October Reading Summary

 Bulmer continues to rely on witches and their curses to move the action forward in Witches of Kregen, the 34th book in the Dray Prescott fantasy series (1985), though there is a grand traditional battle as well.  The opening chapter's rain of frogs is unique in fantasy literature, as I'm sure is the attack of stinging wasps.  Other plagues are thrown at Dray until he finally agrees to meet the female witch face to face.  It appears she has a crush on him, so we'll have to see how that turns out.  All of Dray's main warrior buddies are collected in this story for the first time, so I assume that nothing mortal could stand up to them when fighting together.  Thus the need for witches and their abominable black curses.  Fair enough, I suppose.  The Star Lords summon Dray yet again, unexpectedly as usual, but there is a neat twist this time around once he has completed his task.  This event sweetens the story somewhat, distasteful as the witchcraft is becoming.  Better than the previous book by far, but still a bit sub par for the series.

Cover by James Gurney. 

 

 #15 in the Dumarest series (The Spectrum of a Forgotten Sun) sees Earl besotted by a beautiful woman.  Does she really love him, or is she working for the evil Cyclan?  We visit several new planets (this series never seems to return to previous worlds) and Earl makes more tiny bits of progress in his search for Earth and the Sun.  Tubb must have sensed his fans' frustration with the series, but he never allowed Dumarest to reach Earth.  In this reviewer's opinion this was a tragic mistake.  Finally reaching Earth did not have to be the end; a good writer could have made it into an entirely new adventure series.  But Tubb seemed blind to the possibilities as he kept cashing his paycheck for writing these books with no end.  Once again Earl has to fight in a death match while a bloodthirsty crowd watches.  This has become a cliche of the series so far, happening far too often.  While the books are still fun to read, and I am continually amazed at Tubb's ability to write good stuff, I weary of much of it.  Whereas Bulmer manages to keep my interest fairly high in his nearly endless Dray Prescott series (more fantasy than SF), Tubb can't seem to get past a certain wall, making his readers suffer.  A good entry in the series, but not the best.

 

Moving now to the Delphi Classics Series, I began the month with a short play by Samuel T. Coleridge called The Fall of Robespierre, written in 1794.  Co-written with Robert Southey, it was meant more for recitation than stage performance.  There seems to be little sympathy for the man who began the purge of traitors to France and ended up accusing nearly everyone of that crime.  eventually fate caught up to him, though not soon enough for many victims.  French history is filled with rogues like this who thought they were saints.  Easily read at one sitting.

 

Wilkie Collins is a favourite writer of this reader, and his 1857 epic novel The Dead Secret is a somewhat readable story with Gothic overtones.  The big secret can be guessed by most modern readers very early on.  Since the story was written as a magazine serial, it tends to go on and on.  This would fit the category of women's fiction in its day.  I was hoping for a more supernatural spin to the story, but it never came.  The ending (it is in six "books") is very drawn out and very long.  Cut by about a third this could have been a much more effective book.  Not a favourite novel of mine by this author.

 

Two illustrations from the edition that I read. 

 

Next came Typhoon, a novella by Joseph Conrad from  1902.  Like the Collins story, it was first serialized in a magazine.  Unlike the Collins tale this one is to the point, with no extra words, sentences, or chapters present. The adventure novella takes place on board a British built steamer plying the China Sea.  Good descriptions of the captain, the ship and some of her crew preface the stormy weather, and preparing us for what is to come.  On board the ship are 200 Chinese workers returning home after a 7 year stint abroad.  They are all returning with money earned and saved.  In an introduction by the author, her stresses that it wasn't the storm or the captain that he wanted to highlight, but what went on below deck during the storm involving the 200 Chinese men.  Conrad says very little about them in the story, leaving a lot to the imagination (even it was something so terrible that I would rather not imagine it).  The storm is a major one, and as usual Conrad gives vivid pictures of what the ship and crew (and passengers) are up against.  The storm is so bad that it is difficult to imagine what it would be like, but we are given a rather good idea.  Parts of the storm are so bad that it seems almost comical, or so beyond normal comprehension that one can only laugh or cry.  If there is a lesson to be learned here, it is to trust the barometer.  This captain, greatly changed by his experience, could have taken measures to avoid the storm.  However, his reasons for not dodging it are given in his own words, and, being the captain, his word is law on board the ship.  Highly recommended, especially if you have ever been in a bad storm.

 

F. Marion Crawford's novel A Roman Singer from 1884 takes readers to sunny Rome.  The story is told by Cornelio Grande, step father to young Nino Cardegna.  As a child Nino loved to sing, eventually studying with a good teacher and becoming something of a sensation as a tenor on the opera stage.  He falls in love with a German girl and courts her.  Her Prussian ex-soldier of a father totally disapproves and removes her to a secluded location far from Rome.  It's up to Cornelio to track down her whereabouts while Nino is singing in Paris and London.  The novel reads much like a Gothic opera plot, complete with dark castle in the hostile mountains of northern Italy.  While not a great novel, it certainly isn't a bad one.  There is much humour in the telling, as Cornelio is against Nino's singing as well as his courting.  A older wandering violin virtuoso, who is also a rich Russian banker, also has hopes of landing the daughter for himself, after falsely pledging to help Nino win her.  It was a fun book to read, though hardly one that I would casually recommend.  There are better ones by the author.

 

     

Lastly this month comes Lord Dunsany's 1935 novel Up In The Hills.  The entire novel is told tongue in cheek by the narrator, but is true to its source.  The novel has a totally bizarre opening, with several archaeologists from Liberia descending upon a lonely bog outside a tiny village in Ireland.  The events take place in 1922, just after the country has won its independence from England.  The Black explorers end up digging up human bones along with the pottery and spear tips that they find.  This brings out the local wise women, who put daily curses on the diggers.  This makes everyone in the village terribly afraid of the near future.  The young local lads (around 20 years of age) decided to take to the hills for a spell until the dig has ended or the curses have come true.  It doesn't take them long to become in a "war" with a neighbouring army.  Micky, the young leader of his army of 9 souls, is up against a true fighter who was renowned for fighting the British and his 100 or so lads.  But both armies are interrupted by the arrival of the more official Irish army, after reports of shots fired in the hills have come down to them.

Dunsany has an ear for how the Irish would talk, and it is both humourous and musical to read parts out loud to oneself.  Conversations, even serious ones, tend to be pretty funny in this story, especially the ones young Mickey has with his grandfather, a wise old one who advises Mickey throughout the story.  Highly readable, chalk this one up as just another truly odd story I have come across and dutifully reported to you, my readers.  Recommended, though even Dunsany fans may be surprised by this one.  Pleasantly surprised, I would hope.  I will also add that this is probably one of the most off-beat novels I have ever read.

 

Mapman Mike 

July Books Read

Another indoor month, due to heat and humidity here this time of year, means lots of time for reading.  Having run out of Silverberg SF books, I am now reading his trashy pulp novels, which actually are pretty gritty and not half bad.  I am giving Michael Moorcock a rest for a few months, and returning to James Blish.  Blish wrote several dozen critical essays about the stories in SF pulp magazines in the 50s and early 60s, under a fake name.  I have a few of those books in hand.  There were among the rarest of books by Blish, and unavailable for decades.  However, thanks once again to the magic of Kindle publishing, I now have books I had given up hope of ever finding in stores.

 

Besides my five Avon/Equinox books, I plunged ahead with Delphi classics, beginning with stories by Wilkie Collins and Joseph Conrad, and also read some from beyond that incomparable series.

 

Gang Girl is from 1959 and is penned under the name Don Elliot (Silverberg). She's seventeen and has a body that can turn young males into her own personal playthings.  They will even kill for her.  Lora Menotti is one bad girl, striving to get to the top of the gang when her family moves into new digs in a different part of New York.  Silverberg manages to get inside this kinky girl's head, and we see what makes Lora tick.  Mostly it's sex, violence, drugs, and booze.  The book has a lot of each of those things.  Like most bad people in 1959 movies and books, she does get her comeuppance in the final chapter--she has made too many enemies not to escape gang justice.  The story is gritty and probably not too far fetched for its time.  I would not even wish to contemplate what contemporary gang life is like. 

 

The first half of A Sword For Kregen, the 1979 novel by Kenneth Bulmer that continues the adventures of Dray Prescott, is standard fare for the series, meaning that it is fun to read and advances the overarching plot.  Dray has been given a warning by the gods that his services as a warrior will soon be needed again.  He manages to tie up business at home before he is yanked away again to a distant corner of Kregen.  The second half of the book is Bulmer's homage to Edgar Rice Burroughs' novel The Chessmen of Mars.  Burroughs' Martians love to play chess, and that book in the author's Martian series features a game of human chess where the pieces must fight to the death when moved to an occupied square.  On Kregen the board game of war is called Jikaida, and is played everywhere, including at the beginning of this novel, as a  game is taking place between Dray and his wife (she wins, with a ruthless strategy).  And so Dray later becomes a piece in the game, and must fight. Besides redoing Burroughs (Bulmer also gives instructions on how to play his game at the end of the novel, as did Burroughs), a few tropes pop up in this story.  For one, the climax is yet again two males having a swordfight to the death.  How original.  For another, Dray is the underdog against a much superior swordsman.  So of course Dray loses until the very few final seconds on the match, when his opponent finally makes a mistake.  Dray, with his very last strength, just somehow manages to kill him.  Yawn.  Despite this, the book is again very well thought out and executed.  The series continues, with 15 more novels in store.  So far, so good.  I can't believe I have last through 20 books.

 

From 1956 comes The Curse of Quantrill, a Civil War era historical western, starring that scourge of the North William Quantrill.  Quantrill was a Southern Captain in the Rebel army.  This story takes place near the end of the Civil War, and near the end of Quantrill's short life.  It is a completely fictional account of the later years, with no mention of the James brothers being part of Quantrill's Raiders.  There are many nearly forgotten stories of the Civil War.  The criminal and violent things that Quantrill and his men did, and those of the rival Jayhawkers, are quite unspeakable, yet they are a part of almost any war.  The same with a victorious Union army as they marched through the South, burning, robbing, raping, and causing economic disaster for the losing side.  Even after the war a lot of very nasty things went on that are best never forgotten, but always are.  Tubb gives a creditable account of life near the end of the Civil War, and pulls no punches.  A good read, and it made me research the facts about Quantrill. 

 

The Bend At The End of the Road is another good collection of short essays by Malzberg concerning SF writing in the 50s.  Lamenting the demise of SF and trying to reason why might drive a person crazy.  Tolkien, Star Wars, and Star Trek seem to be the main cause, as well as editors who only accepted certain types of SF for publication.  The great comeback in the 60s was due to the British, mostly Moorcock's New Worlds publications, and within that, thanks mostly to Ballard.  This essay collection, published in 2018, contains essays written between 2007-17.  It apparently did not help that more than one Hugo was given out to works that were not SF at all.  

Malzberg is one of the most creative and funniest writers of SF I have come across in the Avon Rediscovery Series.  After reading even a few of his works, it can be seen why he did not become more famous as a writer--his stuff does not fit the category of SF that editors had been hammering into young minds since day one.  However, it is a shame that he did not even attempt to talk about some modern SF writers.  Given the dates of the essays, he does not discuss a single contemporary writer.  Not good, Mr. Malzberg.

Still, these essays are essential reading for people interested in 50s SF, and in discovering why SF writing disappeared (think dragons and elves).  You'll laugh, you'll cry, but you will continue to read the next essay, until there are no more.  Highly recommended for readers of this blog.

 

James Blish wrote critical essays about SF in the 1950s and 1960s, ostensibly to help budding writings in the genre.  He wrote under the name of Atheling, and his cover was not guessed for many years, when he finally came out.  He wrote about the magazine stories from the time, which was virtually the only place to publish SF stories.  The essays contained in The Issue At Hand are full of insight, and make a very good handbook for young writers and older editors.  Having recently read many essays by Barry Malzberg on the subject, Blish excels at getting to his point and proving it, something that Malzberg's essays often lack.  He was a very erudite writer, and not above criticizing his own works in his essays.  His emphasis on stories of humanity often fell on deaf ears for those writers engaged in space opera, but the essays invariably helped many writers, even the pros.  An invaluable gem of a book, unavailable for many years until it appeared on Kindle.  Praise Kindle!

On to the Delphi Classics!  Wilkie Collins wrote a short novel in 1856 called A Rogue's Life.  He made some revisions in 1879 for its first book publication (it had been serialized in a magazine).  He wanted to expand it, but didn't have the time.  A good thing, as it's perfect as it stands.  The son of Dr. Francis Softly tries hard to make a go of things, to uphold his family's high position (through his mother).  He tries learning medicine, but finds it not to his taste.  Next come several very funny episodes where he tries caricature, goes bankrupt and is sent to jail; next comes portrait painting, also a complete flop.  A friend gets him into painting old masters to sell as original works.  A few times he runs into a beautiful young woman who makes his heart flutter.  When the old masters racket is exposed, he flounders for a time.  The young Softly is a terrific character for a novel, and I was very surprised to see that nothing has been done for TV or film with this work.  It is a fun read, just long enough, with one of the most original endings I have ever come across.  A rogue indeed!  If you are a reader who has been put off by Collins' very (very) long novels, this would be a great place to dip into his writing.  Highly recommended!

Next came a strange tale by Joseph Conrad, co-written with Ford Maddox Ford.  The Inheritors is from 1901.  Ford was a neighbour at the time, helping Conrad write in English.  I didn't care much for the novel.  Without the sea it doesn't seem like Conrad, yet.  The book is well written, yet lacks action and emotion.  It is a political thriller that takes place in London, the countryside, and Paris.  The downfall of the old regime is in the hands of a heartless woman, who claims to be from the 4th dimension.  Forgetting that, it is interesting to speculate on how many humans there are that we might know who don't seem quite human.  Conrad digs up a few here, and shines a light upon them.  The main protagonist, a journalist, is used by the lady to help achieve her ends.  He is a pawn on her chessboard, who thinks that he has free will.  He falls in love with her, and needless to say it is unrequited.  At the very end, however, when the cataclysm has stopped its rumbling, she does confess a small bit of feeling for him.  The book ends with the man a lost soul, with nothing to do and nowhere to go.  The novel makes for an interesting read, but certainly not an engaging one.  For Conrad completists, and those trying to assess the influence Ford had on the story.

I read the Delphi Kindle edition.

 Anne Hillerman's latest mystery novel is called Lost Birds, published in 2024.  Continuing to write in her father's footsteps, retired Navajo cop Joe Leaphorn returns to centre stage for this story, mostly set in New Mexico's northwest badlands.  Ms. Hillerman's job is not an easy one.  First, she must use the characters introduced and developed by her father, putting her own spin on things while remaining true to Tony Hillerman's vision.  Second, she must reflect the current Navajo scene without offending anyone, using Native advisors as well as historical truths as a base.  Trying to deal with real problems facing the Navajo Nation is a pretty tough task for a white person to undertake these days.  She must also be very familiar with not only how the Navajo police do their job (and what their job actually is), but also with the NM State Police and the FBI.  Crime scene work today is much different than when Tony Hillerman wrote The Blessing Way, his first novel, back in 1970 (highly recommended reading).

Sometimes those tasks are so daunting that creating a workable plot with new characters can be overwhelming.  Ms. Hillerman has three main characters to deal with in her novels.  They are retired Lieutenant Leaphorn, police lieutenant Jim Chee, and his wife, officer Bernadette (Bernie) Manuelito.  The author jumps back and forth between these three characters throughout most of her 8 or 9 novels.  She not only deals with their police work (the retired Leaphorn is now a private investigator), but also their private lives.  Both sides of the characters are usually dealt with really well.

In the current novel, "lost birds" is an actual moniker for Navajo babies who were adopted into white families to help them escape their origins, and assimilate them into white culture.  This went on, protested by natives, until 1978.  This novel deals with a 50 year old woman trying to find out who her birth mother was.  There is also a murder, and explosion, and packs of wild dogs causing havoc (a real problem on the vast reservation).  The several plots winding through the novel have some holes, but overall it is a good read.  There is a vast area of NM we have yet to visit (next year, fall 2025?), as well as Monument Valley in Arizona, and some essential sites in Utah.  Reading any Hillerman story, by Tony or Anne, puts me in places I would rather be.  Though I can highly recommend most of the books by Tony, Anne does not always measure up to dad's level.  She does come pretty close this time, though.

 

I read the Kindle edition. 

 

F. Marion Crawford's To Leeward was published in 1883.  It is a mostly depressing novel that takes place during a hot summer in Italy.  It begins optimistically enough, with a young and intelligent Leonora marrying Marcantonnio, a well off man from a noble and old Italian family.  He loves her deeply, but it takes her a few months to realize she does not love him.  She is a romantic young thing, and longs for a sweeping heroic manly man to come along and sweep her off her feet.  Along comes Julius Bastiscombe, friend to Marcantonnio's sister.  He sees the lovely Leonora and decides that he must possess her.  Things escalate until the inevitable happens, and she elopes with the rogue.  Marcantonnio goes mad and sets out to kill them both.  So yes, a depressing story.  It is well written, and the characters (there are four main ones, including the sister) are well drawn and quite believable.  To me this would make a decent Merchant/Ivory type of film.  If you like your love stories tragic and very warm, you might like this novel.  However, the sudden and very brief ending to the story was disappointing.  I prefer my endings to epic stories to be somewhat more spacious.

Griffin and Sabine by Nick Bantok was published as three small, very artistic books beginning in 1990.  The second book is called Sabine's Notebook, and the third being The Golden Mean.  These works were first brought to my attention by a friend when they were published in the form of a sort of game for PC.  We bought the books afterwards, and gave them to my father.  When he passed away earlier this year I got the books back, and read them.  The story is told through letters and postcards only.  The first book is the best of the series.  Griffin is a designer of postcards, while Sabine is a stamp designer for a fictitious South Seas Islands country.  He lives in London, and they began to communicate.  A mystery lies at the heart of their relationship, and it is a great pleasure to gradually discover the mystery and its development.  The second book seems to me too much of a frustration, as they each travel across the world to meet, but never do.  Do they ever get to meet?  Read the third book to find out.  Besides the writing, the art is eccentric and quite fabulous, from the postcard designs and including the stamps.  A fun idea well executed, and worth discovering for lovers of things odd and unusual.

Book One of the series of three. 

 

Lastly comes one of the great adventure books of all time, The Lost World by Arthur Conan Doyle.  Published in 1912, this influential SF novel still makes for fun reading.  Somehow I had never read it before now, despite reading dozens of its imitators.  Of course it was heavily influenced by Jules Verne, but so what.  My Delphi Kindle edition included the original pencil illustrations.  Readers can immediately tell that this is the way adventure books were written back in the good old days, since it takes six or seven chapters to really get going.  But the entire exposition is priceless reading, especially where it concerns Professor Challenger, the man who claimed to have visited a site up the Amazon where prehistoric beasts still roam.  He is certainly one of the more colourful characters from early adventure fiction.  I found this to be a very fun read, despite the lack of female characters (though the lone female character does provide a chuckle or two at the end).  Of course a Mary Kingsley type of character could have easily been introduced as one of the party, but that probably would have stretched readers credulity at the time more than the dinosaurs.

 

Original cover of the first edition.

 

One of several original sketches included in the Kindle edition, done on site by Malone, the reporter who went on the  journey with three others. 

 

That's all the reading news for this month.  See you in August. 

Mapman Mike

 

 

 
 

 

May Reading Summary

I easily made it through my usual 8 books by remaining authors in the Avon/Equinox project.  The only author I am really tired of is Piers Anthony.  I am going to finish reading the actual books of his I have in my possession, and not purchase any ones I don't have.  I hit some amazing stories this time around by the other writers, so here we go.

First came the next volume of the collected stories of Robert Silverberg, called The Palace At Midnight 1980-82.  Volume 5 of the collected stories contains 23 stories and an intro by the author.  Each individual story also has a short intro by the author.  Seven of the stories turned into top notch ones, with several others being excellent as well.  The best of the them was Homefaring, a novella; The Changeling, Jennifer's Lover, Thesme and Gayhrog (from a short story collection tied to the Majipoor series), The Pope of the Chimps, Gianni, and The Man Who Floated in Time.  Details of these and other stories and books mentioned here can be found at my Avon Equinox blog site.

So things got off to a roaring start.  Then came a novel by Piers Anthony.  The book likely sold well, due to a brilliant cover (which wins this month's Cover of the Month), and the name attached to the story.  It was called Mercycle, and must be avoided by readers at all cost.  If you want proof that just about anything will be published once an author's name is out there, look no further.  First written in 1971, the book was rejected by numerous publishers.  For once, Anthony agreed with them; it was his worst novel.  So he dusted it off, rewrote it, added 25,000 more words, and ended up with--a total mess that should not have been published.  Published in 1991, it is a crime against science fiction and fantasy.

Cover of the Month, by Barclay Shaw.  This colourful and intriguing cover hides a very bad novel. 

Mercifully, along cames Harry Harrison to the rescue.  King and Champion, from 1996, is the third and final book of the author's totally brilliant historical fantasy trilogy, The Hammer and the Cross.  By now it has gone beyond being a totally fantastic series of Vikings versus the English.  The action shifts to the Mediterranean Sea, and the action is almost nonstop.  We learn the real truths behind not only the Grail (which is not a cauldron after all), but what happened to Jesus once he was taken down from the cross (hint: he did not resurrect, because he never died).  This book is the best of the three, and the other two were fantastic to read!  Each book is very long, exceeding 500 pages, but they literally fly past.  Great story!!

Kenneth Bulmer's continuing seafaring adventure series was next.  While very short, these novels are great examples of the best king of pulp style writing.  Fox 3: Prize Money is among the best of Bulmer's writing.  He is not shy to show his great sense of humour, and the way Mr. Fox ends up at the end of the story is quite hilarious.  His prize money (loot from captured galleons) isn't quite what he expected.  He also manages to mostly save the British navy in each book, and not get any credit for it (he is not high born).  A fun series, but devastating at the same time.

Next came Iron Head, a collection of five stories by E C Tubb, another great writer of pulp SF.  The title story is the best of the bunch, detailing what it might be like to be the only non-telepath in a society of telepaths.  Would there be advantages to such a situation, or only condemnation and third class citizenship?  Mr. Tubb will be pleased to tell you all about it.

Jack Williamson was 91 when The Silicon Dagger was published. From 1999 comes this 334 page misnamed adventure thriller.  Any SF element does not become apparent until almost page 190.  Up till then it is a political thriller, with rednecks from Kentucky trying to take over the USA.  A better title would have been The Silicon Shell (as in domed city). The author has a lot to say about the information age and internet (which he calls infonet in the story), as well as freedom, overreach of government, racism, armed militias, and lots of other things that seem to be more current each and every day.  I liked the book up until the SF element makes a rude entrance.  Williamson was not around to see the thing on live TV as we did, when Trump and his supporters tried to take over the White House, claiming that they had not lost the election.  As ugly as that scene was, Williamson's is much uglier when one digs underneath just a little bit.  Try to imagine nearly every county in the US (thousands of them) suddenly deciding they wanted "freedom."  To call this book politically incorrect doesn't  go far enough; it is dangerously politically naive, despite several good points the book brings out.  Read it for yourself and decide.

Next to Harrison's volume, the best book of the month (and best book of many months) was Michael Moorcock's highly imaginative and very effective look at moments in history, called Breakfast In The Ruins, from 1971.  Forget the interludes between two gay men.  Forget the ridiculous "What Would You Do?" segments after each chapter.  Just read the main text, a group of very loosely related historical tales featuring the same character in each story, at a different age.  This is high octane writing at its finest, and the segments would make such a great series of short films.  My favourite one is longer than most of them, and involves Karl as a child getting unwittingly involved with Russians escaping the secret police in Russia, coming to 1905 London to start new lives, and still having to deal with them.  The story is devastating not just for what happens, but for the setting itself, and the people who are trapped by their poor paying jobs, working all hours of the day and into the night.  Each of the tales is a window into worlds that people don't often shine lights into.  They are parts of true history best forgotten, according to many.  But Moorcock gives us scenes of horror from many different countries and times, each one sacrificing a different version of Karl.  The stories don't really even have to be read in any particular order, if the linking story is ignored.  This book must be read.

Lastly came a novel by Malzberg, who hits the 3rd home run of the month (after Harrison and Moorcock), with his unforgettable Lady of a Thousand Sorrows, from 1977.  It is a fictional account of the inner life of Jackie Kennedy-Onassis, and is so brilliant and devastating that Istill can't believe that someone wrote this, and that I stumbled across it.  To a certain generation, the Kennedy assassination was the most traumatic event of our childhood, showing us for the first time that the world could change overnight, and not for the better.  Malzberg gets into  the head of a very private person.  She either would have died laughing if Jackie had read this story, or tried everything in her power to sue for damages.  This a story of stories, told by a master of being able to get inside the minds of warped people.

I began my project of reading the Avon/Equinox SF Rediscovery Series, and then expanded to reading the complete works of those 24 authors represented in the series, six years ago June 1st.  Since then I have read 684 books by those authors (all male, unfortunately).  In this year (#6), I read 102 books, mostly by the remaining 8 authors.  However, in addition I also read 46 books unrelated to my main reading project since last June.  These I call my off the shelf reads, as I try to clear a backlog of novels and non-fiction that have been accumulating on my shelves, awaiting their turn.  This month I managed to read 6 of those, though only one was truly off the shelf.

That one was called A Book of Five Rings, a translation of the famous strategy guide by Musashi.  He had a unique way of killing opponents that seems to have worked well for him, but his ability to communicate his methods to readers is woefully inadequate.  His aversion to schools of martial arts means that we can only try to guess at what he says most of the time.  Still, a lot of his words have been incorporated into these arts for a very long time, likely because they are common knowledge and logical in the first place.  As a person who has studied judo, karate, and iado, I can vouch for the benefit of schools and teachers.  Trying to learn these things from a book just doesn't work very well.  However, a person must also carve out some individuality within these teachings, as must a good piano student from their teacher.  Not a very helpful book, though it does contain several nuggets worth considering.

Next, I greedily read five books from different authors in my Kindle editions of Delphi Classics.  First came Basil, by Wilkie Collins, his first non-historical novel, published in 1852, with some corrections and a new introduction from 1862.  Ah, there is nothing quite like the fever pitch that can be reached in a true Victorian novel, and Basil does the job magnificently.  Consider poor Basil.  Younger son in an old and well established English family, he falls hopelessly in love at first sight with a beautiful young woman (a girl, actually) on an omnibus, a draper's daughter.  He marries her, but promises her father that the marriage will not be physically fulfilled for one year, when the girl will turn 18.  Everything must be kept top secret from his family, of course, as papa is completely intolerant of having anything to do with mere trades people.  The plot thickens as the emotionless, mysterious draper's business aid is seen to have almost total control over the young woman (Margaret).  The story becomes thick and involved, and of course the dreaded "brain fever" strikes our poor hero when he realizes he has been betrayed.  This being only Collins' second novel, by mid-19th C standards it's a pretty good story.  But the hero, Basil, is such a milquetoast that this reader wants to grab and shake him violently at several key moments in the plot, shouting "Do something, you incompetent fool!"

Next came the best book about late 19th C sea travel ever written, saddled with the most unfortunate title of Nigger of the Narcissus.  Joseph Conrad's 1898 novel also uses the "n...." word copiously in the story, thus dooming it from school reading lists, and probably many libraries, today.  While the story centres around Jimmy, a black East Indian sailor, it is mostly about shipboard life on a sea journey from Bombay to London.  Hell, thy name is shipboard life in 1898.  Things don't go too badly until the feared passing of the Cape of Good Hope, the southern tip of Africa.  This is still a very bad area in which to sail a ship.  The good ship Narcissus encounters a storm of storms, and its fate is narrated with such vivid and detailed descriptions that it will seem as if you, the reader, are on board the boat.  I have never read this Conrad novel before, no doubt put off by the title (which was changed for American publication at the time).  It turned into one of the best novels I have ever read, with drama, humour, insight, a fight against Nature to the death, and more demonstration of sea and ship knowledge than I have ever encountered.  Very highly recommended.  Readers will never think of the ocean in quite the same way after this book.

 After that came another tremendous highlight of my reading career, F Marion Crawford's first novel, Mr. Isasacs, from 1882.  Paul Griggs, an American, is in northern India, working for a newspaper (The Howler!).  He meets the most extraordinary man he has ever met, a Mr. Isaacs, who turns out to be Persian (Iranian), and a learned and very charismatic man.  They become fast friends, and when Mr. Isaac falls madly in love with an English girl, Griggs is there to help him out.  The story takes place after a disastrous encounter in Afghanistan with the British army, and the plot involves rescuing the Emir of Afghanistan from British custody.  However, the plot aside, what make this book so wonderful are the lengthy and varied philosophical discussions the two main characters have, at all hours of the day and night.  It is like an Indian version of My Dinner With Andre, only the discussions here are much more interesting, stretching from females, men, humanity, mysticism, through to the soul.  I found the book fascinating, despite the tiger hunt.

Next was Edgar Wallace's first great mystery novel, the one that nearly bankrupted him when he turned it into a contest to see if anyone could guess the solution to the word puzzle.  A Case For Angel, Esquire is from 1908, and is almost a direct rebuke of the Holmes and Watson stories.  Here we have a most competent and highly intelligent and well informed Scotland Yard detective on the trail of a group of bandits (they are almost comical, and remind me of the Beagle Boys from the Scrooge comics) trying to steal the inheritance of a young lady.  Wallace might be the most prolific author England ever produced, so I look forward to many more hours of fun and pleasure with his upcoming stories.  The lead character, detective Angel Esquire (his odd name is explained near the beginning) also featured in two short stories, which were included with the novel at this point.  "The Yellow Box" is an amusing tale, simply told and easily solved by the detective, reminds me of the first story in the successful African detective series by McCall Smith.  Much longer and more serious is "The Silver Charm," from 1910, which also has amusing aspects, telling a bit about the hero's time in west Africa, which leads to the solution to a mystery.  Several hundred short stories and novels await me.

Lastly came the 3rd Oz book by Frank L Baum, written at the request of children who sent him letters asking for more about Oz.  Ozma of Oz features Dorothy and all her original Oz friends, in addition to some new ones.  The wind up man Tiktok is introduced to readers, and Bill (Billian) the hen.  Dorothy's adventures take place mostly in another kingdom across the desert from Oz, but once her friends arrive to help free 11 captives of the Nome King, things seem as if they are back in a part of Oz.  The writing is truly delightful and fun for an adult to read, and the colour and black and white illustrations, beautifully rendered in my Kindle edition, add zest and energy to the story.

The original cover of the 3rd Oz book.

One of many colour illustrations from the novel, reproduced in my Kindle version from Delphi Classics.  Dorothy and Ozma bargain with the Nome King. 

And so begins a new year of reading within the Avon/Equinox authors, and a continuation in the pruning of my miscellaneous book shelf.  As promised near the end of the last blog entry, I am about to reveal a new reading project, that I will hopefully undertake in the near future.  Since the Avon/Equinox project was an entirely male author reading project, I am going to try and make some amends by embarking on an all female SF author reading project.  I will begin with the Hugo and Nebula winners, and possibly branch out from there.  I will likely bypass the fantasy winners (such as J K Rowling), and try to stick to SF authors.  More later as I develop a reading program.

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

December Books Read Part 2

 January has welcomed us with our first snowstorm of 2022.  That didn't take long!  Much colder air is arriving as well.  At least we are quite used to staying indoors by now.  That is one of the reasons why I read so many books in December.  I was finished my required reading last month by the 15th, so on the 16th I began the first of 6 books not related to the Avon/Equinox SF authors.  Three of the six books were real, live books, and three were Kindle reads.  Three were SF, one was an art book, one was classic fiction, and one was a mystery story.

First up was Station Eleven, a tale of post-apocalyptic Ontario and western Michigan after a virus has ravaged the world, killing over 99 % of the people very quickly.  Imagine my surprise as I neared the end of Emily St. John Mandel's absorbing novel to read in the Globe and Mail newspaper about a new HBO series just coming out called Station Eleven.  I will have to subscribe to another paid channel if I wish to see it, and I probably will.  The first episode should tell me if I will continue to watch.  I have read so many books in the past 5 1/2 years that I now much prefer them not to be made into anything to do with TV or movies.  But I will give this one a try soon.  There are ten episodes, and so far 5 have been released for viewing.  I liked the book a lot, though Emily owes much to writers like John Christopher and Edgar Pangborn, both who have written exceptional novels of post-apocalyptic life.  Highly recommended, the book was written in 2014, not long after the SARS scare.

Next up was Olaf Stapledon's first novel, called First And Last Men.  There are very few writers with superb imaginations that are able to put down on paper exactly what they are thinking, in terms that we mere mortals might comprehend.  This is a novel (from 1930) that greatly influenced generations of SF writers, and is still regarded as one of the best SF tales ever told.  It relates two billion years of human history, from today through then, in a most astonishing tale of success and failure.  What Stapledon has managed to do is provide enough material for future SF authors to write literally thousands of additional novels, filling in the details he has forced to skim over.  If ever there was a SF novel to end all SF novels, here it is.  It is a fairly long book, but broken up into manageable units, and not difficult to read if taken a bit at a time.  There is a lot of food to chew on, so chew slowly and enjoy.

Next up was another SF classic, this time a reread for me.  The House On The Borderland is from 1908, written by William Hope Hodgson, the man who brought us The Night Land.  I haven't read it in many years, and though it is much easier to see the flaws today, it is just as easy to become engrossed in one of the best horror novels ever composed, one that Lovecraft would try and copy many times.  The setting is a large, lonely house on the Moors, and it happens to sit atop a gaping hole that goes deep into the earth.  Very strange and threatening things happen at the house, and we are there for all of them.  This is a must read for fans of the genre.  Don't expect great writing, but expect some wonderful chills and mysterious doings.

Rock With Wings, by Anne Hillerman, is a continuation of her father's famous mystery stories set in Navajo land in new Mexico and Arizona.  She uses the same characters as Tony, but we now see things from a female officer's perspective.  Bernie Manuelito and Jim Chee are a couple, and they both are sworn officers of the Navajo police.  Their beat covers a vast area, thinly populated, where cell phone service is often absent, and even police car two way radios don't work.  This is her second book (she has six so far, and another on the way), and it is quite good.  We get a mix of police work and life on the reservation.  This plot involves a zombie movie production on location at Monument Valley.  Well done.

The Cincinnati Museum of Art has long attracted our attention, and when Deb had films accepted in the Cincinnati Film festival two years in a row, we visited the city again both times.  I was able to spend a luxurious day at the main art museum, one of two in the city.  I recently reread Dutch, Flemish, and German Art In The Cincinnati Museum of Art, a catalogue of paintings.  I was reading this while reading the above novels, focussing on a painting or two each day.  While the collection is much smaller than the one at the DIA (for example, Detroit has more 17th Century Flemish paintings than all of Cincinnati's Dutch, Flemish, and German art from all ages combined), there are choice paintings here that too many people will never see.  Like many museums, their choice Rembrandt selection was downgraded a few years ago to Studio Of..., but there are still plenty of autogrpah masterpieces to see.  I also have their Italian paintings catalogue, but now I am embarked on a DIA catalogue of American Art, Volume Three of their American painting collection (which is vast beyond words).  Cincinnati is a beautiful Midwest city of the shores of the Ohio River, and their main art museum is a world class institute that will never disappoint visitors, even ones like me who have been there many times.

Last, but not least, was Joseph Conrad's Outcast Of The Islands.  This was his second novel, though the events in it are related to Almayer's Folly, his first novel.  The events in Outcast take place prior to those in Almayer, with several of the same characters present.  No one writes like Conrad, or as well.  That man could handle a sentence, a paragraph, and a chapter in such masterful ways as to leave readers gaping open-mouthed at his prowess.  His use of nature as a foil to human emotions and deep, inner thoughts is brilliant and unique.  He tackles racism and White feelings of superiority head on, portraying characters not so much as mean or evil towards their "inferiors", but merely clueless as to what they are really like, their thinking and their potential.  Why are dark people inferior?  Because white people say so!  The story revolves around Wilhelms, a Dutchman with a respectable job with a major trading company.  He loses at poker and borrows from the company to pay his debts.  He is caught, disgraced, and forced to leave the area forever.  Captain Lingard (who is in all three related novels) takes him to Almayer, where he proves to be not only his own worst enemy, but Almayer's and Lingard's as well.  In my early 30s I first got seriously interested in reading Conrad.  Now that I have the Delphi collection of complete works, I can finally read his entire canon.  With greatest of pleasure.

If you have a few more minutes, I will go on to show another work of art from the DIA collection.  It's been awhile!  I think from time to time about one of the exhibits we saw in Vienna in December 2018.  The museum chooses a celebrity, allowing him or her to select anything from the storage rooms and to create an exhibit.  We happened upon one created by Wes Anderson, and it was totally brilliant!  I like to fantasize about me being allowed into storage at the DIA (I was allowed in once!), and being able to form an exhibit based on what I came across.  The last print exhibited here (False Faces), and this one, would likely be involved.   

Le Stryge, 1853.  Charles Meryon, French, 1872-1907.  Etching printed in black ink on Japan paper.  13" x 10".  Collection Detroit Institute of Arts.

2 details of above. 

There is some fresh snow on the ground, and the temp will remain below freezing all day today and tomorrow.  It feels like January.  On the bright side, the days are growing longer, and we are already 12 days into winter, being that much closer to Spring.  I would linger here, but there are books to read, movies to watch, piano pieces to practice, and laundry to do.  Until next time.

Mapman Mike

November Books Read

 A touch of winter has returned, as predicted.  About 2" of heavy, wet snow is sitting out there.  Our vehicle is inside the garage, so no snow clearing required, except around the mail box and the bird feeding area.  Last night was our full moon celebration, with a lovely wood fire, a freshly baked coconut moon cake, and lots of music.  We listen a lot to internet radio, especially a channel called Ancient FM, which plays medieval and renaissance music.  We played a new CD, The Call of Rome, with only vocals.  I had heard one of the pieces on radio on my astronomy drives, and ordered the CD, which is amazing from start to finish.  The absolute highlight is a fairly long selection by Allegri, a compilation of Misere settings of startling beauty and emotional depth. 

I read ten books last month, and am almost finished my 11th.  Nine of them are by authors from the Avon/Equinox SF Rediscovery Series.  I am now 4 1/2 years into this project, and well over 500 books.  I honestly don't know when it will end, or if it will end, but I am down to ten authors (from 24), and I still have a pile of books on the floor beside my bed.  I mean a pile of books, as in two long columns, not to mention my stack of "other" books, unrelated to the series.  And I am so thankful for Kindle, which has so many old and out of print SF novels available, which saves me trying to track them down on websites, pay for postage, etc, not to mention the space they save.  I have a small truckload of those awaiting me as well as the physical books.

The month began, as it has for the past several months, with a novel by Piers Anthony.  I am slowly coming to the end of his solo novels, which means I will have to commit to his long series or not.  A few sound quite good.  His main series, Xanth, after having read the first two books, no longer interests me at all.  So that saves me reading about fifty books.  I have read the first book of his Adept Apprentice series, and am about to read the 2nd.  I will decided after book 2 if I will continue with this series or not.  Last month I read Shade of The Tree, a Stephen King clone of a horror novel.  Due to the fact that most horror movies and modern horror novels manipulate their audiences far too much, I am not a fan.  Though well written and sometimes very scary, this novel is no exception.  The father, who knows that very strange and scary things are happening at his house, still leaves his young kids alone with a babysitter.  Not once.  Not twice.  But three times.  Even though something bad happened before he left, and after each time he left.  That more or less ruined the tale for me.  The ending was good, and quite original, however.  There is a good deal of violence, including violence done to animals.  I am not a fan of that, either.

Next came To The Stars, Harry Harrison's 2nd book of the Wheelworld trilogy.  Readers of this column may remember that last month I reviewed the first novel, not much caring for it, especially the ending.  With the hero now sent off to a distant farming planet, we follow his survival adventure here among superstitious folk controlled by the "elders."  Harrison gets back to what he is astoundingly good at, namely planetary adventure writing.  This is a remarkable book, and can really stand alone without the first book.  There are wonderful descriptions and happenings (it really is a "road movie" kind of book) that will never be forgotten.  Like his Deathworld setting, this planet is unique, fierce, and unforgiving.  A wonderful creation!

The Star Venturers by Kenneth Bulmer is another fun pulp-style SF adventure, with big Bill Jarrett hoodwinked into finding a lost brother for a very powerful princess.  Bulmer frequently moves from planet to planet in his stories, and we seldom get the real feel of a place like we do with Harrison.  But Bulmer's stories are just as good, and move along at a rapid pace.  Fun to read, but not memorable.

After every two books I read a chapter from Swafford's huge biography of Beethoven.  I have now read 9 chapters, and we have started the massive 2020-2021 Beethoven listening project, now that we have his complete works in the house.  In my reading Beethoven is now 22, has left Bonn forever, and is settled in Vienna.  Our listening program is far behind that; the composer is only 14 and already writing very memorable music, such as the three lovely piano quartets we recently heard.

Next came Footsteps of Angels by E. C. Tubb, an author whom I really like, as in one of my favourite writers.  This one is classic stuff, as a father (a very, very rich father) goes in search of a cure for his daughter's sudden disease, which saw her go from young and healthy one moment, to a virtual zombie the next.  Similar things are happening elsewhere in the solar system, but no pattern or cause can be found, let alone a cure.  This is a really good story, with some actual science thrown in, too.

Starchild is the 2nd novel of the trilogy with the same name, by Jack Williamson and Frederick Pohl.  Having began two trilogies at virtually the same time (this one and the one by Harrison), I liked the first book here more than the first book by Harrison, but in the 2nd story Harrison did better than Williamson/Pohl.  Starchild is a really good story, just not as good as the first one in the series.  As a few freedom loving humans fight against total control by Earth's Machine, a 2nd, duplicate machine is discovered in space.  The first, original machine has gone mad, and the lost one plans on taking over.  But there is the Starchild to thwart things.  We don't know much about the Starchild yet, but it seems to be an intelligent star, or something like it.  I will know more this time next month!

Next was an excellent story by Michael Moorcock called The Black Corridor.  Not too far from a Barry Malzberg theme, we get to watch first hand as a slightly mad astronaut to begin with goes stark raving looney aboard his ship bound for a nearby star.  The rest of his crew is in suspended animation, and he is three years into his solo five year journey.  Taut, suspenseful, and full of surprises, this is a great tale from 1969, and would make a fabulous film.

 

Though I am saddened to report that I have now read all the novels by J. G. Ballard, I still have 1500 pages of short stories ahead of me, as well as the pleasure of rereading most of his fiction.  His last novel is called Kingdom Come, and Ballard finally gets around to tackling the shopping mall phenomenon.  I mean the really, really large shopping mall, one of those super malls that has everything, including devoted life long fans and consumer-drugged shoppers.  Ballard is a flawed genius, but a genius no less, and his writing is completely wonderful, dream-like, poetic, absurd, violent, loving, frustrating, and nearly every other adjective you might add.  Kingdom Come is another brilliant piece, scoring a solid 4/4, like his three previous novels.  We know the man suffered as a child, and later when his wife was tragically killed.  Somehow he turned all of that suffering into some of the greatest writing the English language has ever had the pleasure to reveal.

Barry Malzberg wrote the novelization of the screenplay for Phase 4, a SF movie from 1974.  I honestly cannot remember if I have seen the movie, but it is available on-line for viewing sometime soon.  Although the story is quite good, and Malzberg does an excellent job of maintaining suspense and developing characters, it is ultimately undone by the silly ending.  I am not a great fan of ants and their doings.  In fact, our yearly battle with the critters in our house (which we have continually won, so far), makes me dislike the little buggers quite a bit.  This is not a good book to read (or movie to view) if you are afraid of ants.  I'm glad I read it outside of ant season.

Written in 1962, James Blish's A Life For The Stars is the 2nd novel in his 4-book Cities In Flight series.  This must be at least my fourth reading, and I enjoy it every single time.  The concept of cities leaving Earth whole and flying out into space to seek their fortunes has to be one of the very greatest SF ideas never made into a movie.  The first book of the series sets the background, back in the 1980s.  This book boots us into the 4th millenium, and we are finally off on a few adventures.  Wonderful stuff!  A TV series based on these adventures would also be quite welcome.

My non-related book this month was the first novel written by Joseph Conrad, called Almayer's Folly.  I read Conrad in high school, but didn't fall in love with his prose until after university, when I read several of his novels, novellas, and short stories.  I had always hoped to come back to Conrad some day.  Thanks to Chantal Akerman's movie of the same name, my interest was instantly rekindled (pun not intended), and I purchased his complete works for $1.99 on Kindle.  Though the character of Almayer is perfectly portrayed in the film, his daughter Nina's character is completely changed.  In the movie, both father and daughter go mad at the end, whereas in the novel Nina escapes her incredibly torpid life with her father, leaving and marrying a man who loves her, and having a child.  In the novel much is made of Nina being white, so Conrad must have envisioned her as less dark than the native people.  In the movie she is very dark, but as beautiful as described by the author.  It's hard to say what it is that gets me about Conrad's writing; he just vibrates my brain like few authors can.  It's as if I lived back then, and was a minor character in one of his stories, knowing exactly how things were and how people felt about what they were doing.  His scathing look at the effects of colonialism and the human suffering it caused doesn't hurt, either.  A pretty solid first novel, and I feel like I am home again.

The lovely and enchanting Nina, as played by Aurora Marion in the film version of Almayer's Folly.

  

And speaking of movies, I have one more report to make.  We watched a great print of James Whale's 1932 The Old Dark House, a funny, spooky, and totally weird horror movie.  We had seen it before, but in a very bad print on DVD.  Starring Boris Karloff, Melvyn Douglas, and Charles Laughton, it's definitely worth a peek.  "Would you like a po_ta_toe?"  We are about to view a 1984 Japanese documentary called Antonio Gaudi.

 

 I'll finish up with an appropriate work of art from the DIA's collection.

 

A Winter Moon, Lauren. Addison Thomas Millar, American, 1860-1913, from his Holland series.

Etching and aquatint printed in black ink on wove paper. 8 1/2" x 7".  From around the turn of the century. 

 

Mapman Mike 

 

Friday the 13th

 Usually a lucky day for us witches and warlocks, we'll see if the skies clear and another astronomy observing night presents itself.  I've had four nights so far in less than a week, and anticipating a 5th one.  Usually November is dark, wet, and dreary.  However, like this year, it does occasionally surprise.  I leave home around 5:15 pm and return around 11 pm, so observing at this time of year does not mess up the body clock.  However, I have to drive through some heavy traffic to get there at that time.

In other news, I saw my specialist regarding my vertigo.  He has me full time on beta-histine.  It's been a week now and it might be helping--no attacks in over 10 days now.  My recent record is 13 days, so I'm hoping to break that one.  The air pressure seems to be easing up a bit, too, and the tinnitus is reduced.  So things seems to be improving.

My days are filled with writing up my astronomy notes, maintaining my piano program, reading, and watching movies.  As usual I'm a bit behind on our movie watching, so here goes.  Deb's most recent choice was the 1974 Swallows and Amazons.  We had seen it many years ago, and tuned in to see it again.  It's amazing how slow moving this wonderful children's picture seems in 2020, with nearly all kids movies these days moving at lightning speed.  Imagine kids sitting down today and watching a movie about kids sailing around a lake, camping out without adults on an island, and exploring.  I don't think the average child of today would last 10 minutes in front of this film.  Anyway, I still liked it, and would be willing to read more by Arthur Ransome.  I have not seen a more recent film version of this book, but will watch out for it.

The 1974 version, now showing on Criterion. 

 

Deb also chose Dames, a Busby Berkeley film from 1934.  Starring Ruby Keeler, Joan Blondell, and Dick Powell, it's pretty much a snoozer until the frivolous frolicking begins.  The expense of doing those final dance numbers must have been atrociously expensive.  Girls in bed waking up, girls ironing in their undies, girls in bathtubs--good old pre-code Busby.

 

 Scene from Dames, now showing on Criterion (until November 30th).  The movement of the dancers and the set up is pure Escher. 

 

I chose a series of short films by John and Faith Hubley, which included an interview with their four children talking about growing up in the household. Two boys and tow girls, the boys being oldest were used in several of the films. Our favourite is called The Moonbird, from 1959, and features the boys (ages 6 and 3) talking and singing in an improvised story about the two of them going out at night to capture a moonbird.  We were laughing all the way through. The older boy knew the story, but the youngest just sings and talks his way to stardom in this 10 minute short film.  Another really good one is called The Hole.  In it, Dizzy Gillespie and George Matthews improvise a conversation between two labourers in NYC working down in a hole.  Again it is very funny, but also projects the fears of 1962 regarding atomic war.  Others viewed include Tender Game, Date With Dizzy, and a documentary entitled Of Stars and Men.  All are good, and the animation is very distinct and original.

 

Now showing on Criterion.  Scene from Of Stars and Men, showing the Hubley family.  

 

Scene from Moonbird.

My next choice was from 2011, called Almayer's Folly. Directed by Chantal Akerman, this is probably the best filming of a Joseph Conrad story that I've ever seen.  Set in the 1950s in Vietnam, it deals with the same colonial issues that Conrad wrote about in his first novel in 1895.  The story follows the novel closely, and Akerman dwells long on many of her fine shots, allowing the full psychological impact of the situation to sink into her characters and her viewers.  A truly amazing film, and I am sorry it's leaving on November 30th.  I will read the book soon (complete works of Conrad for $1.99, now on my Kindle reader), and would love to see the film again.  A great film!  I used to read so much Conrad back in the day, and really loved his writing.  It's been awhile.

 

 

Nina, as played by Aurora Marion, whose life is destroyed when she is taken from her wilderness home to be educated in a white boarding school.  On Criterion until the end of November. 

 

Mapman Mike