are not human. While both Thorin Oakenshield and Tyrion Lannister are both labeled as dwarves in the pages of their respective stories, Tyrion is still a human, while Thorin is not.

“This is as far as you go.” (Art by Bob Kehl)

A Bulwark Against the Darkness: Depictions of dwarves in fantasy are pretty varied, but a few things seem to remain true in most tellings. They tend to be shorter than humans (thus the name) and live in wondrous underground kingdoms. They are generally resilient warriors who are masters at stonecrafting and metalworking. Their forges are often the envy of the rest of the world. They usually have longer lifespans than many other races except perhaps the elves.

While the elves tend to be the serene, idyllic beauties of the world, dwarves are rough around the edges, thick-limbed, with tempers that tend to be as fiery as their forges. They may not possess the grace and mystery of the elves, but they are usually forthright, honest, and noble in their hearts. They tend to keep their promises and stand by their word. Their focus is normally not on words and praise, but on actions. They are the do-ers of the world, pragmatic almost to a fault, and stalwart in the face of injustice.

Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria.

Unfortunately, their existence in the world has come at a great price. Both in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, we don’t see a thriving dwarven culture. In the cases of Erebor and Khazad-dûm, they are kingdoms that have been devastated and overrun by their enemies. A lot of other fantasy stories have followed suit with this. In the Elder Scrolls, the dwarves (which are really a tribe of elves) have left nothing behind but their ruins and mechanical constructs. In D&D, most adventurers find themselves exploring dwarven redoubts and fortresses from ages past that now lie in ruins. The refrain is that the dwarves were great builders even in ancient times, ranging far and wide, but that they had to abandon those edifications due to some tragic set of circumstances.

“Loyalty, honor, and a willing heart. I can ask no more than that.”

To me, this gives the dwarves a tragic and melancholic vibe, since in their centuries of life they may have witnessed the collapse of one or more of these great realms. They can be forgiven for being a bit dour when the dwarves we meet in fantasy are often the survivors of catastrophic events that may have reshaped the world, and not always for the better. They are often the ones who have taken the hit to keep the horrors of the subterranean from boiling up to the surface. To some degree this explains the line in the Song of Durin, speaking of the elder days, “Unwearied then were Durin’s folk.”

Songs of Stone: For a culture renowned for their skill and ferocity in battle, dwarves are better known for their crafts and art. Dwarven weapons and armor aren’t just utilitarian, they are often works of art. They are poets in steel and stone. Their homes are feats of engineering, often far beyond the scope of what other fantasy races can achieve.

Flint Fireforge by the inestimable Larry Elmore

What I think gets overlooked, however, is their skill as musicians. When it comes to harps in fantasy, it feels like those are more of an elven thing, but in both the Song of the Misty Mountain and the Song of Durin, we hear that the dwarves played the harp and sang in rich melodies beneath the mountains. You could imagine that their caverns would make natural acoustic spaces for their instruments and deep voices to be heard. 

There’s a family of singers on Youtube called Clamavi de Profundis. They have perfected the art of the dwarven song. They have put many of Professor Tolkien’s poems to music, but they have also created their own dwarven continuity in which to frame some original songs. They’re amazing, and here are some of my favorites that I highly recommend you give a listen:

A few honorable mentions for them (because they are just so awesome), though not specifically dwarven in theme are: Aragorn’s Coronation Song, The Song of Beren and Lúthien, Lament for the Rohirrim, the Lament for Boromir, and I Sit Beside the Fire and Think.  

Clamavi de Profundis gives us a glimpse into what a dwarven musical tradition might sound like along with the deep feelings they elicit. Dwarves in fantasy might have stony or stern exteriors, but their music and poetry hints at the hidden wells of emotion and hearts of gold that they possess at their core.

Strength in the Face of Adversity: Dwarven stubbornness is legendary. Rarely do we see dwarves give up or run away from a fight when the chips are down, regardless of the numbers arrayed against them or the odds. This makes them unwavering allies to have against whatever adversary our fictional fantasy protagonists face. In fact, normally, if a particular cause has the dwarves on its side, its odds of success have generally gone up dramatically.

It’s that unquenchable spirit that never quits, never gives in, and never gives up without a fight that earns them a special place in my heart. Dwarves are often a people who have stared down their own end without backing down. If anything, the looming shade of destruction seems to elevate their will and tenacity to epic levels.

“I may not look like an activewear model, but *I* carry the Golden Axe.”

I think part of this strength is due to how dwarven communities are portrayed. Most of the time, they are shown as being from an extended series of clans, which perhaps is where they inherited their Scottish accents. A clan is a family unit, but a much more expansive one, including potentially dozens of families. Dwarven enclaves are rarely shown to be made up of a single clan, and marriage between clans is (usually) common, meaning that a community of dwarves is not just a city of disparate individuals, but a collective extended family. When they go into battle to defend their homes, it’s their kinsmen that fight at their sides, which they would never dream of abandoning. They count on each other, both on and off the battlefield, in a way that perhaps a similar human or elven community might not.

In a world where they constantly face great opposition, they’ve learned to stick together, hold to their community, and fight for what they believe in, come what may. 

Final Thoughts: When I first saw Peter Jackson’s The Fellowship of the Ring, there’s the scene in Moria where the Fellowship finds itself having to fight the goblins and their cave troll in the Chamber of Mazarbul. Gimli has just realized that his cousin Balin has died only a few moments before. But that sorrow is quickly turned to rage when he leaps atop Balin’s tomb, an axe in each hand, and proclaims with a growl: “Let them come. There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath.” The first time I heard that line, I got goose bumps.

I had hoped that this would be Gimli’s moment to shine. Coming face-to-face with those who murdered his family, amongst the faded glory of the greatest dwarven kingdom in Middle-Earth, I figured it was time for Gimli to quickly dispense some much-needed dwarven justice. While Gimli definitely acquits himself well, the most memorable moments in the fight really come from Legolas. Even as incredible as that scene is, I had hoped it would be Gimli who threw down the cave troll or pulled off some incredible coup. But, it was the elf instead.

“That still counts as one.” (Art by Sebastian Giacobino)

Of course, Gimli gets plenty of chances to show his mettle in those movies, especially at Helm’s Deep, but the scene in Moria is where it felt like the dwarven warrior would have been the most inspired to reach heroic heights. But, Gimli’s efforts were largely overshadowed by his companions. And that, dear readers, is how I feel that the fantasy genre often treats dwarves; rarely do they get the spotlight, even when it would make sense, but they remain a solid and strong presence nonetheless.

But even if they rarely receive their due, they remain a compelling fantasy race whose story is constantly being told and retold by authors of each generation. True, they may be short, gruff, and aggressively Scottish at times, but whether you are watching them on screen, reading about them, or playing as one of them around a table or in a video game, they remain the backbone of the fantasy genre. 

Thanks for reading!