Chorus Skating

Title: Chorus Skating
Author(s): Alan Dean Foster
Release year: 1994
Publisher: Warner Books

Why in Database: The eighth, final volume of the Spellsinger series. Jon-Tom is again a protagonist here (as in the first six volumes), and the turtle element appears in the form of the old wizard, Clothahump. He is present only at the beginning of the book, when the heroes go out looking for adventures, he stays at home. Below, typically, a few selected fragments:

Clothahump was not to be found in any of his several studies, nor in the great library. When finally he arrived in the audience chamber, it was clear he had been napping.
“Jon-Tom, what are you doing here today?” He yawned, his beak stretching wide.

“Now that you have broken my concentration, what is it so urgent it makes you forget even Crixxas?”
Jon-Tom looked over at Mudge, who was ignoring him with practiced finesse. Finding no support from that quarter, he looked hopefully at the wizard.
“Really not much of anything, Master.”
“Come come, lad. You can tell old Clothahump.”
“I just did, sir. That is the problem. Nothing’s the matter. Anywhere.”
Clothahump looked dubious. “I fail to see why you should regard that as a disturbing state of affairs.”
“Frankly, Clothahump, Mudge and I are bored.”
“Ah!” The wizard’s face lit with understanding. Which in Clothahump’s case meant it actually took on a slight, pale evanescence. “Adventure selfdenial. A not uncommon malady among individuals of your age and intellectual-emotional type. I, of course, am immune to such juvenile disorders. I presume you have given some thought to a possible course of treatment?”

Clothahump watched them depart, grateful to see the last of them. With Ghorpul engaged in his duties, the wizard was finally able to retire once more to the special room of velvet darkness in which he chose to lose himself in contemplation of the unfathomable mysteries of the Universe. Seating himself in the exact center of the spherical chamber (which required that he hover precisely three body lengths off the floor), he made use of a quantity of drifting powders and potions. Soon the surroundings were illuminated by a nebulous, chromatic blush, which under the wizard’s sonorous, hypnotic urging began to take on substance and form. It was the shape of another turtle: young, lithe (insofar as a turtle could be lithe), decidedly female, and soft of shell. It was a most impressive conjuration, though its inherent philosophical gravity might well constitute a matter for some debate. Proximate to the phantasm Clothahump floated, hands and legs folded in front of him, his largely inflexible face cast in a perhaps less than profound grin… .

He even missed Clothahump’s gruff admonitions and predictably constructive insults.

“That’s that.” Pleased with his effort, the spellsinger shook himself. Maybe he hadn’t toppled any towering ramparts or outblazed an attacking dragon, but as Clothahump often said, any spell you could walk away from was a good one.

Author: XYuriTT

Son of Spellsinger

Title: Son of Spellsinger
Author(s): Alan Dean Foster
Release year: 1993
Publisher: Warner Books

Why in Database: The seven volume of the Spellsinger series, as title suggests, it focuses on the son of the previous main character. As in most volumes, the old turtle appearing here the great sorcerer Clothahump is present only in the initial part of the novel, then the heroes go to adventure, (and sometimes mention him in their thoughts/dialogues) and he stays at home. Below we present a few selected fragments:

“Clothahump and I have some long-term, overdue debtors, but we’ve never used any strong-arm collection techniques. Nothing that would turn anyone vengeful. At least, I haven’t. I can mention it to Clothahump. You know how he can get about money sometimes.”
“The old miser,” Talea muttered.
“With him it’s not the interest. It’s the principal of the thing.”

“Clothahump could do it,” Buncan muttered. “If he was interested in anybody’s problems besides his own.”
Talea whacked him on the side of his arc-inscribed head. “Don’t speak like that about your goduncle. Even if he is a turtle. He’s been very good to your father and me, when he could just as easily have decorporalized us and had done with it, after all the trouble we caused him.”

The owl disappeared. Clothahump finished his tea, then rose with the slowness of great age and stared out the window toward the distant woods. There was no sign of young Meriweather. Clothahump hoped he was on his way home, though that was unlikely.
Well, it wasn’t his responsibility. He had other matters to attend to. There were alcoves and storage chambers inside the tree that hadn’t been scoured in a hundred years. That’s what happened when you put off cleaning for a few decades. Jon-Tom and Talea would have to straighten the lad out by themselves.
Checking the drawers set in his plastron, he trundled off in the direction of his workshop. The tornado ought to be about finished there by now. Have to make sure and empty it outside, he reminded himself.

The Grand Veritable, the merchant Gragelouth had called it. Reality or delusion, it had certainly provoked Clothahump. What could be formidable enough to cause the great wizard to adamantly refuse to acknowledge so much as its possible existence? What could frighten the all-powerful Clothahump that badly?

“Not now.” Clothahump waved magnanimously. “Even absurd tales have their uses. One must balance enlightenment with entertainment. This is fortunate for you, elsewise I might have turned you into a cockroach as penance for interrupting my sleep.” The sloth started, sleepy eyes suddenly wide. Jon-Tom was quick to reassure him.
“Clothahump has a unique sense of humor.”

Author: XYuriTT

The Time of the Transference

Title: The Time of the Transference
Author(s): Alan Dean Foster
Release year: 1986
Publisher: Phantasia

Why in Database: After Clothahump had a fair share in the previous volume, here again, the scenes with him are mostly at the beginning and end of the book. It is also the original final volume – it has a clear conclusion for the adventures of the main character. Six years after this book was published, the author published two more volumes, so it’s not quite the end of the series. Below, as standard, only a few sample fragments.

“The wizard sleeps the sleep of the dead and I know what Sorbl sounds like when he’s drunk. This is different, Jon-Tom. Trust me, I know sounds in the night.”

He eyed her longingly for another moment, then turned and slipped from beneath the covers. Winter was loosening its grip reluctantly this year, so he stepped into slippers and a heavy robe. While Clothahump could dimensionally expand the interior of a tree to provide its occupants with spacious living quarters, he had yet to figure out a practical way to heat one without burning the tree itself to the ground.

At four feet he had to stretch to lean over the back of the chair to which Clothahump was tied. He wore a suit of thin chain mail which jangled as he hopped up and down in anger and frustration. Clothahump had retreated completely into his shell. The wizard’s hands, feet and head were not visible. The guinea pig was leaning over the opening in the top of the shell and screaming inside. Ugly scars showed on his neck where the hair had never grown back.
“Come out of there, damn you! I’m tired of talking to a carapace.”
He started to reach inside with a paw, thought better of it and did not. Then he stepped back and nodded to the civet cat. To Jon-Tom’s Horror he saw that the bucket held boiling hot mud, which the cat was preparing to dump down Clothahump’s shell.
The threat was sufficient to induce Clothahump to slowly stick out his head. He squinted in the light, his hexagonal glasses unsteady on his beak. Obviously he and Sorbl had been surprised while sleeping, before either could take any defensive action.
“For the last time, I am telling you to get out while you still have a chance.” Clothahump sniffed disdainfully. “I am the world’s greatest wizard. Tying me to a chair will not prevent me from turning all of you into walking flagons of pain. I will strip the flesh from your bones, slowly and agonizingly. It is only out of the goodness of my heart and out of sympathy for such blatantly ignorant morons as yourselves that I have not done so already!”

Was he going about it all wrong? But all he knew how to do was spellsing. He couldn’t use potions and powders like Clothahump. What was it the wizard was always telling him? “Always keep in mind that magic is a matter of specificity.”

Putting aside his initial anger, Jon-Tom did just that. It wasn’t easy. He didn’t want to consider the matter logically and dispassionately. He wanted to stomp about and yell and shout imprecations. Unfortunately he knew he was doomed to lose from the start. Not only was Clothahump right, the turtle had two hundred and fifty years of debating experience on him.

Author: XYuriTT

Squadron 303

Title: Squadron 303
Author(s): Arkady Fiedler
Translation: Jarek Garlinski
Release year: 1942
Publisher: Peter Davies

Why in Database: Turtles appear twice in this book in the original, but only once in the English translation, in the fragment shown below.

But a single fighter squadron, every member a daredevil of aerial acrobatics and deadly in attack, had this mass of bombers as impotent and defenseless as a tortoise turned on to its back.

Source: Mossar, Developed: XYuriTT

Reaper’s Gale

Title: Malazan Book of the Fallen #7 – Reaper’s Gale
Author(s): Steven Erikson
Release year: 2007
Publisher: Bantam Books

Why in Database: This is not the first book from this series to be adden to TurtleDex – but it is, by far the most turtle book from this author! We found the turtles in 11 fragments, we cite all of them below. These are fragments about the turtle species, the turtles is used in comparisons, and the tortoiseshell is also mentioned.

Of the turtles known as vinik the females dwelt for the most part in the uppermost reaches of the innumerable sources of the Lether River, in the pooled basins and high-ground bogs found in the coniferous forests crowding the base of the Bluerose Mountains. The mountain runoff, stemmed and backed by the dams built by flat-tailed river-rats, descended in modest steps towards the broader, conjoined tributaries feeding the vast river. Vinik turtles were long-shelled and dorsal-ridged, and their strong forelimbs ended in taloned hands bearing opposable thumbs. In the egg-laying season, the females – smaller by far than their male kin of the deep rivers and the seas – prowled the ponds seeking the nests of waterfowl. Finding one large enough and properly accessible, the female vinik would appropriate it.
Prior to laying her own eggs, the turtle exuded a slime that coated the bird eggs, the slime possessing properties that sus¬pended the development of those young birds. Once the vinik’s clutch was in place, the turtle then dislodged the entire nest, leaving it free to float, drawn by the current. At Of the turtles known as vinik the females dwelt for the most part in the uppermost reaches of the innumerable sources of the Lether River, in the pooled basins and high-ground bogs found in the coniferous forests crowding the base of the Bluerose Mountains. The mountain runoff, stemmed and backed by the dams built by flat-tailed river-rats, descended in modest steps towards the broader, conjoined tributaries feeding the vast river.
Vinik turtles were long-shelled and dorsal-ridged, and their strong forelimbs ended in taloned hands bearing opposable thumbs. In the egg-laying season, the females – smaller by far than their male kin of the deep rivers and the seas – prowled the ponds seeking the nests of waterfowl. Finding one large enough and properly accessible, the female vinik would appropriate it. Prior to laying her own eggs, the turtle exuded a slime that coated the bird eggs, the slime possessing properties that suspended the development of those young birds.
Once the vinik’s clutch was in place, the turtle then dislodged the entire nest, leaving it free to float, drawn by the current. At each barrier juvenile male vinik were gathered, to drag the nests over dry ground so that they could continue their passive migration down to the Lether River.
Many sank, or encountered some fatal obstacle on their long, arduous journey to the sea. Others were raided by adult vinik dwelling in the depths of the main river. Of those nests that made it to sea, the eggs hatched, the hatchlings fed on the bird embryos, then slipped out into the salty water. Only upon reaching juvenile age – sixty or seventy years – would the new generation of vinik begin the years-long journey back up the river, to those distant, murky ponds of the Bluerose boreal forest.
Nests bobbed in the waters of the Lether River as it flowed past the Imperial City, Letheras, seat of the Emperor. Local fisher boats avoided them, since large vinik males sometimes tracked the nests just beneath the surface – and provided they weren’t hungry enough to raid the nest, they would defend it. Few fisher folk willingly challenged a creature that could weigh as much as a river galley and was capable of tearing such a galley to pieces with its beak and its clawed forearms.
The arrival of the nests announced the beginning of summer, as did the clouds of midges swarming over the river, the settling of the water level and the reek of exposed silts along the banks.

In addition to this weapon he carried a baldric-slung plain rapier in a silver-banded turtleshell scabbard.

‘Life is an invitation to disease,’ the huge warrior rumbled from the shadows. After a moment, he added, ‘I’ll feed it to the turtles.’ Then he snorted. ‘Turtles big enough to drag down this damned ship. These Letherii live in a mad god’s nightmare.’

Tall, skin pale as the shell of turtle eggs, red-rimmed eyes set deep in elongated, chiselled faces, and too many joints on their long limbs, transforming their stiff expressions of death into something surreal, fevered – but that last detail was no surprise.

Their beds were crowded with halfnaked warriors, spears bristling. The entire front end of each rocking, pitching wagon was a horizontal forest of oversized spears. Round-shields overlapped to form a half-turtleshell that encased the forward section.

‘The Shake make the most extraordinary combs,’ Kindly said. ‘Turtleshell.’
‘Impressive, sir.’
‘Expensive purchases, but well worth it, I should judge.’
‘Yes sir. Tried them yet?’
‘Lieutenant, do you imagine that to be amusing?’
‘Sir? No, of course not!’
‘Because, as is readily apparent, Lieutenant, your commanding officer has very little hair.’
‘If by that you mean on your head, then yes sir, that is, uh, apparent indeed.’
‘Am I infested with lice, then, that I might need to use a comb elsewhere on my body, Lieutenant?’
‘I wouldn’t know, sir. I mean, of course not.’
‘Lieutenant, I want you to go to my cabin and prepare the disciplinary report on that soldier over there.’
‘But sir, she’s a marine.’
‘Said report to be forwarded to Fist Keneb when such communication is practicable. Well, why are you still standing here? Get out of my sight, and no limping!’
‘Limp’s long gone, sir!’
Pores saluted then hurried away, trying not to limp. The problem was, it had become something of a habit when he was around Captain Kindly. Granted, a most pathetic attempt at eliciting some sympathy. Kindly had no sympathy. He had no friends, either. Except for his combs. ‘And they’re all teeth and no bite,’ he murmured as he descended to Kindly’s cabin. ‘Turtleshell, ooh!’
Behind him, Kindly spoke, ‘I have decided to accompany you, Lieutenant. To oversee your penmanship.’
Pores cringed, hitched a sudden limp then rubbed at his hip before opening the cabin hatch. ‘Yes sir,’ he said weakly.
‘And when you are done, Lieutenant, my new turtleshell combs will need a thorough cleansing. Shake are not the most fastidious of peoples.’
‘Nor are turtles.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘I will be most diligent, sir.’
‘And careful.’
‘Absolutely, sir.’

A fateful decision, maybe, but he’d made it now. Dragging with him all the squads that had been in the village, Fiddler took over from some of Keneb’s more beat-up units the west-facing side of their turtleback defence.

‘Holding Beak’s hand, somewhere else,’ Fiddler replied. ‘You can give those orders to me, soldier.’
‘All right. Maintain the turtleback – do not advance on the enemy—’

The body of the female Imass was a piteous thing. Desiccated, limbs drawn up as tendons contracted. The wild masses of her hair had grown like roots from a dead tree, the nails of her stubby fingers like flattened talons the hue of tortoiseshell. The smudged garnets that were her eyes had sunk deep within their sockets, yet still seemed to stare balefully at the sky.

‘We got time. Let’s perch ourselves down top of Wormface Alley, have another jug, an’ we can watch the Edur crawl up t’us like the Turtle of the Abyss.’

Coming opposite it, he dropped the iron sword, took another step closer, bent down and pushed one hand under the edge of the hut. With an upward heave, he lifted the entire structure clear, sent it toppling onto its back like an upended turtle.

Source: Mossar, Developed: XYuriTT

Sleepaway Camp III: Teenage Wasteland

Title: Sleepaway Camp III: Teenage Wasteland
Year: 1989
Director: Michael A. Simpson
Actors: Pamela Springsteen, Tracy Griffith, Michael J. Pollard, Mark Oliver, Haynes Brooke, Sandra Dorsey, Daryl Wilcher, Kim Wall, Kyle Holman, Cliff Brand, Kashina Kessler, Randi Layne, Chung Yen Tsay, Jarrett Ellis Beal, Sonya Maddox, Jill Terashita, Stacie Lambert, Charles Lawlor
Genre: Comedy, Horror
Country: USA

Why in Database: In one scene a real turtle appears, one of the protagonists use him to scares another, blindfolded one.

Author: XYuriTT

Halloween in a Box

Title: Halloween in a Box
Year: 2019
Director: Rob Caprilozzi
Cast: Nick Banks, John Cimino, Roy Thomas
Genre: Documentary
Country: USA

Why in Database: Documentary’s film on the boxed Halloween costume business, it tells the story from the beginning of the business to the present day. Turtle elements come in the form of costumes of Ninja Turtles, which went to shelves during the popularity of the first animated series. A fragment of the opening sequence of this series is shown, of course the costumes themselves, as well as some Ninja Turtles figures.

Author: XYuriTT

Crush

Title: Crush
Year: 2013
Director: Malik Bader
Actors: Ashleigh Craig, Cody Hamilton, Lucas Till, Crystal Reed, Isaiah Mustafa, Dan Metcalfe, Derrick Kemp, Preston Davis, Mariah Buzolin, Sarah Bolger, Holt McCallany, Camille Guaty, Caitríona Balfe, Leigh Whannell, Reid Ewing, Melissa Young, Nikki SooHoo, Meredith Salenger
Genre: Horror, Thriller
Country: USA

Why in Database: The turtle appears in this film mainly in the form of a figurine that the main character has on the porch of his house, he is hiding the entrance keys under him.
The second appearance is the book Some New Kind of Slaughter, with a turtle on the cover, it can be seen on a shelf in a store where one of the characters works.
The third turtle element is more of a curiosity – the main character goes to the cinema with his friend, he choose quite old movie, His Girl Friday – we mention it because we have this movie in our database. An excerpt of this movie is shown, but not the scene where the turtle is mentioned.

Author: XYuriTT

March 2022

In March 2022 we added to TurtleDex:

22 movies:
Stephanie
Bag It
Kings of Baja
Papua 3d The Secret Island Of The Cannibals
Not for Resale
Mr. Stink
Dangerous Beauty
Team Hot Wheels: The Origin of Awesome!
D.A.R.Y.L.
A Simple Favor
The Secret of Life on Earth
Inside the garbage of the world
Journey to the South pacific
Antibirth
Spring: The Return of Life
Islands of fire
The Tempest
The Bits of Yesterday
Full Circle
The Cartoonist: Jeff Smith, BONE and the Changing Face of Comics
Baskin
Sorted

2 books:
Jules Verne – Journey to the Center of the Earth
Alan Dean Foster – The Paths of the Perambulator