January 2024 books

Non-fiction 7
Fatal Path, by Ronan Fanning
Rule of Law: A Memoir, by Glynnis Breytenbach
Anthro-Vision, by Gillian Tett
The Dark Queens, by Shelley Puhak
Blackpool Revisited, by John Collier
Vincent and the Doctor, by Paul Driscoll
The Talons of Weng-Chiang, by Dale Smith

Non-genre 4
The Beautifull Cassandra, by Jane Austen
Tristram Shandy, by Laurence Sterne
Yellowface, by R.F. Kuang
Murder in Mesopotamia, by Agatha Christie

Plays 2
The Talons of Weng-Chiang, by Robert Holmes, edited by John McElroy
Three Plays, by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart

SF 5
The Future, by Naomi Alderman
Attack on Thebes, by M.D. Cooper (did not finish)
Babel, by R.F. Kuang
“The New Mother”, by Eugene Fischer
“Georgia on my Mind”, by Charles Sheffield

Doctor Who 1
Doctor Who and the Talons of Weng-Chiang, by Terrance Dicks

Comics 2
A Fairytale Life, by Lilah Sturges et al
Strawberry and the Soul Reapers, by Tite Kubo

5,600 pages 
9/21 by non-male writers (Breytenbach, Tett, Puhak, Austen, Christie, Alderman, Cooper, Kuang, Sturges)
3/21 by a non-white writer (Kuang x2, Kubo)
5/21 rereads (Tristram Shandy, The Talons of Weng-Chiang (script), “The New Mother”, “Georgia on my Mind”, Doctor Who and the Talons of Weng-Chiang)
305 books currently tagged unread, down 7 from last month

Reading now
The Dawnhounds, by Sasha Stronach
The Odyssey, by Homer, tr Emily Wilson
A Life in Questions, by Jeremy Paxman
Tintin au Pays de l’Or Noir, by Hergé

Coming soon (perhaps)
After Life, by Al Ewing et al 
David Whitaker in an Exciting Adventure with Television, by Simon Guerrier
Kill the Moon, by Darren Mooney
Doctor Who and the Sunmakers
, by Terrance Dicks
The Sunmakers, by Lewis Baston
The Unsettled Dust, by Robert Aickman
Sferics 2017, ed. Roz Clarke
The Smile on the Face of the Tiger, by Douglas Hurd and Andrew Osmond
Bletchley Park Brainteasers, by Sinclair McKay
Notes from the Burning Age, by Claire North
Short Fiction of Flann O’Brien
The Wheels of Chance, by H.G. Wells
Confusion, by Elizabeth Jane Howard
Moonraker’s Bride, by Madeleine Brent
Parable of the Sower, by Octavia E. Butler
When the Moon Was Ours, by Anna-Marie McLemore
How Democracies Die, by Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt
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
Land of the Blind, by Scott Gray
L’Affaire Tournesol, by Hergé
The Sol Majestic, by Ferrett Steinmetz

Rule of Law: a Memoir, by Glynnis Breytenbach

Second paragraph of third chapter:

My parents had limited opportunities when they were young. Neither of them went to university. They weren’t stupid, but their frame of reference was very limited. They didn’t read particularly widely or well. Their lives were work, home, television. My dad played tennis, too, before he retired. They weren’t very well educated, and they hadn’t travelled either. Their horizons were quite narrow and neither was particularly adventurous. When I travelled, they really didn’t get it. They thought it was marvellous that I could go to Greece, but it never occurred to them that they could have gone too. The first time they ever went overseas was in 1996 or 1997, when I sent them on a holiday.

I was encouraged to get this book, then newly published, when I visited South Africa in 2017 as a guest of the Democratic Alliance. Breytenbach is a former state prosecutor who is now one of the DA’s parliamentary stars. Her autobiography is a frank account of service to the judicial system of South Africa, punctuated by politically motivated interference (a disciplinary procedure and a criminal prosecution, both of which exonerated her). The story is told in 27 beathless chapters, full of picturesque South African slang (I am still not sure if “oke” is pejorative), punctuated also by comments from friends and colleagues.

To be honest, it is not a brilliant book. It is assumed that the reader is already super-familiar with South Africa and also with the high points of its recent criminal and judicial history. Many pages are devoted to the evils of Jacob Zuma, who was then the president of the country; in fact he was forced out of office six months after this book was published, so those sections became instantly out of date. One gets the sense that Breytenbach makes few concessions in her professional life; that’s certainly also true of her approach to her readers here. For South Africanists only, I think, but you can get it here.

This was the very last book acquired in 2017 that I got around to reading, five months after I finished the last book that I acquired in 2016.

Last book acquired in 2017, read in January 2024 (Rule of Law: A Memoir)
Last book acquired in 2016, read in August 2023 (Autism Spectrum Disorders Through the Lifespan)
Last book acquired in 2015, read in November 2022 (Rauf Denktaş, a Private Portrait)
Last books acquired in 2014, read in October 2021 (The Empire of Time and Crashland)
Last book acquired in 2013, read in October 2020 (Helen Waddell)
Last book acquired in 2012, read in May 2020 (A Sacred Cause: The Inter-Congolese dialogue 2000-2003)
Last book acquired in 2011, read in October 2019 (Luck and the Irish)
Last book acquired in 2010, read in January 2019 (Heartspell)
Last book acquired in 2009, read in December 2016 (Last Exit to Babylon)

The 2018 pile is not so big and I am confident that I’ll get through it in a few months too, starting with:

  • The shortest book I acquired that year – The Beautifull Cassandra, by Jane Austen
  • The unread sf book that has lingered longest on my shelves – Attack on Thebes, by M.D. Cooper
  • The unread non-genre book that has lingered longest on my shelves – Three Plays, by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart
  • The unread non-fiction book that has lingered longest on my shelves – A Life in Questions, by Jeremy Paxman
  • The top unread book that I acquired in 2018 – The Unsettled Dust, by Robert Aickman.

Monday Reading

Current
The Dawnhounds, by Sasha Stronach
The Odyssey, by Homer, tr Emily Wilson
A Life in Questions, by Jeremy Paxman
Tintin au Pays de l’Or Noir, by Hergé

Last books finished
Three Plays, by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart
“Georgia on my Mind”, by Charles Sheffield

Next books
After Life, by Al Ewing et al
The Unsettled Dust, by Robert Aickman
Notes from the Burning Age, by Claire North

Go Alex!!

The initial results are in, and it looks very much as if Alexander Stubb will be elected the next President of Finland in the second round of voting in two weeks’ time.

I’ve known him since he was a member of the European Parliament, and for complex reasons ended up hosting an official meeting for him and the Turkish Cypriot leadership in my office in December 2008. Back in 2018 I went to Helsinki to help him campaign for the EPP nomination for the Presidency of the European Comission.

https://twitter.com/nwbrux/status/1060104115039227904

Finland’s biggest newspaper ran a story not so much about him but about me being there:

More recently I have taken cooking advice from him:

This evening’s results indicate that he will face off against the Green candidate Pekka Haavisto, who lost the two previous elections in 2018 and 2012. I don’t have any problem with Haavisto, and the really good news is that the extremist candidate finished a poor third, but I’ll be cheering for Alex on 11 February.

The big organ at Kelvingrove, and a Roman bath house

I am in Glasgow for a preparatory meeting for this summer’s Worldcon, and for complex reasons arrived on Thursday evening and did my day job from the hotel yesterday. I took a long lunch break though for a cultural excursion in two parts.

First stop was the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, a splendid structure abut 15-20 minutes’ walk from the conference centre.

The big draw was an organ recital – the Kelvingrove organ is massive (and therefore open to much double entendre) and the sound fills the main hall well. I particularly liked the video feed of the organist’s hands and feet.

The art gallery is rather special too; the painting that particularly spoke to me was a Belgian refugee from the first world war, painted by Norah Neilson Gray. (I took my own photo but this is the official gallery one.)

Gray, Norah Neilson; A Belgian Refugee; Glasgow Museums; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/a-belgian-refugee-84289

The second leg of the trip was to te end of the Roman Empire. When I watched the Oscar-winning film Gladiator back in 2021, it transpired that the Antonine Wall has a bit of a marketing problem, at least among my Facebook friends (click through for vigorous discussion):

The Antonine Wall ran from what’s now northern Glasgow to northern Edinburgh. It was made of turf rather than stone, unlike the much better known Hadrian’s Wall, so almost nothing survives of the actual structure. It wasn’t actually the northernmost limit of the empire: there were the Gask Ridge Forts north of Edinburgh, and also the mysterious temple-like structure near Falkirk (which gave its name to Stenhousemuir), known as Arthur’s O’on and destroyed in 1743.

In Bearsden, now a northern suburb of Glasgow, the foundations of a Roman fort were found in 1973, and the excavated foundations of the bathhouse are visible in a little park by the road (whose name is “Roman Road”). It’s 15-20 minutes by car from the convention centre in normal traffic.

Often these sites amount to little more than a big pile of stones, but there are several decent interpretative signboards featuring manly men using the facilities.

You can imagine how the Gaulish soldiers, after a hard day’s patrolling in the rain, would have loved to settle down in the heated room and hang out with their mates. The flags and underfloor channels behind which heated air circulated have also been well preserved.

I was educated by nuns in Belfast, and although the school itself was a modern building, the convent (which we spilled into occasionally) had been built in 1874 by an engineering magnate who installed the first central heating system in any house in Ireland. A century later, it was very noisy and probably unsafe – I hope it has been replaced by now! The Roman system looks very attractive.

The Baptist church across the road is on the site of the main section of the camp, and boasts a “Roman sound garden” and a large wooden statue of a legionary.

Edward Gibbon, in one of his eloquent but inaccurate and prejudiced passages, wrote of the Antonine Wall in the context of Agricola:

Before his departure, the prudent general had provided for security as well as for dominion. He had observed that the island is almost divided into two unequal parts by the opposite gulfs, or, as they are now called, the Firths of Scotland. Across the narrow interval of about forty miles, he had drawn a line of military stations, which was afterwards fortified in the reign of Antoninus Pius, by a turf rampart erected on foundations of stone. This wall of Antoninus, at a small distance beyond the modern cities of Edinburgh and Glasgow, was fixed as the limit of the Roman province. The native Caledonians preserved in the northern extremity of the island their wild independence, for which they were not less indebted to their poverty than to their valour. Their incursions were frequently repelled and chastised; but their country was never subdued. The masters of the fairest and most wealthy climates of the globe turned with contempt from gloomy hills assailed by the winter tempest, from lakes concealed in a blue mist, and from cold and lonely heaths, over which the deer of the forest were chased by a troop of naked barbarians.

The Romans did of course press quite far north of the Antonine Wall before they gave up on what is now Scotland, and the source given for the last sentence is Appian, who actually says: “Crossing the Northern ocean to Britain, a continent in itself, they took possession of the better and larger part, not caring for the remainder. Indeed, the part they do hold is not of much use to them.” That last barb about southern Britain is somehow omitted by Gibbon.

Fatal Path: British Government and Irish Revolution 1910-1922

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Balfour’s Irish experience was rooted in his years as chief secretary for Ireland from 1887 to 1891 when his repressive policies had earned him the nickname of ‘Bloody Balfour’ among Irish nationalists. His deep-seated Unionism was the rock on which the efforts to establish a bipartisan policy on the Irish problem had foundered in 191o. In 1920 Balfour was the cabinet minister arguing most forcefully for Ulster’s right to remain a fully integrated part of the United Kingdom. In November 1921 he remained so sceptical of negotiating with Irish republicans in the aftermath of the truce that ended the Irish war of independence that Lloyd George sent him to head the British delegation at the Washington Naval Conference lest his presence in London disrupt the negotiations that led to the establishment of the Irish Free State. Arthur Balfour was at once the most cultivated, the most cynical and the most cerebral of prime ministers. The trouble with Arthur, a colleague observed, is that he knows there has been one Ice Age and he thinks there’s going to be another. Who better, then, to share Balfour’s enjoyment at Shaw’s lampooning of the conduct of well-meaning English liberals in Ireland than the two Liberal leaders who were to follow him into 10 Downing Street?

I did not know Ronan Fanning well; we met a few times and I certainly admired his work. Although this book came late in his life, published in 2013, four years before he died, big chunks are apparently taken from his PhD thesis of 1968. I guess history doesn’t necessarily change that much.

The subject is Westminster attitudes to Ireland at the time of independence, focussing especially on the two Prime Ministers, Asquith and Lloyd George, and also on the leading Conservative politicians and the other Liberals, Winston Churchill in particular. My own PhD thesis concentrated on almost exactly the same period, and I thought I had done a pretty exhaustive dive into the last two decades of British administration in Ireland. So I was pleasantly surprised by just how much I learned from this book. Fanning concentrates on policy rather than administration, and on the debate in London rather than what was happening on the ground in Ireland – the Easter Rising, for instance, gets barely a page, but the British response gets most of a chapter. This is not a criticism – Fanning was entitled to write the book he wanted to write, and he was entirely correct to see a huge gap in the historiography of the period.

Things that I learned, roughly in order:

The Liberals from 1905 until the House of Lords crisis in 1909-10 were not just apathetic to Irish Home Rule, the leadership were actively hostile to the concept, and would not have ever legislated for it if they had not been backed into a corner by John Redmond and the Irish Nationalists (one of the latter’s few strategic successes).

At the same time, the Liberal government in 1912-14 knew that Home Rule could not be implemented in large parts of Ulster. Lloyd George and Churchill proposed excluding Ulster from home rule as early as February 1912. This was copper-fastened by the disloyal and treacherous actions of senior army officers, in particular Sir Henry Wilson and the brothers Hubert and Johnnie Gough, who undermined the elected government by conspiring with the opposition and with the military garrison in Ireland to provoke the Curragh mutiny in March 1914.

Therefore the counterfactual idea that, if there had been no 1916 Rising or War of Independence, a Home Rule Ireland would have eventually evolved into a Dominion-like status, is wrong. The only decisive factor affecting British policy, apart from the personal prejudices of political leaders, was violence or the threat of violence. The British folded on Ulster in 1914, and on independence for the rest of the island in 1921, purely because of the balance of coercive force. The British government’s own use of coercive force was poorly planned and disastrously implemented.

When it came to the Treaty negotiations on 1921, the British got entirely what they expected (apart from a late concession on tariffs). The Irish delegation were thoroughly unprepared, particularly on the issue of partition. Michael Collins then planned to destabilise and attempt to take control of Northern Ireland, but was distracted by the Civil War, and after that he was dead. London did nothing to protect Catholics in the North in the 1922-25 period (or for that matter Protestants in the South, though they were in less danger). The Boundary Commission, to which Fanning devotes an interesting epilogue, was designed to achieve nothing, and did so.

In general, both Asquith and Lloyd George were motivated (on Ireland at least) not by ideology but by the need to stay in power by satisfying their coalition partners, successively the Irish Nationalists and then the Conservatives. (Also Asquith was fundamentally a procrastinator who did not want to actually do anything.) The Conservatives were more ideologically Unionist than the Liberals; so too was the fledgling Labour party. Andrew Bonar Law, who actually became Prime Minister briefly in 1922-3, was Canadian by birth but an Ulster Presbyterian by background; however, once he came to power his first decision was to get the last stages of the Treaty enacted, just to get it over with.

There’s not a lot about women here, but a key figure is Frances Stevenson, Lloyd George’s secretary and lover. The smartest officials, notably General Macready who was the person who advised the British in 1921 that the military campaign in Ireland was lost, knew that Lloyd George never read his own paperwork and wrote to Stevenson instead. Not everyone knew this trick. Lloyd George and his key male adviser, Tom Jones, often had crucial conversations in Welsh, which nobody else in Downing Street understood.

The whole thing is eloquently written. It’s not short (361 pages) and it’s not for beginners (knowledge of the broad thrust of events is assumed) but it’s really interesting.

I found the account of the bitterly divided 1912-14 government, publicly committed to a policy goal that had been wished on it from outside, and that few of its leaders really believed in, very reminiscent of the Brexit period. But the wider lesson, that most British prime ministers spend most of their political energy on simple day-to-day survival, has much broader relevance, and not just in the UK.

Anyway, this was a tremendously good read. You can get it here.

Doctor Who: A Fairytale Life, by Lilah Sturges, Kelly Yates and Brian Shearer

Second frame of third part:

Having finished the IDW Tenth Doctor comics last month, I’m into the Eleventh Doctor run; and rather than start at the beginning of a long narrative, I picked up this one-shot album from 2011 for a sample. The author, Lilah Sturges, is best known for collaboration with Bill Willingham on the Fables series and spinoffs; I was really into that, ten years ago or so, but drifted off once the main narrative ended.

This is an enjoyable enough fantasy-world-actually-a-theme-park story, with the Doctor and Amy liberating the oppressed. The art by Kelly Yates is seriously below par though, with Amy much more freckled than the real Karen Gillan and the Doctor often looking like someone else entirely. This was early in the Eleventh Doctor era, so perhaps the lead characters’ images were not well communicated to the artist, but it’s a barrier to enjoyment. There are some nice covers by Bill Willingham though. You can get it here.

Bechdel pass: Amy and Aurelia battle an evil robot together on page 48, and then review progress on page 56.

The Future, by Naomi Alderman

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Will, her late husband, sat in the wooden chair facing the lake view, watching her. He said: Tough decision?

I’m a fan of Alderman’s previous novels (The Power, Disobedience and a Doctor Who book, Borrowed Time), so was looking forward to this, a story of tech zillionnaires, apocalypse and survival. To be honest I was a little disappointed; I’m not especially interested in the cults of personality around Musk, Zuckerberg, etc, and a large part of the story evolves around equivalent characters and their entourages. There’s also an AI that is just smart enough to carry the plot forward, and a rather silly dénouement. But there are also some vivid character moments and strong descriptions of setting. So it’s entertaining, if not quite up to Alderman’s previous work. You can get it here.

Definite Bechdel pass, as two of the main characters are women in an on-off relationship with each other.

This was the very first book that I finished this year! So this is my first review to have the ‘bookblog 2024’ tag.

iLobby.eu, by Caroline de Cock

Second paragraph of third chapter:

In order to ensure that you adopt the most effective strategy, it is therefore critical to understand and master the EU legislative process. It is part of your 3Ps (People-Power-Procedures) and I have known several brilliant lobbying strategies failing because the intricacies of procedure were poorly addressed.

This is a book about lobbying in Brussels, published in 2010. As such it is somewhat out of date; the institutional rules have not changed much in that time, but the way things really operate has moved on a bit; and about a quarter of the book is dedicated to kindly explaining that social media actually matters and giving guidance on how you might dip your toe into it. Those were innocent days, in retrospect! (My good friend Jon Worth is mentioned, in the context of the doomed Citzalia project.)

I’m not sure why I got it when I did; I once had aspirations to write such a book myself, but I must say that seeing how quickly such a project could be overcome by events is a bit of a disincentive. Still, the description of the legislative and policy-making process is accurate and useful, and made me realise how much of it I have internalised in my 25 years working here. You can still get the book here.

This was the shorter of the two remaining books on my shelves acquired in 2017. Next is the last of those books, Rule of Law: A Memoir, by Glynnis Breytenbach. This was also the last book that I finished in 2023, so I’m two and a half weeks behind at the moment.

Monday reading

Current
Three Plays, by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart
The Dawnhounds, by Sasha Stronach

Last books finished
The Talons of Weng-Chiang, by Robert Holmes, edited by John McElroy
Murder in Mesopotamia, by Agatha Christie
Doctor Who and the Talons of Weng-Chiang, by Terrance Dicks
Strawberry and the Soul Reapers, by Tite Kubo
Babel, by R.F. Kuang
The Talons of Weng-Chiang, by Dale Smith
“The New Mother”, by Eugene Fischer

Next books
A Life in Questions, by Jeremy Paxman
“Georgia on my Mind”, by Charles Sheffield
Tintin au Pays de l’Or Noir, by Hergé

No comment

I signed off yesterday’s post saying that I hope to post analysis of the 2023 Hugo nomination statistics, which indeed went live within minutes of my making the post.

However, it’s clear from the published results and from the volume of commentary elsewhere that I can’t add anything helpful or useful to the discussion. I don’t have any more information than anyone else, and I need to concentrate on my responsibilities as WSFS DH for Glasgow 2024 and Hugo Administrator for Seattle in 2025.

So no comment it is.

BSFA Long Lists – the Goodreads / LibraryThing stats

The Long Lists for this year’s BSFA Awards are out, and provide much food for thought. We have a whole load of new categories this year, listed in a somewhat eccentric order on the official page (maybe that’s the constitutional order, I don’t know). As ever, I’ve run them through LibraryThing and Goodreads, to see how many people own each book on the former platform and have rated it on the latter; and I rank each section by the geometric average of the two ratings.

One thing I haven’t done this year is to look at the average ratings of each book on each system. This is simply because my time is limited; I’ve looked at around 200 books here, and am satisfied that the raw measure of penetration of the two systems gives a fair idea of how far they have percolated into the community and the wider public.

I didn’t look at Best Artwork, Best Short Fiction or Best Short Non-Fiction for this exercise; I assumed that none of the nominees in those categories would have been separately registered on LT or GR.

In the Best Audiobook category (strictly, Best Original Audio Fiction), there are 11 works on the longlist. Only one of them (The Downloaded, by Robert J. Sawyer) is owned by anyone of LibraryThing, and only two (The Downloaded, again, and The Dex Legacy by Emily Inkpen) have been rated by anyone on Goodreads. This is less than I would have expected; audiobook listeners are as assiduous about logging their consumption as are print or screen readers. I’m also disappointed not to see any of Big Finish’s output here; I can’t believe that I’m the only Big Finish fan who is also a BSFA voter (but I must admit that I myself did not actually get around to nominating).

The Best Fiction for Younger Readers long list has only 8 nominees, which is not very long. This is a bit surprising as that list has been reasonably well populated in the past. The 8 nominees, and the LT / GR rankings, are:

Title AuthorLTGR
SpellboundF.T. Lukens1775312
The Library of Broken WorldsAlaya Dawn Johnson60134
A Song of SalvationAlechia Dow23216
MindbreakerKate Dylan12194
City of Vicious NightClaire Winn6176
We Who Are Forged In FireKate Murray250
The Inn at the Amethyst LanternJ Dianne Dotson115
Vivi Conway and the Sword of LegendLizzie Huxley Jones059

There’s obviously a strong leader here. Also, I am really puzzled as to how the last book on the list has managed to pick up as many as 59 Goodreads ratings, without a single LibraryThing user acquiring it. It also seems to be selling well enough on Amazon. It may be that the author has made a bit of a push on GR, but I’m not sure if it’s such a good platform for YA marketing.

There are 29 long-listees for Best Shorter Fiction (there are 30 works on the official long list itself, but one has been listed twice). Five of them have not been published in standalone format and so the comparison with LT/GR stats isn’t really fair, but I list them below for completeness.

Title AuthorLTGR
The Scourge Between StarsNess Brown1302836
Rose/HouseArkady Martine821366
And Put Away Childish ThingsAdrian Tchakovsky441068
Emergent PropertiesAimee Ogden53527
The Navigating FoxChristopher Rowe42458
Hamlet – Prince of RobotsM. Darusha Wehm18144
The Iron ChildrenRebecca Fraimow1279
Pluralities Avi Silver783
I am AIAi Jiang3161
The Midas RainAdam Roberts551
A Necessary ChaosBrent Lambert634
The Book of GaherisKari Sperring1510
To The Woman in the Pink HatLaToya Jordan427
EuropaAllen Stroud236
MiasmaJess Hyslop227
Telling the BeesEmma Leadey66
Broken ParadiseEugen Bacon35
Hero’s ChoiceMerc Fenn Wolfmoor26
Off Time JiveA.Z. Louise21
The Panharmonion ChroniclesHenry Chebaane026
A Feast for FliesLeigh Harlen08
The Lies We Tell OurselvesL K Kitney06
Little NothingDee Holloway05
Where the God-Knives TreadA.L. Goldfuss10
Axiom of DreamsArula Ratnakar
DefectivePeter Watts
Land of The Awaiting BirthOghenechovwe Donald Ekpeki & Joshua Uchenna Omenga.
The Window in the ForestSeán Padraic Birnie
UndulationStephen Embleton

Again some strong leaders, one in particular, but the figures here are probably less meaningful than in the other categories because of the difference in place of publication.

There are 24 long-listees for Best Non-Fiction (Long).

Title AuthorLTGR
A City on MarsKelly and Zach Weinersmith1601116
Wish I Was HereM John Harrison41117
I Am the LawMichael Molcher12109
We’re Falling Through SpaceJ. David Reed283
Realms of Imagination: Essays from the Wide Worlds of FantasyTanya Kirk and Matthew Sangster136
Spec Fic for Newbies: A Beginner’s Guide to Writing Subgenres of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and HorrorTiffani Angus and Val Nolan711
The Weird Tales BoysStephen Jones89
Selected Nonfiction 1962-2007 J.G.. BallardEditor Mark Blacklock85
David Whitaker in an Exciting Adventure in TelevisionSimon Guerrier45
All These WorldsNiall Harrison44
A Traveller in Time: The Critical Practice of Maureen Kincaid SpellerNina Allan, editor26
Science Fiction Cinema in the Twenty-First Century: Transnational FuturesCosmopolitan Concerns33
Writing the Future editedDan Coxon and Richard V. Hirst42
Ex Marginalia: Essays on Writing Speculative Fiction by Persons of ColorChinelo Onwualu17
An Introduction to FantasyMatthew Sangster22
Fear of Seeing: A Poetics of Chinese Science FictionMingwei Song11
The Expanse ExpandedJamie Woodcock11
Ursula K. Le Guin’s A Wizard of EarthseaTimothy S Miller11
Destination Time TravelSteve Nallon & Dick Fiddy03
The Historical Dictionary of Fantasy LiteratureAllen Stroud01
Follow Me: Religion in Fantasy and Science Fiction Francesca T Barbini10
Blake’s 7 Production Diary Series AJonathan Helm00
Corroding the Now: Poetry + Science|SFFrancis Gene Rowe, Stephen Mooney, Richard Parker00
The Female Man: Eastercon talkFarah Mendlesohn

Once again, a very clear leader, but it’s striking how little penetration a lot of these have had. One of them is a lecture, so not surprisingly it has no owners on LT or GR. One has nobody rating it on GR, two have no owners on LT, and two more draw a blank on both. I guess that most SF fans read much more fiction rather than critique; I know I do.

I also think it would be helpful to know to what extent the administration of the awards is kept separate from the BSFA Committee; the Hugos make an explicit statement on this.

I feel the most uncomfortable about the Best Collection category, which is new this year. There are 51 nominees and 14 of them, more than a quarter, have no LibraryThing owners at all; four of those have nobody rating them on Goodreads either.

Title Author/EditorLTGR
Never Whistle at NightShane Hawk, Theodore C Van Alst Jr2364591
Hit Parade of TearsIzumi Suzuki60888
Ten PlanetsYuri Herrera46550
No One Will Come Back For UsPremee Mohamed38255
Drinking From Graveyard WellsYvette Ndlovu20159
Jewel BoxE. Lily Yu17135
New Suns 2Nisi Shawl2972
The InconsolablesMichael Wehunt11139
Multiverses: An Anthology of Alternate RealitiesPreston Grassman1686
A Taste of DarknessVarious6160
GunflowerLaura Jean McKay1075
Jackal, JackalTobi Ogundiran969
You Are My SunshineOctavia Cade1151
The Dead Man and Other StoriesGene Wolf1927
The Wolfe at the DoorGene Wolfe1334
Worlds Long LostChristopher Ruocchio651
PromiseChristi Nogle743
Best of British Science Fiction 2022Donna Scott1915
The Skin ThiefSuzan Palumbo450
The Shadow GalaxyJ Dianne Dotson334
Caged Ocean DubDare Segun Falowo811
Read, Scream, RepeatJennifer Killick171
Between Dystopias: The Road to AfropantheologyOghenechovwe Donald Ekpeki, Joshua Uchenna Omenga323
Like Smoke Like LightYukimi Ogawa416
Strange AttractorsJaine Fenn104
Judge Dredd: The Darkest Judge (graphic novel – collection of linked strips)Various127
Luminescent MachinationsRhiannon Rasmussen and dave ring39
Bioluminescent: A Lunarpunk AnthologyJustine Norton-Kerston210
Rosalind’s Siblings: Fiction and Poetry Celebrating Scientists of Marginalized GendersBogi Takács36
Embroidered WorldsValya Dudycz Lupescu, Olha Brylova, and Iryna Pasko121
Eclectic Dreams: A Milford AnthologyVarious25
Infinite Constellations: An Anthology of Identity Culture and Speculative ConjunctionsKhadijah Queen and Kiini Ibura Salaam24
Writing the FutureDan Coxon and Richard V. Hirst42
Where Rivers Go To DieDilman Dila15
Michael Butterworth – Complete Poems 1965-2020Michael Butterworth22
Rhapsody of the SpheresJuliana Rew22
Mothersound: The Sauútiverse AnthologyEdited by Wole Talabi21
Have You Seen the Moon Tonight? & Other RumorsJonathan Louis Duckworth011
Best of World SF: Volume 3Lavie Tidhar06
Extracting HumanityStephen Oram05
Fighting for the Future: Cyberpunk and Solarpunk TalesPhoebe Wagner05
Year’s Best African Speculative Fiction 2022Oghenechovwe Donald Ekpeki, Eugen Bacon, Milton Davis04
Twelve All in Dread: The Twelfth Witch and Other StoriesJuliana Rew04
Wolves and GirlsMaria Haskins04
Languages of WaterEditor, Eugen Bacon03
Indie YA BitesVarious02
Guerrilla Mural of A Siren SongErnest Hogan01
Beyond BetweenDavid Viner00
Corroding the NowFrancis Gene-Rowe, Stephen Mooney and Richard Parker00
Dark Stars: Sci-Fi Horror DrabblesEric Fomley00
Simultaneous Times Vol.3Jean-Paul L. Garnier00

I don’t really know how useful a long-list of such length can be, when it includes so many candidates who have little traction. I appreciate that awards can call attention to otherwise overlooked work, but a) I’m not convinced that an award decided by popular vote, as the BSFA and Hugo Awards are, is the best vehicle for doing that and b) this is best done with a short list, not a long list!

Also a little surprised to note a couple of crossovers with Best Collection, but maybe the shortlisting process will sort that out.

Finally, Best Novel. This long list is very long, at 65 nominees. Only two have slipped past LibraryThing users, and all of them have been rated by at least a couple of Goodreads users. So it’s relatively robust, though with a couple of crossovers with Best Shorter Fiction which again presumably the shortlisting will sort out. There’s certainly some attractive titles here, and indeed two books that I have actually read, unlike any of the other categories. 65 is shorter than last year’s 68, or the previous year’s 74; it’s still very long though.

TitleAuthorLTGR
YellowfaceR.F. Kuang1571306112
Starling HouseAlix E Harrow79746020
The Adventures of Amina al-SirafiShannon Chakraborty96932188
Starter VillainJohn Scalzi60424312
Witch KingMartha Wells78612949
Translation StateAnn Leckie3857137
The Narrow Road Between DesiresPatrick Rothfuss2549817
Some Desperate GloryEmily Tesh4125807
The Sinister Booksellers of BathGarth Nix3024476
The FutureNaomi Alderman2086112
Lords of UncreationAdrian Tchaikovsky1547437
Mimicking of Known SuccessesMalka Older2604082
BridgeLauren Beukes8611231
Titanium NoirNick Harkaway2004319
Infinity GateM.R. Carey1843429
In AscensionMartin MacInnes1553022
DragonfallL R Lam1832314
Sleep No MoreSeanan McGuire1222525
The First Bright ThingR. Dawson1512031
Malevolent SevenSebastien de Castell1022855
The Water OutlawsS.L. Huang1681393
JuliaSandra Newman1221717
Perilous TimesThomas D Lee1421438
The Surviving SkyKritika H. Rao1111266
Season of SkullsCharles Stross1011324
The Archive UndyingEmma Mieko Camden1261011
The Saint of Bright DoorsVajra Chandrasekera136931
Rose/HouseArkady Martine821366
Gods of the WyrdwoodR J Barker821035
The Death I Gave HimEm X. Liu681142
The Space Between UsDoug Johnstone401729
These Burning StarsBethany Jacobs75755
OrbitalSamantha Harvey61790
A Market of Dreams and DestinyTrip Gailey48523
The ValkyrieKate Heartfield41595
HopelandIan McDonald68319
More PerfectTemi Oh47383
Descendant MachineGareth L. Powell29591
The Fractured DarkMegan E. O’Keefe26644
Shigidi And The Brass Head Of ObalufonWole Talabi49329
The Circumference of the WorldLavie Tidhar40284
FrontierGrace Curtis13835
Cahokia JazzFrances Spufford46226
The InfiniteAda Hoffmann20232
The Master of SamarMelissa Scott23164
TalonsisterJen Williams17202
AirsideChristopher Priest22128
ConquestNina Allan24114
Hel’s EightStark Holborn17148
The Green Man’s QuarryJuliet McKenna11157
HIMGeoff Ryman1889
A Woman of the SwordAnna Smith Spark14114
Creation NodeStephen Baxter13119
Warrior of the WindSuyi Davies Okungbowa11120
A Second Chance For YesterdayR.A. Sinn10113
OneEve Smith3212
RefractionsMV Melcer789
LambMatt Hill373
Mother SeaLorraine Wilson146
The Pollutant SpeaksAlex Cochran311
All the Hollow of the SkyKit Whitfield215
The Disinformation WarSJ Groenewegen25
InkbloomE.D.E. Bell32
Prompt ExcursionLewis S Kingston011
The Red HairbandCatherine Greene03

One of the two books I have read from this list is Yellowface by R.F. Kuang, which is way out in front of the field with more Goodreads ratings than the other 64 combined and a smaller but still substantial lead on LibraryThing. I really don’t think that Yellowface is SF; it’s very much rooted in the present day, with no innovations of technology or weird magical stuff (the narrator has a couple of visions of a dead friend, but puts them down to stress). It’s not even about SF; the narrator writes a fantasy novel, but it’s a less important thread of the plot. I think that the BSFA Awards have missed a trick by not nominating Kuang previously; I think that she’s a great writer; and I think that Yellowface is an excellent book. But if it does get shortlisted, I won’t be voting for it, because I think that the BSFA Award for Best Novel should go to a work of SF.

(The other book I’ve read is The Future, by Naomi Alderman, which I also enjoyed.)

Doing all of this has been displacement activity as I eagerly anticipate the release of the nomination stats from last year’s Chengdu Worldcon; however I have to go out shortly for the rest of the evening, so my usual analysis will be tomorrow at the earliest.

Marking Time, by Elizabeth Jane Howard

Second paragraph of third chapter (a very long ‘un):

‘Look after Zoë for me,’ he had said the night before he went, which really was a funny way round. After all, who was the stepmother? But sh couldn’t imagine him saying, ‘Look after Clary for me.’ She rather doubted whether Zoe had ever been asked to look after anybody. It might be a good idea to give an only medium-demanding animal for her next birthday to get her started on looking after something – or else her baby was in for a rather rotten time. (Of course, it was Ellen who really looked after all of them.) At Sports Day at his school, Neville had even pretended he hardly knew her. ‘You’ve hurt her feelings, you fool,’ Clary had hissed at Neville when they were meant to be getting plates of strawberries for the grown-ups in the tea tent. ‘Well, she hurt mine wearing that silly fur fox round her neck. If you ak me, that’s what feelings are for,’ he added while he skilfully transferred some better strawberries to the plate he had chosen. He had grown a lot, but his front teeth looked far too large for him and he had spent a lot of the Christmas holidays up trees that Lydia was afraid to climb. He didn’t seem to make any great friends at his school and he loathed games. His asthma was much better, but the night before Dad went, he quarrelled with everyone, drank what Emily said was the best part of her bottle of cooking sherry, unpacked his father’s suitcase, threw everything into the bath and turned on both taps. Dad found him and they had a sort of fight but in the end he was crying so much that Dad just carried him off to his room and they spent a long time alone together. He had asthma all that night, and Ellen stayed up with him because Dad had to be with Zoë because she was so upset. took after Nev, won’t you,’ he’d said to Clary next morning. ‘He kept saying last night that now he’d have nobody, and I kept telling him he had you.’ He’d looked so grey and tired, that she couldn’t say how much she minded his going, couldn’t say, ‘And who do you think I’ll have?’ or anything selfish like that because she could see that some kinds of love simply wore him out, so she just made her face smile and said ‘Yes, I will.’ He smiled back at her and said, ‘That’s my Clary,’ and asked her to come to the station with him. ‘Zoë doesn’t feel up to it,’ he said. Neville had gone to school as usual, and Tonbridge had driven them to Battle; she’d waited on the platform with Dad with nothing left to say and the train coming in was a relief. ‘Don’t wear any of those wet vests,’ she’d said as the most grown-up thing she could think of, at the end. ‘No, no. I’ll make His Majesty dry them for me personally,’ he’d said, bent to kiss her and got onto the train. He waved until he was out of sight and she’d walked slowly back to the car where Tonbridge was waiting, and got into the back and sat stiffly upright. Once, she saw Tonbridge looking at her in the driving mirror, and in Battle he stopped and went into a shop and came out with a bar of milk chocolate which he gave her, and although she loathed milk chocolate, this was a considerable kindness. She started to thank him and then had to pretend that she had a bad cough. He drove her back to Home Place without talking, but when she got out of the car, he said, ‘You’re a little soldier, you are,’ and smiled, so that she could see his black tooth next to his gold one.

I’m very much enjoying Howard’s Cazalet books, so much so that I’ve promoted them into a to-read list of their own for the New Year. Marking Time is the second of the series, set a year after the first, and concentrating very much on three teenage Cazalet girls, whose fathers are brothers. But it’s now war time – the book starts in September 1939 and ends with Pearl Harbour in December 1941, so it covers a long and crucial period of the girls’ lives; Louise, an aspiring actress, whose father is abusive; Clary, an aspiring writer, whose father goes missing after Dunkirk; and sensitive Polly, whose mother is very ill though nobody will admit it. Between the lines (and not only there) is a thoughtful reflection on the roles of women in English society of the time.

The cast of characters is huge – the family tree at the start lists eighteen living Cazalet relatives, and there are a half dozen more who get at least some viewpoint time – lovers, servants, in-laws. But Howard keeps them all under control, and although we know that parts of this are based on her own life, it doesn’t come across didactically. There is a minor twist at the end of the book which made me gasp, but in any case I would have been impatient for the next instalment; some very tempting plot lines have been set up. I’ll get to it soon enough! Meanwhile you can get Marking Time here.

I should say also that I am hugely enjoying the BBC Radio 4 dramatisation from 2012-2014, narrated by Penelope Wilton (Prime Minister Harriet Jones in Doctor Who). But annoyingly when I clicked through to the relevant page on the BBC website I got a couple of big spoilers for later volumes in the series, so I should have stuck with the audiobook on its own. You can get all twelve and a half hours here.

This was my top unread book by a woman and my top unread non-genre book. Both of those lists have now been drastically inflated by Christmas presents, and the next on each are Babel, by R.F. Huang, and Yellowface, also by R.F. Huang. But I’ve split off the Cazalets into their own stream.

Emotional Chemistry, by Simon Forward

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Even in retreat. Chased by the chuff and crack of a line of French muskets.

This is an Eighth Doctor novel which I read back in 2015, at a time when I was slacking on my bookblogging and didn’t get around to writing it up. I came back to it last month because part of it is set in the year 2024 in Russia, where the Doctor’s companion Fitz Kreiner finds himself isolated while the Doctor and the other companion Trix McMillan zoom off to the year 5000 and to 1812 respectively. To be honest there is little here to differentiate the Russia of 2024 from the Russia of 2002 when the book was written, and if it weren’t for the back cover explicitly mentioning 2024 you would tend to think it was set in or very soon after the year of publication. I’m afraid I was not terribly excited by the plot, with a McGuffin and a time-travelling entity looking for it, but there are some pleasing references to Magnus Greel from The Talons of Weng-Chiang. You can get it here.

The New Machiavelli, by H. G. Wells

Second paragraph of third chapter:

School became a large part of the world to me, absorbing my time and interest, and I never acquired that detailed and intimate knowledge of Penge and the hilly villadom round about, that I have of the town and outskirts of Bromstead.

I’m gradually working my way through the novels of H.G. Wells, from the most famous to the most obscure, and am now about half-way. This is one of his longer works, whose protagonist emerges from the heart of the middle classes to a Cambridge education, election as a young Liberal MP in the 1906 landslide, and then defects to the Conservatives as a radical new thinker, and also abandons his long-suffering wife for a younger and keener admirer. That last bit, if not the rest, is very clearly drawn from Wells’ own experience, and the emotional passages are poignantly drawn, even if we can’t always sympathise much with the choices made by Wells’ hero.

The political parts, however, are crashingly dull in places; the world has moved on a lot from the hot topics of political debate in 1910, and I can’t believe that Wells’ writing on this was a really attractive feature of the book when it first came out. Of the political issues that we do remember from that time, the suffragette movement is mentioned only as background colour, and Ireland not at all. Wells may perhaps have been hoping to shift the political debate with his fiction, but contemporary reaction seems to have concentrated on the scandalous sex in this novel. (Which as usual is discreetly off-stage.) There’s also a frankly nasty portrait of Beatrice and Sydney Webb, which must have annoyed their many mutual friends.

You can get it here. Next in my sequence of Wells reading is The Wheels of Chance.

In Xanadu, by Lavie Tidhar

Second paragraph of third section:

‘Nila? Nila!’

A very short story submitted to the 2020 Hugo packet by Jonathan Strahan as part of his contribution for Best Editor, Short Form. A vivid vignette of a soldier defending her position, protecting exiled AI’s on Titan. I guess my only complaint is that it is very short indeed. It’s a pity that Tidhar has not written any more in this setting. (So far.) But you can get it here.

Monday reading

Current
The Talons of Weng-Chiang, by Robert Holmes, edited by John McElroy
Babel, by R.F. Kuang
Strawberry and the Soul Reapers, by Tite Kubo

Last books finished
The Dark Queens, by Shelley Puhak
Attack on Thebes, by M.D. Cooper (did not finish)
Blackpool Revisited, by John Collier
Vincent and the Doctor, by Paul Driscoll
Tristram Shandy, by Laurence Sterne
Yellowface, by R.F. Kuang

Next books
Three Plays, by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart
Doctor Who and the Talons of Weng-Chiang, by Terrance Dicks
The Dawnhounds, by Sasha Stronach

Prague

Accommodation: Hotel Grand Majestic Plaza
Friday dinner: Kantýna, lots of protein
Saturday lunch: Malostranská beseda, hearty Czech fare
Saturday dinner: K – The Two Brothers, very decent Indian
Sunday coffee: Cafe Cafe, did the needful
Sunday lunch: Iveta Fabešova (Werichova vila), nutritious and not too heavy

A slightly belated wedding anniversary weekend in Prague, taking Friday off to explore the city. Just a few impressions:

The astronomical clock

Sadly, not allowed to take pictures of the tomb of Tycho Brahe.

The Kafka monument
Jan Hus getting burned at the stake, in the Bethlehem Chapel where he preached
On the Charles Bridge
The Church of St Nicholas, putting the “rock” into “Baroque”
Tomas G Masaryk and the city
A rather odd art installation in a cellar, dedicated to Kafka
The old Jewish cemetery

The exhibition of children’s drawings from Terezín was heart-breaking.

Disturbing babies by David Černý at the Kampa Museum
Also in the Kampa Museum, impressive collection of art by Frantisek Kupka.

We would happily go back!

Books of 1974, 1924 and 1874

It’s still January, and time to look at the books of 50, 100 and 150 years ago. I have identified the most popular books published in 1974, 1924 and 1874, and ranked them by the average of their Goodreads and LibraryThing ratings, taking the top 20, top 15 and top 10 respectively. This doesn’t say anything about literary merit, it’s just a metric of the books owned on the main online personal catalogue sites, and maybe an indication of staying power (or visibility in literature courses).The results are as follows:

1974LTGR
1Where the Sidewalk Ends, by Shel Silverstein 13,5241,373,526
2Carrie, by Stephen King14,250700,238
3Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, by Robert M. Pirsig18,546227,974
4The Forever War, by Joe Haldeman9,256163,988
5The Dispossessed, by Ursula K. Le Guin10,495121,280
6Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, by John le Carré8,27193,011
7The Killer Angels, by Michael Shaara8,62785,212
8Helter Skelter, by Vincent Bugliosi4,881144,351
9Jaws, by Peter Benchley3,935160,825
10The Mote in God’s Eye, by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle6,22969,423
11All the President’s Men, by Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward4,58454,323
12The Chocolate War, by Robert Cormier4,86544,647
13Alive, by Piers Paul Read2,32374,857
14Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said, by Philip K. Dick4,21840,542
15Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, by Annie Dillard5,37026,755
16Centennial, by James Michener2,96742,895
17There’s a Wocket in my Pocket, by Dr. Seuss3,70833,724
18Blubber, by Judy Blume3,49735,452
19If Beale Street Could Talk, by James Baldwin2,02557,700
20The Power Broker, by Robert Caro2,81320,806

To my surprise, I had never heard of Shel Silverstein or of his poetry collection for children which tops this particular poll. I guess he didn’t manage to cross the Atlantic (just the word “sidewalk” would be a barrier). If you don’t know the title poem, here it is:

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

The USA’s best-selling book of 1974 was Centennial, by James Michener, which has slipped to 16th place here.

All originally published in English; 19/20 by white folks; 17/20 by men; 6 non-fiction; 5 sf/horror; 5 adult fiction other than sf/horror (counting Jaws); 2 YA novels; Dr Seuss; and Silverstein (but it is top).

1924LTGR
1The Box-car Children, by Gertrude C. Warner8,631132,621
2A Passage to India, by E. M. Forster12,25479,260
3We, by Yevgeny Zamyatin8,26594,910
4The Magic Mountain, by Thomas Mann9,41448,315
5The Man in the Brown Suit, by Agatha Christie3,424109,435
6Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair, by Pablo Neruda3,08370,399
7Poirot Investigates, by Agatha Christie3,41762,649
8When We Were Very Young, by A. A. Milne5,38925,479
9Billy Budd, by Herman Melville1,96717,637
10The King of Elfland’s Daughter, by Lord Dunsany2,2447,569
11So Big, by Edna Ferber97310,607
12A Hunger Artist, by Franz Kafka38817,659
13Naomi, by Jun’ichirō Tanizaki9377,071
14Skylark, by Dezső Kosztolányi5972,783
15The Three Hostages, by John Buchan5511,161

Again, I had not heard of the top book on this list, and again it’s an American children’s classic, the first in a long series.

I had some tricky boundary cases here. In the end I disqualified The Collected Emily Dickinson (material not first published in 1924) and “The Most Dangerous Game” by Richard Connell (not a book), and I decided that most people mean Hemingway’s 1925 volume In Our Time rather than the different and shorter 1924 collection with the same title. I allowed Billy Budd, even though it was first published in 1924 as part of a volume of Melville’s collected writings, because it has a long subsequent history of standalone publishing. (Melville had died in 1891, a third of a century earlier.)

The USA’s top-selling book of 1924 in 1924 was Edna Ferber’s So Big, in 1th place here.

9/15 written in English, two in German, one each in Spanish, Japanese, Hungarian and Russian. NB that We was first published in English translation; the Russian original was not published until 1952.

14/15 by white folks; 11/15 by men (two books by Agatha Christie, two by other women).

8 adult non-sf novels, 2 sf/fantasy, 2 children’s books, 2 short fiction collections and one poetry collection.

1874
1Far from the Madding Crowd, by Thomas Hardy11,152151,007
2The Mysterious Island, by Jules Verne (1874-75 serialisation)4,66153,410
3The Way We Live Now, by Anthony Trollope (1874-75 serialisation)2,80213,156
4Ninety-Three, by Victor Hugo1,1185,591
5The Temptation of Saint Anthony, by Gustave Flaubert9382,995
6Pepita Jiménez, by Juan Valera5062,198
7The Three-cornered Hat, by Pedro Antonio de Alarcón4431,642
8The Conquest of Plassans, by Émile Zola3681,812
9The Hand and the Glove, by Machado de Assis1701,538
10Zaragoza, by Benito Pérez Galdós76530

This time I have indeed heard of the top book on the list; indeed, it’s the only one of them that I have read. There’s also a clear ranking in that LT and GR both agree on the top six and what order they come in.

Again, some boundary cases. Phineas Redux and Lady Anna, both by Anthony Trollope, were serialised from 1873-74 so I count them in the earlier year. The great Australian novel For the Term of His Natural Life, by Marcus Clarke, was serialised in 1870-72. Middlemarch was first published in a single volume in 1874, but it had been out for some time.

10/10 by men (top books from this year by women are Johnny Ludlow, by Ellen Wood, and Recollections of a Tour Made in Scotland, A. D. 1803, by Dorothy Wordsworth, who had died in 1855). 9/10 by white folks (Machado de Assis was the grandson of slaves).

You could count The Mysterious Island as sf, but the others are all mundane novels.

4 in French, 3 in Spanish, 2 in English, 1 in Portuguese.

So, perhaps a little reading project there, once the Hugos are over.

Lunar Descent, by Allen Steele

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Two strokes of lightning split the black night sky above Boston simultaneously. One hit somewhere in Dorchester, in the no-man’s-land where even the street gangs had fled from the thunderbolts and the cold, driving rain, taking shelter in the doorways of barricaded stores and housing projects; the other was its reflection, mirrored in the titanic glass wall of the Sony Tower, rising three hundred stories above the uptown streets, a black megalith that dwarfed the architectural Brahmins of yesteryear, the Hancock Building and the Pru.

This is the first novel by Allen Steele that I have read in full – I read the two sections of Coyote that were Hugo finalists, but never sat down to read the full thing. I confess that I got it purely because it is set in 2024, 33 years after the publication date of 1991. The world is not so different from the present day except that there is a functioning lunar industrial colony, churning out special components for Earth’s booming electronics industry. The colony is badly run, and our protagonist, a disgraced former astronaut with addiction problems, is sent to sort things out. He is joined by a tough female NASA security agent and a hacking genius who specialises in undetectable electronic crime. It’s rather a good romp, inevitably reminiscent of The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, but from a rather more obviously left-wing point of view (and I’m not saying that is a bad thing). You can get it here.

Bee Quest, by Dave Goulson

Second paragraph of third chapter:

It seemed to me that the changes that have occurred to the landscape in Britain are so profound that, even in the relatively unspoiled fragments of habitat, perhaps all that remains is a pale shadow of their former natural glory. It is hard to know for sure. Without a time machine, we can never really know what it would have been like to be a naturalist rambling through the British countryside in the eighteenth or nineteenth centuries, other than by reading their books and notes. We might infer from the fact that there are old recipes for cowslip wine – which require as the first step the collecting of two buckets full of cowslip flowers – that they were once much more common than they are now, but we can’t know how common, or how abundant the bees were that visited them, or how numerous the worms that burrowed beneath their roots. This said, it occurred to me that there might be a way of gaining an insight into what Britain used to be like – by going to Eastern Europe. I had heard that in parts of Eastern Europe agricultural systems remained little changed, having escaped the drive for increased yield that afflicted Britain from the Second World War onwards, and which was subsequently driven throughout Western Europe by the Common Agricultural Policy’s labyrinthine and often perverse system of subsidies for farm ‘improvement’.

A heartfelt and passionate book about bumble bees, and how the destruction of the traditional landscape in the name of agricultural productivity has made us all poorer. Goulson is dedicated to the study of bees, and goes all over the world to find them (there’s a particularly vivid section in Argentina). He conveys well the frustrations of research on small, fragile and often hostile invertebrates, and the grim situation of species disappearing from the face of the planet before they have been recorded. Now that he mentions it, isn’t it weird that bats are strongly protected by the law when other animals (less cute perhaps) are not? This is an eloquent call for more thought about and care of our natural heritage, and you can get it here.

I’m glad to say that we have a wildlife-friendly garden here, and we do see bumble bees buzzing around in the summer. I’ll take a closer look this year.

This was my top unread book acquired in 2017, and the non-fiction book which had lingered longest on my shelves. Next on both of those piles, and last in my 2017 intake, is Rule of Law by Glynis Breitenbach; one more to go before that.

A Long Day in Lychford, by Paul Cornell

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Marcin had been yelling questions at her, only about half of them in English. What were they running from? It hurt! He got to the point of actually fighting her off, and so, finally, she’d been forced to drop him. Now here they were, on a slight rise among some close trees, which Autumn hoped might give her some idea of when the thing approached. Marcin was lying on the ground screaming insults at her in Polish, and she was looking around, trying to watch out of the corner of her eyes. Which was really pretty bloody difficult. It kept making you want to just keep turning your head.

Third in the series of Lychford books by Paul Cornell, this is a rare case of a fantasy novel addressing Brexit. The magical women of Lychford are dealing with the internal consequences of the referendum, prejudice against foreigners and people of colour, and at the same time an eruption of danger from the much older inhabitants of their space. I see a lot of Lychford fans were not wowed by it, but I found it a thoughtful reflection on difficult political circumstances. You can get it here.

This was my top unread book acquired in 2020. Next on that list is The Dawnhounds, by Sasha Stronach.

The Haunting of Villa Diodati, by Philip Purser-Hallard

I was lucky enough to watch this episode at Gallifrey One in 2020, and wrote then:

I’ll always remember The Haunting of Villa Diodati for the circumstances in which I first saw it, packed into the biggest hall in the Los Angeles airport Marriott with a thousand other fans, whose reactions were so voluble (and positive) that I needed to watch it again when I got home. It’s not the first Who story with Mary Shelley and a Cyberman, which is a really obvious pairing. But it looked good, sounded good, and more or less made sense both times I watched it. See John Connors here and Darren Mooney here.

Rewatching again for this post, I wasn’t quite so sure if it all made sense; it felt like there was a lot of act-ING and not a lot of character development, and the plot was a fairly standard alien intrusion tale. But perhaps that’s because my standards had been raised by the return of RTD and the Fourteenth Doctor (I was watching in the middle of last month, before the Christmas episode). Anyway, it still evokes happy memories of February 2020, just before the world changed.

Philip Purser-Hallard has produced a longish Black Archive on the story, and I am not sure if it is entirely to the point. The introduction says that the themes he will look at are darkness and light, the Frankenstein story and parenthood.

The first chapter, “‘This Night, June 1816′” looks at other fictional treatments of the writing of Frankenstein, and other historical Doctor Who stories. Purser-Hallard makes the interesting point that “The Haunting of Villa Diodati is unique in Doctor Who to date, in that every speaking (or crying) character who does not also appear in other episodes is based on a historical person”.

The second and longest chapter, “‘I Detest All Gossip, You Understand'”, looks in considerable detail at the family backgrounds of every single historical character in the story. It is here where I became uneasy; a Doctor Who episode is not a history lesson, it is an entertainment, and it seems to me a categorical error to grade THoVD against historical accuracy, especially since we know that it consciously diverges (in that the Frankenstein story is not actually written by Mary Shelly “on time”).

The third and shortest chapter, “‘Save the Poet, Save the Universe'”, looks at the use of Percy Shelley’s poetry in the episode to characterise Ashad the Cyberman, and Byron’s to characterise the Doctor. Its second paragraph is:

Many of Percy’s poems were profoundly political, and have been taken as inspiration by radical movements from the Chartists to the Arab Spring, by way of Tiananmen Square2. Jeremy Corbyn, the leader of the UK’s opposition at the time of the episode’s writing, filming and broadcast, was fond of quoting his response to the Peterloo Massacre, ‘The Masque of Anarchy’ (written in 1819 but not published until 1832) at Labour Party rallies, and the line ‘Ye are many, they are few’ was credited with inspiring the party’s 2017 election slogan, ‘For the many, not the few’3. While it might be extreme to state, as the Doctor goes on to, that Ryan, Yaz and Graham ‘will not exist’ if Percy’s writings after June 1816 are erased from history, their world would indeed be detectably different if they were. As she insists, ‘Words matter.”
2 Mulhallen, Jacqueline, ‘For the Many, Not the Few: Jeremy Corbyn and Percy Bysshe Shelley’.
3 Londoner, The, ‘Londoner’s Diary: Jeremy Corbyn’s Romantic Notions Traced Back to Percy Shelley’; Shelley P, Selected Poems and Prose, p368.

The fourth chapter, “‘Something to Awaken Thrilling Horror'”, looks at the Gothic in Doctor Who. invoking Buffy and several previous Black Archives.

The fifth chapter, “‘That Writing Thing'”, looks at the parallels between Ashad and the monster in Frankenstein, and tries to illuminate this with the concepts of creation and parenthood.

The sixth and last chapter, “‘This World Doesn’t End in 1816′”, looks at darkness, light and the apocalypse in this story and in Chibnall-era Doctor Who.

Appendices illustrate the family trees of the Byrons, Godwin and Shelleys, and the historical timeline of events.

It will be apparent that I didn’t get as much out of this Black Archive as I have from some in the series. I don’t feel that the story can quite bear the analytical weight that is placed on it here, and I’m not comfortable with an interpretation that suggests that a deep knowledge of the shifting relationships in the Byron/Shelley/Clairmont household is necessary for a full appreciation of the story. But others may find it more useful. You can get it here.

The Black Archives
1st Doctor: The Edge of Destruction (67) | Marco Polo (18) | The Aztecs (71) | 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 Happiness Patrol (68) | Silver Nemesis (75) | 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) | Silence in the Library / The Forest of the Dead (72) | Midnight (69)
11th Doctor: The Eleventh Hour (19) | Vincent and the Doctor (57) | The Pandorica Opens / The Big Bang (44) | A Christmas Carol (74) | 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) | Under the Lake / Before the Flood (73) | 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) | Ascension of the Cybermen / The Timeless Children (70) | Flux (63)

Monday reading

A new year, and a new day for my weekly roundup – and in fact I will shift to Tuesdays from March.

Current
Tristram Shandy, by Laurence Sterne
Blackpool Revisited, by John Collier

Last books finished
The Future, by Naomi Alderman
A Fairytale Life, by Lilah Sturges et al
Fatal Path, by Ronan Fanning
Rule of Law: A Memoir, by Glynnis Breytenbach
The Beautifull Cassandra, by Jane Austen
Anthro-Vision, by Gillian Tett

Next books
Attack on Thebes, by M.D. Cooper
Vincent and the Doctor, by Paul Driscoll
Strawberry and the Soul Reapers, by Tite Kubo

Jim Bennett, 1947-2023

I don’t intend for this blog to become a stream of obituaries, but I have just learned that Jim Bennett died last October. He was my supervisor and mentor for my Cambridge MPhil in the History and Philosophy of Science, and helped me over the intellectual hurdle into the humanities; in fact he probably gave me some of the best advice on writing I have ever received. He recommended me to Peter Bowler for the Belfast research assistantship which became my PhD, and was then the external examiner who gave me that PhD several years later.

He was tough but fair as a teacher. I remember a couple of teaching moments with him vividly: his class on how to use an astrolabe was masterfully clear, and postgraduate seminars featured Babbage’s original notes for the Difference Engine, and a 17th-century prism “as would have been used by Newton” which, as he eventually revealed, was in fact the actual prism that had been used by Newton. My career took a very different path in the end, but I will always be grateful for the early encouragement that he offered at the point that I seemed to be heading down an academic track.

Here he is in 2010, with his gentle Belfast accent, introducing the Oxford Mueum of the History of Science, which he moved to in 1994. He had cropped the Einstein-like shock of hair that I remember him having in Cambridge.

Thanks, Jim.

The 95 Best Picture Oscar winners: some statistics

So, I have now watched all 95 winners of the Best Picture Oscar. My preferences are clear, but I thought I might do a bit of comparison between them all.

Sources

28 (29.5%) are original stories written for the film, with little bearing on any other source. The first of these was the very first winner, Wings, and the last the most recent, Everything Everywhere All at Once. The one I liked most was An American in Paris, and the one I liked least (indeed, least of all the Oscar-winning films) was Platoon.

14 (14.7%) are based on earlier dramatic treatments, whether for the stage (all but two), television (once, Marty) or a direct remake of an earlier film (also once, CODA). The first of these was Cavalcade and the most recent CODA. I liked Casablanca the most – it’s my top Oscar-winning film overall – and Cavalcade the least. (I’m counting The Sound of Music, A Man for All Seasons and Oliver! here, because although the first two are based on history and the third on a novel, the films are directly adaptations of the stage plays.)

38 (40.0%) are adapted from written fiction – mostly novels, short fiction in five cases, and two epic poems (the sources of The Best Years of Our Lives and Braveheart). The first of these was All Quiet on the Western Front and the latest Slumdog Millionaire. I liked Schindler’s List most and Cimarron least.

Finally, 15 (15.8%) are filmic treatments of real events. The boundary is a little blurry here, but I am counting all dramatic treatments of non-fiction books which did not go through stage treatment, and also Spotlight and Green Book, which are dramatisations of real-life events The first was The Life of Emile Zola, and the most recent was Nomadland (which I am counting because although the film is clearly fictional, the book of the same name that it is based on is clearly not). Of these I liked The King’s Speech the most and Argo the least.

Time of setting

The punctuation points of history here are the two World Wars, and to a certain extent the Vietnam war and the turn of the millennium.

18 (18.9%) are clearly set entirely before the first world war. Two of those films are set during the US Civil War (Gone with the Wind and Dances with Wolves). To those 18 I would add My Fair Lady, because the King is clearly Edward VII, but not How Green Was My Valley – although the book is set in the late nineteenth century, the film feels more mid-twentieth.

Three (3.2%) are largely set during the First World War – Wings, All Quiet on the Western Front and Lawrence of Arabia – and several others straddle the war with more or less attention given to it: Cavalcade, Cimarron, The Last Emperor, Gandhi, The Great Ziegfeld..

13 (13.7%) are set between the wars, including How Green Was My Valley, for reasons given above, also Rebecca, which is based on a book published in 1938, and The Lost Weekend which is based on a novel set in 1936. This doesn’t count Cavalcade, Cimarron and The Great Ziegfeld, which all conclude in this period, or The Last Emperor and Gandhi, which continue. I guess I should also count half of The Godfather, Part II.

Roughly equal numbers are set before and after the Second World War. Seven (7.4%) are set in the Second World War directly. I would add Going My Way, which doesn’t mention the war but is clearly contemporary, and The Best Years of Our Lives, set in the immediate aftermath. Again, The Last Emperor and Gandhi continue through this period.

15 (15.8%) are largely set between the Second World War and the Vietnam War; also the chronologically later half of The Godfather, Part II. The Last Emperor and Gandhi also conclude during this period. Most of these are datable to a precise year.

Only three (3.2%) actually feature the Vietnam War, The Deer Hunter, Platoon and Forrest Gump, but of course it looms over the rest.

Another 12 (12.6%) are set in the last third of the twentieth century, and 13 (13.7%) are set in the twenty-first century. And The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King is set in a different Age entirely.

36 (37.9%) are set in more or less the present day, at the time of making. Another eight (8.4%) are set in identifiably the last decade (plus Cimarron and Cavalcade which both have most of the action earlier but end almost in the present day). Eleven (11.6%) are set between a decade and a quarter-century in the past (counting How Green Was My Valley, and stretching a a bit for Patton in 1970). Ten (10.5%) are set between a quarter-century and a half century before they were made, fourteen (14.7%) between a half century and a century before. There’s a jump between the 85 years of Titanic (1912-1997) and the 112 years if Unforgiven (1880-1992). Then there’s a steady progression to Ben-Hur (33 AD-1959). I find that I rate the contemporary settings slightly higher on average than the historicals.

Place of setting

It will not astonish you to learn that a clear majority of the Oscar-winners, 54 (56.8%) are set entirely or largely in the United States. Of those, 19 (20% of all winners, 35% of American ones) are set in New York and New Jersey, plus the start and end of Green Book and the end of It Happened One Night.

Another four and a half are set elsewhere in the North-East (Spotlight, The Departed and CODA in Massachusetts, and Rocky and half of The Deer Hunter in Pennsylvania). Still in the neighbourhood, The Shape of Water and much of The Silence of the Lambs are set in Maryland.

Ten (10.5%) are set broadly in the West; five in California, one each in Oregon (One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest), Wyoming (Unforgiven), Colorado (Dances with Wolves), Oklahoma (Cimarron) and on the open road (Nomadland). You could add a large part of Rain Man as well.

Nine (9.5%) are set in the South, counting The Greatest Show on Earth whose location is not specified but was filmed in Florida. Georgia is the most popular Southern state (Gone with the Wind, Driving Miss Daisy, part of Moonlight), followed by Texas (Terms of Endearment, No Country for Old Men) with Louisiana (12 Years a Slave), Mississippi (In the Heat of the Night) and a fictional state (All the President’s Men) all represented.

Of the major regions, the Midwest is least prominent with four and a half – the start of Rain Man, also The Best Years of Our Lives, The Sting, Ordinary People and, indeed, Chicago. Forrest Gump roams all over Lower 48 (as well as Vietnam). And then there’s Hawaii, with From Here to Eternity.

25 out of 95 are set in Europe. Nine of those are set entirely in England, and another two partly there (Chariots of Fire and Patton). Five are set in France, plus the other parts of Chariots of Fire and more parts of Patton. Two are set in Austria, with one each for Denmark (Hamlet), Germany (Grand Hotel), Poland (Schindler’s List), Scotland (Braveheart) and Wales (How Green Was My Valley), with maybe one and a half for Italy (Gladiator and parts of Patton and The English Patient).

Counting the films set in Asia is a bit blurry. As mentioned already, The Deer Hunter, Platoon and Forrest Gump all feature the Vietnam war. Moving east to west, Parasite is in Korea, The Last Emperor in China, The Bridge on the River Kwai in Myanmar, Gandhi and Slumdog Millionaire in India; and if we can include the Middle East, there’s Argo in Iran, The Hurt Locker in Iraq, Lawrence of Arabia in, er, Arabia and Ben-Hur in Palestine. That’s twelve-ish.

Two and a bit are in Africa – Out of Africa, Casablanca and parts of The English Patient.

That leaves one in the Pacific Ocean (Mutiny on the Bounty), one in the Atlantic (Titanic), one Around the World in Eighty Days, and one in Middle Earth.

So, the representative Oscar-winning film is adapted from written fiction, set in the USA (probably New York), around the time of the Second World War, set not in the present day but a couple of years earlier. That actually fits The Lost Weekend rather well; I ranked it 42nd of the 95 winners, very close to the middle, and I think it probably is a fairly good taster for the project of watching all of the Oscar winners. Not that I am necessarily recommending that as a course of action.

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)

Into the Unknown, eds. Laura Clarke and Patrick Gyger

Second paragraph of third chapter (“Children of Utopia”, by Andy Sawyer):

In science fiction, [Thomas] More’s island becomes another planet whose inhabitants are rewritten as aliens from other worlds; his criticism more secular in imagining a possible, if not probable, future. Although More did not invent the concept of the better world – isolated, ‘perfect’ societies are found in Chinese fables such as the 5th century Peach Blossom Spring, or the medieval European Land of Cockaigne where all material pleasures can be found – he gave us a word to articulate this concept. ‘Utopia’ means good place, but the pun in More’s Greek tells us that it means no place1. It exists in our imagination. Should we try and create it? Politicians and science fiction writers alike, being what they are, often end up creating a ‘bad place’: dystopia. The best science fiction addresses this tension: our desires for something different and better compete with fears of something much, much worse.
1 More’s invention of the word ‘Utopia’ is based on the Greek ou ‘not’+ typos ‘place’.

This is the souvenir book of an exhibition about science fiction in the Barbican in London which I went to in June 2017, and don’t seem to have written up at the time. It’s a really wonderful collection of sf art, mainly book covers with some magazine covers, comics and stills from films or TV, combined with some decent essays by the likes of Andy Sawyer, Tade Thompson, Susan Stepney and Bruce Sterling. I particularly appreciated the piece on Soviet science fiction by Alyona Sokolnikova. I’m afraid it is out of print, so no purchase link today.

Here’s a walkthrough of the exhibition in case you missed it:

I remember that at the exhibition itself I was particularly grabbed by Palestinian film-maker Larissa Sansour’s In the Future They Ate from the Finest Porcelain, which explores the intersection between sf, archaeology and politics, three subjects that greatly interest me. The full film (30 mins) is here, and this is a trailer:

This was the shortest unread book on my shelves acquired in 2017. Next on that pile is iLobby.eu, by Caroline de Cock.

Joan Urquhart, 1916-2023

On Christmas Day we lost my great-aunt, Joan Urquhart, who was born in Dublin in 1916 when it was still under British rule, and had an adventurous life. We had a big family gathering today to say goodbye to her in Bangor, Co Down, where she had lived for the last four decades. Coincidentally, today would have been the 104th birthday of her younger brother, who we lost in 2006.

The local newspaper ran a feature on her 107th birthday last June, reporting her reliance on the Guardian crossword to keep her mind active.

Her father, my great-grandfather, was one of the civil servants who transferred to the new Northern Ireland government when it was created in 1922. He also had a sideline in the performing arts, and Joan followed him into the new-fangled world of radio plays. Here is the Radio Times notice of her first appearance, in a show which was broadcast (probably live) on 26 January 1934, when she would have been 17. (I have checked with the BBC archives and sadly none of her performances survive.)

After school she trained as a domestic science / home economics teacher; married a Scottish soldier, Hamilton Urquhart; served with British forces in Italy in the Second World War; followed Hamilton to Germany and Cyprus (where her four children had to be brought to school under armed guard, during the EOKA uprising); and came back to Northern Ireland, where for much of my childhood her house was in the same block as ours with adjoining back gardens, so we saw a lot of her. Her sister, my grandmother, died twenty years before I was born, so she (and her mother, who lived to the age of 98) filled that gap to an extent.

The first photograph including both her and me was taken at my christening in 1967; she’s on the right in the blue hat. I’m sorry to say that the only people in the picture still living are me, my mother (behind me, no hat) and my second youngest aunt, in the pink dress (also no hat).

At this point she was an activist in the tourism sector; here she is trying to sell “Friendly Northern Ireland” to the Dutch in 1974. (A tough sell at the time, I suspect.)

Joan is third from the left.

She eventually moved to Bangor, where she ran a bed and breakfast until she was in her mid 80s. She and I did our German O-Levels on the same day, when I was 16 and she was 67; we both got A’s. (“Luckily,” as someone else said.) Two years later she did a French A-Level and got an A again. Twenty years later she did a German A-level, in her late 80s. Young F got to know her too; here he is on her 90th birthday, when he was not quite seven.

She was sharp, optimistic and humorous, and regaled us with anecdotes at her hundredth birthday party:

My first job was at a boarding school in Purley, in Surrey.
I had a strange incident there.
We used to go up to London to see the sights occasionally.
And I was waiting for somebody at the Piccadilly Hotel.
And she was late. I think she was Irish!
I got a bit fed up and started walking up and down the footpath.
And suddenly this young woman tapped me on the shoulder,
and she hissed in my ear, “Sister! Get off my beat!”
That was my first introduction to the seamy side.

Joan had four children, but no grandchildren; sadly her oldest daughter, on the left in the picture taken on her 100th birthday in 2016, predeceased her, but the others were able to spend time with her at the end.

F and I saw her last August, and she was in good form. But it was clear that her spirit was gently taking leave of her body, and I knew we would probably not see her again.

A lot of us gathered today to say goodbye to her, and a lot more were there in spirit. She touched many people’s lives for the better, and I am glad that I knew her. My thoughts are especially with her three children today and going forward.

Me with my mother, my son, three aunts, two uncles, three first cousins, seven first cousins once removed including Joan’s two living daughters, a second cousin and a couple of other halves.

Jaren van de olifant, by Willy Linthout

Second frame of third chapter:

An apartment block. A man is looking down from the roof at the outline of a human figure drawn outside the front door.

First published in 2009, this picked up the hat-trick of the three major prizes for comics in the Dutch-speaking world, the Bronze Adhemar, the Stripschapprijs and the Pix St-Michel (Dutch category). It’s an intense and moving portrait of a man coming to terms with his son’s suicide; his struggles with his marriage, his work, therapy, drugs, and his fantasies about his son’s survival.

Linthout has now expanded the original edition with two extra chapters (for a total of ten), and my hardcover copy also includes, as an appendix, an interview with the author and his therapist. One of the new chapters very consciously erodes the barriers between protagonist and author (they were slim anyway). It’s a gruelling read in places, but also has shafts of grim humour (there’s a particularly poignant scene around a book launch). Really recommended. You can get it here.

An Atlas of Irish History, by Ruth Dudley Edwards; and in search of W.H. Bromage

Second paragraph of third chapter:

The major engagements of the medieval period are. however, those of defenders against invaders. Most of them were fought in an attempt to prevent further Norman penetration of the country. The fact that the Irish succeeded in preventing the Normans from completely overrunning the country was due not only to their stout resistance, but also to the isolation of the invaders from their homeland and the impossibility of gaining sufficient reinforcements to maintain and consolidate their position. Additionally, the importation by the Irish of Scots mercenary soldiers called gallowglas (from gall óglach – foreign warrior) from the thirteenth century onwards, was to strengthen their resistance considerably. At first confined to Ulster, galloglas later spread throughout Ireland in the service of the great families. These mercenaries prolonged the life of the independent Gaelic kingdoms for more than two centuries after the defeat of Edward Bruce (14). Four centuries after the conquest the O’Neills and O’Donnells were still ruling most of Ulster according to the customs of their ancestors. It was not until their defeat in the Nine Years War (15) in 1603, that all of Gaelic Ireland finally fell to the invaders.

Here are the two maps, by W.H. Bromage, referred to above. I will have a lot more to say about the artist below.

I have known Ruth Dudley Edwards since 1989 or so; she was at school with one of my aunts, as it turns out, and her father was the historian Robin Dudley Edwards. I regret to say that I have stopped following her on social media; she is entitled to express her hardline conservative views, but I do not feel compelled to read them.

This book dates from half a century ago, when the world was a different place and Irish history was a different discipline. It’s a breezy summary of the main points of Irish history to date, concentrating on the medieval and early modern periods, and the maps, even though they would have been a bit old-fashioned even in 1973, illustrate the narrative.

But there are some odd omissions. After independence, Northern Ireland largely disappears from the narrative. (It gets seven pages in the second last chapter, and the Troubles get one line.) From my political perspective, it would have been interesting to see more mapping of election results across the whole period. The chapter on social change completely misses the elephant in the room, the role of the Catholic church in society.

There is a much newer edition, published in 2005 with contributions from Bridget Hourican, where I believe that these issues have all been addressed. I see reviewers complaining, however, that Bromage’s maps were retained despite not really being with the Zeitgeist; as I said, they look old-fashioned for 1973, let alone 2005 (or 2024). But you can get it here.

This was the non-fiction book that had lingered longest unread on my shelves. Next on that pile is Bee Quest, by Dave Goulson.

W.H. Bromage, who drew the maps, is credited with the illustrations for a number of similar books of the period, mostly published by Methuen, some by pretty big names: The Archaeology of Crete: an Introduction, by John D. Pendlebury (1939); The War in Burma, by Roy McKelvie (1948); Introducing Spain, by Cedric Salter (1954); In Search of London, by H.V. Morton (1956); An Atlas of World Affairs, by Andrew Boyd (1957); Frontiers and Wars, by Winston S. Churchill (1962); Pan-Africanism, by Colin Legum (1962); Survey of the Moon, by Patrick Moore (1963); The Sword-Bearers: Supreme Command in the First World War, by Corelli Barnett (1963); The American West, by John A. Hawgood (1967); An Atlas of African Affairs, by Andrew Boyd and Patrick van Rensburg (1970); and The Steel Bonnets: The Story of the Anglo-Scottish Border Reivers, by George MacDonald Fraser (1971). An Atlas of Irish History (1973) is the last book that I have found which credits him.

Roy McKelvie, writing in 1948, describes him as “Mr W.H. Bromage of the News Chronicle“. I’ve found a number of maps of the changing front lines of WW2 published by the News Chronicle and credited to “William Bromage”…

…and also a rather nice illustrated text of the Geneva Declaration on the Rights of the Child, signed by Eisenhower, Montgomery and Churchill and dated 1945.

A William Bromage is also credited with the maps in Small Boat Through France (1964) and Small Boat on the Thames (1966), both by Roger Pilkington. This must be the same person. That’s literally the only other certain information I have about him. Illustrating fourteen books in 34 years would hardly make you a living, so he must have been full-time with the News Chronicle until it was absorbed by the Daily Mail in 1960, and maybe stayed on after that.

Ancestry.com gives me half a dozen people called W.H. Bromage, with the W.H. short for “William Henry” in all cases, born in England in the first two decades of the twentieth century. The surname is concentrated in Herefordshire, Worcestershire and Warwickshire. He could, of course, easily have been born somewhere else entirely. I find a Detroit journalist of that name in the 1920s and 1930s, who could conceivably be the same person though it’s a bit of a shift. I also find a San Francisco journalist of the same name in the 1890s, and a reference in 1919 to “the renowned Anglo-Catholic artist, W.H. Bromage”, but neither of these can have been illustrating An Atlas of Irish History in 1973.

It is frustrating that I know almost nothing else about Bromage: he was clearly a man of talent, who captured the market in drawing maps for books about history and current affairs. It could be that this is a problem of Internet research, and that if I had access to a decent reference library in the UK I would find his biographical details really quickly. Or not; you never know what will survive.