Home Heating

Our house seems cozier this year, no doubt due to our new front door.  We are slowly getting all the worst spots of air leakage sealed.  The door makes things quieter, too.  Even on the windiest and coldest day of the year a few weeks back, only the upstairs bedroom above the garage was suffering.  Our thermostat in winter is set at 68 F during the day, and 66 F at night.  Our ancient gas boiler keeps cranking out the hot water on demand.  We should really throw a party for it.  We have a humidifier running in the living room, and another one inside the piano.  Our wood pellet stove is still out of commission.  A guy was supposed to come and look at it, but then he got Covid, and he hasn't called back.  As long as the power stays on, we are good to go.

Last night was a full moon, so we baked a cake (apple, round), listened to an opera (Das Rheingold), and enjoyed a wood fire.  While Deb was in Kingsville visiting her mother in the afternoon, I went across the road to the river to take a few photos. There was a bone gnawing wind blowing onshore, and I nearly froze to death in the fifteen minutes I was outside.

It was a raw day at the Detroit River.

Shipping season is nearly over, and most ships are heading to winter berths.  Some of the final destinations listed on my shipping website include "The Batcave," "Somewhere Warm," and, still my favourite, "Hotel Toledofornia."

The A. M. Anderson heads south for the winter.  She will dock east of Cleveland at a safe harbour along Lake Erie.  Her bow sports giant icicles.  Grosse Ile, MI lies across the river from us.

A view of Lone Mountain Homestead from the small cemetery across the road. 

 

Deb's main movie choice last weekend was called Radio On, billed as a rare British road movie.  produced by Wim Wenders and filmed in b & w, it is the antithesis of the 60s angry young man movie.  It could be billed as the late 70s emotionless young man movie.  It's frustrating at times because of its lack of anything or anyone to grab hold of, but it eventually works a kind of hapless charm on the viewer.  Some of the photography is very good, both interiors and exteriors, and the unique combination of both that is used.  There is very little plot, and no character development.  The main character is as lifeless as his surroundings.  While not quite a zombie, he does appear to sleepwalk through much of his life.  A mostly quiet film, and certainly unique.  There is a lovely scene featuring Sting at a gas station.

Now showing on Criterion. 

 

Her going away choice was called Scandal Sheet, from 1952.  Broderick Crawford is superb as the editor of a big New York newspaper.  Since he took it over it has become a scandal sheet, but the circulation has improved wildly.  His cub reporter keeps bringing him good stories, usually gained unscrupulously at crime scenes.  He is looking for a big story, one that will make him famous.  By the end of the movie he has found his story, though not one he was ever expecting.  The supporting actors are top notch, including Donna Reed.  Easily classified as a pulp noir film, it's pretty good.  Definitely a sleeper.

 

 

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

 

Dead of Winter

The three weeks following January 15th are the statistically coldest days of our short winter in Essex County.  We are just coming out of our upteenth severe cold spell, which this time lasted two days.  We will have an extended breather until Thursday, when the next cold spell rolls in.  All without any snow.  However, as I write this, a monster storm is tearing through areas south of us.  It's effects will barely glaze our area, but will hit Toronto and Ottawa hard, with plenty of snow, anywhere from 10" to 16".  We could get 1", which would be welcome as ground protection. Today was almost a perfect January day.  The temperature rose to 31 F.  It was sunny, and there was barely any wind.  All that was missing was some snow, and it would have been a perfect winter day, suitable for snow shoeing.  Here is the weather map as of 4:30 pm Sunday.  Detroit and our county is at upper left.

A good illustration of one big mess, heading north.  We might get grazed. 

In shipping news, all Great Lakes locks are now closed for the season.  Three of the lakes can be navigated without locks:  Erie, Huron, and Michigan.  That includes Lake St. Clair, and the Detroit and St. Clair Rivers.  there are still a few ships passing by, but they all seem to be heading to winter berths.  The photo below shows the Manitowac.  It's destination was listed on my website as "Hotel Toledofornia."  Hilarious!

The Manitowac heads for its winter berth in Toledo. 

In movie news, I chose the next feature directed by Fassbinder.  From 1978, it was called In A Year of 13 Moons, and concerns the affairs of one very screwed up trans person.  The main problem with this very bold drama is that it is virtually impossible to have any sympathy with the main character, who has painted herself into a corner.  Her emotions aren't much beyond the teenage high school stage, and even if it weren't an adult but a teen being depicted, it would still be hard to empathize.  The film gets better when she goes to apologize to the man she once loved for comments she made in a recent magazine interview.  This is the most bizarre part of the film, but also the most fun.  Supposedly it was Fassbinder's favourite of his films, possibly because he had a personal attachment to it.  Fassbinder's gay lover committed suicide before filming.

Now showing on Criterion. 

Angel Face is from 1953, directed by Otto Preminger and starring Robert Mitchum and Jean Simmons.  This is a really great little noir, with intelligent dialogue and plausible outcomes.  Simmons is the deranged young beauty who wants to kill her stepmother.  When new boyfriend Mitchum, hired as the family chauffeur, refuses to get involved, she undertakes things on her own.  They both end up getting arrested and tried for murder. There are moments when dark-haired Simmons can be saved.  But her lawyer doesn't listen to her guilty pleas, and Mitchum doesn't believe her when she tells him she plead not guilty to save him (which is true).  After the trial he wants no part of her at all.  Period.  What's a psychotic girl to do?  The ending must have been shocking at the time.  it appears on some top 10 film lists, including that of Godard (8th best American sound film).  Definitely worth catching.

Showing on Criterion until January 31st. 

Mapman Mike

 

 

Case of the Missing Snow

 Not that I'm complaining.  We haven't had any significant snow since November 28th, and even that wasn't really significant.  There are vast snowstorms out there, but they are passing right on by.  The west coast and the east coast continue to get hit, however.  Our temps have been on the mark for January so far, if a bit on the cold side.  We continue to get two or three days of bone chilling temps, then one or two days of relief, when the mercury climbs above 32 F.  We are just finishing up our 2nd "warm" day in a row, and are about to head back down into some terrible cold once again.  With no snow on the ground, water pipes are in danger of freezing and bursting.  Snow acts like a blanket for plants and hibernating animals, too.  We need some snow, as much of a nuisance as it is.

My new reading and computer eyeglasses were ready today, so I headed across town to fetch them.  They are perfect in every way, and include a coating to reduce blue light computer glare.  I have already used them for reading, piano practice, and computer work.  I made it a multiple task journey today, getting the car washed, filled with gasoline, and also returned a bunch of beer cans and bottles.  Amherstburg was almost sunny when I left and returned, but as I neared Tecumseh it began to get quite foggy.  There was a breeze off of Lake St. Clair, and the area near the lake was foggy.  Ships continue to pass by.  The St. Lawrence Seaway and locks are closed for the season, though salties can still get to Quebec.  I'm not sure when the Soo Locks will close for the season, but I would guess soon.  It's been very cold farther north.  There is a lot of ice on the river near us, but ships are getting through without difficulty.

I continue to work on the newest blog, detailing our many road trips to New Mexico.  Part 2 of the Amanda trip is almost done, as the three of us climbed our highest mountain ever up to that point.  I will post when it is up and ready for viewing.  Turning to film watching news, grab your popcorn and sit back.  There are only two recent views to report on here.

Deb's leaving Criterion Jan. 31st choice. 

It seems we can't get enough of Robert Mitchum and Deborah Kerr around here lately.  Add in Peter Ustinov for fun, some Australian scenery, lots of sheep, some horse racing, plenty of drinking, and Americans doing Aussie accents, and you have a two hour family adventure movie.  From 1950, it contains no surprises, though the ending strays a bit off the path.  Good acting and some silliness contribute to the overall proceedings.  Not a bad film, but not a great one, either.

For her main coice of the weekend, Deb selected four short stop motion animation films from Niki Lindrith Von Bahr.  All her animations feature anthropomorphic animals dressed and acting like humans.  They sometimes contain haunting songs.  They vary in length from 5 to 15 minutes.  Two were quite good, and two not so much.  She seems to put a huge effort into her sets and backgrounds, the finest of these in The Burden (2017).  It begins with singing fish, but quickly gets better and better.  Some of the dancing sequences are a bit suspect for stop motion; we surmise that other methods were used for these scenes.  It's a pretty unforgettable film.

Scene from The Burden. 

Tord and Tord has a running time of just under 11 minutes, and is from 2010.  It concerns two neighbours who meet by chance, become friends, and go on to make up their own short form language.  Besides just being totally weird, the film is also quite funny at times.

Scene from Tord and Tord.  

The other two films were less successful, and included Bath House (2014), and Something To Remember (2019).  We are nearly done the next film by Fassbinder.  More on that later.

Turning to art from the DIA, I have never heard of Felix Cavalli.  But his Fantastic Landscape With Peddlars, 1793, caught my eye.  I will be looking into his work a bit more closely.  Fantasy and fairy tales pop out of this one, and it would make a great paperback cover for such a book.  In fact, a story could easily be written about the present scene, and might be fun to do.

Fantastic Landscape With Peddlars, 1793.  Felix Cavalli, Italian.  Gouache and watercolor with pen and black and brown ink over a preliminary drawing in graphite, with a decorative border of pen and black ink, on buff antique laid paper.  9" x 12".  Collection Detroit Institute of Arts.

 

Detail of left side.

                                                        Detail of central area, with peddlars.

Detail of right side. 

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

 

Medical Update, and Some Films

 But first, the weather.  We have been below freezing again since Wednesday, late afternoon.  Tonight (Saturday), it is supposed to rise above freezing, lasting 24 hours.  Then Sunday it all falls apart again, as the next severe cold front moves in.  As long as the winds are low, we are cozy no matter what the temperature.  But once the winds fire up, our old house shows its weaknesses.  Most windows have been replaced, and are the best you can buy, as well as the two front doors.  They let nothing in or out.  The attic and basement are well insulated, too.  But the walls have never been upgraded, as well as four windows on the north side, and one on the east side.  Gradually it will all get done.  Next up for replacement are the kitchen and bathroom windows (north side).  So each winter we get more and more prepared, for either extreme cold or extreme heat.

In medical news, Deb had her infusion on Thursday.  Around the corner and at the same time I went for my regular eye exam.  My prescription changed by 1/4 of a grade over three years, so I am doing quite well.  I am in bad need of new glasses; the old ones are falling apart, and I stepped on my back up pair during an astronomy session a while back.  But new ones are on the way, about 10 days from now.  Just up the road from Deb's arthritis doctor is a vegan fast food place, where we usually get a take out lunch.  So after both appointments were done, we did just that.  It was the coldest day of the season so far, but it was sunny and bright.  The upcoming cold front will see even worse temperatures on Monday and Tuesday of next week, before it again moderates.

I have partially torn a rotator cuff tendon in my right shoulder.  This happened last June, lifting weights in the basement.  I finally saw my doctor in December, and he sent me for x-rays and ultra sound.  The tear was revealed, as well as some bursitis in the shoulder.  So I will be seeing two specialists at some point.  The bursitis one is Deb's arthritis doctor!  He knows me from my visits with Deb to his clinic.  However, I'm not certain the bursitis is a problem just now.  The pain I feel is likely from the tendon tear, as well as the loss of my full range of motion with the right arm.  The tendon doctor I will see is the one who operated (very successfully!) on Deb's shoulder, when she had the same problem (caused by Iaido).  Things won't happen very fast, but I did get an appointment in early March for the bursitis so far.  With most elective surgeries on hold in Ontario, it could be a while before the tendon doctor can do anything for me.  In the meantime, I am becoming quite adept with my left hand and arm, choosing to rest my right one whenever possible.  Some days are pain free.  On others, there is pain, especially if I do something stupid, like try to reach out with the right arm.  So far we have had no serious snowfalls; it might be a challenge to move snow off the driveway.

Yesterday was the first day we saw ice on the Detroit River.  Ships are still moving, but there are less of them.  today I caught an oil tanker heading down river from Sarnia.

The Algonorth heads southbound in front of our house today.  A bit of ice can be seen near the shore on the river.  The view is from our south front window, looking southwest.  The cemetery across the road can be seen, too. 

In movie news, I have a film festival of three films on which to report, as well as my two regular choices.  Let's get started.  First, the Philip Glass opera, at 4 1/2 hours, put us pretty far behind.  So I chose short films for my bi-monthly festival.  Two were from the Czech New Wave series on Criterion.  This marks my fourth (at least) viewing of Milos Forman's The Fireman's Ball.  And each time I see it I am totally amazed at this little masterpiece of film.  It could also be called the Train Wreck (In Slow Motion), as the annual gathering organized by the village firemen totally unravels, and a good time is had by no one.  For the longest time it was the only Czech film readily available to western viewers, and the prints were old and very scratchy.  This one was pristine, and the colours were vivid.  The opening scene is the hall, getting set up for the ball, pretty much sums up how things will go.  A true classic, and not to be missed.

Now showing on Criterion.

Capricious Summer, from 1968, was directed by Jiri Menzel (Closely Watched Trains), and is one of those films that seems to pay hommage to many other directors and films.  Three men, one of whom owns a bathing shack on a muddy river, sit around waiting and watching for girls to arrive and go swimming.  Suddenly a travelling show wagon passes, and a young man crosses the narrow river on a pole, advertising his upcoming show in the village.  The men make the effort to take in his tightrope act, and each one falls for his partner, the young woman who collects money from the viewers.  The three men each end up having their own adventure with the girl, including the canon, wearing his collar.  It is quite a good film, and the humour is subtle and refreshing, as is the film.

Now showing on Criterion, as part of the Czech New Wave series.

Next came Cocteau's Blood of a Poet, a restored print of the 1930 film that blew minds in its day.  It's still fun to watch, especially once the artist has passed through the mirror into the hotel hallway.  Great fun!  We saw it so many years ago in Detroit.

Now showing on Criterion. 

Having recently watched all of the Zatoichi movies, it was now time to turn our attention to his brother's series, Lone Wolf and Cub.  Based on the manga series, which I own and have read, the films follow the story line quite closely.  The first film is called Sword of Vengeance, and is from 1972.  It gives the back story in flashback, as the current adventure unfolds.  Lots of violence, comic book style, and some great sword work.  The photography is really well done,and the locations beautiful.  It doesn't resemble Zatoichi at all in style or look.  We'll be watching one of these each month.  The young kid is really cute, too.

Now showing on Criterion. 

 

My final choice was A Pistol For Ringo, a spaghetti western from 1965, with music by Morricone.  It seemed to go well with the samurai movie.  Both had exceptional amounts of killing and violence, and seemed lifted right out of comic books.  Silly but fun, in a weird way.  I grew up with western movies and TV shows, and still find myself oddly attracted to them from time to time.  there is a sequel to Ringo, too, so stay tuned.  Ringo is an outlaw, but one who always manages to get acquitted of his crimes, including shooting people.  When a gang of Mexican bandits robs a bank and takes over a farmhouse with hostages, Ringo goes in to help.  He messes up a lot, and people still die, but in the end he kills the entire gang.

 

Showing on Criterion until Jan. 31st. 

 

Well, I'm off to enjoy the 24 hour thaw, before the next Arctic blast descends upon the Homestead.  Until next time, amigos.

 

Mapman Mike

 

 

Two Films With Deborah Kerr

 It's already been an unusual winter, and it's only early January.  We are currently locked into a freeze-thaw cycle, each one lasting around two days.  We just came out of a two-day cold spell, with temps failing to rise above freezing.  It went above today, and will stay above tonight.  Then tomorrow, something called an Alberta Clipper will descend upon us.  It will bring wind, snow, and temperatures that will fall throughout the day.  It will remain below freezing again until sometime Saturday, when the process will repeat itself.  So far at least, the cold has not been mind numbing.  No doubt that will come soon.  The shipping lanes are still open, though there are now far fewer ships passing by.  No ice floating on the river yet, either.  Soon.

In Co-vid news, Ontario is keeping all children home from school for two weeks.  It has closed restaurants and bars to sit down customers.  Entertainment venues are once again closed, as are gyms and casinos.  Indoor groups limited to 5; outdoors 10.  Another round, like our freeze/thaw cycle.  As usual, we are happy to stay home.

Deb's two recent film choices both stared Deborah Kerr, an actress I like and enjoy watching.  She has been popping up a lot lately in our viewing.  The first film stars her and Robert Mitchum  stranded on a south seas island during WW2.  He is a beached marine, and she a stranded nun.  Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison is from 1957, directed by John Huston (another name that has been popping up a lot here of late).  It is in Cinemascope and colour, and is very well acted by both principals.  There is actually a good ending to this one, too.

Now showing on Criterion. 

Sometimes a film appears and disappears the same month.  Such is the case with The Chalk Garden, a melodrama starring Deborah Kerr, Hayley Mills, and John Mills.  Hayley, 16, is being raised by her grandmother, and taught to hate her absent mother.  Kerr is the new governess who recognizes her earlier self in Hayley, and tries to help her.  John Mills, the consummate civilized actor, plays the faithful servant.  He gets one dramatic scene to play with his daughter, and it's a pretty good one.  Kerr's low key performance is a good foil to Hayley's overwrought one, as the child who hates everything and everyone, or so she claims.  Worth catching to see Hayley trying to stretch herself and spread her wings as an actress.

Showing in January on Criterion. 

If you have another moment or two, here is another work of art from Detroit's collection.  I got a mailing from them today.  There are two big exhibits coming up this year: Artemisia Gentileschi and Women Artists in Italy, 1500-1800; and Van Gogh in America, with 60 of his paintings.  Hopefully we will be able to attend both exhibits.  The first one runs from Fe. 6th to May 29th, and the 2nd from October 2nd to January 22nd of next year.  Meanwhile, here's another sample...

The Archangel Michael, 1836.  Watercolour over graphite pencil.  Franz August Schubert, 1806-1893.  15 3/8" x 9 7/8".  Collection Detroit Institute of Arts.

This is one of Schubert's more interesting works, as he models his Michael after Donatello's David sculpture.  Attention has been lavished on the wings and the armour, and even the laces on the boots.  The Da Vinci-like landscape background recalls that master as well.  The work also seems to presage the Pre-Raphaelite painters in England, getting organized 8 years after this work.  It's never been on display to my knowledge.

Upper half detail.  Michael doesn't seem to be concentrating too much on his task.  The detail in the wings and armour indicates that some time was spent on this work.  Michael has just stepped out of a Renaissance Italian painting.

Lower half showing the dragon (poor little thing) and the laced up boots. 

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

December Reading Part 1

It was a good month for devouring books.  There hasn't been a single clear observing night in the entire month so far, which means more evenings at home, and thus more reading (and writing--more on that later).  I led off with the remaining eight authors of my Avon/Equinox SF Rediscovery project, and completed the cycle in a record 15 days.  That left me with 16 days for free reading, and I managed to get through six more books, including a non-fiction art catalogue.  I will discuss those six in a future blog.

Robert Silverberg's Born With The Dead is from 1974, and is 94 pages long, making it a short novel or long novella; take your choice.  Sometime in the near future it is possible for rich people to return to a sort of afterlife after their death.  When a man's wife dies in her 30s, she becomes one of the living dead.  Even though she now has a new type of life with a new group of friends, her husband can't let go and tries to meet with her, which is never allowed.  At first unsuccessful, he at last gets to talk with her, though it doesn't go as he had planned.  A second attempt brings the story towards its conclusion.  The story has its creepy aspects, as the dead people live lives quite different from the rest of us.  The man's wife continues her research work, but also takes up game hunting, something she never did before.  And her research and travels, along with those of the rest of her dead companions, seem to focus on ancient history, ruins, and aspects of peoples lives of long ago (which sounds pretty good to me).  A good story, and certainly long enough for the idea it explores.  Recommended, and would make a good SF film.

Piers Anthony's 3rd entry in his Bio of a Space Tyrant series is called Politician, from 1985.  Hope Hubris runs for office this time.  Though the book can be considered SF, it really isn't.  It's a parody of American politics during the Nixon administration, though for readers of today it comes much closer to the doings in the era of Trump.  Many things that occur towards the end of Politician are frighteningly close to what happened during the Biden/Trump election in 2019 and afterwards in early 2020, and still continue to this day.  The book is also a pretty good way to get younger readers to learn something about American politics.

 For the most part, I actually liked this book.  Readers of any recent reviews of mine regarding Anthony's later writing may be surprised by this.  If I'd read this novel ten years ago, or even five, I would have laughed at some of the things that Hubris had to face after he won the election.  Now I just nod my head knowingly.  I wonder what Anthony thinks of Trump's attempt at a coup; I think I have a pretty good idea.  Should you feel the need to learn something about American politics in a fairly entertaining way, then this is your big chance.  If you are merely looking for a good SF story, you might want to look elsewhere.

 

The Stainless Steel Rat Sings The Blues is from 1994, and continues Harry Harrison's most successful comedy SF series.  As is usual for the author, there are some serious themes mixed in here, as well as some great send ups of pop music, for example being able to form a band and be ready in one week for a road show.  Male chauvinists, male dictators, males with swollen egos and with inflated images of themselves also can taken down a peg or three.  All in all, a fun book to read, and the pages turn quickly.

 

Kenneth Bulmer, like many pulp writers, used many different names in his career.  He wrote a two-book pirate adventure under the name Richard Silver.  The first one is called By Pirate's Blood.  This first one is from 1975 and is 146 pages.  Solidly within the pulp tradition, and thus catering mainly to male readers, the story is an easy read and packed with action and adventure.  Sebastien Shark is an English buccaneer, not a pirate, if you please.  Set in the 1670s in the Indies, the Spanish are the bad guys here, as are real pirates.  Real pirates will attack any ship, even other those of other pirates, but buccaneers are English, and will only go after Spanish ships.  If you like rousing action on the high seas, here is a first rate example of what is available.  Bulmer pulls no punches, and the story has violence galore, as well as sex and murder.  With a loyal bunch of cutthroats at his back, Shark is able to escape capture by the Spanish, who long to torture him before killing him.  Bulmer is in top form here, and the book is recommended once the reader knows what is in store.  

 

E C Tubb's entire ouevre is out there on Kindle, for good or bad.  Planetoid Disposals Ltd was written under the pen name (which I love!) Volsted Gridban.  It concerns a company formed to keep space lanes clear of asteroids and other debris.  This is typical SF pulp fiction, much of it silly nonsense, but it must have had wide appeal in the early 1950s.  There is only one female in the story, and though she is a good space pilot, her job is to mostly stay home and let the men take care of things.  Then, and only then, can she marry Steve.  This is pretty basic SF writing.

 

 Jack Williamson's Mazeway is a sequel to his superior LifeBurst, hampered by a weak central character, and an evil alien presence that no one seems to notice.  It's still a good read, especially having read the first book.  In this one we get a good look at life on Earth after the devastation caused by the previous evil alien's baby.  Life isn't pretty, let me tell you.  There are some wonderful alien landscapes in this one, mostly underground, where a bizarre competitive game is played out by teams of intelligent beings.  Groups of three are dropped off at a given position, and must make their way to another area some distance away.  The planet where these games are played is riddled with tunnels and tubes, from the original race (now long gone) who mined the planet nearly to its core.  The underground playground is a dangerous place, however, and not all teams make it out alive.  The edition I read has the distinction of winning this month's best cover art.

Cover of the month for December 2021.  Art by Don Dixon. 

 

Next up was Michael Moorcock's 1982 The Brothel In Rosenstrasse, a superb bit of fiction mostly taking place in his imagined ideal European city of culture (resembling an early version of Prague), and loosely tied in to his Von Bek series of novels.  The book begins slowly, and I could see readers giving up on it after 50 pages or so.  But it just gets better and better as it moves along, until finally it's hard to put it down. Essentially the story is about a man (a Von Bek) dying in his bed, looked after by an older man, a servant.  Von Bek is writing his memoirs, and his thoughts go between the present and the past, often in the same paragraph.  Von Bek was a rake (at least in his own mind; we never know for certain if he has imagined some things from his past life or really lived them all.  He takes a young lover, a girl of 16, whose parents have gone to Italy and left her with a relative.  They end up in Mirenburg, in a hotel at first, but then move to rooms in the brothel.  The second chapter deals with events and happenings at the brothel, and the people who frequent it.  At this point the book becomes fascinating for its unsentimental look at the lives of the women who work there, and the clients who visit.  There is a good deal of sex, some of it extreme and some of it violent.

 

The third chapter deals with a war, and the siege of Mirenburg.  This mirrors the siege of Paris, a true event in 1870, and how people survived during the bombardment, but is even more harsh and terminal than the original siege.  The finest preserved city in Europe is totally destroyed by the invaders.  Von Bek and his young little Alexandra plan to leave the city via the underground sewer system, but when he is stood up his life seems to come to an end, just as the city itself is destroyed.

I loved the book, except for the slow exposition, and was soon immersed in European fin de siecle decadence at its finest and most intimate.  Moorcock has created much truth with this fictional account of a man who loves young girls, especially his Alex.  It is not a book related to much of his other writing.  The only fantasy element is the city itself, and the fact that Von Bek's memories might also be largely fantasy.  In a book filled with quotable moments, I have chosen only two.

 

    "Man's greatest monuments, his architecture, never outlast his acts of aggression."  P. 181.

    "Greed is not evil.  What is evil is the manipulation of others in order to satisfy it; the quest for power.  That is the crime." P. 187. 

I highly recommend the book, but it is for serious adult readers.

 

Lastly in my required monthly reading came the next novel by Barry Malzberg.  Called Conversations, it is from 1975, and continues his short narratives about a very controlling future world.  It concerns young people growing up inside a vast building, kept from the savage outside world, and forced to submit to the will of a group of elders.  The building is 40 floors in height, and each floor holds 1500 rooms, so the population is sizable.  Dal is twelve, and lives on the 20th floor.  He comes under the dangerous influence of Lothar, 14, who is secretly holding on to magazines from the before time, with advertisements showing happy, smiling people, including families.  The children of today are separated early from their parents, and live in small enclaves, and are taught to look out for one another.  When his friends see Dal coming under the bad influence of Lothar, he is reported.  The book is easy to read and has moments that will linger long in the reader's mind.

Tomorrow I will write about the six other books I read in November.  We are currently under a winter storm advisory,and are expecting some decent amounts of snow an a blast of cold air tonight.  We enjoyed a music-filled New Year's Eve, but it was too warm to have an indoor fire.  Deb is currently off to visit her mom in Kingsville, and should be home well ahead of the oncoming storm.

In movie news, there are two films to report, both my choices.  Both were leaving Criterion Dec. 31st.  The first was directed by John Huston, called The Treasure of Sierra Madre.  There are movies, and there are movies.  This is one of the latter.  One of the best adventure films of all time, Humphrey Bogart plays a man down on his luck who joins with two others to go in search of gold in the Mexican desert mountains.  Walter Huston plays the old coot who has more know how than either of the other two put together, and leads them to a high degree of success, despite all the hardships, including some famous Mexican banditos ("I don't need to show no stinking badge!").

Two of them end up okay by the end, but Bogart's mental deterioration, caused by his gold lust, becomes complete and terminal.  A classic which we haven't seen in many years.

No longer showing on Criterion.

Next up was a quirky but heartfelt animated feature called Mary and Max.  An Australian film from 2009, it tells the very touching story of pen pals Mary, a lonely and homely child from Australia, and Max, a severely obese adult male who suffers from Asperger's Syndrome. The film spans twenty years in their on again off again relationship.  Some of the humour is very dark, and at the expense of several pet goldfish, but there is much to love about this film, which also has haunting moments that most real acted films would not dare approach.  Definitely worth catching, if you are lucky enough.

 

No longer showing on Criterion, but definitely worth seeking out. 

 

Over the holidays we had the great misfortune to watch the 270 version of Einstein on the Beach on blue ray.  This is possibly the world's leading example of over indulgent, pretentious crap.  Because of Robert Wilson's "vision" and execution, Glass' music has to loop ad infinitum to get through a scene.  Filled with contorted faces, repetitive body movements, meaningless snatches of poetry repeated ad nauseam, anyone who can sit through this in one go should be locked away in an asylum.  A lot of people continue to be taken in by this gloss.  The full version stinks to high heaven.  Now, there is a CD (music only) of musical highlights, which sounds more like what I might listen to again.  But if anyone wants a blue ray copy, let me know--it's available.  P.S.  This is not an opera by any definition.  It is a vastly overextended piece of bad performance art, that should have been left in the dung heap in 1976.  Instead, it keeps magically reappearing from time to time.  I remember when this version was presented several times in Ann Arbor, before it set out on its world tour.  I did not go near it then, and I should have stayed away now.

Mapman Mike