WSFS Business Meeting, online

The second session of the 2025 WSFS Business Meeting starts in 24 hours’ time, at 9 am PST, and will discuss (in Executive Session) the report of the Investigation Committee into the 2023 Hugos, of which I was a member, and various other rules changes and proposed new constitutional amendments. The first session was held on 3 July. You can find File 770‘s write-up here. I think it was a success. You can watch it here.

I spoke three times, at 1:19:50, 1:41:30 and 2:26:35; the vote went my way on the first two items that I spoke on, and the third, which I opposed, was referred to a committee, which is not a bad hit rate. (At least by my standards.)

I felt that it gained a great deal by being online and asynchronous with the convention. The most obvious gain was in numbers – 160 or so participants were present, which is more than normally show up for the in-person business meeting at WorldCon. The crucial vote on whether the meeting itself was in order and quorate under the rules was passed by 102 to 46. That was the highest participation in a vote all evening; the lowest was on C2 where 114 voted (though all other votes had over 120 participants).

By contrast, in Glasgow the two elections held at the 2024 Business Meeting attracted 89 and 88 votes, and the four counted votes ranged from 55 to 88 participants. In Chicago in 2022, the election for the Mark Protection Committee attracted 90 votes, and the serpentine counts ranged from 55 to 91. The highest counted vote in Chengdu in 2023 was 32, and the second highest 21, though my personal impression was that there were a lot more people than that in the room (despite complaints about its location). So the 3 July session had a lot more participants than the two previous Business Meetings combined.

One of the arguments that was made in favour of the online meeting was that it would boost participation from those who are unable to attend the in-person meetings due to other commitments, notably, running the actual convention. I think on pure numbers, the online Business Meeting proved its case on 3 July. I am not so sure if we brought in new speakers; there were indeed some new voices, but there were plenty of old ones (including my own), and in particular I’d like to hear more from the actual Worldcon runners. Perhaps tomorrow’s agenda will be more fruitful in that regard.

(The highest number of counted votes at a Business Meeting that I can quickly find was the vote to introduce E Pluribus Hugo in 2015, in the urgency of the Puppy crisis, where there were 186 in favour and 62 against, a total of 248 and a margin of exactly three to one. I hope we won’t see such dire circumstances again. Of course in many cases, votes at an in-person meeting are decided by a show of hands, and the fact that we take a 30-60 second interval to count votes in the on-line meeting does slow things down; but it also ensures that everyone’s vote is counted.)

The online aspect doesn’t take out all of the tedium – we really did not need to spend 25 minutes debating which bits of C.2 needed to be passed, and the fact that the meeting’s lowest participation vote came at the end of that is probably significant, but the great thing about watching in front of your computer is that you can go and get yourself a drink or a snack while waiting for that bit to be over.

There is much discussion about the way forward. Some object that this year’s meeting is not being held according to the rules, though that argument is surely over now, especially since future Business Meetings will presumably accept the decisions made this year. A nightmare proposal is that there could be a hybrid meeting. I am firmly opposed to that; I think you either have to go one way or the other. Counting votes cast both virtually and in person, and managing debate between online and in-person participants, will be brutal. We’ll see what happens in the remaining three on-line meetings this year, but I’m hopeful that the fully virtual process will successfully prove that it can (and perhaps even should) be done this way in future.

Meanwhile my own personal guide to the agenda remains available for consultation here:

12 July books

Non-fiction
The Periodic Table, by Primo Levi (2008)

Non-genre
The Virgin in the Garden, by A.S. Byatt (2024)

SF
So Long Been Dreaming: Postcolonial Visions of the Future, eds Nalo Hopkinson and Uppinder Mehan (2009)
Your Code Name is Jonah, by Edward Packard (2018)
Atlantis Fallen, by C.E. Murphy (2023)
The Circus Infinite, by Khan Wong (2023)

Doctor Who
Timewyrm: Exodus, by Terrance Dicks (2006)
Doctor Who and the Visitation, by Eric Saward (2008)
Doctor Who – Arc of Infinity, by Terrance Dicks (2008)
Doctor Who – Snakedance, by Terrance Dicks (2008)
Doctor Who – Mawdryn Undead, by Peter Grimwade (2008)
Doctor Who – Terminus, by John Lydecker / Steve Gallagher (2008)
Doctor Who – Enlightenment, by Barbara Clegg (2008)
Doctor Who – The King’s Demons, by Terence Dudley (2008)
Doctor Who – The Five Doctors, by Terrance Dicks (2008)
Downtime, by Marc Platt (2009)

Comics
The Unwritten Vol. 6: Tommy Taylor and the War of Words, by Mike Carey (2016)
Marzi: A memoir, by Marzena Sowa (2017)

The Best
Primo Levi’s The Periodic Table is a humane and inspiring meditation on humanity through the lens of chemical elements. (Review; get it here.)

Honorable mentions
The anthology So Long Been Dreaming: Postcolonial Visions of the Future brings forward a number of important voices to the spectrum of sf writing. (Review; get it here.)
A lot of people seem to disdain the first of A.S. Byatt’s Federica novels, The Virgin in the Garden, but I was fascinated and amused by it. (Review; get it here.)

The one you haven’t heard of
C.E. Murphy has not (yet) had the recognition that she deserves in terms of winning awards, yet she consistently churns out good to excellent fantasy (and occasionally sf). You could do worse than start with her Atlantis Fallen. (Review; get it here).

The one to avoid
Terence Dudley’s novelisation of his own Doctor Who story, The King’s Demons, is very disappointing. (Review; get it here.)

“The Faery Handbag”, by Kelly Link

Third paragraph (it has no sections):

One time we were looking through kid’s t-shirts and we found a Muppets t-shirt that had belonged to Natalie in third grade. We knew it belonged to her, because it still had her name inside, where her mother had written it in permanent marker, when Natalie went to summer camp. Jake bought it back for her, because he was the only one who had money that weekend. He was the only one who had a job.

This was the subject of the very last of my first set of reviews of joint winners of the Hugos and Nebulas in the written fiction categories, published in January 2008 before I completely ran out of steam for that project. I wrote then:

I didn’t vote for it. Indeed, I put it last of the five nominees in the novelette category for the Hugos, where I had a vote as a Worldcon member; not because I didn’t like it, but because I liked the other stories on the ballot even more. The result was the closest of the four fiction categories, and voters found it difficult to choose for the lower places – second place decided by a single vote, joint win for third place. I don’t begrudge the result; all five nominees were very good, and I see that by the time the Nebulas came around I had changed my views and put it top (though three of the other four stories of course were different). Well, what was it Emerson said about consistency?

In fairness to myself, I think it’s a story that grows on you. On first reading I found it very entertaining but didn’t think it was especially deep; part of my increase in affection for it came about as a result of reading the whole Magic for Beginners collection of Kelly Link’s stories and developing a taste for her particular style of magical realism, urban fantasy, underlaid with darker tones. ‘The Faery Handbag’ is a story told by Genevieve, a young woman living near Boston whose grandmother came with her handbag from far-off Baldeziwurlekistan; the handbag may or may not contain a fierce canine guardian, Grandmother Zofia’s home village, Genevieve’s grandfather Rustam and her boyfriend Jake. But Genevieve has lost the handbag (this is not a spoiler as she tells us so on the second page). And that’s about it.

Part of my initial under-appreciation of the story may be my own background, as a native of Northern Ireland who has worked on the various different countries of Eastern Europe for the last eleven years. Perhaps from an American perspective, Baldeziwurlekistan is an amusing mix of those funny European countries over there, combining Celtic, Germanic, Slavic and classical elements in its mythology. For me, the lack of precision in the geography of Baldeziwurlekistan was a problem; I need to know where things are on the map, and Link’s story is about taking them off the map. I also found myself a bit frustrated by the narrator’s ambiguity about her own reliability, though other reviewers felt this was part of the story’s charm.

Having said that, I agree with everyone who loves Link’s descriptive writing here, from the account of looking through second-hand clothes in the first paragraph to the poignancy of Zofia’s death at the end; and the way we learn about the narrator’s frame of mind from the way she describes the events around her is tremendously subtle and effective. Indeed, as Abigail Nussbaum points out, it’s a bit more approachable than some of Link’s other stories, which may (again) be part of the reason I didn’t quite take to it immediately. But I’ve found it rather a difficult story to grasp sufficiently to write about, which is part of the reason this series of reviews has been on hiatus for seventeen months.

(And of course I never returned to that sequence, instead rebooting the joint Hugo and Nebula winners in chronological order starting in 2017.)

Rereading the story now, I found that it has grown on me again – in particular I loved the resonance between grandmother Zofia and grandfather Rustam, and present-day Genevieve and boyfriend Jake. And perhaps I have got more used to American humour in the last two decades, but I found the story funnier than my recollection. Definitely worth revisiting. “The Faery Handbag” is available on Link’s website for free.

“The Faery Handbag” won the Hugo for Best Novelette in Glasgow in 2005, the first ceremony that I attended. Best Novel went to Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke; Best Novella to “The Concrete Jungle”, by Charles Stross; and Best Short Story to “Travels with My Cats”, by Mike Resnick.

These were the days of the crazy Nebula nominations system, so it won the 2005 Nebula for Best Novelette in 2006 (for a 2004 publication). Best Novel went to Camouflage, by Joe Haldeman; Best Novella to “Magic for Beginners”, also by Kelly Link; and Best Short Story to “I Live With You”, by Carol Emshwiller (who turned 85 the month before the ceremony).

Of the other Best Novelette finalists, “The People of Sand and Slag” by Paolo Bacigalupi was on the ballot with “The Faery Handbag” both times, and “The Voluntary State” by Christopher Rowe was on the same Hugo ballot and the previous year’s Nebula ballot.

Next in this sequence: “Two Hearts”, by Peter S. Beagle.

I don’t know where this illustration comes from, but it’s cute.

11 July books

Non-fiction
The Megalith Builders of Western Europe, by Glyn Daniel (2007)
Asteroids: A History, by Curtis Peebles (2007)
The Nobel Prizes, by Burton Feldman (2007)
Queen Elizabeth I, by J.E. Neale (2009)
In Xanadu, by William Dalrymple (2017)
The Complete Ice Age, ed. Brian M. Fagan (2018)
After the War: How to Keep Europe Safe, by Paul Taylor (2023)
The Myth Makers, by Ian Z. Potter (2024)

Non-genre
Once in a Blue Moon, by Magnus Mills (2007)
Three To See the King, by Magnus Mills (2007)
Faith, by Joanna Trollope (2007)
Far From the Madding Crowd, by Thomas Hardy (2009)

Scripts
Antigone, by Sophocles (2012)
Oedipus the Tyrant , by Sophocles (2012)
Oedipus at Colonus, by Sophocles (2012)

SF
Newton’s Wake, by Ken MacLeod (2004)
The Human Abstract, by George Mann (2004)
Cartomancy, by Mary Gentle (2004)
The Magicians, by Lev Grossman (2011)
Catfishing on CatNet, by Naomi Kritzer (2020)
Deeplight, by Frances Hardinge (2020)
Dragon Pearl, by Yoon Ha Lee (2020)
Minor Mage, by T. Kingfisher (2020)
Riverland, by Fran Wilde (2020)
The Wicked King, by Holly Black (2020)
Bluebird, by Ciel Pierlot (2023)

Doctor Who, etc
Martha in the Mirror
, by Justin Richards (2010)

The best, also the one you haven’t heard of
I’m going to give top billing to the book on this list that I read most recently, Ian Potter’s survey of the history behind the 1965 Doctor Who story The Myth Makers, which goes in depth into the personal stories of two of the key people behind the camera, as well as the usual analysis of what the story is actually about. (Review; get it here.)

Honourable mentions
Two of the books on the 2020 Lodestar Award ballot (reviewed here) struck me as especially impressive: Naomi Kritzer’s Catfishing on CatNet (which won; get it here) and Frances Hardinge’s Deeplight (get it here).
William Dalrymple’s In Xanadu, an account of his student-era retracing of the route of Marco Polo from Palestine to China, is an old favourite. (Review; get it here.)

The one you haven’t heard of
The Myth Makers
, as described above.

The one to avoid
George Mann’s The Human Abstract was one of a number of books I reviewed for the old Infinity Plus website; it was by far the worst of them. (Infinity Plus review; get it here.)

The Ancient Paths, by Graham Robb

Second paragraph of third chapter:

After two hundred years of scholarship, the Gaulish language is better known today than it was at the end of the Roman empire. The literal sense of the word ‘Mediolanum’ is now well established. The Gaulish dictionary compiled by Xavier Delamarre defines it as ‘a term of sacred geography: ‘a holy centre… perhaps a central point of reference on the vertical axis of the three worlds – upper, middle and lower’. For students of the Celts, this is familiar ground. In Celtic mythology, ‘middle’ was a three-dimensional term. It referred not only to the earth that lies between the upper and the lower worlds, but also to the intersection of lines based on the cardinal points. According to Celtic legend, Ireland was divided in the first century AD into four kingdoms, each of which gave a part of itself to form a fifth, central kingdom called Mide (or Meath), signifying ‘middle’. This is the cruciform pattern that can be seen on the ceremonial Celtic bronze spoons which began to appear all over Europe in about 800 c. It usually takes the form of two perpendicular lines with a circle at the centre. The so-called Celtic cross of the early Christian Church is probably a direct descendant of those designs.

I was intrigued by this book which offered to unfold the Celtic geographies of Europe, but unfortunately it is all crank stuff, written by someone who spent too long thinking deep thoughts while on long bike trips and then staring into the Internet, and not enough time talking to actual experts or reading up on the scholarship. You can get it here, but I wouldn’t bother.

This was my top unread book acquired in 2022, and would also have been next in line as my top unread non-fiction book if I had finished The Burgundians first, but I didn’t. Next on those piles respectively are The Master, by Louise Cooper, and The Bone Woman, by Clea Koff.

10 July books

Non-fiction
The Bloody Sunday Report, volume III (2010)
Sculptor’s Daughter, by Tove Jansson (2015)
Sapiens: A Brief History of Mankind, by Yuval Noah Harari (2017)
The King of Almayne: a 13th century Englishman in Europe, by T.W.E. Roche (2022)

Non-genre
The Great Fortune, by Olivia Manning (2005)
The Spoilt City, by Olivia Manning (2005)
Friends and Heroes, by Olivia Manning (2005)
Skinny Dip, by Carl Hiassen (2005)
The Decameron, by Giovanni Boccaccio (2011)
Glimmer of Hope, Glimmer of Flame, by Ag Apolloni (2024)

SF
The Postscripts BSFA Sampler, ed. Peter Crowther and Nick Gevers (2012)
Peter & Max, by Bill Willingham (2015)
Robot Visions, by Isaac Asimov (2018)
The Golden Fleece aka Hercules, My Shipmate, by Robert Graves (2020)
Land of Terror, by Edgar Rice Burroughs (2020)
Shadow Over Mars aka The Nemesis from Terra, by Leigh Brackett (2020)
Sirius: A Fantasy of Love and Discord, by Olaf Stapledon (2020)
The Wind on the Moon, by Eric Linklater (2020)
The Winged Man, by A.E. van Vogt and E. Mayne Hull (2020)
The Memory Librarian, ed. Janelle Monáe (2023)
Ion Curtain, by Anya Ow (2023)

Doctor Who, etc
In The Shadows, by Joseph Lidster (2010)

The best, and also the one you haven’t heard of
The King of Almayne: A 13th Century Englishman in Europe is a fantastic biography of the English prince who almost became Holy Roman Emperor and died 750 years ago. Unless you’ve been subjected to one of my previous rants about Richard of Cornwall, brother of Henry III, you may not have heard of him. A remarkable individual in a remarkable time. (Review; get it here)

Honorable mentions
The Decameron – classic stories of grim Renaissance life, including a surprise reference to County Down. (Review; get it here)
Skinny Dip, by Carl Hiaasen – one of his many bizarre tales of the alternative reality that is Florida. (Review; get it here.)
Sirius, by Olaf Stapledon – Long before Diana Wynne Jones, a dog with extrahuman powers in today’s world… (Review; get it here)

The one you haven’t heard of
See above. (The King of Almayne)

The one to avoid
Land of Terror, by Edgar Rice Burroughs is racist rubbish. (Review; get it here)


Wednesday reading

Current
Down, by Laurence Miles
Year’s Best Aotearoa New Zealand Science Fiction and Fantasy: Volume I, ed Marie Hodgkinson
Around the World in 80 Games, by Marcus du Sautoy

Last books finished
Fractures, by Robbie Morrison et al
Beautiful Star, by Yukio Mishima
The Revenant Express, by George Mann (did not finish)
Raven Heart, by Murphy Lawless
A Small Semblance of Home, by Paul Phipps
The Coming Wave: AI, Power and Our Future, by Mustafa Suleyman 

Next books
Spectral Scream, by Hannah Fergesen
Tides of the Titans, by Thoraiya Dyer
The Iliad, by Homer, tr. Emily Wilson

1913: The Year Before the Storm, by Florian Illies

Second paragraph of March chapter in original German:

Meier-Graefes Haus in Nikolassee atmete französischen Chic, hatte Eleganz und eine gewisse Behäbigkeit, es war perfekt zugeschnitten auf den gerade 50Jahre alt gewordenen Meier-Graefe und seine Ehefrau (ein paar Jahre später übrigens wurde dann der Architekt Epstein post mortem sein Schwiegervater, weil Meier-Graefe in dritter Ehe dessen Tochter Annemarie heiratete, aber das verwirrt jetzt nur). Hier, im Kirchweg 28. »draußen auf dem Lande«, wie Meier-Graefe in Briefen an den Maler Edvard Munch sein Haus lokalisierte, entstand 1913 ein zentrales Werk der Kunstgeschichtsschreibung: »Die Entwicklungsgeschichte der modernen Kunst«, die ab 1914 erscheinen sollte.Meier-Graefe’s house in Nikolassee exuded French chic, had elegance and an air of cosiness, it was perfectly tailored to Meier-Graefe, who had just turned 50, and his wife (a few years later, by the way, the architect Epstein became his father-in-law posthumously, because Meier-Graefe married his daughter Annemarie in his third marriage, but that’s just confusing). Here, at Kirchweg 28, ‘out in the country’, as Meier-Graefe described his house in letters to the painter Edvard Munch, a central work of art historiography was written in 1913: ‘The History of the Development of Modern Art’, which was to be published from 1914.
My translation because this section is missing from the English version that I bought.

I picked this up cheap in a Leuven bookshop a couple of weeks ago, partly out of interest in contrasting it with a similar book by my friend Charles Emmerson. Both of them look at the world in 1913 through contemporary records, with the benefit of hindsight and knowing what was around the corner.

Florian Illies’ book looks mainly at the German and Austrian empires, from Kiel to Trieste, with occasional excursions to Britain, France, Italy and America. It’s a fascinating delineation of the links between politics, science and the arts. Stalin and Hitler are both known to have enjoyed strolling in the gardens of the Schönbrunn Palace in Vienna that January, and may have tipped their hats to each other as they passed. Franz Kafka had an on-and-off relationship with Felice Bauer. Thomas Mann was coming to terms with his own sexuality. James Joyce was teaching and writing in Trieste. Rilke was loving and writing. Freud and Jung were treating people. The Futurists were starting. Proust self-published Du côté de chez Swann. I had never heard of Der Tunnel, in which a tunnel is built connecting America and Europe. The Mona Lisa, stolen in 1911, was found in Italy in December. There were school shootings in Bremen and Württemberg. Oskar Kokoschka and Alma Mahler launched into their passionate affair, commemorated in Kokoschka’s art.

I found a lot of new names here, particularly literary women who had previously escaped me – Lou Andreas-Salomé, Else Lasker-Schüler, Coco Chanel. There are lots of elements all adding up to a thought-provoking portrait of a time and several places, from an angle I don’t know as well as I thought I did.

I was dismayed to discover that my translation has been cut by around 20% – the German original has 324 pages, my English version only 267. There is no hint of any abridgement anywhere in my copy. That’s frankly deceptive on the part of the English language publisher.

You can get it here.

9 July books

Non-fiction
The Age of Fallibility: Consequences of the War on Terror, by George Soros (2006)
A History of Modern Sudan, by Robert O. Collins (2009)
The Root Causes of Sudan’s Civil Wars, by Douglas H. Johnson 2009)
Emma’s War: Love, Betrayal and Death in the Sudan, by Deborah Scroggins (2009)
Becoming Superman: My Journey from Poverty to Hollywood, by J. Michael Straczynski (2020)
Joanna Russ, by Gwyneth Jones (2020)
The Lady from the Black Lagoon: Hollywood Monsters and the Lost Legacy of Milicent Patrick, by Mallory O’Meara (2020)
The Pleasant Profession of Robert A. Heinlein, by Farah Mendlesohn (2020)

Non-genre
Intimacy aka The Wall, by Jean-Paul Sartre (2022)

SF
Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury (2006)
Malpertuis, by Jean Ray (2009)

Comics
The Day I Swapped My Dad For 2 Goldfish, by Neil Gaiman (2011)

This is a good day, with the above having an average of 4.3 stars out of five on my LibraryThing catalogue, and only one book with less than four. Still, there is one standout.

The best
Really you cannot beat the short bleak vision of Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. (Review; get it here.)

Honorable mentions
Two of the 2020 Best Related Work Hugo finalists (reviewed here) were particularly outstanding, Mallory O’Meara’s biography of Milicent Patrick (get it here) and Farah Mendlesohn’s study of Robert A. Heinlein (get it here).
To that I would also add Emma’s War, which still reverberates across her adopted country (South Sudan) today. (Review; get it here.)

The ones you haven’t heard of
I know that Sudan is a minority interest, but the two histories by Robert Collins (get it here) and Douglas Johnson (get it here) have different strengths and deserve to be better known. (Both reviewed with Emma’s War, above.)

The ones to avoid
None. I didn’t get on with Gwyneth Jones on Joanna Russ, but it’s far from awful. (Review; get it here.)

Would She Be Gone, by Melanie Harding-Shaw

Second paragraph of third section:

“Detective Wright, you are cleared to continue your operation. Re-establish contact and proceed as planned,” Palmer said.

A short bleak dystopian satire set in a world where literature is under state control, and the apparatus of government security forces is used to stop people from encountering dangerous ideas, striking through their families. Hits quite hard. You can get it here.

This was the shortest unread book that I had acquired in 2020. Next on that pile is Raven Heart, by “Murphy Lawless”.

8 July books

Non-fiction
The Desert Fathers: Sayings of the Early Christian Monks, translated and with an Introduction by Benedicta Ward (2007)
The Desert Fathers: Translations from the Latin with an Introduction by Helen Waddell (2007)
The Faerie Queene: a selection of critical essays, edited by Peter Bayley (2011)
The Johnstown Flood, by David McCullough (2021)

Non-genre
The Mermaids Singing, by Lisa Carey (2012)
The Commissioner, by Stanley Johnson (2016)

SF
The Romance of the Three Kingdoms, attributed to Luo Guanzhong (2015)
The Master and Margarita, by Mikhail Bulgakov (2020)
The Monk, by Matthew Lewis (2022)

Doctor Who
Doctor Who: Planet of the Ood, by Keith Temple (2024)

The Best
The Johnstown Flood – magisterial account by the great David McCullough in his younger days of a man-made disaster that wiped out a town in Pennsylvania in 1889; one of the victims was the uncle of my as-yet-unborn grandmother. A book of both its times, ie 1889 and 1968. (Review; get it here)

Honorable mentions:
The Desert Fathers, Waddell translation – the thoughts of the saints who isolated themselves in the desert are by definition a bit dry, but Helen Waddell invests them with humour and sympathy. (Review; get it here)
The Master and Margarita – one of the great Russian fantasy novels of that creative period soon after the Revolution. (Review; get it here)

The one you haven’t heard of
Even though it was made into a film starring John Hurt, the original novel, The Commissioner, by Stanley Johnson (father of Boris) is not that well known (only 11 owners on LibraryThing, 10 ratings on Goodreads). A tale of Brussels skullduggery in more innocent times. (Review; get it here)

The ones to avoid
I’m leaving this category clear again; none of the above is awful. I didn’t gel with Three Kingdoms, but that’s on me at least as much as the writer and translator. There are enough ghosts and sorcery for it to qualify as sf above. (Review; get it here)

Castrovalva, by Andrew Orton (and Christopher H. Bidmead); and some reflections on Escher

I was again glued to the TV in January 1982 as Peter Davison took on the role of the Fifth Doctor in Castrovalva, and I really enjoyed the look and feel of the story, even if the plot was a little confusing. I was fourteen. When I came back to it in 2007, I wrote:

This was the first Peter Davison story and is one of the better ones, but a bit atypical in that the Doctor spends much of the time trying to reconstruct his own personality. Lots of lovely nods to earlier Doctors, most of which were rather lost on me in 1981. The companions are still rather feeling their way, with Nyssa being the clever one who explains everything, coming across as rather cold despite her warm and fuzzy fairy costume, while Tegan gets to be the one who everything has to be explained to. Adric seems to have rather enjoyed being tied up by the Master… The plot doesn’t really make a lot of sense, but the depictions of two magical places – Castrovalva itself and the Tardis interior – are both rather wonderful, and the music and general sense of goodwill makes it still good viewing.

Continue reading

7 July books

Non-fiction
The Economist Style Guide (2006)
Young Elizabeth, by Alison Plowden (2012)
Danger to Elizabeth, by Alison Plowden (2012)
Marriage with My Kingdom: The Courtships of Queen Elizabeth I, by Alison Plowden (2012)
Elizabeth Regina, by Alison Plowden (2012)
The Bible: The Biography, by Karen Armstrong (2012)
Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, by Harriet Ann Jacobs (2012)
The Russian Phoenix, by Francis House (2012)
TARDIS Eruditorum Volume 3: Jon Pertwee, by Philip Sandifer (2013)
Boys in Zinc, by Svetlana Alexievich (2021)

Non-genre
The Name of the Rose, by Umberto Eco (2013)
Dark Horse, by Fletcher Knebel (2016)
Gigi, and The Cat, by Colette (2019)

SF
The Stories of Hans Christian Andersen, translated and edited by Jeffrey Frank and Diana Crone Frank (2007)
Danny the Champion of the World, by Roald Dahl (2013)
True History, by Lucian of Samosata (2015)
Dreaming in Smoke, by Tricia Sullivan (2020)
The Extremes, by Christopher Priest (2020)
Aurora: Beyond Equality, eds Vonda N. McIntyre and Susan Anderson (2023)
The Splendid City by Karen Heuler (2023)

Doctor Who
Doctor Who Annual 1986 (2011)
Risk Assessment, by James Goss (2012)

Comics
Rose de Paris, by Gilles Schlesser and Eric Puech (2018)
Junker: een Pruisische blues, by Simon Spruyt (2022)

The Best
Today’s pick is a political novel from the early 1970s which I bet you have never heard of: Dark Horse, by Fletcher Knebel. Due to the Republican candidate’s death shortly before the 1976 election, an obscure politician from New Jersey – “a corridor of swampy weather and toadstool habitations that called itself a state” – is elevated to political superstar status, and tries to use it for good. There are no TV debates. There is a sub-plot with a sex tape of which there is only one copy. It’s just great. (Review; get it here.)

Honorable Mentions
I’m in a forgiving mood today, so you can have four:
The Name of the Rose – the fascinating medieval novel by Umberto Eco. (Review; long footnote; get it here.)
Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl – gruelling first-person account of the real effects of the “peculiar institution”. (Review; get it here.)
Boys in Zinc – the human impact of the post-Soviet wars on ordinary Russian soldiers and their ordinary families. Helped win the writer a Nobel prize. (Review; get it here.)
Risk Assessment – one of James Goss’s many excellent contributions to the Whoniverse, this time concerning Torchwood. (Review; get it here)

The one you haven’t heard of
Aurora: Beyond Equality – a useful representation of both how far sf had come in 1976 and how much farther there still was to go. (Review; get it here.)

The ones to avoid
I’m leaving this category blank today; I like some of the above more than others, but none is actually awful.

The Prince of Secrets, by A.J. Lancaster

Second paragraph of third chapter:

<Stop that,> she told the land firmly, pushing its attention away from Wyn. <You’re fond of him, remember? I know his secrecy is trying, sometimes, but this reaction is quite out of proportion to the offense. He’s our friend.> Friend wasn’t quite the right label anymore, but she hadn’t found a new one yet that didn’t sound either silly or premature.

Another from the 2020 Hugo packet, a second installment of a series set in a secondary world which simply failed to draw me in. The fact that I was reading Jeannette Ng’s (much better) Under the Pendulum Sun at the same time didn’t do it any favours. I stopped around page 100. You can get it here.

This was my top unread book acquired in 2020. Next on that pile is The Revenant Express, by George Mann, which I’m approaching with some trepidation as I haven’t always found his writing to my taste.

The best known books set in each country: Mali

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

These numbers are crunched by hand, not by AI.

TitleAuthorGoodreads
raters
LibraryThing
owners
SaharaClive Cussler60,0054,040
The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu and Their Race to Save the World’s Most Precious ManuscriptsJoshua Hammer 12,0951,721
Sundiata: An Epic of Old Mali(anonymous)2,889748
Monique and the Mango Rains: Two Years With a Midwife in MaliKris Holloway 4,958399
SeguMaryse Condé 1,973641
The Black PagesNnedi Okorafor 4,21590
I Lost My Tooth In AfricaPenda Diakité 517629
The Book Smugglers of Timbuktu: The Quest for This Storied City and the Race to Save its TreasuresCharlie English 1,010252

After a couple of countries which were harder work, I was glad that Mali turned out to be fairly straightforward – the city of Timbuktu gives it a certain brand recognition. I wasn’t completely sure about this week’s winner at first, a typically convoluted Cussler tale which climaxes with an absurd revelation about the fate of Abraham Lincoln, but a speedy page count revealed that it does indeed appear to be more than 50% set in Mali, so it qualifies. Glad to see the traditional Malian epic Sundiata doing well also.

I did disqualify ten books. With a particularly heavy heart, I ruled out Scales of Gold by Dorothy Dunnett, because although more than half of it is set in West Africa, I think less than half is set in what’s now Mali. Tremendous book though.

Similarly, I was not quite sure about Masquerade, by O.O. Sangoyomi, but I think that more than half of it is set in the fictional city of Ṣàngótẹ̀ and I’m pretty sure that’s meant to be in what’s now Nigeria. The Bitter Side of Sweet, by Tara Sullivan, is set in Côte d’Ivoire. The Book of Negroes, by Lawrence Hill, is set in Canada. Haben: The Deafblind Woman Who Conquered Harvard Law, by Haben Girma, is set in the USA and the protagonist is Eritrean by origin, so I don’t know why people connect it with Mali. The Green Road, by Anne Enright, is mostly set in Ireland.

The Shadow of the Sun, by Ryszard Kapuściński, Leo Africanus, by Amin Maalouf, Sahara, by Michael Palin and China’s Second Continent, by Howard W. French, all cover numerous countries, with much less than half of each book set in Mali.

Coming next: Burkina Faso, Sri Lanka, Taiwan and Malawi.

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 | Israel
Americas: USA | Brazil (revised) | Mexico | Colombia | Argentina | Canada | Peru | Venezuela | Chile | 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 | Togo | Sierra Leone
Europe: Russia | Türkiye | Germany | France | UK | Italy | Spain | Poland | Ukraine | Romania | Netherlands | Belgium | Sweden | Czechia | Azerbaijan | Portugal | Greece | Hungary | Austria | Switzerland | Belarus
Oceania: Australia | Papua New Guinea

6 July books

Non-fiction
The Making of Doctor Who, by Malcolm Hulke and Terrance Dicks (2007)
Self-Portrait, by Anneke Wills (2015)
Naked, by Anneke Wills (2015)

Non-genre
Housekeeping, by Marilynne Robinson (2013)

Script
Le Mariage de Figaro, by Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais (2018)

SF
The Prisoner, by Thomas M. Disch (2006)
The Mind of Mr Soames, by Charles Eric Maine (2007)
Farthing, by Jo Walton (2008)
Frankenstein Unbound, by Brian Aldiss (2016)
De piraten van de Zilveren Kattenklauw, by “Geronimo Stilton” (2017)
“Bears Discover Fire”, by Terry Bisson (2023)
“The Hemingway Hoax”, by Joe Haldeman (2023)
Titan Blue, by M.B. Fox (2023)

Doctor Who
Hunter’s Moon, by Paul Finch (2013)
Something Borrowed, by Richelle Mead (2013)

Comics
Afspraak in Nieuwpoort, by Ivan Petrus Adriaenssens (2013)
De dag waarop de bus zonder haar vertrok, by Béka, Marko, and Maëla Cosson (2020)
De dag waarop ze haar vlucht nam, by Béka, Marko, and Maëla Cosson (2020)

The Best
Farthing, by Jo Walton, is a great what-if-Hitler-won alternate history; an alternate 1948, where Britain made peace with Germany in 1941 after Rudolf Hess’s mission. It is a crime novel that turns into a political parable. I couldn’t put it down. (Review; get it here)

Honourable mentions
Housekeeping, by Marilynne Robinson, another of her very humane tales of middle America. (Review; get it here)
The Making of Doctor Who (first edition), by Malcolm Hulke and Terrance Dicks, was the book whose second edition pushed a much younger me into fandom. (Review; get it here, at a price)

The one you haven’t heard of
Self-portrait, a charming and (I think) honest autobiography by Who actress Anneke Wills, bringing to life the Swinging Sixties. (Review; get it here)

The ones to avoid
Titan Blue was one of the least impressive books I looked at for the Clarke Award, real Nutty Nuggets stuff where the first female character to speak does so on page 48, and again on page 60. (Review; get it here)
Also to mention Doctor Who novel Hunter’s Moon (review; get it here), and mid-20th century British SF novel The Mind of Mr Soames (review; get it here) which were both rather poor.

Fear Death By Water, by Emily Cook

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Thankfully, her bedroom was on the third floor of Longstone Lighthouse. Flooding had been an unfortunately frequent occurrence in her downstairs bedroom at their old lighthouse on Brownsman Island. The windows often failed to withstand storms, meaning large waves would cascade through the broken frames and shattered glass. On one occasion, when she was a young girl, Grace came close to drowning as the room filled with seawater and forced the door shut. The memory of it still sent shivers down her spine with every subsequent storm that passed.

The first original Fifteenth Doctor novel, by Emily Cook, who organised the memorable Twitter watchalongs during lockdown in 2020. Set between the two Fifteenth Doctor seasons, it’s a straightforward aliens-intervene-in-celebrity-history story, the celebrity being lighthouse heroine Grace Darling (apparently a relative of Cook’s; Cook writes herself into the book as well) and the aliens turning out to have some complexity. Gorgeous characterisation of Ncuti’s Doctor, not massively original plot. You can get it here.

5 July books

Non-fiction
The Medieval Cookbook
, by Maggie Black (2007)
Why I am not a Christian, and other essays on religion and related subjects, by Bertrand Russell (2008)
Hope-In-The-Mist, by Michael Swanwick (2010)
The Bloody Sunday Report, Volume II (2010)
Carrying the Fire, by Michael Collins (2021)
Face the Raven, by Sarah Groenewegen (2022)
Franco-Irish Relations, 1500-1610: Politics, Migration and Trade, by Mary Ann Lyons (2023)

Non-genre
Mating, by Norman Rush (2015)
The Seven-Per-Cent Solution, by Nicholas Meyer ((2015)

Speculative fiction
Collected Short Stories, by E.M. Forster (2008)
Dune, by Frank Herbert (2017)
Moominvalley in November, by Tove Jansson (2018)
If Found Return to Hell, by Em X. Liu (2024)
The Death I Gave Him, by Em X. Liu (2024)

Doctor Who, etc
Turlough and the Earthlink Dilemma, by Tony Attwood (2009)
Loving the Alien, by Mike Tucker and Robert Perry (2017)
Doctor Who Annual 2020 (2020)

The Best
There are a lot of good books today, but the standout winner is Carrying the Fire, the memoir of astronaut Michael Collins, which was my book of the year for 2021. (Get it here.)

Honorable mentions
Dune, of course. (Get it here.)
Forster’s Collected Short Stories – you may be surprised that I list it under “Speculative fiction”, but ten of the twelve stories have fantasy elements. (Get it here.)
Loving the Alien concludes a nice set of Doctor Who novels by Tucker and Perry. (Get them here, here, here, here and here.)
Why I am not a Christian, and other essays is rather humane, and I agree with it more now than I did then. (Get it here.)

The one you haven’t heard of
Even though it was a Hugo finalist for Best Related Work that year, Hope-In-The-Mist, Michael Swanwick’s biography of Hope Mirrlees and explanation of her fantastic story Lud-in-the-Mist, doesn’t seem to have scored on the book ownership sites. It’s great though. (Get it here.)

The ones to avoid
The 2020 Doctor Who Annual is disappointingly lazy stuff. (Get it here.)
Also unimpressed by Mating and The Seven Per Cent Solution. (Get them here and here.)

Ireland in the Renaissance, 1540-1660, ed. Thomas Herron and Michael Potterton

Second paragraph of third chapter (‘The name of the country I have forgotten’ – remembering and dismembering in Sir Henry Sidney’s Irish Memoir (1583), by Willy Maley) – this is a long one!

In recent years, with the advent of the new historicism, local and topographical readings of early modern Ireland have been supplanted by more theoretically sophisticated work on mapping.⁵ This refinement of the relationship between literary culture and geographical understanding has been accompanied br a questioning of the extent to which accurate depiction of place was an essential prerequisite for conquest and colonization.⁶ Maps have gaps, just like texts, and their silences may be as eloquent as their inclusions.⁷ Perhaps the most famous mapping moment, the most remarkable unfolding of a chart in Renaissance literature outside of King Lear, is Spenser’s View of the Present State of Ireland (1596), when Eudoxus interrupts Irenius to say:

I see now all your men bestowed, but what places would you set their garrison that they might rise out most conveniently to service? and though perhaps I am ignorant of the places, yet I will take the mappe of Ireland before me, and lay it before me, and make mine eyes (in the meane time) my schoole-masters, to guide my understanding to judge of your plot.⁸

⁵ R.B. Gottfried’s ‘Irish geography in Spenser’s View‘, English Literary History, 6 (1939), 114-37, is an example of the earlier tradition. The recent criticism includes Bruce Avery, ‘Mapping the Irish Other: Spenser’s A view of the present state of Ireland, English Literary History, 57:2 (1990), 263-79; David Baker’s ‘Off the map: charting uncertainty in Renaissance Ireland’ in Brendan Bradshaw, Andrew Hadfield & Willy Maley (eds), Representing Ireland: literature and the origins of conflict, 1534-1660 (Cambridge, 1993), 76-92; Bernhard Klein’s ‘English cartographers and the mapping of Ireland in the early modern period’, Journal for the Study of British Cultures, 2:2 (1995), 115-39; Julia Lupton’s ‘Mapping mutability: or, Spenser’s Irish plot’ in Bradshaw et al. (eds), Representing Ireland, 93-115; and Joanne Woolway Grenfell, ‘Significant spaces in Edmund Spenser’s View of the present state of Ireland,’ Early Modern Literary Studies, 4:2, Special Issue 3 (September 1998), 6:1-21 URL:http://purl.oclc.org/ emis/04-2/woolsign.htm.
⁶ Peter Barber is among those who have questioned the obsession with cartographic evidence in reading the culture of the early modern period See ‘Was Elizabeth interested in maps – and did it matter?”, TRHS, 14 (2004), 185-98
⁷ J.B. Harley has argued along these lines in ‘Silences and secrecy: the hidden agenda of cartography in early modern Europe’, Imago Mundi, 40 (1988), 57-76. I am grateful to Thomas Herron for this reference. While I have some sympathy for Harley’s position, and find his use of Foucault persuasive, I am also partial to Foucault’s distinction between the ‘repressive hypothesis’ and an ‘incitement to discourse’. See ‘We “other” Elizabethans’, the introduction to Willy Maley, Salvaging Spenser: colonialism, culture and identity (Basingstoke, 1997), 1-10. I come closer to Harley in my ‘Forms of discrimination in Spenser’s A view of the state of Ireland (1596; 1633): from dialogue to silence’ in Willy Maley, Nation, state and empire in English Renaissance literature: Shakespeare to Milton (Basingstoke, 2003), pp 63-91. Cartography in a colonial context carries many dangers. Sir John Davies, writing to the privy council on 28 August 1609, reported the fate of a mapmaker in Ulster, where ‘the enhabitants tooke of his head, by cause they wouid not have their cuntrey discovered’. Cited in Brendan Bradshaw, Andrew Hadfield & Willy Maley (eds), Representing Ireland; literature and the origins of conflict, 1534-1660 (Cambridge, 1993), 13.
⁸ Andrew Hadfield & Willy Maley (eds), Edmund Spenser, A view of the state of Ireland (1633): from the first printed edition (Oxford & Malden, 1997), p. 96. All subsequent references are to this edition by page number in the text.

I’m still hoping to get around to my project on Irish history in the Tudor period at some point, and I will really not complain if that aspiration sometimes leads me to read brilliant books such as this.

There are sixteen substantial essays here, with an introduction by co-editor Herron, and none of them is a dud, which is really unusual for any book with separately commissioned pieces by that many authors. All of them address the proposition that there are many interesting things to say about Ireland and the Renaissance, two words that are not often used in the same sentence.

Eight of the chapters are about learning and literature (including one about the Counter-Reformation). Topics covered include the teacher Peter White (who I suspect may have been a distant relative of my family), Sir Henry Sidney of course, and the contemporary literary treatment of the glamorous Thomas Stukley.

Six chapters then look at artefacts, mostly architecture – the front cover features Sir Walter Ralegh’s place in County Cork, which still survives as a private residence! – with a bit of art as well, including Bartlett’s maps of the Nine Years War. The standout chapter for me was on the bridge at Athlone constructed by Sir Henry Sidney and demolished in 1844, or rather on the sculptures and inscriptions that adorned it.

Two final chapters examine the personal accounts of two aristocratic women who unsuccessfully defended their castles in 1641, and the celebrations in Dublin of the restoration of Charles II twenty years later. (Your regular reminder that the first recorded Indian immigrant to Ireland was burned out of his home by Irish nationalists.)

One last comment – this is a particularly heavy book, with lovely plates and illustrations, well produced from Four Courts Press. It will last for the ages. A grim comparison with the previous book I finished, Not So Quiet… by Helen Zenna Smith.

You can get it here.

This was the non-fiction book that had lingered longest unread on my shelves. Next on that list is The Making of Martin Luther, by Richard Rex.

4 July books

Non-fiction
Virgins, Weeders and Queens, by Twigs Way (2018)
A Handful of Earth, A Handful of Sky: The World of Octavia E. Butler, by Lynelle George (2021)
The Pandorica Opens / The Big Bang, by Philip Bates (2023)

Scripts
Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, by J. K. Rowling, John Tiffany and Jack Thorne (2017)

Poetry
Beowulf, translated by Maria Dahvana Headley (2021)

Speculative fiction
Deep Dive, by Ron Walters (2023)

Doctor Who, etc
The Price of Paradise, by Colin Brake (2009)
The Shakespeare Notebooks, by Goss, Morris, Richards, Richards & Sweet (2014)
Fear of the Dark, by Trevor Baxendale (2024)

Comics
Pussey!, by Daniel Clowes (2007)

Not as many as usual today. I will trim the Honorable Mentions, but I’ll also say that all three of the Doctor Who books are rather good (you can get them here, here and here)

The Best
Beowulf, translated by Maria Dahvana Headley, won the Hugo for Best Related Work that year; I didn’t vote for it, but it’s a great new take on an old story. (Get it here.)

The one you haven’t heard of
My old friend Twigs Way is a historian of gardening, and while I am not a gardener myself, Virgins, Weeders and Queens is a great historical miscellany. (Get it here, republished as A History of Women in the Garden.)

The one to avoid
Deep Dive was one of the Clarke submissions that year which failed to gel with me. (Get it here.)

Ship of Fools, by Dave Stone

Second paragraph of third chapter:

This arrangement, however, was strictly for the hoi polloi. If one were rich enough, one could use the docking facilities at the hub of the Mons Venturi wheel for private shuttle craft. Benny hauled herself through the airlock of one such of these, reflecting that all of this seemed to be a needlessly expensive method of transferring her back to the point from which she’d started, albeit several thousands of kilometres above it.

Next in the sequence of Bernice Summerfield novels, this was an interesting paired reading with Freya Marske’s A Restless Truth because it’s also an sfnal murder/crime mystery on a ship; a spaceship this time, with Bernice Summerfield pitted against the assembled wiles of the galaxy’s best / worst detectives to try and solve the identity of the mysterious thief known as the Cat’s Paw. (Who was prefigured in the previous three novels, though I didn’t notice.)

It’s generally funny and witty, and a good parody of the mystery genre with also some decent characterisation of Benny. As one reviewer puts it, Stone is “operating in a league entirely his own, even if nobody – himself included, one suspects – is quite certain exactly what sport he’s actually supposed to be playing.” Could have done without the digs at autism though, which really bring the book down a couple of points for me.

You can get it here.

3 July books

Non-fiction
No-Nonsense Guide to Global Media, by Peter Steven (2022)

Non-genre
Dead Souls, by Ian Rankin (2010)
Invisible Man, by Ralph Ellison (2011)
The English Patient, by Michael Ondaatje (2021)

Speculative fiction
The Holy Machine by Chris Beckett (2004)
The Book of the New Sun (four books), by Gene Wolfe (2005)
The Hidden War, by Michael Armstrong (2016)
The Area X trilogy (three books), by Jeff VanderMeer (2017)
Politically Correct Bedtime Stories, by James Finn Garner (2018)
Mickey⁷ by Edward Ashton (2023)
Linghun, by Ai Jiang (2024)

Comics
De Apenkermis, by Willy Vandersteen (2014)
Amoris van Amoras, by “Willy Vandersteen” [Paul Geerts] (2014)
Het Aruba-dossier, by “Willy Vandersteen” [Paul Geerts] (2014)

A slight change of format today.

The Best
Dead Souls is one of the better of the generally excellent Inspector Rebus novels. (Review; get it here)

Honorable mentions
Linghun, by Ai Jiang (review; get it here)
Mickey⁷ by Edward Ashton, now filmed as Mickey 17 (review; get it here)
The Holy Machine by Chris Beckett (my review on Infinity Plus; get it here)

Books that I rather bounced off though most other people thought they were great
The Book of the New Sun (four books), by Gene Wolfe (review; get it here and here)
The Area X trilogy (then three books, now four), by Jeff VanderMeer (review; get it here)
The English Patient, by Michael Ondaatje (review of film and book; get it here)

The ones to avoid
No-Nonsense Guide to Global Media, by Peter Steven – out of date and ranty. (Review; get it here)
The Hidden War, by Michael Armstrong – I didn’t last fifty pages. (Review; get it here)

Wednesday reading (late)

Forgot about this last night!

Current
Fractures, by Robbie Morrison et al
Beautiful Star, by Yukio Mishima
The Coming Wave: AI, Power and Our Future, by Mustafa Suleyman

Last books finished
The Green Man’s Quarry, by Juliet E. McKenna
Spent, by Alison Bechdel
The Gallant Edith Bratt: J.R.R. Tolkien’s Inspiration, by Nancy Bunting and Seamus Hamill-Keays
The Wren, The Wren, by Anne Enright
The Making of Martin Luther, by Richard Rex
F**k Work, Let’s Play: Do What You Love and Get Paid for It, by John Williams

Next books
Down, by Lawrence Miles
The Revenant Express, by George Mann
The Iliad, by Homer, tr. Emily Wilson

Not So Quiet…, by Helen Zenna Smith

Second paragraph of third chapter:

The stench that comes out as we open the doors each morning nearly knocks us down. Pools of stale vomit from the poor wretches we have carried the night before, corners the sitters have turned into temporary lavatories for all purposes, blood and mud and vermin and the stale stench of stinking trench feet and gangrenous wounds. Poor souls, they cannot help it. No one blames them. Half the time they are unconscious of what they are doing, wracked with pain and jolted about on the rough roads, for, try as we may—and the cases all agree that women drivers are ten times more thoughtful than the men drivers—we cannot altogether evade the snow-covered stones and potholes.

Powerful novel about the experiences of a woman ambulance driver on the front during the First World War, by Evadne Price, Australian-born writer and playwright, who in the last part of her career was a writer of astrology columns for magazines (more fiction, I guess). She had not actually been a V.A.D. driver herself, but drew heavily from a friend’s diary. It was commissioned as a satirical riposte to All Quiet on the Western Front, but ended up as something very different.

The key thing about the book is the visceral description of misery, trauma and death on the battlefield – and I am struggling to remember reading any other portrayal of trench warfare that is quite so explicit about the daily horror of it all. Most accounts dwell on the awfulness of death, without giving much attention to the awfulness of life in that situation.

But tied in with this is a constant reflection on class and gender. The narrator is an upper class woman, and class divisions do not completely dissolve on the battlefield. There is a memorably psychopathic supervisor. The relatives at home have no understanding of what is being done in their name.

And there is plenty of sex as well, though much less explicit than the body horror of the trenches. The narrator has a couple of flings. Her fiancé is grievously injured and cannot have children. There is a particularly memorable passage where the narrator lies to her rich aunt to get money for her sister’s abortion.

My edition has a 50-page afterword by Jane Marcus, who puts the book in context with other writing about the war by both women and men, and mentions a few other figures that I have bumped into in my explorations, notably Mary Borden, who later ran the WW2 hospital founded by my grandmother’s aunt and F.T. Jesse, who my grandmother met in 1926. And the whole story is interesting context for my great-great-aunt’s efforts. But even without that personal element, it is gripping. You can get it here.

My edition has a striking cover, a portrait of a V.A.D. driver by Gilbert Rogers. Unfortunately it does not seem a very robust publication, and after a few days of carrying it around in my bag, the pages and binding began to warp. I see that Virago have also done an edition, which may be longer lasting (but won’t have the Jane Marcus afterword).

2 July books

Non-fiction
Saki: A Life of Hector Hugh Munro, with six short stories never before collected, by A. J. Langguth (2004)
Vicious Circles and Infinity: An Anthology of Paradoxes, by Patrick Hughes and George Brecht (2007)
Manufacture and Uses of Alloy Steels, by Henry D. Hibbard (2011)
Legacy: A story of racism and the Northern Ireland Troubles, by Jayne Olorunda (2014)
Europe in the Sixteenth Century, by H.G. Koenigsberger and George L. Mosse (2017)
The Eleventh Hour, by Jon Arnold (2022)

Speculative fiction
Camouflage, by Joe Haldeman (2006)
I Am Not A Serial Killer, by Dan Wells (2011)
Roger Zelazny’s The Dawn of Amber: Book 1, by John Gregory Betancourt (2021)

Doctor Who, etc
Doctor Who Files 1: The Doctor, by Jacqueline Rayner with a story by Stephen Cole (2009)
Doctor Who Files 2: Rose, by Jacqueline Rayner (2009)
Doctor Who Files 3: The Slitheen, by Jacqueline Rayner (2009)
Doctor Who Files 4: The Sycorax, by Jacqueline Rayner with a story by Stephen Cole (2009)

The Best
Jayne Olorunda’s autobiography of growing up in Northern Ireland during the Troubles, before and after her Nigerian father was killed by an IRA bomb, is essential reading. (Review; get it here)

Honorable mentions
A.J. Langguth’s biography of Saki has a lot of fascinating material. (Review; get it here)
Joe Haldeman’s Camouflage takes the veteran author in some surprising directions. (Review; get it here)

The one you haven’t heard of
Jon Arnold’s Black Archive on The Eleventh Hour teases out a lot more about the Eleventh Doctor’s first story. (Review; get it here)

The one you can skip
I only read H.D. Hibbard’s pamphlet on alloy steel because he was my great-grandfather. It was already six years out of date when it was published in 1919. (Review; get it here)

The Dalek Invasion of Winter

Another in my sequence of First Doctor audios which I got back in January, this one dating from September 2018. This is really rather good. It’s a look at a society which has done a deal with the Daleks – or rather whose rulers have done a deal, at the expense of the ordinary citizens. The narrative of the Doctor and friends (here Vicki and Stephen) leading a rebellion against oppression is an old one (indeed at one point Vicki notes that she’s done this before), but the contrasting performances of Robert Daws as the evil collaborator Majorian, and Sara Powell (ex-War of the Sontarans), Shvorne Marks and Matthew Jacobs Morgan as the exploited populace is just tremendous; plus of course Nick Briggs as the Daleks, and Peter Purves and Maureen O’Brien doing both their own characters and Hartnell’s Doctor when necessary. I generally enjoy Big Finish audios (and I whine like anything when I don’t) but this is a particular high point.

The author is David K. Barnes, who also wrote the brilliant First Doctor / Second Doctor mashup Daughter of the Gods and one of the creepier Ninth Doctor audios. That’s three hits out of three for me, and I’ll look out for his work in future. Directed by the excellent Lisa Bowerman who rarely misses the mark.

You can get it here.

The next in this sequence is An Ideal World, with the same classic actors, but I’m going to divert to a short story before I get there.

1 July books

Just as an experiment, I’m collating all the reviews I have blogged on this particular date over the years, on my usual end-of-month, end-of-year system: grouped by category, and then with recommendations and disrecommendations. I’ve written a week of these in advance, and we’ll see how it goes from there.

Non-fiction
Nomadland, by Jessica Bruder (2023)

Non-genre
Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck (2009)
The History of Tom Jones, by Henry Fielding (2012)
Death in Venice, by Thomas Mann (2014)

Speculative Fiction
Foundation, by Isaac Asimov (2006)
Foundation and Empire, by Isaac Asimov
(2006)
Second Foundation, by Isaac Asimov
(2006)
Something Rotten, by Jasper Fforde (2007)
Children of the Atom, by Wilmar H. Shiras (2008)
The Humans, by Matt Haig (2017)
The Happier Dead, by Ivo Stourton (2022)
Queen of the States, by Josephine Saxton (2022)

Doctor Who, etc
Torchwood: The Sin Eaters, by Brian Minchin (2009)
The Brilliant Book 2011 (2011)
The Fall of Yquatine, by Nick Walters (2012)
Code of the Krillitane, by Justin Richards (2012)
Joyride, by Guy Adams (2017)
The Stone House, by A.K. Benedict (2017)
What She Does next Will Astound You, by James Goss (2017)
Ruby Red, by Georgia Cook (2024)

Comics
Keys to the Kingdom (Locke & Key Vol 4), by Joe Hill (2012)

The Best
Nothing else on the list will quite manage to top John Steinbeck’s gruelling Of Mice and Men. (Review; get it here)

Honorable Mentions
Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century, by Jessica Bruder, is the disturbing anthropological study on which the Oscar-winning film was based. (Review of book and film; get it here)
Asimov’s Foundation trilogy, for all its flaws, is a bedrock of sf. (Review; get it here)
The Brilliant Book 2011 is a Doctor Who annual-type book which features the one and only Doctor Who story by Brian Aldiss, who was also probably the oldest person ever to write anything for Who. (Review; get it here, at a price)

The one you haven’t heard of
What She Does Next Will Astound You, by James Goss, is the best of the spinoff novels from the all-too-short-lived Class. (Review of all three Class books; get it here)

The one to avoid
I was unimpressed by The Humans, by Matt Haig. (Review; get it here)

June 2025 books

Non-fiction 7 (YTD 38)
Ireland in the Renaissance, 1540-1660, ed. Thomas Herron and Michael Potterton
Castrovalva, by Andrew Orton
1913: The Year Before the Storm, by Florian Illies
The Ancient Paths, by Graham Robb (did not finish)
The Burgundians: A Vanished Empire, by Bart van Loo
The Road: A Story of Romans and Ways to the Past, by Christopher Hadley
The Gallant Edith Bratt: J.R.R. Tolkien’s Inspiration, by Nancy Bunting and Seamus Hamill-Keays

Non-genre 2 (YTD 21)
Not So Quiet…, by Helen Zenna Smith
The Wren, The Wren, by Anne Enright

SF 7 (YTD 64)
A Restless Truth, by Freya Marske
The Prince of Secrets, by A.J. Lancaster (did not finish)
Would She Be Gone, by Melanie Harding-Shaw
“The Faery Handbag”, by Kelly Link
Under the Pendulum Sun, by Jeannette Ng
The Impossible Contract, by K.A. Doore
The Green Man’s Quarry, by Juliet E. McKenna

Doctor Who 3 (YTD 16)
Ship of Fools, by Dave Stone
Fear Death By Water, by Emily Cook
Doctor Who: Castrovalva, by Christopher H. Bidmead

Comics 2 (YTD 18)
Panter, by Brecht Evens
Spent, by Alison Bechdel

5,500 pages (YTD 40,800)

12/21 (YTD 64/149) by non-male writers (Bunting, Smith, Enright, Marske, Lancaster, Harding-Shaw, Link, Ng, Doore, McKenna, Cook, Bechdel)
1/21 (YTD 22/149) by non-white writers (Ng)
5/21 rereads (The Burgundians, The Gallant Edith Bratt, “The Faery Handbag”, Ship of Fools, Doctor Who: Castrovalva)
224 books currently tagged unread, down 7 from last month, down 83 from June 2024.

Reading now
Beautiful Star, by Yukio Mishima
The Coming Wave: AI, Power and Our Future, by Mustafa Suleyman
The Making of Martin Luther, by Richard Rex
F**k Work, Let’s Play: Do What You Love and Get Paid for It, by John Williams

Coming soon (perhaps)
Fractures, by Robbie Morrison et al
Down, by Lawrence Miles
Spectral Scream, by Hannah Fergesen
Exterminate/Regenerate: The Story of Doctor Who, by by John Higgs
The Revenant Express, by George Mann
Raven Heart, by Murphy Lawless
The Iliad, by Homer, tr. Emily Wilson
The Master, by Louise Cooper
Voyage to Venus, by C.S. Lewis

The Bone Woman: A Forensic Anthropologist’s Search for Truth in the Mass Graves of Rwanda, Bosnia, Croatia, and Kosovo, by Clea Koff
Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett
False Value, by Ben Aaronovitch

Three Eight One, by Aliya Whiteley
The Women Could Fly, by Megan Giddings
‘Salem’s Lot, by Stephen King
Prophet Song, by Paul Lynch
Final Cut, by Charles Burns

“Two Hearts”, by Peter S. Beagle
Histoire de Jérusalem, by Vincent Lemire
A Tall Man In A Low Land: Some Time Among the Belgians, by Harry Pearson
The Principle of Moments, by Esmie Jikiemi-Pearson

WSFS Business Meeting 2025: the whole thing

I have compiled all of my posts about this year’s WSFS Business Meeting into a single Google Document (embedded below, direct link here). I hope it will be useful. For the moment I am leaving comments on; we’ll see how that works.

Needless to say, it represents only my own views, and where I am one of the co-sponsors of one of the agenda items, I speak only for myself here.

2025 WSFS Business meeting posts:
Mark Protection Committee Report
Investigation Committee on the 2023 Hugo Awards report
Software Committee
Hugo Administration Process Committee report
Business Meeting Study Group
C1, C2, C3, C4
C5
D1, D2, D3
D4
D5, D6
D7, D8
D9, D10, D11, D12
E1, E2
E3, E4, E5
E6
E7
E8
E9
F1, F2
F3, F4, F5, F6
F7, F8
F9, F10
F11
F12
F13
F14, F15
F16, F17, F18, F19
F20
F21
F22

The best known books set in each country: Syria

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

These numbers are crunched by hand, not by AI.

TitleAuthorGoodreads
raters
LibraryThing
owners
As Long as the Lemon Trees GrowZoulfa Katouh91,116890
Sea PrayerKhaled Hosseini 59,241818
L’Arabe du futur 2Riad Sattouf11,251430
Come, Tell Me How You LiveAgatha Christie Mallowan4,918965
Death Is Hard WorkKhaled Khalifa4,548291

Only five this time. As with Niger a few weeks ago, I had to disqualify a lot of books (sixteen in this case) which are (at least in part) about Syria, but not actually set there, most of which dealt with the experience of Syria refugees trying to make their way to and in other countries during the recent war. My rule is that if I have had to disqualify a large number of books before I reach the fifth that is actually set in the country, I leave it there. Normally I would list the top eight books.

I’m glad to see a novel by a Syrian woman actually topping the chart this week, though it does way better on Goodreads. You may be surprised to see Agatha Christie making an appearance; this is a non-fiction account of her experiences observing her husband’s archaeological digging, and it is the top book set in Syria on LibraryThing, though much further behind on Goodreads.

I ruled out the first volume of the graphic novel series L’Arabe du future, which is set in several different countries. However the second volume does seem to be mainly set in Syria, so it’s on the list. Both are on my list of BDs to buy.

The top book on Goodreads with ‘Syria’ tags was Zeitoun, by Dave Eggers, and the top on LibraryThing was The Golem and the Jinni, by Helene Wecker, both of which are about the experience of Syrian immigrants in the USA; one non-fiction, the other fantasy. There were a few other non-fiction books looking at the region as a whole. I won’t list them all.

Coming next: Mali, Burkina Faso, Sri Lanka and (edge case, but it’s listed as a separate country in most lists) Taiwan.

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 | Israel
Americas: USA | Brazil (revised) | Mexico | Colombia | Argentina | Canada | Peru | Venezuela | Chile | 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 | Togo | Sierra Leone
Europe: Russia | Türkiye | Germany | France | UK | Italy | Spain | Poland | Ukraine | Romania | Netherlands | Belgium | Sweden | Czechia | Azerbaijan | Portugal | Greece | Hungary | Austria | Switzerland | Belarus
Oceania: Australia | Papua New Guinea