July Books 24) The Spring of the Ram, by Dorothy Dunnett

Not quite a year after I read the first in this series, I’ve read the second, and have certainly worked up an appetite to read the rest now. Niccolò, the Flemish apprentice-turned-magnate of the first book, is sent on a mission of cut-throat mercantile competition to Trebizond, the only surviving point of the Byzantine Empire; but the year is 1461, and Trebizond’s time is also running out. There’s some very skeevy (though not at all explicit) underage sex in this book, though our hero nobly stands aside from it; there’s also a lot of appropriately byzantine political conspiracy, with tendrils reaching from Georgia to Scotland in a beautifully drawn pattern of entanglement. It’s all very lush and convincing, and just as I was wondering if Niccolò would ever actually lose any of the conflicts he gets involved with, I was blindsided by one of the several twists at the end. Good stuff.

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July Books 23) Coldheart, by Trevor Baxendale

If you can swallow the completely implausible geological setup for this story – a desert planet with an ice core (or at least a permafrost mantle) – it’s rather a good tale of the politics of a citadel society under stress, as the monsters arise both from the icy depths and from the elders’ own children; it’s rather effective as a body-horror story in its own right, and there are some excellent character moments for Fitz (one of the greatest of Who companions), the Doctor and even Compassion. But I can’t quite forgive the geology.

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Jago & Litefoot 4; The Davros Mission

I enjoyed the four plays in the fourth season of Big Finish’s series about Victorian adventurers Jago and Litefoot, but felt that they were not quite as brilliant as previous series have been. In particular, the linking narrative between the four stories was weak and confusing; it might have been better to present them as four standalones, amusing incidents in the lives of our heroes and their friend Leela (and her friend Claudius Dark, played by Colin Baker, in the last story). The sinister duo of Kempston and Hardwick started off promisingly reminiscent of Angel‘s Wolfram and Hart, but ended up rather pantomimish.

I don’t want to compain too much. The first two are very good on their own merits: Nigel Fairs’ Jago in Love takes the duo to Brighton, where Jago, as one might guess, falls in love and Litefoot is haunted by a lovelorn ghost. Trevor Baxter in particular does a brilliant turn as the possessed Litefoot; Christopher Benjamin as the besotted Jago is not surprising but still entertaining.

John Dorney’s Beautiful Things sees Alan Cox totally stealing the show as Oscar Wilde, playing him as a sharp-tongued, quick-witted, mildly Irish man of action, who out-alliterates Jago, makes a dreadful pun on the name of fellow-Irishman George Bernard Shaw, and saves the day. Louise Jameson also gets some great lines as Leela, hating the new Wilde play (A Woman Of No Importance). The plot is a clever riff on Dorian Gray, though I did not really feel the villain’s means were adequately explained.

Matthew Sweet’s The Lonely Clock felt a bit less integrated. Sweet is excellent at weaving literary allusions into his Who scripts, but I didn’t spot any here (apart from Leela doing a Sherlock Holmes impression). There are lots of fantastic images – a glass business card, a time-travelling tube train, people frozen in time – and an excellent guest performance by Victoria Alcock (one of the passengers in Planet of the Dead) but it didn’t quite come together for me.

Justin Richards is a hit-or-miss writer, and I’m afraid The Hourglass Killers was a miss for me; Colin Baker’s character has adopted the pseudonym Claudius Dark for no good reason, Kempston and Hardwick imprison Terry Molloy’s character Lord Ampthill in an hourglass for no good reason, there is a very silly scene in the British Library, and the denouement is reminiscent of the Silvester Stallone film Daylight except rather less plausible. The ensemble cast are all having good fun, but we are dangerously close to jumping the shark here.

I am still looking forward to the next season, even though it will have no Leela; I think the writers may find it easier to write good stories with only two main characters to write about. One of the problems with this season, I felt, was a bit of a tendency to put stuff in just so that the characters had something to do.

I greatly enjoyed The Davros Mission, by Nicholas Briggs, set between Resurrection of the Daleks and Remembrance of the Daleks, in which a Thal agent played by Miranda Raison infiltrates the ship on which Davros is being transported as a prisoner to Skaro by the Daleks; there are some excellent two-hander scenes between Raison and Terry Molloy, and the darkness of the main plot is balanced by two mildly comic aliens who are Dalek slaves. Big Finish’s Davros spinoffs in general are amog its best work.

In summary, The Davros Mission is well worth seeking out, especially as it comes as part of a job lot with the other Davros plays; and the first half of Jago and Litefoot’s fourth season is mostly good, while the second half is mostly OK.

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Links I found interesting for 27-07-2012

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Links I found interesting for 25-07-2012

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July Books 22) Speed of Dark, by Elizabeth Moon

Probably the best known of many SF stories dealing with autism, this is a near-future novel told in the first person by an autistic man who is being pressured to try an experimental “cure” by his employers (who are in the right line of work to provide it to him).

The actual plot is pretty straightforward – there’s an Evil Boss and an Evil Acquaintance who both have to be dealt with in fairly unsurprising fashion – but the success of the book is Moon’s depiction of what it might feel like to be autistic and write down how your life seems to you. Of course, one must take this as it is – Moon is not autistic, and so this is a literary experiment inviting the reader to inhabit the author’s impression of the uncanny valley of autistic experience rather than a clinical description of a real-life individual – but sf fans are used to authors asking them to inhabit imaginary worlds, imaginary cultures and imaginary states of consciousness, so it’s not surprising that a book that pulls this off well, as Speed of Dark does, would appeal to readers of the genre.

On first reading, I felt that the ending of the book, when we discover what choice Lou makes with regard to the cure, somewhat undermined the rest of the book. On re-reading, I felt rather more comfortable with it: it seemed to me this time that the climax is signalled decently far ahead and that in fact Moon avoids the temptation of giving the book too pat an ending. There is an interesting use of the New Testament in reaching the conclusion, though I will grumble about inaccuracy in a comment to this entry.

Speed of Dark won the 2004 Nebula Award for Best Novel. The others on the shortlist were Lois McMaster Bujold’s Diplomatic Immunity, Carol Emshwiller’s The Mount, Kathleen Ann Goonan’s Light Music, Nalo Hopkinson’s The Salt Roads and Jack McDevitt’s Chindi. The only one I have read is the Bujold and I will admit that it is minor; I don’t remember hearing much about the others at the time let alone since. None of the shortlisted books was on the Hugo ballot, which is unusual and can sometimes mean a healthy strength and diversity and sometimes mean that the selection process generated a weak list. However, Speed of Dark is a worthy winner.

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July Books 21) Parasite, by Jim Mortimore

A New Adventure with an impressively imagined setting, a possibly living cylindrical structure containing madly mutating mosses, monkeys, and massive trees, into which the Doctor, Benny and Ace arrive and get tangled up with terminal mayhem. I found it a bit of a slow read but have a feeling that may be my fault rather than the author’s. The science of the setting may not be completely sound but I was able to suspend my disbelief.

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Links I found interesting for 22-07-2012

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Links I found interesting for 21-07-2012

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July Books 20) Wonderland, by Mark Chadbourn

The last of the run of Doctor Who novels set between The Power of the Daleks and The Highlanders takes the Doctor, Ben and Polly to San Francisco in 1967, where a flower child called Summer tells the story of an alien power trying to take over the world through bad acid. The first-person perspective is quite rare in Who books, but done well here, though the story has few surprises.

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July Books 19) Lucy, by Jamaica Kincaid

A memorable short novel about a Caribbean teenager who comes to the US to look after a white American family’s children. Lucy is a little naïve, a little tactless, sometimes quite observant, and doing some rapid growing up in a strange country. Recommended.

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Links I found interesting for 19-07-2012

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Links I found interesting for 17-07-2012

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July Books 18) Dracula, by Bram Stoker

A very enjoyable reread of the fundamental vampire novel, which I guess I read first when I was about 15 and again when I was about 30; I am now 45. It remains a rollicking good story, as our heroes (a lawyer, a lord, a psychiatrist, an American, a weird Dutchman and a beautiful woman) chase to the end of Europe to prevent foreign evil from contaminating the purity of the heart of Empire. You can read all kinds of political agendas into it, and you are probably meant to.

One point in Stoker’s favour is that Mina Murray, later Mina Harker, actually has rather an active role despite needing to be rescued (and actually it’s her husband who is most in need of rescuing at the end of the first section of the book). She types up all the notes and distributes them; she knows the railway timetables from Varna (pretty damn impressive); her telepathic link with Dracula allows the team to guess where he is; and the men make a mistake, and admit it is a mistake, when they try to keep information from her delicate ears. Of course the other female characters who get turned by Dracula (including Mina’s friend Lucy) are much more passive, but I thought Mina’s role worth noting.

After an early reference to a Kodak camera startled me, clanwilliam pointed out that the book is all about technology – the camera, the phonograph, the typewriter, the railway trains. But this isn’t rationality alone defeating superstition – our heroes also use garlic, crucifixes and consecrated Hosts (this in a book by an Irish Protestant!) alongside the latest tech. It’s about the forces of good, with technology and teamwork, using all means at hand to defeat an individualist, primitive evil. (One of the more chilling moments is when they realise that Dracula is strong enough to hump his own coffin about the place; he works best without allies, and consumes his servants.)

Now that I know the Balkans and Eastern Europe to an extent, I was interested to check off the extent to which Stoker used reality for his setting (I believe that he never visited what is now Romania himself). Various people (including Ken MacLeod) have pointed out that all this vampire stuff gives the historically liberal and pluralist lush arable territory of Transylvania a bad name; the more isolated and geographically challenging Bukovina is the more likely location for the castle. I’m also a bit dubious about the eastward spread of the Czechs – I think Stoker meant Hungarians there. But he namechecks several local delicacies which I have eaten myself. I note that Harker takes the western route, tied into normal business practices of Central Europe, when he approaches the castle at the start of the book, whereas the final campaign is waged from the less developed and more obscure south-east.

There are some incongruities. Dracula has a moustache; I can never quite get over that. Also Stoker’s ear for accents is not unerring; while I will accept his Cockney, his Whitby yokels seem to me to be under some Irish influence, and Van Helsing does not speak like any native Dutch speaker I have ever met (see my pedantic comment). I also don’t quite understand why Dracula first imprisons Harker and then lets him go, except that the plot needed Harker’s diary to get back. These are not fatal points.

There is probably more to say about deviance in general, and also Lucy’s love life (is her vampirism punishment for having three boyfriends?) But I am out of space. Read it, if you haven’t.

July Books 17) Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman

I used to confuse Walt Whitman with Wally Whyton, and was always vaguely puzzled as to why a performer of comic songs on 1970s British children's TV seemed to have some kind of iconic status in American literature. It may also be telling that none of Whitman's poetry (in fact, I think no American poetry at all) made it into the curriculum of my Belfast grammar school's English department. But I seem to be in Whitman's historical zone at the moment – this is the fourth book I have read since the start of June about nineteenth-century America – so I shall confuse him with Whyton no more.

Leaves of Grass is one of those seminal (I choose the word for reason that will become clear) works of literature that may be as important for its influence as for its actual content. I do not consider myself especially well-read in great poetry, but even I can tell that Yeats was drawing a lot from Whitman's well, both in terms of style (the free verse following thoughts through variations of meter) and substance (creating a national story steeped in history), and that the more experimental prose writers of the twentieth century, including Burroughs and Delany, owe a lot to Whitman's stream of consciousness approach and also to his frank sexuality. Indeed, the fact that a mid-nineteenth-century writer could adopt such a clearly bisexual perspective was the biggest surprise of the book for me.

Whitman's vision of America is pretty coherent, of manly white men (and their women occasionally) creating a new society on a new continent which will be a beacon of civilisation for the rest of the world to admire and emulate. The continent's previous inhabitants are preserved in place names – New York is always Mannahatta, Long Island is Paumanok. It is also striking that Canada (or Kanada) is part of the geographical vision. It's a fascinating example of a political programme expressed in verse.

It's therefore a shame that such a lot of it isn't actually very good. The early piece, "Song of Myself", which is the core of the original mercifully short 1855 Leaves of Grass, and the elegy to Lincoln, "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd", were the two pieces that actually grabbed me. Otherwise, I found it frustrating that in many of the poems, even the shorter ones, a good opening concept gets lost in lists and in listless repetitions, with the occasional good line jumping out at you. Whitman is very easy to parody, but sometimes the original is so absurd that there is no need. As Rossini (or was it Shaw) supposedly said about Wagner's operas, there are some beautiful moments but some terrible half-hours.

So I'm glad I finally got through this, but would recommend that others interested in getting to know Whitman look for highlights, preferably in an anthology including other writers.

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Links I found interesting for 15-07-2012

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Fantasy Mistressworks meme

From here, original here. As per usual, bold the ones you have read, italicise the ones you started but didn't finish.

1. Songspinners – Sarah Ash
2. The Bloody Chamber – Angela Carter
3. Rats and Gargoyles – Mary Gentle
4. Outlander – Diana Gabaldon (this was published as Cross Stitch in the UK)
5. The Riddle-Master of Hed – Patricia McKillip
6. The Blue Sword – Robin McKinley
7. Lud-in-the-Mist – Hope Mirrlees
8. The Curse of the Mistwraith – Janny Wurts
9. Shadow Magic – Patricia C Wrede
10. Assassin’s Apprentice – Robin Hobb
11. A Wizard of Earthsea – Ursula K Le Guin
12. Familiar Spirit – Lisa Tuttle
13. Beauty – Sheri S Tepper
14. Diadem from the Stars – Jo Clayton
15. The Crystal Cave – Mary Stewart
16. Black Horses for the King – Anne McCaffrey
17. The Clan of the Cave Bear – Jean M Auel
18. Fortress in the Eye of Time – C J Cherryh
19. Red Moon and Black Mountain – Joy Chant
20. The Birthgrave – Tanith Lee
21. Briefing for a Descent into Hell – Doris Lessing
22. Interview with the Vampire – Anne Rice
23. The Wood Wife – Terri Windling
24. Briar Rose – Jane Yolen
25. The Porcelain Dove – Delia Sherman
26. The Winter Prince – Elizabeth Wein
27. The Time of the Dark – Barbara Hambly
28. Sword of Rhiannon – Leigh Brackett
29. Tam Lin – Pamela Dean
30. Fire in the Mist – Holly Lisle
31. The Sacrifice – Kristine Kathryn Rusch
32. The Beleagured City – Margaret Oliphant
33. The Soul of Lilith – Marie Corelli
34. The Citadel of Fear – Francis Stevens
35. Jirel of Joiry – C L Moore
36. Sheepfarmer’s Daughter – Elizabeth Moon
37. Dragon Prince – Melanie Rawn
38. Black Trillium – Julian May, Andre Norton & Marion Zimmer Bradley
39. The Thief’s Gamble – Juliet E McKenna
40. Daggerspell – Katharine Kerr
41. The Blue Manor – Jenny Jones
42. The Barbed Coil – J V Jones
43. In the Red Lord’s Reach – Phyllis Eisenstein
44. The Spirit Ring – Lois McMaster Bujold
45. The Last of the Renshai – Mickey Zucher Reichert
46. Archangel – Sharon Shinn
47. The Hall of the Mountain King – Judith Tarr
48. A Blackbird in Silver – Freda Warrington
49. Kindred – Octavia Butler
50. The Red Magician – Lisa Goldstein

Any particular recommendations from those I haven't read? NB that I did not particularly enjoy Rats and Gargoyles, and hated Interview with the Vampire.

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The Emerald Tiger / The Jupiter Conjunction / The Butcher of Brisbane

I'm not quite up to date with Big Finish, as there are several Sixth Doctor audios which I have yet to write up, but I have now listened to the three most recent Fifth Doctor stories, featuring Turlough, Tegan and Nyssa (set just after Nyssa's departure in Terminus, the idea being that she has been picked up by her former crew-mates several decades late in her own timeline).

There is one thing about The Emerald Tiger, by Barnaby Edwards, which is quite remarkable and superlative: the incidental music, by Howard Carter, is some of the best I can remember from any Who story ever. I see that Carter has done music and sound design for several other Big Finish stories, none of which I remember grabbing me as much; perhaps they just gave him his head for a change. Here's 40 seconds of a particularly thrilling passage.

As you can tell from the music, the setting is India, in 1926, and the Doctor and colleagues end up in an exciting chase by train, car and balloon of dubious Brits and a large telepathic tiger to a lost valley where mysterious things are afoot due to a local infusion of handwavium (not what it's actually called but you get the idea). All jolly good fun, with the trememndous energy of the music reflected in the performance of regulars and guest cast (who include Cherie Lunghi).

I'm afraid that The Jupiter Conjunction, by Eddie Robson, didn't work for me as well. I was simply not convinced by the astronomy and physics of the setting, a human colony on a comet which has been used to ferry supplies between earth of Jupiter and now faces crisis because the planets will not be aligned correctly in future. It seems to me utterly implausible that one might use a comet for this purpose – no reference is made to the rapid rotation, the low gravity and the icy, crumbly, volatile surface; and even if anyone ever did, the positions of the planets are not exactly unpredictable and would be built into the business model from the start. If you can swallow the background (and most listeners probably will) it's a decent enough tale of aliens being exploited by human allies and vice versa, with comedian Rebecca Front playing the chief villain, and some excellent sound work on the alien voices. Most people will like it more than I did.

But then we are back in business with Marc Platt's The Butcher of Brisbane, a prequel to the classic Fourth Doctor story The Talons of Weng-Chiang, telling the future history of how Magnus Greel (played by Angus Wright) got his alien sidekick (played chillingly by Rupert Frazer) to design the Peking Homunculus, and eventually fled the ruins of the 51st century leaving conflict and destruction behind him. The hints that we are given in Talons are considerably augmented by Platt's vivid imagination, in particular how he manages to insert Nyssa and Turlough into Greel's inner circle; the world of Magnus Greel is credibly sketched out. It would have been very easy to write a bad prequel to Talons, and we have instead a good one – certainly the best of these three.

(Though the story's treatment of the Time Agents seemed to me at odds with what we know of them from New Who and Torchwood.)

So, in summary, The Butcher of Brisbane is the best dramatically; The Emerald Tiger has superb music; and The Jupiter Conjunction is not recommended for astronomers. I think all three are fairly penetrable for non-Who fans – the Talons of Weng-Chiang references in The Butcher of Brisbane are important only for the choreography of the dénouement.

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July Books 16) The Imprint of Place, by David P. Becker

Dawn, by Will BarnetThis was a freebie book slipped into the goodie bag for a conference I spoke at in Camden, Maine, in early 2007. I confess that my knowledge of Maine is pretty much restricted to the two-hour drive through a snow-filled landscape from Portland airport to the conference venue, and my knowledge of print-making as an art is not a lot more than my knowledge of Maine, so it is not very remarkable that it took me five and a half years to get around to reading it. It was published in conjunction with The Maine Print Project, which was apparently the largest collaborative fine-arts project in Maine's history (this may not be a hotly contested claim to fame).

But it's a nice coffee-table book (if we only had a coffee-table), with some spectacular examples of lithography etc. I illustrate with the rather evocative "Dawn", by Will Barnet, which is actually on the book's cover, but there were half a dozen or more where I turned the page and gasped in delight; you will find most of them on the Maine Print Project site. The nineteenth-century section is interesting from a historical perspective, in that some of the artists illustrated were professional printers using their own equipment in their spare time, while others were ladies of leisure who came up the coast from Boston or even New York to sketch evocative images of he Main landscape on their lithographs. It's a nice book to have in the house.

And the moral is that if someone in Maine invites you to come look at their etchings, it's probably worthwhile accepting the invitation.

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Links I found interesting for 14-07-2012

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Links I found interesting for 13-07-2012

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Links I found interesting for 12-07-2012

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Language quiz: answer and poll

The language that I posted about last night is Marshallese (Kajin Majol), the indigenous language of the Marshall Islands. The “ri Majol” are therefore the Marshallese people. Congrats to and .

I cut and pasted the two articles from my source (a PDF of the 25 May edition of Marshall Islands Journal), so the orthography is as used in newspapers. This means that none of the diacritical marks of the standard language have been used: “ri Majol” should strictly be “ri M̧ajōļ”, with hooks under the M and l which your browser may not render (mine gets the ļ but not the M̧).

Actually, that’s a good excuse for a poll:

(Sorry, , no ampersands.)

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Language quiz

Here's a language I hadn't come across before:

Jilnuul bojjan in ri Majol, rej kio mour im jokwe ilo United States, im kab jikin ko jet an, ekkar nan aer keidri ilo bonbon ko jimor, an US im kab <redacted>.

Bonbon eo an <redacted> nan 2011, ej ripoote 53,158 armij, rej kio jokwe ilo Aelon Kein. Bonbon eo an US nan 2010 ej ba bwe ear wor 22,434 ri Majol rej jokwe ilo United States im kab jikin ko an.

Bonbon kein ruo, elane kobaiki ippen dron, rej kwalok 75,592 ri Majol, ak 30 bojjan in jonan ro im rej jokwe kio ilo US im kab jikin ko an.

Bonbon eo an US nan 2000 eo, ej kwalok bwe ear wor 6,650 ri Majol ilo US. Bonbon eo an <redacted> nan 1999 eo, ear bune 50,840 ri Majol ilo Majol in.

Bonbon kein rej kwaloke 57,490. 6,650 eo im rej jokwe ilo US, rej tarrin in wot, 12 bojjan in woran aolepen ri Majol.

And the English translation:

Thirty percent of <redacted> now live in the United States and its territories, according to a comparison of the recent US and <redacted> national censuses.

The <redacted> census in 2011 reported 53,158 people living in <redacted>. The 2010 US census said there are 22,434 <redacted> living in the United States and its territories.

These two figures combine for a total of 75,592 <redacted>, with 30 percent being accounted for by those living in the US and its territories.

The 2000 US census showed 6,650 <redacted> in the US. The 1999 <redacted> census counted 50,840 <redacted>in the <redacted>.

These total 57,490. The 6,650 living in the US accounted for about 12 percent of all <redacted>.

Anyone like to guess who the "ri Majol" are? (And no sneaky Googling!)

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