November Reading

I polished off another author from the Avon/Equinox original 24, reading my last book by James Blish.  I am down to Silverberg, Anthony, Harrison, Bulmer, Tubb, Williamson, Moorcock, and Malzberg.  Thus, if I continue to read one book per month by these authors, I will have more time in the latter days of the month to read any other books on my list.  So besides the above 9 authors, including, Blish, I managed to read three other books last month.  Let's get started.

Silverberg's Book of Skulls has been hailed by many as a very fine story.  Truth be told, I found it more than slightly boring to read.  Four college boys, representing a wide spectrum of white boys (again, the author mostly excludes girls from his narrative, except for sex), set out for Arizona, in search of a cult that promises everlasting life.  A chapter at a time is devoted to each boy, with the narrative seldom repeating, but marching on toward the desert.  None of the boys are the least bit likable, and I hardly cared what happened to any of them.  The old scrolls say that four must set forth, but that two will be sacrificed.  No problem; it'll be somebody else, not me.  It takes a long time to arrive at the monastery complex, where very old but hearty priests await them eagerly.  The boys begin to under rigourous training, which some take to and one doesn't.  The book is classified as SF, even though it really isn't, and was nominated in the early 70s for a Hugo!  I was not impressed at all.

I continue, for now, to waste some time each month reading Piers Anthony, hoping that someday he will recover his senses and write a great book once again, like he used to.  His writing has become so obviously commercial that virtually every new book of his I read causes me pain and frustration.  Hard Sell is a supposedly comical story that juveniles might find fun to read, though I doubt there is any appeal for adult readers.  I found myself skimming through a lot of this story about a man who can't seem to hold onto a job.  As usual, he is honest and moral, and will not go one millimeter against his beliefs.  Anthony's main characters are all exactly the same in each and every novel he now writes, and their blandness and lack of any common sense in real world situations is, at best, grotesque.

Rescued once again by Harry Harrison, who can be one very funny writer, I read his follow-up novel to one of his better non-serious books.  Bill The Galactic Hero: (see first book on this page) The Planet of Robot Slaves is one giant joke from start to finish.  As ridiculous as the story is, Harrison always has something worthwhile to say, and his ongoing digs at life in the military (as a private) are as pointed as they are hilarious.  This book spawned a series that Harrison planned out but that others actually wrote, which I will not be pursuing.

I read Prince of Scorpio by Kenneth Bulmer, the 5th book of his nearly endless Dray Prescott series.  The book completes a 5-novel series called The Delian Cycle.  At this time I have no plans to continue reading the series, so will stop here and try another of his endeavours.  Bulmer will likely be the next author I will be able to wrap up permanently on these pages, but I still have a few things of his to try.  The present series is a somewhat lackluster retelling of Burroughs, Haggard, and Howard.  I would much rather read books by those authors.

Virtually everything written by E C Tubb is been published on Kindle, and unpublished, unknown work continues to emerge.  This month I read another early, very short work called Dynasty of Doom a title that has nothing to do with the story.  Tubb has written several works that deal with a star ship trapped in a kind of non-space, and the events and landscapes described are always quite fascinating.  It's an action-packed pulp SF adventure, and though not one of his better works, is still fun to read.

Jack Williamson teamed up again with Frederik Pohl, this time for Land's End, a post-apocalyptic adventure that I quite enjoyed, despite a few weighty problems.  A comet is heading for Earth, but is broken up using atomic warheads.  However, the destruction comes anyway, in the form of millions of comet parts raining down mercilessly, and killing most of the surface life.  There are a few undamaged underwater cities, and the surface is trying to also make a small comeback.  The plot is spoiled by an alien presence that's been sleeping in the ocean for millions of years, and awakens during the mess, as well as a family of bad guys that are nothing but cartoons of themselves.  Still, there are many scenes that will remain with me a long time.

 A City In the Autumns Stars is Moorcock's second Von Beck novel in his short series.  It takes place beginning in 1794, following a more modern Von Beck this time, as he flees Paris for his life, disillusioned by The Terror, the direct sequel to the revolution itself. Moorcock creates some wonderful settings, often in taverns, and the secondary characters we meet are fleshed out and fascinating on their own.  Prince Miroslav, Lord Renyard (the scholar fox), and Red O'Doud are only a few of the fascinating people encountered in this magical and mystical journey.  Well worth reading, and possibly even rereading.

Galaxies by Barry Malzberg is a rather brilliant concept for a SF novel, as the author, instead of writing a SF novel, narrates it to us from his notes regarding the possible novel.  It concerns a lone woman commander of a space ship that is captured by a black hole, and what might or could happen to her as a result.  One of his best SF works, this one is a gem.

And sadly I come to my final Blish novel.  It was my second reading of Fallen Star, from 1957.  A polar expedition sets out to do some research at the North Pole, and I think I enjoyed it even more second time around.  It is one of the best novels, of any type, I have ever read.  Blish can write characters, action, adventure, and thoughtful plots, this one involving the breakup of a planet that became the asteroid belt, as well or better than almost anyone else.  A huge piece of the broken up planet was thought to have crashed at the pole, lying hidden for millions of years.  This really is a must read novel, which also shows off the author's wonderful and sophisticated sense of humour, despite the devastating finale.

And cover of the month goes to Harrison's Bill novel.  Congratulations to the artists.

       Cover of the month for November 2021, executed by Michael Kaluta and Steve Fastner. 

Turning to other books read, there were three, all excellent in their own way.  Kate Chopin's 23 short stories that make up her Bayou Folk, is from 1894.  These are tales from a small, isolated parish in central Louisiana, where the author lived for a time.  The stories are often brilliant in their piercing look into simple local lives and the complications that arise as they go about their business.  Some stories are tragic, a few are humourous, some are psychological portraits, and some are adventurous.  But they all are told with warmth and sympathy.  Known mostly for her shorter fiction, Chopin also wrote two novels.  I hope to be able to read all of her works, which I now possess on Kindle.  Most of the stories are worth rereading, too.

Next came a book I was given by Jenn G., a good friend who works at a bookstore, and who also gave me last month's Guy Gavriel Kay novel, one of the best things I have ever read.  This time it was the memoirs of Philip Glass, called Words Without Music.  And that's just what the book is; it is not written for musicians, but for anyone to read.  He has led a rather fascinating life, and though much of his music does not interest me that much, some of it does to an extraordinary degree.  We saw and heard him perform with his ensemble in Detroit many years ago (A Thousand Airplanes On The Roof, and other works), and of course we more or less worship his scored film Koyaanisqatsi, among other works.  We are planning a Solstice Day and New Year's Eve tribute to Glass and his music.  The book is endlessly fascinating, and I will be checking out several more of his music creations as a result.  I also gleaned some pretty good performing ideas from him, ones I've never heard before from any teacher.

Lastly came a book I've wanted to read since I was immersed in the Ballantine Adult Fantasy series, several years ago now.  Lin Carter frequently mentioned a book of stories by Robert Chambers called The King In Yellow, which was published in 1895 (a year later than Bayou Folk), a book that used to be impossible to find. Those stories pretty much got H P Lovecraft going on his way, though he does not write nearly as well as Chambers.  The Chambers book contains ten short stories and novelettes, four of which concern The King In Yellow, which is a fictional play that, if read, drives a person mad.  The book has been outlawed and banned, but underground copies abound.  In addition to the four loosely related stories concerning this play, there are two others of supernatural interest, also very good, and four more or less regular short stories.  Chambers was an artist before he turned to writing, and the remaining four stories tell tales of artists living in Paris.  One story is a harrowing vision of life in Paris during the Franco-Prussian War, during the bombardment of Paris in 1870-71.  There are some unforgettable moments in that story.  The last tale is unexpectedly very funny, about a young American artist who manages to capture the attention of a beautiful young Parisian woman that wouldn't even glance at any of the other male art students.  He gets his big chance, and completely ruins it, to his eternal shame.  I'm sure many guys can relate well to this story.  Again I now have his complete works on Kindle.

Mapman Mike

 

Elia Kazan

 Kazan directed some 20 movies, many of them some of the biggest Hollywood features ever made.  In Pinky, which we watched recently, he was the first to tackle racism against Blacks in a film.  Before that had come Gentleman's Agreement, which we just saw.  It took on anti-Semitism, in an amazing picture starring Gregory Peck as a successful writer who pretends he is Jewish, to find out what it was like to face prejudice every day.  The acting is always good in a Kazan film, and the dialogue usually flows very naturally.  The director began as a method actor, and he seems to know how to get the most from his talented stars.  Of course the Criterion print is pristine.  Celeste Holm and Dean Stockwell also turn in great performances.

Now showing on Criterion. 

 Panic In The Streets, by Kazan and starring Richard Widmark, is the tale of murder and bubonic plague, an interesting combination for a noir adventure film.  Jack Palance is a feared hoodlum, and when two of his underlings catch the plague, the authorities try to round up the group before it spreads across New York and beyond. It's difficult to imagine Richard Widmark as a public servant doctor, but he is actually okay in the role.  I've read a few similar plots of plague spreading in NYC in my more recent SF readings, one of the better ones being Harry Harrison's futuristic The Jupiter Plague.

Now showing on Criterion. 

Coming up later tonight is Kazan's 1976 feature The Last Tycoon.

I went with Deb to Kingsville yesterday with Deb, though I did not visit Lois.  There is a small outbreak of Covid in one of the pod sections at the LTC facility, the first one ever to hit there.  I dropped off Deb and went down to the waterfront to read.  A snowstorm was approaching, our first little wake-up call of the season.  The storm began on our drive home, around 1 pm, and by 3 pm it was coming down hard.  We ended up with 3" of heavy, wet snow,and though about half of it melted during the day today, a bit more arrives tomorrow.  Anyway, the snowplows and salt trucks had a good practice run, and by the dozens of car accidents that occurred yesterday, it sounds like many drivers got to practice, too.  It would seem that more driving practice might be needed.

Lake Erie gets a short burst of sun.  Photo taken on Deb's phone from Lakeside Park, about an hour before the snow began.

Our creek separates our two back yards.  Note the few remaining yellow leaves, and the snowbank reflection in the water.

This is the location of all our spring, summer, and fall coffee roastings.  In the winter we use the fireplace indoors.  The orange extension cord leads to a heated water basin for the birds and squirrels over the winter. 

Lastly, from the DIA I came across this beautiful and sensitive image by Angelica Kauffman.  It is a striking piece of art, done with a sensitivity that few, if any, male artists could likely achieve. And yet the detail at least reminds me of some of Picasso's pink period works.  The pose is natural, and the lack of lewdness and coy nudity is both refreshing and ideal.  It also reminds me of a few works in Detroit by the American painter Thomas Dewing.  And of course the print harkens back to the ideals set out by ancient Greek sculptors.

 

 Sitting Half Naked Maiden, 1780.  Angelica Kauffman, Swiss (1741-1807.  Etching and aquatint printed on brown ink on laid paper, 9 3/4" x 10 5/8".  Collection Detroit Institute of Arts.

 

Detail of above. 

 

Deb goes for her 3rd Moderna vaccine shot on Tuesday morning.  No word on when I may be eligible, but Canada has 6 million doses of unused vaccine that will expire at the end of the year.  Seriously? 

My next blog will likely be the November reading summary, unless something momentous happens before then.  Hopefully not.

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

50 year Keyboard Anniversary

It was November 1971 that I first sat down at the piano to find out how to play it.  We never had a piano at home, but my mom's sister, Aunt Pauline and Uncle Jim, had an upright.  My three female cousins had taken lessons, and Melanie, then 13, was still studying.  She became my first teacher, helping me through several beginner courses over the winter.  And after 50 years, I can honestly say that I am finally starting to get the gist of it, though still learning every day.  For normal learners like myself, there is no such thing as mastering the piano.  It's always a challenge, every single day.  And fun.  So I'm raising a toast to 50 years of learning the classics, and thanking all of my teachers, past and present: Melanie, who was very encouraging when I began; to Stephen Sword, my high school English teacher, who became my first formal piano teacher and brought me to my Gr. 5 piano exam; to the late John Hannah, my teacher at Cambrian College in Sudbury, who brought me up to ARCT (professional) level; to Greg Butler, whom I studied with at the U. of Windsor; to the late Toma Schwartz, whom I studied with at Wayne State University in Detroit; and to Philip Adamson, my keyboard history teacher from U of Windsor, with whom I currently study whenever time allows.  It takes a small village of teachers to raise a pianist!

 And the 50 year anniversary celebration continues, with a little Beethoven (Op 34).  

In weather news, it's astronomy season once again.  Of course it's raining.  The leaves are all down on the ground now, after a few good windy days.  December is just around the corner, too.  compare the next photo to the same location only two days earlier.  Though there were still some leaves up when I took this, a lot more had fallen.  Now, as mentioned, they are all down.

Taken just a few days after the one on my previous post.  Though we've had no snow yet that remains on the ground, it can't be far off.  Read about here, soon.

The finest film we have seen in a long while was Deb's leaving Criterion Channel's Nov. 30th choice.  Directed by Aki Kaurismaki, it is called The Man Without A Past, and is from 2002.  A man just arriving in Stockholm is beaten badly by three thugs, and he loses his memory of who he is.  Despite a few minutes of nauseating violence near the beginning, the rest of the film is pure magic, as the man lives on the outskirts of society, making friends, and living in a shipping container.  The Salvation Army, Finnish Branch, comes out looking pretty decent in this film.  Filled with humour and human warmth and compassion, it is a must-see film.  Somehow we had missed this one back in the day.

Leaving Criterion Nov. 30th.

Zatoichi's Conspiracy, from 1973, is the last (25th) Zatoichi film in the series.  It plays pretty much like they all do; he arrives in a village (his home one this time) where the peasants are being oppressed by bad leaders, and he sets about making things right.  There is no violence for a long time, and it begins slowly, but then it comes in a gush of blood, as expected.  With the Zatoichi films now complete, I will be turning to the series starring the actor's brother, Lone Wolf and Cub, starting next month.

My going away film choice for the week was Eye of the Devil, a mostly decent British horror film starring Deborah Kerr and David Niven, along with Sharon Tate and David Hemmings, from 1966.  The plot is quite similar to The Wicker Man, where a sacrifice must be made so the grape harvest will return to success.  Kerr does everything in her power to save her husband's (Niven) life.  We are currently viewing Deb's main choice, La Cage Aux Folles.  It is her film festival this upcoming weekend, so more news will be forthcoming.

On Criterion till Nov. 30th.  Our version was called Eye of the Devil. 

 

Mapman Mike

 

A Lunar Eclipse, and A Sunny Day

Things happened in that order.  First came the eclipse, which was cloudy.  Then came the sunny day, right afterwards. Typical.  Deb got up at 5 am Thursday, but it was cloudy.  I woke up at 5:50, and it had cleared.  The moon was already gibbous, being 3/4 of the way back to normal.  So I glimpsed the every end of it from the upstairs bedroom picture window.  I went back to bed and fell back asleep.

Wednesday night we celebrated the Full Moon with a fireplace fire, a moon cake, and an opera we heard throughout the day.  This time it was Mathis der Maler, by Hindemith, telling some of the story of Mathias Grunewald, the painter from the early 1500s.  Fantastic opera about a painter we still know little about, who only has about ten paintings extant.  But what paintings!  So it was a fun day, and I skipped out on piano practice.

Friday was a lovely day, and I went outside and took some photos, all within our yard.  I took three with instant cameras, and five with my small digital one.  Here are two of the digital ones:

Looking into our back yard from the south side rock garden area.  It looks like a country lane.

Tree trunk reflections in our creek. 

In movie news, there are two of my choices to report, and one of Deb's.  My main choice was Fassbinder's The Marriage of Maria Braun, from 1978.  Set in a German city just after WWII, Maria's husband has not returned from the war.  She searches and waits for him, then finally gives up.  She takes a job at a bar as a girl who dances with customers, and meets a man whom she learns to like, and has an affair with him.  Her husband walks into the bedroom at a crucial moment.  Maria clobbers her new friend, killing him.  Her husband takes the rap for it, and she visits him in jail.  It is one of the director's more lucid and enjoyable films from a mainstream audience perspective.  He makes a cameo appearance, too, as a black market seller.  It is a pretty decent film.  Fassbinder shot the film during the day, and worked on the screenplay to Berlin Alexanderplatz, consuming large quantities of cocaine.  The film turned into a big success, critical and commercial.

Hanna Schygulla in a Marlene Dietrich moment. 

My going away choice was Funeral Parade of Roses, a Japanese film from 1969.  Within Criterion, it is grouped with other films under the heading "Japan Goes Wild."  This is a strange but watchable gay boy version of Oedipus Rex, as the camera follows the exploits of pretty boy Eddie (played by "Peter").  We get right inside the gay scene in Tokyo in the 1960s, with incredible photography and visuals.  The story is pretty basic but fun all the same, with Eddie proving to be a very charming young first time actor.  There is some graphic violence involving knives, but for the most part the film consists of some wonderful eye candy, very funny lines, and some strane avante garde cinema effects.  During the story, the director will suddenly stop and interview the actors and others about life as a gay boy.  Definitely one of the weirder 60s movies I have ever watched.  Worth catching if you are able.

Leaving Criterion this month. 

 

Deb's main choice for the weekend was Pinky, a 1949 film directed by Elia Kazan and starring Jeanne Crain as a black woman who appears to be white.  She has returned to her poverty-stricken grandmother after graduating nursing, and becomes involved with a very ill white woman who owns the mansion at the end of the laneway.  This is a film that exposes some hard truths about being black, whether it shows up in your skin tones or not.  The acting is amazingly good, including that of Ethel Barrymore as the old woman, and Ethel Waters as the grandmother who did washing to put her granddaughter through nursing school.  Interracial romance is also tackled here, as well as property being left in a will for blacks to inherit.  The film was a big hit in the good old southern US of A, surprising as that may sound.  No doubt it was supported by blacks, despite casting a white woman in the main role.

Now showing on Criterion.

 And now a quick look at modern transport, from a print by William Hogarth.  We seem to be back where we started, with overcrowded airports, people much too large for the seats assigned, and armed guards needed at the beginning, the end, and on board during the trip.  Not to mention the difference between first class and the rest of us.  One can only thank Hogarth for reminding us today that progress has been slight, indeed.  And we seem to be slipping back even further, into medieval times, with the lack of trust shown scientists who are trying to put an end to the pandemic.  Good luck from me, and from Hogarth, no doubt.

The Stage Coach, 1747, by William Hogarth, English (1697-1764). Engraving in ink on wove paper, 10" x 14".  Collection Detroit Institute of Arts.  

 

In conclusion (on the subject of travel and pandemic), we will be able to visit the US for short trips and return to Canada without having to get tested.  Fully vaccinated Canadians can cross beginning either Nov. 30th or Dec. 1st.  However, Michigan now leads the US in numbers of new cases, more than 7,000 a day now.  By comparison, Ontario had 700 cases per day as last week's average.  And with American Thanksgiving coming up, the greatest annual get-together over there, it means that Covid will likely get even worse by late November/early December.  So my travel plans are still on hold, until Michigan gets its numbers down, and until I get a booster shot.  Deb can't cross, either, because she won't be allowed into the facility where her mother is living for 14 days after being out of the country.  I'm guessing January before my first visit.

 

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

 

New Repertoire Progress

 The new piano pieces are coming along nicely.  Patience and more time will begin to round them out.  I am opening with 2 Little Preludes by Bach, in C Major and c minor, and following that with Beethoven's 6 Variations Op 34.  The Beethoven is a big piece, and I began work on it while still practicing the former pieces.  It is ten pages long and filled with great music, all divided into shorter pieces, or variations.  While most variations are written in the same key, Beethoven did something new with this set; he wrote each variation in a different key, dropping the interval of a 3rd each time.  So besides giving each piece a different character through rhythm, tempos, dynamics, etc, the new key sets each one even further apart from its mates, even though they are related by motif and original theme.

After the Beethoven come three Romantic era pieces, a Song Without Words by Mendelssohn (the 2nd last one), a Nocturne by Chopin (#11, Op 37 #1), and a Schubert Impromtu (Op 90 #2).  The Schubert is also a big piece, and I also began working on it while maintaining the previous program.  I will end with a Concert Waltz, Bethena, by Scott Joplin.  While all the pieces currently sound like music, they are all still under tempo and sounding pretty rough in places.  We'll report back in about six weeks time and see how things are going by then.

And now for the latest in film watching news.  My going away choice last week was called The Crowd, from 1928.  A young man from the sticks heads to New York, hoping to hit the big time and make a name for himself, like his late father always said he would.  Well, he takes a job in a big office (and I mean a big office), and basically goes nowhere during the film.  At the beginning he meets a sweet girl, bragging to her what a big man he is going to become, and belittling other people with undignified jobs, such as a man in a clown suit walking the sidewalk with a sandwich board sign.  He marries the girl, they have two children, and the ups and downs of their marriage and near poverty-stricken existence is followed closely.  Her two brothers and mother totally disapprove of her choice for a husband, and as the movie progresses, we tend to agree with them.  The movie is hard hitting and doesn't back down, though the ending tries to be pessimistic.  Some of the camera work in this silent feature is top knotch!

A silent film showing on Criterion until Nov. 30th.

The lifetime office job, from The Crowd. 

Deb chose a noir called Nightmare Alley, an engaging and well-acted piece about a man who gets a job at a carnival helping a woman with her mind reading tricks.  He eventually becomes a major part of the act, and perfects it with a new partner, his wife, and they make the upper class night club circuit, and are soon swindling people of their money, with the help of a female psychologist.  In the end his wife can't take the strain of pretending she is someone's dead relative, and their game is soon up.  But what about the money they swindled?  Well, it turns out the psychologist knows her stuff, and out swindles him.  In this downbeat movie, he ends up an alcoholic back in the carnival, looked after by his wife.  At least he had a chance at reaching the top.  Tyrone Power, Joan Blondell, Mike Mazurki, and Colleen Gray are all excellent in their roles.

Now showing on Criterion.  

Deb's leaving choice was the 1952 colour spectacular version of Prisoner of Zenda.  Though obviously high budget, and filled with top actors, the movie is rather lackluster in its treatment of one of the great stories of switched identities.  Sets and costumes are really well done, along with lighting.  Great to look at, though adventure lovers will likely be disappointed.

Our red bush, taken Monday. 

And finally, another autumn picture, this time a more recent one of our backyard bush, looking rather wreath-like.  Next time, it's back to the art museum for more landscape art.

Mapman Mike

 

 

November Gale

November gales are legendary on the Great Lakes, and we had a good one yesterday.  Many leaves come tumbling down as a result.  I managed to get outside for a local walk on Wednesday and snap a few photos before Thursday's wind and rain.  Of the four ships I have been watching, two are up on Lake Superior, one is in Lisbon, and the other in Togo (near Accra).  And I see on my Flight Radar site that flights to London have resumed from Detroit.  Deb has a friend who recently went to Aruba for a holiday.  They own a timeshare condo there and haven't been able to go.  Upon return, they were stuck at Toronto airport for 4 1/2 hours, being processed.  In huge crowds with no social distancing.  This is why we won't be flying anytime soon.

A small creek and forest, from my walk on Wednesday.

One of the houses on Front Rd, south of us.

And yes, to some people it's already Christmas. 

I'm way behind on my movie watching news, so I will just spare a sentence about recent views.

For the remainder of my film festival that ended the month of October, after The Raven we watched three films from the Czech New Wave series on Criterion, two features and a short.  Return of the Prodigal Son is from 1967, and concerns the life of a young man spending time in an institution (and out of it) following his attempted suicide.  It was quite good.  Then came A Report On The Party And Guests, from 1966.  It was permanently banned in Czechoslovakia.  It involves a group of party guests accosted by bullies on their way to a party, and then, after being rescued by the host, events move to the outdoor dinner party itself.  The dinner party is like a vastly expanded Mad Hatter Tea Party, with the host playing the part of Hatter.  A bizarre film, and often uncomfortable to watch, it is nevertheless worth seeing.  The short film comes from 1968, and is called A Boring Afternoon.  It is a very funny look at a city tavern mid day.  A group of local football fans leave the pub to go watch the game, leaving a small assortment of customers behind.  The film ends after the return of the fans, whose hometown team have lost the match.

Poster for Criterion's festival of Czech films.  We are slowly getting through all of them.  

Khalik Allah's 2018 film Black Mother was my regular choice for the following week, a unique kind of documentary about Jamaica, its people, and its setting.  My going away choice was The Garment Jungle.  From 1957 and starring Kerwin Matthews, it is a noirish take on trying to unionize garment workers in NYC.  It is pretty hard hitting (no pun intended) and grim, and Mathews is good as the son of the owner of a factory who hires hoodlums to keep out the union.  The movie loses its mind in the final ten minutes, however, obviously taken over by some studio numbskull.  Up to the finale, it is quite a good film.  I also chose a 10 minute short feature called Night On Bald Mountain, from 1933.  Not very much these days is as experimental as that film was!  Definitely a minor treasure from the vaults of early animation.

Deb chose The Invisible Man, directed by James Whale and from 1933.  This is a really sadistic film, and having not read the book yet I have to think that some of murders are likely contained in Wells' story.  Claude Rains sings and dances and pulls pranks (like sending a train off a cliff killing a hundred people) as the invisible one, among some of the greatest special effects ever to come to cinema.  Even today some of the effects are eye popping.  Her going away choice was called The Last Tree, from 2018.  Autobiographical in nature, it tells of the idyllic life of a young black male in foster care in Lincolnshire.  Suddenly mama appears and takes him back to London, where she lives, as we see him as a teen trying to deal with school, friends, and important choices he must make.

Lastly, my regular choice for this week is called Downpour, another filmed banned in its home country, namely Iran.  From 1972, the b & w gem was restored under Scorcese's Film Foundation.  Only one print remained, and it was badly damaged and in the director's possession.  Other prints of this tragi-comedy had been destroyed by the regime that took over after a period of freedom in Iran.  The film concerns a hopeless loser trying to make his way as a teacher in a small village, and the impact he makes before he is transferred (for becoming too popular).  This is a really strange film, but ultimately quite likeable.

Tomorrow (Saturday) Jenn will visit from Cambridge, meeting us in Kingsville.  Jenn and I will partake of local craft beer while Deb visits her mom, joining us afterwards.  Likely some photos to follow.

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

 

Try To Remember....

 November is a strange month.  Americans have Veterans' Day, and we here in Canada have Remembrance Day, both on November 11, and both are somber.  But Americans also have their biggest holiday of the year on the last Thursday of the month, their Thanksgiving Day (which includes major Santa Claus parades nation wide).  And I am sad to say that the anniversary of the death of Anita G. also happens in this dark, cold, and mostly dreary month.  Instead of celebrating her 63rd birthday with friends and family, her passing will have occurred three years ago this month (on her 60th birthday).  I can't even imagine how Randy gets through November, let alone the rest of the months.  He has a grandchild now, something I am sure helps keep him going.

Though it is dark and dreary tonight, it is mild, and has been most of the month.  The leaves are finally beginning to change.  A bit of snow is forecast for Sunday, but nothing very scary.  In case any readers are wondering where I've been lately, I will just say that we have had four clear nights in a row.  I had enough energy and drive to use three of them for observing in the countryside, a drive of 40 miles each way.  The notes are now finished, and I have some free time again.  Piano practice was not affected, but movie watching suffered considerably, as did reading time.

This Saturday I hope to meet up with Jenn G., my former student/drinking buddy (the other is Amanda).  We are planning to meet in Kingsville.  Jenn lives in Cambridge, about three hours drive east of here.  Kingsville has three brewery taprooms on its short main street, as well as a fine cafe, a chocolate shop, and many other places of interest.  Deb's mom is in a retirement home in the community, so Deb will join us after visiting with her mom (and drive me home).

Deb's next infusion is on Thursday.  She has been taking a drug called Symponi now for over 7 years, in combination with a low dose of methotrexate, and her RA symptoms have mostly vanished as a result.  Since then she has climbed the highest mountain in New Mexico, and had shoulder surgery, among other feats of endurance (such as living with me during those years).  She continues to make animated short films of very high quality, and recently (this week and last) has won yet more awards for three of her films now showing in festivals worldwide.  Her name is certainly out there in the world of film.

I haven't taken any photos yet this autumn, but here is a nice one from an earlier time, of our backyard.  It's looking very similar out back this week.

Mapman Mike

October Reading Summary

 I did not lose any reading nights to astronomy last month, nor does it seem likely I will lose any in November.  What's good for the reading program isn't so great for the observing program.  Last night it cleared up later, but it was far too windy to consider standing in an open field near a giant windmill.  Besides, it was Samhain, and the indoor party began around 5:30 pm and went to close on midnight.  At this point the old timers retired, awakening to a frosty, sunny, bright November morning.

The month began with Silverberg's The World Inside, a collection of connected stories first published together here.  Published in 1983, the volume contains six stories from the early seventies, on the theme of living inside a vast building tower, 3 km high.  There are hundreds and hundreds of these high rise buildings, but our stories consist of only one of those buildings, and a narrow number of floors of it and characters in it.  Urban Monad 116 has over 800,000 inhabitants.  Though all the stories are first rate, the last one, where one of the building inhabitants finally goes walkabout outside, is the best of the bunch.  Recommended and enjoyable, and would have made an even longer series if the author had wished.

Anthony's third novel in his Incarnations Of Immortality series is called With A Tangled Skein, and concerns the affairs of Fate and her three manifestations.  Though well written for the most part, with an engaging heroine, the novel is mostly light entertainment, with little to no edge.  Anthony is writing for purely commercial purposes at this point (1980s), and it shows.  The series started out okay, but has gone downhill quickly.

Once again my program was rescued by Harry Harrison, helped this time by Marvin Minsky (!!).  The Turing Option, despite being written in 1992, is still among the last words in AI research, or, as it is called in the book MI (Machine Intelligence).  The story is part spy/adventure and part SF, and its fast moving pace does not detract from the seriousness of the issues at hand, namely what kind of MI we will soon all be dealing with in our daily lives (and in many cases already are).  Harrison is such a good writer that nearly everything turns to gold in his hands.  It's pretty amazing that a book written 30 years ago can still be on top of things.  Highly recommended.

In Swordships of Scorpio, Kenneth Bulmer's 4th novel in his nearly endless Dray Prescott series, he seems to regain some of his love for writing good stories.  I found the first three books quite dull and uninspiring, despite being packed with action and adventure.  I have committed to reading only the first five books of the series, which make up a cycle of stories.  The 4th one gave me some hope that I might be willing to carry on a bit further.  We'll see.

Saturn Patrol by E C Tubb is another good, old fashioned pulp SF adventure, about a mercenary soldier who starts out at the bottom and eventually runs a fleet of ships.  It is quite short, very fast moving, yet takes time for details that other pulp writers simply would never linger over.  Tubb can be a very good writer when he chooses, and though this novel is pretty good, it doesn't come close to his best material.

I've lost count as to how many home runs Jack Williamson has hit lately, but he just slugged another one out of the ball park.  Firechild is one of the most cynical and depressing stories I have ever read.  Why?  Because it tells the truth about us, our governments, and our goals.  Ever wonder what might happen if a lone alien landed on Earth?  Wonder no more.  Ever wonder what might happen if Jesus returned today?  Wonder no more.  By comparison to what happens to a newly created life form in this story, his getting crucified would seem like a happy birthday party!  Essential reading, though not easy to do so.

The Warhound and the World's Pain is Michael Moorcock's telling of the finding of the Holy Grail.  The story is set in grim times, in Germany during the 30 Years War.  After having just about enough of killing and looting, Elrich Von Beck seeks some peace and quiet.  He finds it temporarily, in an empty castle.  Eventually the owner returns, bringing Von Beck's peace and solitude to an end.  He soon embarks on a quest for the Grail.  This is a simple and straightforward tale, but gripping and fascinating all the same.  Elements of myth are stripped down to their bare essentials, as is often the case in Moorcock's stories.  A very good read, if you can get through the first few pages of war.  Medieval Europe was not a pretty place to raise a family.

The Gamesman by Barry Malzberg is a very weird story, set in the same world as his previous novel, though they can barely said to be connected.  A lone man decides to play the Game.  If he wins, he is promised great rewards.  However, it is common knowledge that no one ever wins.  So why try it?  His first big challenge is to have successful sex with a woman (his choice of challenge).  He gets ten tries, and the story begins on his sixth or seventh failed attempt.  No one writes about sex like Malzberg, or about humiliation.  Of course, like Captain Kirk in his Starfleet exam, there is a way to win at the Game.  Cheat.  Which, of course, ruins the entire concept of the Game.  This is a Kafkaesque drama, without much of Malzberg's dark humour.  It is dark, however.

Next came a short story volume by James Blish.  After these stories I only have one novel of his to reread, and then I will be finished with another writer in the Avon/Equinox series.  Works of Art is the second large hardcover volume dedicated to the author by NESFA.  Like the other volume, it contains a wonderful essay, this time by G. Feeley.  Then come 19 stories, consisting of novellas, novelettes, and short stories.  The Bridge, from 1952, is the first of what later would become Cities In Flight, his magnum opus.  Earthman Come Home is another novella that became part of his great SF series.  The Box, The Oath, and FYI are stories too good to be believed, as well as a number of other ones that I have read recently in other collections in my library.  The cover to the Blish volume wins this month's award for best cover art.

Best cover art for October reading, by John Berkey. 

Moving from the Avon/Equinox books now, I was able to get through 2 1/2 unrelated works.  I will start with Guy Gavriel Kay's absolutely incredible novel, A Brightness Long Ago.  Set in a fantasy version of Renaissance Italy, the writing seems to be a successful cross between Umberto Eco and E R Eddison in his Mistress books.  I will be reading more by this fabulous author.  The book had been on my shelf for two years before it made its way to the front of the line, and was a gift from Jenn G.  I will be forcing it upon Deb very soon.

I have been collecting Delphi complete works of various authors on my Kindle Fire tablet, which I have come to enjoy reading with more and more.  Being able to adjust the screen brightness for time of day, as well as the font size (bigger at night), and have a very light green background instead of white for the stories, and to be able to find anything in the volume in seconds (I learned how to use the bookmark feature, finally), has made me a huge fan.  Not to mention that I now carry around with me about ten thousand books I must read, some of them quite long.

Recent Delphi author acquisitions include F. Marion Crawford, and today I've added Ernest Bramah, both encountered in my journey through the Ballantine adult fantasy series (see separate webpage, still a popular one with readers).  And so the next two books I am reading come from the Delphi collection.  I recently finished a book of short stories by Lord Dunsany, called The Travel Tales of Mr. Joseph Jorkens.  Dunsany has invented a wonderful character in Jorkens, and has come up with a brilliant framing scheme in which to tell his fantastic tales.  Jorkens is a member of the Billiards Club for men.  A small group of them mostly sit around the fire at the club and tell each other stories.  Jorkens' tales are by far the best, but are they true?  Jorkens will begin one his unusual tales whenever someone offers to buy him a large whisky, providing they don't try to disprove or ridicule him.  Some of the stories are off the scale in brilliance, and all of them are entertaining and magical.  Dunsany writes fantasy like no one else ever could, and this first group of 13 tales is a must read for fans of that genre.  Luckily, he wrote several more volumes featuring Jorkens.  Favourite stories in this volume (though I loved them all) are How Jembu Played For Cambridge, A Large Diamond, A Daughter of Ramses, Mrs. Jorkens, and The Witch of The Willows (one of the best stories ever written).

So I read 11 books in October, 9 related to my reading project.  Several were quite long, too.  I am also halfway though the first book of Kate Chopin's short stories about Creole life in Louisiana in the late 1900s.  I am enjoying these immensely, too, as they take me to a world nearly as alien as those of some of the SF stories I read.  They are also part of the Delphi series of complete works.  More on these next month, when I finish them.

Only one movie to report on today.  On Saturday evening we watched The Raven, from 1935, again starring Karloff and Lugosi.  This time the roles are reversed, as Karloff turns out to be the good guy, and Lugosi the mad villain.  The movie has more to do with Poe than the earlier one we watched last week, called The Black Cat.  Grim fun for all ages.

Now showing on Criterion. 

Mapman Mike