Welcome to this month's random collection of stuff which, for whatever reason, I had overlooked so far but caught up with this month.
BOOKS
THE SHADOW OF THE WIND, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. This is one of those world wide bestsellers, touching the soul of millions, etc. There are some powerful characters though; the anti-hero Fermio is a brilliantly horrid creation. But if I were you, I wouldn't go there.
SITTING BULL PRISONER OF WAR, by Dennis C Pope. The author is a Welshman who has taken a lifelong interest in the ways of the Red man. Scrupulously researched and written in a rather engaging style, he tells the story of Sitting Bull's surrender to the US Cavalry in 1881, as his people had been so beaten down, and especially their food supply the buffalo wiped out, they were a community in the process of slowly starving to death. How these great people coped with this terrible humiliation and defeat makes intriguing reading.
BELOVED, by Toni Morrison. This was one of the selections on World Book Night, "she won the Nobel prize for literature in 1993- it's about the black person's struggle in the time of slavery" was my spiel as I passed them out. I'm glad I recommended it. Her style is unique, languid, labyrinthine even, but she can cast a spell with words few can match.
FILMS
THE GRAVE OF THE FIREFLIES (1988)P-D- Isao Takahati. A young lad and his younger sister get separated from their parents during the Kobe firebombings and escape to the countryside. But Japanese society in 1945 is imploding, and in this chaotic landscape they slowly realise they are starving to death. A quite extraordinary anime, and one of the most stunning anti-war tracts ever seen.
THE SOCIAL NETWORK (2010) D- David Fincher. I love the tag line for this one:
"You don't get to make 500 million friends without making a few enemies"
A very smart nerd has a brilliant idea. Then it all gets complicated. I loved this very sharp, very observant piece of movie making.
BILLIE TWO HATS (1974) D-Ted Kotcheff. Gregory Peck goes on the run after a robbery, and half breed Desi Arnaz Jr tags along for the ride. Another of those "realistic" westerns with Peck strong as always and Desi strangely magnetic as the quiet half breed.
THE TRIAL OF JOAN OF ARC D-Robert Bresson (1962) Bresson's minimalist style is not for everyone, but here he is at his best with a compelling tale of the last days of Saint Joan. Mind you, sometimes the acting is really quite bizarre...
DJANGO (1966)D- Sergio Corbucci. One of the founding fathers of the Spaghetti Western, with oodles of violence, but a uniquely stylised touch (eg the "hero" carries a coffin with him everywhere, but it turns out to contain a Gatling gun). Strangely appealing in its awful way.
CARLITO'S WAY (1993)D- Brian de Palma. Ex con goes straight but is tempted back into the scene and pushes his luck once too often. de Palma paints a nasty, frightening picture of life in the New York mobs, though Sean Penn as a repellent layer is also noteworthy.
BROADCAST NEWS (1987) D- James L Brooks. Authentic-feeling portrayal of life and love in the electronic media of the 80s. I loved Holly Hunter as the driven producer who delivers the goods but has an emotional breakdown at least once a day.
FRANKENSTEIN (2011) D- Danny Boyle- live broadcast from the National Theatre. It's hard to know how to classify this one: is it a film, or a play? The answer, I suppose, is both. Certainly the production is very skillfully lifted from the performance on the London stage onto our local cinema screen and we were able to relish the fine performances of Johny Lee Miller as Frankenstein and Benedict Cumberbatch as the monster. But one thing worries me. In our provincial city there is already a paucity of good quality theatre. Isn't there a risk that this innovation could seal the fate of provincial theatre for good?
Thursday, 31 March 2011
Wednesday, 30 March 2011
tuesday sub-mania
When my wife is away there is always a noticeable change of pace. Sometimes I can become lethargic and only wish to curl up on the couch and read. At other times I get a burst of sometimes quite useful activity.
Yesterday passed in an almost dizzying whirl of activity. In the morning I drove to a nearby town to speak to an old friend about an incident in his younger life. I told him I was going to try and obtain as much information about the incident as possible and then possibly make a short story out of it. He was perfectly happy about this and we chatted for nearly 2 hours; me taking notes in longhand. I hope I will be able to read them afterwards, because I got gold, more than enough to make a passable story I think.
After lunch I bumped into an old friend I normally only see on rare occasions, when he has been able to secure certain precious cargo for us. But on an impulse I invited him round to my house for a couple of hours. The guy is so computer-terrified he has virtually no knowledge of what they do at all. Now believe me, I am not one to try to convert him to the ways of enlightenment. For one thing my own skills are non too sophisticated, reaching about to the lofty heights of being able to change my profile picture on Facebook.
But during the course of the afternoon he asked me how well I knew Kipling's poem "If". Reasonably well was my response, though I wouldn't claim to be capable of reciting it verbatim.
"You know, I'd love to see the full written text somehow"
I assured him, despite his incredulity that it would be childsplay even for me to conjure this out of the ether pronto, which I duly did. I then went over to me printer and blasted him off a hard copy, right there. As I put it in his hands, mere moments after he had been idly speculating about the possibility, it had become fact right before his eyes. His face sort of filled out with wonder as he read the text of the great poem.
At 4 o'clock I went back to my FiL's place to finish off the job of retrieving and bagging all those discarded plastic milk cartons. I say retrieve, because for some reason, they had all been placed behind the small shed in the back yard. I should probably have photographed it really. In the 6" or so space between the shed walls and the dividing walls, hundreds and hundreds of empty cartons had been stuffed in, presumably over a pretty extended period. I counted, in the event 212. It took over an hour to pull them all out of their cranny, using as a hook a battered old 5 iron.
In the evening I settled down to do the re-work on my story "A Killer Holiday", post my first writing lesson with Richard. He sort of liked it a bit, I think; there were several ticks on to indicate his approval. But he felt there was something important missing (oh no!) and of course deep down I had known it all the time but was reluctant to admit it to myself. Now I have, I am re-working it at a rate of knots. I wrote 3085 words in about 3 hours last night and hope to do more tonight.
Please see tomorrow's blog for my March book and film review. You can't afford to miss it!
Yesterday passed in an almost dizzying whirl of activity. In the morning I drove to a nearby town to speak to an old friend about an incident in his younger life. I told him I was going to try and obtain as much information about the incident as possible and then possibly make a short story out of it. He was perfectly happy about this and we chatted for nearly 2 hours; me taking notes in longhand. I hope I will be able to read them afterwards, because I got gold, more than enough to make a passable story I think.
After lunch I bumped into an old friend I normally only see on rare occasions, when he has been able to secure certain precious cargo for us. But on an impulse I invited him round to my house for a couple of hours. The guy is so computer-terrified he has virtually no knowledge of what they do at all. Now believe me, I am not one to try to convert him to the ways of enlightenment. For one thing my own skills are non too sophisticated, reaching about to the lofty heights of being able to change my profile picture on Facebook.
But during the course of the afternoon he asked me how well I knew Kipling's poem "If". Reasonably well was my response, though I wouldn't claim to be capable of reciting it verbatim.
"You know, I'd love to see the full written text somehow"
I assured him, despite his incredulity that it would be childsplay even for me to conjure this out of the ether pronto, which I duly did. I then went over to me printer and blasted him off a hard copy, right there. As I put it in his hands, mere moments after he had been idly speculating about the possibility, it had become fact right before his eyes. His face sort of filled out with wonder as he read the text of the great poem.
At 4 o'clock I went back to my FiL's place to finish off the job of retrieving and bagging all those discarded plastic milk cartons. I say retrieve, because for some reason, they had all been placed behind the small shed in the back yard. I should probably have photographed it really. In the 6" or so space between the shed walls and the dividing walls, hundreds and hundreds of empty cartons had been stuffed in, presumably over a pretty extended period. I counted, in the event 212. It took over an hour to pull them all out of their cranny, using as a hook a battered old 5 iron.
In the evening I settled down to do the re-work on my story "A Killer Holiday", post my first writing lesson with Richard. He sort of liked it a bit, I think; there were several ticks on to indicate his approval. But he felt there was something important missing (oh no!) and of course deep down I had known it all the time but was reluctant to admit it to myself. Now I have, I am re-working it at a rate of knots. I wrote 3085 words in about 3 hours last night and hope to do more tonight.
Please see tomorrow's blog for my March book and film review. You can't afford to miss it!
Saturday, 26 March 2011
pelagius develops OCD?
I reported in January that I had started wandering the streets picking up recyclable materials and placing them in the "green sack" for collection by the council. I had started off by envisaging doing this only once a month, but soon found that there was so much stuff out there, and that the process itself was so satisfying, that I increased my frequency of collections from monthly to weekly, and then even more often. Yesterday, on perhaps the most clement day this year, with the temperature hovering around 20 degrees, I treated myself to 2 collections in 1 day, enabling me to fill a whole green bag to its utmost capacity in the process. Thus an interest has transformed itself almost into a full blown obsession, though the accompanying impeccable green credentials do make it useful as well as harmless.
Unlike a man near my wife's place of work in an adjacent town. Furious at the road past his house being used as a rush hour rat run, he has taken to spitting at cars as they pass and sometimes hurling fruit and vegetables at them. Yesterday he reached new heights of rage, when he placed a miniature wall of bricks across the road. My wife saw it only just in time to avoid some catastrophic tire damage. Now that's what I call an obsession...
SUPPLEMENT
Later in the afternoon we visited the FiL for a coffee. My wife had suggested I might want to collect a little recycling while I was there, so I armed myself with several green sacks and on arrival I stalked through the house to the back yard to inspect. There I found 40-odd Croft Original empties, a great many back numbers of the local rag, but most notably a veritable mountain of discarded 1 litre plastic milk containers. I became fatigued after filling 4 sacks, but I did take all the glass bottles, papers and some of the plastic milk bottles. I left behind more than 100 plastic bottles to be crushed, bagged and removed at a later date.
Unlike a man near my wife's place of work in an adjacent town. Furious at the road past his house being used as a rush hour rat run, he has taken to spitting at cars as they pass and sometimes hurling fruit and vegetables at them. Yesterday he reached new heights of rage, when he placed a miniature wall of bricks across the road. My wife saw it only just in time to avoid some catastrophic tire damage. Now that's what I call an obsession...
SUPPLEMENT
Later in the afternoon we visited the FiL for a coffee. My wife had suggested I might want to collect a little recycling while I was there, so I armed myself with several green sacks and on arrival I stalked through the house to the back yard to inspect. There I found 40-odd Croft Original empties, a great many back numbers of the local rag, but most notably a veritable mountain of discarded 1 litre plastic milk containers. I became fatigued after filling 4 sacks, but I did take all the glass bottles, papers and some of the plastic milk bottles. I left behind more than 100 plastic bottles to be crushed, bagged and removed at a later date.
Tuesday, 22 March 2011
long dark morning of the soul
When my wife left for work this morning at 8 o'clock sharp, I found myself slipping down, down into a depression that persisted into the afternoon.For hour after hour I lay in bed, motionless, eyes closed, but wide awake, mulling over my new situation. I think the enormity of my decision to retire has finally hit home, underlined by my loss of status at work, which leaves me a mere employee, doing someone else's bidding, rather than calling the shots for myself as I have for the last 30 years. I have the resources to say goodbye to them; walk away and never come back, but I know I won't.
No, I shall persevere, pretend to toe the line and go my own way as I always have done. In this way, maybe I can preserve my flagging ego and self esteem. I eventually cheered myself up a little by watching "Carlito's Way" in which Al Pacino as the eponymous hero appears to have far my problems than my own minor issues. Later on, my morale had improved to a point where I could give the lawn its first mow of the year. The minor pysical outlay was a good foil to my earlier indolence.
Speaking of problems, there's the whole Arab world to consider, as one by one the people are rising up and demanding their freedom, despite the obvious dangers they face. We can only hope the power vacuum left after it is all over will not be filled by a series of Sharia regimes. I don't believe it's what the people want, and it certainly isn't in our interests either.
No, I shall persevere, pretend to toe the line and go my own way as I always have done. In this way, maybe I can preserve my flagging ego and self esteem. I eventually cheered myself up a little by watching "Carlito's Way" in which Al Pacino as the eponymous hero appears to have far my problems than my own minor issues. Later on, my morale had improved to a point where I could give the lawn its first mow of the year. The minor pysical outlay was a good foil to my earlier indolence.
Speaking of problems, there's the whole Arab world to consider, as one by one the people are rising up and demanding their freedom, despite the obvious dangers they face. We can only hope the power vacuum left after it is all over will not be filled by a series of Sharia regimes. I don't believe it's what the people want, and it certainly isn't in our interests either.
Saturday, 19 March 2011
postcard from the edge
My wife has a Japanese friend whose family live in Fukushima. Shortly after the quake my wife contacted her to find out if her family were OK, and a couple days later responded in an email of great power and humility. She describes how the ordinary people are managing in the aftermath of the great quake. I paraphrase:
"...As you can imagine, there are tensions as to the extent of radioactive leakage from the plants...they are really reliant though, and keeping calm. Rescue centre, local shops and even the traffic is working smoothly (none of the traffic lights are working) ...Store are selling goods without exchanging money because the whole banking system is down...Instead they they are giving out receipts so that people can pay them back in a few days...I'm certain everybody will pay the money back which is amazing...people learn in a great crisis that supporting the community is more important than money..."
I hope they're still OK. As far as we can tell from here, those nuclear reactors are fucked, and it could get a lot worse very quickly...
Back on "Europe's southern border" as David Cameron kept referring to it yesterday in his remarkable speech to the Scottish Tories. It was a powerful iece of rhetoric that at one level rather impressed me. Another part of me was afraid.
I have to say I was astonished they got the No Fly thing through the UN so quickly. I suppose in the event it was the fact that the Arab League was firmly behind the idea that it coasted through.. At least I hope that's the reason. Because if by any chance DC was not being totally honest with us yesterday, and that are dark plans afoot for an occupation of another sovereign nation that just happens to be floating on a lake of oil the size of the Black Sea, it could light the fuse for an Arab vs the West World War III.
I offer a little prayer to the Great Spirit:
Great Spirit, come close to the Earth and listen to what we have to say. Let the Japanese use their infinite cleverness to fix the problems in those stricken reactors.
And guide the aim of the pilots of the warplanes above Libya. Let them find their strictly military targets, may they never harm an innocent civilian.
And stem the greed of the foreigners; give them wisdom and compassion in their dealings with the infidel.
This we ask of you, great Spirit
Amen
Put another way, you know the expression, "In a World of shit"? Because right now, I think we can safely say the whole world IS in a World of shit...
"...As you can imagine, there are tensions as to the extent of radioactive leakage from the plants...they are really reliant though, and keeping calm. Rescue centre, local shops and even the traffic is working smoothly (none of the traffic lights are working) ...Store are selling goods without exchanging money because the whole banking system is down...Instead they they are giving out receipts so that people can pay them back in a few days...I'm certain everybody will pay the money back which is amazing...people learn in a great crisis that supporting the community is more important than money..."
I hope they're still OK. As far as we can tell from here, those nuclear reactors are fucked, and it could get a lot worse very quickly...
Back on "Europe's southern border" as David Cameron kept referring to it yesterday in his remarkable speech to the Scottish Tories. It was a powerful iece of rhetoric that at one level rather impressed me. Another part of me was afraid.
I have to say I was astonished they got the No Fly thing through the UN so quickly. I suppose in the event it was the fact that the Arab League was firmly behind the idea that it coasted through.. At least I hope that's the reason. Because if by any chance DC was not being totally honest with us yesterday, and that are dark plans afoot for an occupation of another sovereign nation that just happens to be floating on a lake of oil the size of the Black Sea, it could light the fuse for an Arab vs the West World War III.
I offer a little prayer to the Great Spirit:
Great Spirit, come close to the Earth and listen to what we have to say. Let the Japanese use their infinite cleverness to fix the problems in those stricken reactors.
And guide the aim of the pilots of the warplanes above Libya. Let them find their strictly military targets, may they never harm an innocent civilian.
And stem the greed of the foreigners; give them wisdom and compassion in their dealings with the infidel.
This we ask of you, great Spirit
Amen
Put another way, you know the expression, "In a World of shit"? Because right now, I think we can safely say the whole world IS in a World of shit...
Tuesday, 15 March 2011
in 2011, somebody died
When I arrived at work yesterday, I was sat down by our practice manager and told about the events of last Friday. A patient died on the premises, right in the middle of afternoon surgery. Worse, it was a man of only 40. This is the first time this has occurred in over 30 years of general practice. Apparently he came in without an appointment complaining of chest pain, but then his condition deteriorated whilst waiting to see the doctor. It gets worse.
Then, announcing that he suddenly had to move his bowels, he staggered to the downstairs toilet where he locked himself in. Agonised screams were subsequently heard emanating fromn the cubicle. They had to shoulder the door down, and found him dying on the floor, caked in faeces. This is not infrequently an agonal (ie pre-death) phenomenon, though it had to be ignored while the doctor and nurse struggled to revive him. But the trace on the de-fibrillator showed asystole, or zero heart activity, so there was no point in shocking him to re-start the heart; indeed, the machine is set to prevent any shock being given if this type of trace is picked up.
3 days later, the desperate events were still casting a shadow over all the staff and they can now talk of little else. The doctor at the time wisely closed the surgery afterwards, to the approval of all but one of the patients waiting. He plaintively cried:
"I need to be seen today! After all, I've got chest pains too (he didn't) and I could die"
He was ignored and sent on his way.
We do not yet know the cause of death: it could indeed have been an MI (Myocardial Infarction, or heart attack if you will), though pulmonary embolism or dissection of the aorta (where the major artery of the body simply unzips itself, leading to rapid exsanguination) are also possibilities. But we can be sure of one thing: there will be an inquest, with all present being required to attend. And me? The first thing I thought when I was being told the dreadful story: Thank God it didn't happen on my watch...
Then, announcing that he suddenly had to move his bowels, he staggered to the downstairs toilet where he locked himself in. Agonised screams were subsequently heard emanating fromn the cubicle. They had to shoulder the door down, and found him dying on the floor, caked in faeces. This is not infrequently an agonal (ie pre-death) phenomenon, though it had to be ignored while the doctor and nurse struggled to revive him. But the trace on the de-fibrillator showed asystole, or zero heart activity, so there was no point in shocking him to re-start the heart; indeed, the machine is set to prevent any shock being given if this type of trace is picked up.
3 days later, the desperate events were still casting a shadow over all the staff and they can now talk of little else. The doctor at the time wisely closed the surgery afterwards, to the approval of all but one of the patients waiting. He plaintively cried:
"I need to be seen today! After all, I've got chest pains too (he didn't) and I could die"
He was ignored and sent on his way.
We do not yet know the cause of death: it could indeed have been an MI (Myocardial Infarction, or heart attack if you will), though pulmonary embolism or dissection of the aorta (where the major artery of the body simply unzips itself, leading to rapid exsanguination) are also possibilities. But we can be sure of one thing: there will be an inquest, with all present being required to attend. And me? The first thing I thought when I was being told the dreadful story: Thank God it didn't happen on my watch...
Saturday, 12 March 2011
disaster in Japan = good news for Gaddafi
COMMENT
Ever since news of the earthquake and accompanying tsunami in Japan emerged yesterday morning, the rolling news channels have shown us what they are ideally suited for by devoting blanket coverage to the increasingly horrific events. Thousands have died, but far fewer than in Haiti's disaster of last year. This is hardly surprising: Japan is one of the world's wealthiest economies, and many of its buildings have been "earthquake-proofed", especially since the Kobe quake of 1995. Haiti is one of the world's poorest countries, and most people's houses (if indeed they had one) were made of cardboard.
But now, unheeded by most of the world, this wall to wall coverage has left Gaddafi an open field in which to take back the rapidly diminishing Rebel held areas of Libya. And despite the mass murder that will inevitably result from this crackdown; certainly now everyone has realised how unrealistic the idea of imposing a no-fly zone would be in practice, Gaddafi will be allowed to re-assert his total control over the hapless population of that country. Only Al Jazeera has continued to devote any more than the most cursory coverage to the uprisings in the Arab world, which now include protests in Yemen, and even, incredibly (given the absolute repression that obtains in that country), Saudi Arabia.
We have seen all this before. In May of 1982, when the world's attention was focused on the Falklands War, Israel launched their invasion of southern Lebanon. Once there, they openly colluded with the Lebanese Falangists when they descended on the refugee camps at Chatilla and Sabra and massacred thousands of innocent men, women and children. It took years for the true extent of the horror, presided over by Ariel Sharon, to come to light...
Ever since news of the earthquake and accompanying tsunami in Japan emerged yesterday morning, the rolling news channels have shown us what they are ideally suited for by devoting blanket coverage to the increasingly horrific events. Thousands have died, but far fewer than in Haiti's disaster of last year. This is hardly surprising: Japan is one of the world's wealthiest economies, and many of its buildings have been "earthquake-proofed", especially since the Kobe quake of 1995. Haiti is one of the world's poorest countries, and most people's houses (if indeed they had one) were made of cardboard.
But now, unheeded by most of the world, this wall to wall coverage has left Gaddafi an open field in which to take back the rapidly diminishing Rebel held areas of Libya. And despite the mass murder that will inevitably result from this crackdown; certainly now everyone has realised how unrealistic the idea of imposing a no-fly zone would be in practice, Gaddafi will be allowed to re-assert his total control over the hapless population of that country. Only Al Jazeera has continued to devote any more than the most cursory coverage to the uprisings in the Arab world, which now include protests in Yemen, and even, incredibly (given the absolute repression that obtains in that country), Saudi Arabia.
We have seen all this before. In May of 1982, when the world's attention was focused on the Falklands War, Israel launched their invasion of southern Lebanon. Once there, they openly colluded with the Lebanese Falangists when they descended on the refugee camps at Chatilla and Sabra and massacred thousands of innocent men, women and children. It took years for the true extent of the horror, presided over by Ariel Sharon, to come to light...
Tuesday, 8 March 2011
the pictures they tried to ban
Yesterday I travelled by train to London to visit the houses of Parliament. I travelled first class, as it happens, for the first time in my life. Well. you've got to spend your money somehow...
I have to say it was a most satisfying experience. The carriage was almost deserted on both outward and return journeys, so for once the "quiet carriage" concept actually worked. For the most part the loudest noise was the quiet click-clack of a couple of people typing on their laptops, while a lady with a drinks trolley plied us with coffee and snacks every few minutes. Very civilised.
I have been fascinated by the idea of seeing the "wonders of Parliament" since childhood, but it isn't as easy as visiting, say, its next door neighbour, Westminster Abbey. However, as my anarchic tendencies developed, my misgivings about entering the heart of government grew along with them. But my desire to see Westminster Hall remained undimmed. One of the largest wood-built rooms in the world even today, when it was built by William Rufus early in the 12th century it must have seemed an incredible structure. Improved and enlarged by Richard II 200 hundred years later and barely touched since then, it has led something of a charmed life, even avoiding the Luftwaffe bombs that tore through the roof of the adjacent House of Commons and completely flattening it.
Even today, it has lost little of its unique atmosphere. The great hall where Thomas More and King Charles I were convicted of treason and sentenced to death, where throughout the centuries London's wheeler-dealers met to shmooze and fix, it is still there, still buzzing with activity and business. A truly wonderful experience for me, far excelling the lesser delights of the Houses of Lords and Commons, with their high-kitsch, neo-Gothic adornment. I got some photos, despite invoking the ire of the Sergeant-at-Arms, who fortunately did not demand I hand over my SD card. Phew!
I have to say it was a most satisfying experience. The carriage was almost deserted on both outward and return journeys, so for once the "quiet carriage" concept actually worked. For the most part the loudest noise was the quiet click-clack of a couple of people typing on their laptops, while a lady with a drinks trolley plied us with coffee and snacks every few minutes. Very civilised.
I have been fascinated by the idea of seeing the "wonders of Parliament" since childhood, but it isn't as easy as visiting, say, its next door neighbour, Westminster Abbey. However, as my anarchic tendencies developed, my misgivings about entering the heart of government grew along with them. But my desire to see Westminster Hall remained undimmed. One of the largest wood-built rooms in the world even today, when it was built by William Rufus early in the 12th century it must have seemed an incredible structure. Improved and enlarged by Richard II 200 hundred years later and barely touched since then, it has led something of a charmed life, even avoiding the Luftwaffe bombs that tore through the roof of the adjacent House of Commons and completely flattening it.
Even today, it has lost little of its unique atmosphere. The great hall where Thomas More and King Charles I were convicted of treason and sentenced to death, where throughout the centuries London's wheeler-dealers met to shmooze and fix, it is still there, still buzzing with activity and business. A truly wonderful experience for me, far excelling the lesser delights of the Houses of Lords and Commons, with their high-kitsch, neo-Gothic adornment. I got some photos, despite invoking the ire of the Sergeant-at-Arms, who fortunately did not demand I hand over my SD card. Phew!
Saturday, 5 March 2011
I give away books my way
On return home from Malta on Wednesday, we found much of the region enveloped in a huge area of high pressure. My barograph has read 30.6-7" since then. But while these conditions often come with cloudy skies, we have enjoyed several periods of bright, if cool sunshine.
My most vivid memories of Malta remain:
1) the amazing Hypogeum, aptly named as its wonders are buried a full 9 metres below street level: a wonderfully pristine neolithic work of funeral art, discovered some 70 years ago almost in the heart of Valletta.
More than 5000 years ago men dug out these extraordinary chambers from the living rock, with their elegant curves and pathways carved into the limestone bedrock. All this with only flint tools to work with. It retains its potent sombre atmosphere even after this enormous interval of time.
2) My other prominent memory is of seeing a vast queue of migrant workers, hundred and hundreds of them, waiting to board a 747 bound for Dubai and away from a country in terrifying turmoil. I thought the men, they were all men, looked Philippino, but my wife spotted that several of them were holding Thai passports. These things are hard to determine. But I did ask one where he was from, and he confirmed that most of them were escaping the oil wells in the central Libyan desert. I can't say I blame them...
Tonight I played my own miniscule part in "World Book Night", giving out a total of 36 books (my titles: "Beloved", by Toni Morrison and "Dissolution", by C. J. Sanson)
But naughty me! Our local book-crossing whiz, namely Cassiopaea, wanted everyone to make the recipients fully aware of all the book-crossing data at the back of the book and be sure they understood how to log on to the website to enable the book to be "tracked". But I felt differently. I didn't want to get into this earwigging session with everyone; if they're the motivated type they'll come to that and do it if they wish. My job, as I saw it, was to get the books out there. I have a slightly nagging feeling anyway about the whole "give away a million books in a night" thing that is "World Book Night". The fact is it is being sponsored by a consortium of publishers whose underlying motivation is not exactly mysterious. However, it gets a lot of free books out for people to enjoy, and that is a good thing. I just hope I didn't upset Cassiopaea too much: she's a very precious being.
TELEVISION REVIEW:
THE PROMISE (2010) W-D- Peter Kosminsky. With Clair Foy as Erin
Last Wednesday we caught up with the last episode of Channel $'s brilliant mini-series. It is a tale told in 2 time zones: present day Israel and the occupied territories, and likewise, but in 1948, at a time when the British were being driven out of Palestine by an increasingly powerful and aggressive Jewish militia. A young woman travels there from Britain to find out the truth about what happened to her father 60 years before when he was a sergeant in the British Army. With very high production values, very strong acting and some first class writing, one becomes totally involved with Erin's voyage into the dark, infinitely complex clash of ideolgies into which she plunges herself as she searches out the truth.
Excellent television: a class act all the way.
My most vivid memories of Malta remain:
1) the amazing Hypogeum, aptly named as its wonders are buried a full 9 metres below street level: a wonderfully pristine neolithic work of funeral art, discovered some 70 years ago almost in the heart of Valletta.
More than 5000 years ago men dug out these extraordinary chambers from the living rock, with their elegant curves and pathways carved into the limestone bedrock. All this with only flint tools to work with. It retains its potent sombre atmosphere even after this enormous interval of time.
2) My other prominent memory is of seeing a vast queue of migrant workers, hundred and hundreds of them, waiting to board a 747 bound for Dubai and away from a country in terrifying turmoil. I thought the men, they were all men, looked Philippino, but my wife spotted that several of them were holding Thai passports. These things are hard to determine. But I did ask one where he was from, and he confirmed that most of them were escaping the oil wells in the central Libyan desert. I can't say I blame them...
Tonight I played my own miniscule part in "World Book Night", giving out a total of 36 books (my titles: "Beloved", by Toni Morrison and "Dissolution", by C. J. Sanson)
But naughty me! Our local book-crossing whiz, namely Cassiopaea, wanted everyone to make the recipients fully aware of all the book-crossing data at the back of the book and be sure they understood how to log on to the website to enable the book to be "tracked". But I felt differently. I didn't want to get into this earwigging session with everyone; if they're the motivated type they'll come to that and do it if they wish. My job, as I saw it, was to get the books out there. I have a slightly nagging feeling anyway about the whole "give away a million books in a night" thing that is "World Book Night". The fact is it is being sponsored by a consortium of publishers whose underlying motivation is not exactly mysterious. However, it gets a lot of free books out for people to enjoy, and that is a good thing. I just hope I didn't upset Cassiopaea too much: she's a very precious being.
TELEVISION REVIEW:
THE PROMISE (2010) W-D- Peter Kosminsky. With Clair Foy as Erin
Last Wednesday we caught up with the last episode of Channel $'s brilliant mini-series. It is a tale told in 2 time zones: present day Israel and the occupied territories, and likewise, but in 1948, at a time when the British were being driven out of Palestine by an increasingly powerful and aggressive Jewish militia. A young woman travels there from Britain to find out the truth about what happened to her father 60 years before when he was a sergeant in the British Army. With very high production values, very strong acting and some first class writing, one becomes totally involved with Erin's voyage into the dark, infinitely complex clash of ideolgies into which she plunges herself as she searches out the truth.
Excellent television: a class act all the way.
Thursday, 3 March 2011
February book and film review
Please see this coming Saturday's blog for some reflections on our trip to Malta. For now, welcome to my regular monthly book and film review.
BOOKS
WONDER WOMAN: LOVE AND MURDER (graphic novel), by Jodie Picoult. Wonder woman comes of age in this updated version of the superheroine, complete with self doubt, complicated love life and a less than simple relationship with her mum. I don't usually do graphic novels, but this was fun and quite thought provoking.
THE LAST TESTAMENT, by Sam Bourne (Jonathan Friedland) A rip-roaring page turner from the well known broadcaster and journo, turned highly successful novelist. Set in the turmoil of the Holy Land, where an ancient clay tablet looted from the Baghdad museum purporting to be Abraham's will, threatens to blow the region apart. Well readable.
THE RADETSKY MARCH, by Joseph Roth. The Gotterdammerung of the Habsburg Empire as the great War approaches, told through the story of 3 generations of one military family. An unbelievably beautiful, deeply moving piece of writing. Perhaps one of the outstanding novels of the early 20th century. Highly recommended.
THE LOST SYMBOL, by Dan Brown. Robert Langdon's latest outing finds him in Washington DC, where, in a now familiar format, the plot proceeds at a dizzying pace as he searches for the key that unlocks the "secret of the ages". Sure, it's pure hocum, but there is some fascinating discourse on the nature of religious thought. If you like Dan's style, you'll love this.
THE MAN ON THE BALCONY (Martin Beck #3), by Sjowell and Wahloo. Now these two have really hit their stride with the 3rd book in their series of 10 stories about a 1960s Stockholm detective. The plot of the last book seemed overly convoluted to my mind, but here the style and narrative has tightened into a first rate thriller.
FILMS
MR NICE (2010), D-Bernard Rose. I've seen Howard Marks in the flesh and heard him speak, so I can confirm Rhys Ifan's portrayal is astonishingly authentic. Pity then, considering how good the book on which the film is based is, that they couldn't have made more of their material. Ultimately disappointing.
HOT FUZZ (2007) D-Edgar Wright. Simon Pegg and Nick Frost are brilliant in this hysterically funny take on the "guilty town" theme. I laughed so hard I nearly gave myself an asthma attack!
THE DIARY OF ANNE FRANK (1959) D-George Stevens. Sensitive and intelligent adaptation of the famous diary. They wanted Audrey Hepburn for the part, but she'd lived in Amsterdam during the war and it was a bit too close to home for her (besides which, she was 30 at the time, a bit of an ask then, to portray a 14 year-old) But her "replacement" does an excellent job and enjoys strong support from her fellow cast members, especially Shelley Winters, who won the Oscar for best supporting actress.
THE RIVER'S EDGE (1958) D-Alan Dwan. Ray Milland is surprisingly convincing as the psychopath who enlists the support of a reluctant Anthony Quinn and his new wife, (and Milland's former squeeze)Debra Paget, to escape across the border into Mexico following a botched robbery. Quite watchable.
ROAD TO PERDITION (2002) D- Sam Mendes. Highly stylised and atmospheric period piece, with Tom Hanks strong as the gangster who falls foul of his boss, an ageing but still menacing Paul Newman. Even Jude Law is quite believable as the hired assassin. Superior film making.
WILL PENNY (1967) D-Tom Gries. In the late 60s there was a brief vogue for stylish, "realistic" westerns (Jeremiah Johnson, True Grit, The Wild Bunch) into which this fits well. Charlton Heston fills the screen like an army under canvass. Say what you will about his political views: as a screen presence he is a giant.
CLASH OF THE TITANS (2010) D-Louis Leterrier. Here was a great opportunity to do that most unusual thing: a remake better than the original. Despite a great cast, the 1981 film was slow, wordy and so dull that sitting through it was like wading through treacle. Unfortunately however, except for demonstrating how far special effects have moved on in 30 years (the re-creation of the winged horse Pegasus is astonishing, for example), this film suffers from all the same faults as its predecessor: wooden, too long and just awful.
SPECIAL NOTE
I have today finally completed the edit of the 371 blogs I have posted since January of last year. I feel terrible about the huge number of typos I have discovered, and subjected my faithful readers to, but I can now report that I have (hopefully) removed 99% of them, leaving a new, or re-reader, a much more satisfying reading experience. Now read on!
BOOKS
WONDER WOMAN: LOVE AND MURDER (graphic novel), by Jodie Picoult. Wonder woman comes of age in this updated version of the superheroine, complete with self doubt, complicated love life and a less than simple relationship with her mum. I don't usually do graphic novels, but this was fun and quite thought provoking.
THE LAST TESTAMENT, by Sam Bourne (Jonathan Friedland) A rip-roaring page turner from the well known broadcaster and journo, turned highly successful novelist. Set in the turmoil of the Holy Land, where an ancient clay tablet looted from the Baghdad museum purporting to be Abraham's will, threatens to blow the region apart. Well readable.
THE RADETSKY MARCH, by Joseph Roth. The Gotterdammerung of the Habsburg Empire as the great War approaches, told through the story of 3 generations of one military family. An unbelievably beautiful, deeply moving piece of writing. Perhaps one of the outstanding novels of the early 20th century. Highly recommended.
THE LOST SYMBOL, by Dan Brown. Robert Langdon's latest outing finds him in Washington DC, where, in a now familiar format, the plot proceeds at a dizzying pace as he searches for the key that unlocks the "secret of the ages". Sure, it's pure hocum, but there is some fascinating discourse on the nature of religious thought. If you like Dan's style, you'll love this.
THE MAN ON THE BALCONY (Martin Beck #3), by Sjowell and Wahloo. Now these two have really hit their stride with the 3rd book in their series of 10 stories about a 1960s Stockholm detective. The plot of the last book seemed overly convoluted to my mind, but here the style and narrative has tightened into a first rate thriller.
FILMS
MR NICE (2010), D-Bernard Rose. I've seen Howard Marks in the flesh and heard him speak, so I can confirm Rhys Ifan's portrayal is astonishingly authentic. Pity then, considering how good the book on which the film is based is, that they couldn't have made more of their material. Ultimately disappointing.
HOT FUZZ (2007) D-Edgar Wright. Simon Pegg and Nick Frost are brilliant in this hysterically funny take on the "guilty town" theme. I laughed so hard I nearly gave myself an asthma attack!
THE DIARY OF ANNE FRANK (1959) D-George Stevens. Sensitive and intelligent adaptation of the famous diary. They wanted Audrey Hepburn for the part, but she'd lived in Amsterdam during the war and it was a bit too close to home for her (besides which, she was 30 at the time, a bit of an ask then, to portray a 14 year-old) But her "replacement" does an excellent job and enjoys strong support from her fellow cast members, especially Shelley Winters, who won the Oscar for best supporting actress.
THE RIVER'S EDGE (1958) D-Alan Dwan. Ray Milland is surprisingly convincing as the psychopath who enlists the support of a reluctant Anthony Quinn and his new wife, (and Milland's former squeeze)Debra Paget, to escape across the border into Mexico following a botched robbery. Quite watchable.
ROAD TO PERDITION (2002) D- Sam Mendes. Highly stylised and atmospheric period piece, with Tom Hanks strong as the gangster who falls foul of his boss, an ageing but still menacing Paul Newman. Even Jude Law is quite believable as the hired assassin. Superior film making.
WILL PENNY (1967) D-Tom Gries. In the late 60s there was a brief vogue for stylish, "realistic" westerns (Jeremiah Johnson, True Grit, The Wild Bunch) into which this fits well. Charlton Heston fills the screen like an army under canvass. Say what you will about his political views: as a screen presence he is a giant.
CLASH OF THE TITANS (2010) D-Louis Leterrier. Here was a great opportunity to do that most unusual thing: a remake better than the original. Despite a great cast, the 1981 film was slow, wordy and so dull that sitting through it was like wading through treacle. Unfortunately however, except for demonstrating how far special effects have moved on in 30 years (the re-creation of the winged horse Pegasus is astonishing, for example), this film suffers from all the same faults as its predecessor: wooden, too long and just awful.
SPECIAL NOTE
I have today finally completed the edit of the 371 blogs I have posted since January of last year. I feel terrible about the huge number of typos I have discovered, and subjected my faithful readers to, but I can now report that I have (hopefully) removed 99% of them, leaving a new, or re-reader, a much more satisfying reading experience. Now read on!
Tuesday, 1 March 2011
med lite
Our last night on the island of Malta. I think I can say we have delved fairly deeply into its mysteries: from the fantastic megalithic monuments which have made it one of the most important sites for ancient remains in the entire world, through cities enclosed by great limestone bastions and curtains dating from the Arab conquests of the 9th century, to the Crusader fortresses of the knights of Malta, and on to the docklands, destroyed by the Luftwaffe in World War 2 and so beautifully reconstructed in the traditional style by a perhaps slightly guilty British administration, in the years before Malta finally shrugged off its imperial masters in 1965.
But the British legacy remains: from the road signs, red pillar boxes and phone kiosks and traffic lights with their oh so English red-and-amber sequence, to the total penetration of the English language (over 90% are fluent), this is a very easy place for a Brit to visit. And despite some grey skies and brief periods of rain and high winds, this has been an extremely satisfying visit- I strongly recommend it- though I don't think I'd fancy it in September, when it is known for its intense heat and high humidity- phew! (I'd take some of that right now, though)
But the British legacy remains: from the road signs, red pillar boxes and phone kiosks and traffic lights with their oh so English red-and-amber sequence, to the total penetration of the English language (over 90% are fluent), this is a very easy place for a Brit to visit. And despite some grey skies and brief periods of rain and high winds, this has been an extremely satisfying visit- I strongly recommend it- though I don't think I'd fancy it in September, when it is known for its intense heat and high humidity- phew! (I'd take some of that right now, though)
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