Synopsis: The beauty of a woman is the spark that fires up a bloody and lengthy war between Greece and Troy. Though many of the figures in the battle have entered into legend, a version of the story as recounted by the great poet Homer reveals the involvement of three travellers who emerged from a blue box and changed the course of the war.
- 1. Homer Remembers
- 2. Zeus Ex Machina
- 3. Hector Forgets
- 4. Enter Odysseus
- 5. Exit the Doctor
- 6. A Rather High Tea
- 7. Agamemnon Arbitrates
- 8. An Execution is Arranged
- 9. Temple Fugit
- 10. The Doctor Draws a Graph
- 11. Paris Draws the Line
- 12. Small Prophet, Quick Return
- 13. War Games Compulsory
- 14. Single Combat
- 15. Speech! Speech!
- 16. The Trojans at Home
- 17. Cassandra Claims a Kill
- 18. The Ultimate Weapon
- 19. A Council of War
- 20. Paris Stands on Ceremony
- 21. Dungeon Party
- 22. Hull Low, Young Lovers
- 23. A Victory Celebration
- 24. Doctor in the Horse
- 25. A Little Touch of Hubris
- 26. Abandon Ship!
- 27. Armageddon and After
This now nabs the record held so briefly by Marco Polo for the most number of chapters in a novelisaton, with 27 chapters and an epilogue.
Background: Donald Cotton adapts his own scripts for the 1965 serial.
Notes: Yep, the story is narrated in the first person by the great author Homer, who apparently was just out of shot in every scene.
The Doctor had promised his young companions a trip to London in the 1960s. Homer claims that he has met the Doctor on many occasions (and that he is now younger than he was the first time they met), knows that the TARDIS is a time machine – and that the Doctor is specifically a ‘Time Lord’! Vicki has a very loose grasp of Earth history, much to Steven’s despair, but knows enough to recognise the importance of the Trojan Horse. Steven is concerned about his absence from the ‘Space-Research Project’, where he had been an amateur athlete during his training and it’s suggested he might have played football (he compares the prospect of fighting Odysseus with ‘the second eleven on a Saturday knock-about’, so that’s definitely football and not the completely different ‘American Football’). We discover how ‘Cyclops’ lost his eye and gained his name [but see Final Analysis below]. There’s no explanation for how Steven is wounded by the start of the next story. Instead, we learn that Vicki – as Cressida – remained with Troilus and the pair took care of their blind friend Homer. The epilogue reveals that the elderly poet has been telling his story to the Doctor, who, it turns out, has popped back to look in on Homer on many occasions throughout his eventful life.
Cover: The TARDIS materialises in front of the wooden horse, painted by Andrew Skilleter.
Final Analysis: Donald Cotton tore up the rule book for his TV stories and he revolutionises the Doctor Who novel here. Cotton’s habit of using witty episode titles continues with the novel’s chapter titles ‘Zeus Ex Machina’ ‘Temple Fugit’ and of course ‘Doctor in the Horse’, which was his original title of episode 4. He really strains with chapter 22’s ‘Hull Low, Young Lovers’; I wonder how many eager readers would know the song ‘Hello, Young Lovers’ from the 1951 musical (or 1956 film) The King and I, so might this be a reference pitched at a prospective parent reading this for a young fan a chapter a night at bedtime?
Casting Homer as the narrator gives us insight into the politics of the time, while also contriving increasingly outlandish reasons for him to be party to private conversations, ‘concealed in a clump of cactus I wasn’t too fond of’, accompanying the TARDIS into Troy and, after being jabbed in the eye and being dubbed ‘Cyclops’, he passed out and wakes up ‘covered in fish-scales and crabs’ legs’. Homer is aware that the Doctor is a time traveller too, making much merriment with details he shouldn’t know anything about:
… how do you describe a time-machine to a man who has never even heard of Euclid, never mind Einstein? Of course, up till then, I’d never heard of them myself, but I must say I found the whole concept fascinating.
Cotton – through Homer – has a delightfully waspish style. We’re told that Cassandra is a fearsome woman who looks like ‘her brother Hector in drag’, while Achilles ‘had that look of Narcissistic petulance one so often sees on the faces of health fanatics, or on male models who pose for morally suspect sculptors’, adding ‘I believe the Greeks have a word for it nowadays’. It’s when he comes to explain the causes of the siege of Troy that we might feel certain attitudes from the mid-1980s are guiding his hand. His description of Paris appears to be a commentary on more modern Royal events that resonate just as much in 2021 as 1985:
… the second sons of Royal Houses – especially if they are handsome as the devil – have a lot of temptation to cope with. And then, the unlikelihood of their ever achieving the throne does seem to induce irresponsibility which – combined, of course, with an inflated income – how shall I put it? – well, it aggravates any amorous propensities they may have…. Well, we all know about princes and their libidinous ways: their little frolics below stairs – their engaging stagedoor haunting jaunting?
Trigger warning here: Among many anachronistic terms Homer uses, the phrase ‘a coon’s age’, which dates from the early 19th-century and referred to racoons, but for many readers this may still have racial connotations.
As one of the missing TV historicals, it’s not a story I know that well, having only heard the soundtrack and watched a telesnap reconstruction. Cotton pulls out all the stops to bring the period alive and make it like a gossip between old friends, a tale told with tongue firmly in cheek and a knowing wink at the reader (this is especially evident in the audiobook with a delicious reading by Stephen Thorne). Even in providing us with what must be the first celebrity historical featuring an author (something modern fans might be more likely to expect), he’s smart enough to leave himself plenty of escape routes. Homer himself tells us the effect of adopting many guises to avoid being trapped into supporting one side or the other. Like the Doctor, his name lives on in legend:
I’ve always found it a very good rule to be a bit cautious about handing out the label unless unavoidable – which is why, I’m told, to this day, nobody is entirely convinced that Homer ever existed […]
5 thoughts on “Chapter 97. Doctor Who – The Myth Makers (1985)”
I love this book so much. I’m currently giving Eddie Campbell’s “Bacchus” comics a re-read, so a re-read of this afterwards might be a great digestif!
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HOLD THE PHONE! I just learned this book exists – Donald Cotton’s “The Bodkin Papers”:
Just ordered a reasonably-priced copy on World of Books – and they currently have three more left if’n anybody here wants to jump on it. It’s my first (and almost certainly last) purchase of a non-“Doctor Who” Target book!
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Wow, thanks for the recommendation – bought!!
A possible bonus blog entry? 🙂
I’m just delighted I get another 128 pages of Donald Cotton to read. (And a thank you to David Howe’s “The Target Book,” which I just read, for letting me know “The Bodkin Papers” even existed.)
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(The following presupposes you’ve already received and read the book. If not, read later. Or not at all. Just, who else on earth can I talk about this book to?) 🙂
Well, that was as delightful as I’d hoped… except when it was being blatantly racist in a way that should have been out of vogue by 1986 but wasn’t quite, really. (And what’s with the tribe of “Indians” said to be rather stupid that are apparently Aztec, given their worship of Quetzalcoatl – in Brazil? In 1831!? – but also have witch doctors who are said to shrink heads – again, in Brazil? Cotton’s usual tendency towards blithe anachronism is just wrong-headed here.)
Story-wise, I could nitpick a bit that we’re told a lot more often that Josiah is a selfish trickster who brings ill on others than we actually see him being one; mostly he just doles out insults. But. It’s still Donald Cotton, delighting in putting words next to one another. Fantastic lines and phrases abound. “…provide that emotional zip so sought after by film and funeral directors.” “He smacked his lips for something they hadn’t yet done.” And perhaps his best chapter title ever, the wonderful “There Are Theories at the Bottom of the Jargon.” And I’m sad he never wrote the further installments he clearly had planned. A Josiah and Rasputin book? Yes, please.
(On a whim, I googled “There Are Theories at the Bottom of the Jargon” and got two hits. The first is from an L.A. Times article in 2005 written by a British art writer and curator. The second is a chapter title in a doctorate thesis on sci-fi and language by a student at the University of Warwick that was written in 1986… the year “The Bodkin Papers” was published. It seems that somebody may have been a Donald Cotton fan, but didn’t cop to it!)