Normalcy Returns

Deb's stent was removed last Thursday, bright and early at Met Hospital.  It was becoming very uncomfortable, so she is happy now that it is gone.  Three days later and she finally feels more like her old self.  Speaking of old self, yours truly has a birthday today, along with Bilbo and Frodo and the Autumnal Equinox.  There will be much celebrating.  There will be cake.  No wood fire, however.  Yet again the weather is too summer-like to have a fire.  It hasn't rained here in nearly a month, so for my birthday I want rain; lots of rain.  I've been watering our new grass around the deck and it is growing just fine.  But everything else is very very thirsty.

Last time around I promised myself some reflecting.  I will focus first on Travel, and what we have accomplished so far in life.  My love of travel hit me at a very early age.  As a young teen I would walk the railroad tracks near our house, often for many miles, just to see what was around the next curve.  Various friends would accompany me and we would have a fine day.  No food, no water.  Crappy shoes.  Just walking all day, often in the sun.  Usually we would hear trains approaching us from behind, but sometimes they would sneak up if they were coasting.  Two close calls.  We usually hitch-hiked home afterwards, tired and very thirsty.  There were no plastic water bottles back then, only canteens.  We carried nothing.  Sometimes we would have money, and if we ended up in a town with a corner store we would buy a pop.  Later on I fid some solo hitch-hitch-hiking, mostly south towards Parry Sound.  Maybe a part of me knew that Deb lived there.  I made it as far as Pointe-au Baril one Saturday, about 75 miles from home.  No i.d., but some cash.  There was a store at the end of my journey, with a very cute and very freckled girl working there.  We chatted while I drank my pop, then I turned around and got a lift back to Sudbury.  This ride was interesting.  It was two black dudes from Detroit and they were driving a Cadillac.  I could barely understand them, but they were fun to ride with.

 

Lake Penage was where our family camp was located.  It was a camp at first, too.  No electricity, no phone and no road.  We had to arrive by boat.  Over the years the camp got turned into a "cottage", which was pretty much like a house only right on a beautiful lake.  From here I would do day trips with a small boat, sometimes alone but often with Kenny T., a cousin-like friend who had a camp near us, and a very young cousin, Bill.  Bill and I ended up going for a really fun canoe day trip, driven far into the wilderness by my Uncle Jimmy.  He picked us up later.  We explored a lake, having to portage in, but we found a creek that allowed us to paddle out.  We also encountered a black bear.  I have many black bear stories, including a few from New Mexico.  But this time we were paddling out from our day at a remote lake along a very shallow and very narrow stream.  We came across what we thought was a small bear.  We stopped paddling to watch it.  All of a sudden the bear became very, very large.  It had been standing in a hole!  We both started paddling, but in opposite directions.  The canoe made a complete circle before we finally got going.  We were laughing so hard we could barely paddle.  the bear could have had us for dinner quite easily, but luckily it became startled by two maniacs in a canoe and it took off.  Here's the punch line.  Behind the bear, which was only about thirty feet from us, was a rock wall, a cliff about thirty feet high.  That bear just ran right up the cliff before disappearing into the woods.

 

The La Cloche Mountains as seen from the big hill behind our camp.  Part of those mountains could be seen from our camp.  They are about 20 miles away to the southwest.

 

When Deb began visiting the lake she and I would do similar day trips to the far reaches of the small lakes that surround Penage by the dozen.  We spent our honeymoon in August of 1976 at the camp, doing canoe and boat day trips (we also got married at a small church on the lake).  That led to two major canoe trips in the fall of 1977 and 1978.  From the camp, and from any nearby hill, the outline of the La Cloche Mountains could be seen.  They were about twenty miles away to the southwest.  As a kid I often fantasized about those mountains.  I could see them very clearly in the telescope from camp.  But it wasn't until Deb and I undertook our two canoe trips that I really got to know the mountains.  It was my very first taste of real mountains.  It was also the first time I heard pine trees sighing mightily in the night time downdraft from the mountains.  That was to become a frequent sound in New Mexico, and much sought after even today.  Not only did I never forget those two trips (one of them, the first, being more memorable due to an ungodly overnight series of thunderstorms that left us totally soaked), but it led us on to more and more mountains, including Mexico (three trips) and Spain (2 visits to mountains).  Then, of course, came New Mexico... (to be continued).

 

Some scenes from our two long distance canoe trips in the La Cloche Mountains, 1977 and 1978. 

 

In movie news there are three to report.  We finished the series called The Last Enemy.  From 2008, its five episodes are a paranoid conspiracy theory nutcake's dream.  In fact, I now wonder just how much this series influenced all the anti-vaccination fruitcakes out there.  The government already controls most people through identity cards and universal surveillance, but they want to take it much further in this near future dystopian nightmare.  They vaccinate a group of Afghan refugees against disease.  All well and good.  But they include a microscopic i.d. chip to help trace where these people end up.  But things go badly wrong and the added chip causes a death from flu-like symptoms.  Things go quickly downhill from there.  So the lesson from this, my friends, is don't drink the government kool-aid, or take their damned vaccinations.  Anyway, it's a pretty taut and dramatic series with some fine acting.  However, I would have no great urge to ever rewatch it (until it all comes true).

 

Now streaming on PBS Masterpiece. 

 

Nell is from 1994 and was directed by Michael Apted.  It stars Jodie Foster, Liam Neeson and Natasha Richardson.  Here is the blurb from Criterion:

 

Inspired by the true story of Poto and Cabengo—the American twins raised largely in isolation who were found to have developed their own language—this poignant drama soars thanks to an extraordinary, Academy Award–nominated performance from Jodie Foster. When doctor Jerry Lovell (Liam Neeson) discovers a young woman (Foster) living in seclusion in the backwoods of North Carolina, he is intrigued by her unusual behavior and unique pattern of speech. Together with a psychologist (Natasha Richardson), Lovell is determined to pierce Nell’s private world and protect her from the courts—and a life of scientific study. In a race against time and a system bent on shattering her spirit, he and Nell forge a connection that will transform them both. 

 

Foster is pretty amazing in her role as the surviving twin, who learned to talk from a mother who had had a stroke.  Add the Tennessee twang to that and see if you can understand anything she says.  Also, the girls invented words.  Finally discovered after the death of her mother, we watch Neeson and Richardson, both doctors, try to bring the girl into the 20th C.  Foster's body language, added to her facial expressions and unique way of speaking, add up one pretty amazing performance.  A rewarding film to watch, this one is highly recommended.  Foster was nominated for the best actress award, but lost out that year to Jessica Lange.

 

Leaving Criterion Sept. 30th. 

 

Lastly comes another Sammo Hung kung fu film from Hong Kong.  The Magnificent Butcher is from 1979 and was directed by Yuen Woo-Ping.  Bogged down by endless "fighting", the kung fu is more like the Chinese circus acrobatic kind, which is at first quite amusing, but quickly wears thin.  Imagine a concert pianist sitting down and zipping through some scales before he begins to play.  But instead of actually playing any pieces, those scales just keep coming and coming.  For two hours.  Some of the humour works, but some doesn't (an alcoholic kung fu master is just a wee bit overdone).  Mixing humour with horrible violence and the deaths of innocent people seems to be the way Sammo works.  This might be the last of his films that will be reviewed here, though he did a horror kung fu movie that I might look at someday.

 

Now showing on the Criterion Channel. 

 

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reflecting

Sticking so close to home for as long as we have of late, there has been time to catch up on some thinking.  Not the kind that hurts (like memorizing piano repertoire), but a more pleasant kind, as in what have I seen and done during my long life.  Our most recent travels have mainly been to the USA, with a road trip to Little Rock with a focus on prehistoric sites, a flight to New Orleans with a road trip from there to visit some State highpoints, as well as visit New Orleans for the first time, and a much longer road trip last October with some spectacular hiking in Indiana, Oklahoma, Texas and New Mexico.  I have several blogs devoted to travel.

Though travel has been and always will be part of my life, it isn't the most important part.  First comes music, both learning repertoire for piano and playing it for friends, as well as attending concerts.  Next comes Astronomy.  If I lived in a dark sky location I would use every available clear night for some kind of observing program; as it is I have to drive 38 miles each way to reach a suitably dark sky.  Reading would have to rate very highly, also.  I read every single day, at least two hours if possible.  I have two separate blogs for what I read, as well as monthly summaries reported here.

 

Between now and ? I will take some time when writing these blogs to discuss some of the highlights of my life in each of these categories: music, astronomy, reading and travel.  Those four activities probably define who I am than any other ones.  I watch a lot of movies, too, and TV series, but that aspect in usually covered in my everyday blogs (here).

 

In health news Deb began to feel better on Thursday, nearly a week after her surgery.  She actually put her pajamas and housecoat aside and got dressed, a good sign in itself.  One more week with the stent (6 days, actually), and hopefully all will be well as far as urology goes.  The next crisis point will be her first of what will become monthly blood tests to see if her liver can handle the new RA drug.  We should know by the 25th of this month if she can continue using it.

 

Meanwhile, her newest film has just been released (see her website, listed at top left margin).  She has two other films showing in England, one on Saturday in Lewes and one soon in London.  And next week she has one showing in Toronto.  She is always invited to these things.  We'll see about Toronto, as it's still pretty far away.

 

In film watching news there are two to mention, both chosen by Deb.  One from China and one from Japan.  Dying To Survive is the Chinese one, and is from 2018.  It is more or less the true story of one man's attempt to get cheaper medicine smuggled in to the country for leukemia patients who can not afford the officially approved medicine.  Told with considerable humour, the sympathy is also there but not overplayed.  The film was a huge hit in China and actually caused the government to relent and begin covering the cost of the drug for patients.  Recommended viewing and directed by Wen Muye.

 

Leaving Criterion Sept. 30th. 

 

From Japan comes Undercurrent, a drama from 1956 directed by Kozaburo Yoshimura.  A beautiful woman who dyes cloth and designs kimonos falls in love with a married university professor.  Though she has no problem allowing him to cheat on his wife, things take a different turn when she finds out that the wife is dying.  He says something to the dyer that immediately turns her off to him, though to a westerner it seems an innocent enough comment, about them not having to wait long now to be together.  She assumes he thinks that she has waiting for the wife to die.  A miscommunication and she destroys her one chance for happiness.  Though essentially a soap opera, it is very well done.  The kimono designs, however, is probably the best reason to try and catch this film for yourself sometime.  An honest film with some very odd turns.

 

Undercurrent is now showing on Criterion. 

 

We are currently watching a 2008 4 part series called The Last Enemy, starring Benedict Cumberpatch, Robert Carlyle, Eva Birthistle.  More later.

 

Mapman Mike 

 

 

Surgery Success

Deb's 2nd kidney stone removal surgery in 4 months finally happened today.  She was first on the table this morning in Leamington, which meant a very early start for us.  We left home at 5:45 am to get Deb there by 6:45 am.  She was out and back in the car well before 10:00 am and is currently at home, resting comfortably, as they say.  Or perhaps not so comfortably.  She has a stent in place for the next two weeks, and can't go far from home.  She has some happy pills to take for the first few days.  Her newest urologist is keen to discover the reason why these things are happening.  Not only did he zap a 1cm beastie this morning, but he also found two more in her kidney which he also removed.  So now we can concentrate on getting her RA back under control again, then worry about her lung blood clots.  Fun times.  Funny thing is she will likely be ready for a trip to London next month, but my foot is still holding me back.  I went off anti-inflammatory pills for several days to see how things were going.  I'm back on the pills today.  I've had no contact from my physician regarding the recent ultra sound results.  I guess I will have to contact him.

We finally watched the final episode of Season Three of Picard.  It's not that it's bad, but it's just the same old stuff over and over again, this time with the full old timer crew from Next Generation taking part.  There is nothing new in Star Trek, and there hasn't been for years.  In this series the big bad Borg are back, the writers seeming to forget that the first season was all Borg related, too.  With a full ending that saw the evil Borg queen combined with a good human, thus ending her days of tyranny.  No mention of any that in season 3. Sigh and ho hum.  I will spoil the ending for everyone by saying that at the very last second the good guys manage to save the Universe and everyone in it, with barely a scratch suffered.  Good job you guys.

 

We've been watching a British series called Canal Boat Diaries, where "Robbie" takes on English canals by himself for five seasons of narrow boating. Robbie is a good bloke, and his boat, the Naughty Lass--a pun on the Nautilus--has many quiet adventures on the mostly peaceful canal.  Robbie is an explorer at heart, always on the move (albeit slowly) and always looking forward to the next lock or bend in the river.  The English canal system is a true marvel of the world.  While the US also had a vast canal system, it was abandoned long ago and never rebuilt for pleasure boaters.  Ontario also has a great canal system, though I have never seen a long series about it.

 

Two recent films are up next.  To The Devil A Daughter is a suitably gory Hammer film from 1976 and directed by Peter Sykes.  It has a big name cast that includes Richard Widmark as the Van Helsingish hero, Christopher Lee as the Dracula-ish villain and Nastassja Kinski as the 17 year old nun who is at the centre of the evil plot.  She was only 15, and appears in a total nude scene near the film's end.  A number of unnecessary deaths plague the film, not to mention the nude scene.  A filmy flowing gown would have been much better (for the actress, too).  It was Dennis Wheatley's second collaboration with Hammer.

 

Now showing on Criterion as part of their Nunsploitation series. 

 

We last watched Port of Shadows in May 2014, so it was high time to see it again.  From 1938 the film was directed my Marcel Carne and stars the immutable and unflappable Jean Gabin as a soldier who has deserted.  He becomes involved with the incredibly beautiful Michele Morgan, stuck working for her lusty godfather played evilly by Michel Simon.  It's a great little film filled with small but interesting characters and situations.  The film seems to centre around a small dog that befriends Gabin when he saves it from being run over by a truck.  The dog follows him everywhere and might be the most interesting character in the film.  As soon as the dog joins him Gabin's luck turns to the better.  However, the one time that he leaves him behind is the one time that his luck runs out.  The dog returns to its shadowy life in the woods, along again.  I felt sadder for the dog than for the woman who lost Gabin to a low life cheap hoodlum.  A recommended film.

 

Leaving Criterion Sept. 30th. 

 

Mapman Mike

 

 

August 2025 Reading Summary

E C Tubb works within a formula, one that produces gems nearly every time.  In Classical era music, Sonata Form was used thousands of times by composers, and while essentially the form is the same in each piece, it still amazes us today what some of those composers could do with it.  Understand the form and you will understand the music.  Take F J Haydn, for example.  104 symphonies, dozens of string quartets, trios, etc.  He wrote hundreds of sonata form movements in his life, each one different from the rest, and each one successfully tackling a new problem.  He never seemed to tire of it, and good listeners will always be impressed by what he did accomplish.  Is E C Tubb the Haydn of the pulp SF novel?  You bet he is!

 

Planet of Dread is from 1974 and is a skimpy 126 pages long (many Haydn Symphonies are quite short).  Cap Kennedy and his crew are the Doc Savage gang of outer space.  In each novel they are given one major problem to solve, which usually breaks down into several smaller ones.  The writing is so fast paced and the novel so short that there is usually no time for a coda; this book ends about one second after the climax.  When paid by the word, Tubb made certain he did not write beyond the limit.  I doubt Haydn would have been so strict, but then he is an artist, albeit one with a very strong work ethic.  Had Tubb been paid for another page of writing he likely would have ended the novel in a less breathless fashion. 

Cap is on hand for the signing of a contract between a newly adopted planet and the Earth syndicate.  An assassination attempt goes wrong and one of Cap's men is injured to near death.  Known medicine cannot help him, and Cap decides to transport him to the planet of the title.  There, almost anything can be cured, but there is a catch.  Cap must undergo something similar to the trials of Hercules in order to help his friend receive the care he needs.  This takes up a large part of the novel, after which we finally get back to the problem at hand; namely, why was an assassination attempt made and who made it.  The final part of the book deals with the original problem, and it is a slam bang finish to an action-packed story.  I'm not certain if this is Tubb at his best, but it's head and shoulders above so many other pulp writers.  I would love to have discovered what he could have done with a longer novel.  Perhaps, like Haydn, he preferred to be terse, leaving the epics for the Beethovens and Mahlers of the world.

 

I have seldom been disappointed by the Dray Prescott series written by Kenneth Bulmer.  However, this novel managed to do it.  From 1985, Werewolves of Kregen is well named.  It lasts for 127 pages, much shorter than most in this series.  I was so relieved when several volumes ago an all-powerful evil wizard, who could do anything to anybody anytime he wanted, was finally killed off.  It was no use.  Now his even more evil son and mother are at work.  I certainly don't mind seeing wizards (and witches) in heroic fantasy, but to make them able to do just about anything to the good guys, while their own wizards watch helplessly, gets very tiresome very quickly.  And so, in the first of what will likely be several novels, it begins.  The evil ones turn Dray Prescott's private guards into werewolves.  I won't bother to explain the elaborate process which causes such a thing, as it is much too far-fetched.  It's easier to simply believe in werewolves than in the method chosen by the evil ones.  Werewolves run around killing girls (mostly) and eating them.  This happens again and again until the dimwitted good guys figure out a way to stop them.  For the first time in a while I am not looking forward to the next book in this series. 

 

On to the Delphi Classics collection.  Next up was Enid Blyton's Five Run Away Together, from 1944.  Being a child in southern England during the blitz could not have been much fun.  Enid did her part by writing several stories to help take young minds off the realities of bombs falling where they lived.  Many children were shipped north, either to relatives or families willing to take them in during the war.  C. S. Lewis built his entire Narnia series around a group of children escaping London during the war, escaping into Narnia through an old wardrobe.  Blyton's young heroes and heroines have no war to contend with.  But their summer holiday is nearly ruined when George's mother gets very ill suddenly and is taken to hospital.  They are left in the care of an evil housekeeper, her husband, their halfwit son and a smelly dog.  Things don't go well.  Blyton allows the oldest boy, Julian, to stand up to the cruelties heaped upon the children and their dog.  George, whose house it is, decides to run away until her mother returns home.  The others agree to go with her.  They return to the little island where their first adventure took place (this is their third).  George/Georgina is an interesting character, one familiar to anyone who grew up with a lot of friends.  She is a girl who wants to be a boy.  She dresses like one, acts like one, and hates anyone who calls her Georgina.  I wonder if Blyton knew what she was doing here, and how she would have felt about allowing her character to trans to a male?  It is exactly what the many Georgina/Georges of the world need to do.  Knowing a bit about the author, she would have been horrified with the very thought.  Instead, she more likely believed it was cute in a young girl and that she would outgrow such feelings and eventually welcome motherhood and all the rest.  But her mistake was in making George such a strong character; there is no mother to be in George.  Her teen and adult life will always be one of conflict, self-doubt, and likely great emotional upheaval.  Poor George.

 

Original cover art. 

 

Ernest Bramah's The Secret of the League is from 1907 and is a very lengthy read.  It is a political thriller likely of no interest to anyone anymore and might be better off forgotten.  Or perhaps not.  In a make believe England sometime after the millenium (1900), the socialist party in power have given away nearly everything to the lower working classes, who only continue to support them as long as they keep receiving.  This is quickly impoverishing the nation, and the capitalist party wishes to end things and get the country back on its won two feet.  Much of the novel is about how they went about preparing, planning and executing their large scale derring do take over.  While this is fun to read and fascinating itself, what the book really accomplishes for a more modern reader (say about the year 2025) is to instruct him in socialism's beginnings in England, how it spread like a disease, and why it needs to be tempered with some form of reality.  While most of us know that today's capitalism not only exploits many workers, it is also destroying the very planet itself.  Any form of lifestyle that depends for its very existence on continuous growth is bound to eventually hit a wall; a big impenetrable one.  By the end of Brahma's book a thoughtful reader will be doing a lot of thinking.  Communism is a dead end, as is capitalism (though at least with the latter we can all die with champagne in our glasses).  Trying to find the workable balance somewhere between the extremes is the only way to survive our own greed, stupidity and arrogance.  One little SF note: in Bramah's England flight is just getting off the ground.  Not with airplanes, mind you, but with wings!  A nice little twist indeed.

 

The hero arrives to save the girl after a brutal wintry flight. From Bramah.

 

Thuvia, Maid of Mars is Edgar Rice Burroughs' fourth Martian novel.  It is from 1920.  Thuvia, a maid of Mars (and, of course, a princess), gets kidnapped by a bad guy who lusts after her.  John Carter's son (a prince, by chance) goes after him, as he is in love with Thuvia.  It's the oldest story ever told, and Burroughs gives it the works.  If you ever have a bad day, try comparing yours to that of Carthoris, John Carter's son (always put the horis ahead of the Cart).  First his princess is kidnapped.  Then suspicion falls on him.  He rushes off to save her, but someone has sabotaged his airboat,  He has to walk really far, fight some monsters, outwit two magicians, fight some more monsters, find the princess, lose her again, fight some six-armed huge green warriors.  All this before breakfast.  Edgar Rice Burroughs opened the door to so many different authors of SF and fantasy that his influence on future writers can be no less than that of Tolkien.  The Dray Prescott series by Kenneth Bulmer (see above) is one example.  Michael Moorcock's Martian trilogy is another.  I will always love reading Burroughs, even if all his heroines act exactly the same way (they are haughty and somewhat cruel to the good guy who loves her), and even if all his heroes are pretty similar, too.  Bring on #5, The Chessmen of Mars!

 

Cover of 1969 edition by Bob Abbett. There are about a thousand covers of this title, one of Burrough's most popular stories.  I own the edition above, but read it on Delphi Classics. As can be seen, there is not a lot of need for clothing on Mars.  Boxer shorts for him, and a bikini with fetching cape for her.  Add weapons for him and jewellery for her.

 

 We now take a hard right turn.  Sir Richard Burton's Personal Pilgrimage to Al Madinah and Meccah was first published in three volumes in 1855.  I am reading the fourth edition, with updated forewords, in the Delphi Classics collection.  Burton undertook the Haj in 1853.  The first book mostly deals with the time he spent in Cairo, Suez and Al Medinah.  At nearly 500 pages, I will wait for another time to continue the journey.  Try to imagine a non-believer British white man trying to pass himself off as an Arabic-speaking believer making the great pilgrimage to Mecca.  For one thing he would have to be awfully good with the language.  For another, his skin could have to be rather tanned.  If the truth had ever come out on the journey, he likely would have been stoned and beaten to death.  But he pulled it off.  Arriving first in Alexandria, he takes the persona of a Persian doctor.  By the time he has arrived in Cairo (on the little steamer "The Little Asthmatic") his friends have convinced him to try something else, as Persians were treated badly by Arabs and Egyptians.  So he changes into an Afghani doctor (more language skills necessary).  We get wonderful descriptions all along the journey of people and places, and the many small situations that arise.  Finally departing for Suez we cross the Sinai and spend time at the dismal settlement (pre-canal days).  From there we move on to Al Medinah, where a considerable part of the first book (about half) takes place.  It is fun comparing his stops with modern day Google Earth and Maps, to see how much things have changed (highways for one thing, instead of camel routes).  Places he visited on excursions from Al-Medinah, for example, are now well within the city.  I found the book quite fascinating, and look forward to reading its continuation in the future.

 

Finally, one of the most enjoyable books I have read in a long time came along, rather unexpectedly.  Heart's Desire is from 1905 and is one of Emmerson Hough's least known and appreciated works.  The title refers to the name of a tiny settlement in New Mexico, years after the Civil War.  The real town was White Oaks, now a mining ghost town.   The settlement is portrayed as Eden, a paradise with no need of doctors, lawmen, the railroad (which is coming soon), or even women.  It's a community of men who escaped from the East, usually because of female troubles.  The book is filled with cowboy wisdom and cowboy folly, and many of the speech mannerisms are quite priceless.  For instance, from one of the characters: "Somethin' better git did, and it better git did blame soon."  Each chapter is often its own story within the main story arc.  Much of the time not much happens.  It's like everyone is asleep, and it will take the intrusion of the railroad to awaken them.  Hough lived in White Oaks for a time, and is a fascinating character himself, easily worth a major biography.  He was a conservationist, among other things, and instrumental in getting the National Park system started, as well as making poaching in the park illegal.  This is American West storytelling at its finest.  Moments of this novel will stay with me a very long time.

 

Mapman Mike