Their Mortal Remains: The Pink Floyd exhibition at the Victoria and Albert Museum

You've got a couple more weeks to catch the Pink Floyd exhibition at the Victoria and Albert Museum, Their Mortal Remains, before it finishes on 15 October. I went yesterday with S, who took much better pictures than I did, so I am using hers as well as mine. (This is one of hers.)

First off, I'd never actually been to the V&A before in all my years of visiting London. It is pretty extraordinary and would clearly well repay another visit. The Pink Floyd exhibition is very popular – I missed the window for buying tickets online, and turning up at opening time on Saturday morning at 10 am, the earliest available slot was 1215, and it was really crowded inside. Weekdays are probably easier. It was a nice day so we were able to enjoy both elevenses beforehand and lunch afterwards in the V&A courtyard.

The exhibition itself is total audio immersion (as you would hope and expect) with different corners of different rooms featuring interviews with the band members and those who knew them. The first display was a map of Cambridge which evoked nostalgia for me and S (we served a term togerther on CUSU together long ago), marking out important places for the band (though of course they actually met and started playing together in London). The Syd Barrett material was rather moving, and suspended above the first exhibition room was purportedly the original Bike.

I had not known that Pink Floyd did some incidental music for late 1960s films, and also performed a piece for the BBC coverage of the first moon landing (this video isn't in the exhibition, I dug it out later):

A lot of the exhibition is about the cover art, and here S got some very good pictures:


There is a great interview with the stuntman who is on fire on the front cover of "Wish You Were Here":

I completely failed to get a decent selfie of us in front of the Monosee picture from the inside cover:

The whole thing ends with a rather lovely video presentation pairing Pink Floyd's fist single, Arnold Lane, with footage from the Live 8 reunion 38 years later.

Anyway, strongly recommended – but hurry!

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Sunday Reading

Current
Watchmen, by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons (a chapter a month)
The Famished Road, by Ben Okri
Peoplewatching, by Desmond Morris
Space Helmet for a Cow, vol 2, by Paul Kirklees

Last books finished
A Short Guide to Irish Science Fiction, by Jack Fennell
Press Cuttings, by George Bernard Shaw

Next books
The Dancers at the End of Time, by Michael Moorcock
Alexander the Corrector: The Tormented Genius Whose Cruden's Concordance Unwrote the Bible, by Julia Keay
1434: The Year a Chinese Fleet Sailed to Italy and Ignited the Renaissance, by Gavin Menzies

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Anders, vol 1: Lars & vol 2: Onthuld, by Kristof Spaeys and Bart Vaessens

Second frame of third page of vol 1:

Girl: "I'm afraid his hard disk is crashing."
Lars: [My hard disk? / What? Wait… /
I'm not really… Does she mean… /
No, that can't be. Unless… / Oh shit. /
I'm even stammering in my own thoughts. /
This is worse than – ]

Boy: "Well, you'll just have to reboot it."

Second frame of third page of vol 2:


Matthias: "What? He was going to serve Ella up to you with a pretty bow on top?"
Lars: "Just banter. / He just wanted to have fun with his mates. /
And what's more fun than making a weirdo look stupid in a trendy club?"

I enjoyed Kristof Spaey's art in the Misschien / Nooit / Ooit trilogy with script by Marc Legendre, and picked these two albums up at Brussels Comic Con earlier this year, where he has joined forces with Flemish TV script writer Bart Vaessens to tell what at first sight appears to be a story of student love and drama in my local university city, Leuven. So far two volumes have appeared of what was originally planned to be a an ongoing series (though as the first appeared in 2014 and the second in 2015, and it's now 2017, I wonder if we'll see any more). The title Anders basically means Different.

The first volume, Lars, sets up our eponymous hero as an insecure chap who is trying to work up the confidence to get together with the lovely Ella. It plays out as a standard story of student shenanigans – up until the last few pages when suddenly one of their friends turns out to have supernatural powers which help Lars and Ella out of a fix, but are not such good news for one of their fellow students. The second volume, Onthuld (Revealed) tracks Lars, Ella and their friend Alix dealing with the consequent investigation by the police and by others. It also ends on a cliff-hanger.

It's very readable, if full of Flemish student slang which I don't usually hear much (though I may be hearing more, given that young F is about to start at Leuven where the comic is set). I hope that the creators do come back to Anders and give us some more.

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A Woman of the Iron People, by Eleanor Arnason

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Midway through the afternoon we turned onto another trail. It led north into an area of low hills. The soil was sandy. The trees were small and scrubby. Here and there we came upon outcroppings of a sandy rock, yellow or dull orange. The trail was barely visible: a faint line that wound among the rocks and trees. It led finally—in the late afternoon—to a shack, made of long branches leaning against rock. Skins were stretched over the branches. Smoke came out of a hole. What a sad little dwelling place!

I enjoyed A Woman of the Iron People a lot. It’s a great piece of speculative anthropological writing, about vulnerable Earth people exploring a planet where gender roles are very different from ours (men live solitary hunting lives, and possibly are not all that bright; women run all the settlements and technology). The tensions in the human starship crew and among the locals are sharply defined. It’s in the shadow of The Left Hand of Darkness, obviously, but I thought Arnason managed the exceptionally difficult feat of creating an alien society and then concentrating on those who are deviant within that society’s own constraints – by contrast, Gethen seems to be full of “straight” Gethenians.

This won the very first Tiptree Award back in 1992, along with White Queen by Gwyneth Jones, which failed to grab me. This is part of my ongoing series of reading Tiptree, Clarke and BSFA winners in chronological order, except where I’ve already written them up recently, so it follows from the winners of the BSFA 1988 Lavondyss and Clarke 1989 Unquenchable Fire, skipping the BSFA 1989 Pyramids and Clarke 1990 The Child Garden, and also the winner of both 1990 BSFA and 1991 Clarke Take Back Plenty. Next up is Synners by Pat Cadigan.

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Etymologicon, by Mark Forsyth

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Take generous: the word originally meant well-born, and because it was obvious that well-bred people were magnanious and peasants were stingy, it came to mean munificent. Indeed, the well-bred gentleman established such a reputation for himself that the word gentle, meaning soft, was named after him. In fact, some gentlemen that the gin in gingerly is probably just another gen lurking in our language. Gingerly certainly has nothing to do with ginger.

A somewhat rambly book of etymologies, with some interesting nuggets (eg usages from Coverdale's Bible) but priding itself on having no real overall structure. Probably better for dipping into than trying to read as a single work.

This was the top unread book I acquired in 2015. Next on that list is Wolf in White Van, by John Darnielle.

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Common People: The History of an English Family, by Alison Light

Second paragraph of third chapter:

My mother’s parents – my ‘Nanny’ and ‘Grampy’ – were not individuals but a relationship. Their Christian names were irrelevant. They were ‘Mother’ and ‘Father’ to each other, and even my mother had to think twice before she could confirm that her dad was known, very occasionally, by his second name of ‘George’. Utterly familiar, they were also remote figures. I was one of a tribe of grandchildren who came and went in their house, played outside in their backyard, or fidgeted indoors while the grown-ups talked and laughed. Our illnesses mattered, and making sure that we survived, but otherwise, unless we were troublesome, we were a herd –‘the kids’. Before my teenage years I seldom held a conversation alone with either grandparent, and then only a few awkward sentences. I never stayed overnight in their house: why would I want to when my own was just up the road? I never went upstairs. Most of their house was out of bounds to me. Yet I must have been in the front room, a sanctum kept for visitors, bespeaking my grandfather’s status as a tradesman, for I remember the gleaming lacquered piano with its lid shut, and that I lifted the heavy receiver of the black Bakelite telephone, cradling it against my ear, listening in awe to the dialling tone as if to the distant sea.

This is a great work of social and personal history. Light has taken her four grandparents and traced the genealogy of each as far back as she can go. None of them were from the well-chronicled upper or middle classes; she remarks that if anywhere can claim to be her ancestral home, it is the workhouse, as someone from every generation ended up there. She gradually zooms in on Portsmouth as the focal point of the story, but not before travelling around the middle and south of England in general. Where there may be personal data lacking, she diverges into intense history of the disruptive effect of the Industrial Revolution on society, the precise details of needle-making, the life prospects of the building labourer, the reality of the Navy in the tweentieth century; and she humanises these sweeping sources of data with moving empathy for her own ancestors and their fellow citizens. It's a tremendous piece of work, both sad and uplifting, demonstrating that historical writing can almost completely avoid the great and the good and still be really memorable. Strongly recommended.

This was at the top of my list of non-fiction recommended by you. Next up was The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, by Erving Goffman, which I have read but not yet reviewed.

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The Double Deckers, by Glyn Jones

Second paragraph of third chapter (counting the introduction as the first chapter):

Then they all tried to talk at once, and Scooper banged the table with a maller to bring the meetings to order. Unfortunately his banging upset a bottle of water which fell right into Doughnut’s lap.

My long term reader will remember that I wrote up the 17 episodes of classic children’s TV show Here Come The Double Deckers last year. Here is the one and only book of the show, by script editor Glyn Jones, transforming to print two of the episodes that he wrote or co-wrote, first Barney, the 13th episode in broadcast order, and then Tiger Takes Off, the very first episode ever shown. It has lots of lovely colour photographs from the show, and is only 64 pages. The introduction has pictures of everyone including Albert as played by Melvyn Hayes.

The two episodes are rather odd choices, neither of them particularly plot-heavy even by Double Deckers standards; I wonder if it was just the two scripts Jones happened to have handy on a wet weekend in 1971 when he needed to write the book? It has to be admitted that Barney comes off rather better on the page than it does on the screen, with a bit more characterisation given to both Barney and the policeman (here named as PC Hastings). The core of Tiger Takes Off is the hovercraft chase, a long purely visual sequence which Jones wisely doesn’t attempt to transfer to the page; most of the excellent dialogue is kept, and I can imagine kids reading this out loud to each other, each taking different parts.

This isn’t the only Double Deckers book – there was a 1972 annual as well. Must look out for that.

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Sultana’s Dream, by Begum Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain

Sultana's Dream, by Begum Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain

Second paragraph:

All on a sudden a lady stood before me; how she came in, I do not know. I took her for my friend, Sister Sara. সহসা আমার পার্শ্বে একটি ইউরোপীয় রমণীকে দণ্ডায়মানা দেখিয়া বিস্মিত হইলাম। তিনি কী প্রকারে আসিলেন, বুঝিতে পারিলাম না। তাঁহাকে আমার পরিচিতা ‘ভগিনী সারা’।

I spotted this as an interesting feminist story from India in 1905 – in fact, it was originally published in English, in the Indian Ladies' Magazine, but I've put the standard Bengali translation next to it because I am intrigued that the English "lady" is translated into "ইউরোপীয় রমণীকে", "i'urōpīẏa ramaṇīkē," "European woman". I wonder if that is how the author intended it to be understood? (Of course she was probably more comfortable in Urdu than Bengali.)

It's a very short story in which Sultana finds herself in a world where men suffer the same discrimination that women suffer in our world, and as a result things run much better. Solar-powered technology has enabled Ladyland to repel male invaders and establish a new way of life, with decent showers and flying cars. Then, alas, Sultana wakes up; for it was all a dream. Begum Rokeya was a leading Islamic feminist writer, and the story is basically a thought-provoking vignette, with some shafts of wit – the fact that men's brains are bigger does not show that they are superior, because elephants have bigger brains than men. Great fun, but very short.

Full text here.

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Sunday reading

Current
Watchmen, by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons (a chapter a month)
The Famished Road, by Ben Okri
Peoplewatching, by Desmond Morris

Last books finished
Life During Wartime, ed. Paul Cornell
Synners, by Pat Cadigan
Thinking Fast and Slow, by Daniel Kahneman
Diamond Dogs, by Mike Tucker
Antarès, Épisode 2, by Leo
Onthuld, by Kristof Spaey and Bart Vaessens
Antarès, Épisode 3, by Leo

Next books
The Dancers at the End of Time, by Michael Moorcock
Alexander the Corrector: The Tormented Genius Whose Cruden's Concordance Unwrote the Bible, by Julia Keay
1434: The Year a Chinese Fleet Sailed to Italy and Ignited the Renaissance, by Gavin Menzies

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The Decide Your Destiny books

Second paragraph of section 3 in each book as follows:

1) The Spaceship Graveyard, by Colin Brake

'That's not the answer,' he [the Doctor] says quietly.

2) Alien Arena, by Richard Dungworth

Determined to dislodge you, the creature tries another tactic. It backs towards the nearest section of the Arena's perimeter, and rears up, in an attempt to crush you against the wall.

3) The Time Crocodile, by Colin Brake

'It looks a bit like any other zoo,' you tell the Doctor.

4) The Corinthian Project, by Davey Moore

He appears to be wearing an old navy uniform – a thick blue wool jacket with gold buttons and a white woollen pullover beneath. A gold badge on his chest says Jacques.

5) The Crystal Snare, by Richard Dungworth

The creatures escort you and the Doctor roughly along the tunnel, until it opens into a large chamber. The chamber's walls are coated with the same luminous green substance that lines the tunnel. A large, transparent cylindrical pod occupies the centre of the floor. Inside it you can see fifty or so human beings, each enclosed within a capsule of blue gel.

6) War of the Robots, by Trevor Baxendale

'What was that thing?' asks Martha.

7) Dark Planet, by Davey Moore

'I'm sorry if my appearance frightened you,' he says. You mention seeing him at the chapel and he says, 'Yes! I was leaving to meet Akemi and Teah. We meet at the old fairground – no one comes here.'

8) The Haunted Wagon Train, by Colin Brake

'Patience, that's enough,' her father interrupts abruptly.

9) Lost Luggage, by Colin Brake

'Is that something different to StarBase Gamma?' you ask. The Doctor nods, grimly.

10) Second Skin, by Richard Dungworth

Before you can take in your new surroundings, the Doctor pulls you down behind a large cabinet. As you peer cautiously around it, you see why.

11) The Dragon King, by Trevor Baxendale

There's no way you're going to get out of this on your own. You have to call for help, even if it means the native with the bow and arrow!

12) The Horror of Howling Hill, by Jonathan Green

You join Martha and the Doctor in peering through the grimy, cobweb-choked windows but can see nothing as there are no lights on inside.

13) The Coldest War, by Colin Brake

'We need them to find the Dx87kk=$si2£,' he tells the Doctor. [It's a malgunctioning translation machine.]

14) Claws of the Macra, by Trevor Baxendale

But now you're all in a darkened passageway that smells distinctly of –

15) Judoon Monsoon, by Oli Smith

'Doctor!' Rory shouts, getting up and running over to the retreating figure. 'Don't you think it would be better to ask around the village first? Try and discover why these aliens might want to come to Betul?'

16) Empire of the Wolf, by Neil Corry

But that doesn't shock you. Nor does the column of light reaching endlessly into the sky, filling the place with so much radiance that it bleaches the colours from everything. The bean itself is fascinating, with swirling strands rising through the beam towards the heaves. Its power seems immense.

I've written up the Old Who game books previously – six not hugely impressive British ones from the 1980s and two rather better American ones of the same vintage. There are also two Twelfth Doctor Choose Your Future books; but these are the sixteen Decide Your Destiny books, the first twelve featuring the Tenth Doctor (mostly with Martha) and the last four with the Eleventh Doctor and Amy.

Colin Brake is the lead author here, with five of the sixteen to his credit. He has written a bunch of other Who books, of which the most memorable for me is the only Doctor Who story set in Brussels. To my surprise he has varied the format a bit from the usual solo game books that I am familiar with. I am used to these books having a core narrative which then,reader is guided along, but several of his books lead to very divergently branching storylines which are basically incompatible in the same universe. It means you could read the book several times and get interestingly different outcomes, but also somewhat dents the sense hat this is a coherent world.

Even more surprisingly, the reader is given choices to make about the plot that come from a very different direction to other solo game books that I have read. For instance, the very first section of the first book ends thus:

If the [Tardis] engines respond and fire back into activity, go to 63. If nothing happens, go to 79.

So you get to choose whether you are going to read a story where the Tardis starts working again, or one where it doesn’t. I don’t recall ever coming across that before (and it’s only Brake who gives the reader that sort of choice in these books). Is it common, or at least not unknown, in computer games? Unfortunately the choice you make then doesn’t have a lot of impact on the outcome, as you tend to end up in the same place either way.

There’s not a lot to say about the rest of them. The four Eleventh Doctor books bring back TV monsters: the Sycorax, the Macra, the Judoon and the werewolves from Tooth and Claw. They also at the time featured on-line tie-in material on the BBC website, which possibly is the cause of two sets of orphaned pages in The Coldest War which aren’t reachable though the hard copy text.

One other point that struck me was that in most of the books, there are no unhappy endings – you struggle through until you reach a resolution which is usually some degree of the doctor and friends wining and the baddies losing. The exception is the very last, Empire of the Wolf by Neil Corry (who it should be noted also wrote for the Doctor Who game magazine Battle In Time) whwere a majority of the potential endings have “you” turning into a werewolf – including, most unfairly, one which is reached in only two steps from the opening chapter (both of which involve running away).

The best of these for my money is the last of the Tenth Doctor ones, The Horror of Howling Hill, well written and interestingly structured by Jonathan Green, with lots of interesting incidental characters and colour. (He also wrote a less brilliant Eleventh Doctor novel.) I’ll give you the opening section, just to give you a taste:

Hearing the unexpected hooting of an owl, you suddenly notice how dark the sky has become. Black rags of cloud scud across the darkening velvet blue of night. You had not realised it was so late, and you are still some way from the cottage. The deal was that you could stay out at the playing fields, by yourself, until dusk – then you had to hurry home.

But now night has already fallen and you’re still nowhere near your holiday house.

You’ve been there almost a week, enjoying a short country break with the rest of your family on the outskirts of the pretty, chocolate box Wiltshire village of Caernbury. Like Stonehenge and the stone circle at Avebury, Caernbury is steeped in the myth and mysticism of the Stone Age people who used to claim these lands as their tribal hunting grounds.

The owl hoots again, an eerie sound cutting through the night, and you cast your eyes towards the silhouette of the hill away to your left. On its crest, visible against a smattering of stars between the dark shapes of scrubby, wind-blown trees, is the solid black form of the long barrow. The ancient burial mound is one of the local tourist attractions that have put Caernbury on the map. Locally the feature is known as Howling Hill.

It is just at that moment that the owl’s screeching cries are silenced by a terrible mournful wail, which echoes around the hillside and over the dreaming village beyond.

You freeze, your blood turning to ice water in your veins. You have never heard anything like it, and you are convinced it came from somewhere nearby. Then the cry comes again, like some unearthly animal wailing, only closer this time. You are not alone.

If you want to run from this place as fast as you can, turn to 45. If you want to stand your ground and see what happens next, turn to 20.

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Wings (1927)

I have a vague ambition to improve my rather dismal knowledge of cinema by watching all of the winners of the Oscar for Best Picture (or equivalent). If I do them at the rate of one a month or so, I should finish roughly around the time of the centennial of this, the winner of the Academy Award for Outstanding Picture of 1927/28 (not yet called the Oscar).

I had no expectations whatever of Wings. I don’t think I’ve ever previously seen a film with Clara Bow, the star, or even with Gary Cooper, who has a small part as the first character to get killed. So, going from bad to good, my totally spoilery impressions were:

Whiteness: I don’t think I spotted a single non-white face. I thought at one point that they were about to introduce French colonial troops, but they were white too.

Plot: It’s pretty obvious what’s going to happen as soon as you see the set-up of Mary (Clara Bow) loves Jack (Buddy Rogers), who loves Sylvia (Jobyna Ralston), who loves David (Richard Arlen), and Jack and David go off to war, and David takes his teddy bear mascot with him (which obviously means he will be killed). Though getting David accidentally killed by Jack in a friendly fire incident was a slightly unexpected twist.

Also fails the Bechdel test – though there are several women characters, they hardly ever talk to each other, and never about anything except men.

However, one has to give the film a lot of credit for attempting a not too glamorous portrayal of air combat in the first world war less than ten years after it had happened – as recent for the makers and audience as Obama’s first election and the global financial crisis are for us today, and of course still raw and unspeakable for many.

Make-up: I know intellectually that you just have to accept this as part of the conventions of film production of the era, but the vast amount of make-up on Buddy Rogers, playing Jack the hero, including during battle scenes, somewhat threw me out of the zone (particularly since few of the other men seem to wear any). Clara Bow’s make-up is also laid on pretty thick but there’s less of a divergence with other women either on the screen or in real life.

Comic relief: There is a comic German recruit, who is mocked by his fellow soldiers until he shows them his “Stars and Stripes Forever” tattoo. Twice.

Locations: I’ll come to the battle scenes below, but mostly they are set in San Antonio, Texas, which does not look very much like Northern France. There are however some excellent exterior shots set in Paris, presumably a combination of back projection and good set design.

Acting: As noted above, the plot isn’t up to much, but the actors give it their all – I felt in particular that Clara Bow lived up to her reputation, and got quite a lot to do ranging from comedy to deep emotion; and here Buddy Rogers as Jack comforts Richard Arlen as the dying David (who he has accidentally killed) with reputedly the first same-sex kiss in a mainstream Hollywood film:

Richard Arlen, playing David, had actually served in the Royal Canadian Flying Corps, but never saw combat. Both he and Buddy Rogers did some of their own flying, which I’m sure would be regarded as horrendously risky for a major star to do today.

Cinematography The other Academy award won by Wings was for Best Engineering Effects, and that was richly deserved. There is a lot of absolutely breathtaking action in the aerial combat scenes. I griped earlier about Texas pretending to be France, but the air is the air and the clouds are the clouds. It does go on a bit (the film is 144 minutes long – and we complain about film length these days!) but if you have loads of material you may as well use it. In these days of CGI spacehips and dragons, it’s sobering to realise what could be done 90 years ago with basic authentic equipment.

The fights stand out but there is some brilliant work elsewhere as well – this fanvid starts with perhaps the film’s most memorable shot, tracking through a Paris night club until we find Jack getting drunk with the girls (supposedly Buddy Rogers had never touched the stuff before and really was drunk; not sure if I believe that):

Anyway, it took me two evenings to watch it all, but I’m glad I did and it gives me confidence that this project is worth pursuing. Next up is a very different film: The Broadway Melody of 1929.

Winners of the Oscar for Best Picture

1920s: Wings (1927-28) | The Broadway Melody (1928-29)
1930s: All Quiet on the Western Front (1929-30) | Cimarron (1930-31) | Grand Hotel (1931-32) | Cavalcade (1932-33) | It Happened One Night (1934) | Mutiny on the Bounty (1935, and books) | The Great Ziegfeld (1936) | The Life of Emile Zola (1937) | You Can’t Take It with You (1938) | Gone with the Wind (1939, and book)
1940s: Rebecca (1940) | How Green Was My Valley (1941) | Mrs. Miniver (1942) | Casablanca (1943) | Going My Way (1944) | The Lost Weekend (1945) | The Best Years of Our Lives (1946) | Gentleman’s Agreement (1947) | Hamlet (1948) | All the King’s Men (1949)
1950s: All About Eve (1950) | An American in Paris (1951) | The Greatest Show on Earth (1952) | From Here to Eternity (1953) | On The Waterfront (1954, and book) | Marty (1955) | Around the World in 80 Days (1956) | The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) | Gigi (1958) | Ben-Hur (1959)
1960s: The Apartment (1960) | West Side Story (1961) | Lawrence of Arabia (1962) | Tom Jones (1963) | My Fair Lady (1964) | The Sound of Music (1965) | A Man for All Seasons (1966) | In the Heat of the Night (1967) | Oliver! (1968) | Midnight Cowboy (1969)
1970s: Patton (1970) | The French Connection (1971) | The Godfather (1972) | The Sting (1973) | The Godfather, Part II (1974) | One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975) | Rocky (1976) | Annie Hall (1977) | The Deer Hunter (1978) | Kramer vs. Kramer (1979)
1980s: Ordinary People (1980) | Chariots of Fire (1981) | Gandhi (1982) | Terms of Endearment (1983) | Amadeus (1984) | Out of Africa (1985) | Platoon (1986) | The Last Emperor (1987) | Rain Man (1988) | Driving Miss Daisy (1989)
1990s: Dances With Wolves (1990) | The Silence of the Lambs (1991) | Unforgiven (1992) | Schindler’s List (1993) | Forrest Gump (1994) | Braveheart (1995) | The English Patient (1996) | Titanic (1997) | Shakespeare in Love (1998) | American Beauty (1999)
21st century: Gladiator (2000) | A Beautiful Mind (2001) | Chicago (2002) | The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003) | Million Dollar Baby (2004, and book) | Crash (2005) | The Departed (2006) | No Country for Old Men (2007) | Slumdog Millionaire (2008) | The Hurt Locker (2009)
2010s: The King’s Speech (2010) | The Artist (2011) | Argo (2012) | 12 Years a Slave (2013) | Birdman (2014) | Spotlight (2015) | Moonlight (2016) | The Shape of Water (2017) | Green Book (2018) | Parasite (2019)
2020s: Nomadland (2020) | CODA (2021) | Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022) | Oppenheimer (2023)

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Diamond Dogs, by Mike Tucker

Second paragraph of third chapter:

That was good news. The sooner they realised that everything was running as it should, the sooner they would leave him [Delitsky] in peace. He was about to turn back to his instruments when he caught sight of Johanna Teske making her way across the control room towards him.

Given yesterday’s demise of the Cassini probe in the atmosphere of Saturn, it was timely to read this Twelfth Doctor novel set in precisely that location, in a future where humans and their alien allies are mining the rains of pure diamonds that occur amidst the clouds. Tucker when on form is one of the best Who novelists writing at the moment, and here he is on form – great characterisation of the Doctor and Bill, a nice mystery saboteur plot which ends in a decent twist, loads of fan service for previous Who stories both Old and New, and tight writing. This was the first of the three Doctor-and-Bill novels this year (I accidentally read the second one already) and it’s a good start.

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The Moon Stallion, by Brian Hayles

Second paragraph of third chapter:

The horses walked on, blowing nervously, eager to be worked and eventually given their head on the open hills. Mortenhurze, in the lead, gave Purwell and Diana only the barest of formal acknowledgement, as befitted his status as Master of the Hunt. Paul, riding at the rear of his host alongside Estelle, gave a more cheery, slightly mischievous wave, before breaking into a gentle canter and riding away. Purwell watched Diana’s bright unseeing wave gradually falter as the departing horses were lost to view across the bright shimmer of parkland. He stopped waving, and holding her arm, stood for a lingering moment, taking in the sunny welcome of the May morning. Her quiet face was gently uptilted to the almost cloudless sky as though drinking in its promise of greater warmth to come; she seemed quite untouched by yesterday’s alarming incident, described so graphically to Purwell by his son. Diana had seemed more concerned about just how Todman had controlled the frenzied horse than the fact that her life had been in real danger. Thankful that the event was past and that Diana had come to no harm, he gave her arm an affectionate squeeze, and led the way into the cool recesses of the house.

I think some readers are of an age to remember the slightly incomprehensible 1978 BBC children’s TV series that this books novelises – particularly memorable for Who fans in that it stars Sarah Sutton, a year or so before she became Nyssa, and John Abineri, who was in Doctor Who four times; and the writer of course was Brian Hayles, who wrote the four Ice Warrior stories of Old Who and also The Celestial Toymaker and The Smugglers. He died, aged 47, just before the first episode was shown (and before the book had been published).

The book sticks fairly closely to the TV story as I remember it (from first watching it in 1978 and again in 2010). It suffers a bit from the inevitable traps of novelising a script – basically, the omniscient narrator sometimes comes over as kinda dumb. But it’s a decent recreation of a very weird story, which provoked happy memories.

This was the sf book that had lingered longest unread on my shelves, and also the shortest unread book of those acquired in 1989. Next on those piles respectively are Wild Life by Molly Gloss and A Crocodile in the Fernery by Twigs Way.

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Exit West, by Mohsin Hamid

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Saeed partly resisted the pull of his phone. He found the antenna too powerful, the magic it summoned too mesmerizing, as though he were eating a banquet of limitless food, stuffing himself, stuffing himself, until he felt dazed and sick, and so he had removed or hidden or restricted all but a few applications. His phone could make calls. His phone could send messages. His phone could take pictures, identify celestial bodies, transform the city into a map while he drove. But that was it. Mostly. Except for the hour each evening that he enabled the browser on his phone and disappeared down the byways of the internet. But this hour was tightly regulated, and when it ended, a timer would set off an alarm, a gentle, windy chime, as though from the breezy planet of some blue-shimmering science fiction priestess, and he would electronically lock away his browser and not browse again on his phone until the following day.

Niall Harrison got me to read this short book as preparation for a panel at Worldcon 75, and it was very interesting – in a world similar to ours, portals begin to open which allow people to travel instantly from one country to another; at first there are only a few, and access to them is tightly controlled, but as the story continues they become more common and eventually the whole world is interconnected. For Saeed and Nadia, this becomes first a means of escape from their home city, which is consumed in a Syria-style civil war, and then a way of encountering different parts of the world, where migrants are (mis)treated in various different ways – a Greek refugee camp, a neighbourhood of squatters in London, and finally California. This is leavened with vignettes showing how the changed world affects the lives of other people who we aren’t otherwise involved in the narrative. It’s a very convincing portrayal of a world which is both integrating and disintegrating, not so very far from our own.

I found it an interesting contrast with Chris Beckett’s Marchers novel/collection, and with Dave Hutchinson’s Europe trilogy, but of course from a non-European perspective. I was also reminded of Zelazny’s Eye of Cat, where a global transmat system becomes a hunting ground for an alien tracking his Native American nemesis, and more frivolously The Seeds of Death. Recommended, anyway.

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Aliénor: La Légende Noire, vols 1 and 2

Vol 1, second frame of page 3:


Suger: "There's more. His last wish was to marry his daughter to the heir to the King of France. You, Louis!"
The future Louis VII: "Me? What do you mean, me?"

Vol 2, second frame of page 3:


"They are too well defended! We won't make it!"
"What? Get back down there! Order the ladders back up! And those catapults… Load heavier projectiles!"

I have long been fascinated by Eleanor, ever since reading A Proud Taste for Scarlet and Miniver, and to my great joy discovered what may well be her astrological birthchart (cast for 14 December 1122 or 1123) while researching my M Phil. So when I spotted the Dutch translation of this recent bande dessinée in the local FNAC, I knew I had to go to the original and try it out.

It turns out that Delcourt, the French publisher, has started a line of historical series of albums about famous women rulers who have had a historically bad press, under the title "Les Reines de Sang", The Queens of Blood. Others covered include Cleopatra ("The Deadly Queen"), Fredegund ("The Bloody"), Eleanor of Aquitaine's descendant Isabella ("The She-Wolf of France") and Cixi ("The Dragon Lady").

The Eleanor series (subtitled "The Black Legend") has been translated so far into Dutch, Spanish and Italian as far as I know (alas, not English – it's surprisingly rare even for a top-selling French line to cross the Channel). It's a multinational endeavour, with writers Arnaud Delalande (French) and Simona Mogavino (Italian) joined by artist Carlos Gomez (Argentinian). There are six volumes out so far; the first two are told as a flashback from the 1142 siege of Vitry-en-Perthois, starting from 1137, the year when in quick succession Eleanor's father died, making her duchess of Aquitaine at 13 or 14, she married Louis, the heir to the throne, and his father then died making him Louis VII and her queen of France, and leading us through the first years of their joint reign.

Delalande and Mogavino have tried pretty hard both to include lots of historical detail (they slightly lose the run of it in the second volume) and also to inject some romance – Eleanor goes for it with some ruggedly handsome troubadours and noblemen, keeping Louis completely in the dark. But she comes across as an interesting character, trying to establish her own authority at court despite Louis being subject to the manipulations of Suger and his mother, attempting to protect her sister who falls in love with an older married nobleman, cultivating culture as well as warfare. Gomez' art is nice and clear, with big action scenes remaining uncluttered and the protagonists well characterised visually. The plot drives of course to the burning of Vitry, which means that we don't have all that much suspense about what is coming. But that only takes us to 1142, so I shall get the next volumes to see how the rest of the story is worked out.

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The Help, by Kathryn Stockett

Second paragraph of third chapter:

I yank my stockings up from sagging around my feet – the trouble of all fat, short women around the world. Then I rehearse what to say, what to keep to myself. I go ahead and punch the bell.

This is a novel about the early 1960s in Jackson, Mississippi; against a background of racist violence, three women (two black, one white) collaborate to publish a first-person account of domestic work in their town, and more or less get away with it. I liked the central concept of story-telling being in itself liberating, and the human geography of racial division is vividly and movingly captured. Many of the white women in the book are almost as nasty to each other as they are to their black servants. I did wonder how long our heroes would really have got away with it, though; the entire black population of the town knows what they did, and it doesn’t take much for these things to leak.

This was my top unread book by a woman and also my top book acquired this year. Next on those piles are Hermione Lee’s biography of Virginia Woolf and Ben Okri’s The Famished Road.

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