Non-fiction: 3 (YTD 14)
Legacy: A Collection of Personal Testimonies from People Affected by the Troubles in Northern Ireland, by BBC Northern Ireland
JN-T: The Life and Scandalous Times of John Nathan-Turner, by Richard Marson
1491, by Charles C. Mann

Fiction (non-sf): 1 (YTD 4)
The Folding Star, by Alan Hollinghurst

SF (non-Who): 5 (YTD 30)
The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet, by Becky Chambers
Bitter Seeds by Ian Tregillis
A Princess of Roumania, by Paul Park
Whispers Under Ground, by Ben Aaronovitch
Gorgon Child, by Steven Barnes

Doctor Who, etc: 4 (YTD 15)
Short Trips: Life Science, ed John Binns
Prime Time, by Mike Tucker
Beige Planet Mars, by Lance Parkin and Mark Clapham
Lethbridge-Stewart: The Schizoid Earth, by David McIntee

Comics: 2 (YTD 9)
Thing Explainer, by Randall Munroe
Het Spaanse Spook, by Willy Vandersteen

6,000 pages (YTD 20,100 pages)
1/15 (YTD 31/74) by women (Chambers)
1/15 (YTD 8/74) by PoC (Barnes)

Reread: 0

Reading now
Watership Down, by Richard Adams
Banewreaker, by Jacqueline Carey
Lila, by Marilynne Robinson
The Quarry, by Iain Banks

Coming soon (perhaps):

How Loud Can You Burp?, by Glenn Murphy
Walking on Glass, by Iain Banks
Godslayer, by Jacqueline Carey
George's Cosmic Treasure Hunt, by Lucy Hawking
A History of Anthropology, by Thomas Hylland Eriksen
The Ragged Astronauts, by Bob Shaw
Master Pip, by Lloyd Jones
Adolf, An Exile In Japan, by Osamu Tezuka
The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas
Quantico by Greg Bear
De maagd en de neger, by Judith Vanistendael
Peter & Max, by Bill Willingham
The Hidden War, by Michael Armstrong
Frankenstein Unbound, by Brian W. Aldiss
The 4-Hour Workweek, by Timothy Ferriss
The Unwritten Vol. 6: Tommy Taylor and the War of Words, by Mike Carey
The Cuckoo's Egg: Tracking a Spy Through the Maze of Computer Espionage, by Cliff Stoll
Selected Stories, by Alice Munro
The Last Man, by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
The Unicorn Hunt, by Dorothy Dunnett
Short Trips: Monsters, ed. Ian Farrington
Heritage, by Dale Smith
Where Angels Fear, by Rebecca Levene and Simon Winstone

Current
Watership Down, by Richard Adams (a chapter a week)
Lila, by Marilynne Robinson
The Quarry, by Iain Banks
Banewreaker, by Jacqueline Carey

Last books finished
Het Spaanse Spook, by Willy Vandersteen

Next books
How Loud Can You Burp?, by Glenn Murphy
Walking on Glass, by Iain Banks
Short Trips: Monsters by Ian Farrington

Books acquired in last week
Representing Europeans: A Pragmatic Approach, by Richard Rose
Elizabeth I and Ireland, eds. Brendan Kane and Valerie McGowan-Doyle
Hamilton: The Revolution, by Lin-Manuel Miranda and Jeremy McCarter
Cyprus Avenue, by David Ireland

As ever, I've run this week's announcements through Goodreads and LibraryThing to count the number of owners and record the average ratings.

2016 Hugo finalists

Two of these have clearly done much better than the other three in terms of market impact. Notable, however, that the multitudes who have read Seveneves are not all that enthusiastic about it.

1941 Retro Hugo finalists

A clear leader here on all counts, and it will be a bit surprising if it doesn't win. The other three were well ahead of the field in my earlier survey. After them, I had thought that Kuttner or Wellman might get the last spot, but the Williamson book is not bad (though bottom of the table in both ownership rankings and reader ratings).

Arthur C. Clarke Award shortlist

The leader in terms of ownership is also second highest rated on both GR and LT. But I'm also cheered by the enthusiasm of the smaller band of Hutchinson fans.

This has been a rather imperfect predictor of success in the past, but it does give some robust statistics of relative popularity in terms of books sold and logged in readers' online catalogues.

No difficulty in choosing here: The Taming of the Shrew. The basic storyline is simply too unpleasant: Katherina, obviously a very unhappy person, is intimidated into submission by a bloke called Petruchio who appears out of nowhere and for no apparent reason decides to marry her. There is lots of beating of servants; how hilarious.

It’s not totally awful. The suitors trying to court Katherina’s sister Bianca are moderately funny, and the Katherina / Petruchio relationship, though generally very dodgy, is almost sweet in the penultimate scene. But it’s not really enough to mask the general nastiness of the plot. I did wonder a bit to what extent the complex father-child relationships, and the difficulties of managing households in two different cities, were drawn from Shakespeare’s own experience.

There’s also a particularly poor framing narrative about mocking a groundling, which isn’t even resolved properly.

The 30 days:
Day #1: Your favourite play
Day #2: Your favourite character
Day #3: Your favourite hero
Day #4: Your favourite heroine
Day #5: Your favourite villain
Day #6: Your favourite villainess
Day #7: Your favourite clown
Day #8: Your favourite comedy
Day #9: Your favourite tragedy
Day #10: Your favourite history
Day #11: Your least favourite play
Day #12: Your favourite scene
Day #13: Your favourite romantic scene
Day #14: Your favourite fight scene
Day #15: The first play you read
Day #16: Your first play you saw
Day #17: Your favourite speech
Day #18: Your favourite dialogue
Day #19: Your favourite movie version of a play
Day #20: Your favourite movie adaptation of a play
Day #21: An overrated play
Day #22: An underrated play
Day #23: A role you’ve never played but would love to play
Day #24: An actor or actress you would love to see in a particular role
Day #25: Sooner or later, everyone has to choose: Hal or Falstaff?
Day #26: Your favourite couple
Day #27: Your favourite couplet
Day #28: Your favourite joke
Day #29: Your favourite sonnet
Day #30: Your favourite single line

Just for reference, the histories are generally considered to include:

King John
Edward III (if counted as Shakespeare)
Richard II
Henry IV, Part 1
Henry IV, Part 2
Henry V
Henry VI, Part 1
Henry VI, Part 2
Henry VI, Part 3
Richard III
Henry VIII

As previously reported, my favourite of these is Richard III. Apart from the excellent character of Richard himself, I think Margaret of Anjou is an interesting character, and it’s the first history play in which we hear much from women at all. There are several remarkable scenes. The killings in the Tower, of Clarence and the Princes, stand out as points of no return in Richard’s rise and fall respectively. (I note for future use that this play was probably first performed in 1592, the year my ancestor Sir Nicholas Whyte also snuffed it in the tower, though as far as we know he died of relatively natural causes.) The Bosworth field hauntings and subsequent battle are a great climax to the play.

The most intriguing scene for me, however, was Act 4 Scene 4, which starts with Queen Margaret getting a decent soliloquy (“So, now prosperity begins to mellow, / And drop into the rotten mouth of death”); she then confronts Queen Elizabeth (Edward IV’s widow) and the Duchess of York (Edward IV and Richard III’s mother); she buggers off to France, but the other two women get a chance to confront Richard; his mother leaves, and he astonishingly persuades Queen Elizabeth to let him marry her daughter (his own niece, after having murdered her father and his own first wife); and then a series of nobles and messengers come with confusing news of Richmond’s arrival and rebellions around the land. I’d find this scene particularly difficult to stage and would be tempted to split it up a bit if I were directing. It does, however, show Richard still capable of his old persuasive powers yet vulnerable to meltdown. It’s really compelling.

The 30 days:
Day #1: Your favourite play
Day #2: Your favourite character
Day #3: Your favourite hero
Day #4: Your favourite heroine
Day #5: Your favourite villain
Day #6: Your favourite villainess
Day #7: Your favourite clown
Day #8: Your favourite comedy
Day #9: Your favourite tragedy
Day #10: Your favourite history
Day #11: Your least favourite play
Day #12: Your favourite scene
Day #13: Your favourite romantic scene
Day #14: Your favourite fight scene
Day #15: The first play you read
Day #16: Your first play you saw
Day #17: Your favourite speech
Day #18: Your favourite dialogue
Day #19: Your favourite movie version of a play
Day #20: Your favourite movie adaptation of a play
Day #21: An overrated play
Day #22: An underrated play
Day #23: A role you’ve never played but would love to play
Day #24: An actor or actress you would love to see in a particular role
Day #25: Sooner or later, everyone has to choose: Hal or Falstaff?
Day #26: Your favourite couple
Day #27: Your favourite couplet
Day #28: Your favourite joke
Day #29: Your favourite sonnet
Day #30: Your favourite single line

I'm late to the party; I was concentrating on other things Tuesday when the Hugo ballot was announced, and on the road yesterday (and have now woken early in nice hotel room). So for instant reactions, you can check out The Guardian reportsGizmodoJohn Scalzi in the LA TimesScalzi on his own blog, and againJim HinesAbigail NussbaumAaron PoundGeorge R.R. MartinSpacefaringkittenAmpersand on Alas, a blogFile 770.

Tom Mays has already withdrawn his story, "The Commuter" from consideration. "I cannot take advantage of a flaw in the current nomination process… This is a rejection of a gamed system, as well as a stand for returning the Hugos to what they’re supposed to be rather than what some have tried to make them."

It is about as bad as last year. In 2015, the racist misogynist behind this got 61 of his nominees onto the ballot; this year it is 63, counting Tom Mays' story. It seemed worse (and it was worse) last year because his allied slate also got a few of their choices on.  I am aware also that several of the slate's nominees are very unhappy that they are associated with it. I have not been looking systematically, but I will note here Lois McMaster Bujold ('"Penric's Demon" was conscripted onto the "Rabid Puppies" slate without my notification or permission, and my request that it be removed was refused'), Alastair Reynolds ('I do not want their endorsement; I do not want even the suggestion of their endorsement'), and down the ballot somewhat, the Tales to Terrify podcast.

Ths happens, of course, because most fans nominate honestly, and the slate voters have nominated dishonestly. Many of us put a lot of thought into discussing and debating various potential nominees, and the result was that there was a very broad spectrum of nominations. I feel particularly sorry for Greg Hullender at Rocket Stack Rank, Renay with her Hugo Spreadsheet of Doom, and Ladybusiness and the Hugonoms Wikia, all of whom elevated the level of the debate to a realy good conversation about literature that we love. Unfortunately all of this effort was overwhelmed by a single campaign voting in lockstep for works they had not read and people they had not heard of.

On the other hand, the one important difference this year is that the slate actually nominated some good stuff which would probably have got there anyway. In fact, some of their recommendations coinided with my own nominations.

2016 Hugo Finalists that I nominated:
Best Novel: Ancillary Mercy, by Ann Leckie
Best Novella: Penric's Demon, by Lois McMaster Bujold (also on slate)
Best Graphic Story: The Sandman: Overture, by Neil Gaiman (also on slate)
Best Dramatic Presentation, Long Form: The Force Awakens (also on slate), The Martian
Best Dramatic Presentation, Short Form: Doctor Who: Heaven Sent
Best Editor, Short Form: Neil Clarke, Sheila Williams (both on slate)
Best Semiprozine: Daily Science Fiction, Strange Horizons (both on slate)
Best Fanzine: Black Gate, File 770 (both on slate)
John W. Campbell Award: Andy Weir (on slate)

All of this means that the strong anti-slate approach that I took last year is not appropriate this time round; many of the slate nominees are not themselves part of the project, but are being used by it to make its organiser look more powerful than he is. My approach this year will be a general lack of curiosity about finalists which were on the slate unless I pick up buzz about them from elsewhere, in which case I will read them and make my own judgement. That qualification, as of now, applies to anything I nominated myself or had already read, Seveneves, "Slow Bullets" and some of the Dramatic Presentation finalists. On the other hand, I will probably vote "No Award" for Best Related Work because four of the finalists are explicitly part of the slate-monger's agenda and the fifth is published by him; the entire category has pushed off at least five better works which should have been honoured. Similary the finalists for Best Professional Artist, all on the slate and none of whom I had ever heard of, will need to be very good indeed to convince me not to No Award them as well.

One final point: I've seen some calls for a future Hugo administrator to simply disqualify slate votes or unsuitable candidate. I am next year's Hugo administrator, and I will not do that. The rules are the rules.

It's not all doom and gloom. I was really happy with the 1941 Retro Hugo ballot. It is a nice mixture of the traditional with the mildly unexpected. My nominees that made it to the ballot were:

Best Novel: Kallocain, Karin Boye; The Ill–Made Knight, T.H. White
Best Novella: ‘‘If This Goes On…’’, Robert A. Heinlein
Best Novelette: ‘‘Farewell to the Master’’, Harry Bates l; ‘‘It!’’, Theodore Sturgeon
Best Short Story: ‘‘Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius’’, Jorge Luis Borges; ‘‘The Stellar Legion’’, Leigh Brackett (Planet Stories Winter 1940)
Best Dramatic Presentation – Short: Pinocchio
Best Dramatic Presentation – Long: FantasiaThe Thief of Bagdad
Best Professional Editor Short Form: Raymond A. Palmer; Frederik Pohl; Mort Weisinger
Best Professional Artist: Margaret Brundage; Virgil Finlay; Hubert Rogers

And I am looking forward to re-reading the fiction, and watching the dramatic finalists. It is a bit puzzling, though, that H.P. Lovecraft, who died in 1937, has been noominated for Best Fan Writer of 1940.

And finally, the Arthur C. Clarke Award shortlist was published yesterday:

Just for reference, the tragedies are generally considered to include:

Titus Andronicus
Romeo and Juliet
Julius Caesar
Hamlet
Troilus and Cressida
Othello
King Lear
Macbeth
Timon of Athens
Antony and Cleopatra
Coriolanus
The Tempest

I’ve already written of my love for Hamlet and Macbeth as plays; but I retain a deep affection for Romeo and Juliet, considered as a tragedy, because it was the first Shakespeare I studied at school, at the age of 11, and it’s stuck with me. It’s a mercifully straightforward plot, not particularly deep or complex, but with a compelling story. I played Mercutio in the fight scene and died horribly. It was great.

Franco Zeffirelli’s 1968 version was the highest-grossing Shakespeare film of all time.

It was eventually overtaken by Baz Luhrman’s adaptation in 1996.

The 30 days:
Day #1: Your favourite play
Day #2: Your favourite character
Day #3: Your favourite hero
Day #4: Your favourite heroine
Day #5: Your favourite villain
Day #6: Your favourite villainess
Day #7: Your favourite clown
Day #8: Your favourite comedy
Day #9: Your favourite tragedy
Day #10: Your favourite history
Day #11: Your least favourite play
Day #12: Your favourite scene
Day #13: Your favourite romantic scene
Day #14: Your favourite fight scene
Day #15: The first play you read
Day #16: Your first play you saw
Day #17: Your favourite speech
Day #18: Your favourite dialogue
Day #19: Your favourite movie version of a play
Day #20: Your favourite movie adaptation of a play
Day #21: An overrated play
Day #22: An underrated play
Day #23: A role you’ve never played but would love to play
Day #24: An actor or actress you would love to see in a particular role
Day #25: Sooner or later, everyone has to choose: Hal or Falstaff?
Day #26: Your favourite couple
Day #27: Your favourite couplet
Day #28: Your favourite joke
Day #29: Your favourite sonnet
Day #30: Your favourite single line

A birthday treat for me, writing on a happy subject. Just for reference, the comedies are generally considered to include:

All’s Well That Ends Well
As You Like It
The Comedy of Errors
Love’s Labour’s Lost
Measure for Measure
The Merchant of Venice
The Merry Wives of Windsor
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Much Ado About Nothing
Pericles, Prince of Tyre
The Taming of the Shrew
The Tempest
Twelfth Night
The Two Gentlemen of Verona
The Two Noble Kinsmen
The Winter’s Tale
Cymbeline

Among these, there is one that really stands out for me. I dimly remember the Rowan Atkinson sketch where he is a schoolmaster trying to beat respect for English literature into the heads of a host of invisible and improbably named schoolboys. One of the great lines is when he insists that there is only one joke in Shakespeare, and it is in The Comedy of Errors, when “Two people look like each other. Twice.” Pause. “It’s not that funny!”

Well, actually, it is that funny. Here Shakespeare has boiled together bits of Plautus (who was also pretty funny in his day) to produce a mock-classical, proto-pantomime slapstick piece which is also mercifully short. The play itself relies on the stable foundation of farce, where we the audience know what is going on but the characters don’t; two visitors to Ephesus get mistaken for their long-lost twin brothers who are local residents, and hilarity ensues. The key to the mystery is held by their father, who appears only in the first scene and the last, to set the scene for us and then to help resolve matters. Shakespeare himself was the father of twins, born in 1585, though they were not identical, being a boy and a girl. Still, I imagine it gave him a certain inspiration as he wrote this play in the early to mid 1590s.

The key drama in the play is the story of the visiting Antipholus of Syracuse, who finds that though a complete stranger, Adriana, incomprehensibly claims him as her husband, he is much more attracted to her sister Luciana. (His twin, the local Antipholus of Ephesus, seems to be much more of a bastard; and their servants, the two Dromios, are basically clowns.) There are other bits of tension, mainly to do with arbitrary justice and summary execution, but that is the main plot. With the right people, it can work very well.

I remember seeing a Cambridge student version where the two twins were played by frantically doubling actors, wearing different coloured cravats to indicate who was who. In the last scene they twisted the cravats to show both colours, and confronted themselves in mirrors. In Arkangel’s audio version, David Tennant turns in a great performance as Antipholus of Syracuse, doing his English accent, but The Ephesians are all Irish – Adriana and Luciana played by two of the Cusack sisters (Niamh and Sorcha), and a generally well-chosen run of accents populating the town – Pauline McLynn, for instance, is the Courtesan. Most gloriously, the sorcerous Dr Pinch is played with an Ulster accent, clearly intended to be reminiscent of Ian Paisley. It’s almost worth listening to for his brief scenes alone.

Still looking for a good video clip here, I’m afraid. You’ll just have to imagine it!

The 30 days:
Day #1: Your favourite play
Day #2: Your favourite character
Day #3: Your favourite hero
Day #4: Your favourite heroine
Day #5: Your favourite villain
Day #6: Your favourite villainess
Day #7: Your favourite clown
Day #8: Your favourite comedy
Day #9: Your favourite tragedy
Day #10: Your favourite history
Day #11: Your least favourite play
Day #12: Your favourite scene
Day #13: Your favourite romantic scene
Day #14: Your favourite fight scene
Day #15: The first play you read
Day #16: Your first play you saw
Day #17: Your favourite speech
Day #18: Your favourite dialogue
Day #19: Your favourite movie version of a play
Day #20: Your favourite movie adaptation of a play
Day #21: An overrated play
Day #22: An underrated play
Day #23: A role you’ve never played but would love to play
Day #24: An actor or actress you would love to see in a particular role
Day #25: Sooner or later, everyone has to choose: Hal or Falstaff?
Day #26: Your favourite couple
Day #27: Your favourite couplet
Day #28: Your favourite joke
Day #29: Your favourite sonnet
Day #30: Your favourite single line

I have been fortunate enough to travel to many places. In fact, the number of countries I have been to has generally kept pace with my calendar age. Today seems like a day to reflect on the places I have been, in seven-year cycles.

I was born in Belfast, and celebrated my 7th birthday in Washington DC. In the meantime I had also been to the Republic of Ireland, Italy, France and Canada, for a total of 6 countries before my 7th birthday.

By 1981, we had had family summer holidays in Bulgaria, Romania, Malta, Spain (with a side trip to Andorra), and we lived for a year in the Netherlands with side trips to Belgium, Germany, Luxembourg, Austria, Yugoslavia as it then was (Ljubljana and Zagreb), Switzerland and Liechtenstein. That got me to 19 countries by the time I turned 14.

By 1988, I had added only three small countries to the list – Monaco and San Marino in our 1981 family summer holiday, and the Vatican City while inter-railing with my then girlfriend in 1986 – for a total of 22 countries by the time I turned 21.

By 1995, Yugoslavia had split up, giving me an extra notch for the earlier visit to Zagreb and Ljubljana which were now in separate countries; I'd had a Nordic trip to Finland in 1990 with my sister, going overland via Denmark and Sweden with a side trip across the water to Estonia (then still part of the USSR); I went to Portugal with another girlfriend, and then to Cyprus on honeymoon when I married her, which all got me to 29 countries by the time I turned 28.

By 2002, I'd added what were then the other successor states of the former Yugoslavia – Bosnia/Herzegovina (where I lived in 1997-8), Serbia/Montenegro (Serbia in 1998, Kosovo in 2000 and Montenegro in January 2002), and Macedonia (first visited in 1997, love going back – my favourite of the Balkan countries). I'd also visited Hungary, Greece, the Czech Republic, Moldova, and Israel. So that takes me to 37 countries, as they then were, by my 35th birthday.

By April 2009, I had added the three South Caucasus countries – Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan – also Russia and Ukraine, and the last South-East European gaps, Albania and Turkey, and Slovakia for extras. In addition, the independence of Montenegro (2006) and Kosovo (2008) gave me another two. So that takes me to 47 by the time I turned 42.

The following year added another four, as my trips to South Sudan (then part of Sudan) took me through Ethiopia, Kenya and Uganda. (I never went to the northern part of what was then Sudan, so I get no extra points for South Sudan's independence in 2010 2011.) I went to Poland for the first time in 2013, and last year brought business trips to Iraq and Nigeria. So as of now, my 49th birthday, I'm on 54 independent countries.

I still have not been to five European countries – Iceland, Norway, Latvia, Lithuania and Belarus. I've never been to Latin America or the Caribbean, or to Africa outside Nigeria and the eastern cluster, or to Asia apart from three countries in the Middle East, let alone the Pacific. But I hope I will have a few more years to put some of that right.

As I landed in Azerbaijan for the first time in May 2004 in the company of my then boss, I mentioned to him that it was my 41st country. He growled that he was roughly 100 ahead of me. I suspect that he still is.

It’s a matter of convention, of course, but I tend to find the scenes with Shakespearean fools rather jarring to the course of the play. It can be done well, of course, but it was an intervention that perhaps worked much better in Elizabethan theatrical idiom than it does now. Romeo and Juliet, for instance, has two comic relief minor characters: the illiterate clown who accidentally invites Romeo to the Capulets’ ball, and Peter, Juliet’s nurse’s servant. Neither really works for me. (The nurse herself, of course, may be a clown, but I think she’s a different sort of entity.)

There’s one glorious clown figure, however, who in the hands of a good actor can completely steal the show in a play ostensibly about other people. He bosses his friends around, and when he wakes up to find that a woman of unearthly beauty has become fascinated by him, he takes it as no more than his due. He also has the same first name as I do. I speak, of course, of Nick Bottom in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, that odd play which starts off abut two young aristocratic couples and ends up with fairies, amateur theatricals, and a manifestation of the divine. The humorous and farcical aspects of the plot are pretty timeless (none of the incomprehensible wordplay scenes of, say, Love’s Labour’s Lost). And Bottom stands out as the most vivid character of the lot – the guy in the club who thinks the whole thing revolves around him, and because he thinks so it has largely become true. Of all Shakespeare’s fools, he is the one who I feel is best integrated into the plot and perhaps says the most interesting things, without meaning to, about us human beings.

Here’s a very glamorous Judi Dench as Titania, in love with Ian Richardson as Bottom in 1968:

The 30 days:
Day #1: Your favourite play
Day #2: Your favourite character
Day #3: Your favourite hero
Day #4: Your favourite heroine
Day #5: Your favourite villain
Day #6: Your favourite villainess
Day #7: Your favourite clown
Day #8: Your favourite comedy
Day #9: Your favourite tragedy
Day #10: Your favourite history
Day #11: Your least favourite play
Day #12: Your favourite scene
Day #13: Your favourite romantic scene
Day #14: Your favourite fight scene
Day #15: The first play you read
Day #16: Your first play you saw
Day #17: Your favourite speech
Day #18: Your favourite dialogue
Day #19: Your favourite movie version of a play
Day #20: Your favourite movie adaptation of a play
Day #21: An overrated play
Day #22: An underrated play
Day #23: A role you’ve never played but would love to play
Day #24: An actor or actress you would love to see in a particular role
Day #25: Sooner or later, everyone has to choose: Hal or Falstaff?
Day #26: Your favourite couple
Day #27: Your favourite couplet
Day #28: Your favourite joke
Day #29: Your favourite sonnet
Day #30: Your favourite single line

There is a sort of unwritten challenge in this meme to try and pick different plays for each day. I don’t think I’ll manage it, but this question in particular prompted me to delve rather deep. One villainess who operates very much to her own agenda, using men and spitting them out again (and they return the favour to her and her family) is Tamora, Queen of the Goths, in Titus Andronicus. It’s a really violent play. One tally has the average rate of atrocities at one every 97 lines. Tamora’s bitter feud with the title character drives the narrative; the story ends with Titus killing her sons for raping Titus’s daughter and then serving them to their mother cooked in a pie. Yes, really.

Yet for all the horror, Shakespeare gives Tamora agency and motivation, and plenty of sex. Here Jessica Lange plays her courting her Moorish lover, though with unwanted onlookers:

Oddly enough this one hasn’t been filmed very often.

The 30 days:
Day #1: Your favourite play
Day #2: Your favourite character
Day #3: Your favourite hero
Day #4: Your favourite heroine
Day #5: Your favourite villain
Day #6: Your favourite villainess
Day #7: Your favourite clown
Day #8: Your favourite comedy
Day #9: Your favourite tragedy
Day #10: Your favourite history
Day #11: Your least favourite play
Day #12: Your favourite scene
Day #13: Your favourite romantic scene
Day #14: Your favourite fight scene
Day #15: The first play you read
Day #16: Your first play you saw
Day #17: Your favourite speech
Day #18: Your favourite dialogue
Day #19: Your favourite movie version of a play
Day #20: Your favourite movie adaptation of a play
Day #21: An overrated play
Day #22: An underrated play
Day #23: A role you’ve never played but would love to play
Day #24: An actor or actress you would love to see in a particular role
Day #25: Sooner or later, everyone has to choose: Hal or Falstaff?
Day #26: Your favourite couple
Day #27: Your favourite couplet
Day #28: Your favourite joke
Day #29: Your favourite sonnet
Day #30: Your favourite single line

It’s Shakespeare’s birthday! Or at least, the 400th anniversary of his death. What better day to celebrate his greatest villain, Richard III?

Part of the attraction of Hamlet is that we don’t really understand him, and he doesn’t understand himself. Part of the attraction of Richard III is that he understands himself perfectly well, and explains himself to us. He deceives and seduces the other characters one by one, and although he doesn’t deceive us the audience, he certainly seduces us. His mistake of leadership is quite different from his rival Henry VI and his brother Edward IV, both of whom prove in different ways too lightweight for the burdens of office. He is less subtle than his father, who held back in Ireland and let his rivals for power and his proxies eliminate each other. His mistake is that once he has achieved his originally quite limited agenda – to get rid of Henry, Edward, Clarence and the princes – and reached the throne, he just can’t stop killing people. His public and hypocritical piety contrasts nicely with Richmond’s more modest and circumspect approach. His gradual disintegration into a haunted wreck of a man is chilling. In the hands of a good actor, it’s just mesmerising.

If you want to boggle a little at screen treatments, have this trailer for the 1955 Olivier version:

But for me, nothing beats Ian McKellen, taking the story to the mid-twentieth century, the most recent period that two brothers contested (genteelly, in our timeline) the throne of England:

The 30 days:
Day #1: Your favourite play
Day #2: Your favourite character
Day #3: Your favourite hero
Day #4: Your favourite heroine
Day #5: Your favourite villain
Day #6: Your favourite villainess
Day #7: Your favourite clown
Day #8: Your favourite comedy
Day #9: Your favourite tragedy
Day #10: Your favourite history
Day #11: Your least favourite play
Day #12: Your favourite scene
Day #13: Your favourite romantic scene
Day #14: Your favourite fight scene
Day #15: The first play you read
Day #16: Your first play you saw
Day #17: Your favourite speech
Day #18: Your favourite dialogue
Day #19: Your favourite movie version of a play
Day #20: Your favourite movie adaptation of a play
Day #21: An overrated play
Day #22: An underrated play
Day #23: A role you’ve never played but would love to play
Day #24: An actor or actress you would love to see in a particular role
Day #25: Sooner or later, everyone has to choose: Hal or Falstaff?
Day #26: Your favourite couple
Day #27: Your favourite couplet
Day #28: Your favourite joke
Day #29: Your favourite sonnet
Day #30: Your favourite single line

Current
Watership Down, by Richard Adams (a chapter a week)
Het Spaanse Spook, by Willy Vandersteen

Last books finished
JN-T: The Life and Scandalous Times of John Nathan-Turner, by Richard Marson
1491, by Charles C. Mann
Thing Explainer, by Randall Munroe
Gorgon Child, by Steven Barnes

Next books
Banewreaker, by Jacqueline Carey
The Quarry, by Iain Banks
Lila, by Marilynne Robinson

Books acquired in last week
A Ship Is Dying, by Brian Callison

Brexit and the small UK wargames business | The Strange Worlds of Orun hi Kharsan

A report from the world of toy soldiers – serious SME perspective.
(tags: ukpolitics eu games )

Boris Johnson’s attack on Barack Obama belongs in the gutter

Nick Cohen gives BoJo both barrels.
(tags: ukpolitics eu )

2011 Northern Ireland Assembly results animated

These are lovely – click on each constituency.
(tags: northernireland )

The Secret Shame of MIddle-Class Americans

47% cannot find $400 for an emergency – a must-read.
(tags: uspolitics )

This is a close run for me between Portia in The Merchant of Venice and Helena in All’s Well That Ends Well. The latter is less well known – basically the modestly born but intelligent Helena – a qualified doctor, no less – fulfills the conditions set by her reluctant husband, by tricking him into having sex with her while under the impression that she is someone else. However it’s a gifted director who can leave the audience feeling that Helena has actually made the right life choice here.

So I think you have to give the prize to Portia in The Merchant of Venice, who gets much better lines than Helena. (Also she’s a lawyer rather than a doctor. I dated a lawyer once, but that’s another story.) She’s one of the most active of Shakespeare’s heroines, certainly the one who comes off best out of her intervention in the male-dominated sphere. One wonders which Elizabethan women lawyers Shakespeare knew?

Here’s Lynn Collins, saving Jeremy Irons from Al Pacino in 2004:

The 30 days:
Day #1: Your favourite play
Day #2: Your favourite character
Day #3: Your favourite hero
Day #4: Your favourite heroine
Day #5: Your favourite villain
Day #6: Your favourite villainess
Day #7: Your favourite clown
Day #8: Your favourite comedy
Day #9: Your favourite tragedy
Day #10: Your favourite history
Day #11: Your least favourite play
Day #12: Your favourite scene
Day #13: Your favourite romantic scene
Day #14: Your favourite fight scene
Day #15: The first play you read
Day #16: Your first play you saw
Day #17: Your favourite speech
Day #18: Your favourite dialogue
Day #19: Your favourite movie version of a play
Day #20: Your favourite movie adaptation of a play
Day #21: An overrated play
Day #22: An underrated play
Day #23: A role you’ve never played but would love to play
Day #24: An actor or actress you would love to see in a particular role
Day #25: Sooner or later, everyone has to choose: Hal or Falstaff?
Day #26: Your favourite couple
Day #27: Your favourite couplet
Day #28: Your favourite joke
Day #29: Your favourite sonnet
Day #30: Your favourite single line

The Medieval Tube Map

Lovely bit of research!
(tags: maps london )

As your friend, let me tell you that the EU makes Britain even greater

Obama on Brexit.
(tags: eu ukpolitics uspolitics )

How to Explain Mansplaining

New York Times reports.
(tags: sexandgenderandsexuality )

This is actually quite tricky, because Shakespeare’s most interesting characters are more likely to be villains than heroes, and if heroes they tend not to be all that admirable. I’ve written already about Hamlet and Macbeth, nether of whom really fits the bill – Hamlet is fascinating, but one struggles to like him, and Macbeth is certainly on the villain side of the line. I guess in the end the most interesting hero, as such, on the most interesting plot journey in Shakespeare is Prince Hal in Henry IV Part I and Henry IV Part II and then in his own play, Henry V. But I’m not sure that this is really the right question in the first place.

Now, having said that, Tom Hiddleston’s performance in the role in the BBC’s Hollow Crown series a few years back has inspired some pretty good fanvids. Here for instance is “London Calling” by the Clash, illuminating Henry IV Part I:

And here’s the story of the three plays, to “Feeling Good” by Muse:

As a side note, I’m really enjoying finding videos to post as part of this series. I hope you’re enjoying watching them.

The 30 days:
Day #1: Your favourite play
Day #2: Your favourite character
Day #3: Your favourite hero
Day #4: Your favourite heroine
Day #5: Your favourite villain
Day #6: Your favourite villainess
Day #7: Your favourite clown
Day #8: Your favourite comedy
Day #9: Your favourite tragedy
Day #10: Your favourite history
Day #11: Your least favourite play
Day #12: Your favourite scene
Day #13: Your favourite romantic scene
Day #14: Your favourite fight scene
Day #15: The first play you read
Day #16: Your first play you saw
Day #17: Your favourite speech
Day #18: Your favourite dialogue
Day #19: Your favourite movie version of a play
Day #20: Your favourite movie adaptation of a play
Day #21: An overrated play
Day #22: An underrated play
Day #23: A role you’ve never played but would love to play
Day #24: An actor or actress you would love to see in a particular role
Day #25: Sooner or later, everyone has to choose: Hal or Falstaff?
Day #26: Your favourite couple
Day #27: Your favourite couplet
Day #28: Your favourite joke
Day #29: Your favourite sonnet
Day #30: Your favourite single line

“Karabakh rules Armenia”

Reporting from Yerevan.
(tags: armenia nagornokarabakh )

‘Accuracy is for snake-oil pussies’: Vote Leave’s campaign director defies MPs

Gawd.
(tags: eu ukpolitics )

Brokered Conventions Often Make A Winning GOP President

Though not since 1952.
(tags: uspolitics )

who2voteNI.com

Discover your place in the Northern Ireland political landscape!
(tags: northernireland )

Macedonia’s political crisis: Make or break for civil society

A bad time for my favourite Balkan country.
(tags: macedonia )

I’m a political animal, and I am fascinated by the way that Shakespeare looks at leadership and kingship, what we might today call governance. Many of his plays are about politicians who get it tragically wrong – Brutus, Richard III, Coriolanus, Macbeth. I think Macbeth is much the most interesting. His character arc takes him from trusted chieftain to demented despot to death in disgrace; he is offered temptation by the witches, goes for it and then finds that ὕβρις brings νέμεσις.

As a teenager, I really enjoyed two novels inspired by Macbeth which both came out around that time. One was Dorothy Dunnett’s King Hereafter, which rehabilitates him as a successful Scottish king and part-time Viking chieftain; the other is Ngaio Marsh’s Light Thickens, a murder mystery set around a stage production of the play. Both made me think a lot about how stories are written and told, especially this particular story.

Of course some silly stories are also told about this story:

The 30 days:
Day #1: Your favourite play
Day #2: Your favourite character
Day #3: Your favourite hero
Day #4: Your favourite heroine
Day #5: Your favourite villain
Day #6: Your favourite villainess
Day #7: Your favourite clown
Day #8: Your favourite comedy
Day #9: Your favourite tragedy
Day #10: Your favourite history
Day #11: Your least favourite play
Day #12: Your favourite scene
Day #13: Your favourite romantic scene
Day #14: Your favourite fight scene
Day #15: The first play you read
Day #16: Your first play you saw
Day #17: Your favourite speech
Day #18: Your favourite dialogue
Day #19: Your favourite movie version of a play
Day #20: Your favourite movie adaptation of a play
Day #21: An overrated play
Day #22: An underrated play
Day #23: A role you’ve never played but would love to play
Day #24: An actor or actress you would love to see in a particular role
Day #25: Sooner or later, everyone has to choose: Hal or Falstaff?
Day #26: Your favourite couple
Day #27: Your favourite couplet
Day #28: Your favourite joke
Day #29: Your favourite sonnet
Day #30: Your favourite single line

Predata Signals Offer a Fresh Perspective on the Brexit Campaign

Crunching data from online debate.
(tags: ukpolitics eu )

She had a Washington job on TV. Then this ‘West Wing’ actor got one in real life

Beautifully appropriate!
(tags: uspolitics tv )

Is it fair for Shakespeare to overshadow Cervantes?

Maybe not; but life isn’t always fair!
(tags: shakespeare spain )

Message in a bottle, promising finder a shilling, bobs up after 108 years

I’ve had cross-channel journeys that seemed that long!
(tags: science )

8 porkies Gove uses to build Brexit case

Leavers lying.
(tags: eu ukpolitics )

Leyla Yunus And Husband Arif Yunus Leave Azerbaijan For Holland

Some mercy after awful persecution.
(tags: azerbaijan )

It’s about time we had some more culture around here. Since it’s the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare’s death on Saturday, here is a 30-day meme about the Bard; feel free to chip in or copy as you like.

Day #1: Your favourite play

This is not very difficult: it’s Hamlet. To repost most of what I said about it a few years ago, this is pretty much the pinnacle of Shakespeare’s literary powers, and has been rightly regarded as such for centuries. A lot of this is because of the fascination of the central character, advised of his father’s murder by his father’s ghost, and then taking a troubled but compelling path to vengeance, which ends up not only with his own death but also those of his father’s murderer, his mother, Polonius and both his children, and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Also, of course, the language is amazing. This play surely has more famous quotes per page than any other, most of them short phrases that neatly bracket some concept – “a consummation devoutly to be wished”, or “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune”. It’s occasionally rather startling to hear the original context of some commonplace line, though it doesn’t really jar the play.

Apart from the main plot, I find two interesting themes in the play. One, not surprisingly, is death. Everyone is talking about it, from the king to the gravedigger. Depending on how you count Julius Caesar, this is the first non-historical play with a ghost. We end up with the stage littered with corpses, and I think there are more on-stage killings than in Titus Andronicus – and unlike Titus Andronicus it isn’t over the top. (It’s also difficult to deny that there must have been some connection in the author’s mind between the title character and his own son Hamnet, who had died a few years earlier aged eleven.)

The other theme I picked up was the theatre. It’s not just the play-within-a-play (though that is more interesting here than the comedy of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, let alone the peculiar unfinished framing narrative of The Taming of the ShrewDavid Tennant version (and I want to do a fanvid some time cross-cutting between him and Derek Jacobi in the 1980 version, where Lalla Ward was Ophelia and Patrick Stewart was Claudius).