Caption needed for this picture:

Jim Bennett was my supervisor for my M Phil in Cambridge, and then the external examiner for my Ph D; he’s now in charge of the Museum for the History of Science in Oxford, and it was a pleasant surprise to hear his Belfast tones on Radio 4 this morning talking about his new exhibition on Marconi and the early history of radio.

One point he didn’t make, but has always intrigued me, is Marconi’s Irish connection. His mother was a Jameson, of the whiskey family, and his first wife was the daughter of Lord Inchiquin. We tend to think of him in Italian stereotypes (which given his later political activities, and the fact that Mussolini was his best man at his second wedding, is justified to an extent) but when in the UK in the late 19th and early 20th centuries he was able to present himself convincingly as a member of the Anglo-Irish ascendancy, and he used both Ballycastle and Mizen Head as experimental bases (the former providing the title for a poetry collection by Medbh McGuckian).

One thing I didn’t hear on the radio this morning was the Radio 4 UK theme. As it happened the alarm went off at the right time yesterday morning, and so I did hear it for the last time. Well, the new format will probably be easier to get up with, but it feels a little strange all the same.

Have been pondering the ups and downs of being here, as I often do. On the plus side, no more wrangling with the NHS. Have been following a couple of medical dramas on my f-list, one person with an eye problem which was eventually (and quickly) diagnosed by going private, another simply trying to get a repeat prescription for the Pill from her local GP but being told she had to wait ten days – I mean, what is that about? Enforcing chastity and continence on young British women? I remember having to argue with the doctor’s receptionist in Belfast about whether I was ill enough to deserve an appointment at the end of the following week.

At least here in Belgium, I’ve never had to wait even 24 hours to see the doctor, and never more than a week to see a specialist. It isn’t free at the point of service – you pay about 20 euro per consultation, 80% of which then gets refunded to you – but I think that the defenders of the NHS have fetishised the “free at the point of service” mantra to the point that it obscures the lousy qualities of the free service you get. (And of course the care available to us for our children is way in advance of what we would get in the UK.)

On the other hand, one of the Belgians on my f-list has just been deprived of two months’ worth of state benefits due to a bureaucratic slip-up, with, of course, no information given to her about how she might appeal against the decision. My experience with Belgian bureaucracy is that once you threaten them with the ombudsman they cave pretty fast, but only because most Belgians don’t even think to do that. The Belgian state services may be efficient and generously funded, but they are also paternalistic and rather inhuman.

There are, of course, other upsides of living here. I went for a good long bike ride in the woods yesterday, as the first step in my spring keep-fit programme. (Must go and do it again once I’ve finished writing this.) came over in the afternoon, which was very nice. (She has written her visit up in much detail on her own journal.) We went out for dinner last night, and then came home and watched Doctor Who (having taped it). And the Sky and Telescope page tells me that if this evening is clear – which it looks like it may well be – we have a good chance of seeing the International Space Station in the southern sky at about 2140. Will report back.

9) Malachy, by Brian Scott

Brian Scott was one of those charming academic figures I vaguely knew during my time at the Queen’s University of Belfast from 1991 to 1996, a lecturer in Latin (finally given a personal chair as a consolation prize for being made to retire in 1995) who shared my interest in the twelfth century – indeed, he was best known for his work with F.X. Martin on Gerald of Wales’ account of the Norman conquest of Ireland, and was also good enough to cast an expert eye over my still-unpublished work on Eleanor of Aquitaine. I suppose he is probably still alive, but it’s unlikely we will meet again, so I use the past tense.

This very short book, published in 1976, is really a presentation of highlights from the life of St Malachy (1094-1148) written by his close friend St Bernard of Clairvaux. Malachy was responsible for bringing the Irish church into line with Roman practice; he was involved with much ecclesiastical intrigue and skullduggery between Downpatrick, Armagh, and Bangor, with reflections elsewhere in Ireland (especially Munster); and eventually died while visiting Clarivaux, rather as his eventual successor as Archbishop of Armagh, Cardinal Ó Fiaich, did in 1990.

The book is written for a popular (and pious Catholic) rather than academic audience (published by Veritas), but even so I was a bit surprised that there was no real discussion of whether the “reforms” were actually so badly needed; I guess 1976 predated a lot of the recent rise of interest in Celtic spirituality. I was even more surprised that, introducing the chapter on miracles, Scott writes of “that mysterious divine power which cannot be pinned down or defined, and which is still working today through men gifted with mysterious powers of healing and counselling.” However I was much relieved that he completely writes off the “Prophecies of St Malachy” about future Popes as a renaissance forgery.

Leave me a comment; I’ll ask you five questions; you do same on your LJ, if you like. (I still owe three people questions from the last round of this; will do those tomorrow.)

Four sets of questions here:

From :

1. One of the things I’m bitter about is the political situation in the States has obliterated my love for politics. Do you ever find yourself losing the faith, embroiled as you are in politics?
   I am buoyed up by a basic faith in humanity: that political leaders are, on the whole, not mendacious or even particularly greedy (if you are greedy, there are much better ways of making money than going into politics). And they are therefore susceptible to reasoned argument. Some are obviously more so than others; and some simply have very different world-views to mine. But in general, I feel that it is possible to make a small difference by my own efforts, so I keep on going.
2. Given Phemonenal Cosmic Powers, or heck, just a chance, which would you be, a superhero or a supervillain? Why?
   Superhero, of course. I am basically a Good Person. Unless total anonymity were assured, and I knew that nobody would ever penetrate my secret identity. Then – Bwa! Ha! Ha! – I could certainly be a super-villain!
3. You write wonderful thoughtful book reviews. Recommend something for me to read, please!
   Why, thank you. I would heartily recommend Ali and Nino, the great romantic novel of the South Caucasus, by Kurban Said.
4. It’s the end of the world as we know it. (Do you feel fine?) Is it a thing of poetry or of prose?
   If I am describing it, prose. Have never quite been able to discipline my thoughts into the poetic format.
5. What one person from history would you like to sit down and have a talk with, and why?
   I have always been deeply and utterly fascinated by Eleanor of Aquitaine. I don’t think I would learn much from her, but there would be a certain amount of overwhelmed fanboy in my demeanour if I got to talk to her.

From :

1. Which country do you/would you most love to visit, and why?
   Countries I have visited: I do like Macedonia, a small Balkan state which I feel I have very much got the hang of, and which I have not explored to my satisfaction. The most intriguing place I haven’t visited is Pitcairn Island, because of its bizarre and disturbing human story.
   
2. If it were possible to find magically find an equitable and widely acceptable resolution of any three conflicts in the world, which three would you choose to settle? And why?
   Crumbs, only three? Well, I’m leaving out Northern Ireland, and also the Balkans, because I think they are on their way to reasonably equitable settlement without my supernatural help. The three that worry me most are Israel/Palestine, which seems to have a pernicious influence all over the rest of the world; Cyprus, which seems monumentally intractable and has potentially huge geopolitical implications; and Armenia/Azerbaijan, which I think has similar wider destabilising potential.
3. What do you like the best about your wife?
   The way her eyes dance when she is amused.
4. What would your perfect weekend consist of?
   Good food, good reading, and a little culture.
5. How would you define yourself?
   My summary for the blog (actually written in response to an earlier interview question) says “Husband, father of three, Irish, European, UK citizen, liberal, Catholic, political analyst, science fiction fan, psephologist, lapsed medievalist, aspiring polyglot.” I think the Irish and liberal elements are the most important ones in making me who I am.

From :

1. If there was one book in the world that you could have written, which one would it be?
   Very difficult. I envy all fiction writers. I also envy all writers of great non-fiction. I suppose I really wish I had had the time resources and intellectual application to write Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. As it is, all I’ve managed is to read bits of it.
2. You seem to have gone from our first meeting at Mecon a few years back to moderating panels at Worldcon, a meteoric rise throught the ranks of con-dom. Do you have any plans to go into con-running yourself, and who would be your ideal guest line-up?
   I was not a total neofan in Belfast; I had a certain amount of form already through my website reviewing Hugo nominees from 2000 onwards, and from posting to rec.arts.sf.written since 1995. And I think my decision to start reviewing books on my livejournal, plus my attendance at the first P-Con, and then Pico-Con and a First Thursday last year, all helped. Also the fact that I do a lot of panel presentations at work can’t have done me any harm as an attractive Worldcon panel participant.
   Living where and as I do, I don’t think I will be able to make much of a contribution to con-running in the near future. However, I would like to put something back into the fannish community, and will be thinking about that over the next few months.
3. Of the authors you’ve met so far, who impressed you most?
   Oh, almost all of them. Special hugs to Juliet McKenna though, who is awfully good fun to hang out with and actually writes decent books as well; I guess she is probably the only one who I got to know in person before reading her works!
4. And least?
   Now, that would be telling. I must say the one co-panellist whose behaviour really appalled me – turned up late, reeking of his previous night’s activities and made an incoherent rambling contribution to the panel – isn’t especially known as an author.
5. Is David Tennant (happy birthday to him today, BTW [these questions asked a couple of days ago]) going to be a classic Doctor?
   Ecclestone is a very tough act to follow. But I have hopes of Tennant. As far as I know he is the first actual diehard fan of the series to get the job. He is certainly not the worst so far. But I confess my knowledge of Who is largely based on the Baker and Davison years, and I’m still catching up with some of the rest.

And from :

1. What is the draw of politics for you? You seem to have been interested in it for years in various capacities and still maintain an active interest.
   I want to make the world a better place; and I kid myself that by getting involved I can help to do just that. Also I am fascinated by voting and election results, which does sort of translate into politics fairly readily…
2. If you could punch a single writer for their works who would it be and why?
   I am generally a non-violent kind of guy, but I was most recently really annoyed by Rebecca Jenkins’ book on Fanny Kemble. Some of the political stuff I read on-line makes me angry as well. But in general it is not so much the fiction writers who irritate me for writing bad fiction as their publishers for inflicting it on the world.
3. What three discretionary items would you bring to a desert island vacation, you know outside of things like keys, wallet, cellphone?
   1) Lots of books
   2) lots more books
   3) massage oil
4. Of all the languages that you have heard, which do you think is the sexiest?
   I’ve said before that I love the sound of both Italian and Finnish. But there is something just a bit more earthy and sexy about Spanish! (Which I also do not speak)
5. Your favourite tv show of all time? And why is it your favourite?
   Hmm. I can’t really pick just one. Doctor Who and Buffy have both been great at different times; likewise, at a much earlier point in my life, Hill Street Blues. Anything with humour, drama, and decent characterisation. But to be honest, television has not been such an important part of my life.

Was surprised to learn from WikiPedia that:

Dominic Green (born 1970), is a British musician and science fiction author. He also writes and edits non-fiction about music and history….

Green is the son of saxophonist Benny Green and the actress Toni Kanal. Dominic read English Literature at St. John’s College, Oxford. After graduation, he worked as a professional jazz guitarist, playing with his father, John Dankworth, Doris Troy, Kym Mazelle and the James Taylor Quartet.

Since 1996 he has been publishing short science fiction, predominately in Interzone.

I think they are confusing this Dominic Green with this one. The one who writes sf went to St Catherine’s College, Cambridge at the same time as I was at Clare, so must be my age or a year younger, not born as late as 1970.

7) Secret Files: The Inside Story of International Rescue, by Chris Bentley, Stephen Cole and Graham Bleathman

Simply superb for the Thunderbirds fan in your life.

I do wonder if F will absorb the fact that his role models all have science and technology degrees from well-known universities.

He has already worked out that in less than three years, Jeff Tracy will be born.

(On 2 January 2009. It says so in the book, so it must be true.)

Watched episode 4 last night, and episodes 5 and 6 tonight. Will have to go back and do it all again with the commentary turned on. But it really is very good, after all this time. The whole thing is very much Davros’ story, rather than that of the Doctor or even the Daleks. The last few scenes, where his creations turn on him because they are doing what he made them to do, are superb.

Pity? I have no understanding of the word. It is not registered in my vocabulary bank.

I wonder if The Deadly Assassin would hold up as well?

6) William Heinemann: A Memoir, by Frederic Whyte

I chased this down because the author was a distant relative of mine, and it is the most easily obtainable (and the cheapest) of his books, published in 1929, nine years after the death of its subject, the London publisher William Heinemann. I was reading it really for information about the author, and not surprisingly didn’t get much; most of the book in fact consists of letters from Heinemann’s friends, telling anecdotes about Heinemann and Whistler (usually) or some other author, some of whom I have heard of and most of whom I haven’t. There is a chapter on his unhappy marriage; there is very little about his travels in India and Burma except that they happened. Whyte himself does have one really good line:

The Spoils of Poynton was the first of Henry James’s novels, as Mr Percy Lubbock says, “which belong definitely to his ‘later manner'”. There must be a great many people who, like myself, delight in details concerning the personality and the literary methods of Henry James without ever having learnt to appreciate those books of his which in his own eyes and in the eyes of the elect constituted his chief claim to distinction as a writer. I have never read, and shall probably never read, The Spoils of Poynton (the heroine’s name in itself, Fleda Vetch, is enough to deter me)…

Having admitted that I wasn’t very interested in its subject, I actually found it a light and easy read (certainly after Alexander Hamilton). I am dismayed by my own ignorance of the literary culture of the time. Heinemann set up shop in the 1890s and immediately made his name with The Bondman by Hall Caine. I had heard of neither novel nor writer, though apparently Caine was the highest earning author in England. Mrs Flora Annie Steel comes across as a great character and was clearly a best-selling author to boot; similarly unknown to me. But Heinemann did manage to talent-spot the young H.G. Wells and published the Time Machine (1895), rather a risky punt for an unknown author with such an extraordinary subject, and followed up with The Invisible Man and The Island of Dr Moreau the next year, and The War of the Worlds two years after that. Another unlikely prospect who he propelled to success was Joseph Conrad. He also did a lot to popularise foreign writers, and especially foreign theatre, in Britain. George Bernard Shaw tells an anecdote of how Heinemann turned him down, but is sympathetic to the publisher’s plight rather than bitter.

Early on in the book, one of Whyte’s correspondents refers to Heinemann’s “race”, and Whyte protests in a footnote that the family had been Christians for two generations. Uh-oh, I thought, and braced myself for some 1920s anti-semitism. Rather to my surprise, although indeed there are many references to Heinemann’s Jewish background, they are all unequivocally positive (intellectual brilliance, not really so bothered about making money, etc). I think that all stereotypes are regrettable, but not all are negative. In racial terms, the fact that Heinemann had very strong sympathies for Germany clearly did him more damage.

5) Alexander Hamilton, by Ron Chernow

Thanks to spending yesterday in bed I have finished this massive biography, which would have taken me otherwise another couple of weeks. As it happens the last book I read I also finished in bed feeling ill, and it was also a biography of a late 18th-century political figure, Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. In fact she and Hamilton were almost exact contemporaries, he born in 1755 and she in 1757; and both died aged 49, Georgiana of natural causes in 1806, Hamilton killed by the Vice-President of the United States in 1804. They never met – neither ever crossed the Atlantic – though they would certainly have had acquaintances in common – Hamilton’s brother-in-law was an English MP who was in with the Prince of Wales/Charles James Fox set of which Georgiana was the leading light.

Hamilton is unquestionably the more important figure historically. Georgiana was an important cultural reference point and a back-room political player in a not especially important phase of English history, whereas Hamilton was deeply involved in setting up the administrative infrastructure for today’s only superpower. Chernow suggests that “Alexander Hamilton is the foremost political figure in American history who never attained the presidency” and indeed it is pretty difficult to think of anyone else who could come close to matching that – Henry Clay? Martin Luther King? Chief Justice Roger Taney (and not in a good way)? Although I wish the book had been a bit shorter, it is every bit as good as Georgiana, and far better than McCullough’s Adams – indeed, I felt I got a better idea of Adams from the few dozen pages Chernow spends on him than in McCullough’s 650.

The start of Hamilton’s life is pretty dramatic: he was born into a white trash background in the West Indies; his parents were not married and he spent his early life wandering around the Leeward Islands, between Nevis, the Dutch possession of St Eustatius, and the then Danish possession of St Croix – now one of the US Virgin Islands; I have to say that between this and The Jennifer Morgue I have come to realise just how little idea I have of the geography of the Caribbean. He lost almost all his family through death (or in the case of his father desertion) by the time he was 14; but fortunately fell on his feet, found himself a wealthy patron (possibly his real father) who recognised his ability, and got sent to New York to complete his education. He never went back.

Hamilton’s achievements are significant, as aide to Washington during the war, joint (indeed main) author of the Federalist Papers, New York political activist, and most particularly as the first ever Secretary of the Treasury. 200 pages of the book are devoted to his term of slightly more than five years in that office, and Chernow makes a very good case for Hamilton’s crucial importance in producing a government of the United States that actually worked by creating a financial administration that was clearly superior to that of the states and (more importantly) that worked; when Jefferson and his supporters took over in 1801, having sworn to dismantle the system, they found it was simply impossible. Had there been no Hamilton, the United States of America could have gone the way of the Leeward Islands federation or the United Arab States.

Indeed, without Hamilton and the Federalist Papers, it might not have even got off the ground. One part of the story that was wholly new to me was the difficulty of getting New York to buy into the project in the first place. At the Constitutional Convention, Hamilton was the only one of three New York delegates at all keen on the idea of revising the Articles of Confederation, and his only significant contribution to the debate is described by the normally sympathetic Chernow as “daft”. But once it was over he put all his efforts into getting New York to ratify. Even that might not have worked, if the critical number of nine states had not been reached elsewhere so that the debate in New York shifted from whether or not the Constitution was a good idea in the first place, to whether or not New York could afford to be left out.

New York itself, incidentally, comes across as a major character in the book – Hamilton’s true home, despite having to leave it during the war (when it was under British occupation) and for the remaining time of his service in the federal government after it moved to Philadelphia. It is interesting that Hamilton’s track record in New York electoral politics was pretty poor. He was obviously a man who was great at intellectual argument and wearing down opponents who would engage with him on his own terms. But in New York he was consistently outmanœuvred by the likes of Aaron Burr, who eventually killed him, and even more so by Burr’s successor as Vice-President, George Clinton. Hamilton distrusted the mob and was no good at street politics. But he was fascinated by the city where he was educated, married and died. He had almost no knowledge of the South. (Oddly enough one of Burr’s first refuges after the duel was on the Carolina plantation of his friend Pierce Butler, whose grandson was to marry Fanny Kemble.)

Flawed characters are always much more interesting than saints. Hamilton was at the centre of the first sex scandal in American politics, and paid for it dearly with his political reputation. He had a knack of alienating people at just the wrong moment – Madison, Adams, and then Burr. Chernow concludes that he could never have become President. I don’t know; certainly his political fortunes were at a nadir in 1804. But had he managed to make and keep an alliance with some more stabilising figure, things could have been different. When he died he was still younger than anyone who has come to the presidency except Polk, Garfield, Pierce, Cleveland, Grant, Clinton, Kennedy or Teddy Roosevelt. Richard Nixon was 49 in 1962; Ronald Reagan was still an actor in 1960.

Anyway, this is a great book. It’s just a shame it is so loooong.

Final Results of 2004 Census Made Public

The Republic of Moldova [its Transnistrian region exclusive] is home to 3.4 people. Such is one of the main findings of the national census held here on October 5 through 12, 2004, the National Bureau of Statistics has reported.

It took them eight days to count 3.4 people? That’s not very fast. The Count in Sesame street would laugh at them…

It started when one of my field staff phoned to complain that our latest report had had an extract from a book about canoeing in the Caucasus inserted at the end as an advertisement. I tried to send emails complaining to the publications people at work from my childhood homes, but couldn’t. Meanwhile I recognised the name of the author of the canoeing book as G, a guy I had vaguely known through the Northern Irish board-games scene twenty years ago. Wandering around the university campus looking for him, I discovered I could fly, or at least lean backwards and hover at low level, and was rounded up by the security staff and brought to their office, where I found G sitting behind a desk. Mysteriously he now had two bodies, one with blank skin instead of eyes which did all the talking, and a mute cyclopean body sitting beside it, slowly blinking its double-pupilled eye, but making all the appropriate facial expressions.

And then I woke up.

Edited to add: I normally find other people’s dreams really dull to read (or listen to) and rarely inflict my own on people, but this was very weird. I notice also that two other people on my f-list felt compelled to blog about their dreams of last night. There was obviously something in the air.

Am spending today in bed, struck down by some bug. Hopefully just a 24-hour one.

But meantime I have been reminded of an eccentric election candidate of 1995. His posters were white on black, on A3 sheets of paper, mainly as far as I remember posted on the central reservation of the dual carriageway between Belfast and Bangor, so that potential voters would zoom past them at 70 miles per hour. In the end he got 101 votes (just beating the Natural Law Party, who came last with 100). He has stood at a number of elections since and never come close to winning.

1996 Forum election: he and his wife got 49 votes (0.09%, second last) in North Down, and his slate of candidates got a total of 204 votes (0.03%, came 22nd of the 22 slates entitled to a regional tally)
1998 Assembly election: 72 votes (0.2%, second last) in North Down
2001 local elections: 175 votes (2.5%, third last) in Bangor Abbey
2001 Westminster election: 444 votes (1.2% – second last, since he beat Sinn Fein) in North Down
2003 Assembly election: 109 votes (0.4%, last) in North Down
2005 local elections: 141 votes (2.4%, last) in Bangor Abbey
2005 Westminster election: 211 votes (0.7%, second last – again beating Sinn Fein) in North Down

I can’t help myself…

(from 🙂

What have I read?
These are the 25 most popular scifi books at What Should I Read Next?

I liked it!

I didn’t like it!

I want to read it!

The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy – Douglas Adams

The Hobbit – J. R. R. Tolkien

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix – J.K. Rowling

Ender’s Game – Orson Scott Card

The Lord of the Rings – J. R. R. Tolkien

Neuromancer – William Gibson

American Gods – Neil Gaiman

Snow Crash – Neal Stephenson

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe – C.S. Lewis

Dune – Frank Herbert

Good Omens – Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman

Cloud Atlas – David Mitchell

The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood

The Princess Bride – William Goldman

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell – Susanna Clarke

Fahrenheit 451 – Ray Bradbury

Neverwhere – Neil Gaiman

The Eyre Affair – Jasper Fforde

Pattern Recognition – William Gibson

A Game of Thrones – George R.R. Martin

The Diamond Age – Neal Stephenson

Cat’s Cradle – Kurt Vonnegut

The Stand – Stephen King

Stranger in a Strange Land – Robert Heinlein

The Colour of Magic – Terry Pratchett

Take the ‘What have I read?’ test now!
Eight different categories to try!
Buy your books at Amazon US or Amazon UK

OK, this is absurd. I currently have 146 books on my unread list on LibraryThing. That is in fact an increase of 13 over the course of 2006. (Though I am comforted to see one person on my f-list with three times as many.)

I have the following half-starts and obligations:

• Am halfway through Ron Chernow’s biography of Alexander Hamilton – liking it very much, but it is looong.
• Am reading A. Merritt’s The Moon Poll on my Palm T|X when waiting around for meetings to happen, stuck in traffic, etc.
• Started Delany’s Dhalgren back in January, put it aside half-way through, need to decide if I am actually going to finish or not
• Have committed to to review Živković’s Impossible Stories, which is massive
• Will as ever read all Hugo nominees to write up for website – not doing badly so far, got through three novels, two novellas, three novelettes and all short stories
• Have been promised book about Greek/Turkish relations for review here also (a cut-down version of an earlier review from this blog will appear shortly in Survival)
• Have ordered two more books about Cyprus for work purposes
• Am almost two years overdue with certain reviews for Infinity Plus.

In this post I set myself certain reading targets for 2006. Since then I have at least:

• finished Little Women, but not even bought The Brothers Karamazov, Catcher in the Rye, In Search of Lost Time, Mrs Dalloway, Things Fall Apart or The Tin Drum
• I have read A Clockwork Orange, The Space Merchants, and started Dhalgren, so to meet my target for 2006 I need only finish it and read two of A Princess of Mars, Tau Zero, Grey Lensman, Again, Dangerous Visions, The Female Man, Last and First Men and/or Deathbird
• no more “great comics” since New Year.
• The Einstein Intersection. Six (or maybe seven, depending what happens next month) more Nebula winners left, I can probably manange three of them.
• precisely eight out of the 133 books I had listed as “unread” three months ago. The other 25 books I have read so far this year were all obtained since 1 January. Since the unread list has had a net increase of 13 since then, I am at least reading over 45% of the books I acquire.

OK, well, I shall try and work through the unread list a bit more thoroughly. I think I shall try starting from both ends of the popularity scale: the most popular books on Library Thing that I haven’t so far read are The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold, The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini and Persuasion by Jane Austen, and my most recently acquired books that nobody else on LT owns are William Heinemann by Frederic Whyte, The Mark of Ran by Paul Kearney, and Irish Tales of Terror, ed. Jim McGarry. Maybe I can read those, along with the other aspirations mentioned above, in the next few months.

grew out of sf as a teenager, her father having read Dune to her when she was 4. But Stanisław Lem showed her the way back.

A message from the Master.

Just watched Saturday’s Doctor Who Confidential, following on the first episode of the new season. The first time I’d ever watched a DW Confidential, as we don’t get BBC3 in Belgium and I have only recently found a way of getting hold of these (and am not really inclined to watch all of last year’s run – we have excerpts on the DVD set after all). Two points leapt out:

1) Good heavens, David Tennant’s real accent! You really would not guess from his Doctor (with slightly odd Estuary English) that he really sounds like that! A real revelation!

2) Anne wonders, why no interview with Billie Piper? I suppose there can’t be an interview with everybody every week; but was she interviewed for the post-“Christmas Invasion” DW Confidential? (And will she be featured next week?)

Other points to note – I thought there was a slight tear in David Tennant’s eye when he said, of choosing his costume, “That was a real TARDIS moment!”

And going back to the actual programme, Billie showed that she can do accents too!

In response to a hail of requests (well, two, from and ), I’m posting the two Georgian recipes I did for Saturday dinner.

The main dish specifies pheasant (or cornish hen, whatever that is, at a pinch) but I substituted guinea fowl and the results were satisfactory. I think the key is to have two birds of about 2.5 lb, 1.2 kg each, preferably with a flavour of their own. The sauce base is, er, unusual – I think it is the first recipe I have ever seen for a rich sauce using tea – but very easy.

Moshushuli Khokhobi

¼ cup hazelnuts (I used peanuts; ¼ cup is 60 ml, but I just judged it by eye.)
¼ cup of really strong tea (ie using 60 ml of water)
2 birds of about 2.5 lb/1.2 kg each
salt and pepper
butter
1 tangerine
2 tablespoons/30 ml wine
2 tablespoons/30ml unsweetened grape juice

Garnish
Tangerine segments
Toasted hazelnuts (again, I used peanuts)
red and white grapes

        Preheat oven to 350° F/180&deg C
        Toast the hazelnuts, then grind them.
        Make the tea.
        Rinse the birds, salt and pepper them inside (if possible) and out, rub them with butter, put them in a greased casserole just large enought to hold them (breastside up).
        Throw the segments of the tangerine on top or around.
        Strain the tea, add the wine, juice and ground-up nuts. That is the sauce (easy, like I said). Pour onto the birds, making sure some bits of nut stay on top.
        Cover and put in the oven for an hour. Then uncover and put back for another 10 minutes.
        Take the birds out before serving (sauce can thus be served separately).
        Eat, accompanied by tangerines, nuts and grapes.

That was not bad at all, if I say so myself. I did rice with it, and also this Georgian bean recipe, which was very herby and flavoursome in the best Georgian tradition, and uses that very scientific measure of herbs, a sprig (good excuse to lay in some fresh herbs though):

Mtsvane Lobios Chirvuli

2 sprigs basil
1 sprig tarragon
2 sprigs summer savory (which we couldn’t get; rocket is the nearest local equivalent, but I couldn’t find that either, so did without)
1 sprig dill
1 sprig parsley
½ pound/250g green beans
1 small onion
¼ teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons (which I judge to be 150g) butter in lumps
1 egg

        Chop the herbs, trim and chop the beans.
        Put the beans in a big flat saucepan with enough water to half cover them. Chop the onion.
        Bring the water to the boil and add the herbs, onion and salt.
        Cover and simmer for 10-15 minutes until the beans are soft and the water has been absorbed. Beat the egg.
        Add the butter and lightly saute the mixture until the butter has melted.
        Stir in the egg, cook until the egg has set. Turn into a bowl.
        Eat.

All from Darra Goldstein’s book. Will report back as I do more.

The distant planet Xena (aka 2003 UB 313) reflects 86% of the light falling on it, according to New Scientist (hat-tip to , “making it about as bright as fresh snow and brighter than every other solar system body except Saturn’s moon Enceladus. Spectral observations suggest its surface is covered with frozen methane, like Pluto.”

I reckon it’s actually a large alien spaceship, which has got covered with methane dust over the centuries. Abandoned? Dormant? Awake, and preparing to come and say hello? You decide.

Several months ago, I posted about my frustration at not being able to get hold of the music of the Moldovan Irish music band, Ann’Sannat. Well, they now have distribution into continental Europe, here and here. (Heads off to look for credit card.)

F driving car. Again. Now on a boat. (1.3, 1.3 and 1.4 MB avi files.) All at Kessel-Lo.

We tried the planetarium near the Atomium earlier, but it was less successful – a little too advanced for F, and not awfully exciting I thought.

Jolly good, both.

Am trying another Georgian recipe. Unfortunately, after I had blithely bought all the other ingredients in the expectation that I would pick up a brace of pheasants somewhere in Leuven, I realised that there are in fact no pheasants to be had. So I bought two guinea fowl (parelhoenen) instead. Will report back.

Certain circumstances have enabled me to watch the 1965 Doctor Who story, “The Crusade”, this evening. (With a break to watch a BBC2 documentary about, er, the Crusades.) Sadly only episodes 1 and 3 survive in full, but we have the audio of episodes 2 and 4 with reconstruction via photographs etc. It is rather enjoyable.

In particular, there are three strong guest stars – Julian Glover as Richard the Lionheart, Jean Marsh (ex-wife of future Doctor Who Jon Pertwee) as his sister Joanna, and Walter Randall as the fictional villain el-Akir (Randall’s career seems to have been otherwise not awfully memorable bit parts but he did this pretty well, I thought). I’ll put in a word also for Viviane Sorrell as Fatima, who (according to IMDB) never played another role on-screen. And the regular cast are good (though Vicki not given much to do).

The plot is a fairly basic “time-travellers get caught up in real historical events and spent most of the story untangling themselves” one but done effectively, with a real sense of different places as between Crusader-controlled Jaffa and Saracen-controlled Lydda. (Though the thicket in which the Tardis lands does not look in the least Palestinian.) Of course, because the Doctor and Barbara know their history, this gives rise to the usual potential for time paradoxes, though with a certain air of wistfulness:

VICKI: Doctor, will he really see Jerusalem?

THE DOCTOR: Only from afar. He won’t be able to capture it. Even now his armies are marching on a campaign that he can never win.

VICKI: That’s terrible.

THE DOCTOR: Hmm!

VICKI: Can’t we tell him?

THE DOCTOR: I’m afraid not, my dear. No. History must take its course.

A particularly striking aspect is the use of rhythm in the script. I found one website claiming that parts of it were actually written in iambic pentamenter, and, well, it’s nearly true; see what you think.

RICHARD: We think our words were plain enough.

THE DOCTOR: It is
a good scheme, sire, if the princess agrees.

RICHARD: (quietly) Joanna knows nothing of this matter.

THE DOCTOR: Will she agree?

RICHARD: (firmly) You should rather ask
how can she refuse? To stem the blood,
bind up the wounds and give a host of men
lives and futures? Oh, now there’s a marriage
contract to put sacrifice to shame
and make a saint of any woman.

LEICESTER: Sire,
with all the strength at my command I urge you,
sire, to abandon this pretence of peace!

THE DOCTOR: (angrily) Pretence, sir? Here’s the opportunity
to save the lives of many men and you
do nought but turn it down! Without any
kind of thought. What do you think you are doing?

LEICESTER: I speak as a soldier. Why are we here
in this foreign land if not to fight?
The Devil’s horde, Saracen and Turk,
possess Jerusalem and we will not
wrest it from them with harried words.

THE DOCTOR: With swords, I suppose?

LEICESTER: Aye, with swords and lances, or the axe.

THE DOCTOR: You stupid butcher! Can you think
of nothing else but killing, hmm?

LEICESTER: You’re a man for talk, I can see that.
You like a table and a ring of men.
A parley here, arrangements there, but when
you men of eloquence have stunned each other
with your words, we, we the soldiers
have to face it out. On some half-started
morning while you speakers lie abed,
armies settle everything, giving sweat
sinewed bodies ironed life itself.

THE DOCTOR: I admire bravery and loyalty, sir.
You have both of these. But, unfortunately you haven’t any brain at all. I hate fools!

LEICESTER: A fool can match a coward any day.

(Leicester pulls out his sword and faces the Doctor.)

RICHARD: Enough of this! (to Leicester)
You dare to flourish arms before your King?

(Leicester reluctantly sheaths his sword.)

Perhaps I should start writing my livejournal entries in blank verse. I know of two people who do all theirs in haiku – which is all very well, but I tend to have more to say.

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Fasinating piece from Transitions On-Line describing a new film about Šuto Orizari, The Shutka Book of Records. It is indeed an extraordinary place – I visited during the conflict in 2001 – and my friend Thammy Evans describes it memorably in her book. Knowing the politics of it all I’m not surprised that the film has drawn some controversy. I note, however, the sensible comments of one guy from an extremely credible NGO quoted in TOL, “The protests should be directed towards the bad policies of Roma parties that are not able to deal with the problems of the Romani community.” I’ll be looking out for this.

News from one of the peace processes I follow:

New talks on Moldova’s rebel region scheduled for 19 April in Moscow

Chişinău, 13 April: A new round of Dniester settlement talks will be held on 19 April in Moscow, Ukrainian Deputy Interior Minister and envoy to the Dniester settlement talks Andriy Veselovskyy has told a news conference in Odessa [Ukraine].

Veselovskyy did not rule out that either Moldovan or Dniester representatives will attend the talks.

It’s good to hear that he thinks one of the two sides might show up to the talks, isn’t it?

One of our neighbours was murdered by her husband last weekend, stabbed with a kitchen knife during a row. We didn’t know her well, but she had been part of the organising team for the annual village fair. Very sad.

(And while I am noting this kind of thing, the gentleman in this story was a friend of a friend. Apparently he took out his hand-grenade to frighten some people he was arguing with, and accidentally set it off. Memo to self: don’t wave hand-grenades at people.)