2023 books in review

I read 351 books this year, the second highest of the twenty years that I have been keeping count. (The highest was 2008, when I read all of the Doctor Who novelisations and most of Shakespeare.) My page count was 86,900, which is only 6th out of 20, though the highest since 2014. Both tallies include a fair number of Clarke Award submissions which I ruthlessly set aside at the 50 page mark. I’ve also been reading some shorter books, notably Doctor Who comics and the Black Archives.

148 (42%) of those book were by non-male writers, which is a record in both cases (this year’s 42.2% is a smidgen above 2021’s 41.9%). 42 were by non-white writers, which is joint equal with 2021’s record, though the percentage (12%) is lower than three of the last four years.

Science Fiction

164 (47%) of these books were SF, not counting Doctor Who novels. That’s the highest number in 20 years, and the highest percentage since 2005.

Top sf books of the year:
I’m really proud of the Arthur C. Clarke shortlist:
Venomous Lumpsucker by Ned Beauman (Review; get it here)
The Coral Bones by E.J. Swift (Review; get it here)
The Anomaly by Hervé le Tellier (Review; get it here)
Plutoshine by Lucy Kissick (Review; get it here)
Metronome by Tom Watson (Review; get it here)
The Red Scholar’s Wake by Aliette de Bodard (Review; get it here)

Honorable mentions to:
The Chosen and the Beautiful, by Nghi Vo; a re-telling of The Great Gatsby with a queer fantasy twist. (Review; get it here)
All the Names They Used for God, by Anjali Sachdeva; tremendous collection of short stories. (Review; get it here)

Welcome rereads:
Cart and Cwidder, by Diana Wynne Jones; first in the Dalemark Quartet series of YA fantasy novels, a very moral but exciting tale. (Review; get it here)
Ancillary Sword, by Ann Leckie; second in the series of Raadch novels, with a fierce core of justice and a protagonist who is more than human. (Review; get it here)

The one you haven’t heard of:
Appliance, by J.O. Morgan; set of short stories about the transformation of society caused by the invention of a teleporter. (Review; get it here)

The ones to avoid:
(from the Clarke slush pile)
The Hunt – for Allies, by David Geoffrey Adams; badly written and incomprehensible. (Review; get it here)
Harpan’s Worlds: Worlds Apart, by Terry Jackman; MilSF rubbish. (Review; get it here)

Non-fiction

86 (25%) of these books were non-fiction, the third highest number in twenty years (after last year and 2009) and 7th highest percentage. It’s boosted by the Black Archives, which I am reading at the rate of two every month. (I’ll catch up to current publication in the summer.)

Top non-fiction book of the year:
The January 6 report, by a special committee of the House of Representatives. Outlines in awful detail what happened on the day that Donald Trump incited his supporters to attempt to overthrow American democracy. A warning for what could lie ahead of us in 2024. (Review; get it here)

Honorable mentions to:
Terry Pratchett: A Life with Footnotes, by Rob Wilkins; winner of the BSFA Award and the Hugo, a humane and detailed account of Pratchett’s life and writing style. (Review; get it here)
Fanny Kemble’s Civil Wars, by Catherine Clinton; the best biography I have yet read of the fascinating nineteenth century actor, writer and activist. (Review; get it here)

The one you haven’t heard of:
Gifted Amateurs and Other Essays, by David Bratman; a lovely collection of thoughtful pieces on Tolkien, the Inklings and fantasy more generally. (Review; get it here)

The ones to avoid:
Dispatches from Chengdu, by Abdiel Leroy, and Charmed in Chengdu, by Michael O’Neal; two dreadful books in which American expats show their white asses while working in China. (Review; get them here and here)

Doctor Who

I read 37 Doctor Who fiction books this year (11%), which is the 12th highest number and 16th highest percentage of the last twenty years. But broadening out to include non-fiction and comics, the number goes up to 79 (23%), the 5th highest number and 10th highest percentage since I started keeping track. Again, the Black Archives add to the latter total.

Top Doctor Who book of the year:
Doctor Who: The Giggle, by James Goss; inventive and imaginative adaptation of the last David Tennant episode for the printed page. (Review; get it here)

Honorable mentions to:
(Black Archive) The Deadly Assassin, by Andrew Orton; almost all of the Black Archive monographs are very very good, but I think this was my favourite of the year, shedding more light onto my favourite story of Old Who. (Review; get it here)
(comics) The Weeping Angels of Mons, by Robbie Morrison et al; there have been a number of treatments of Doctor Who and the First World War, but this is one of the best for my money, featuring the Tenth Doctor. (Review; get it here)
(another novelisation) Doctor Who: The Androids of Tara, by David Fisher; brings a lot more to his TV script than we had previously seen. (Review; get it here)
(Faction Paradox) Erasing Sherlock, by Kelly Hale; I had already given up on the Faction Paradox sequence by the time I got around to reading this, but to my surprise it worked very well for me. (Review; get it here)

Welcome re-reads:
Doctor Who and the Cave Monsters, by Malcolm Hulke; one of the best Old Who adaptations, the novel version of the Pertwee story Doctor Who and the Silurians. (Review; get it here)
Doctor Who: The Day of the Doctor, by Steven Moffat; adaptation of the two stories that closed off the Eleventh Doctor era, tightening up and filling out the story we saw on screen. (Review; get it here)

The one you haven’t heard of:
The Daleks, collection of strips from TV Century 21 magazine from 1965-67, told from the point of view of the malevolent pepperpots and really very enjoyable. (Review; out of print)

The one to avoid:
Sil and the Devil Seeds of Arodor, by Philip Martin. Apparently the book of a video which I haven’t seen, and don’t really want to. (Review; get it here)

Non-genre

I read 29 non-genre fiction books this year (8%), the 14th highest number and 16th highest percentage of twenty years. My selection procedure tends to favour Doctor Who and other sf these days.

Top non-genre book of the year:
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, by Gabrielle Zevin; a well-told, gripping and moving story about two friends from California who end up writing computer games together. (Review; get it here)

Honorable mentions to:
Winter, by Ali Smith; a short but very intense novel about a family Christmas in England, the recent political past, and questions of identity. (Review; get it here)
The Cider House Rules, by John Irving; I had not read this before, but it’s a heart-breaking saga of a New England orphanage in the mid-twentieth century, situating abortion in its human context. (Review; get it here)

Welcome re-reads:
Whose Body?, by Dorothy L. Sayers; the first of the Lord Peter Wimsey novels, one of the best known books still in circulation from 1923, and still a great read. (Review; get it here)
The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald; short but very effective character study of the central character and of a whole society in New York State just after the First World War. (Review; get it here)

The one you haven’t heard of:
Jill, by Amy Dillwyn; of the half-dozen novels written in the 1880s by my distant cousin, a prominent Welsh feminist, this is the best, taking her title character all around Europe in search of female comfort and enlightenment. (Review; get it here)

The one to avoid:
Keats and Chapman Wryed Again, by Steven A. Jent; an attempt to write more Myles na Gopaleen-style anecdotes about the poet and the writer. Why? (Review; get it here)

Comics

A relatively low year for comics reading also, with 28 in total (8%), the 6th highest number and 12th highest percentage in my records.

More than half of those were Doctor Who comics, covered above. Of the other 13:

Top comic of the year:
Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow, by Tom King, Bilquis Evely and Matheus Lopes; I’m not hugely invested in the Supergirl / Superman mythos, but I thought this did great things with great characters. (Review; get it here)

Honorable mentions to:
The Secret to Superhuman Strength, by Alison Bechdel; reflections on fitness, literature and love. (Review; get it here)
Jaren van de Olifant, by Willy Linthout; dealing with a family member’s suicide, expanded by 25% from the first edition. (Not yet reviewed; get it here)

The one you haven’t heard of:
Neptune, vols 1 and 2, by Leo; a nice two-part taster for the work of the great Brazilian-French artist and writer, carrying on the story of Kim from the Aldébaran Cycle. (Review; get it here and here in French, here and here in English)

The one to avoid:
Cyberpunk 2077: Big City Dreams, by Bartosz Sztybor, Filipe Andrade, Alessio Fioriniello, Roman Titov, and Krzysztof Ostrowski; won the Hugo, clearly vey popular in China, but I could not make head nor tail of it. (Review; get it here)

Others

I read four works of poetry, and one play. They are all very good. In the order that I read them:

Book of the year

This is actually a fairly easy choice. The Arthur C. Clarke Award judging process is one of the most pleasurable sf-related activities I have engaged in (stop looking at me like that) and I’m very happy with the shortlist. I will be honest; I personally went back and forth between E.J. Swift’s the Coral Bones and the eventual winner, but on reflection I’m happy to name my book of 2023 as the glorious satire on environmental destruction, Venomous Lumpsucker by Ned Beauman, to which we gave the award. Here is my write-up, and you can get it here.

Previous Books of the Year:

2003 (2 months): The Separation, by Christopher Priest (reviewget it here)
2004: (reread) The Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien (reviewget it here)
– Best new read: Samuel Pepys: The Unequalled Self, by Claire Tomalin (reviewget it here)
2005: The Island at the Centre of the World, by Russell Shorto (reviewget it here)
2006: Lost Lives: The stories of the men, women and children who died as a result of the Northern Ireland troubles, by David McKittrick, Seamus Kelters, Brian Feeney, Chris Thornton and David McVea (reviewget it here)
2007: Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic, by Alison Bechdel (reviewget it here)
2008: (reread) The Diary of a Young Girl: The Definitive Edition, by Anne Frank (reviewget it here)
– Best new read: Vanity Fair: A Novel without a Hero, by William Makepeace Thackeray (reviewget it here)
2009: (had seen it on stage previously) Hamlet, by William Shakespeare (reviewget it here)
– Best new read: Persepolis 2: the Story of a Return, by Marjane Satrapi (first volume just pipped by Samuel Pepys in 2004) (reviewget it here)
2010: The Bloody Sunday Report, by Lord Savile et al. (review of vol Iget it here)
2011: The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, by Edward Gibbon (started in 2009!) (reviewget it here)
2012: The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, by Anne Brontë (reviewget it here)
2013: A Room of One’s Own, by Virginia Woolf (reviewget it here)
2014: Homage to Catalonia, by George Orwell (reviewget it here)
2015: collectively, the Arthur C. Clarke Award shortlist, in particular the winner, Station Eleven, by Emily St John Mandel (review; get it here).
– Best book I actually blogged about in 2015: The Life and Death of Mary Wollstonecraft, by Claire Tomalin (reviewget it here)
2016: Alice in Sunderland, by Bryan Talbot (reviewget it here)
2017: Common People: The History of an English Family, by Alison Light (reviewget it here)
2018: Factfulness, by Hans Rosling (reviewget it here)
2019: Girl, Woman, Other, by Bernardine Evaristo (reviewget it here)
2020: From A Clear Blue Sky: Surviving the Mountbatten Bomb, by Timothy Knatchbull (reviewget it here)
2021: Carrying the Fire, by Michael Collins (reviewget it here)
2022: The Sun is Open, by Gail McConnell (review; get it here)

Sunday and December books

Sunday books

(This will shift to Mondays as of tomorrow week)

Last books finished
Bee Quest, by Dave Goulson
Lunar Descent, by Allen Steele
In Xanadu, by Lavie Tidhar
The New Machiavelli, by H. G. Wells
Emotional Chemistry, by Simon Forward
Marking Time, by Elizabeth Jane Howard
iLobby.eu, by Caroline de Cock

December Reading

Non-fiction 7 (YTD 86)
Recollections of Virginia Woolf by Her Contemporaries, by Joan Russell Noble
Invasion of the Dinosaurs, by Jon Arnold
Atlas of Irish History, by Ruth Dudley Edwards
Into the Unknown, eds. Laura Clarke and Patrick Gyger
The Haunting of Villa Diodati, by Philip Purser-Hallard
Bee Quest, by Dave Goulson
iLobby.eu, by Caroline de Cock

Non-genre 2 (YTD 29)
The New Machiavelli, by H. G. Wells
Marking Time, by Elizabeth Jane Howard

SF 5 (YTD 164)
Giants at the End of the World, eds. Johanna Sinisalo & Toni Jerrmann
Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel
A Long Day in Lychford, by Paul Cornell
Lunar Descent, by Allen Steele
In Xanadu, by Lavie Tidhar

Doctor Who 5 (YTD 37)
Doctor Who: The Star Beast, by Gary Russell
Doctor Who and the Dinosaur Invasion, by Malcolm Hulke
Doctor Who: Wild Blue Yonder, by Mark Morris
Doctor Who: The Giggle, by James Goss
Emotional Chemistry, by Simon Forward

Comics 2 (YTD 28)
Facing Fate: The Good Companion, by Nick Abadzis et al
Jaren van de olifant, by Willy Linthout

4,900 pages (YTD 86,900)
7/21 (YTD 148/351) by non-male writers (Edwards, Clarke, de Cock, Howard, Sinisalo, St John Mandel, illustrators of The Good Companion)
None (YTD 42/351) by a non-white writer
3 rereads (Station Eleven, Doctor Who and the Dinosaur Invasion, Emotional Chemistry)

312 books currently tagged unread – down 26 from last month after some reorganising

Reading now

The Future, by Naomi Alderman
Tristram Shandy, by Laurence Sterne

Coming soon (perhaps)

After Life, by Al Ewing et al
Blackpool Revisited, by John Collier
Vincent and the Doctor, by Paul Driscoll
Doctor Who and the Talons of Weng-Chiang, by Terrance Dicks
The Talons of Weng-Chiang, by Dale Smith
Rule of Law, by Glynis Breitenbach
The Beautifull Cassandra, by Jane Austen
Attack on Thebes, by M.D. Cooper
Three Plays, by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart
A Life in Questions, by Jeremy Paxman
Strawberry and the Soul Reapers, by Tite Kubo
The Dawnhounds, by Sasha Stronach
Yellowface, by R.F. Kuang
“The New Mother”, by Eugene Fischer
“Georgia on my Mind”, by Charles Sheffield
Tintin au Pays de l’Or Noir, by Hergé
Notes from the Burning Age, by Claire North
The Wheels of Chance, by H.G. Wells
Confusion, by Elizabeth Jane Howard
How Democracies Die, by Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt
Babel, by R.F. Kuancg
Foxglove Summer, by Ben Aaronovitch
The Pragmatic Programmer, by David thomas and Andrew Hunt
The Unsettled Dust, by Robert Aickman
Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett
Doctor Zhivago, by Boris Pasternak

Annual roundup to come shortly.

Everything Everywhere All at Once

Everything Everywhere All at Once won the 2023 Best Picture Oscar, and six others: Best Director (Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert), Best Actress (Michelle Yeoh), Best Supporting Actor (Ke Huy Quan), Best Supporting Actress (Jamie Lee Curtis), Best Original Screenplay and Best Film Editing. It also won the Ray Bradbury Award and the Hugo Award for Best Dramatic Presentation, Long Form.

I was in the hall in Chengdu when the Hugo result was announced, and there was a collective gasp of delight at what was clearly felt to be a win for the home team. I heard or saw someone comment afterwards that this is remarkable because you can’t actually watch it in China. That comment is rather deluded – for all I know, it may not have been released in cinemas, but you can bet for sure that it has been watched by many many people in China. In any case, it got precisely half the first preference votes for the Hugo, and sailed across the line on the second stage.

The other Oscar nominees for Best Picture were All Quiet on the Western Front, Avatar: The Way of Water, The Banshees of Inisherin, Elvis, The Fabelmans, Tár, Top Gun: Maverick, Triangle of Sadness and Women Talking. I have seen none of them. The other Hugo finalists were Turning Red, Nope, Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, Avatar: The Way of Water again and a TV series. The only one of these that I have seen is Black Panther: Wakanda Forever; and I’m afraid the only other films from last year that I can remember seeing are Glass Onion and Enola Holmes 2. IMDB users rank EEAaO 4th on one list and 7th on the other, with only The Batman ahead of it on both.

Here’s a trailer.

I spotted two actors who had been in previous Hugo/Bradbury winners, though none from previous Oscar winners. The first of these, obviously, is Michelle Yeoh, who is the protagonist Evelyn Wang here and was also Yu Shu Lien, one of the lead characters in Couching Tiger, Hidden Dragon back in 2000.

You may be scratching your head about the other returnee from a Hugo / Nebula winning film. It is James Hong, who plays Gong Gong, Michelle Yeoh’s character’s father here, and was also Hannibal Chew, the maker of replicants’ eyes, in Blade Runner back in 1982. Given that he was born in 1929, and would therefore have been at least 91 when filming EEAaO, he must be the oldest actor that I have featured in these vignettes. Forty years is also one of the longest gaps between appearances. His cinema career started in 1956.

This is the last of these posts about Oscar-winning films, so I’m also going to salute the other two leads who won Oscars, both of whom I know from other films of long ago. Jamie Lee Curtis is the tax official Deirdre Beaubeirdre here, totally inhabiting the character, and of course was in A Fish Called Wanda back in 1988.

And Ke Huy Quan, playing Michelle Yeoh’s character’s husband Waymond Wang here, was Short Round in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom back in 1984, when he was twelve.

Young F, who is now a wage-earner, bought a Blu-Ray player for our household as a Christmas present, and I went out and bought EEAaO as the first thing to watch on it. (Nineteen years ago, we bought our first DVD player and watched Finding Nemo with F, then aged five, and Casablanca after he had gone to bed.) Of course, it was a Belgian DVD so we had the slight cognitive dissonance of the original soundtrack, in English, Mandarin and Cantonese, and our choice of Dutch or French subtitles, but no option for English subtitles. We opted for Dutch, which is the language of F’s education (and to be honest I’m also a bit more comfortable in it than in French). But we therefore didn’t see quite the same film that you may have done.

Opinnion is firmly mixed on EEAaO, but F and I loved it. It combines the domestic comedy of the central character getting to grips with her failing marriage, her overbearing elderly father, and her relationship with her lesbian daughter, with the revelation that she is one of a number of parallel Evelyns across the spectrum of multiverses, fighting the forces of evil incarnate in a being who looks just like her daughter. This Bilbo-like shift between the domestic and the fantastic is elegantly and eloquently done. Michelle Yeoh in particular conveys the many different aspects of Evelyn well, the action sequences are superb, the special effects are convincing and the music backs up the on-screen performances without intruding.

I think that part of what makes the film work is that it is perhaps a psychological parable too. Like all of us, Evelyn contains multitudes, of which she is not necessarily aware at the start of the story. By the end, she has integrated all of her selves and achieved wholeness, and learned also to accept difference in her family; as well as defeating the forces of cosmic evil. What more could you ask for at Chinese New Year?

I’m ranking it 18th out of 95 Oscar winners, just above 20% of the way down, after that somewhat different domestic drama Terms of Endearment and ahead of that other tale of psychological integration and disintegration, Midnight Cowboy. Stand by for a review of the whole concept of watching the Oscar winners in sequence.

I’m also ranking it 18th, this time out of 65, in my list of winners of the Hugo / Nebula / Bradbury awards, just below the vivid action-filled A Clockwork Orange and above the universe-crossing Pan’s Labyrinth. It’s a stronger field. I may also do a post linking the Hugo / Nebula / Bradbury winners over the years.

But in the meantime, thank you for bearing with me through this series of posts, which I started in September 2017, when the world was a very different place.

Winners of the Oscar for Best Picture

1920s: Wings (1927-28) | The Broadway Melody (1928-29)
1930s: All Quiet on the Western Front (1929-30) | Cimarron (1930-31) | Grand Hotel (1931-32) | Cavalcade (1932-33) | It Happened One Night (1934) | Mutiny on the Bounty (1935, and books) | The Great Ziegfeld (1936) | The Life of Emile Zola (1937) | You Can’t Take It with You (1938) | Gone with the Wind (1939, and book)
1940s: Rebecca (1940) | How Green Was My Valley (1941) | Mrs. Miniver (1942) | Casablanca (1943) | Going My Way (1944) | The Lost Weekend (1945) | The Best Years of Our Lives (1946) | Gentleman’s Agreement (1947) | Hamlet (1948) | All the King’s Men (1949)
1950s: All About Eve (1950) | An American in Paris (1951) | The Greatest Show on Earth (1952) | From Here to Eternity (1953) | On The Waterfront (1954, and book) | Marty (1955) | Around the World in 80 Days (1956) | The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) | Gigi (1958) | Ben-Hur (1959)
1960s: The Apartment (1960) | West Side Story (1961) | Lawrence of Arabia (1962) | Tom Jones (1963) | My Fair Lady (1964) | The Sound of Music (1965) | A Man for All Seasons (1966) | In the Heat of the Night (1967) | Oliver! (1968) | Midnight Cowboy (1969)
1970s: Patton (1970) | The French Connection (1971) | The Godfather (1972) | The Sting (1973) | The Godfather, Part II (1974) | One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975) | Rocky (1976) | Annie Hall (1977) | The Deer Hunter (1978) | Kramer vs. Kramer (1979)
1980s: Ordinary People (1980) | Chariots of Fire (1981) | Gandhi (1982) | Terms of Endearment (1983) | Amadeus (1984) | Out of Africa (1985) | Platoon (1986) | The Last Emperor (1987) | Rain Man (1988) | Driving Miss Daisy (1989)
1990s: Dances With Wolves (1990) | The Silence of the Lambs (1991) | Unforgiven (1992) | Schindler’s List (1993) | Forrest Gump (1994) | Braveheart (1995) | The English Patient (1996) | Titanic (1997) | Shakespeare in Love (1998) | American Beauty (1999)
21st century: Gladiator (2000) | A Beautiful Mind (2001) | Chicago (2002) | The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003) | Million Dollar Baby (2004, and book) | Crash (2005) | The Departed (2006) | No Country for Old Men (2007) | Slumdog Millionaire (2008) | The Hurt Locker (2009)
2010s: The King’s Speech (2010) | The Artist (2011) | Argo (2012) | 12 Years a Slave (2013) | Birdman (2014) | Spotlight (2015) | Moonlight (2016) | The Shape of Water (2017) | Green Book (2018) | Parasite (2019)
2020s: Nomadland (2020) | CODA (2021) | Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022)

Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Frank lived in a glass tower on the south edge of the city, overlooking the lake. Jeevan left the park and waited awhile on the sidewalk, jumping up and down for warmth, boarded a streetcar that floated like a ship out of the night and leaned his forehead on the window as it inched along Carlton Street, back the way he had come. The storm was almost a whiteout now, the streetcar moving at a walking pace. His hands ached from compressing Arthur’s unwilling heart. The sadness of it, memories of photographing Arthur in Hollywood all those years ago. He was thinking of the little girl, Kirsten Raymonde, bright in her stage makeup; the cardiologist kneeling in his gray suit; the lines of Arthur’s face, his last words—“The wren …”—and this made him think of birds, Frank with his binoculars the few times they’d been bird-watching together, Laura’s favorite summer dress which was blue with a storm of yellow parrots, Laura, what would become of them? It was still possible that he might go home later, or that at any moment she might call and apologize. He was almost back where he’d started now, the theater closed up and darkened a few blocks to the south. The streetcar stopped just short of Yonge Street, and he saw that a car had spun out in the middle of the tracks, three people pushing while its tires spun in the snow. His phone vibrated again in his pocket, but this time it wasn’t Laura.

This was the winner of the Arthur C. Clarke Award in 2015, my first year as a judge (my second year was this year). We had considered, but not shortlisted, the winners of the Tiptree Award (The Girl in the Road and My Real Children), the BSFA Award (Ancillary Sword) and the Nebula Award (Annihilation) but not the Hugo (The Three-Body Problem). The other shortlisted books were The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August, by Claire North; Memory of Water, by Emmi Itälanta; The Girl With All The Gifts, by M.R. Carey; The Book of Strange New Things, by Michel Faber; and Europe in Autumn, by Dave Hutchinson. I liked them all, but I liked Station Eleven best.

The Clarke vow of secrecy means that I can’t say anything about the judging process, but I can, I think, share what I wrote to the other judges after first reading it. I said:

I thought this was very good – loyal to numerous post-disaster predecessors (definite Earth Abides, possibly After London, nods also to Heinlein I think) but cooking something new and very effective from the old ingredients.

I stand by that. I found it a very fresh read now, with a couple of interesting plot lines played out against a generally horrible and fascinating background, and a close examination of how the end of the world might affect you. It’s a grim story, of course, with lots of death, but it really keeps you reading, and I feel that we got it right. I still like it more than any of the other award winners of that year.

Of course the Station Eleven I read in 2015 is not the Station Eleven you will read in 2023 or 2024. It has been turned into a pretty successful TV series (which I haven’t seen), which means that the popular culture perception of the story is now on the screen rather than on the page. But rather more importantly, we have all now lived through a global pandemic, which was not quite as devastating as the one portrayed in Station Eleven, though this was not immediately apparent in March and April 2020.

I think that Station Eleven survived the pandemic better than Connie Willis’ Doomsday Book. Sometimes sf tells us about the future; more often about the present; and sometimes about the past, Station Eleven now does all three, in a way that it didn’t on first publication. You can get it here.

Invasion of the Dinosaurs, by Jon Arnold (and Malcolm Hulke)

When I first watched Invasion of the Dinosaurs in 2007, I wrote:

Notoriously, the first episode of Invasion of the Dinosaurs exists only in black and white, while the other five are in colour (it would all have been in colour when shown in January/February 1974). Also notoriously, the actual dinosaurs themselves are absolutely terrible as special effects. There are no two ways about it: they are embarrassing puppets pasted onto their scenes by unconvincing CSO.

If you can ignore the awfulness of the dinosaurs, it’s not such a bad story; like many Pertwee tales, it is a bit too long, but the two basic bits of plot – conspiracy at the highest levels of government to Take Over/Destroy England, and the people who think they are on a spaceship to colonise the nearest star – are both rather good and well enough worked out, with their motives a bit of a reprise of The Green Death but with the environmentalists now the bad guys. The cliff-hanger where Sarah is told that she’s been in space for three months, and the scene where she proves she isn’t by walking out of the airlock, are both real jewels.

The main plot twist involving the regular cast, however, is a slightly different matter. Captain Yates, the Brigadier’s deputy since Terror of the Autons, turns out to be in league with the bad guys, yet can’t quite bring himself to do the Doctor harm. The scene where we discover his betrayal is handled with no dramatic tension whatever, and his motivations are not really explored at all. The Brigadier and Benton get all the good lines, but there’s interesting narrative tension among the villains as well.

If it hadn’t been for the dinosaurs, this would probably be remembered as one of the great Pertwee stories despite the not-quite-connected plot. As it is, you just have to close your eyes when they are on-screen; but it’s still way ahead of, say, The Mutants. (I wonder if an audio version of this, with linking narrative by Elisabeth Sladen or Nicholas Courtney, might work a bit better?)

When I came back to it for my Great Rewatch in 2010, I wrote:

Invasion of the Dinosaurs was Malcolm Hulke’s last story for Doctor Who, and it must be said that with the rather central exception of the dinosaurs it is rather good. It is a shame about the dinosaurs, especially the tyrannosaurus / brontosaurus fight in episode 6 which is a real low point. The assembly of talent among the guest cast is excellent – Martin Jarvis, Peter Miles, Carmen Silvera, John Bennett, Noel Johnson, all had been on Who before and/or would be again, and all take it seriously (I guess they couldn’t see the dinosaurs for the most part).

Hulke takes it seriously too; his sympathies are of course with the New Earth folks, but his message is one of working for revolution and change within the system. Mike Yates’ treachery is the most interesting thing that has been done with a regular character since Katarina and Sara were killed off. It’s a shame that Richard Franklin never quite rises to the challenge, but it twists Hulke’s narrative from being a relatively safe tale of rooting out the dodgy bits of the establishment to a nasty one where your own household may turn against you.

Sarah and the Doctor are awfully cuddly now, especially in their exchange about Florana at the end! NB that this is the second story in a row about bad guys using time travel to transport their innocent pawns between different periods of Earth history.

All the above points occurred to me again as I rewatched it this time. I would also add that the London setting is used effectively, especially in the devastated and empty street scenes of the first couple of episodes, and the sense of enclosure and subterfuge in the Minister’s office later on. (Though the starship passengers look like real idiots for not smelling a rat sooner.) And Elisabeth Sladen is on particularly good form.

I knew Hulke’s novelisation (of his own script) well as a kid. The second paragraph of the third chapter is:

‘The signal’s very faint, sir.’ The radio operator turned up the volume control on his console to ‘full’. ‘It’s no good, sir. They’ve faded out altogether.’

When I reread it in 2008 I wrote:

I am not sure if this is the best of this run of novels (and I’m certain it’s not the best of the Season 11 novels, as Doctor Who and the Planet of the Spiders clearly takes that trophy) but it is certainly the most interesting. As commenters to my last entry noted, it starts with a lovely vignette of a Scot in London for the football who becomes a victim of the dinosaurs; there are other little bits of depth added as well, Professor Whitaker becoming very camp, and a couple of odd extra details – the Doctor is described as having “a mop of curly hair” (shurely shome mishtake?) and he talks about the Mary Celeste again as he did in Doctor Who and the Sea Devils. Also, of course, the book loses the appalling visual effects of the original programme – these dinosaurs are flesh and blood, not rubber!

Yet at the same time it is a bit too over-earnest, not quite as mature as Hulke’s better novels (Doctor Who and the Cave Monsters and Doctor Who and the Green Death), so it doesn’t quite get its fourth star from me.

It is interesting that both this and the previous story are about the bad guys shunting people (and in this case dinosaurs) between the present and the past.

The viewpoint character in the opening chapter is from Glasgow, a point I missed when compiling my list of mentions of the city in Doctor Who last month. One other detail added by Hulke for the novelisation is that Butler, the character played by Martin Jarvis, has a large facial scar, and is also made more complex, doubting the wisdom of the grand plan at an earlier stage. You can get it here.

Jon Arnold, who has previously delivered solid analysis of Rose, Scream of the Shalka and The Eleventh Hour in the Black Archive series, has delivered another decent and readable piece of work here.

A short introduction reflects on the context of the story, with the end of the Pertwee era coinciding with unusual political instability in the UK.

The first chapter, “London Falling”, looks at the way in which London has been portrayed in Doctor Who overall, especially in this story.

The second chapter, “The Politics of the Dinosaurs”. looks in detail at the political disarray of early 1970s Britain and its reflections in Doctor Who.

The third chapter, “The Golden Age”, looks at similar iterations of the Golden Age narrative, including the 2005 reality TV show Space Cadets and Douglas Adams’ Golgafrinchams. The second paragraph, with quote and footnotes, is:

The earliest known mention of a golden age occurs in Hesiod’s poem Works and Days (c700 BCE). In this poem, the author outlined his five Ages of Man: the golden age, the silver age, the bronze age, the heroic age and the iron age, with the last of these being Hesiod’s own time4. The names of Hesiod’s ages are derived from the materials from which he believed Zeus constructed humanity (with the heroic age being one of demigods, perhaps an early indication that Hesiod’s metaphor did not quite cover the scheme of society he wished to use – an early example of golden ages being a let-down). The conception of the golden age as an idealised lost nirvana is clear from his description:

“The race of men that the immortals who dwell on Olympus made first of all was of gold […] they lived like gods, with carefree heart, remote from toil and misery. Wretched old age did not affect them either, but with hands and feet ever unchanged they enjoyed themselves in feasting, beyond all ills, and they died as if overcome by sleep. All good things were theirs, and the grain-giving soil bore its fruits of its own accord in unstinted plenty, while they at their leisure harvested their fields in contentment amid abundance.’5

4 Believed to be around the last third of the eighth century BCE. West, ML, ed, Hesiod, Theogony and Works and Days, p10.
5 Hesiod, Works and Days, p87.

The fourth and longest chapter, “The Immortal Hulke”, looks at the career and beliefs of Malcolm Hulke, who of course was a Communist at one point in his life and also left a legacy of writing about television. It does not explain Hulke’s obsession with reptiles.

The first of three appendices, “20 Years Before Jurassic Park“, makes a case that the dinosaurs are not really all that awful by 1970s standards. It’s difficult to make this a very strong case, hwoever.

The second appendix, “KKLAK!”, looks in detail at the changes Hulke made to the story when adapting it as a novel.

The third appendix, “‘Ullo Jon! Got a New Motor?'” looks at the origin and fate of the Whomobile.

I would have liked to read some analysis of one more topic – the treachery of Mike Yates, which is briefly referred to in passing, but which as I said earlier was the most interesting thing that has been done with a regular character since Katarina and Sara were killed off eight years earlier.

Apart from that, it’s generally a satisfactory and sympathetic piece of work, looking at a flawed but fondly remembered story and explaining where it came from. Normally I like to get a bit more of the behind-the-scenes gossip, but I’m happy with what we get here.

Anyway, you can get it here.

The Black Archives
1st Doctor: The Edge of Destruction (67) | Marco Polo (18) | The Myth Makers (65) | The Dalek Invasion of Earth (30) | The Romans (32) | The Massacre (2)
2nd Doctor: The Underwater Menace (40) | The Evil of the Daleks (11) | The Mind Robber (7)
3rd Doctor: Doctor Who and the Silurians (39) | The Ambassadors of Death (3) | The Dæmons (26) | Carnival of Monsters (16) | The Time Warrior (24) | Invasion of the Dinosaurs (55)
4th Doctor: Pyramids of Mars (12) | The Hand of Fear (53) | The Deadly Assassin (45) | The Face of Evil (27) | The Robots of Death (43) | Talons of Weng-Chiang (58) | Horror of Fang Rock (33) | Image of the Fendahl (5) | The Sun Makers (60) | The Stones of Blood (47) | Full Circle (15) | Warriors’ Gate (31)
5th Doctor: Kinda (62) | Black Orchid (8) | Earthshock (51) | The Awakening (46)
6th Doctor: Vengeance on Varos (41) | Timelash (35) | The Ultimate Foe (14)
7th Doctor: Paradise Towers (61) | The Greatest Show in the Galaxy (66) | Battlefield (34) | The Curse of Fenric (23) | Ghost Light (6)
8th Doctor: The Movie (25) | The Night of the Doctor (49)
Other Doctor: Scream of the Shalka (10)
9th Doctor: Rose (1) | Dalek (54)
10th Doctor: The Impossible Planet / The Satan Pit (17) | Love & Monsters (28) | Human Nature / The Family of Blood (13) | The Sound of Drums / Last of the Time Lords (38)
11th Doctor: The Eleventh Hour (19) | Vincent and the Doctor (57) | The Pandorica Opens / The Big Bang (44) | The Impossible Astronaut / Day of the Moon (29) | The God Complex (9) | The Rings of Akhaten (42) | Day of the Doctor (50)
12th Doctor: Listen (36) | Kill the Moon (59) | The Girl Who Died (64) | Dark Water / Death in Heaven (4) | Face the Raven (20) | Heaven Sent (21) | Hell Bent (22)
13th Doctor: Arachnids in the UK (48) | Kerblam! (37) | The Battle of Ranskoor av Kolos (52) | The Haunting of Villa Diodati (56) | Flux (63)

Recollections of Virginia Woolf by her Contemporaries, edited by Joan Russell Noble

Second paragraph of third sontribution (from John Lehmann):

By that time the Press, though comparatively small and run on the simplest lines, had become a successful and well-known publishing centre. It had four extremely valuable advantages. It had always published Virginia Woolf’s works since the First World War, but after the success of Orlando in 1928 Virginia was no longer a highly thought of experimental novelist of limited appeal, but a best-seller. Her friend Vita Sackville-West – Mrs Harold Nicolson – had had several books of travel published by the Press, but in 1930 she had produced a novel called The Edwardians, which had one of the greatest successes in the history of the Press. The third advantage it had was the International Psycho- Analytical Library, which included the works of Sigmund Freud. At the suggestion of Lytton Strachey’s brother James, a keen student of psychoanalysis, Leonard, with great shrewdness, and against the advice of some distinguished old hands in the publishing world, had taken on the English-speaking rights of the Library in the early ‘twenties. It flourished exceedingly. The fourth advantage was, of course, Leonard and Virginia’s own names as leaders of what was known as the Bloomsbury Group. Among intellectuals it was a much coveted prize to be accepted for publication by the Hogarth Press. It had begun its work in the tiniest way possible in 1917, and by the end of 1919 had published only five books; but one of them was T. S. Eliot’s Poems, another was Virginia’s own first experimental attempt, Kew Gardens, and a third was Katherine Mansfield’s Prelude. Two of them had been printed and bound by Leonard and Virginia themselves.

First published in 1972, thirty years after her death, this pulls together 27 short sketches of Virginia Woolf by friends, relatives and colleagues, some previously published and some new contributions. It provoked me to think how little we can really know of anyone; each of these people saw a slightly different side of her, often through a mutual involvement with the Hogarth Press, and there is much less about her inner life than you would get, for instance, in Hermione Lee’s biography. We get the same anecdotes told from different perspectives; we get different takes on her behaviour and attitudes; we get a sense of someone who was loved by many but not really understood by anyone. I particularly noticed the varying accounts of her interactions with children and younger women; she was capable of showing immense sympathetic curiosity, but also of brutal rudeness. I suppose most of us are like that.

A couple of these pieces are surprisingly weak – Rebecca West admits that she didn’t really know her very well, and T.S. Eliot writes a short encomium which actually has very little content. But most of them are interesting and rewarding. One of the longest and most interesting is by William Plomer, who I confess I had not heard of but whose books I will now look out for. There’s also a moving contribution by Louie Mayer, the Woolfs’ housekeeper who was probably the last person to speak to her before her death. I think even if you’re not a big fan of Woolf’s writing, it’s a very interesting exercise to get a couple of dozen different personal perspectives on their memories of a particular individual; and if you are a fan of Woolf’s writing, it certainly adds to the appreciation of her work. You can get it here.

This was my top unread book acquired in 2017. Next on that pile is Bee Quest, by Dave Goulson.

The Fourteenth Doctor novelisations: The Star Beast (Gary Russell), Wild Blue Yonder (Mark Morris), The Giggle (James Goss)

You wait five years for a new Doctor, and then two of them come along one after the other…

While we recover from the Fifteenth Doctor’s proper debut yesterday, you can relive the Fourteenth Doctor’s brief tenure in the three novelisations of his three stories, The Star Beast, Wild Blue Yonder and The Giggle, each published electronically a few days after the respective episodes were shown, and available in paper form next month. Spoilers: One of them is likely to be my Doctor Who book of the year when I do my roundup of my 2023 reading on Sunday. I’ve also had a listen to a relevant Big Finish audio adaptation.

Doctor Who: The Star Beast is Gary Russell’s second novelisation of a Doctor Who TV story, his first being of the TV Movie from 1996, 27 years ago. (He also did four Sarah Jane novelisations, and much else.) The second paragraph of the third chapter is:

Best thing to do, Doctor, he thought, is not get caught.

This is a good start to the new regime. (One of my personal complaints about the Chibnall era is that little attention was paid to the spinoff publications.) As well as faithfully transferring the on-screen action to the page, we get more characterisation for the minor characters, especially Sylvia and Rose, and some delightful tips of the hat to the comic strip on which the story was based – the steelworks is called Millson Wagner, in a tribute to the original writers, and the original new companion, Sharon, makes an offstage appearance as Fudge’s friend. Basically it’s what you want from a novelisation. You can get it here.

The Fourteenth Doctor TV story was not in fact the first adaptation of the original Star Beast comic. In 2019 Big Finish released audio versions of this and The Iron Legion, the first of the Doctor Who magazine strips, both starring Tom Baker as the Fourth Doctor, and for completeness I listened to both. They are quite long; The Iron Legion is almost two hours, The Star Beast 1h49m, and then there’s an hour of behind-the-scenes, and the material isn’t quite strong enough to bear the weight of it. But it is fun enough, a look at two old stories from a new angle, with some tidying up of loose ends in the plots.

NB in particular from The Iron Legion, Christine Kavanagh (who had a small part in The Diplomat) as June / Magog, the lead baddy, and Big Finish regulars Toby Longworth and Joseph Kloska as the robot Vesuvius and Morris; and from The Star Beast, Rhianne Starbuck as Sharon (she seems to have paused her acting career, which is a shame), Bethan Dixon Bate as Beep the Meep, and in a surprise twist, 1970s news reader Angela Rippon as herself. You can get it here.

The novelisation of Wild Blue Yonder is by Marc Morris, who has done a bunch of other Doctor Who books and plays, some of which I liked more than others. The second paragraph of the third chapter (“Brate”) is:

There was no indication anything had been disturbed. The hover-buggy remained where they’d parked it; nothing had fallen over; nothing had become detached from the walls or roof and crashed to the ground.

Wild Blue Yonder was such a visual story, depending both on superb special effects and on twists in the plot, that the book version needs to be either a faithful screen-to-page adaptation or to take a completely different approach. Morris has (perhaps sensibly) gone for the first option, and the result is a workmanlike book that completists like me will want to have, but won’t be a gateway drug for anyone else. You can get it here.

It’s no secret that I rate James Goss as one of the best Doctor Who writers currently in business (eg here, here and here), so I awaited his novelisation of The Giggle with eager anticipation. The second paragraph of the third chapter (“Move 3”) is:

London burned. Flames poked out of windows. People stood on roofs, howling. Cars smashed into each other over and over. Double-decker buses lay toppled in the streets, people thronged the bridges, sometimes diving off, sometimes falling off, sometimes pushed off. She watched two boats down there in the Thames, playing a slow and stupid game of chicken. Neither boat blinked.

I have to say that my high expectations were more than exceeded. Goss tells the story from the perspective of the Toymaker (first-person Doctor Who books are very rare and not always successful), smooths off the edges, throws in some extra pinches of emotion and also some shifts of genre and format – at one point the book becomes a choose-your-own-adventure for Donna, and there are other puzzles throughout. I suspect that the paper version will be even nicer and it’s the only one of the three that I plan to get in hard copy. It’s a real tour de force, and you can get it here. I enjoyed this so much that I made it my very first post on Threads:

Post by @nwbrux
View on Threads

So, a good closing out of the brief Fourteenth Doctor era. (Though I haven’t yet read the DWM comic strip.)

The Church on Ruby Road

I might just squee for a bit, rather non-verbally, but basically once again I loved this. The grownups are back in charge. Gatwa and Gibson are a great pair. The alternate timeline gimmick has been done much worse and more didactically in Who,and elsewhere. Not totally wild about the goblins, but again we have had much worse. And I don’t think we’ve ever had the Doctor actually singing on TV? And what of Anita Dobson’s Mrs Flood – does she really not know the TARDIS at the start, or is she just making that up – have the events of the story changed her, or has she just changed her story?

Seriously though, I took an interest in the plotline about DNA testing, not least because I myself was once able to identify a foundling’s parents through DNA connections (mother then father). For any white person of British and/or Irish descent, there will be loads of connections in the various databases, perhaps not close ones, but they will be there. So we deduce that there’s something very odd about Ruby’s background. But then, the days of relatively normal backgrounds for Doctor Who companions have come and gone, I think.

Weekly reading blog

Current
Marking Time, by Elizabeth Jane Howard
Bee Quest, by Dave Goulson
The New Machiavelli, by H. G. Wells
Lunar Descent, by Allen Steele

Last books finished
Into the Unknown, ed. Laura Clarke
The Haunting of Villa Diodati, by Philip Purser-Hallard
A Long Day in Lychford, by Paul Cornell

Next books
iLobby.eu, by Caroline De Cock
Our Share of Night, by Mariana Enriquez
Fevered Star, by Rebecca Roanhorse

Top blog posts of 2023 (and some social media)

In past years I’ve done a roundup of my best performing posts on social media and on my blog. This year I’m skipping almost all of my social media analysis, because Twitter/X’s analytics are broken (a real shame after years of providing interesting information, but it’s in catastrophic decline anyway) and Facebook seems also to have made it much more difficult to scrape useful data off the system. There seems to be no analytical capability for Bluesky at all, and I’ve not been on Threads for long enough for it to count. Thanks to MastoMetrics, I can give you my most liked post on Mastodon of the year:

And my most boosted post on Mastodon:

Instagram also tells me my most liked post there:

And LinkedIn, where I could be more active perhaps, also tells me which post has gained the most impressions:

But what you lose on the swings, you may gain on the roundabouts, and WordPress has given me a very good summary of the performance of my blog posts here over the last year. These are the top ten.

10) William Wordsworth, Annette Vallon and their daughter Caroline

Even though most of this blog consists of book reviews, this is the only book review in the top ten. Published in April, it had a surge of interest from August on, with a peak in mid-November. I assumer that someone put it on a university curriculum reading list, and it was then picked up by Wordsworth fans.

9) Social media in the age of Mastodon and Bluesky

This was my response to a friend’s query about social media after the decline of Twitter. He linked it from his blog, and we both linked to it from LinkedIn, which made a big difference. My top LinkedIn post of the year was my link to his blog post about it, probably because I tagged the other people mentioned.

8) 2023 Hugos: Best Series – why I voted No Award

One of several Hugo / WorldCon posts in the top ten, this got some traction among people who care about this sort of thing. NB that the vote for “No Award” in the Best Series category this year was higher by far than for any other.

7) The Oberkassel puppy

One of my own favourite posts from this year, published in early January. I boosted it on social media and it resonated for some people.

6) Chengdu Worldcon 1: Doctor Who in China

5) Chengdu Worldcon 4: The people you meet along the way

I think that both of these posts were boosted in China in places I can’t see, as well as by Westerners wanting to see what had happened at WorldCon. My two other WorldCon posts were both in the top twenty.

4) The 2023 WSFS Business Meeting

My analysis of the resolutions up for a vote at the WSFS Business Meeting in Chengdu. As it turned out I did not attend much of the proceedings myself, but this may have been the only detailed look at the agenda pre-meeting that was widely available.

3) Gallifrey One 2023

After some reflection, I boosted this on LinkedIn as well as the usual sources, and got a lot more views as a result. My link to it was my second-best performing LinkedIn post of the year. Also, cute pictures.

2) Hugo 2023 ballot – a couple of thoughts

At a point when some really outrageous things were being said about the 2023 Hugo ballot, this was my attempt to inject some sanity into the process. I suspect that the article was widely shared on Discords etc that I am not in.

1) What to expect in 2023, according to science fiction

Literally my first post of the year, with 600 views, 530 of them in January. Also featured on File 770, and maybe elsewhere. Somehow I caught the Zeitgeist. Will try and do another for Monday week.

So, I’ve learned two things from this. First, even though I put most effort into the book reviews here, it’s not what my public are especially reading. That doesn’t matter hugely, because in the end the primary target readership for my book reviews archive is myself in future years. Second, LinkedIn makes a heck of a difference. I posted very few of the above to LinkedIn – Gallifrey at #3 and social media at #9 – but it’s noticeable that substantial commentary pieces there do resonate, so I will be trying to cross-post there more often next year.

Giants at the End of the World: A Showcase of Finnish Weird, eds. Johanna Sinisalo and Toni Jerrman

Second paragraph of third story (“Snowfall” by Tiina Raevaara):

Kohotan katseeni. Aurinko on ehtinyt täyteen kirkkau-teensa, jäiset puut kimaltelevat. Talon takana metsästä työn-tyvä kallio kiiltelee huurteisena sekin. Kallion takia kuk-kapenkeissä on turha yrittää kasvattaa mitään: kesällä se piilottaa auringon taaksensa, heittää pihalle valtavan varjon. Nyt maa on jo jäässä.I look up. The sun has reached its full brightness, the icy trees are glittering. The rock pushing out from the forest behind the house is also glimmering with frost. Because of this rock, it’s useless to try to grow anything in the flowerbeds: in the summer it hides the sun behind it and throws a huge shadow into the garden. Now the ground is frozen already.
Translated by Sara Norja

This was given as a freebie to all attenders of Worldcon 75 in Helsinki back in 2017, to boost the visibility of Finnish writers among attendees. To be honest the stories are skewed a little more towards horror than is my usual taste, but I really enjoyed the first one, “The Haunted House on Rockville Street” by Pasi Ilmari Jääskeläinen, and one in the very middle, “The Bearer of the Bone Harp”, by Emmi Itäranta. You can read it on the Internet Archive.

This was both the shortest unread book that I had acquired in 2017, and the sf book that had lingered longest unread on my shelves. Next on those piles respectively are Recollections of Virginia Woolf by her Contemporaries, ed. Joan Noble Russell, and Attack on Thebes by M.D. Cooper.

Facing Fate: The Good Companion, by Nick Abadzis et al

Second frame from third part:

The culmination of the series of IDW Tenth Doctor comic albums that I’ve been reading since March, here all the various companion plotlines come together and there is a very satisfactory ending to the character arc for Gabby Gonzalez, the comics-only companion from New York. Really this whole series deserves the same recognition that the early DWM strips have; it’s beautifully done. It was especially evocative to read it at the same time as the Doctor / Donna story unfolded on TV. You can get it here.

This was the first book that I finished reading in December, so I’m three weeks off more or less. This gap will probably only widen over the break!

The Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka

Second paragraph of third section:

Und wenn nun auch Gregor durch seine Wunde an Beweglichkeit wahrscheinlich für immer verloren hatte und vorläufig zur Durchquerung seines Zimmers wie ein alter Invalide lange, lange Minuten brauchte – an das Kriechen in der Höhe war nicht zu denken –, so bekam er für diese Verschlimmerung seines Zustandes einen seiner Meinung nach vollständig genügenden Ersatz dadurch, daß immer gegen Abend die Wohnzimmertür, die er schon ein bis zwei Stunden vorher scharf zu beobachten pflegte, geöffnet wurde, so daß er, im Dunkel seines Zimmers liegend, vom Wohnzimmer aus unsichtbar, die ganze Familie beim beleuchteten Tische sehen und ihre Reden, gewissermaßen mit allgemeiner Erlaubnis, also ganz anders als früher, anhören durfte.Because of his injuries, Gregor had lost much of his mobility—probably permanently. He had been reduced to the condition of an ancient invalid and it took him long, long minutes to crawl across his room—crawling over the ceiling was out of the question—but this deterioration in his condition was fully (in his opinion) made up for by the door to the living room being left open every evening. He got into the habit of closely watching it for one or two hours before it was opened and then, lying in the darkness of his room where he could not be seen from the living room, he could watch the family in the light of the dinner table and listen to their conversation—with everyone’s permission, in a way, and thus quite differently from before.

Well known, fascinating and awful; the story of a man who ceases to be a man, who finds that humanity, including his close family, collectively turns its back on him. Does his transformation represent disability? Sexual identity? Mental illness? Something else entirely? It doesn’t matter in a way; the writing is mesmerising.

It’s also thoroughly infused with a spirit of place. Kafka comprehensively conveys the feeling of those central European apartment blocks which you will find in Prague, Vienna, Budapest, Bratislava, Zagreb, Ljubljana, and dozens if not hundreds of other towns and cities throughout the former Habsburg Empire. And you really feel that you are in the city, with its trams, bureaucracy and social structure.

It’s a short story, but it packs a heck of a punch.

This was the top book by LibraryThing populatiry on my shelves that I had not yet blogged here. Next on that list is Doctor Zhivago, by Boris Pasternak.

Many Grains of Sand, by Liz Castro

Second paragraph of third chapter:

AMI is a cross-party organisation that grew out of three initiatives: the group of city governments which passed motions declaring themselves “morally excluded” from the Spanish Constitution to express theirc omplete frustration with the Constitutional Court ruling against the Catalan Statute of Autonomy on June 28, 2010, the popular “consultations” that were held in more than 500 municipalities between 2009 and 2011, ad the spirit of the demonstration of July 10, 2010 itself, which represented a broad swath of the population which supports the Catalan right to decide.

A beautifully illustrated book, given to me by the author, listing numerous campaign tactics used by the proponents of independence for Catalonia in the heady years from the 2006 Statute of Autonomy to the botched independence declaration in 2017. A lot of this is genuinely inspiring activism: the people who went to all 50 US state capitals to present their case to the governors; the human towers and works of permanent and less permanent art; the integration with sports.

A lot of this could in fact be copied elsewhere in a society with a reasonable amount of freedom of expression, though there’s not many places with both a strong independence movement and an open society. You can get it here.

The Catalan debate is moving onto another plane now, with the Spanish government attempting to draw a line under 2017 and move on, while being subjected to attempted sabotage by the Right both at home and abroad. My personal suspicion is that a fairly held official referendum on independence in Catalonia would deliver a majority for continued participation in the Spanish state, and would kill serious talk of independence for a generation. (If it had not been for Brexit, this would have been the medium-term outcome in Scotland.) Those who say that it’s against the law and the constitution need to remember that in the end, the law and the constitution are shaped by popular sentiment and not vice versa.

This was the non-fiction book that had lingered longest unread on my shelves. Next in that pile is Atlas of Irish History, by Ruth Dudley Edwards.

The Hidden Lives of Tudor Women: A Social History, by Elizabeth Norton

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Infancy was also the stage of experimentation and play, universal for children of all social classes, which could begin in earnest when the swaddling was finally removed. It was Cecily Burbage who was responsible for taking Princess Elizabeth out of her cradle to play,4 and it was she who, when Elizabeth was around a month old, released her hands from the swaddling bands, after which her arms were covered by loose little sleeves.5 This was the first freedom of movement Tudor babies enjoyed, allowing them to ‘use and stir’ their hands.
4 Harrison, op. cit., f34v.
5 Guillimeau, op. cit., p.22

An interesting look at the experience of half of the English people during the reigns of the five Tudor monarchs, going from top to bottom – linking the lives and deaths of princesses and queens to what is known of the rest of the population. The framework is around Shakespeare’s Seven Ages of Man, taken as applying to all of us, so from infancy to old age and the various options between.

There are some very good bits here; the chapters on crime and religion in particular are fertile ground for the imagination. It’s also interesting to learn of Katherine Fenkyll, a multiply married businesswoman in the City of London. As usual with this sort of book, sadly, the word “Ireland” is missing from the index, and there’s not even much about Wales. But it’s good to come at a well-known subject – life in Tudor England – from a different direction, and I certainly learned as much as I had hoped from it. You can get it here.

This was my top unread book acquired in 2018. Next on that pile is The Unsettled Dust by Robert Aickman.

Sunday reading

Current
Into the Unknown, ed. Laura Clarke
The Haunting of the Villa Diodati, by Philip Purser-Hallard
Marking Time, by Elizabeth Jane Howard

Last books finished
Doctor Who: Wild Blue Yonder, by Mark Morris
Invasion of the Dinosaurs, by Jon Arnold
Atlas of Irish History, by Ruth Dudley Edwards
Jaren van de olifant, by Willy Linthout
Doctor Who: The Giggle, by James Goss

Next books
The Ides of Octember A Pictorial Bibliography of Roger Zelazny, by Christopher S. Kovacs
A Long Day in Lychford, by Paul Cornell
The New Machiavelli, by H. G. Wells

2023 travels

I think it’s unlikely that I’ll spend any more nights away from home this year, so it’s probably safe to do the overnights meme. This year it’s 20 places in 9 countries, with those place where I spent non-consecutive nights marked with an asterisk.

*London, UK
Los Angeles, USA
The Hague, Netherlands
Geneva, Switzerland
Birmingham, UK
Kidderminster, UK
Cambridge, UK
Glasgow, UK
*Paris, France
St-Hilaire-sur-Helpe, France
Hoofddorp, Netherlands
Zagreb, Croatia
*Ferry between France and Ireland
*Loughbrickland, UK
Heathrow, UK
Beijing, China
Chengdu, China
Oslo, Norway
Natick, USA
Providence, USA

I am counting the overnight ferry, which I feel is in the spirit of the meme, though not four intercontinental overnight plane flights (two from the USA to Europe, two between Brussels and Beijing). Whether nineteen or twenty, it’s bang in the middle of the historical range since I started counting.

I also changed places in Germany and Denmark, and drove through the Republic of Ireland, and I live in Belgium, so my total country tally for the year is 13, the fourth lowest of the fourteen years that I have tracked, even though I added two new countries this year.

YearOvernightsCountries
20232012
20221514
202175
2020811
20192314
20182320
20172015
20162923
20152821
20141515
20131711
20121614
201111
201025
200914
20081716
20072417
200625
200521

Next year will be the twentieth that I have done this calculation.

Threads, Twitter, Mastodon, Bluesky, Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, WeChat, etc

Update from my previous thoughts:

Threads, the new platform offered by Meta as a rival to Twitter, is now open to these of us in the EU, so I have signed on. Slightly odd to find that I already had 199 followers from the get-go. Very disturbing that the default view on the iOs app is not the accounts you are following but those that the app selects “For You”, which had content that I’m not really in the habit of seeking out routinely. Anyway, I sorted that out, and it now seems much the same as the others to be honest.

So for now I’m going to largely post the same content across Threads, X/Twitter, Mastodon, Bluesky and sometimes Facebook. Photo-led content will go on Instagram and Facebook first and then probably on the others. Professionally relevant stuff goes on LinkedIn, which is becoming increasingly important as a marketplace of ideas.

Also, when I wake up in the morning I try to remember to post last night’s blog to WeChat, for my 98 followers there, most of whom are asleep by the time I post most of my content. (If you want to add me there, go ahead.)

In a few months I will reassess and see which of them I find worth the effort. To be honest, if I were to drop out of just one of them right now, it would be Mastodon. As previously noted, I can’t find the conversations there that I might like to be in, and in addition, the app on iOs is clunky – rather slow to show me my updated timeline, doesn’t like uploading photos, crashes far too often. Mastodon’s advocates will earnestly assure me that it has been designed that way for Reasons, or that I am just Doing It Wrong. They have a right to their own opinions, but I work the way I do for Reasons too.

Ancillary Sword, by Ann Leckie

Second paragraph of third chapter:

She arrived at my quarters still unsettled. The collar of her jacket was slightly askew—none of her Bos were awake to see to her, and she had dressed in nervous haste, dropping things, fumbling at fastenings that should have been simple. I met her standing, and I didn’t dismiss Kalr Five, who lingered, ostensibly busy but hoping to see or hear something interesting.

I wasn’t originally planning to re-read this, but then I thought since I was re-reading the Tiptree and Clarke winners from 2015 I should go and look again at the BSFA winner. I actually voted for it for both the BSFA and the Hugos, and wrote then:

I actually liked it more than the first book in the series; it’s self-contained and fuelled by righteous anger, forensically directed at planetary and sexual politics. It’s several months since I read it as one of the Clarke submissions, but I think I still like it best of the three. [The other two non-Puppy novels being The Goblin Emperor, by Katherine Addison [Sarah Monette], and The Three-Body Problem, by Cixin Liu, which of course won.]

Re-reading it this time, I found the first 20-30% slightly hard going with the density of description of a human society from a slightly non-human perspective; and then the book suddenly catches fire after an act of violence, and the narrator, an artificial intelligence incarnated into a human body, must navigate entrenched societal structures to reach something resembling justice without causing complete disintegration. It’s tremendously tightly done, and took my breath away once again while I was reading it. You can get it here.

There were eight novels on the BSFA Best Novel ballot that year, more than any other year except 2020. The others were Europe in Autumn by Dave Hutchinson and The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August, by Claire North, both of which we shortlisted for the Clarke Award; Cuckoo Song, by Frances Hardinge; Lagoon, by Nnedi Okorafor; The Moon King, by Neil Williamson; The Race, by Nina Allan; and Wolves, by Simon Ings. I stand by the decisions we made as the Clarke jury, but there were some very good novels out that year.

On to the Clarke winner, Station Eleven.

Under the Yoke, by Ivan Vazov

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Преди няколко години тая стара ограда се гордееше с исполински бор, който със своята рунтава шапка, дето пееха хиляди птичи гнезда, заслоняваше старовремската черкова. Но бурята катури бора, а игуменът – черковата и съгради нова. Сега тя, със своя висок, по новото зодчество издигнат купол, странно противоречи с осталите стари постройки, паметници на миналото, и даже грози като къс нова хартия, залепена на стар пергамент. Старата черкова и старият бор паднаха под ударите на съдбата и оттогава манастирът затъмня, не весели вече окото с гигантското дърво до облаците; не възвишават благочестиво душата зографисаните по стените образи на светци, архангели, преподобни отци н мъченици с изчовъркани очи от кърджалии и делибашии.Some years before, the old building had rejoiced in a gigantic pine-tree, which sheltered the church with its high- spreading branches—the home of a thousand feathered songsters. But a storm had uprooted the pine and the church tower, and a new tower, which had been erected in its place, with a lofty new-fashioned cupola, made a strange contrast to the dilapidated old remains of a past age: it gave one the same shock that is produced by a piece of fresh white paper stuck on a time-worn parchment. The old church and tower have fallen under the assaults of time and destiny, and henceforth the monastery has become sombre: the eye no longer follows the towering pine to the clouds: the soul no longer draws pious inspirations from the paintings on the walls representing saints, archangels, holy fathers, and martyrs, defiled and with their eyes put out by the Kirjalis and Delibashis.
translated by William Morfill

A classic of nineteenth-century Bulgarian literature, a mercifully short novel about the 1876 uprising against Turkish rule. I must admit that I was surprised by how well it reads, given that I have read any number of much worse-written books about Ireland (or England, or the United States) at the same period. Vazov’s revolutionaries, all men, are outnumbered, outgunned and fight valiantly to the end; his women are in fact also three-dimensional characters; you can’t really say the same for the Turks, and it’s a rather black and white novel, but still it’s a good and digestible insight into that particular part of Europe at that particular time. You can get it here.

This was the non-genre fiction book that had lingered longest unread on my shelves. Next on that pile is a collection of Three Plays by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart, but it will have to wait until I have read all the other unread books acquired in 2017.

Tomorrow will be Eleanor of Aquitaine’s 900th birthday

The most intellectually exciting thing I have ever done, or am ever likely to do in my career, was to discover the likely date of birth of Eleanor of Aquitaine. She was Duchess of Aquitaine in her own right from 1137 to 1204, Queen of France from 1137 to 1152, and then Queen of England from 1154 to 1189 having married and divorced Louis VII of France and then married and survived Henry II of England. She lived until 1 April 1204. Her children included King Richard I (“the Lionheart”) of England and his younger brother King John. The only contemporary image we have of her is from her tombstone; but in popular culture, the dominant image is Katharine Hepburn’s Oscar-winning portrayal of her in the 1968 film The Lion in Winter.

Doing my M Phil thesis in 1991, I was trying to get to grips with a medieval astrological text by one Roger of Hereford, Liber de arte astronomice iudicandi. It’s a hodge-podge of Arabic astrological lore translated into Latin, sometimes well, sometimes less well, and I had great fun identifying the sources that Roger had used. Various clues pointed to the date of writing as being the early to mid 1190s. But then I ran into a problem at the end. There is a worked example of a horoscope, giving precise positions for the planets at a particular time, and then an interpretation of what this horoscope means. It seems to be original text, not copied from other sources like most of the rest of the book. The details given are:

Sun29° Sagittarius
Moon15° Gemini
Venus15° Capricorn
Jupiter20° Cancer
Mars10° Gemini
Mercury20° Sagittarius
Saturn22° Leo
Ascendant15° Libra
Mid-heaven18° Cancer

Now, there is an immediate problem. There is no historical date that fits those planetary positions. But I think that the following assumptions about Roger’s working methods are not unreasonable:

1) The solar position is likely to be the most accurate. This is because the sun’s apparent motion was accurately known, even using the geocentric model in use in the middle ages. The sun passes through the same point of the ecliptic at roughly (to within a day) the same time every year. During the 12th century it passed through 29° Sagittarius on December 14. Roger would have known that the sun could only be at that position on that day.

2) Jupiter and Saturn, the slowest moving planets, will be the most useful for determining the year in question. In this case there is a problem; there is no good fit for Jupiter at 20° Cancer and Saturn at 22° Leo in the historical period. However, Saturn was at 22° Leo in late December 1123, and Jupiter at that time passed through 20° Gemini (next to Cancer) on December 9 and reached 19° Gemini on December 16. If “Cancer” could be a mistake for “Gemini” in the Jupiter position, the horoscope would be consistent for 14 December 1123.

3) Mars provides an extra element of confirmation, having passed through 10° Gemini on December 9 1123, which is close enough given that it’s more difficult to calculate. So we have close matches for Saturn and Mars, and Jupiter precisely one sign out, for 14 December 1123.

4) The positions of the inner planets for 14 December 1123 are wildly discrepant with the positions in our horoscope. However on 14 December 1122, Venus was at 21° Capricorn (having passed through 15° Capricorn on the 9th), Mercury at 14° Sagittarius (having passed through 20° Sagittarius on the 8th) and the Moon at midnight is at 21° Gemini, having passed through 15° Gemini about ten hours earlier.

5) We therefore have the three outer planets fitting 14 December 1123 within a degree of longitude (if the assumption about Jupiter being put in the right degree but the wrong sign is correct), the three inner planets fitting early December 1122 a bit less well, and the Sun fitting both dates.

So, why choose 1123 rather than 1122? It seems to me – having tried it for myself – that the inner planets are much more fiddly to calculate using the available methods, and it is more likely that Roger of Hereford read the wrong line from the algorithm in the more complex process. (Though in my story he got Jupiter wrong too).

One other interesting point is that the distance between Ascendant and Mid-Heaven is too small for this to be a horoscope cast for a British latitude at that time of day and that time of year. The Ascendant is the part of the Zodiac rising on the eastern horizon; the Mid-Heaven is the part of the Zodiac directly due south. The farther from the equator you go, the more the distance between them will vary. The numbers given are consistent with 44° North, with a leeway of about 6°, probably calculated using an astrolabe plate for 45° North. Roger is not know to have worked anywhere other than England, almost all of which is north of 50°.

So, let’s look at what this is supposed to mean. Roger says:

Primum considerarem domini ascendentis, et qui ipse ab angulo recte respicit ascendens. Ab eo inciperem. Primum inspicio a quo separatur. Separatur autem a sole qui est dominus 10m, et est in quarto. Scio igitur per he quod cogitat de aliqua re amata que per quartum signatur vel de patre vel de matre; sed quia luna separatur est a domino 7 qui est domus mulierum id est de matre. Quum vero est in domo vie quod de via mulieris est iuncta mercurio domino vie, in alia domo viarum. Et quum venus coniuncta est iovi in domo regis dico quod ad regem tendit cum ipse etiam sit in exaltatione sua. Sed quum est retrogradus et in oppositione veneris et venus in casu eius, rex non bene eam recipiet. Sed quum est fortuna etiam in exaltatione sua et in angulo celi liber a male postea exaudiet eam. Sed et luna que est recepta ideam signat et est de inimicis, quod virgo est signum humanum et quod est in humano signo, est dominus 12.

Roger’s interpretation of the horoscope that he has just cast is a bit confused and mumbo-jumbo-ish, but like any good soothsayer he starts off by predicting what he already knows to be true: that the inquiry is about a loved one, a parent, a woman, therefore a mother. Then things get interesting. He seems to be saying that this mother is travelling to meet a king, that the king will not give her a good reception, but will give her a hearing afterwards, and that there are enemies involved.

As I said, we know that the most likely date of composition of Roger’s text is in the early to mid 1190s. Why is he casting a horoscope for a date in 1122 or 1123? Who could be the mother going on a journey to meet a king, where she could expect a poor reception but could hope to prevail in the end? Could this be anything other than a horoscope cast for Eleanor of Aquitaine, or some other interested party, to assess the chances of her planned mission to ransom her son Richard I from German captivity in 1193-4, after she raised literally a king’s ransom from the English taxpayer?

It may seem a bit of a stretch, but it’s difficult to imagine another set of circumstances in which a woman (a mother, indeed) born in 1122 or 1123 would be going on a long journey to argue with a king in the 1190s. (If you want to check my working, my M Phil thesis is available in RTF format here. There’s a lot of it that I would write rather differently, thirty-two years on, but I stand by the main conclusion.)

Also, remember the Ascendant/Mid-Heaven calculation that was consistent with 44° North, with a leeway of about 6°? Eleanor was born in Poitiers, whose latitude is 46°35′ North. A lot of other places are in that range, of course. (Though we can probably rule out Minneapolis.)

Scholarly consensus leans more towards 1122 than 1123 for Eleanor’s birth, I must admit, and the case for reading the planetary positions as intended to represent 1122 rather than 1123 is strong. But the very earliest document has her aged 13 in the spring of 1137, when her father died and just before her first marriage, which would mean that she was born between mid 1123 and early 1124; and I’m inclined to believe that the closest report to the event is likely to be the most accurate. There is no document indicating her precise birthday.

So, all in all, I reckon that tomorrow is the 900th birthday of one of my favourite historical characters. Let’s raise a glass of Bordeaux to her. She’d have appreciated it.

I hope that I’ll get the chance to write this up properly some day, to proper rigorous academic standards. I fear it will be a retirement project, almost fifty years after I did the original research. But twelfth-century history is not a terribly fast-moving discipline.

One Foot in Laos, by Dervla Murphy

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Clouds of mosquitoes were tormenting the four passengers already aboard and I hastily applied repellent to my bare parts before passing the bottle around. But it is a fallacy that clothes protect one; soon this swarm was feasting off my thighs and buttocks. Happily Vientiane is not malarial, at least in winter; dengue fever, borne by a soundless daytime mosquito, is more of a hazard. It kills many children and ‘break-bone’ fever debilitates adults for weeks, causing agonising pain; there is neither a prophylactic nor a cure. Perhaps its worst symptom – certainly the most alarming, from the patient’s associates’ point of view – is psychological: dengue violence. A mild-mannered elderly expat told me that while fevered she hit her gardener over the head with a trowel. When she had fully recovered the young man suggested their going to the wat together, to sit in silence in front of the Lord Buddha and be reconciled. In our world, he’d have sued her.

The late great Irish travel writer Dervla Murphy, who I worked with briefly and at long distance back in 1991, travelled around Laos in late 1997 and early 1998, and produced one of her typically empathy-filled accounts of the country and its people, along with the difficulties of getting around on a bicycle. (The title of the book refers to the fact that she injured a foot quite early in the trip, which also hampered her mobility.) It becomes gradually clear that this is a society in deep trauma after the American bombed it to smithereens in an unreported sideshow to the Vietnam War. Murphy generally enjoys and learns from her interactions with the locals; other foreigners are a different matter (to her annoyance, she finds that a fellow passenger on a ferry boat has brought along a copy of one of her earlier books).

Murphy was anti-globalisation and anti-capitalist, and deeply hostile to western interventions in the developing world. That’s not quite where I am coming from, but I really appreciate her candid and unflinching commentary on the consequences, intended or unintended, of economic transition. But I must say that I appreciate even more her description of the glorious landscapes through which she travels, cycling along uncertain roads through the middle of the Laotian mountains. The one thing that the book lacks is a proper map; when I tried to identify some of the spots where she travelled, I was astonished at the distance she covered. I foolishly thought that crossing Bosnia on bombed-out roads in 1997 in our Belfast-bought Skoda was a bit of an adventure, but really there’s no comparison. It’s a fascinating read, and you can get it here.

We got this book because, as a regular Oxfam donor, Anne was invited to Laos in late 2019, twenty-two years on from Dervla Murphy, to see what the NGO money is being spent on. It’s her story to tell, not mine, but they made a promotional video about the trip which features her several times (starting at 0:19, and you can hear her speaking Dutch at 5:06).

This was my top book acquired in 2019. Next on that pile is The Lost Puzzler, by Eyal Kless.

The J.R.R. Tolkien Miscellany, by Robert S. Blackham

Second paragraph of third chapter:

By the time Tolkien was at Exeter College, he was a committed smoker, mostly smoking a pipe but sometimes cigarettes. Smoking was socially acceptable back then and a lot cheaper than it is today, and Tolkien was most happy when with his fellow students talking and smoking late into the evening.

One of those books of Tolkieniana that I picked up ages ago for a pound on the remainder shelves. Aspects of Tolkien’s life and writing (but mainly his life) are packaged into short, thematic, well-illustrated chapters, though the presentation confusingly alternates between the roughly chronological and the more broadly cultural. There wasn’t much here that was new to me, but it might do for the sort of reader who doesn’t want to tackle Carpenter or one of the other biographies. You can get it here.

This was the shortest book that I had acquired in 2017. Next on that pile is Giants at the End of the World, by Johanna Sinisalo.

Sunday reading

Current
Doctor Who: Wild Blue Yonder, by Mark Morris
Atlas of Irish History, by Ruth Dudley Edwards
Jaren van de olifant, by Willy Linthout

Last books finished
Giants at the End of the World, by Johanna Sinisalo
Doctor Who: The Star Beast, by Gary Russell
Doctor Who and the Dinosaur Invasion, by Malcolm Hulke
Recollections of Virginia Woolf by Her Contemporaries, by Joan Russell Noble
Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel

Next books
Invasion of the Dinosaurs, by Jon Arnold
Into the Unknown, ed. Laura Clarke
Marking Time, by Elizabeth Jane Howard

Wild Blue Yonder and The Giggle; the Fourteenth Doctor ends. (And the Celestial Toymaker)

So, unabashed squee from me for the second and third of the Fourteenth Doctor’s three episodes. A real feeling that the grownups are back in charge, wanting to make a show that is fun to watch and accessible, while also being much less shy about its past than it was in 2005. (It was not until Christmas 2006, in Catherine Tate’s first episode, that the word “Gallifrey” was even mentioned.)

I watch Wild Blue Yonder with a couple of fellow fans in the USA last weekend, and was really impressed at taking a fairly simple story (which has been done many times before, including by RTD in what I still think is his best single episode, Midnight) and making it come alive again. It’s rare to have a Doctor Who story that depends so much on the principals, though of course it was first done in The Edge of Destruction in 1964. The special effects show the money that Disney has thrown at it. The Isaac Newton bit was sheer humour, combined with a poke in the eye for bigots by casting a non-white actor in the role, but I don’t see any harm in either of those objectives. And of course lovely and emotional to see Bernard Cribbins again at the end.

The Giggle brought back the Celestial Toymaker, from a story shown in 1966 of which only one episode survived, for a grand confrontation that was suitably climactic. I thought the scenes of the Toymaker creating havoc inside UNIT came close to missing the mark, with comedy violence against women characters and a rather peculiar reference to American Beauty, but otherwise I really loved it.

Catherine Tate got a bit less to do here, apart from a great lost-in-corridors scene, but that’s because we were also introduced to Ncuti Gatwa a bit earlier than most of us had anticipated, with him emerging from David Tennant’s body wearing half his clothes (a gag also used in James Hadley Chase’s Miss Shumway Waves a Wand) and then joining forces with Tennant to defeat the villain – in a simple game of Catch, though that is very well filmed. Neil Patrick Harris was great too; of course real Germans don’t talk anything like that, the whole point is that the shop-keeper aspect of the Toymaker is a fake.

Some sensitive souls have complained that one of the central messages, that people are too often unkind on social media and it would be a bad world if we did this to each other in real life, suggests that it’s wrong to speak your mind frankly. Personally I think it’s reasonable to regret that so much public discourse is polarised these days, and also to acknowledge that RTD has been targeted for grossly unfair online criticism for his Doctor Who work since at least 2005, and you can’t expect that not to sting. I also thought the subtle commentary on television as a force for barbarism was nicely subversive of the very medium we were watching.

The return of UNIT (in a much nicer building than the one that got blown up last year) was not a huge surprise; some were surprised by the return of Bonnie Langford as Mel Bush. I was not. Why not? Because Mel was the only other character present at the final regeneration of Old Who, when the Sixth Doctor was transformed into the Seventh Doctor by BBC internal politics. Having her witness the regeneration from Fourteenth Doctor to Fifteenth Doctor confirms the message that we are saying goodbye to the first era of New Who and moving on to something new.

And I must say that the idea of the Fourteenth Doctor, representing all his predecessors, can settle down to a nice retirement with friends after sixty years, is tremendously moving for those of us who are also closer to sixty than to our youth. Perhaps something got in my eye at the end there. Anyway, I loved it.

Afterwards F and I rewatched the final episode of The Celestial Toymaker. The lore is that The producer of the day (John Wiles) had actually planned to make this what we would now call the first ever regeneration story. The First Doctor spends the second and third episodes invisible as a punishment by the Toymaker (and to accommodate William Hartnell’s holiday schedule); the idea was that when he returned to visibility it would be in a different body. But the BBC higher-ups moved to prevent this, the producer resigned and William Hartnell got another six months in the role.

The episode is manifestly made on a much smaller budget than any 21st century Doctor Who, and the pace is glacial. But the moments of confrontation between Hartnell and Michael Gough, playing the Toymaker, are well done, and the Doctor’s dilemma of how to play the final move in a game that will destroy their pocket universe when it ends is a good plot device (recycled in The Three Doctors and elsewhere). And we have this prophetic exchange at the end:

As Elizabeth Sandifer has written, this is a very problematic story (though see also here), and it was interesting to see it being reinvented in a very different way last night.

It isn’t over for the Fourteenth Doctor as far as this blog is concerned; I have three novelisations and a comic strip to report back on in due course. But that will do for now.

Ancestors in Eastern Connecticut: exploring the graveyards

As mentioned, I spent last weekend in Providence, Rhode Island, and used the Monday morning to explore four cemeteries in eastern Connecticut where ancestors of mine are buried.

These are all forebears of my great-great-grandfather William Charlton Hibbard, who himself is buried in West Roxbury near Boston. He was born in New Hampshire, as were his parents; his Hibbard grandparents, David Hibbard and Eunice née Talcott, had moved north from Connecticut in the 1770s (perhaps to avoid the war?), but their parents’ graves are all recorded, three of the four in the cemetery at Coventry CT and the fourth at nearby Windham. Earlier Hibbards vanish into the mists, but all four of Eunice’s grandparents seemed also findable; her maternal grandparents also in Coventry, her father’s father in nearby Bolton and her father’s mother (possibly) a bit further away in Windsor.

(Click to embiggen)

Along with my third cousins P and L, who had joined me to find our great-grandparents’ graves last year, and with the estimable Esther as official photographer (so most of the photos below are hers not mine), I set off to track down the last resting places of our forebears.

I rented an electric Kia in Providence on a one-way trip to Logan Airport, and we enjoyed the lovely autumnal drive through southern New England to Windham, where my 5x great grandmother Eliza Hibbard née Leavens is buried.

From the official Hibbard family history

It would have been truly fantastic maybe three or four weeks earlier when the leaves were at full autumnal glory, but as it was, we really weren’t complaining; it was a crisp December day with cheerful sunshine.

Windham cemetery is quite extensive, but the older graves are concentrated near the road. It took me a couple of minutes’ frustrated roaming to remember that there is a photograph of Eliza’s grave on the excellent Findagrave website. She has a very distinctive pentagonal headstone.

The inscription is now obscured by lichen, but it said:
February 13 1762 departed
this life Elizabeth, wife of David
Hebbard, at 38
years of her age

Poor Elizabeth! She was married at 19, and had six children that we know of, three of whom died young; she herself died at 38, and you have to wonder if that was related to yet another pregnancy. Her fourth but oldest surviving child, David, named for his father, was our ancestor. I know nothing about her except the dates of her birth, marriage and death, and the same for her parents, husband and children; nobody who knew her in life has drawn breath since the middle of the nineteenth century; and yet I felt an electric shock of connection as I found her last resting place.

We continued our journey to find the five graves at Coventry, where we converged with P and L, coming in opposite directions from Boston and New Haven respectively. A navigation error (mine) meant that we were the last to arrive, but still in good time for the morning’s plans. The South Street Cemetery, aka the Old South Burying Ground, is much the smallest of the four we visited, and has very few recent graves.

It did not take us long to find Eliza’s husband, our 5x great-grandfather David Hibbard, and his second wife Dorcas née Throop. He lived to 1800, lucky chap, outliving poor Eliza by almost forty years. Dorcas was the same age as Eliza, and David married her less than a year after Eliza’s death; they had three more children who all survived to adulthood and have living descendants, the last born when Dorcas was 43.

Mr David Hibbard died
Auguſt 13th 1800
aged 84 years

In melancholy ſilence here I lay
When Chriſt has call’d my ſoul away
In Gods own arms I left my breath
And O my friends prepare for death

L and P are half-second cousins to each other, sharing a great-grandfather, Thomas Hibbard. He was the older brother of my great-grandfather, Henry Deming Hibbard, so L and P are both third cousins of mine. All three of us are signed up to both Ancestry.com and 23andMe; the two sites disagree about whether I share more DNA with L or with P, but in any case it’s somewhere between 0.6% and 1%. You can judge for yourself if it is visible.

David and Eliza’s son, David junior, married Eunice Talcott, also from Coventry, and they moved up north to the borders of New Hampshire and Vermont, and are buried there. Like David junior, Eunice was named for one of her parents (our 5x great-grandparents); they were Joseph Talcott and Eunice née Lyman, and we found them not far away, next to each other.

Eunice’s headstone (between me and L) reads:

In memory of Mrs. Eunice
Talcott, relict of Capt. Jo-
seph Talcott, who died
August 11th 1813 in the
80th year of her age.

And it is appointed unto
men once to die, but after
this the judgment.

Blessed are the dead,
which die in the Lord

Joseph Talcott fought in the Connecticut militia during the war of independence, and is listed second of the men of Coventry who participated in the first battle of the war, at Lexington in April 1775.

His grave has been adorned with a flag, presumably by local patriots.

This Monument is erected
in memory of Cap. Joſeph
Talcott, who was caſually
Drowned in the Proud Wa-
ters of Scungamug River:
on the 10th Day of June 1789
in ye 62nd Year of his Age.

For man alſo knoweth not his
time, as the fiſhes that are taken in
an evil net, and as the bird that
are caught in the ſnare: ſo are
the ſons of men ſnared in an
evil time, when it falleth sudden-
ly upon them.

The memory of ye juſt is Bleſsed.

We mused about the record of his death, “casually drowned in the proud waters of Scungamug River”. The river is easy; the Skungamaug River, as it is now spelt, runs north to south through Tolland County, in which Coventry is situated. But what does “casually drowned” mean? Are we meant to infer that his death was accidental, or suicide, or something else? A bit of googling suggests that accidental death is intended, but the fact is that this very inscription seems to be the best-recorded use of the phrase. And “proud waters”?

His in-laws, Eunice Talcott née Lyman’s parents, our 6x great-grandparents, are also not too far away in the same cemetery.

Left:
In Memory of Mr
Samuel Lyman
who died Febr ye
4th 1754 in ye 54th
Year of his Age

As You are now
So once were we
As we are now
So You muſt be.

Right:
In Memory of Mrs
Eliſabeth Lyman
ye wife of Mr Samu
Lyman who Died
Febr ye 28th 1751 in
ye 48th year of her
Age

Elizabeth’s maiden name was Smith, which unfortunately makes it very difficult to trace her ancestry further back as there are just too many Smiths around. Her married name, Lyman, became a recurrent first name for boys in the Hibbard family, including my grandmother’s brother, six generations later. (Lyman was also the first name of L. Frank Baum, author of The Wizard of Oz; he never used it, and I have not been able to establish if he was yet another relative, but as it happens my grandmother’s name was Dorothy.)

Benjamin Talcott, Joseph Talcott’s father and therefore another 6x great-grandparent, rests in nearby Quarryville Cemetery in Bolton CT. The cemetery itself is on a rise surrounded by a drive; we parked at the first available opportunity and resigned ourselves to a long search.

But to our surprise we had parked right beside him. His headstone is by far the most dramatic of all of those we saw – it also had the easiest to read inscription, which helped. As usual, it is topped by a rather grotesque winged figure, and has a suitably chilling message.

(Unlike the other pictures here which are either mine or Esther’s, this was taken by L.)

This Monument is
Erected in Memory of
Benjamin Tallcott Esq.
who Departed this Life
on the 9th Day of March
AD 1785 in ye 83d Year
of his Age.

So man Lieth down, and
riſeth not till ye Heavens be no more.

Hark! Death’s Motto from the Silent Tomb
With awful voice Proclaims aloud
Mortals, prepare for you must come
And mingle with the Ghastly Crowd

Interpreting this was a lot of fun. The biblical quote is from Job, but the doggerel appears to be original, or at least the source is not known to Google.

A smaller memorial stone behind the larger one commemorates Benjamin’s service in Captain Rudd’s Company during the French and Indian War (which lasted from 1752 to 1763, so he would have been an elderly Sergeant given that he was born around 1702).

I was charmed by the church steeple a few hundred metres away, and the gables of the nearer farm buildings.

Finally, and a good bit further on, we reached the Palisado cemetery in Windsor, which according to Findagrave.com is the resting place of Benjamin Talcott’s wife Esther, née Lyman, another 6x great-grandparent. (Her daughter-in-law Eunice was also her second cousin twice removed.) This is a huge cemetery, still in use, with an active railway line skirting its boundaries. P took this photo of me and L trying to work out where to find the ancestral Esther, with today’s Esther offering encouragement.

And in fact it was Esther who found Esther.

Unfortunately I’m not convinced that this is the right Esther Talcott. The stone is clearly more recent than 1751, when my 6x great-grandmother died; this Esther rests beside a John H. Talcott, also undated, and a Guy Talcott whose date of death is given as February 28, 1857, aged 78, which is much too late.

Guy Talcott was the son of Daniel Talcott (1744-1824) and Eunice née Moore (1751-1838), distant cousins of our Talcott ancestors, and he had a sister, Esther, and a brother, John (middle initial not otherwise recorded). So I think these are the three Talcotts in Windsor, rather than our direct relatives. Still, it was good that we found the grave we were looking for.

We went for a very decent pub lunch at the Union Street Tavern, and then set off in our separate directions, P dropping Esther back to Providence as I needed to get straight to Logan Airport for my flight. This turned out to be a bit more hair-raising than expected as it took me ages to find out how to charge the electric car, which didn’t quite have enough oomph for the full journey; I eventually sorted it out, and arrived at the departure gate just five minutes before boarding started for my transatlantic flight. Don’t do that, folks, find out how to charge your electric car before driving it. Otherwise it was a good driving experience.

And a good day over all – many thanks to L, P and Esther for being comrades in research. We must do it again some time – I think there are some more graves to be found in a cluster near Worcester, and more again farther north around Littleton NH. In fact I have a photograph from a similar expedition in 1941, when my great-grandfather (right, with beard) and his nephew, P’s grandfather (left) found the graves of David and Eunice Hibbard’s son Lyman and his wife Rebecca there.

Photograph taken by my grandmother’s brother Lyman.

If it’s been done once, it can be done again.

The Girl in the Road, by Monica Byrne

Second paragraph of third chapter:

“Who are you?” I say.

This was joint winner of the Tiptree Award in 2015, along with My Real Children by Jo Walton. It’s set in near-future Asia and Africa, with two different timelines converging on Djibouti from the east (across the ocean) and the west (across the continent). I really liked the two timelines, and was kept guessing until quite near the end as to how they actually meshed together. I was not sure about the ending, where 1) both time lines end up with fatal love triangles and 2) the resolution of the earlier of the two timelines struck me as medically improbable, even with future technology. But I really loved the central images of the two roads, one across the ocean (though why ending in Djibouti rather than Bossasso?) and the other across the Sahel. You can get it here.

The Tiptree honor list also included three other books that I have read, Kaleidoscope, eds Alisa Krasnostein & Julia Rios, Lagoon by Nnedi Okorafor and Memory of Water by Emmi Itärantal; three books that I have not read, Ascension by Jacqueline Koyanagi, The Beauty by Aliya Whiteley and Elysium by Jennifer Marie Brissett; and four shorter pieces, “In Her Eyes” by Seth Chambers, “The Lightness of the Movement” by Pat MacEwen, “Neither Witch nor Fairy” by Nghi Vo and “A Woman Out of Time”, Kim Curran.

On to Ancillary Sword.

Lovecraft’s Providence

I spent last weekend at SMOFCon in Providence, Rhode Island, mostly inside the sheltered environment of the Marriott Bonvoy hotel. I did get out for a walk on a damp Sunday morning to attempt the Necronomicon walking tour of sites associated with H.P. Lovecraft in the College Hill district of the city.

The eponymous College Hill, location of Brown University, is edged by a sharp ridge, along which Benefit Street runs from south to north, with a steep drop to the Providence River an the canal to the west. It was easy to imagine tendrils of horrible fog swirling up from below, from the less salubrious parts of the town to trouble the white middle-classes on the higher ground.

135 Benefit Street, supposedly the basis of The Shunned House, “a particular house on the eastern side of the street; a dingy, antiquated structure perched on the abruptly rising side-hill, with a great unkempt yard dating from a time when the region was partly open country… that house, to the two persons in possession of certain information, equals or outranks in horror the wildest phantasy of the genius who so often passed it unknowingly, and stands starkly leering as a symbol of all that is unutterably hideous.”
The home of Henry Anthony Wilcox in The Call of Cthulhu, 7 Thomas Street, “the Fleur-de-Lys Building in Thomas Street, a hideous Victorian imitation of seventeenth-century Breton architecture which flaunts its stuccoed front amidst the lovely colonial houses on the ancient hill, and under the very shadow of the finest Georgian steeple in America.”

I’m also pretty certain that I took a selfie in front of Lovecraft’s residence at the time of his death, which has been moved from its original address at 64 College Street to 65 Prospect Street; but the picture seems to have been eliminated from my device, probably by some nameless eldritch unearthly power, unprepared to share the image with the human world.

I did take a picture of the sign marking H.P. Lovecraft Memorial Square, which is flanked by an arcane but mangled symbol on a metal plate to the right, and a graphic display of a flashing hand with numbers counting down to the end of time on the other. (Actually the numbers may just be counting down until the traffic lights change; sometimes what you get from these experiences is what you bring to them.)

Lovecraft is of course a tremendously problematic figure, but his descriptive powers are extraordinary, and it was fascinating, though also damp, to walk the streets that had inspired him.

2023 Hugo final ballot – quick take and details

The Hugo final ballot statistics are out! Though the nominations stats are not yet available.

There were some notably close results:

  • Chris Barkley won Best Fan Writer by *one* vote
  • Zero Gravity Newspaper beat Journey Planet by 8 votes in Best Fanzine
  • Strange Horizons lost to Uncanny Magazine by 18 on the last count for Best Semiprozine, despite having led throughout

The only possible closer vote in the final ballot is a tie, which has happened only once since 1993, when The City & The City and The Windup Girl both won Best Novel in 2010. Between 1953 and 1993 there were ten tied results for the Hugos – two in 1953, one each in 1966, 1968, 1973 and 1974, two again in 1977 and one each in 1989 and 1993. Plus also the Campbell Award in 1974, for a total of twelve. We also had a tie in the 1945 Retro Hugo for Best Dramatic Presentation (Short Form) in 2020, which I think is the only tied result for the Retros ever.

Other results this year were much more one-sided, very few going to all stages of the count. Best Short Story (“Rabbit Test”), Best Related Work (the Terry Pratchett biography), and Best Professional Artist (Enzhe Zhao) were all decided on first preferences, and Everything Everywhere All at Once got exactly 50% of the first preferences for Best Related Work (but of course had to got to a second count). Rob Wilkins’ biography of Terry Pratchett got a massive 59.7% of first prefs in Best Related Work.

Camestros Felapton crunched the numbers, and there are only 11 first-count wins on record from this century, five of which were “No Awards” in 2015, and another three were the Lord of the Rings films in 2002, 2003 and 2004. (The other three were Naomi Novik winning the then Campbell Award in 2007, Sarah Webb winning Best Fan Artist in 2014, and “Cat Pictures Please” winning Best Short Story in 2016.)

But we have had them much more often in the Retro Hugos : John W. Campbell for Best Editor (Long) in 1996, 2001, 2014, 2016, 2018, 2019 and 2020, Margaret Brundage for Best Professional Artist in 2020, “Foundation” for Best Novelette in 2018, Fantasia  for Best Dramatic Presentation, Long Form in 2016, “The War of the Worlds” for Best Dramatic Presentation, Short Form, in 2014, “The Nine Billion Names of God” for Best Short Story in 2004, and three other than John Campbell in 1996 – Animal Farm in Best Novella, “First Contact” in Best Novelette and Bill Rotsler in Best Fan Artist. That’s fifteen in total, twelve this century.

1674 final ballot votes is the lowest since 2010. It is only the third time since my records begin in 1971 that that nomination votes have exceeded final ballot votes; the other two occasions were 2016, which was a side-effect of the Puppy wars, and 1994, when the previous year’s convention made a determined effort to get members to nominate.

“No Award” votes are significantly higher for Best Series than any other category – 12.2% of first preferences (next highest is 7.0% in Fan Artist); 21.2% in the runoff (next highest is 11.1% in Fanzine). I have to say that this confirms me in my view that the problem with the Best Series category is not that it needs various tweaks relating to eligibility, but that it exists in the first place.

Best Novel had the highest participation, 1068 (63.8%); and Best Fancast had the lowest, 572 (34.1%), still comfortably ahead of the old 25% threshold, which has anyway now been abolished – it would have applied this year, but no category was anywhere near the danger zone.

To the details. I note below whenever a result was decided by less than 20 votes. I voted for four of the winners, which is a little more than usual.

Best Novel
Nettle and Bone beat both The Island of Dr Moreau and The Kaiju Preservation Society on the fifth pass; Legends and Lattes then beat The Island of Dr Moreau for second place; The Kaiju Preservation Society beat The Island of Dr Moreau for third place; The Island of Dr Moreau (my own choice) finally won fourth place ahead of The Spare Man, which came fifth with Nona the Ninth sixth.

Best Novella
The Drowned Girls beat both Ogres and Even Though I Knew the End on the fifth pass; Ogres beat Even Though I Knew the End for second place, Even Though I Knew the End came from behind to beat What Moves the Dead by only 19 votes for third place, What Moves the Dead (my own choice) beat Into the Riverlands for fourth place, Into the Riverlands beat A Mirror Mended for fifth place, and A Mirror Mended took sixth.

Best Novelette
“The Space-Time Painter” beat “If You Find Yourself Speaking to God, Address God with the Informal You” on the sixth count, by 112 votes; “If You Find Yourself Speaking to God, Address God with the Informal You” beat “A Dream of Electric Mothers” by 15 votes for second place; “A Dream of Electric Mothers” beat “Murder By Pixel: Crime and Responsibility in the Digital Darkness” for third place; “We Built This City” sneaked ahead in a tight field to beat “The Difference Between Love and Time” for fourth place; “Murder by Pixel” (my own choice) beat “The Difference Between Love and Time” for fifth place; and “The Difference Between Love and Time” came sixth.

Best Short Story
As noted above, “Rabbit Test” won on the first count, with “Zhurong on Mars” next but a very long way behind. “D.I.Y.” beat “Resurrection” for second place, “Zhurong on Mars” beat “Resurrection” for third place and finally “Resurrection” beat “The White Cliff” for fourth place. “The White Cliff” beat “Razor’s Edge” for fifth place and “Razor’s Edge” came sixth. For once, I too voted for the winner.

Best Series
Children of Time won a convincing victory on the fourth round, with October Daye, the Scholomance and Rivers of London still in the field. As noted above, this was also the category in which No Award had by far its best performance. Rivers of London beat The Locked Tomb by 16 votes for second place; The Scholomance beat October Daye by 10 votes for third place; The Locked Tomb beat October Daye for fourth place, October Daye beat the Founders Trilogy for fifth place and the Founders Trilogy came sixth, beating No Award by the relatively slim margin of 313 votes to 213. As noted previously, I voted No Award in this category but put Children of Time second.

Best Graphic Story or Comic
Cyberpunk 2077, which I hated but is massively popular in China, won on the third pass with everything except No Award and Once and Future still in the picture. The Dune adaptation beat Saga for second place by 5 votes; Monsters beat Supergirl for third place also by 5 votes; Supergirl (my own choice) beat Saga for fourth place by 17 votes; Once and Future beat Saga by 20 votes for fifth place, and finally Saga, which had been within five votes of taking second place, came sixth.

Best Related Work
As noted above, Terry Pratchett: A Life With Footnotes won a stinking first-round victory with almost 60% of the votes cast. The other placings, in order, with the runner-up for each place winning the next one, and no results particularly close, were Chinese Science Fiction, An Oral History, Volume 1 in second place, Blood, Sweat & Chrome third, Still Just a Geek fourth, Ghost of Workshops Past fifth and the Buffalo World Outreach Project sixth. Here too I voted for the winner.

Best Dramatic Presentation (Long Form)
As previously noted, Everything Everywhere All at Once got exactly half of the first preference votes and was easily brought over the threshold by the elimination of No Award. The other placings, in order, with the runner-up for each place winning the next one, and only one close result, were: Turning Red second; Nope third; Severance fourth by 8 votes; Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (my own choice) fifth and Avatar: The Way of Water sixth.

Best Dramatic Presentation (Short Form)
The Expanse: “Babylon’s Ashes” won on the fourth count with Andor: “One Way Out”, Stranger Things: “Chapter Four: Dear Billy” and She-Hulk: “Whose Show is This?” still in the game. The other placings, in order, with the runner-up for each place winning the next one, and several close results, were: Andor: “One Way Out” second, Stranger Things: “Chapter Four: Dear Billy” third by 19 votes, Andor: Rix Road” fourth by 9 votes, For All Mankind: “Stranger in a Strange Land” (my own choice) fifth by 18 votes, and She-Hulk: “Whose Show is This?” sixth.

Best Editor, Long Form
This only went to five counts, but that was because of a double elimination; Lindsey Hall won a convincing victory over Haijun Yao. The other placings, in order, with the runner-up for each place winning the next one, and only one close result, were: Haijun Yao second, Lee Harris third, Ruoxi Chen fourth by 12 votes, Sarah Peed fifth and Han Yan sixth. I have my doubts about the existence of this category, but it was really very nice to see Lindsey Hall’s joy as she accepted the award on the night.

Best Editor, Short Form
Neil Clarke won on the third count, with Xu Wang, Feng Yang, Sheree Thomas and Oghenechovwe Donald Ekpeki still in the picture. This was one category where Chinese finalists did not get many transfers from non-Chinese finalists. Sheree Thomas beat Xu Wang for second place; Oghenechovwe Donald Ekpeki beat Scott H. Andrews for third place, after Xu Wang was eliminated by a 5-vote margin on the penultimate count; Scott H. Andrews beat Xu Wang for fourth place; Xu Wang beat Feng Yang by 15 votes for fifth place; and Feng Yang came sixth.

Best Professional Artist
As noted, Enzhe Zhao pulled off a first-round victory, with Alyssa Winans the least far behind of the others. Kuri Huang beat Jian Zhang for second place; Sija Hong beat Alissa Winans for third place; Alyssa Winans beat Jian Zhang for fourth place; Jian Zhang beat Paul Lewin for fifth place; and Paul Lewin came sixth, with none of the results particularly close. I actually found myself chatting to Kuri Huang and Sija Hong on the way to the ceremony, which was nice as I had myself voted for Sija Hong.

Best Semiprozine
Strange Horizons led on all counts except the last, when Uncanny Magazine got enough transfers from FIYAH to win by 18 votes, the only result of the night where the winner did not also have the most first preference votes. Strange Horizons then pulled off a rare first-round victory for second place, with FIYAH the least far behind; FIYAH beat Escape Pod for third place, Escape Pod beat khōréō for fourth place, PodCastle beat khōréō for fifth place and khōréō took sixth place, none of them terribly close.

Best Fanzine
In the first home victory announced on the evening, Zero Gravity Newspaper was nip and tuck with Journey Planet but eventually won by 8 votes. Journey Planet beat Chinese Academic SF Express for second place; Nerds of a Feather beat Chinese Academic SF Express by 11 votes for third place; Unofficial Hugo Book Club Blog beat Chinese Academic SF Express for fourth place; and finally Chinese Academic SF Express beat Galactic Journey for fifth place with Galactic Journey coming sixth.

Best Fancast
Hugo, Girl! won an impressive second-round victory on the first count, with Coode Street Podcast next in line. Hugos There, which had actually had the fewest first preferences, took second place ahead of Coode Street Podcast by 13 votes. Coode Street Podcast came third, 19 votes ahead of Octothorpe. Octothorpe beat Worldbuilding for Masochists for fourth place, Worldbuilding for Masochists beat Kalanadi for fifth place and Kalanadi came sixth.

Best Fan Writer
As noted, Chris Barkley beat RiverFlow by just one vote, the closest result of the night and probably of the decade. He had been ahead throughout, and transfers from Arthur Liu were not quite enough to make the difference. RiverFlow beat Arthur Liu for second place; Arthur Liu won a convincing third place with both Bitter Karella and Örjan Westin still in the game; Bitter Karella beat Jason Sanford for fourth place, Jason Sanford beat Örjan Westin for fifth place and Örjan Westin came sixth.

Best Fan Artist
Richard Man (my own choice) won on the fifth round, with Iain Clark and Laya Rose still in. The other placings, in order, with the runner-up for each place winning the next one, and no close results, were Iain Clark second, Lara Rose third, Alison Scott fourth, España Sherriff fifth, and Orion Smith sixth.

Lodestar Award for Best Young Adult Book
Akata Woman won a fifth-round victory with The Golden Enclaves and Osmo Unknown and the Eightpenny Woods still in the game. The Golden Enclaves beat Osmo Unknown and the Eightpenny Woods for second place; Dreams Bigger Than Heartbreak beat The Serpent’s Wake for third place; The Serpent’s Wake beat Osmo Unknown and the Eightpenny Woods for fourth place; and Osmo Unknown and the Eightpenny Woods (my own choice) finally beat Bloodmarked for fifth place, with Bloodmarked coming sixth.

Astounding Award for Best New Writer
Travis Baldree was close to a first round victory and clinched it on the second round, with Isabel J. Kim the least far behind. Isabel J. Kim (my own choice) came from behind to beat Everina Maxwell by 17 votes for second place, narrowly avoiding elimination in favour of Maijia Liu by 2 votes in the penultimate round. Everina Maxwell beat Maijia Liu for third place, Maijia Liu beat Naseem Jamnia for fourth place, Naseem Janina beat Weimu Xin by 7 votes for fifth place and Weimu Xin got sixth place. Personally I thought Weimu Xin’s stories were excellent, but they were only made available in Chinese, and I fear that not many non-Chinese voters will have bothered to run them through the translation sites.

Looking forward to seeing the nomination statistics.

Sunday reading

Current
Giants at the End of the World, by Johanna Sinisalo
Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel

Last books finished
Under the Yoke, by Ivan Vazov
Ancillary Sword, by Ann Leckie
The Hidden Lives of Tudor Women, by Elizabeth Norton
Many Grains of Sand, by Liz Castro
Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka
Facing Fate: The Good Companion, by Nick Abadzis et al

Next books
Doctor Who: The Star Beast, by Gary Russell
Recollections of Virginia Woolf by Her Contemporaries, by Joan Russell Noble
Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka