News Fit To Print

 It's been a pretty calm week around the Homestead, and we are both hoping for more of the same.  Weather continues to be autumnal, and it's one of the greenest holiday periods we've ever seen.  We had a lot of rain on Christmas Day, spoiling my chance for an afternoon of hiking at Point Pelee National Park.  Deb wanted to spend a longer time with her mom on Saturday, so I had plans for a shorter visit, and then to go hiking.  Instead, I came home for a few hours, then drove back to pick up Deb in Kingsville.  Today it is bright and sunny.  Of course.

I spoke with my parents at length both on Christmas Eve and Christmas night.  They are both fine and doing quite well, though Dad is still barely mobile due to a bad knee.  As our local Covid cases surge, it looks like we will be hunkered down in January.  It's usually a good month for such activity anyway.  And of course it has been continually cloudy at night, so astronomy has been a no go.  At least I've been practicing piano regularly, and doing a lot of reading.  I usually read about 2 1/2 hours each day, and practice piano about 1 1/2 hours each day.  The exercise program continues as well, around 2 1/2 hours per week, until more is needed.

The shipping channels over here are as busy as ever, but the northern locks will likely close soon.  I have seen shipping continue year round once or twice, and this might be another year for it.  The Amherstburg coast guard ice breaker is in place, but there is no ice in sight yet.  I read a fun article yesterday, on the Accu Weather website, about the tradition of wanting a "white" Christmas, referring to fresh, fluffy snow on the ground.  I always wondered who to blame for such nonsense, and it seems I now have my target in sight.  It likely all started with Charles Dickens, but since then it's gotten way out of hand.  Kind of like ground hog day.  People seem starved for any time of "tradition", rather than trying to establish their own, or observe the real ones that have been around for millennia, such as the solstices.  It's a funny world peopled by funny people.

Our own Solstice Day celebration was a blast.  It was just barely cold enough to warrant an indoor wood fire, though it was of shorter duration than other years.  We sampled the first disc (of four) of Philip Glass' Music In Twelve Parts, and then listened to the CD called Glassworks, and another one called Philip Glass-Piano Works, performed by Vikingur Olafsson.  He is a favourite pianist whom we heard perform in London several years ago.  I already chose a piece from this collection to perform on my next next recital (probably late 2022).  And tonight we will give Einstein on the Beach a go.  We purchased a Blue Ray disc of the opera in early December, from Germany, and it arrived Dec. 22nd.

Just as the pandemic was getting underway in the late winter of 2020, we had booked flights to San Diego.  We had to cancel at the last minute, as Deb wasn't feeling well.  That week the disease exploded in California, so it's just as well we didn't travel then.  We had full insurance to cancel (through Orbitz) and got a full refund on our flight, hotel, and car.  So imagine my surprise when I looked at our Orbitz account recently and found out that we each have $373 in Delta flight credits, good until December 2022.  I don't know if it's a mistake, or why they are there.  We were refunded by the insurance company, and yet the flights are still available to us.  Hopefully we will get a chance to use these credits in 2022.

Other than movie talk, that's all the news for now.  So, on to movies. 

My two choices last week were Heaven Can Wait, directed by Lubitsch and from 1943, and Belladonna of Sadness, an animated feature from 1973 Japan.  Of the two, I preferred the Lubitsch, a gentle comedy about a man dying, meeting the devil, and telling him his life story, before being sentenced.  It was in colour, and had some wonderful lines.

Showing on Criterion until Friday night.

Belladonna is an adult animated feature, purportedly taking place in medieval times.  On her wedding day, a young woman is raped by the lord of the manor and his friends.  The movie is graphically sexual, though largely through symbolic images, and violent.  It doesn't pull any punches, as the woman survives and slowly becomes corrupted by vengeance.  The film is sometimes hard to watch because of flickering imagery, and should have come with an epilepsy warning.  Some of the animation techniques created some truly beautiful and stunning imagery, often seemingly at odds with the unrelenting horror of the material.  A very strange film from the psychedelic era.

Showing on Criterion through Friday.  

Deb's two choices were also from the Leaving Dec. 31st film list, and just as opposite one another as my two choices.  First up was The Mummy, from 1932, starring Boris Karloff as the reactivated man in love with his princess.  It is remarkable how easily he adjusted to life in 20th C. Cairo, after having been asleep since around 1700 B C.  He also has a very stylish apartment, with an indoor pool of water that gets remarkably good reception on various live channels, as well as ones from thousands of years ago.  Some creepy moments, but mostly still fun, in a dusty sort of way.

One of the great movie posters of the 30s!  Showing until Friday on Criterion. 

Eat A Bowl of Tea is from 1989, by director Wang Wang.  Based on a novel by Louis Chu, the setting is 1949 New York, just as the American government is finally allowing Chinese immigrants to return to China and bring women and families back to live.  With the current local population totally male, a young man makes the journey back to China, finds a bride, and returns with her to new York.  Dad immediately wants a grandson, but there is trouble on the horizon, as the son cannot seem to consummate the marriage.  Mostly a funny glance back at a very weird time, there is enough drama to satisfy those without a sense of humour.  Well acted, especially by the old timers.

Showing on Criterion until Friday. 

Mapman Mike

 

 

October Reading Summary

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Best cover art for October reading, by John Berkey. 

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

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

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

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

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

Now showing on Criterion. 

Mapman Mike

The Smell Of Autumn

 My most memorable autumn days were spent at the camp on Lake Penage.  Usually, the Thanksgiving weekend marked the final family visit to the lake for the year, and the Sunday afternoon dinner was always a highlight.  It was always cold, often gray and rainy, like today, and days were spent climbing rocks, small mountains, and walking along back logging roads.  That is where the smell of autumn buried itself deeply into my consciousness.  Damp leaves, trees shutting down for the winter, drooping plants and ground shrubs, and even the much colder lake and marshes, all contributed to this over-stimulation of my sense of smell.  So today when I go outside to feed the birds, I get a strong reminder of October days at Penage.  Having only been to New Mexico twice in autumn, I don't have enough permanent memory yet for the same kind of effect.  Plus it is usually sunny and mild there in the autumn, though nights can get very cold in the mountains.

We have had no truly cold days as yet, nothing remotely frosty.  This means that the leaves will likely not turn colour here this year, but gradually fade to a worn out yellow and then on to brown.  However, the furnace has been on low for two days now, helping to keep out the dampness and chill.  We are approaching the time of year that Tolkien's Elves called The Fading (November through early December here), but aren't quite there yet.  Things are still growing, even the grass.  But it is slowing down.

Moving on to other topics, after Deb's first year of teaching we spent seven weeks in Spain during one summer.  We were in a very hot Madrid for six weeks taking courses in Spanish and Spanish art history.  We spent the 7th week on holiday in Barcelona.  In Madrid we stayed at the university, in a dormitory, without air conditioning.  Besides classes every day, day trips and longer journeys were usually planned for weekends.  All of those trips were memorable, including ones to Avila and La Granja, to Segovia and then into the mountains, and to Toledo.  One of the other day trips took us to El Escorial, and the highlight here was the art collection.  In addition to their permanent collection, there was a small show of graphic art by Durer, including his drawings of nature and little critters.  It was a most unforgettable experience, and whenever I come across one of those works in books (many of them are housed in Vienna, in the Albertina, and are only put on display once every generation) or in museums, I am again astounded at the virtuosity of this most famous artist.

The DIA has a print of his Adam And Eve, and though not strictly a landscape, the sheer amount of Nature surrounding the two figures (not even counting their fig leaves) forces one's eye to explore every square inch of the this most famous print.  Detroit has a small truckload of Durer prints, but also has a rare drawing of a recumbent lion.  I'll be happy to show that one someday.

Adam And Eve, Albrecht Durer, 1504.  Engraving printed in black ink, 10.5" x 8".  Collection Detroit Institute of Arts.

Detail of bottom right.  The tail between Eve's legs belongs to a cat (see below).

 

 Cat and mouse detail.  This detail alone is one of the most complex prints I have ever seen.

 

A parrot of Paradise, which itself looks pretty dark and impenetrable.

 

 Eve is given an apple by you know who. What will she do with it? Pass it on, of course. That goat atop the mountain is the crowning touch for this fantastic print.

In movie news, there are three films seen recently. One was Daratt, a 1996 film from Chad. With the civil war finally ended, citizens are waiting for the results from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, hoping for punishment for the many criminal acts that were committed. Instead, a general amnesty is announced, enraging many people, and likely enabling more violence. A young man sets out to kill the man who killed his father.  This is one angry young man.  The story is a simple one, but takes unexpected turns.  However, the best thing about the film is the cine photography, as we get to see life inside N'Djamena, the capital city.  Of course it shows mostly life on the outskirts, but many of the shots are ravishing in their beauty and composition.

Leaving Criterion October 31st.  

Deb's main choice for the weekend was The Black Cat, from 1934 and starring Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff.  Their acting is supreme in this horror adventure film, with Lugosi a revelation.  Karloff is terrifying as a former Austrian WW1 general who committed atrocities, with Bela out for revenge against him, with an innocent couple caught in the middle.  A classic 30s horror film, and simply one of the best.

Now showing on Criterion. 

Deb's leaving choice is one of the most depressing docudramas ever made.  Dalton Trumbo was one of the infamous Hollywood Ten, a group of writers who would not tell the McCarthy inquisition anything, let alone name names of Communist Part members they might have known.  They were blacklisted, not only in Hollywood, but throughout the US.  With his career in ruins, he moved to Mexico for two years with his family, before returning to the US broke and nearly helpless to find money.  He eventually enjoyed some success under various other names, and it's amazing how many successful screenplays he wrote for movies while remaining under the radar, so to speak.  A devastating but unsurprising look at what McCarthy wrought, before his ignoble downfall.

Leaving Criterion Oct. 31st. 

Mapman Mike