Wednesday reading and April 2025 books

Read in the last week
Heroes and Monsters Collection, by Justin Richards et al
Service Model, by Adrian Tchaikovsky (did not finish)
What Feasts at Night, by T. Kingfisher
Monstress, Vol. 9: The Possessed, by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda (did not finish)
Doctor Who: Silver Nemesis, by Kevin Clarke
All American Boys, An Insider’s Look at the U.S. Space Program, by Walter Cunningham
Blue Remembered Hills, by Rosemary Sutcliff
Zeitgeber, by Greg Egan
The Maid and the Crocodile, by Jordan Ifueko
Nine Lives: In Search of the Sacred in Modern India, by William Dalrymple

(ten in total for the week, thanks to some short and unfinished books, and a relaxed birthday weekend)

April 2025 totals

Non-fiction 4 (YTD 22)
A Short History of Brexit, by Kevin O’Rourke
All American Boys, An Insider’s Look at the U.S. Space Program, by Walter Cunningham
Blue Remembered Hills, by Rosemary Sutcliff
Nine Lives: In Search of the Sacred in Modern India, by William Dalrymple

Non-genre 4 (YTD 17)
The Vegetarian, by Kang Han
Joan and Peter, by H.G. Wells
How Many Miles to Babylon, by Jennifer Johnston
Cutting for Stone, by Abraham Verghese

SF 16 (YTD 44)
The Mysterious Island, by Jules Verne
Sheine Lende, by Darcie Little Badger
The Vetting, by Michael Cassutt
The Birds, and other stories, by Daphne du Maurier
Ganny Knits a Spaceship, by David Gerrold
Alien Clay, by Adrian Tchaikovsky
The Tusks of Extinction, by Ray Naylor
The Feast Makers, by H.A. Clarke (did not finish)
Someone You Can Build a Nest In, by John Wiswell 
The Brides of High Hill, by Nghi Vo
Paladin of Souls, by Lois McMaster Bujold
Moonstorm, by Yoon Ha Lee
Service Model, by Adrian Tchaikovsky (did not finish)
What Feasts at Night, by T. Kingfisher
Zeitgeber, by Greg Egan
The Maid and the Crocodile, by Jordan Ifueko 

Doctor Who 3 (YTD 10)
Dragon’s Wrath, by Justin Richards 
Heroes and Monsters Collection, by Justin Richards et al
Doctor Who: Silver Nemesis, by Kevin Clarke

Comics 4 (YTD 12 )
It Came from Outer Space, by Tony Lee et al
The Hunger and the Dusk vol. 1, by G. Willow Wilson, Chris Wildgoose and Msassyk
The Deep Dark, by Molly Knox Ostertag 
Monstress, Vol. 9: The Possessed, by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda (did not finish)

8,700 pages (YTD 28,100)
13/31 (YTD 39/107) by non-male writers (Sutcliff, Kang, Johnston, Little Badger, du Maurier, Clarke, Vo, Bujold, “Kingfisher”, Ifueko, Wilson, Ostertag, Liu/Takeda)
7/31 (YTD 18/107) by non-white writers (Kang, Verghese, Little Badger, Vo, Lee, Ifueko, Liu/Takeda)
3/31 rereads (Paladin of Souls, Dragon’s Wrath, Doctor Who: Silver Nemesis)

251 books currently tagged unread, up 19 from last month (thanks to the Hugo packet), down 63 from April 2024

Reading now
Silver Nemesis, by James Cooray Smith
The Ministry of Time, by Kaliane Bradley
thirteen fourteen fifteen o’clock, by David Gerrold

Coming soon (perhaps)

Dead Man’s Hand, by Tony Lee et al 
Beyond the Sun, by Matthew Jones 
Doctor Who: Warrior’s Gate and beyond, by Stephen Gallagher 
Doctor Who: Logopolis, by Christopher H. Bidmead 
Logopolis, by Jonathan Hay

Coming of Age: The Sexual Awakening of Margaret Mead, by Deborah Blum 
Amnesty, by Lara Elena Donnelly 
Knowledgeable Creatures, by Christopher Rowe

City of Last Chances, by Adrian Tchaikovsky
Footnotes in Gaza, by Joe Sacco
Free: Coming of Age at the End of History, by Lea Ypi
The Water Outlaws, by S.L. Huang
A Restless Truth, by Freya Marske
The Burgundians: A Vanished Empire, by Bart van Loo
Ancient Paths, by Graham Robb
“The Faery Handbag”, by Kelly Link
Métal Hurlant Vol. 1: Le Futur c’est déjà demain, by Mathieu Bablet et al
Voyage to Venus, by C.S. Lewis
Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett
False Value, by Ben Aaronovitch
Prophet Song, by Paul Lynch
‘Salem’s Lot, by Stephen King

Paladin of Souls, by Lois McMaster Bujold

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Liss was clearly happier to be sent off to the stables to select the most suitable riding horse and baggage mule. One baggage mule. By midday Ista’s feverish single-mindedness resulted in both women dressed for the road, the horses saddled, and the mule packed. The dy Gura brothers found them standing in the cobbled courtyard when they rode through the castle gate heading ten mounted men in the garb of the Daughter’s Order, dy Cabon following on his white mule.

I got this almost as soon as it came out in 2004, and rather enjoyed it; but a minutely observed story of human nature, with a well-worked out system of gods and worshippers, a society where the social structure is Age of Chivalry but the landscape is the American West, and the boundary between life and death is a real feature that has to be navigated with great skill. It’s also nice to have protagonists who are middle-aged. You can get it here.

It is however very long, and I would not recommend reading it unless you first read The Curse of Chalion which establishes the parameters of the World of the Five Gods. The whole series won the second Hugo for Best Series, Bujold’s Vorkosigan Saga having won the first such award.

Back in the day, I actually rated this third of the five Hugo finalists that year, behind Singularity Sky by Charles Stross and Ilium by Dan Simmons.

I’m a fervent Bujoldian, and really like this book; I just happen to think the other two are slightly better. Bujold’s third fantasy novel, and her second in the world of The Curse of Chalion, the action is set in a much smaller scale than the continent-spanning action of its predecessor; the characters are beautifully drawn, in a world where theology is an applied science; and it’s nice to have an adventure and romance story whose character is actually middle-aged.

I regret my preference for Ilium in retrospect, but I still feel that the win for Paladin of Souls was more of a reward for a body of work than for new and exciting writing.

It was the only book on both the Hugo and Nebula final ballots, and won both awards (as well as the Locus Award). The other Hugo finalists were, as noted above, Singularity Sky by Charles Stross and Ilium by Dan Simmons, together with Blind Lake by Robert Charles Wilson and the awful Humans by Robert J. Sawyer. The other Nebula finalists were Cloud Atlas, by David Mitchell and Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom, by Cory Doctorow, both of which I enjoyed; The Knight, by Gene Wolfe, which I found unreadable; and Omega, by Jack McDevitt, and Perfect Circle, by Sean Stewart, which I have not read.

The other Hugo winners in the written categories that year were “The Cookie Monster”, by Vernor Vinge (novella); “Legions in Time”, by Michael Swanwick (novelette) and “A Study in Emerald”, by Neil Gaiman (short story). The other Nebula winners were “The Green Leopard Plague”, by Walter Jon Williams; “Basement Magic”, by Ellen Klages; and “Coming to Terms”, by Eileen Gunn.

The Nebula for Best Script and the Hugo for Best Dramatic Presentation, Long Form (and indeed the Osca) went to The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. The Hugo for Best Dramatic Presentation, Short Form went to Gollum’s acceptance speech for the MTV Awards,  the only time since the Hugo Dramatic Presentation category was split that both awards went to the same franchise.

The following year saw two joint winners of the Hugo and Nebula awards in the written fiction categories, “The Faery Handbag” by Kelly Link and “Two Hearts” by Peter S. Beagle. (As previously noted, I skipped a couple of joint winners after “The Ultimate Earth” by Jack Williamson.)

Dragon’s Wrath, by Justin Richards

Second paragraph of third chapter:

‘So, what do you think?’ Benny asked for about the fifth time in as many minutes.

Justin Richards is the most prolific of living Doctor Who authors – I am not completely sure if he has overtaken Terrance Dicks by now, but if not, I am sure that he will. Usually his writing is accessible and enjoyable, so I’m sorry to report that I somewhat bounced off this, the second of the independent Bernice Summerfield novels. It’s a story about a historical artefact which appears to exist in several duplicate forms, but the format kept shifting from strange dig to heist to detective novel to courtroom drama, and I felt too much was being put in without enough explanation of what was going on. A rare miss for me, for both author and series. You can get it here, at a price.

When I listened to the audio version first time round, in 2007, I wrote:

Dragon’s Wrath, like Oh, No It Isn’t!, is detached from the narrative of the other four stories. It is, frankly, not as good; plot too obvious, guest star (Richard Franklin) not sufficiently engaged, sound recording rather poor in places, basically rather skippable.

Re-listening confirmed my impressions from the first time around, and I will add that the end is very rushed. It’s interesting the Big Finish slipped it in at the end of their first Bernice Summerfield season, getting the other (and in my view better) stories out the door first. You can get it here.

The best known books set in each country: Saudi Arabia

See here for methodology. Books are disqualified if less than 50% of them is set in Saudi Arabia.

TitleAuthorGoodreads
raters
LibraryThing
owners
The Quran70,9962,398
PrincessJean Sasson 38,7032,106
A Hologram for the KingDave Eggers29,2901,771
Girls of RiyadhRajaa Alsanea20,6671,262
Finding NoufZoë Ferraris 9,8221,050
Princess Sultana’s DaughtersJean Sasson 12,463794
In the Land of Invisible WomenQanta A. Ahmed7,760755
Princess Sultana’s CircleJean Sasson 8,739551

I’m allowing the winner even though it is short on geographical detail, because there is absolutely no doubt as to which country it is written about, and many of the individual suras are tagged as being written in Medina or Mecca. Incidentally I had to add together a bunch of different LibraryThing editions which had not been combined, presumably for good reason; the real LT number must be much higher.

Apart from Dave Eggers, the other books are all by women, though only one (Girls of Riyadh) by a Saudi woman.

I disqualified half a dozen. I was a bit surprised to see The Power, by Naomi Alderman, topping the list – very little of the book is set in Saudi. I Am Pilgrim, by Terry Hayes, Infidel, by Ayaan Hirsi Ali, and The Looming Tower, by Lawrence Wright, all cover many countries, with less than half of any of them being set in the Kingdom.

I was a bit surprised to find myself then excluding Seven Pillars of Wisdom, by T.E. Lawrence, and Arabian Sands, by Wilfred Thesiger; but in fact the former is largely set on the territory of what is now Jordan (and when I get there I’ll do a strict page count to see if it’s over 50%) and the latter spends a lot of time in Oman and what are now the UAE, the core visits to the Rub’ al Khali taking up less than a hundred of the 320 pages of text.

Next up are Madagascar, Côte d’Ivoire, Cameroon and to my surprise Nepal, whose population is around the 30 million mark.

Asia: India | China | Indonesia | Pakistan | Bangladesh (revised) | Russia | Japan | Philippines (revised) | Vietnam | Iran | Türkiye | Thailand | Myanmar | South Korea | Iraq | Afghanistan | Yemen | Uzbekistan | Malaysia | Saudi Arabia | Nepal | North Korea | Syria | Sri Lanka | Taiwan | Kazakhstan | Cambodia | Jordan | UAE | Tajikistan
Americas: USA | Brazil (revised) | Mexico | Colombia | Argentina | Canada | Peru | Venezuela | Guatemala | Ecuador | Bolivia | Haiti | Dominican Republic | Honduras | Cuba
Africa: Nigeria | Ethiopia (revised) | Egypt | DR Congo | Tanzania | South Africa | Kenya | Sudan | Uganda | Algeria | Morocco | Angola | Mozambique | Ghana | Madagascar | Côte d’Ivoire | Cameroon | Niger | Mali | Burkina Faso | Malawi | Zambia | Chad | Somalia | Senegal | Zimbabwe | Guinea | Benin | Rwanda | Burundi | Tunisia | South Sudan
Europe: Russia | Türkiye | Germany | France | UK | Italy | Spain | Poland | Ukraine | Romania | Netherlands | Belgium | Sweden | Czechia | Azerbaijan | Portugal | Greece
Oceania: Australia | Papua New Guinea

How to become Pope

(reposted and updated from April 2005 and then February 2013)

Since it’s that time of century, I thought I would dig out of my memory four books I remember having read where the protagonist becomes Pope. I’ve lost my copies of them, if I ever had them, long ago.

Peter de Rosa, Pope Patrick. Written in 1995, set in 2009 after the (fictional) death of John Paul II. This has got some quite good reviews, but I don’t know why; I thought it was a load of rubbish. Irish country priest gets sort of accidentally elected Pope; outlaws banking (or at least banking with interest); bonds with the (Catholic) US president who defeated Sylvester Stallone in the 2008 election; eventually wiped out in a nuclear war with the Islamic world. Full of cod-Irishry. You can get it here.

Morris West, Shoes of the Fisherman. Written and set in 1963, the year of the death of John XXIII. Starts dramatically as a Ukrainian is elected pope without a ballot, the cardinals being suddenly inspired by the Holy Spirit. Nothing much then happens; the Church attempts to bridge the gap between the Soviet empire and the West, and somebody resembling Teilhard de Chardin gets into theological trouble. You can get it here. Made into a 1968 film with Anthony Quinn, Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud. Unlike the other three books I list here, the Pope lives on for two sequels, which I have not read.

Fr Rolfe (Baron Corvo), Hadrian the Seventh. Written and set in 1904. Total wish-fulfillment of the author, himself a failed priest; the Cardinals, unable to agree on the new Pope, come and beg him to take over; he duly does so, sorts out the entire world by allocating large chunks of it to the Germans to run more efficiently, and is, inevitably, assassinated. Horrendously right-wing, even I suspect for 1904, but more passionately written than the above two. Get it here in hard copy, here for free electronically.

Walter F. Murphy, Vicar of Christ. I think I have listed these in reverse order of when I read them and this was the first. Written and set in 1979. The hero in this case is much more interesting, an American war hero who has served as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court and then abruptly retires to a monastery after his wife is killed in a car crash. Like de Rosa’s book, set after the death of John Paul II (but in this case after a one-year rather than a thirty-year reign); like in Hadrian the Seventh, the cardinals are deadlocked and go for an outside candidate, ie our protagonist. He takes the name Franciscus I, proceeds to reform the Church drastically (reforms that are all still needed) and is, of course, assassinated at the end. Get it here (with foreword by Samuel Alito).

There are a load of others that I haven’t read, most notably Conclave by Robert Harris, though I really enjoyed the film.

All of these books veer from earnest to silly, and I haven’t read any of them for about three decades. I might revisit Hadrian the Seventh, even though it is on the sillier side, because it is mercifully short.

29 years ago

(revised from a 2006 post)

29 years ago today I was preparing to stand in my last election. (My last election to date, that is – who knows what the future will bring.)

The election was in the middle of the Northern Ireland peace process, for 110 members of a consultative forum who would also be potential delegates to the all-party peace talks chaired by George Mitchell.

Those were wild days. I had moved back to Belfast in 1991 to do the project that eventually became my PhD, and through various channels – in particular, through my existing friendship with the Liberal Democrats’ then deputy director of policy, and through my past involvement with the British Irish Association’s annual conferences – I am surprised in retrospect that it took me as long as a year and a half to get sucked back into politics.

By the end of 1993 I was the Alliance Party’s Director of Elections, later renamed Party Organiser. I was a PhD student with not a lot of motivation for the actual topic of my thesis, and basically loved hanging around party headquarters to do whatever jobs needed to be done – not just number-crunching for the proposed new parliamentary boundaries, but also bringing in new canvassing software, and plentiful knocking on doors during local council by-elections – which, quite fortuitously, happened in a number of good areas for Alliance during my period of involvement.

I won’t go into huge detail of the mishandling by all sides of the first years of the peace process from the IRA ceasefire of August 1994. I was both too close to it and also not involved in the key decisions. It still stuns me that politicians as thick as Sir Patrick Mayhew, and his sidekick the even more dismal Sir John Wheeler, were put in charge of such delicate negotiations at a key stage of Northern Ireland’s history; though I guess since then, Brexit has exposed the flaws of the UK’s political system even more brutally.

The particular detail that involved me most, from pretty early on, was the possibility of elections taking place as a part of the peace process, and the likelihood that rather than using either of the off-the-shelf electoral systems available, the British government (in order to get the Unionists to buy into the process) might decide to go for some sort of closed list system across the whole of Northern Ireland from which talks delegates might be selected.

I (and the Alliance Party) very much opposed this, partly for the principled reason that the Single Transferable Vote in multi-member constituencies is simply the best system possible, and partly for the selfish reason that Alliance suspected the party would do less well in a Northern Ireland-wide vote, rather than a vote using the 18 new electoral districts (elections for the European Parliament had always been very bad for Alliance) especially if there were no transferable element to the voting system (which does help the party punch a little above its weight, though less than conventional wisdom would have it).

The government, of course, were faced with several competing priorities – to get buy-in from the Ulster Unionist Party, and also to try and get the two small Loyalist parties, the UDP and PUP, inserted into the talks somehow. After experimenting with various models including, at one point, an “indexation” system – you would get two seats if you scored between 1% and 5%, three from 5% to 15% and four from 15% up, or something like that – they eventually came up with a proposal for electing five representatives from each of the 18 parliamentary constituencies, plus giving the top ten parties an extra two seats each, all chosen from closed lists.

This was the apogee of my Northern Irish political career, such as it was. I remember flying to London one day to meet with Sir Patrick Mayhew, the then Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, and on the way back pausing at Heathrow Airport to contact Prionsias de Rossa, then one of the leaders of the coalition parties in the Irish government. I had to get him to call me back at the payphone in the airport terminal building. (That government had an unnervingly informal approach to phone calls – I remember sitting in the party headquarters one evening, and answering the phone as it rang: the caller asked for John Alderdice, explaining that he was John Bruton, the Taoiseach. “Yes, I know who you are…” I replied.)

It was all for nothing, though, and this very peculiar system went ahead. At the start of the campaign my optimistic predictions were that Alliance should get six constituency seats, plus two top-up seats as the party should be comfortably among the top ten, and stood a decent chance of another two constituency seats (hoping especially for second seats in East Belfast and East Antrim). I myself was the lead candidate in North Belfast, where Alliance had won one of five seats starting from only 7% in the 1982 Assembly election; I was not foolish enough to expect to come anywhere close to winning, but did hope to at least equal the 6% scored by the party’s candidate in the 1992 Westminster election (on slightly different boundaries). We had a good, dedicated team – my election agent was only 17, and most of the rest of the North Belfast branch were pretty elderly, but we covered the territory we needed to cover, the intention being not to actually win but to lay the foundations for winning a seat on Belfast City Council in the 1997 elections (which duly happened, and indeed Alliance won one of the five Assembly seats in 2022).

Most of my time during the campaign was spent either at headquarters or knocking doors. I did two public meetings. The first was a mild-mannered affair in an upper-middle-class area, after which Dr John Dunlop, the former Moderator of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland, dropped me home. The other, on the Crumlin Road/Ardoyne interface was rather more dramatic. The panellists included Gerry Kelly of Sinn Fein, me, and a bunch of minor parties (I suppose I should say other minor parties). The press were all there for Kelly, but I got my soundbite broadcast anyway thanks to the requirements of fairness from broadcasters. One of the audience accused me of having absolutely no sense of reality because I suggested that the police might not be utterly and irredeemably evil. The audience as a whole were really deciding whether to vote for Kelly or not to vote at all; I don’t think I won many for the cause that evening. I departed so rapidly that I forgot my coat, and had to go back for it the next day.

In the event the Alliance vote dropped, and the party won only five of the six seats I had thought were safe (suffering a double squeeze in Lagan Valley, as Catholic voters who had previously voted Alliance, faute de mieux, opted for the SDLP for the first time, and Protestants voted for the nice “reformed” Loyalists to encourage them to keep up the ceasefire). I scored 4% in North Belfast (along with my two co-candidates). In my PhD thesis, and in the book based on it, I note:

Thanks to the electorate of North Belfast not supporting me in sufficient numbers in May 1996, I did not become their elected representative to the Northern Ireland Forum and multi-party talks and so had enough time to complete this thesis. For some reason I feel more kindly towards the 1,670 who did vote for me.

Election counts are always slightly odd in Northern Ireland – for once, political foes of every stripe are united in their fear of their common enemy – the voter! Once it became clear (as it did pretty rapidly) that I had no chance of winning, I managed to get hacked into RTE’s live radio coverage of the event and stayed in their Belfast studio for the rest of the day, my jaw dropping at the surprisingly high vote for Sinn Fein – they had predicted it almost precisely, and I had pooh-poohed their predictions, an experience that left me with a profound respect for their electoral forecasts which lasted for several electoral cycles (until they started to let hubris rather than calculation inform their forecasts). And so to a rather subdued, but relieved, celebration in the party leader’s constituency office in East Belfast.

Of course, just because I wasn’t elected didn’t mean that I was not involved with the talks once they started. I got a paid political position as one of the researchers to the Alliance delegation, and though I missed the dramatic first night of the talks – where British officials physically restrained the Unionists from occupying the chairs set aside for George Mitchell and his co-chairs – I sat in on a number of the set-pieces for the first six months, including a memorably brutal session at the end of July 1996 following the vicious marching season of that year. Mitchell has written in his own book of his despair after that particular meeting; he was the consummate professional and sounded entirely sincere when he thanked everyone for their heartfelt and vigorous contributions to the discussion, without a hint of irony.

Anyway, at the end of the year I got a job in Bosnia, and my career basically took off in a completely unexpected, and personally much more rewarding, direction. I don’t say “never again”, but I do say that the next time I stand for election, I want to have a much stronger chance of winning. But today, 29 years on from 1996, I just want to remember the election campaign that I fought when I was 29 years old in 1996. As you have probably worked out, 29+29 = 58, and today is my 58th birthday.

A Short History of Brexit: from Brentry to Backstop, by Kevin O’Rourke

Second paragraph of third chapter:

As early as 1940 there had been proposals in Britain for sharing sovereignty with another European country, namely France. Jean Monnet was yet again working to coordinate the economic efforts of the two allies, and convinced the British government to seek political union with his native country. On 16 June de Gaulle transmitted the offer to Paul Reynaud’s French government in Bordeaux, but Reynaud lost power to Marshal Pétain on the same day. Pétain, who favoured an armistice with the Germans, asked why France would wish to ‘fuse with a corpse’.² And so it is perhaps not so surprising that Winston Churchill emerged after the war as one of the leading champions of a united Europe. Out of power since July 1945, in September of the following year he gave a speech in Zurich in which he called for the construction of ‘a kind of United States of Europe’. ‘The first step in the recreation of the European Family must be a partnership between France and Germany. In this way only can France recover the moral and cultural leadership of Europe … In all this urgent work, France and Germany must take the lead together.’ (At this stage, it must be said, the French doubted the wisdom of giving the Germans such a role.) Over the next two years Churchill tirelessly advocated for a united Europe, which he regarded as being fully compatible with Britain’s imperial commitments. Indeed, Britain’s claim to continuing great-power status lay precisely in the fact that the country, uniquely, lay at the centre of ‘three interlinked circles’: the first and most important was the British Commonwealth and Empire, the second was the English-speaking world, and the third was a united Europe.³
² Ibid. [Grob-Fitzgibbon (2016)], p. 18.
³ https://winstonchurchill.org/publications/finest-hour/finest-hour-160/articles-wsc-s-three-majestic-circles/.

I know Kevin O’Rourke from many years ago when the two of us were invited on a residential seminar in Tuscany by a mutual friend, and I also vaguely knew his father, a senior Irish ambassador, but we have not met in 35 years. Since then he has become a prominent economic historian, currently teaching in Abu Dhabi, but in Oxford at the time this book was being written, during the death throes of Brexit in the summer of 2019.

Because of its timing, the book misses the excitement of the end of the chase – the hasty just-before-Christmas deal of 2019, followed by the Johnson and then Truss governments’ attempts to wriggle out of their own commitments, ending, at least for now, with Sunak’s deal (his only significant achievement in two years at the top).

But it makes up for that with a significant amount of detail about how the EU was set up in the first place, and the UK’s role outside and inside the process, a story which is centred on France and its relationship with Germany and to a lesser extent the UK, and therefore tends to be neglected by British commentators. He also goes in detail into the economic history of Ireland and why EU membership became fundamental to the Irish state. I think that both of these elements are possibly educational for readers who consumed only the mainstream (ie non-Irish) Anglophone media during the process while it was happening.

He doesn’t waste much time on David Cameron’s attempt to renegotiate the UK’s membership of the EU, but looks in some detail at the referendum result (which he feels was overdetermined; I tend to agree), and then does his best to explain Theresa May’s negotiation process. I still find it difficult to believe how pathetic the UK’s approach was in those early stages; May was ill-served by her treacherous and stupid ministers, Johnson and Davis, but the failure to come up with a detailed plan for the UK was her fault and her responsibility.

Anyway, the book itself as an important antidote to the UK perspective that Brexit was a purely British political story, in particular presenting the Irish view in its European context. You can get it here.

This was the non-fiction book that had lingered longest unread on my bookshelves. Next on that pile is All American Boys, by Walter Cunningham.

It Came from Outer Space, by Tony Lee et al.

(Various factors combine to mean that you’re getting a bunch of Doctor Who reviews this week.)

Second frame of third issue:

A collection of five Eleventh Doctor / Amy / Rory stories, of which the most memorable is the two-part second story in which the Doctor and Amy swap bodies. More could be done with that concept, but you’ve got to start somewhere! You can get it here.

Wednesday reading

Current
All American Boys, An Insider’s Look at the U.S. Space Program, by Walter Cunningham
Heroes and Monsters Collection, by Justin Richards et al
Nine Lives, by William Dalrymple

Last books finished
Dragon’s Wrath, by Justin Richards 
Someone You Can Build a Nest In, by John Wiswell 
The Brides of High Hill, by Nghi Vo
Paladin of Souls, by Lois McMaster Bujold
The Deep Dark, by Molly Knox Ostertag 
Cutting for Stone, by Abraham Verghese
Moonstorm, by Yoon Ha Lee

Next books
Doctor Who: Silver Nemesis, by Kevin Clarke
Zeitgeber, by Greg Egan
City of Last Chances, by Adrian Tchaikovsky 

The Sontarans

I like Simon Guerrier; up to now I have generally liked his writing; I love Peter Purves both as Stephen and playing the Doctor; in the week when we got the sad news of Jean Marsh’s death, it was lovely to hear her resuming the role of Sara Kingdom; and the story of the Doctor’s first encounter with Sontarans – proper bloodthirsty Lynx and Styre type Sontarans – is well structured and well told.

But I am afraid I don’t like torture scenes, and although of course it’s perfectly consistent with Styre in The Sontaran Experiment, I didn’t like that much either. So it’s a rare thumbs down for me for this particular combination of creators.

You can get it here.

How Many Miles to Babylon?, by Jennifer Johnston

Second paragraph of third section:

‘All I ever seem to do is boring Latin.’

Soon after reading some of her father’s work, I got hold of his daughter’s best known book. The only work of hers that I previously remember reading is The Captains and the Kings, at least thirty-five years ago.

This is a short, swift, very sad story about a friendship across class and religious lines in pre-first world war rural Ireland, which then plays out grimly in the trenches. There’s a wealth of hidden sexuality and buried family secrets, and the politics of conflict which plays out as much in the internal tensions of the Irish troops as with the Germans. It’s very well done. You can get it here.

The best known books set in each country: Peru

See here for methodology. Books are disqualified if less than 50% of them is set in Peru.

TitleAuthorGoodreads
raters
LibraryThing
owners
Bel CantoAnn Patchett305,83413,723
The Celestine Prophecy: An AdventureJames Redfield118,8097,100
The Bridge of San Luis ReyThornton Wilder37,1645,058
Touching the Void: The True Story of One Man’s Miraculous SurvivalJoe Simpson62,3152,763
Aunt Julia and the ScriptwriterMario Vargas Llosa22,0642,788
The Time of the HeroMario Vargas Llosa25,9821,910
Turn Right at Machu Picchu: Rediscovering the Lost City One Step at a TimeMark Adams20,1641,172
Conversation in the CathedralMario Vargas Llosa10,6541,341

These are pretty solid numbers, after a few countries which scored less well.

Slightly controversially, perhaps, I’m allowing the top spot to Bel Canto. Even though it is not explicitly set in Peru, everyone agrees that it’s based on the 1996-97 hostage crisis at the Japanese embassy in Lima, so I think it qualifies. I was a bit surprised to find that the book in second spot, The Celestine Prophecy, is also set in Peru – I don’t feel the slightest inclination to read it – but apparently that’s the case. The others are much less surprising, with the recently departed Mario Vargas Llosa filling a lot of the spots as you go down the table.

I disqualified the following:

  • Mountains Beyond Mountains: The Quest of Dr. Paul Farmer, a Man Who Would Cure the World, by Tracy Kidder – only two of its five parts is set in Peru
  • The Feast of the Goat, by Mario Vargas Llosa – set in the Dominican Republic
  • The Bad Girl, by Mario Vargas Llosa – set in various countries
  • Inés of My Soul, by Isabel Allende – only one part set in Peru
  • The War of the End of the World, by Mario Vargas Llosa – set in Brazil

People seem to have a tendency to slap the ‘Peru’ tag onto books by Mario Vargas Llosa, whether or not his country is represented in the actual content.

Incidentally, RTÉ recently ran a piece about how my great-great-great-grandfather became deputy governor of Huanta province in Peru, back in the 1770s. I have never been to any part of Latin America myself.

Coming next: Saudi Arabia, Madagascar, Côte d’Ivoire and Cameroon.

Asia: India | China | Indonesia | Pakistan | Bangladesh (revised) | Russia | Japan | Philippines (revised) | Vietnam | Iran | Türkiye | Thailand | Myanmar | South Korea | Iraq | Afghanistan | Yemen | Uzbekistan | Malaysia | Saudi Arabia | Nepal | North Korea | Syria | Sri Lanka | Taiwan | Kazakhstan | Cambodia | Jordan | UAE | Tajikistan
Americas: USA | Brazil (revised) | Mexico | Colombia | Argentina | Canada | Peru | Venezuela | Guatemala | Ecuador | Bolivia | Haiti | Dominican Republic | Honduras | Cuba
Africa: Nigeria | Ethiopia (revised) | Egypt | DR Congo | Tanzania | South Africa | Kenya | Sudan | Uganda | Algeria | Morocco | Angola | Mozambique | Ghana | Madagascar | Côte d’Ivoire | Cameroon | Niger | Mali | Burkina Faso | Malawi | Zambia | Chad | Somalia | Senegal | Zimbabwe | Guinea | Benin | Rwanda | Burundi | Tunisia | South Sudan
Europe: Russia | Türkiye | Germany | France | UK | Italy | Spain | Poland | Ukraine | Romania | Netherlands | Belgium | Sweden | Czechia | Azerbaijan | Portugal | Greece
Oceania: Australia | Papua New Guinea

Booted from the Ballot: the almost-finalists in the Hugo Awards

In the brief downtime between announcing the Hugo final ballot, and getting voting under way (which will be Real Soon Now), I reflected that the two disqualifications and two withdrawals from the ballot this year seemed rather low by recent standards. So I looked into the records, and found indeed that of the seven years that I have been involved with running the Hugos, only one had fewer such cases – two were disqualified, and one declined, in 2021, otherwise a really crazy year for Worldcon.

(For these purposes I’m counting a disqualification as any exclusion of an otherwise valid nominee by the administrators under their interpretation of the rules. This includes the various permutations under the Best Dramatic Presentation categories, and also the bad decisions made and published by the Chengdu Worldcon team in 2023.)

The proliferation of withdrawals and disqualifications is a recent phenomenon. I have access to the nomination statistics for 1980 and 1996, and for every year since 1998. From 1998 to 2002, and again in 2007, there were no disqualifications or withdrawals from the Hugo ballot at all, and in the four intervening years there was only one each time. (Ted Chiang, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman declined fiction nominations in 2003, 2005 and 2006, and there was a disqualification in the Best Semiprozine category in 2004.)

One potential finalist was disqualified in 2008, and two potential finalists declined nomination in 2009, 2010 and 2011; and since then there have been at least three withdrawals and/or disqualifications each year. The high water mark was, infamously, 2023, where (according to the official statistics) twelve potential finalists were disqualified and another three declined nomination, though evidence suggests that votes for many more Chinese nominees were removed from the system at an earlier stage, effectively disqualifying over twenty of them without making it public.

The second highest total for withdrawals and disqualifications was the previous year, 2022, when I was Deputy Administrator. We disqualified seven potential finalists that year, four of them in the Best Editor, Long From category (where another potential finalist withdrew); a unique issue at that time was the blockage to global supply chains caused by the pandemic, as a result of which a lot of 2021 publication schedules slipped, though in my view it also shows the difficulties of voter awareness of the editing process.

The only other ballots that saw as many as seven disqualifications were the 1939 and 1941 Retro Hugos. 1939 (awarded in 2014) saw a lot of eligibility confusion, and in 1941 (awarded in 2016) three of the disqualified potential finalists had had sufficient support to qualify in both Dramatic Presentation categories, and of course they could only be on the ballot in one, and therefore were disqualified from the other.

Among the Hugos, the Best Dramatic Presentation categories have generally had the most disqualifications, largely thanks to the rule (or custom) preventing entire TV series and individual episodes of that series appearing on the same ballot. Thirteen BDP Short Form and five BDP Long Form nominees have been disqualified by administrators in the years that those categories have existed, though in many of these cases at least part of the material disqualified in one category appeared on the ballot in another.

The other category with a lot of disqualifications is the Astounding Award, previously the Campbell Award, where there have been seven disqualifications over the years where I have data (including one each in 1980 and in 1996). Sometimes voters (and indeed writers themselves) are uncertain as to when a writer’s career actually started.

The only disqualification for Best Fan Writer on record was the incomprehensible decision to exclude Paul Weimer in 2023; it’s rather difficult to see how anyone who has published anything fannish in the year of eligibility could be ruled out in that category. Apart from Retro Hugos, nobody has ever been disqualified in Best Fanzine or Best Novella, at least in the years for which I have data; nor for the Lodestar, which is also a recent innovation and whose criteria again are broad. Best Game or Interactive Work is the only category where there has not yet been either a withdrawal or a disqualification, but since it has only been going for two years, there is plenty of time…

The largest number of voluntary withdrawals of finalists who would otherwise have qualified numerically is six, in 2016. There were five withdrawals in 2015 and also last year, 2024. As noted above, the last year in which there were no withdrawals from the regular Hugos was 2013.

Seven finalists for the Best Novel and the Best Editor, Long Form categories have withdrawn from the ballot. Pro Artists have declined nomination five times, and Fan Writers and authors of both Novellas and Novelettes four times each, in the years where I have full data.

We have yet to see a voluntary withdrawal in the Best Graphic Story or Comic, BDP Short Form, Game / Interactive Work, and Editor Short Form Hugo categories, or for the Astounding Award or its predecessor, as far as I know. The first and so far only withdrawal from the Lodestar was this year, the first and only withdrawal from Best Related Work that I know of was last year, and the the first only withdrawal from BDP Long was in 2023.

There are two very striking shifts in the numbers. Up to 2011, there were an average of 0.375 disqualifications each year. Since 2012, counting the regular Hugos only, there has been an average of 4.00 disqualifications each year. It’s an abrupt change.

The shift in the number of withdrawals is a little later. Up to 2014, the average was 0.73 per year. Since 2015, the average number of withdrawals from that year’s Hugos is 3.4.

The five rounds of Retro Hugos run between 2014 and 2020 saw no withdrawals at all, hardly surprising in that few of the nominees were in a position to accept or decline nomination, but there were an average of 4.4 disqualifications each year.

(Not that it is a significant difference, but the average number of withdrawals in 2017, 2019-22 and 2024-25, the years where I was personally involved with administering the nominations, is lower – 2.43 rather than 3.4 – and so is the average number of disqualifications – 3.57 rather than 4.00 – but I think this simply shows that the two big years for withdrawals were just before my time, and also I fortunately was not involved with the massive number of disqualifications in 2023.)

I think we are seeing a couple of different effects here over time. Taking withdrawals first: this had never been a huge factor in the Hugos until the Puppy years, when (as noted earlier) a record number of potential finalists declined nomination in both 2015 and 2016. Perhaps one of the lasting effects has been that nominees now feel more comfortable about saying no in general. Also, the aftermath of Chengdu drove the number of withdrawals up again – two of the five in 2024 were directly related to the previous year’s events.

(Kathryn Duval has pointed out to me in conversation that it’s also possible that Hugo administrators in the olden days did not need to be as diligent in chasing nominees for consent as we have been since she and I first administered the awards in 2017. That perhaps is another effect of the traumas of 2015/2016.)

The massive increase in disqualifications since roughly 2012 has several causes. The biggest chunk of disqualifications has been in the Best Dramatic Presentation categories, starting from the year that the entire first series of Game of Thrones was on the ballot, and usually because of a conflict of nominations between the two categories; I have written before about this. And I noted earlier that the special circumstances of the pandemic hit Best Editor, Long Form in 2022.

The constitutional criteria, which are complex in some cases, must also be a factor. The Astounding/Campbell rules are somewhat arcane. The rules in the Artist categories are frankly obsolete. And have you ever had to explain the concept of a Semiprozine? (In Korean?) It all causes a lot of head-scratching for us administrators – it’s not surprising or blameworthy that voters can get it wrong. And the more categories that are added, the greater the opportunity for everyone to make mistakes.

But the other big change, one that almost exactly matches the explosion in the number of disqualifications, is the impressive and welcome surge in the number of voters. I don’t think it is as widely appreciated as it should be that the numbers participating in Hugo voting shifted abruptly upwards in 2009-2011, and now show no sign of declining to their previous level. Before 2009 there had only once been more than 1500 votes on the final ballot, and never been more than 800 voters at the nominations phase. Since 2011, only one year (2023 / Chengdu) has seen less than 1800 final ballot votes (peaking at 5950 in 2015, the first Puppy year), and the lowest number of nomination votes cast was 1249 in 2021 (peaking at 4032 in 2016, the second Puppy year).

NB that this graph includes the published number of nomination and final ballot votes for Chengdu in 2023, which cannot be considered reliable, and the final ballot votes for Glasgow 2024 after 377 fraudulent ballots were disqualified. Blank columns are where I don’t have the data.

Probably the biggest single factor here is the Hugo Voter Packet, which gives hundreds of dollars / pounds / euros worth of books to voters who buy a WSFS membership. It started in 2009 and was really integrated into Worldcon marketing from 2011, almost exactly matching the expansion in participation.

But I think that there was also an effort – perhaps it is too much to call it a campaign – by many people, perhaps in reaction to the 2007 ballot which included only one work of fiction by a woman, to broaden the appeal of the Hugos and make them more diverse. This is a Good Thing. The Puppy argument that the Hugos were locked in a vicious circle of declining participation and political correctness was precisely backwards: by the early 2010s, Hugo participation was rising, not falling, and this was adding some very welcome and needed diversity to the ecosystem.

The effect has been to bring in a cohort of voters who are less invested in some of the older (indeed, oldest) categories, as fan culture itself is de-emphasising the traditional channels. Twenty years ago, in 2005, 546 nominating votes were cast in the Hugos, and a nominee needed 20 votes to get onto the Best Professional Artist ballot, 36 for Best Semiprozine, 24 for Best Fanzine, 30 for Best Fan Writer and 26 for Best Fan Artist. This year there were 1338 nominating votes, almost 2.5 times more than in 2005, but the effective thresholds to qualify for those five categories are the same or lower: 14 for Best Professional Artist, 38 for Best Semiprozine, 25 for Best Fanzine, 27 for Best Fan Writer and 16 for Best Fan Artist. (Though of course there are now six finalists per category rather than five.)

Analyzing the historical levels of participation in each category in depth is for another blogpost (and maybe someone else will do it before I do, which is fine by me). But I think it’s clear that in a number of categories, the Hugo electorate of today is broadly less invested than the Hugo electorate of twenty years ago, and it is therefore more likely that well-known but unwilling or ineligible nominees will be chosen.

As an administrator, I always feel a bit sad and uncomfortable when removing any nominee from the ballot. Most people’s votes are cast in good faith, and they should in general be respected. At the same time, the nominees themselves have the absolute right to choose whether or not to participate in the Hugos; and the rules are there for many reasons (mostly good reasons) and need to be implemented to maintain the integrity of the process. So when it has to be done, it has to be done.

I think I’ll leave it at that. If you want to play with the data yourself, I’ve put it in a Google sheet here.

Ganny Knits a Spaceship, by David Gerrold

No internal divisions, so this is the third paragraph.

She meant that people who live in space live differently than people who live on planets. I’m not talking about the micro-gravity and the sense of confinement and the recycling of air and water and protein, the exercise regimen, and all the implants and augments, like bone-sintering and radiation-nanos and white-blood infusions, and all the other stuff that dirtsiders think about. That’s just mechanics. You live with it.

Entertaining short story about teenage Starling who lives with her grandparents on a space station in the asteroid belt. They are vulnerable to capitalism, betrayal and death, and Starling’s Ganny does her best to outwit them. Very cheerful in the end. You may or may not be able to get it here.

This was the sf book that had lingered longest unread on my shelves. Next on that pile is thirteen fourteen fifteen o’clock, also by David Gerrold.

The Birds, and other stories, by Daphne du Maurier

Second paragraph of third story (“The Apple Tree”):

It was a fine clear morning in early spring, and he was shaving by the open window. As he leant out to sniff the air, the lather on his face, the razor in his hand, his eye fell upon the apple tree. It was a trick of light, perhaps, something to do with the sun coming up over the woods, that happened to catch the tree at this particular moment; but the likeness was unmistakable.

Six very spooky stories by the author of Rebecca, the title story being well known as the basis of another Hitchcock film. Apart from “The Birds”, which gave me sleepless nights when I first read it at the age of 12, the other really effective piece is “The Apple Tree”, where a woman gets posthumous revenge for a bad marriage though manipulation of vegetation. But they are all splendidly creepy. Two out of six are definitely not sff, but at least three of the other four are, so I’m booking this as genre rather than non-genre in my tally. You can get it here.

Unfortunately Virago don’t give a credit for the striking cover. (They have published a more recent hardback edition with a different cover, by Neisha Crosland.)

This was my top unread book by a woman. Next on that pile is A Restless Truth, by Freya Marske.

Wednesday reading

Current
Cutting for Stone, by Abraham Verghese
Paladin of Souls, by Lois McMaster Bujold
Dragon’s Wrath, by Justin Richards
Someone You Can Build a Nest In, by John Wiswell

Last books finished
Alien Clay, by Adrian Tchaikovsky
It Came from Outer Space, by Tony Lee et al.
The Tusks of Extinction, by Ray Naylor
The Hunger and the Dusk vol. 1, by G. Willow Wilson, Chris Wildgoose and Msassyk
The Feast Makers, by H.A. Clarke (did not finish)
A Short History of Brexit, by Kevin O’Rourke

Next books
Heroes and Monsters Collection, by Justin Richards et al
All American Boys, An Insider’s Look at the U.S. Space Program, by Walter Cunningham
Nine Lives, by William Dalrymple

The Vetting, by Michael Cassutt

Second paragraph of third section:

The voice of Gloria Chang. “He’s back.”

A short story from the 2020 Hugo packet, about a Syrian scientist trying to enter the USA with his ideas about the empirically demonstrable connection between the soul and the body. Short but clear. You can get it here.

This was the shortest unread book on my shelves (virtual and physical) acquired in 2020. Next on that list is Zeitgeber, by Greg Egan.

The Mysterious Island, by Jules Verne

Second paragraph of third chapter:

« En avant !» s’écria le reporter.“Come along!” cried the reporter.

I flagged this book to myself as the second most popular book published in 1874 on LibraryThing and Goodreads, after Far From the Madding Crowd. It’s a ridiculously long fantasy (750 pages!) about five chaps who, escaping from Richmond in the closing days of the U.S. Civil War, are swept by balloon to a remote Pacific island, where fortunately they find all the animal, vegetable and mineral resources necessary for them to survive and thrive.

Towards the end they encounter a character from a previous Verne novel, and this firmly tips the book into science fiction (it has been teetering on the edge up until then, with a super-intelligent orang-utan). Lots of incident, lots of Great Engineer solutions, lots of unconscious racism (and some totally conscious racism from Caleb Carr in the introduction to my edition). I think if I had not had been reading two other rather long books at the same time, it might have become a bit tedious, but it’s all done at cracking pace.

My edition also features the glorious line-drawing illustrations by Jules-Descartes Ferat, engraved by Charles Barbant, from the original French version.

You can get it here.

This was my top unread book acquired last year, and my top unread sf book. Next on those piles are Prophet Song and ‘Salem’s Lot.

The best known books set in each country: Ghana

See here for methodology. Books are disqualified if less than 50% of them (as far as I can tell) is set in Ghana.

TitleAuthorGoodreads
raters
LibraryThing
owners
HomegoingYaa Gyasi 375,9296,269
Anansi the SpiderGerald McDermott7,2533,410
His Only WifePeace Adzo Medie 31,662496
Remote ControlNnedi Okorafor18,205755
Ghana Must GoTaiye Selasi12,122834
SoloKwame Alexander 13,405707
Emmanuel’s DreamLaurie Ann Thompson 3,216764
The Door of No ReturnKwame Alexander 6,828332

Homegoing has a commanding lead here, especially on Goodreads, and it’s good to see Ghanaian authors penetrating the two systems.

I disqualified eight books, in some cases because they are mainly about the Ghanaian migrant experience and in others because they are actually about the process of migrating from Ghana. They were Transcendent Kingdom, Yaa Gyasi; Maame, by Jessica George; Open Water, by Caleb Azumah Nelson; The Shadow of the Sun, by Ryszard Kapuściński; Pigeon English, by Stephen Kelman; Illegal, by Eoin Colfer; The Two Hearts of Kwasi Boachi, by Arthur Japin; and North to Paradise by Ousman Umar.

Next up: Peru, Saudi Arabia, Madagascar and Côte d’Ivoire.

Asia: India | China | Indonesia | Pakistan | Bangladesh (revised) | Russia | Japan | Philippines (revised) | Vietnam | Iran | Türkiye | Thailand | Myanmar | South Korea | Iraq | Afghanistan | Yemen | Uzbekistan | Malaysia | Saudi Arabia | Nepal | North Korea | Syria | Sri Lanka | Taiwan | Kazakhstan | Cambodia | Jordan | UAE | Tajikistan
Americas: USA | Brazil (revised) | Mexico | Colombia | Argentina | Canada | Peru | Venezuela | Guatemala | Ecuador | Bolivia | Haiti | Dominican Republic | Honduras | Cuba
Africa: Nigeria | Ethiopia (revised) | Egypt | DR Congo | Tanzania | South Africa | Kenya | Sudan | Uganda | Algeria | Morocco | Angola | Mozambique | Ghana | Madagascar | Côte d’Ivoire | Cameroon | Niger | Mali | Burkina Faso | Malawi | Zambia | Chad | Somalia | Senegal | Zimbabwe | Guinea | Benin | Rwanda | Burundi | Tunisia | South Sudan
Europe: Russia | Türkiye | Germany | France | UK | Italy | Spain | Poland | Ukraine | Romania | Netherlands | Belgium | Sweden | Czechia | Azerbaijan | Portugal | Greece
Oceania: Australia | Papua New Guinea

Astonishing Things: The Drawings of Victor Hugo

I can strongly recommend the exhibition of art by Victor Hugo at the Royal Academy in London at the moment. Not much of this was published or exhibited during his lifetime; he clearly felt a compulsion to draw, but much less of a compulsion to show his drawings off to people – with a couple of exceptions, including his homage to John Brown, L’Homme pendu, which I felt was too gruesome to post here.

There are about 70 of Hugo’s drawings in the exhibition, and a lot of information about his life and travels. There are also a few photographs, particularly of Hauteville House, his home on Guernsey for many years. He put a lot of effort into furnishing the house and muttered that he had missed a career as an interior decorator.

Anyway, these were the pieces that particularly jumped out at me. The exhibition is on until 29 June, so you have plenty of time to get to it.

Happy New Year 1856 from Victor Hugo!
Furteneck [actually Fürstenberg] castle in Mist, 1840
Inkblot retouched with a pen (1850s) – look at the faces he has found in the ink patterns
Fantasy landscape with a castle on a cliff, 1857
Mirror frame with birds
Landscape reflected in water
Scary octopus from late novel The Toilers of the Sea
Frontispiece for Les Miserables
The lighthouse at Casquets, Guernsey
The town of Vianden (in Luxembourg) seen through a spider’s web

See also this longer piece by Rebecca Marks.

Joan and Peter, by H.G. Wells

Second paragraph of third chapter:

He lay in hospital for a long spell, painful but self-satisfied. The nature of his injuries was not yet clear to him. Presently he would get all right again. “V.C.,” he whispered. “At twenty. Pretty decent.”

This is the last of the set of novels by H.G. Wells that I bought in 2019 and have been working my way through ever since. I’m glad to say that after a couple of real duds, I have ended on a high note. It’s a very long book, and you know where it is going as soon as you see the title, but I found it very worthwhile and interesting.

Joan and Peter are cousins, and are orphaned quite early in the book and brought up together. Their guardianship passes from a pair of eccentric left-wing aunts (“I suspect them strongly of vegetarianism”), to a monstrous conservative cousin (“In spite of its loyalty, Ulster is damp”), to another cousin, war hero Oswald who has been busy civilising Africa and wants to do the same for England, or at least for the two children who he has ended up with.

Wells’ Big Theme for the book is education, and Oswald’s efforts to secure it for both Peter and Joan (“if women were to be let out of purdah they might as well be let right out”), but if you can ignore the lengthy philosophising about that, and the certainty that the White Man hath his Burden, there’s rather a good human story between Oswald and Peter’s parents at the start, and then between Oswald, Joan and Peter.

The two kids both have plenty of other potential lovers apart from each other, but I am a bit of a romantic at heart and I do like the slow path to the (spoiler) happy ending. Adam Roberts didn’t; he found the pace far too slow. I was reading a couple of other very long books at the time, so it suited me. I will agree with Adam that Wells makes Joan sound unnecessarily childish, even as an adult.

There are some great lines. Here’s one of Joan’s unsuccessful boyfriends:

…when Huntley went on to suggest that the path to freedom lay in the heroic abandonment of the “fetish of chastity,” Joan was sensible of a certain lagging of spirit.

Here are the lefty aunts:

Aunt Phoebe sat near Aunt Phyllis and discoursed on whether she ought to go to prison for the Vote. “I try to assault policemen,” she said. “But they elude me.”

Here’s one of the failed educational theorists who Oswald interviews:

Hinks of Carchester, the distinguished Greek scholar, slipped into his hand at parting a pamphlet asserting that only Greek studies would make a man write English beautifully and precisely. Unhappily for his argument Hinks had written his pamphlet neither beautifully nor precisely.

And here’s just a nice bit of scene-setting:

Slowly, smoothly, unfalteringly, the brush of the twilight had been sweeping its neutral tint across the spectacle, painting out the glittering symbols one by one. A chill from outer space fell down through the thin Russian air, a dark transparent curtain. Oswald shivered in his wadded coat. Abruptly down below, hard by a ghostly white church, one lamp and then another pricked the deepening blue. A little dark tram-car that crept towards them out of the city ways to fetch them back into the city, suddenly became a glow-worm…

As with Mr Polly, there is a crucial plot twist depending on a fake death by drowning.

Also, uniquely in Wells’ work as far as I have read it, there is a significant section set in Ireland. Wells’ characters generally float back and forth on Home Rule (more forth than back); here, Peter and Oswald go on a fact-finding mission to pre-war Dublin and are a bit disappointed with the facts that they find, while the monstrous conservative cousin Lady Charlotte throws her energy into Unionism:

“We’re raising money to get those brave Ulstermen guns. Something has to be done if these Liberals are not to do as they like with us. They and their friends the priests.”

There’s a certain amount of “these tedious people and their comic accents quarreling with each other rather than working for a better world society”, but there’s also some good observation based on personal experience, rather than just reading the newspapers.

This was a positive note to end two of my projects on: working through the H.G. Wells back catalogue, as I mentioned, and also finishing all the unread books that I acquired in 2019. So it’s another to add to this list:

Last book acquired in 2019, read in April 2025 (Joan and Peter)
Last book acquired in 2018, read in November 2024 (The Geraldines)
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)

At this rate I’ll catch up with myself around 2028. (I won’t.)

This unlocks my lists of books acquired in 2020:

  • The Vetting, by Michael Cassutt (shortest)
  • Ganny Knits a Spaceship, by David Gerrold (SF longest unread)
  • A Short History of Brexit, by Kevin O’Rourke (non-fiction longest unread)
  • All American Boys, An Insider’s Look at the U.S. Space Program, by Walter Cunningham (top on LibraryThing)

None of the unread non-genre fiction on my shelves was acquired in 2020.

The Vegetarian, by Han Kang

Second paragraph of thirs part (“Flaming Trees”):

그녀는 아주 젊지 않다. 딱히 미인이라고 부르기도 어렵다. 다만 목선이 고운 편이고 눈매가 서글서글하다. 자연스러워 보이는 옅은 화장을 했으며, 흰 반소매 블라우스는 구김 없이 청결하다. 누구에게든 호감을 줄법한 그 단정한 인상 덕분에, 희미하게 얼굴에 배어 있는 그늘은 그다지눈에 띄지 않는다.She isn’t really young anymore, and it would be difficult to call her a beauty, exactly. The curve of her neck is quite attractive and the look in her eyes is open and friendly. She wears light, natural-looking makeup, and her white blouse is neat, uncreased. Thanks to that smart impression, which one might reasonably expect to attract curiosity, attention is deflected away from the faint shadows clouding her face.
translated by Deborah Smith

This came top of my survey of books set in South Korea, and contribute to the author winning the Nobel Prize for Literature last year; and it also came strongly recommended by a number of friends in whose judgement I generally have faith. It’s the story of Cheong Yeong-hye, who decides to stop eating meat, to the dismay of her extended family who eventually commit her to a mental hospital. It’s told in three parts, by her husband, her sister’s husband and then her sister, so that we get the events of each part retold and reflected on by the next narrator.

It’s not really about the merits or demerits of meat. It’s much more about shame, choice, illness and desire, and it’s very closely and intensely written. It really does stick in the mind. You can get it here.

Han Yang is the only Nobel Prize winner for Literature who is younger than me (born in 1970). She celebrated her 54th birthday between the announcement last November and receiving the award in December. She was the youngest writer to win it since 1987 when it went to Joseph Brodsky, then 47; Orhan Pamuk was a few months past his 54th birthday when he won in 2006.

See also translator Deborah Smith’s thoughtful and vigorous rebuttal to criticism of her rendition of the book into English.

This was my top unread book by a non-white writer and my top unread book by a woman. Next on those piles respectively are The Birds, by Daphne du Maurier, and The Water Outlaws, by S.L. Huang.

Wednesday reading

Current
Cutting for Stone, by Abraham Verghese
Paladin of Souls, by Lois McMaster Bujold
It Came from Outer Space, by Tony Lee et al.
Alien Clay, by Adrian Tchaikovsky
A Short History of Brexit, by Kevin O’Rourke

Last books finished
Ganny Knits a Spaceship, by David Gerrold
How Many Miles to Babylon, by Jennifer Johnston

Next books
Dragon’s Wrath, by Justin Richards
All American Boys, An Insider’s Look at the U.S. Space Program, by Walter Cunningham
Nine Lives, by William Dalrymple

A History of the Bible: The Book and Its Faiths, by John Barton

Second paragraph of third chapter:

It has long been traditional to group together certain books in the Bible under the heading ‘wisdom’: Proverbs, Ecclesiastes and Job, and in the Apocrypha, Sirach or the Wisdom of Jesus son of Sira (also known as Ecclesiasticus) and the Wisdom of Solomon.¹ All these books contain many short sayings or aphorisms, summing up the fruits of experience or giving explicit advice on how to behave. Many seem to reflect life in a village or small community, and draw ‘morals’ from activities such as farming:

The field of the poor may yield much food,
but it is swept away through injustice.
(Proverbs 13:23)

Like vinegar to the teeth, and smoke to the eyes,
so are the lazy to their employers.
(Proverbs 10:26)

The righteous know the needs of their animals,
but the mercy of the wicked is cruel.
Those who till their land will have plenty of food,
but those who follow worthless pursuits have no sense.
(Proverbs 12:10-11)

Many of these proverbs are paralleled in other cultures, and could be seen as part of a popular understanding of the world, like our own ‘Too many cooks spoil the broth’ or ‘Look before you leap’.

¹ Excellent guides to biblical wisdom literature are J.L. Crenshaw, Old Testament Wisdom: An Introduction (Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox Press, third edition 2010), and Katharine J. Dell, Get wisdom, Get Insight: An Introduction to Israel’s Wisdom Literature (London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 2000).

A really fascinating, detailed book about the sacred text of Christianity and Judaism, starting at the very beginning with the compilation of the older parts of the Old Testament, and finishing with the most recent translations for today’s audience. Too much information to synthesis crispily, but it puts lots of things together that I had not really thought about, for instance:

  • There are lots of manuscripts for the New Testament, but the accepted version of the Hebrew Old Testament largely depends on a single eleventh-century manuscript, the Leningrad Codex.
  • Syriac, the first language into which the New Testament was translated, is the local version of Aramaic used in Edessa (now Şanlıurfa) – I had always been a bit confused about this. Aramaic was certainly Jesus’ native language, but he would have spoken the Galilean dialect.
  • The Epistle of Barnabas and The Shepherd of Hermas were the two texts that came closest to getting into the New Testament without making it. The Letter to the Hebrews was the New Testament book that came closest to getting left out.
  • The story of the woman taken in adultery is a very late addition to the Gospel of John. (Incidentally one of the few gospel passages that mentions writing.)
  • Leaping forward, translating the Bible can be a crucial step in codifying a language; alongside Luther’s impact on German you could add Jurij Dalmatin’s impact on Slovenian, for instance.

I think even non-Christians will find quite a lot of interesting stuff in this account of one of the world’s most important literary artefacts. You can get it here.

This was my top unread book acquired in 2023 which is not by Ben Aaronovitch. Next in that list is Free: Coming of Age at the End of History, by Lea Ypi.

The Ravelli Conspiracy, by Robert Khan and Tom Salinsky

Next in the sequence of First Doctor audios, this gives Peter Purves licence to do his famous and excellent William Hartnell impression, along with Maureen O’Brien as Vicki, in a pure historical story which takes place in Florence in 1514. Main characters are Giuliano de’ Medici, ruler of Florence; his brother Pope Leo X; and Niccolo Macchiavelli. There’s also a comic guard and a token Renaissance woman. It’s actually great fun, and my only complaint is that they all pronounce ‘Giuliano’ with a hard ‘g’ – it’s Julie-anno, folks, not Gully-anno. You can get it here.

2025 Hugo final ballot: Goodreads / LibraryThing stats

2025 Hugos: Goodreads / Librarything stats | Novel | Novella | Novelette | Short Story | Graphic Story or Comic | Related Work | Dramatic Presentation, Long and Short | Fancast | Poem | Lodestar | Astounding

As I have done for many years, here are the statistics for the finalists for this year’s Hugo Award categories (and the Lodestar Award) where the finalists are on Goodreads and LibraryThing. As I have said before, this shows how well a book has permeated the general market, but that is not the same as appealing to the Hugo electorate.

Best NovelGRLT
The Ministry of TimeKaliane Bradley124,7813.601,7373.71
The Tainted CupRobert Jackson Bennett37,4914.319164.37
A Sorceress Comes to CallT. Kingfisher31,0874.099034.16
Service ModelAdrian Tchaikovsky10,4884.043163.87
Someone You Can Build a Nest InJohn Wiswell9,5573.993243.94
Alien ClayAdrian Tchaikovsky8,5514.032803.88

A clear lead for The Ministry of Time in market penetration, though The Tainted Cup has the most enthusiastic readers.

Best NovellaGRLT
What Feasts at NightT. Kingfisher28,3423.813813.87
The Butcher of the ForestPremee Mohamed5,8953.892163.77
The Brides of High HillNghi Vo4,4364.152004.10
The Tusks of ExtinctionRay Nayler4,8083.821833.83
The Practice, the Horizon, and the ChainSofia Samatar1,8113.831233.76
Navigational EntanglementsAliette de Bodard5423.90683.68

Similarly, a clear lead for What Feasts at Night in market penetration, though The Brides of High Hill has the most enthusiastic readers.

Best Graphic Story or ComicGRLT
My Favorite Thing is Monsters, Book 2Emil Ferris3,1264.242453.96
The Deep DarkMolly Knox Ostertag4,4294.341314.36
We Called Them GiantsGillen, Hans & Cowles1,1803.58493.46
Monstress, vol. 9: The PossessedLiu & Takeda7234.31693.85
Star Trek: Lower Decks: Warp Your Own WayNorth & Fenoglio2974.59464.42
The Hunger and the Dusk: Vol 1Wilson & Wildgoose7004.17163.90

Much closer between the top two here, while Warp Your Own Way has the best reader ratings of any book in this post.

Lodestar Award for Best YA BookGRLT
Heavenly TyrantXiran Jay Zhao7,4023.924304.03
So Let Them BurnKamilah Cole6,0523.842453.94
The Maid and the CrocodileJordan Ifueko2,1764.40843.93
Sheine LendeDarcie Little Badger9934.26884.38
MoonstormYoon Ha Lee3643.52633.50
The Feast MakersH.A. Clarke3714.40204.38

A solid ownership lead for Heavenly Tyrant; The Feast Makers has the fewest readers, but they are enthusiastic!

I usually add Best Related Work here too, but only two of this year’s finalists are logged on GR/LT.

The best known books set in each country: Mozambique

See here for methodology. Books are disqualified if less than 50% of them is set in Mozambique.

TitleAuthorGoodreads
raters
LibraryThing
owners
A Girl Named DisasterNancy Farmer 5,1171,735
A Time to DieWilbur Smith6,220807
Sleepwalking LandMia Couto5,775466
A Treacherous ParadiseHenning Mankell 3,533562
Chronicler of the WindsHenning Mankell 2,775708
Confession of the LionessMia Couto3,533266
The Tuner of SilencesMia Couto2,615213
Secrets in the FireHenning Mankell 2,060253

This week’s winner is a Newbery-awarded novel about a girl trying to flee from Mozambique to Zimbabwe; as far as I can tell it takes more than half of the book for her to get across the border, so it qualifies.

I had no idea that Swedish writer Henning Mankell has a close personal link with Mozambique and lived there off and on for many years. I also had not heard of the great Mozambican writer Mia (short for Emilio) Couto, which is definitely my bad.

I disqualified a lot of books which are just generally set in southern Africa, or more specifically in a different country entirely. At the top was Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight: An African Childhood by Alexandra Fuller, set in Zimbabwe, followed by The Man from Beijing by Henning Mankell, Dark Star Safari: Overland from Cairo to Cape Town by Paul Theroux, The Girl Who Smiled Beads: A Story of War and What Comes After, by Clemantine Wamariya, Half a Life, by V.S. Naipaul, Kennedy’s Brain by Henning Mankell again, Scribbling the Cat by Alexandra Fuller again and A Beautiful Place to Die by Malla Nunn.

As we go down the list, I am increasingly finding that GR and LT users are tagging them into books which have little or nothing to do with the country in question. I may have to adapt my methodology in response.

Next up: Ghana, Peru, Saudi Arabia and Madagascar.

Asia: India | China | Indonesia | Pakistan | Bangladesh (revised) | Russia | Japan | Philippines (revised) | Vietnam | Iran | Türkiye | Thailand | Myanmar | South Korea | Iraq | Afghanistan | Yemen | Uzbekistan | Malaysia | Saudi Arabia | Nepal | North Korea | Syria | Sri Lanka | Taiwan | Kazakhstan | Cambodia | Jordan | UAE | Tajikistan
Americas: USA | Brazil (revised) | Mexico | Colombia | Argentina | Canada | Peru | Venezuela | Guatemala | Ecuador | Bolivia | Haiti | Dominican Republic | Honduras | Cuba
Africa: Nigeria | Ethiopia (revised) | Egypt | DR Congo | Tanzania | South Africa | Kenya | Sudan | Uganda | Algeria | Morocco | Angola | Mozambique | Ghana | Madagascar | Côte d’Ivoire | Cameroon | Niger | Mali | Burkina Faso | Malawi | Zambia | Chad | Somalia | Senegal | Zimbabwe | Guinea | Benin | Rwanda | Burundi | Tunisia | South Sudan
Europe: Russia | Türkiye | Germany | France | UK | Italy | Spain | Poland | Ukraine | Romania | Netherlands | Belgium | Sweden | Czechia | Azerbaijan | Portugal | Greece
Oceania: Australia | Papua New Guinea

The Undying Fire, by H.G. Wells

Second paragraph of third chapter:

The host was Sir Eliphaz Burrows, the patentee and manufacturer of those Temanite building blocks which have not only revolutionized the construction of army hutments, but put the whole problem of industrial and rural housing upon an altogether new footing; his guests were Mr. William Dad, formerly the maker of the celebrated Dad and Showhite car de luxe, and now one of the chief contractors for aeroplanes in England; and Mr. Joseph Farr, the head of the technical section of Woldingstanton School. Both the former gentlemen were governors of that foundation and now immensely rich, and Sir Eliphaz had once been a pupil of the father of Mr. Huss and had played a large part in the appointment of the latter to Woldingstanton. He was a slender old man, with an avid vulturine head poised on a long red neck, and he had an abundance of parti-coloured hair, red and white, springing from a circle round the crown of his head, from his eyebrows, his face generally, and the backs of his hands. He wore a blue soft shirt with a turn-down collar within a roomy blue serge suit, and that and something about his large loose black tie suggested scholarship and refinement. His manners were elaborately courteous. Mr. Dad was a compacter, keener type, warily alert in his bearing, an industrial fox-terrier from the Midlands, silver-haired and dressed in ordinary morning dress except for a tan vest with a bright brown ribbon border. Mr. Farr was big in a grey flannel Norfolk suit; he had a large, round, white, shiny, clean-shaven face and uneasy hands, and it was apparent that he carried pocket-books and suchlike luggage in his breast pocket.

H.G. Wells attempts to rewrite the Book of Job for a 1919 audience. For the love of God, why???

Again, Adam Roberts liked it more than I did.

One more to go! Roll on Joan and Peter.

Beijing, March 2025

So, I went to Beijing again at the end of last month, my second time in China after visiting Beijing and Chengdu for Chengdu Worldcon in 2023. I was an invited speaker at the 9th China Science Fiction Convention, itself part of the 2025 ZGC Forum, a joint project of the various layers of government in the Beijing region and the China Association for Science and Technology. It was an industry and politics event, showcasing the various economic successes of investment in science fiction (books, films, games), though there was also a substantial presence from the leading Chinese writers, and plenty of student fan groups had stalls in the exhibition area.

My invitation arose out of a conversation I had had at Glasgow 2024, A Worldcon For Our Futures, with Gong Weimi, Deputy Director of the Beijing Science and Technology Commission, who was exploring paths of creative structured cooperation between Worldcon and the Beijing Zhongguancun Science Fiction Industry Innovation Center, which is (as far as I could tell) a joint project of the Beijing Regional Government and the China Association for Science and Technology. The fact that there is no permanent Worldcon secretariat makes this more difficult for the industry-oriented Chinese establishment.

The meeting with Icy Chen (on my left) and Gong Weimi (on my right) at Glasgow 2024 which kicked it all off.

The outcome of the conversation was invitations to speak at the conference for me (as Hugo administrator last year and this) and Esther MacCallum-Stewart (as Chair of Glasgow 2024). Other foreign guests included Francesco Verso, who has spent years celebrating Chinese SF in Italian and English; Disney storyboarder Grant Dalton Jr; and Vladimir Norov, the former foreign minister of Uzbekistan, subsequently Secretary-General of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation. We were very well looked after by Icy Xiaohan Chen, who I had met in Glasgow with Mr Gong, and her colleagues Caroline Yueqi Zhang and Lydia Xia Qian. (I am following the convention that if people have Western names, I use Western name-personal name-surname, but if they don’t, I use surname-personal name; the ladies I just mentioned are Chen Xiaohan, Zhang Yueqi and Qian Xia to their friends.)

We were given a tour of the ZGC Science Fiction Industry Innovation Centre, where I tried out a VR helmet and found myself in outer space, then on a spaceship, then on the surface of the moon.

A middle aged white man discovers Chinese VR

Proprietary AI morphed my face into Chinese legend:

Back at the conference there were the inevitable dancing robots.

I talked to aspiring writers and student groups, and I may have committed television.

Some impressive cosplay as well.

Esther and Lydia with Three Body Problem crew

We were also hosted for various meals by a number of organisations. The Future Affairs Administration organised a fantastic Sichuan hotpot for us with the Chinese Doctor Who fans led by Yan Ru. Wang Jinkiang and Liu Cixin on behalf of the Beijing Yuanyu Science Fiction and Future Technology Research Institute hosted us for a Mongolian hotpot. And the China Science Fiction Research Centre and the China Research Institute for Science Popualarisation jointly hosted us for a Cantonese spread with Stanley Qiufan Chen. I must say that I came away with a much greater appreciation of the variety of regional cooking within China – on my first two evenings, I had two very different work-related meals both featuring Yunnan cuisine.

Yunnan fish hotpot, with a business contact
On the one hand, Lydia and Esther; on the other, writers Wang Jinkang and Francesco Verso; opposite me are Liu Cixin (writer of The Three-Body Problem) with Yan Ru (the Who fan from Wuhan) and Caroline nearest the camera; Mongolian hotpot between us.

I gave my own keynote speech to the conference as well of course, citing Mary Shelley, Jules Verne and Lao She.

Games being such a major part of it all, Esther was in her element (and spoke twice to my once):

The conference was held in a former industrial park in Shijingshan District, repurposed to host the 2022 Winter Olympics, so the architecture was a bit unusual.

This modern architecture is overlooked by the Gongbei Pavilion on top of the Shijinshan Mountain, a recent reconstruction on an ancient religious site.

One of the things I particularly came to appreciate is just how huge and varied China is. Beijing is in fact only the third biggest city in China. Shanghai is the second biggest, and Chongqing has the most inhabitants of any city in the world. How many of us could find Chongqing on a map? I met colleagues and fans from all over – from Hainan in the far south to Xinjiang in the northwest, and everywhere in between. Many of them had studied in North America or Europe, and come home to deploy their knowledge profitably. China knows more about us than we know about China.

To address the elephant in the room, I got a sense that for the Beijing folks, the mistakes made by Chengdu Worldcon are an embarrassment and they want to move forward (and incidentally reinforce Beijing’s centrality). I was grimly amused that two people separately recommended R.F. Kuang’s Babel to me; it is very popular in China, and when I replied that it had been banned from the 2023 Hugos, they shook their heads in disbelief.

In discussions with my professional contacts more generally, given that I was the man from Brussels, it will not surprise anyone that the topic of tariffs on electric vehicles came up a lot. I even got to drive one out in E-Town, the BAIC Stelato X9, which is capable of parking itself after you get out.

The Internet of Things is real in China. WeChat / Weixin is the go-to app for everything, and you need to have installed it and Alipay (and linked both to your payment system) before you go. The DeDe car-sharing app is a kind of super Uber – even out at the Great Wall it was possible to get a ride back to Beijing in three minutes. One taxi driver puzzled me as I got in by saying, in firmly interrogatory tones, “wǔ wǔ yāo sì?” I looked blank, so he held up five fingers twice, then one, then four – of course, the last four digits of my phone number, to confirm that I was the right client. (Taxis incidentally are very cheap, but the traffic in Beijing is awful – it took two hours to get from the conference centre on the western side of the city to the Sichuan hotpot on the east.) Shopkeepers and service staff would speak into their translation apps and show the  message that they wanted to convey in English. It can be useful to save frequently used phrases as an image.

I did three tourist expeditions. First, the Dongye Temple, a Daoist shrine within walking distance of my employers’ Beijing office, founded in 1319, gutted during the revolutionary period, restored in 2002. The courtyards are full of memorial steles.

The original gateway is now on the other side of the main road.

The joy of the temple is 76 small rooms, of which maybe half a dozen are clearly favoured by regular worshippers. Each small room contains a dozen statues representing a part of the Daoist otherworld, some of them more attractive than others.

Some of the individual statues are quite striking.

It’s a little dilapidated, but clearly still has a faithful following. I noted also a tree with ribbons tied to it, not so different from what you might find in rural Ireland.

The next day, I went to the Tiantan, the Temple of Heaven, one of the landmarks of Beijing. It’s a massive religious complex to the south of the Forbidden City, which I had visited in 2023. This is where the Emperor made the annual sacrifice for the continuing good of the kingdom. This is also where, sickeningly, the Eight-Nation Alliance led by the British and French based their occupying military forces during the Boxer Rebellion in 1900, building a railway station on the sacred ground. They didn’t teach you about that in school, did they?

At the sacred stone which is the Heart of Heaven, there was a queue of tourists waiting to stand on it; about half of them prayed when it was their turn, and about half posed for photos.

As with the Forbidden City, many people (almost all young women as far as I could tell) had chosen to dress up in traditional costume and pose for photographs.

Posing is definitely a thing.

And I also went out to the Great Wall, the largest man-made structure in existence. To get the 80 km up to Badaling is only €20 by DeDe, an hour from Shijinshan, and the same back again. Once you get to the base, there is a cable car ride up to the top. (Alternatively, you can hike up or down if you like, but I’m 57.)

It’s crowded, and the path along the top of the wall itself is steep, and there’s no explanation of what’s going on or what happened; but it’s a spectacular structure and a spectacular view. I don’t feel that I need to go back, but I’m very glad that I went.

Anyway, it was a fantastic trip, with good fellowship. Many thanks to Mr Gong and the Beijing Science and Technology Commission, and to my work colleagues, for looking after me for this extraordinary week and a bit. (Arrived 23 March; left, 1 April.)

A Christmas Carol, by Jaime Beckwith and Leslie Grace McMurtry (and Steven Moffat); and Charles Dickens

A Christmas Carol was the first Doctor Who Christmas special produced and written by Steven Moffat and starring Matt Smith. It has Amy and Rory trapped on a doomed spaceship, which for handwavium reasons only the Scrooge-like Kazan Sardick (Michael Gambon) can save. The Doctor goes into Sardick’s past to make him into a nicer person through the love of the beautiful Abigail (Katherine Jenkins). Unfortunately for more handwavium reasons this means that Sardick no longer has the power to save the doomed spaceship, but luckily Abigail’s voice resonates at just the right frequency, so she saves the day (it is implied that she then dies of some fatal but not very debilitating illness). The music is good.

I ranked it fourth out of five votes in that year’s Hugo Awards, noting:

Don’t get me wrong – this was a lovely episode of Doctor Who and just right for Christmas evening. But as a work of SF, I think the other nominees are better.

Rewatching it, I felt the same; it’s a remake of Dickens in Doctor Who terms with light comedic relief from Rory and Amy, the story line is a little too clever and also a little too simple (often the case with Steven Moffat), and it’s perfect fare for a day when you’re not expecting anything too demanding on the brain cells. It did inspire one of the more remarkable cosplays that I saw at Gallifrey One in 2013:

Jaime Beckwith and Leslie Grace McMurtry have taken the interesting tack of looking at the TV episode in the context of Charles Dickens, asserting firmly that it “remains the only explicit adaptation of another text in the Doctor Who back catalogue.” I disagree with that – I think that The Androids of Tara is even more closely aligned with The Prisoner of Zenda – but I can see their point.

A short introduction looks at Christmas specials in Davies and Moffat era Doctor Who.

The first chapter, “A Traditional English Christmas With Sharks”, considers the history of Christmas in Britain, the previous adaptations of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, and its importance in British popular culture.

The second chapter, “A Blot of Mustard, a Crumb of Cheese”, looks at Steven Moffat’s gift for transforming apparently normal situations into fairy tales.

The third chapter, “Time and Relative Child-centrism”, looks at children as focal narrative figures in Moffat’s Doctor Who. Its second paragraph is:

Had it always been thus? Could British audiences expect throughout the 20th and 21st centuries to encounter Dickens (and ACC [A Christmas Carol]) in late December? Certainly, on British television December was seen as a good time to air adaptations of Dickens’ works. On the BBC, adaptations of ACC aired on Christmas Day 1950, Christmas Eve 1977 and a few days before Christmas in 2019. The 1999 TV series of David Copperfield debuted on Christmas Day, and the 1976 episode of A Ghost Story for Christmas was an adaptation of the short story ‘The Signalman’ (1866). The Pickwick Papers (1952), David Copperfield (1974) and Great Expectations (2011) all first aired in December. In 2007, Dickens was central to the battle for the Christmas season ratings, with the BBC broadcasting a five-part adaptation of Oliver Twist in the week leading up to Christmas, and ITV airing a feature-length adaptation of The Old Curiosity Shop on Boxing Day (with production design by Michael Pickwoad, of whom more in Chapter 4).

The fourth and longest chapter, “The Pickwoad Papers”, looks in great and pleasing detail at the superb design of the story.

The fifth chapter, “What Right Have You To Be Merry?”, looks at the Doctor’s habit of interference in human timelines.

A brief conclusion, “Everything’s Got To End Some Time”, summarises the above.

I still feel that the actual story is not particularly memorable, but Beckwith and McMurtry gave me some pause for thought about where it came from. You can get their Black Archive here.

I only recently watched The Muppet Christmas Carol for the first time, which sticks surprisingly closely to the original text, but as a result of that experience combined with reading the Black Archive monograph, I was inspired to go back and read Dickens once again, probably for the first time since I was a child. The second paragraph of the third ‘Stave’ of the short book is:

Gentlemen of the free-and-easy sort, who plume themselves on being acquainted with a move or two, and being usually equal to the time of day, express the wide range of their capacity for adventure by observing that they are good for anything from pitch-and-toss to manslaughter; between which opposite extremes, no doubt, there lies a tolerably wide and comprehensive range of subjects. Without venturing for Scrooge quite as hardily as this, I don’t mind calling on you to believe that he was ready for a good broad field of strange appearances, and that nothing between a baby and a rhinoceros would have astonished him very much.

It’s tremendous, even when you know what is going to happen; Dickens sometimes succumbed to mawkish sentimentality, but here he largely keeps himself restrained and lets the story tell itself. I found I had something in my eye as I got to the end, and you will too. God bless Us, Every One!

You can get it here.