August Reading Summary

 I was slowed down in the middle of the month by some medical issues, taking a very long time to read the Dunsany novel discussed below.  But at least the first five novels, all related to my Avon/Equinox SF Rediscovery authors, went by quickly.  Let us begin, as usual, with Robert Silverberg.

His next crime novel to be recently republished is called Blood on the Mink, first published in Trapped Magazine, 1959.  Besides the main short novel, there are also two shorter tales.  The author gives a modern afterword to his stories.  The plot has to do with a federal agent taking the identity of a criminal, and trying to stop the flow of counterfeit cash coming out of Philadelphia.  There is a lot of tension and a lot of plot thickening in this decent story of underworld crime and violence, which includes a few dames and lots of shooting.  It is a short novel, and I easily read it over the course of a day.  There is some humour regarding night life in Philly.  Worth a read for pulp crime fiction fans.  It would make a decent noir film, even today.  Also included were:

Dangerous Doll, a story from 1960, also to do with counterfeit money.  A Chicago hoodlum is to deliver some plates, but things go wrong when he is tested by the syndicate.  He sells them down the river the first chance he gets, but afterwards he realizes that he is out of chances.

One Night of Violence is from 1959.  An innocent Wisconsin furnace salesman involves himself in an altercation in the motel room next to his, and soon regrets his interference.  It leads to a shootout between two Chicago gangs in the motel and parking lot.  A lively story!

 

Cover art by Michael Koelsch.  I read the Kindle edition. 

 

In A Fortune For Kregen, we have arrived at the 21st book of the Dray Prescott series, one in which Bulmer's imagination continues to impress readers.  Things take yet another different turn in this novel from 1979.  At first it seems like the same old thing, as Dray once again is captured and becomes a slave.  But soon things develop, and the adventure we read about could easily be transferred to a Lara Croft Tomb Raider game.  Dray is a slave in a large expedition that heads to a vast underground burial site, protected by traps and wizardry, including monsters, ghouls, walls that close in, and even stinging insects.  Most people are out for loot from the burial tombs.  The underground caverns have grown vast over the centuries, and the traps more diabolical and dangerous.  Dray just wants to get out, alive if possible.  Though never quite up to the sword and sorcery standards of Fritz Leiber, Bulmer has created a world filled with excitement, adventure, and danger.  That includes wizardry, which takes a front seat in this story.  A fun read, and quite different from most of the other entries in this enticing series.

 

The fifth book of E C Tubb's Cap Kennedy series (he is a secret agent for Earth) is called Jewel of Jarhen, dates from 1974, and is a brief 111 pages.  It features a good opening chapter, as the cruel leader of a medieval-type world is killed while on a hunt, and his more rational younger brother has to take over.  The title jewel itself is quite intriguing, and forms the central plot line of the story, nicely mixing science with sorcery.  Cap and his boys are charged with a diplomatic mission, even though they are warriors rather than diplomats.  This puts a different spin on the story as well.  Science and magic and superstition meet on the planet Jarhen, as three civilizations compete for the right to trade with the backward planet and help it along its course of growth.  When the previous Earth diplomat is found drowned in his bed, far from any water, Cap is called in.  Good thing Cap can swim.  How did someone drown when they weren't near water?  Read this fun pulp adventure story to find out.

Barry Malzberg's (writing as Mike Barry) Peruvian Nightmare is from 1974 and is 137 pages long.  The story picks up directly after #6 in this series, about a lone wolf out to exterminate the North American drug trade after his girlfriend was killed by an overdose.  Burt Wulf lands in Peru, where he is trapped in a large hotel.  The bad guy from book 6, Calabrese, just wanted Wulf out of the country and out of his hair, but realizes too late that he should have had him killed instead.  Wulf is helped out by the hotel owner, who has a little job for him, and who promises to get him out of the country at the same time.  Book 7 includes a narrative recap of many of the events that happened in earlier books, but finally gives us some details about his relationship with his deceased girlfriend.  The book spends a lot of time inside Wulf's head, and the on-going killings, still a goodly number of them, seem to take a backseat to the man's introspective life.  In Peru Wulf takes a bus to Cuzco, where his bus is ambushed by Calabrese's men.  He is ambushed again at the climax of the novel, on a narrow ledge along a high mountain trail.  The death of two horses in this scene is very unpleasant, and is treated in a thoughtless and mostly carefree way.  Kill all the bad people that you want, but leave the animals alone, svp.  We are now halfway through the series, and so far Malzberg is able to make each story not only different, but interesting and mostly fun to read.  Let's hope that Wulf succeeds in eliminating the drug trade, and that in 2024 there will not be anymore overdose deaths (add heavy sarcasm to preceding statement).

 

Lastly from SF writers comes James Blish's More Issues At Hand.  Blish's second group of essays dates from the late 1950s to 1970.  There is more focus here on single novels, rather than shorter stories.  I find myself disagreeing with Blish much of the time, though he speaks many truths and bursts many bubbles.  He seems, to put it bluntly, to be an old fogey.  I do not blame him for trying to raise the standard of SF literature, and for blasting poor writing.  He blames writers, editors, and readers for the problems.   Why does some real drivel get published, and why does some of it even win coveted awards?  Well, Mr. Blish, the universe is filled with mysteries, many of which will never get solved.  Why do voters vote for criminal and psychotic politicians?  Why do people eat tons of junk food every day?  Why do hideous billboards appear on highways that have beautiful natural scenery?  Why do so many women marry male crumb bums?  I could go on.  There isn't much that Blish can do about it, except insult writers and make enemies of them, which he seems to have done rather well.  Among his other incisions, he tears apart the British New Wave SF writers, often with very prescient comments.  I agree with much of what he says here, but what's done is done.  He loves SF literature, but never once mentions the many horrible SF movies that helped lower the bar even further for writers.  For most people, SF means monsters, aliens, and flying saucers, all threatening our existence (are you listening, Dr. Who?) instead of well plotted stories about characters dealing with some form of science problem.  He blames SF writers for trying out new forms, ones which have been prevalent in regular literature for decades.  Since many writers never come to terms with Joyce's writing, nor even attempt to, why belittle SF writers when they try something new in the genre that has never before been done here?  Even failures have their value, providing that the writer and others can learn something from them.  Sometimes he swill rip apart a story without even saying why, though most of the time he gives his reasons for disliking a book.  While some may boil and fume at Blish's criticism, at the time he was only one of two writers even doing such a thing.  Overall, like the first book, this one is well worth reading for SF fans, especially if well read in others areas of literature.  Highly recommended. (The second SF writer to turn critic was Damon Knight--I have seen purchased his book of such from Kindle).

Now comes the free reading period of the month, when nearly anything can turn up.  First up was Curse of the Wise Woman by Lord Dunsany, from 1933.  This is a very special book only to those who have known a piece of land well, and been changed and formed by it.  The Sudbury landscape where I grew up is now completely changed, though for the better.  Still, I cannot return here and see what I saw growing up.  The bare rocks have now sprouted forests, and Sudbury is now green instead of black.  Lake Penage, where our summer camp was located, probably shaped me as a person just as much.  Though the landscape remains much the same, since we sold the camp I can never go back.  My third major influence from the land was New Mexico, with deserts and alpine mountains in heaping quantities.  Much of it remains unchanged, and I am free to visit whenever I can.  Those three landscapes--early Sudbury, Penage, and certain parts of New Mexico will always be with me, even if I cannot always be with them (the former, never again).  Anyone with similar experiences will understand Dunsany's book, and his attempt to show one young man's connection to a vast Irish bog that is about to undergo transforming development from an English peat company.  All that stands in their way is an Irish witch.  This is a story with deep, deep roots in the land, and despite the person being a 'sportsman', the message still comes across loud and clear.  Will the witch be able to save the bog from developers, or will it be lost for all time.  It would be a spoiler to tell, but the ending and the story isn't was this book is about--it's about the land.  A masterpiece.

A book with very special powers to enchant the reader. 

 

T. S. Eliot's Poems 1920 contains 12 poems written up to that year.  Like most Eliot poetry, the surface seems easy to read, but understanding the inner meaning of words and phrases is beyond most casual readers, including this one.  To make matters more difficult, 4 of the poems are entirely in French!  What is a reader to do?  In my case, Genius.com came to the rescue.  This site not only will translate back to English, but will carefully annotate and explain the poem, often line by line.  I found it invaluable in understanding the meaning and relevance of the poem.  Two favourite poems for this reader were the incomparable "Hippopotamus", where a hippo's life is compared to that of the Church.  Biting satire at its finest, not to mention quite funny.  The other is "Dans le Restaurant", one of the French poems.  Chilling and somewhat mystifying.  The poem ends with an early version of Death By Water (written for a good friend killed in the Gallipoli fiasco.

Next came three novellas by Gogol, contained in a volume entitle Arabesques, from 1935.  The first is called The Portrait, and is a lesson for writers in how to tell a good story.  It is a supernatural tale, but one that could also be explained in more rational ways.  In two parts, the first part tells how the purchase of a portrait in a junk shop alters the life of a young artist, in mostly negative ways.  In the 2nd part we learn about the artist who painted the portrait, and the man depicted in the picture.  Though not a hair raising tale and not likely to appeal to fans of Stephen King, it is an extremely well crafted story.  All the information required for readers is eventually given out in Part 2, and after experiencing Part 1, we can make our own judgment of whether or not "the devil' was involved.  An excellent read.

Nevsky Prospekt was next.  The exposition is dedicated to detailing the life of the famous street in St. Petersburg from dawn to dawn.  Then the author begins to tell his story, which is actually two stories.  Two young men, one an artist and one a lieutenant each follow a different beautiful woman they encounter on the boulevard.  The two stories and their outcomes are very different, the second perhaps more unexpected than the first.  These are the kinds of stories that could have produced an entire volume unto themselves based around that street, and perhaps Gogol had such an idea in mind.  But the second story ends so abruptly that it seems as if he tired of the idea and wanted to move on.  Not nearly as satisfying as the first story.

Third and finally came Diary of a Madman.  Some people might actually read this thinking that it is a comedy.  Though not exactly a case study for madness, it does get the idea across of how delusions, often of grandeur, accompany some forms of madness, as well as auditory hallucinations.  The wretched clerk in the story is pretty far gone before the story proceeds very far.  The most entertaining part of the story for this reader was the dialogue and letters between two lap dogs.  But the story becomes more and more horrifying as it proceeds.  Definitely a unique story for its time.  In the present, the streets are where many schizophrenic people end up.  Back then it was in an institution, where treatment was so often brutal and inhuman.

 

Anna Katherine Green's The Sword of Damocles is her third novel and is from 1881.  It is an epic tale, well planned, and divided into five books.  The fun of reading books about love, courtship, and honour from the 1800s is to undertake it like an expedition in archaeology.  What was it like back then for middle and upper class people to get married?  What was expected of the man?  Was it all up to the father of the bride?  All these questions and more will be answered when a book such as this is read.  Besides the love interest of two couples, there is a mystery or two to be solved, including the mysterious reason for Mr. Sylvester's clouded brow.  There is also a type of bank robbery, which casts doubt on the character of one of the young suitors.  Though it is a long novel, it is an easy read.  Occasionally the story itself is interrupted while one of the characters relates a background story.  One of the interesting things about the book, which proves its careful planning, is that virtually every character one meets has a crucial role to play, sometimes much alter in the story.  Just what is the sword that figuratively hangs over the head of Mr. Sylvester?  Nothing much, by today's criminal and moral standards.  But back then it was enough to ruin a man's reputation, and cause him to lose the woman he loves.  Overall it is quite a good novel, and well suited for adaptation to a TV series.

We are watching a crime and mystery literature course on The Great Courses.  This is a very thorough investigation of the genre, beginning with its creator Edgar Allen Poe, through much of Conan Doyle's creation, Sherlock Holmes, delving deeply into Agatha Christie's contributions, continuing on through the American hard boiled detective years of the 1930s, right up to contemporary writers.  One of the episodes spent a lot of time discussing dime novel detectives.  These stories sprang up in the 1800s between the time of Poe's three detective stories and those of Conan Doyle.  One of the most prolific writers of that time, and one which had a huge influence on later detective fiction, went under the by-line of The Old Sleuth, AKA Harlan Page Halsey.  He wrote hundreds of dime novel mysteries back in the 1880s.  I read #12, called The Twin Detectives, or The Missing Heiress, from August 1885.  Written well before Conan Doyle's Holmes stories, I was surprised how many little connections there were between the two.  Doyle was obviously a fan of dime novel detective stories before he set out on his own enterprise.  The dime novels originate in the US, and it is interesting to note that the first Holmes and Watson novel takes place there.  In this story, the detective has to find a missing man and the person to whom he left a fortune.  He has very little to go on, and we follow this brilliant man from step to step as he pieces the puzzle together, one step at a time.  There is considerable humour in the story, as well as tragedy and sadness.  His method of extracting information from people is one similar to one that Holmes uses, and at one point in the story, after telling his client how he ingeniously figured out one part of the puzzle, the client replies that he guesses that being a detective isn't so difficult after all.  Doyle used this quite often in the Holmes stories, with Watson claiming that solving the puzzle was rather easy, after the fact.  I have six more of these short novels on hand, and will likely get through them over the next few months.

Finally came the 17th novel in the Doc Savage series, called The Thousand-Headed Man.  From July 1934, it was written by Lester Dent, a prolific author who wrote over 159 novels.  The book cover gives the house name of Kenneth Robeson as the writer.  When I read these books as a young teen, I was completely unaware of any racism in the stories.  Doc went after bad guys (or they went after him), and they battled it out with guns and wits until Doc finally got the upper hand.  This book has an Oriental bad guy, and some of the worst racism I have ever come across fills the pages.  The dialogue consists of the Chinese men speaking in that horrendous English that writers often used back in the day, and it is truly cringe worthy.  One fun part of the book is that the early part takes place in London, with Doc arriving on the scene to awaiting crowds at Croydon Airfield.  Once the story takes off, literally, and Doc and his comrades fly to Indochina, Dent is at his pulp writing best.  Into the jungle we go, finding lost and isolated pagoda temples and, finally, a vast abandoned city.  The city holds a great mystery, and even Doc is captured and taken prisoner.  But not for long.  Escape for him and the people he has come to rescue seems impossible.  Can he do it?  Dent has a good eye for detail, and after allowing the creation of numerous mystical-seeming events, explains everything by the end.  Except for the racist attitudes to Orientals, the adventure itself is quite a good one.  This reader is a sucker for lost jungle cities and the secrets they hold.

Original 1934 publication.  Cover by Walter B. Baumhofer. 

 

Mapman Mike

 

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

 

March Reading

 I lost seven days of reading in March, due to an unprecedented series of clear nights during the monthly astronomy session.  It wore me to the ground, and I ended up traveling just over 500 miles altogether.  But what a month for observing!  The April session begins on the next clear night, and I am excited to get back to my galaxy observing project.  Despite the loss of a week, I still managed to get through much of my usual amount of reading, including ten books related to the Avon/Equinox series, and one by a non-related author, along with another 4 hours of volume 2 of 1001 Arabian Nights.  Here is last month's line-up:

 

As usual, Robert Silverberg lead things off.  I read To Live Again, a novel from 1969.  The novel (including an intro by the author) seems to fulfill J G Ballard's wish of having SF look inward rather than outward.  Silverberg looks inward in a very unique way: in the future it is possible to have your mind and personality preserved on tape.  Only the very rich can afford such a thing, and updates are suggested every six months.  Once you die, your memories etc. can then be purchased by another rich person.  Impressed into the single mind comes a complementary personality, making inner dialogues possible between the person and their acquired persona, and the person gains the life experiences of their intimate companion.  Not only this, but more than one persona can be added if desired.  I like the idea, and the writing, a lot, even though the complications of such tomfoolery could never really be fathomed.  *** 1/2 stars.

 

Next, I began yet another series by Piers Anthony, called Incarnations of Immortality.  The first novel is called On A Pale Horse, and the novel finds a man suddenly faced with becoming the figure of Death, and having to carry out his day to day duties and responsibilities.  There is a lot of humour, but also some interesting moral decision-making that must be done.  While the book is long, it is followed by a 22 page essay by the author that proves to be every bit as entertaining as the story.  I liked the story, though there were some weaker moments.  The next installment deals with the figure of Time.  *** stars.  

 

One of the best books in the actual Avon/Equinox series is #23, Bring The Jubilee, by Ward Moore.  It is a brilliant book dealing with time travel and the American Civil War, published in 1955.  It would be difficult not to admit the influence of that book on Harry Harrison, in his time travel/Civil War effort called A Rebel In Time.  While I much preferred the Moore novel, the Harrison one has its good points, too.  For one thing, the hero is black.  Imagine being black and educated today and being sent back to the American south in 1859.  Good luck with that.  So Harrison opens a brand new area with his confrontation of racial issues in America.  His writing is always so smooth and stylish, the book reads well and easily, and is hard to put down once begun.  *** stars.

 

From 1971 comes a novel as quirky as its title, The Electric Sword Swallowers (which I cannot fathom).  Nor does the cover byline "Every man his own Napoleon" make any sense, either. This is one of the oddest stories I have ever read, and I've read many odd ones.  In essence, the emperor of a planet (a self-proclaimed Napoleon), reenacts famous battles.  This particular story deals with the Battle of Waterloo at its climax.  Intelligent robots with some human DNA are utilized in the battle, thousands of them.  A group of reformers want to oust him, and use the robots for greater good and profit.  Our hero, Ferdie Foxlee, is hired as a top technician, after barely escaping two previous jobs.

The story begins as a comedy farce, but grows more serious as it goes on.  Some good points are raised throughout the story about revolutions, war, and the inhuman use of robots that are partially intelligent, and can act and feel on their own.  It's the kind of story one comes across more often in Ace Doubles than any other publisher, and I doubt any other publisher would have printed this as is.  Bulmer knows his military history, and he knows his emperors, too.  While I am not a fan of military history (or military anything), I found the book to be highly readable, and so original in concept that I enjoyed reading it a lot.  The ending is also very well handled, as the planet finds a worthy purpose after all, rather than just being a fun place to reenact battles.

*** stars.   

 

Beyond Capella by John Rackham was the unrelated book for the month, an anti-war space adventure from 1971.  Though very sexist for today's reader (what SF wasn't from earlier days?), Rackham at least tackles the issue of women in space and women in combat.  He also tackles other major issues such as the morality and wastefulness of war, computers replacing humans, and even alcohol on board ship (no one smokes on board in this book, either).  *** 1/2 stars.

Fifty Days To Doom is by E. E. Tubb, a 71 page pulp novella from 1954 that I quite enjoyed.  It marks the third anti-war book in a row that I read in March.  Tubb's novella has a lot in common with Rackham's novel, from 1971.  Both feature a man who is caught up in a senseless war, and wants nothing more than peace.  Again it always amazes me how so much story can be crammed into such a small number of pages.  *** stars.

The Moon Children by Jack Williamson was the first of three jackpot winners for the month, a novel so astoundingly good that I know I will read it again soon.  Unfortunately, my copy is water damaged, so I will have to order a new one.  The 1971-72 tale starts out a bit like Wyndom's Midwich Cuckoos, and also features some John Christopher inspired passages.  But the direction that Williamson takes with this story of three alien children born to human mothers is completely original and totally fascinating, and remains one of the best SF novels I have ever read.  Very highly recommended.  ****+ stars.

I finished up Moorcock's Swords trilogy, the adventures of Corum.  The King Of Swords is an excellent finish to a great series, despite the 2nd book being much less interesting than were books one and three.  Definitely worth checking out.  All three books are quite short.  **** stars.  

 

I finally got to read some of the short stories by J. G. Ballard, a multi-month project that will see me finish reading all of his fiction.  Having heard rave reviews of his short works, especially the early material, I opened the first page of the first story with high expectations.  My expectations were blown clear out of the water.  I had time to read 13 stories, some of them novelettes, all his short writing from 1956 through 1960.  I will merely list the names of the stories that are among the best fiction ever written.  Prima Belladonna; Escapement; The Concentration City; Venus Smiles; The Waiting Grounds; Chronopolis.  Absolutely astounding stuff!!

Barry Malzberg, a favourite author of mine, wrote under more than a dozen names, in all genres of fiction.  Under the name of Howard Lee, he wrote the first of four novels based on episodes of Kung Fu, starring David Carradine.  The first novel is called The Way of the Tiger, The Sign of the Dragon, and brought back a lot of memories.  The flashbacks to the monastery are very well handled, and I would never have suspected that the smooth writing style was a work by Malzberg.  A 2021 reboot of the series is planned, starring a female (of course; who else) Caine.

Lastly came the third incredible discovery of the month (Williamson and Ballard being the other two), The Seedling Stars by James Blish.  Consisting of three novelettes and a short story, we get the complete history of how humans adapted to life on other planets, rather than selecting to colonize only Earth-like planets.  At times I felt that I was reading the very best work of Hal Clement.  Written in the mid-50s for pulp magazines, and then rewritten for paperback publication, this is an incredible series of loosely linked stories that I wish contained many more episodes.  Fabulous reading.  **** stars.

And now a very short film summary from the past week.  Deb's three film festival choices were unrelated, beginning with the 1934 Imitation of Life, a film ahead of its time, but considerably behind by now.  Imagine sitting in a theatre in 1934 and watching a film about a black girl who can pass for white, and rejecting her black mother and her black roots.  Still quite watchable, though some moments are painfully melodramatic.  The ending was changed from the book, which did not impress the author.

Now showing on Criterion.

 

Imitation of Life, 1934.

Walk On The Wild Side is from 1962, starring a very handsome Laurence Harvey, along with Capucine, Jane Fonda, and Barbara Stanwyck.  The New Orleans setting tells the simple story of a Texas man coming in search of a woman with whom he fell in love with three years earlier.  But the woman has changed a lot since their last meeting.  Filmed in beautiful black and white, the film is good, but suffers from I call the cliched Hollywood ending, in this case not the happy one.

 

Now showing on Criterion. 

Lastly came a Preston Sturgess comedy starring a young Henry Fonda and Barbara Stanwyck, along with just about every comic actor in the movie business in 1941.  While the film has a good first half, it falls flat in the second due to overuse of very silly slapstick comedy, which does not suit Fonda at all (nor would it suit anyone else).  There is some really good writing in the first half, but not much in the second.  The story ends up going in circles, too.  The real joy is seeing Stanwyck scintillate in the role of a card sharp, and in watching the many character actors in their small roles.  It gets tiresome watching Fonda play the part of a buffoon, often expressionless.

Half good, half bad.  Now showing on Criterion.  

 

Mapman Mike

December Books Read

 2021 is well underway--the newest wall calendars are in place, and a new crop of Criterion movies are arriving (and leaving).  And Britain is free of Europe, and the US is almost free of Trump.  And we are all still stuck with covid for a long time yet.

In movie news, we watched a fascinating Egyptian film from 1969 called The Night Of Counting Years.  A while back we had watched a short film by the same director, based on an ancient papyrus scroll that was found and translated.  In this full length feature, the director tackles an episode in 1881, where the Cairo authorities are trying to locate the tombs and mummies from the 21st dynasty for preservation and knowledge.  A fierce mountain tribe has located the horde, and has been systematically robbing the tombs and selling pieces on the black market.  The picture is a quiet one, with stunning location photography and settings.  The film has been restored and looks positively breathtaking.  So many great films, and we actually have time for some of them!

                                                            Now showing on Criterion.  

 

Next came The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad, a movie I have likely seen at least 20 times, mostly at the Plaza Theatre in Sudbury, where I would attend a triple feature every Saturday, for 25 cents.  This was Harry Harryhausen's first colour feature, and it's a special effects circus.  There are cyclops, a dragon, a dancing snake woman, a baby two-headed roc, a mama roc, a sword fighting skeleton, a magic lamp with genie, a shrunken princess, and the wonderfully evil magician, Sokura.  There are parts of this film that terrified me as a child, when I would sneak out to the candy counter for a 5 cent treat, taking just long enough to miss the offending scene.  Criterion had a wonderful print of the movie to show us, but it is now left the building.  We waited till the last minute to watch it.

                                    This film showed on Criterion Channel until Dec. 31st/20

 

 Turning now to books read last month, I managed to get through 11 tales related to my Avon/Equinox SF Rediscovery Series project.  In addition, I read two "outside" books, and four more chapters of Beethoven's biography by Jan Swafford.  By reading count was higher this month, as there was virtually no astronomy program due to cloudy nights.

 

I began and ended the month with works by Robert Silverberg.  First came Across A Billion Years, an unusual story of space age archaeology.  A group of scientists are exploring a site of The Old Ones, a mysterious civilization that vanished millions of years ago.  Their artifacts, which remain puzzling and unexplainable, keep turning up of different planets.  A young digger hits the motherlode object, which opens up the field of study like nothing ever before.

 

Silverberg is famous for his books on archaeology, and in fact it was through one of his science books that he first came to my attention as a young reader.  He knows a lot about the subject, and obviously has fun with this well written adventure story.  The ending disappointed me, as it was bound to do when dealing with such a subject, but I really enjoyed the book.  At the end of December I read my 2nd Silverberg story of the month, called Three Survived.  As the author explains in his introduction to my volume, he was asked to write a book for the Pacemaker Series in the late 1960s.  This series of books was aimed at poor readers who wanted access to fun stories.  So Silverberg took a story he'd written many years earlier and reworked it for young but willing readers.  It is actually a novella, and not too bad a one, at that, with several good points to make.  My only complaint, a frequent one with Silverberg and other authors of the time, is that there is not a single female character in the entire story!  Obviously the book was intended for male readers, an opportunity missed yet again to involve females in the genre.  The character Leswick could easily have been switched to female.

 

Next came Blue Adept by Piers Anthony, Book 2 of his Apprentice Adept series.  Anthony tries to build a bridge between SF and Fantasy genres, and while he can be praised for trying something new, the book (and series so far) is more successful as fantasy.  The chapters alternate between two worlds, one where rich people rule a planet decimated by pollution, living under domes and enjoying The Games, and its opposite world, where magic rules and things are still very green.  In my opinion, since discovering his preference for writing fantasy (which at the time was vastly outselling SF), Anthony has been on a downhill treadmill.  One reads him, enjoying certain situations, characters, and settings, but overall it is just a matter of passing time.  I enjoyed the 2nd book more than the first one, but nothing would inspire me to reread either book.

 

Harry Harrison's thrill-a-minute conclusion to his 3-book series To The Stars was up next.  The series (for me) began badly with a frustrating ending to book 1.  However, things improved vastly in the 2nd book, and continued on in like manner till the final page of book 3.   This book deals with the rebellion of the outer planets against Earth, and is a nail-biting story in the best pulp tradition.  There are several highlights, including the author's comparison of how the UK works compared to the USA, and an older, wise black character that owns one of the last great hidden libraries of books, amidst the slums of LA.  A recommended series, after you are finished throwing book one against a wall after reading it.

 

Bulmer's Blazon in a tale of extremely violent and cruel aliens suddenly attacking Earth colonies, and ruthlessly destroying people, animals, crops, etc.  At first Earth is helpless against this unlooked for enemy, and their finest ships go down to defeat in any face to face encounter.  Time for a secret weapon, one that can destroy the aliens and bring peace to the galaxy.   From 1971, the story continues Bulmer's tradition of writing a good tale, and then something beyond.  He always has something interesting to say about humans in his stories, both good and bad.  In this story, the ultimate weapon gets a bit out of control, causing as much of a problem as the alien enemy once did.

 

My readings of E C Tubb have lately centred around books of his that were unpublished in his lifetime, but have finally seen print more recently.  The Freedom Army is from 1953, and is a good old fashioned pulp novel.  Debracey's Drug has caused all humans who take it to lose their emotions and unwilling to tolerate any level of freedom.  The original purpose of the drug was quite different, a story all too familiar today with many fine drugs on the market.  Three freedom loving men are trapped in a bunker, being bombarded to death by the raging mob who hates them.  Luckily (or we wouldn't have had a story at all) one of these men is a brilliant old professor, who is just finishing up his invention, which can lead them all to safety by sending into a different dimension.  Same planet, but different.  Away they go!  To land in the fire from the frying pan they just left behind.  Cruel aliens rule this Earth, and must be defeated and killed.  Again, no females in this story at all.  Sad but true.  A good example of traditional SF pulp, it is one breathless adventurous moment after another.

 

Rogue Star, by Jack Williamson and Fred Pohl, is the concluding novel of their Starchild trilogy.  This volume can be read without any knowledge of the first two books, as it takes place centuries after those stories, in a time when the past events are considered more myth than fact.  In this story, star loves girl, girl hates star, star vows revenge on its elders (other stars).  This is certainly one of the most unique stories I have ever read, and most certainly the strangest love story I have ever come across!  There are some fine moments here, though overall it is a pulp SF novel at heart, with plenty of action, explosions, and heart-thudding adventures.  The hero is quite a comical figure, like something out of an Iain Banks novel.  I had expected the ending to somehow be twisted into a happy one (like so many Star Trek episodes), but I was pleasantly surprised at how original and suitable it really was.  A good read if you want something off the beaten path.

 

The Distant Suns, a novel, and Flux, a 35 page story, were next, authored by Michael Moorcock.  The novel is from 1975, but is a throwback to the pulp era.  Three people leave for Alpha Centauri to find a planet suitable for overcrowded Earth to colonize.  With references to the Morlock and to Neil Armstrong, and a hero named Jerry Cornelius and his wife Catherine, this is a fun read.  There are some inexplicable moments (Asians came to the planet they discover first, many centuries earlier), but overall this is a fun SF novel, filled with strange people and things, and first rate adventure.  Flux is Moorcock's tribute to H. G. Wells' The Time Machine, and in it he reveals the true secret of time travel.  Quite a good story, which covers a lot of ground in very few pages.

 

Next came Miracles of Life, Ballard's autobiography.  At last we get to separate fact from fiction.  Ballard writes as well here as in any of his novels, and his sense of humour keeps things from becoming too serious.  Completed just a year or so before his death, it is essential reading for fans of the author.  His Shanghai experiences during WW II have seeped into every aspect of most of his novels, but he had many other experiences that also deepened his outlook, no the least of which was the death of his young wife.  It is not a book that should be read before his major novels, but it is one I will come back to again.

 

The month's crowning achievement was reading Barry Malzberg's Herovit's World, a novel about a SF pulp writer slowly going crazy.  All of Malzberg's novels feature someone going off the deep end, but this one really takes the cake!  One of his best works, it is dark, very funny, and all too true.  It is a book that should be read by every SF author (it likely has been!) and fan of the genre.  Too incredible, and a must-read!  Book of the month, if not the year!

 

Concluding my cycle of Avon/Equinox books (before starting over with Silverberg--see above) was James Blish's All The Stars A Stage, about a generational life ship heading for the stars with its hopeful human colonists.  The story is slow to begin, but once in space things pick up a lot.  First one planet is visited, but hope is abandoned after several unforeseeable obstacles prevent them from staying.  One of these obstacles concerns insects, and is quite a fascinating take on alien life.  A second planet is reached, again with not much hope of colonizing.  The reasons this time are military, but too late the crew realizes that they could have made this one work.  Will there be a third planet?  By now most of the original crew have passed away, and it is the 2nd generation running things now.  A good, solid SF story, sometimes reminding me of Aniara.

 

I had time for two books off of my 'normal' shelf of books to read.  The first was given to me by Amanda, finally managing to work its way to the top of the pile, after a wait of several years.  The Map and The Territory, a novel by Michel Houellebecq, concerns a successful artist and his sad life.  The character is bland, uninteresting, and unemotional, and halfway through the book I didn't think I would finish it.  He is supposed to be a great author, so I won't judge him by this book.  But it seems to be a stinker.  The book is so unmoving and uninvolving that suddenly, about two thirds of the way through, it becomes a murder mystery.  Even the author must have realized he had dug himself into a nasty hole.  Not recommended.

 

I finished off the month with a wonderful youth novel, Black Jack by Leon Garfield.  This is a first rate adventure novel for young readers (early teens), and I ordered the book a while back after seeing the excellent film based on the book.  Some authors are just so good at writing for young people that it makes me want to give up in despair.  A joy to read!

 

Finally, in art news, I will begin the new year pretty much like the old one ended, with a Utopian painting that allows me some escape from this brown winter, where we are mostly stuck inside the house.  This one involves the sea at sunset, with a ship waiting to take us away from here (though in this case, 'here' doesn't seem too bad).

 

        A Seaport At Sunset, 1643, Claude Gellee, French (1600-1682),  Oil on copper; 16" x 21".  

 

                                                                    Detail of left side.

 

        Detail of right side.  I can see Jan Brueghel and David Teniers enjoying this painting.

 

I have two astronomy articles to write before my next post here, and another challenging vocal task for one of Deb's film series.  After tackling these, I will return with more time filling excitement.  Happy New Year!

 

Mapman Mike 

 

September Books, and A Few Purchases of Note

On December 16th it will be the 250th anniversary of Beethoven's birth.  We had already planned to incorporate many of his works into our nightly listening program next year, and in addition I am embarking on a 1,000 page biography written by Jan Swafford of Beethoven, published in 2017.  A few years ago I read his work on Brahms, and was enthralled for the several months it took me to finish it.  It was like reading a novel, rather than a biography, and I am hoping for much the same with Beethoven.  There are 33 chapters, and I will read one in between every two novels I finish in my Avon/Equinox project.  So far I have read the Introduction, Chapter One (his grandfather, father and mother, and his birth) and the Appendix, which has to do with musical forms used by the composer.

 

Now part of my on-going reading.

I was getting ready to buy the complete works of Bach on CD, something I've wanted to own for some time now.  We have purchased and listened to the complete works of Delius, Britten, and we are just finishing up Brahms.  But at the last minute I put the Bach project on hold, and purchased the Beethoven collection instead.  This makes more sense just now, even though I doubt we will listen to everything (though I am stubborn and persistent).  The collection gets rave reviews, consists of 118 CDs, including multiple recordings of some works, and vintage recordings of many others.  Also, the piano sonatas and string quartets and symphonies are not by all the same people, but a mix of top performers, which I like.  Combined with my own Beethoven collection on vinyl and CD, we are pretty much set for a fun year of Beethoven! 

This set is on the way to our house!

BTHVN 2020 ‐ Beethoven The New Complete Edition (118 CD + 2 DVD +3 Blu-ray Audio) 

 

On to my September reading.  I read ten books related to my Avon/Equinox project, which now stands at 495 books read and reviewed online, and one book unrelated.  I also began the Beethoven biography, a mammoth undertaking.

 

First up was a Piers Anthony novel, as I began yet another one of his series.  Split Infinity is the first of his Apprentice Adept series, which tries to lead his SF fan base into his world of fantasy.  The novel begins as SF, and then changes to fantasy, as we hop back and forth between two worlds, though existing on different planes of the same planet.  An interesting concept, but he doesn't pull it off very well.  I really like Piers Anthony's SF writing, among the best I've ever read.  But after three of his fantasy novels, I am not a fan of his writing in that genre.  I might try one more in this series later, or not.

 

Next came a Harry Harrison non SF novel, called The QE2 Is Missing.  This is a very taut tale about the great ship being hijacked at sea, then found later with all crew and passengers missing.  The novel has a great opening, and a satisfying ending, and in between is some nail biting adventure.  Another winning combination of husband/wife team up (Harrison is great at this) to help catch the baddies.

Next came Bulmer's 1969 Stained-Glass World, a 160 page distopian novel of a drug-filled escapist future, with the world divided between Workers and Uppers.  If the workers don't work, they don't get access to their off duty dream worlds, which is the only reason they work to keep the world running in the first place.  The Uppers have access to better drugs and dreams, and whenever they want.  There are various kinds of security forces, including the toughest of them, the Revenue men.  The streets are mean, and no one ventures out alone.  Very grim, and worth a look.

An early work by E. C. Tubb was next, from 1953, called The Price of Freedom (alias Space Hunger; alias Earth Set Free).  Coincidentally, this story makes an excellent pairing with the Bulmer novel, above.  Tubb gives a very honest and grim look at a truly free society of the future, one that a good deal of Americans are always screaming for.  It is a world filled with private security and bodyguards, assassinations, raids, robberies, and mostly jungle law.  It would no doubt appeal to a certain type of weapons-loving personality, but most people would prefer what we have now, flawed as it is.  A somewhat strange book, though not nearly as strange as the Bulmer one mentioned above.  Fun to read and think about.

 

Next comes Jack Williamson's highly readable adventure story, a retelling of Theseus and the Minotaur, called The Reign of Wizardry.  If, like me, you have always been fascinated by Crete and the Minoans, then this fun novel will be right up your alley.  It gets silly from time to time, and there is one (for me) big disappointment, but all in all this is a good book to seek out in a used book store on a rainy day.

Michael Moorcock's The Quest for Tanelorn concludes his Castle Brass series (3 novels), and Hawkmoon series (4 novels).  It's only 155 pages and easy to read, and in addition to wrapping up the two series mentioned, it also sums up all of his Multiverse writings up to that time (1975).  The three Count Brass books have been added to my all-time list of favourite series, though the four Hawkmoon books, which are good but not great, must be read first.  Highly recommended!

Next came Super-Cannes: A Novel, by J. G. Ballard.  Several of Ballard's books are my favourite books of all time, and this one is right at the top of the list.  Absolutely amazing writing, the book, at 340 or so pages, left me wishing it had never ended.  He hits so many things right on the head in this book that it could provide me with an infinite number of quotes, enough for several years of those little daily tear-away calendars.  One of the best modern novels, without question.  Not SF, but worth it for SF fans anyway.

Cinema by Barry Malzberg is another novel he wrote in the early 70s for a publishing house trying to upgrade itself from publishing standard porn novels.  They got way more than they bargained for with Malzberg.  Despite the sex, which is not pornographic at all, this is great literature, and reminds me of the joke of why blokes used to buy Playboy magazine back in the day ("for the articles, man").  A young woman, a recent college grad, wants to become an actress, and instead gets herself involved in the porn film industry.  Like his previous book for the same publisher, called Screen, this one is tragically hilarious, as we watch the poor heroine get ground down until she has a breakdown.  Doesn't sound very funny, but black humour is hard to explain.  This stuff is jet black.

Last in the cycle comes James Blish, who co-wrote A Torrent Of Faces with Norman L. Knight.  Published in Galaxy Magazine as three novelettes, and expanded and published here as a linked novel, we are taken to a future where Earth is home to 1 trillion people!  Now that's what I call trying to tackle a true population nightmare!  This is a nearly perfect story, so well done and so highly readable, from 1967.  One of the great SF novels, to be sure!

Before resuming my next iteration of the Avon/Equinox authors' books remaining, I now always take a break and read something different.  I returned to my childhood again, reading The Time Machine by H. G. Wells. It is a very well crafted novella, and my only regret is that the author never returned to the theme.  How I wish he had written a sequel!  One of the greatest stories every written, and I was suprised by how well the 1960s feature film followed the author's writing.  The movie did add more things, and left out the far future segment, but overall did a great job of bringing the story to the big screen.

Lastly for September came a novel by Robert Silverberg, as I start over in my reading cycle.  To Open The Sky, like the Blish book discussed above, also consolidated some works previously published in SF magazines in the mid-60s.  Five novelettes tell the story of how interstellar travel was achieved, over a period of some 90+ years.  Many of the same characters return in each story.  It is a very imaginative and unique look at how the speed of light might someday be breached.  Sometimes the writing is a bit too straight forward and not that engaging, but overall this is a well done project.  I wish there had been one more story at the end.

 

I am currently reading a 532 page SF novel by Piers Anthony called Mute (for mutation).  Next month I'll talk about it a bit.  If this or any of the novels mentioned above are of interest, refer to my Avon/Equinox blog.  There should be a link at the top of this page, in the left margin.

Too tired right now to include art from the DIA.  Hopefully next time.  Happy October, and Happy Full Moon!

Mapman Mike

August Reading, and Two Movies

I took 3 days off practicing piano and memorizing pieces for our trip to Cincinnati last week.  I lost ground, but not too much.  The Brahms Waltz is proving difficult for me to memorize, but the Haydn is coming along nicely.  I hope to begin the 3rd and final movement of that Sonata, memorizing it.  It shouldn't take too long to jam it inside of my head.

In August I managed to complete 7 books related to my vast and virtually unending Avon/Equinox Rediscovery Project.  I also read two outside books.  While the number of books may be lower than my average, the page count remains the same.  Several of the books I read last month were quite long, with very small print.

The first three books were by Ballard, Malzberg, and Blish, the final three authors of a reading segment.  Each time I conclude a full segment of the remaining Avon/Equinox authors, I read a book unrelated to that series.  Thus after every volume by Blish comes something completely different.  The Ballard book was Concrete Island, another nightmare scenario where the protagonist is trapped.  I found this book to have made its point, and it did have a message, but that it was too contrived for my taste.  Even so, many parts of the book stay with you, and likely always will.  Ballard has a sense of what being isolated is really like.

With every book by Malzberg that I read, I like him more and more.  Confessions of Westchester County is a solid 4-star Looney Tunes cartoon, and I loved every minute of this fascinating story, and the sick-minded characters that inhabit it.  Different from anything else I have ever read.

The Blish tale was another total masterpiece.  Called Doctor Mirabilis, it is Blish's historical fiction based on the life of Roger Bacon, a 13th Century scientist trying to reconcile his religious faith with what he was learning about nature.  The novel loosely fits in to a very loose series by Blish called "After Such Knowledge."  I have now completed my rereading of this (loose) series.

With another cycle of Avon/Equinox authors complete, I picked up E. R. Eddison's Viking epic off my shelf, called Styrbiorn the Strong.  When Tolkien and C. S. Lewis revere a writer (their quotes are on the book), one should pay close attention.  I had only read his Zimiamvian cycle.  This was his first work outside of this fantasy world that I have read, and I loved every minute of it.  It also helps to see where his ideas for The Worm Ouroboros might have come from.

I also finished up a hardcover art book I had been reading for some time, called Italian Baroque Paintings.  That title covers a lot of territory, and it was a fascinating read.  It took me ages to complete, but I did finally finish it.  I began reading it after I had completed the two Bruegel catalogues from Vienna.  I love paintings, and I love reading about paintings.  I even love writing about paintings.  But I cannot paint.  I can draw a teeny bit with pencil.  If reading art books and viewing art could make one into an artist, I'd be pretty awesome by now.

It was time to begin a new cycle of Avon/Equinox authors.  I read a 400-page volume of short stories by Silverberg, covering the years 1962-69.  Too many great stories to mention here (see my Silverberg page for short reviews of each story), but I might just mention "To The Dark Star," and "Hawksbill Station."  Great stuff!

Next came Spinrad's magnificent epic novel Greenhouse Summer, his take on global warming and how the world might look once things really begin to get seriously warm.  Hint:  corporations will be in full control.  While a bit on the theatrical side, this is a truly great novel, filled with fun (but theatrical) characters.  Like most of Spinrad's tales, there is a lot of sex, but usually sex with a purpose (not procreation, either).  From 1999, it remains completely timely today. 

I also finished Piers Anthony's 2nd Cluster novel (there are five).  Anthony is a genius, and on the same level as Frank Herbert.  He is not a polished writer, however.  Too many fantastic ideas and details come pouring out of his head, and he can become overwhelming at times.  But truly great, if the reader can keep up with him.

I finished up the month (reading it in Cincinnati) with the third book of John Christopher's Fireball Trilogy, called Dragon Dance.  Not a great book by any means.  The first one in the series is the best, followed by the 2nd.  This one seems a pale shadow of the first two.  However, by a very strange coincidence, Roger Bacon makes an appearance in a book I read within the same month! 

To see the covers of these books, and read the full reviews, refer to my Avon/Equinox website.  It should be found in the left margin.

Nicolas Roeg's SF classic, The Man Who Fell To Earth, had never been seen by us in its longer version.  We saw one many years ago that ran 117 minutes, and it was a very bad print, fitted for TV.  This was a restored wide screen version, with over 20 minutes of extra footage.  David Bowie is nearly perfect as the alien who to Earth seeking help for his family.  They are dying back on his home planet.  He becomes the richest man in the world, seeking to build a rocket ship.  His plan is undone from many directions, not the least of which is his own weakness of character.  This is mostly a thoughtful and engaging film, but there are many moments where rolling ones eyes might be the best way to pass the time.  A ton of extras came with it on Criterion, but the film ended its run there at midnight last night.  It's a flawed film, but worth seeing more than once.

 Last night we watched a rather brilliant film from 2003, called I Capture The Castle.  Based on a novel written during WW 2, it describes a family living in a ruined castle in England in the mid 1930s.  Two teenage girls try to grow up and prosper amid the ruins of the castle and their family.  The acting is first rate, with a special nod to Romola Garai, who plays Cassandra, the sensitive and intelligent young woman searching for love, but finding only pain.

Mapman Mike