Dear author,
I am enjoying your book, with its medieval German setting. But please note that “Lover-God!” is not a good translation of “Lieber Gott!”
Yours helpfully,
——————
Dear author,
I am enjoying your book, with its medieval German setting. But please note that “Lover-God!” is not a good translation of “Lieber Gott!”
Yours helpfully,
——————
The Bayeux Tapestry, animated. (hat-tip
Makes it clear just what a massive exercise in spin the original was. Also makes one think about its contribution to the (much later) development of comics/graphic novels.
12) Blindsight, by Peter Watts
Next up in my set of this year’s Hugo nominees. Lots of Stuff here: a crew of five almost-human specialists is sent out to investigate a vast alien artifact which has appeared in the vicinity of the Solar System, with shades of Hyperion, Rendezvous with Rama, and lots and lots of ideas about the physical nature of consciousness and perception, tied up with a damaged and therefore probably unreliable narrator. There’s enough here to keep specialists or enthusiasts in that field very happy. Myself, I found the beginning too rushed; I could have done with a decent expository chapter, or even some good old-fashioned info-dumping, to get me on track earlier. Also the author has a scholarly afterword written with welcome flashes of wit and humour, which sadly did not leak into the pages of the novel itself. Not bad, though.
…I’ve picked up from a couple of blogs (can’t track down where right now) that classes in sexual abstinence in the US actually made no difference to the average age at which the students attending them first had sex.
That’s no big surprise. But what really struck me – indeed, shocked me – was that the average age of first sexual intercourse among the American students surveyed was 14.9. I’ve been vaguely googling to get an idea of what the European figures are, and while of course all statistics are a bit vague (and do you mean the age at which all today’s adults first had sex? Or the age at which today’s teenagers first had sex, which will pull the figure down because of the reasonably large number who are still virgins and so don’t count in the tally?) the US figure strikes me as incredibly low.
The big European survey on this appears to be “Sexual Initiation and Gender in Europe: A Cross-cultural Analysis of Trends in the Twentieth Century” by M. Bozon and O. Kontula, a chapter in Sexual Behaviour and HIV/AIDS in Europe published in 1998. I haven’t been able to get hold of it in the course of a half-hours surfing (quelle surprise), but there are enough quotes from it in on-line sources that it appears that Bozon and Kontula found the age of first sexual intercourse in most EU countries to be in the 17-20 age range. This BBC article says the average age for the UK is now 16, still over a year older than the US figure.
Evidence from a different part of the world: in this fascinating survey of HIV/AIDS in Africa, the two lowest ages for 24 African countries are 15.6 (for women) in Niger and 15.7 (for men) in Gabon. For most countries it is more in the British/European range of upper teens. A UN report on the Cape Verde Islands says: “The median age of first sexual intercourse was estimated at 16.3 years for girls and 15.3 years for boys” – so still older than the Americans in the survey. The UN goes on to say, “This alarming situation is the result primarily of the sociocultural context and of inadequate reproductive health clinical services for youth.” Switching to yet another part of the world, another UN report on Vietnam states with regret that “The average age of first sexual contact has dropped to about 19 years and even lower for adolescents living in the streets”.
So, do we really think that American teenagers are having sex earlier than teenagers in almost any other country in the world – in fact, earlier than in any other country where I have been able to find statistics? Isn’t that the real story here? And how do we think that the US compares to the Cape Verde Islands in terms of “the sociocultural context and … reproductive health clinical services for youth”?
Edited to add: I misunderstood the key statistics – see correcting post here.
Meme from
Five least favourite stories:
Restricting it to those I have seen or listened to recently, which I actually think are disastrous rather than merely unimpressive:
Five favourite stories:
Very difficult to restrict this to five. Ask me again in a few weeks and I may have a different view.
Five least favourite female companions:
This was pretty easy to choose. There are any number who were just average, or a little below or above, but these are the ones I find especially awful or disappointing.
Five favourite female companions:
Again fairly easy; but ask me again in a few months, I have a feeling that Evelyn Smythe may get in there.
Five least favourite male companions:
This and the next category are very difficult to choose from since there only are, what, a dozen male companions, so almost all of them ought to be put in one list or the other if you’re doing the meme properly.
Five favourite male companions:
Five favourite villains:
I think this includes also monsters, and possibly non-humans generally; the Draconians and the Aridians, as humanoid races with intersting stories behind them, just failed to make the cut.
Five favourite Doctors:
Easy.
From The Sensorites, spisode 6 (hat-tip, with spoilers for Gridlock, to
Sound familiar?
What to say about Dodo Chaplet?
Dodo is mocked by many fans, with one recent survey describing her as the one companion he would want to give “the sharp end of a Dalek gun” to. In particular, the circumstances of both Dodo’s introduction to the series and her departure from it must rank among the clumsiest entries and exits for any regular character. She arrives at the TARDIS in Wimbledon Common in 1966, eager to report a traffic accident, and then immediately decides she is happy to leave with the Doctor and Steven, whatever the consequences. Both the Doctor and Steven behave with such extraordinary inconsistency in this brief scene that it is painful. Five stories later, they are back in 1966, and Dodo gets hypnotised by a rogue computer; at the end of episode two she is sent off the the country to recover, and never seen again; not even given a decent farewell – here is Polly trying to explain that away. (Steve Lyons and David Bishop respectively did their best to resolve these peculiar occurrences in their spinoff novels.)
The third season of Doctor Who saw much stress behind the scenes anyway, with three different producers, the longest single-story arc ever (The Daleks’ Master Plan), and much trouble with last-minute script changes. There was a great deal of turnover in front of the camera too: Dodo Chaplet was the fourth of five different female companions to feature during the season. There is a rumour that a plan to replace the lead actor by stealth at the end of The Celestial Toymaker (the Doctor is invisible for most of the story, and could therefore have been materialised with a different body at the end) was scotched when someone inadvertently sent Hartnell his renewed contract to sign before it had gone through all the proper channels.
Even under better circumstances, Dodo would have been somewhat in the shadows: both her immediate predecessor and successor as female companion (Jean Marsh and Anneke Wills) had real star quality and experience which Jackie Lane lacked. In fact she was the youngest actor ever to play a female companion, filming her first scenes on 7 January 1966 for broadcast four weeks later, not quite six months after her eighteenth birthday. (Matthew Waterhouse was eighteen and four months when his first scenes were filmed in April 1980, which makes him the youngest companion ever; but he lasted a bit longer in the show than Jackie Lane did, making her the youngest ex-companion ever.) [See correction] She admits quite frankly to Nicholas Briggs that she was given no direction whatever in how to play the character. Indeed, she is perhaps too kind; between her first few scenes, the direction she was given as to what accent to adopt changed drastically, to adopt essentially received pronunciation with occasional outbursts of slang rather than the more demotic tones which she had used at the end of The Massacre. (Widespread fan lore describes her accent there as “Cockney”. It clearly isn’t – listen for yourself – Jackie Lane is from Manchester.)
Yet, although one can make excuses for the ropey scripts, the lack of direction from the production team, and the failure to define her role properly, the fact is that even from her interview many years later, one feels that Lane’s heart wasn’t really in it. She had been approached to play Susan two years earlier, but turned it down because she did not want to be committed for a long period of time. She did the nineteen episodes in her contract – her last episode broadcast not quite six months after her first appearance in front of the cameras – and then as far as I can tell never acted again. (IMDB has her in an episode of “Get Smart” in 1969, but I’m pretty sure that must be Jocelyn Lane, not our Jackie.) She did of course later set up an agency for actors doing voiceovers, including both Tom Baker and Janet Fielding among her clients.
I don’t want to be unfair. I think that she does quite a lot with limited material. Every single one of her stories shows a new bit of Dodo: in The Ark she is rebellious and mischievous younger sister to Steven’s more tightlaced elder brother; in The Celestial Toymaker it is she who tries to feel compassion to the Toymaker’s evil minions; in The Gunfighters she is the one who actually co-ordinates getiing Doc Holliday to the right place at the right time (while Steven keep getting captured); in The Savages it is she who comes closest to working out what is really going on in the labs; and in The War Machines I think she does a brilliant job of being brainwashed before her ignominious departure. Yet there’s something missing, in terms of a basic spark with the rest of the cast. No longer overshadowed by Steven, she comes into her own to a certain extent in her last story, only to be written out halfway through. Ironically, her last words are to try and assert her own identity
This seems to be the first time we as viewers are invited to really look at one of the regular supporting cast; up to now it has been the Doctor who visually dominates every scene he is in. However, it doesn’t work for two reasons. The first is that the clothes on the whole are not very flattering. The second is that style can’t really compensate for a lack of substance. I think every other companion, bar Susan, was given a decent build-up for us to understand where they came from and why they might decide to travel with the Doctor. Although Dodo is in fact the first companion since the very beginning to come from our own time (Vicki, Steven, and Sara Kingdom from the future; Katarina from the past) she is oddly enough the one we know least about, and find out least about. She is the girl next door, but one whose parents never let you talk to her and who isn’t allowed to discuss anything except the scenery.
There’s not a lot of Dodo fan-fiction out there. Such as I have tracked down, it consists of the following:
Anyway, I think tha’s got her out of my system. Thanks for bearing with me.
I have to say that of all old-school Doctor Who monsters to return, I really didn’t expect
I loved this. The traffic jam was neatly claustrophobic, the use of hymn tunes tremendously evocative, and the Doctor having to tell the truth about why he lied to Martha.
Sure, not a lot was made of the Macra other than some impressive CGI imagery, but I suspect they did better this time round than last time.
11) Alias vol. 1, by Brian Michael Bendis
An impulse buy in Forbidden Planet yesterday after this discussion. A very nicely done story of a woman with superpowers sucked into a plot to bring down leading political figures. I would probably have enjoyed it even more if I was more familiar with the Marvel universe.
10) Rainbows End, by Vernor Vinge
Vinge has sometimes left me a bit cold, but I rather enjoyed this Hugo nominee. In particular, after a run of really bad stories about cures for Alzheimer’s which seemed to feature on the shortlist every year for the last while, it was rather good to have a central character whose Alzheimer’s is cured, and this is only the start of his and his family’s problems.
That’s not the main part of the plot, which is a complex tale of intelligence (both agencies and artificial), set in the brilliantly realised environment of UC San Diego a few decades from now. Of course, it’s a landscape Vinge must know well, but I think he has brought it to life in loving detail here. Indeed, I have to rate his worldbuilding (of a familiar world) rather ahead of the complex story, involving three generations of the same family in the conspiracy by sheer coincidence.
There’s lots to like here, and I suspect (given Vinge’s previous record) this probably has a good chance of winning the award. I’m not wildly grabbed by it, though, and I wonder whether either of the other two nominees will grab me in the same way that Spin did last year, or River of Gods the year before.
Top 5 UnSuggestions for this book:
Am sitting on Eurostar en route to London and ultimately Bath, where I am staying tonight and speaking at a conference tomorrow. I managed to get through the four plays in the first Gallifrey sequence this week, and they are fun and enjoyable if not necessarily great works of literature.
Let’s face it, for someone like me who is a child of the Fourth Doctor era, the only two companions who matter, apart from the incomparable Sarah Jane Smith of course, are Leela and Romana. And K-9. And, er, K-9. The idea of putting Louise Jameson, Lalla Ward and John Leeson (and John Leeson) together with a half-decent script is so obvious in retrospect that you wonder why it wasn’t done as a series much earlier (OK, it had been done in Marc Platt’s novel Lungbarrow, and in a Big Finish play I haven’t heard yet).
However each has a quite different setting. 1.1 Weapon of Choice has the Time Lords dealing with a crisis on a refugee planet, and reflected interestingly on the topic of humanitarian military interventions. 1.2 Square One features Leela going undercover as an exotic dancer at a summit of the Time Lords and their fellow time-travelling powers; it also has the gimmick of certain scenes being repeated due to a time loop. 1.3 The Inquiry has certain resonances with both The Deadly Assassin and (I suspect) the Trial of a Time Lord (with which I remain blissfully unacquainted); I felt it was the thinnest of the four. And finally 1.4 A Blind Eye has the peculiar but well-realised setting of the Vienna to Calais train on the outbreak of World War II. (And here am I on the Brussels to London train writing this, and hoping for a less eventful trip.)
It’s fun, but not very deep. There is a risk of turning Leela into a one-joke character, which is generally just about averted (except, frankly, in Square One) by giving her the Andred back story. Romana as president is as sharp and sassy as ever, but we lose a certain amount of potential narrative tension by knowing that she is always in the right. K-9 is as ever, and the other characters give their best.
I particularly liked the first and fourth of these four plays, both of which are by Alan Barnes, who hadn’t previously registered on my consciousness as a Who writer. I will look out for more of his stuff, and listen to more Gallifrey as well.
——————
I will post more on this later, with audio evidence, but I am fascinated by the fact that the theme music for the Gallifrey series of audio plays, featuring ex-Doctor Who companions Romana and Leela, sounds very similar to the theme music for Torchwood, which features ex-Doctor Who companion Jack Harkness.
Hmmm.
——————
Three more Doctor Who audio dramas from Big Finish to review.
In summary: I’m generally enjoying these, and thought that The Genocide Machine was very good indeed – the first really gripping one I have heard. Though I think I may switch to one of the spinoff series for a while for variety’s sake.
9) Glasshouse, by Charles Stross
And so, continuing with this year’s Hugo nominees… I think this is my favourite of Charlie’s books so far. In his previous sf books I’ve tended to find myself overwhelmed by the ideas about far-future post-Singularity existence; those are all still here, but very nicely balanced by the experience of the narrator who has signed up for a social experiment attempting to simulate the “dark ages”, ie human society from 1950 to 2040, a period from which most information has been lost because paper was being used less and the digital media used for storage all became obsolete. This gives us an excuse for many sideswipes at the nature of American/European society as it is today; but in the meantime the far-future background is being unfolded in more and more detail, and the narrator becomes conscious of his/her own unreliability – often I find the “unreliable narrator” a really annoying excuse for incomplete world-building or sloppy characterisation, but Glasshouse very much avoids that trap.
So far my favourite of the Hugo shortlisted novels; but I do have three more to go!
Top UnSuggestion for this book: East of Eden by John Steinbeck. I think
will be amused (or bemused?) by some of the other books which figure on that list, such as C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia at #9.
I liked it. If I want to know what really happened in 1599, I’ll read James ShapiroThere were a lot of cute one-liners. I liked the Harry Potter references (three altogether?); the “57 academics” line (and pretty much all the Shakespeare stuff); Martha’s reference to Ray Bradbury (which of course is particularly good if it’s a nod to this year’s overarching “Mr Saxon” theme); and the scene on the bed where Tennant’s Doctor is being particularly alien, and Martha is hoping in vain that he will act human.
I wasn’t in fact particularly grabbed by the witches. But I was prepared to go along for the ride.
Oddly enough I’ve been having a bit of a Tudor Who period in the last week; apart from this, I have been listening to the Sixth Doctor audio The Marian Conspiracy, which is set in the reign of Elizabeth’s sister Mary (separate review coming up), and my own small contribution to fanfic, inspired by this exchange from The Sensorites.
Over the holiday weekend I did a number of Georgian recipes, some for the first time, some that I had succeeded with before. I know a few of you are interested in cooking, and anyway posting them here is a good way of keeping the recipes to hand if I should ever find myself somewhere without the recipe book but with an internet connection (and adds to previous posts).
1) Chicken with herbs (Chakhokhbili) – total preparation time about an hour and a half; recipe claims it serves 6 to 8 but in fact I found it about right for five. The recipe stipulates that you must chop up the chicken by hand yourself into about ten pieces. Probably you could do this with just pre-packed legs or breasts, but it goes against the spirit of it.
One 3-pound/1.5kg chicken
4 medium onions, peeled and chopped
8 medium tomatoes, peeled and coarsely chopped
3 garlic cloves, peeled and minced
Generous ½ cup chopped mixed herbs (parsley, cilantro/coriander, tarragon, basil, dill) – really worth buying them fresh and chopping by hand
pinch of dried hot red pepper flakes
Salt
Ground black pepper
Melt the butter; brown the chicken pieces; stir in the onions and cook for ten minutes.
Add the tomatoes and cook, covered for 30 minutes (or until the chicken is done).
Stir in the garlic, herbs, hot pepper and salt and pepper to taste; cook, covered for another five minutes.
Let stand for another five minutes and serve.
2) Green beans with egg (Mtsvane Lobios Chirbuli) – total cooking time about 45 mins; recipe claims it serves 4 but I think that is only as a side dish (in our case, with the chicken). I found I had used too much water and butter, and had to add a second egg to even things out, with much more stirring and cooking towards the end than perhaps should have been the case.
1 sprig tarragon
2 sprigs summer savory/rocket
1 sprig dill
1 sprig parsley
½ pound/250g green beans
water
1 small onion, minced
¼ teaspoon/1g salt
6 tablespoons/80g butter
1 egg, beaten
Coarsely chop the herbs. Trim the beans and cut into small pieces. Place the beans in a single layer (hah! that’s what the recipe says, but it is simply impossible!) in a pan and add enough water to half cover them. Bring to a boil, stir in the onion, salt and chopped herbs. Cover and simmer until the beans are soft and the water has been absorbed, 10-15 mins. Add the butter and sauté the beans lightly until the butter has melted. Then pour on the beaten egg, cover and cook for 2-3 mins, or just until the egg has set. Stir lightly and turn out into a bowl.
3) Khinkali/ხინკალი. These are real Georgian delicacies, dumplings stuffed with meat (though you can use cheese as well) and poached. See the Wikipedia article for a picture of them. I really love them, and approached the cooking process with reverence and trepidation, not least because it is years since I last grappled with any cooking involving pastry; I couldn’t actually remember the last time I used a rolling pin. I didn’t use enough flour on the working surface, so found that the result was a bit sticky, and unfortunately the bottoms fell off the earlier ones I made. Still, they tasted delicious even if the presentation wasn’t quite what I had hoped. This recipe claims to make 25 but my unpracticed technique delivered only about 18. It’s enough food for four or five people though. Took me about two hours but that would be less with practice.
1¼ teaspoons/5g salt
1¼ cups/300ml warm water
1 pound/450g mixed minced beef and pork
½ teaspoon ground black pepper
1¼ teaspoons/5g salt
Pinch cayenne pepper
¼ teaspoon ground caraway seed (I used cumin instead)
3 small onions, peeled and minced
½ cup/120ml warm water of beef bouillon (I used beef stock)
Combine the flour, salt and warm water to make a firm dough. Knead for 5 mins, and leave, covered, for 30-40 mins.
For the filling, mix the minced meat and spices; stir in the onions; and then knead in the water or bouillon by hand.
Divided the dough into 25 pieces. Roll each piece out to a six-inch/15cm circle. Place about 2 tablespoons/30g of filling in the centre of each round. Then (and this is the really tricky bit) fold the edges of the dough in to the centre making accordion pleats; move clockwise, allowing each fold to overlap the previous one; twist the pleats together at the top to seal. (Again, consult the Wikipedia picture for an idea of what is wanted.)
Cook the Khinkali in boiling salted water for 12-15 minutes, then serve hot, with black pepper.
To eat them, hold up by the topknot, and carefully bite off the bottom corner so that you can catch the stream of juice in your mouth. After eating the meaty part, you don’t have to eat the topknot itself (traditionally thrown to any passing dogs). Yummy.
Ἰησοῦν ζητεῖτε τὸν Ναζαρηνὸν τὸν ἐσταυρωμένον: ἠγέρθη!
8) Temeraire, by Naomi Novik
This is the first Hugo year I can remember (since about 2000) when I had not read a single one of the nominated pieces of fiction before the shortlist came out, but this probably reflects more on my efforts to catch up with classic non-genre literature over the last while than on anything about the quality of the list. I reckon this is the front-runner, though: LibraryThing users own more copies of it than of the the other four nominees combined (as of today, 621 to a combined 479 for the rest), and while general exposure to the book-buying public doesn’t necessary correlate directly with Hugo voters’ preferences, it seldom runs exactly opposite to them either.
I enjoyed it. I was one of the teenagers who really loved Anne McCaffrey’s books on first reading them and then realised that they were rubbish – one of my worst experiences of disillusionment with any author. This story of dragons in the Napoleonic wars is a brilliant counterblast: the internal politicking of the dragonriders is all too true to life, and the girl dragons (and their girl riders) get to fight as well as their male counterparts (though for some reason this is not public knowledge). I’m also in the camp of those who enjoyed Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, though I hated David Weber’s efforts. And I also liked the few Patrick O’Brian novels I have read, so it’s not a big surprise that I liked this.
Novik scores in my book for a sensitivity to nineteenth-century language which few writers can manage; also for her convincing portrayal of a subtly different history and society from what we are used to (as I said above, I found the internal politicking of the dragonriders most compelling). Towards the end of the book she changes one important detail in a well-known historical event in our timeline, with the result that the reader is suddenly thrown into real suspense as to how closely her world’s history is going to map our own – a difficult trick to pull off.
I don’t rate this as highly as the last three Hugo winners, but it is a good start to my Hugo reading season none the less.
Top five UnSuggestions for this book:
Well, I see that the Philip K Dick award went to Spin Control by Chris Moriarty, which I thought a respectable enough nominee, though at least they gave a special commendation to Elizabeth Bear’s Carnival which was the book I would have voted for.
(Anyone want to see how the First Doctor met Henry VIII? Movin’ swiftly on…)
7) The Last Temptation, by Neil Gaiman
I have found a nice little second hand bookshop near work, on the rue Froissart between rue Belliard and place Jourdan. It has a decently eclectic selection of books in English, which rather look like they were mostly bequeathed by retiring British officials in the European Commission. Not all, though, and this graphic novel by Neil Gaiman sort of jumped out at me saying “Me! Me! Buy me!” And when a book says that, then I usually succumb to temptation.
And appropriately enough, this book is about temptation, written by Neil Gaiman in consultation with Alice Cooper, tying in with Cooper’s album of the same name. I know almost nothing about Cooper except that he wears make-up. Even so, I really enjoyed this brief tale of Steven, an adolescent who is tempted by the sinister manager of the Theatre of the Real (a Cooper lookalike) with the offer of eternal life at an unspeakable price. It would have been better to read it at Halloween; it would certainly have meant more if I was a Cooper fan; but I felt it was also in some ways a trial piece for Gaiman’s American Gods, and all the more interesting for that.
——————
has the links.
It’s just over three months since I left my previous place of work. I see that of the 25 people listed today on the website as working in the Brussels headquarters, five are new since I left (plus one intern promoted to a paid position), and there are another two whose positions are advertised as vacancies (so are presumably leaving). And that doesn’t include my successor, who is doing my old job but hasn’t moved to Brussels yet.
Hmm. I think I am well out of it.
My review of this year’s Philip K Dick shortlisted novels is up at Strange Horizons.
It may or may not be significant that five of the seven novels are published by Bantam Spectra. It may or may not be significant that five out of the seven authors are women. It is probably not significant that five of the seven have one-word titles.
Comments turned off on this entry to encourage people to comment over there.
5) The Search For Roots: a personal anthology, compiled by Primo Levi
6) The Book of Imaginary Beings, compiled by Jorge Luis Borges
Quite by accident, this turned into an interesting paired reading: both books are selections from literature and science made by writers who were great in their own right. Levi‘s collection is the more interesting of the two: a series of extracts ranging from one page to six of thirty favourite pieces of reading. I only knew four of them (The Book of Job, Gulliver’s Travels, Moby-Dick and Murder in the Cathedral) and some of the others I think lose rather in translation (eg the Italian vernacular poetry of Giuseppe Belli) but there were a few pieces here from authors I would like to follow up for myself some time (Thomas Mann, Rabelais).
Job chapter 40, on the Behemoth, pops up again in Borges’ light-hearted compilation of tales of strange animals from the ancients to C.S. Lewis (whose Perelandra is quoted twice at length). Not really a lot more to say about it than that, though I realised that it had provided much source material for another important work of my youth.
Top UnSuggestion for The Book of Imaginary Beings: Sophie Kinsella’s Confessions of a Shopaholic.
4) [In Search of Lost Time #1] The Way By Swann’s, by Marcel Proust
I haven’t done very well in my sampling of Great Literature so far this year, so was braced for another bout of reading drudgery. But in fact I found myself completely captivated by this first of Proust’s classic series; his evocations of children’s perceptions of the world of grownups, and of what it is like to be a man in love, are simply superb. Sure, you have to smile a bit at the very long sentences – the editor protests that Proust’s reputation for this is a bit unfair, in that “only” a quarter of the text consists of sentences that are longer then ten lines – yeah, right. But it would be impossible to unwind them. The pace of the book is of course very slow but I found that part of its charm. Roll on the second volume.
Also I was taken aback by the amount of girl-on-girl action. I’m not used to that in classic literature.
Top three UnSuggestions for this book:
3) After Dinner Speaking, by Fawcett Boom
I do quite a lot of public speaking, but there is always room to improve one’s technique. Unfortunately I found almost nothing of use in this jumble of tips, snippets and quotations. I only bought it because it was cheap, but it was a waste of £2 and of the 35 minutes it took me to read it.
——————
2) Field of Bones: An Irish Division in Gallipoli, by Philip Orr
A few years ago I posted a letter from my grandfather written from Palestine in January 1918, during the first world war, and over the last year or so I’ve been trying to get a better picture of his experiences at the end on 1915 and in 1916 with the 6th Royal Dublin Fusiliers as part of the 10th Division in Macedonia. For some reason I had not especially got into the Gallipoli side of his military career, despite the explicit reference to “9th August” in the 1918 letter. But I spotted this book in a Belfast book shop when I was there last month, and discovered to my delight that it actually contained two references to my grandfather – one at the end to his death in 1949, but also another to his being wounded on 15 August 1915, during the British attempts to push east on the seaward side of the ridge north of Suvla Bay. This is practically the first reference I have found about him outside existing family lore. It seems that one of his friends left a fairly detailed account of the war, now in the National Army Museum archives in Chelsea.
Apart from my personal interest, I think this is a pretty good effort. Orr has very much gone for the soldier’s-eye-view of the Suvla Bay campaign (with a minor excursion to follow the Irish soldiers detached to support the Anzacs further south).Of course, it seems that in this case the geopolitical or wider strategic aspects of the campaign would not make a lot of sense; he is deliberately concentrating on the experience of the 10th (Irish) Division, not the Allied forces as a whole. Also his source material is vivid stuff and he has put it together well. I think my biggest criticism is that he does not make as much as he could of the military failure of the campaign: the total failure of the landing to achieve any of its objectives, ie holding the high ground around the bowl-like bay from which the Turks eventually shelled them out, linking up effectively with the Anzacs a few miles to the south, let alone pushing up the peninsula to Istanbul over 200 km away.
Orr also reflects on the way in which the Suvla Bay campaign has been ignored by later Irish historians, in total contrast to the nation-forging effect of the Anzac landings on the people on the far side of the world. He credits Shane McGowan of the Pogues for doing more than anyone else to raise public awareness of it in the most recent period. The problem was that the 10th Division was too broad-based in its membership; within a year of its landing at Gallipoli, more exclusive military myths had been generated by each side much closer to home (the Easter Rising and the Battle of the Somme). And while there have certainly been greater efforts made of late by the Irish state to recognise the Irish contribution to the first world war, it has tended to concentrate on the Western Front rather than events further east. This readable book will help to redress the balance. And I now know the true identity of the Stuffer.