STAN AND OLLIE (2018) D- David S Baird
It is the early 50s, and the greatest comedy duo of all time are approaching the twilight of their careers. But they still have ex-wives and lots of other expenses to keep up, and they can’t really retire, even if they might like to. Someone then has the bright idea of a personal appearance tour of Britain, where they are still much loved. Or are they? Because for the first shows there is only the barest handful of people prepared to buy tickets. Was all this a terrible mistake?
This film is a minor classic. With a superb John C Reilly as Ollie, and an equally brilliant Steve Coogan (I didn't think of Alan Partidge even once) as Stan, and both having the benefit of a brilliant script by Jeff Pope to work with, we are guaranteed a subtle and moving experience one rarely experiences in the modern cinema. Superior movie making.
THE FAVOURITE (2108) D- Yorgos Lanthimos
At the turn of the 18th century, good Queen Anne (Olivia Coleman) is being manipulated by the scheming Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, whose husband, the first Duke of Marlborough, having won the Battle of Blenheim, is as good as being the second most powerful person in England. She has been appointed Mistress of the Queen’s Wardrobe, making her the third most powerful. Then some miserable peasant upstart (Emma Stone) comes along and threatens to spoil everything.
What follows is an extraordinary power struggle for the ear of the queen, which some have likened to the plot of All About Eve.
The producers poured a lot of money into making this film look completely authentic, but they stopped short of doing the same thing with the dialogue. At one point someone says “No pressure” which is something absolutely no one would have said in those days, as is the expression “OK” which didn’t appear until at least 150 years later. I’m sure I heard someone use the word “paranoid” as well - same problem. Why so careless with the dialogue, when you spent millions on making the costumes, carriages and sets look perfect?
Slightly disappointing.
Thursday, 31 January 2019
January 2018 film review part 1
PHANTOM THREAD (2107) D- P.T. Anderson
An eminent British dress designer’s ordered life is thrown into disarray when he falls for a working class seamstress. And she, realising what a brilliant catch she has made, will do anything, and I mean anything, to hold onto him.
Daniel Day-Lewis has said this is to be his final film, which if true represents a great loss to the cinema. Ever since My beautiful Laundre he has been turning in faultless performances which dazzle the mind and spirit of anyone watching. Let’s hope he changes his mind, because I yearn to see him attach his enormous talent to another project. And, as in the past, I’m prepared to wait. Daniel often put several years between one film and the next, waiting until he found the ideal role. Perhaps there’s a lesson here for those actors who’ll take anything they’re offered, as long as the price is right (fill in name here)
THE OLD MAN AND THE GUN (2018) W/D- David Lowery
An aging bank robber (Robert Redford) develops a rep as the ‘polite bank robber’ because he is always nice to the tellers he threatens, and never shoots anyone. He’s hard to catch, and even when he is, has an irritating knack of busting out. Then, between heists he meets an equally aging beauty (Sissy Spacek) and kind of falls in love. But the cops chasing him don’t care how nice he is, or whether he has found love in the late autumn of his life. They just want to take him down. And once they’ve got him behind bars, keep him there.
Like Daniel Day-Lewis, Redford has hinted that this will be his last movie, and once again I say shame. Surely one of the most beautiful men to have come out of Hollywood since WW2 and with a talent to match, Redford’s is a face that will be sorely missed on the silver screen. His founding of the Sundance Film festival, though, should help keep his memory, and influence, alive for years to come...
An eminent British dress designer’s ordered life is thrown into disarray when he falls for a working class seamstress. And she, realising what a brilliant catch she has made, will do anything, and I mean anything, to hold onto him.
Daniel Day-Lewis has said this is to be his final film, which if true represents a great loss to the cinema. Ever since My beautiful Laundre he has been turning in faultless performances which dazzle the mind and spirit of anyone watching. Let’s hope he changes his mind, because I yearn to see him attach his enormous talent to another project. And, as in the past, I’m prepared to wait. Daniel often put several years between one film and the next, waiting until he found the ideal role. Perhaps there’s a lesson here for those actors who’ll take anything they’re offered, as long as the price is right (fill in name here)
THE OLD MAN AND THE GUN (2018) W/D- David Lowery
An aging bank robber (Robert Redford) develops a rep as the ‘polite bank robber’ because he is always nice to the tellers he threatens, and never shoots anyone. He’s hard to catch, and even when he is, has an irritating knack of busting out. Then, between heists he meets an equally aging beauty (Sissy Spacek) and kind of falls in love. But the cops chasing him don’t care how nice he is, or whether he has found love in the late autumn of his life. They just want to take him down. And once they’ve got him behind bars, keep him there.
Like Daniel Day-Lewis, Redford has hinted that this will be his last movie, and once again I say shame. Surely one of the most beautiful men to have come out of Hollywood since WW2 and with a talent to match, Redford’s is a face that will be sorely missed on the silver screen. His founding of the Sundance Film festival, though, should help keep his memory, and influence, alive for years to come...
January 2019 book review
NICHOLAS NICKLEBY, by Charles Dickens
Upon the unexpected death of his father, a well brought-up young man finds himself penniless and needing to find his own way in the world. His beginnings are not auspicious. Advised by his miserly uncle to become a teacher at a school in Yorkshire, he quickly realises he has a monster for a boss. For the headmaster, one Wackford Squeers, esq, is the one of the most evil and sadistic characters Dickens ever created. And he didn’t have to try too hard, because Squeers is based on a real schoolmaster, William Shaw, who allowed three boys in his care to die of malnutrition back in the 1830s.
Dickens was just warming to his task when he wrote this, his third novel, and signs of his coming greatness are already apparent. Although some have criticised the lack of development of its female characters, there can be no argument about the men, who are all powerfully drawn, from Nicholas himself, with his epic struggles to make something of himself, through Squeers and his no less evil family, to Smyke, the young lad Nicholas befriends at “Dotheboy’s School” (geddit?) who has been literally enslaved by Squeers. Eminently readable.
ATLAS: A WORLD OF MAPS FROM THE BRITISH LIBRARY, curated by Tom Harper.
I like a good map, me. Therefore it is scarcely surprising that I was thoroughly engrossed in this collection of a hundred or so maps in the possession of the British Library, from medieval world maps drawn in the eleven hundreds to a wonderfully sarcastic imaginary map of artistic achievement created by Grayson Perry just a few years ago.
Tom Harper has chosen his maps well, offering the map freak a wide variety of different charts to study. There’s a map drawn by Admniral Nelson himself, depicting the battle of Trafalgar. There are route maps to guide the pilgrim to Rome or Santiago Compostella. There are extraordinary “3D” maps from China, and of course several examples of ‘Mappa Mundi’ from before the renaissance - not that that stops them being extraordinarily accurate in many details. If you like a map, you’ll love this.
MAP ADDICT, by Mike Parker.
Mike Parker, it may be fairly said, is one of those people who likes a map. All maps, but Ordnance Survey maps in particular. For this book is a history of the OS, from its beginnings in the late 18th century when it was felt the country needed good maps of the south of England should there be an invasion by old Boney, to the present, where detailed and beautiful maps are available of every corner of the UK.
But it is also the story of Mike himself, who, when but a kid was so obsessed by the idea of collecting all 204 in the series of 1 in 50,000 OS maps, but without the funds to afford them, would journey into his local WH Smith’s every weekend and half-inch one or two of them. True story.
I found I had a lot in common with Mr Parker; indeed, I would greatly enjoy the chance to have dinner with him, when we could discuss our shared obsession. Like, for instance, the fact that one of his favourite atlases is the Reader’s Digest Atlas of the British Isles, and has been since it was brought out in the 1960s. Same here. I still have my, admittedly rather dog-eared copy to this day.
This is not an outstanding work of literature, but it is a fascinating journey through the world of maps generally and the OS in particular. I for one got a great deal of pleasure from it. How about dinner, Mike?
MAPPA MUNDI: HEREFORD’S CURIOUS MAP, by Sarah Arrowsmith
OK, I’ll admit it, this is map month. And having read the books already described, I thought I should take another look at one of the most famous maps in the world, having not seen it for over 40 years. Housed in Hereford Cathedral (They were strapped for cash back in the 80s and were nearly on the point of selling it until Paul Getty slung ‘em a cool million to keep it where it was), and drawn in the late 13th century, it offers a unique window into the hearts and minds of medieval Man.
Like all ancient maps, this one is circular (don’t make the mistake of thinking that means they thought the Earth was flat. Educated people didn’t) and centred, as most are, on Jerusalem. Britain can be found, out on the fringes of the map (made from a single piece of vellum and still in remarkably good shape), while over on the other side is India with the little pearl of Ceylon just below it. And in between the locations can be found numerous illustrations of imaginary beats, including unicorns, basilisks and the Bonnocon, a beast capable of deflecting poisonous shit over an area of 3 acres. How do we know this? Because the picture is accompanied by a text in Anglo-French, the lingua Franca of the day.
Lavishly illustrated, this is definitely one of the better ‘guide books’ to be found in any given gift shop. Strongly recommended, as is the visit to the great Cathedral that houses this remarkable treasure.
Upon the unexpected death of his father, a well brought-up young man finds himself penniless and needing to find his own way in the world. His beginnings are not auspicious. Advised by his miserly uncle to become a teacher at a school in Yorkshire, he quickly realises he has a monster for a boss. For the headmaster, one Wackford Squeers, esq, is the one of the most evil and sadistic characters Dickens ever created. And he didn’t have to try too hard, because Squeers is based on a real schoolmaster, William Shaw, who allowed three boys in his care to die of malnutrition back in the 1830s.
Dickens was just warming to his task when he wrote this, his third novel, and signs of his coming greatness are already apparent. Although some have criticised the lack of development of its female characters, there can be no argument about the men, who are all powerfully drawn, from Nicholas himself, with his epic struggles to make something of himself, through Squeers and his no less evil family, to Smyke, the young lad Nicholas befriends at “Dotheboy’s School” (geddit?) who has been literally enslaved by Squeers. Eminently readable.
ATLAS: A WORLD OF MAPS FROM THE BRITISH LIBRARY, curated by Tom Harper.
I like a good map, me. Therefore it is scarcely surprising that I was thoroughly engrossed in this collection of a hundred or so maps in the possession of the British Library, from medieval world maps drawn in the eleven hundreds to a wonderfully sarcastic imaginary map of artistic achievement created by Grayson Perry just a few years ago.
Tom Harper has chosen his maps well, offering the map freak a wide variety of different charts to study. There’s a map drawn by Admniral Nelson himself, depicting the battle of Trafalgar. There are route maps to guide the pilgrim to Rome or Santiago Compostella. There are extraordinary “3D” maps from China, and of course several examples of ‘Mappa Mundi’ from before the renaissance - not that that stops them being extraordinarily accurate in many details. If you like a map, you’ll love this.
MAP ADDICT, by Mike Parker.
Mike Parker, it may be fairly said, is one of those people who likes a map. All maps, but Ordnance Survey maps in particular. For this book is a history of the OS, from its beginnings in the late 18th century when it was felt the country needed good maps of the south of England should there be an invasion by old Boney, to the present, where detailed and beautiful maps are available of every corner of the UK.
But it is also the story of Mike himself, who, when but a kid was so obsessed by the idea of collecting all 204 in the series of 1 in 50,000 OS maps, but without the funds to afford them, would journey into his local WH Smith’s every weekend and half-inch one or two of them. True story.
I found I had a lot in common with Mr Parker; indeed, I would greatly enjoy the chance to have dinner with him, when we could discuss our shared obsession. Like, for instance, the fact that one of his favourite atlases is the Reader’s Digest Atlas of the British Isles, and has been since it was brought out in the 1960s. Same here. I still have my, admittedly rather dog-eared copy to this day.
This is not an outstanding work of literature, but it is a fascinating journey through the world of maps generally and the OS in particular. I for one got a great deal of pleasure from it. How about dinner, Mike?
MAPPA MUNDI: HEREFORD’S CURIOUS MAP, by Sarah Arrowsmith
OK, I’ll admit it, this is map month. And having read the books already described, I thought I should take another look at one of the most famous maps in the world, having not seen it for over 40 years. Housed in Hereford Cathedral (They were strapped for cash back in the 80s and were nearly on the point of selling it until Paul Getty slung ‘em a cool million to keep it where it was), and drawn in the late 13th century, it offers a unique window into the hearts and minds of medieval Man.
Like all ancient maps, this one is circular (don’t make the mistake of thinking that means they thought the Earth was flat. Educated people didn’t) and centred, as most are, on Jerusalem. Britain can be found, out on the fringes of the map (made from a single piece of vellum and still in remarkably good shape), while over on the other side is India with the little pearl of Ceylon just below it. And in between the locations can be found numerous illustrations of imaginary beats, including unicorns, basilisks and the Bonnocon, a beast capable of deflecting poisonous shit over an area of 3 acres. How do we know this? Because the picture is accompanied by a text in Anglo-French, the lingua Franca of the day.
Lavishly illustrated, this is definitely one of the better ‘guide books’ to be found in any given gift shop. Strongly recommended, as is the visit to the great Cathedral that houses this remarkable treasure.
Wednesday, 23 January 2019
Above the law?
I was reading my National Trust magazine yesterday which ran an article about the preservation of the site at Runnymede where the Magna Carta was signed. That document, the article stated, enshrined into law the maxim that even the king was not above the law. 800 years on, however, that no longer appears to be the case.
When Prince Philip came out of a junction over the weekend and T-boned another car, causing one of the occupants to break their wrist, he committed an act which I would have thought constituted careless driving. After all, causing injury to another driver through an act of carelessness, should, I would have thought, be an offence. The police say they have “spoken” to HRH. What did they say? “Perhaps his Highness should be a little more careful in future”? In other words, the sort of thing my father used to say to me when I dropped a cup on the floor. Did they say they were reporting him to the DVLA to have them insist he takes a specially monitored driving test? They did that to my Mum when she started to show signs of dementia. She failed the test miserably, and her licence was taken away. That test isn’t easy. It lasts over 2 hours, and constitutes both written and practical components, the latter involving driving on a variety of different roads, from country lanes to motorways. Would Phil the Greek passs such a test? We don’t know, and we’re not going to find out. The police ain’t gonna do Jack, that much we do know.
He never wears his seatbelt either, apparently, and neither does his wife. I wonder how all the thousands of drivers who get fined every year for not wearing theirs feel about that? Why does the sovereign and her consort get a free pass on such a thing? It’s been known for over 40 years that wearing the damn things saves lives, which is why the public are duly encouraged to use them by punishing them if they don’t.
More lowly members of the royal family have been done for speeding and other driving offences in the past. The queen and her husband, however, appear to be above the law. Mind you, I wouldn’t like to be the cop who found him or herself pulling them over and issuing them a ticket. But they should. Remember the Magna Carta, people.
When Prince Philip came out of a junction over the weekend and T-boned another car, causing one of the occupants to break their wrist, he committed an act which I would have thought constituted careless driving. After all, causing injury to another driver through an act of carelessness, should, I would have thought, be an offence. The police say they have “spoken” to HRH. What did they say? “Perhaps his Highness should be a little more careful in future”? In other words, the sort of thing my father used to say to me when I dropped a cup on the floor. Did they say they were reporting him to the DVLA to have them insist he takes a specially monitored driving test? They did that to my Mum when she started to show signs of dementia. She failed the test miserably, and her licence was taken away. That test isn’t easy. It lasts over 2 hours, and constitutes both written and practical components, the latter involving driving on a variety of different roads, from country lanes to motorways. Would Phil the Greek passs such a test? We don’t know, and we’re not going to find out. The police ain’t gonna do Jack, that much we do know.
He never wears his seatbelt either, apparently, and neither does his wife. I wonder how all the thousands of drivers who get fined every year for not wearing theirs feel about that? Why does the sovereign and her consort get a free pass on such a thing? It’s been known for over 40 years that wearing the damn things saves lives, which is why the public are duly encouraged to use them by punishing them if they don’t.
More lowly members of the royal family have been done for speeding and other driving offences in the past. The queen and her husband, however, appear to be above the law. Mind you, I wouldn’t like to be the cop who found him or herself pulling them over and issuing them a ticket. But they should. Remember the Magna Carta, people.
Tuesday, 22 January 2019
How to make a billion: get into gambling
Not by gambling of course. Hardly anybody makes money from gambling, except the bookies. Ask Denise Coates, founder of Bet 365, who gave herself a paycheck of a cool 265 million quid in 2017. Online betting is extremely profitable for her and her cohort, who make billions and billions each year, their profits accruing as often as not from people at the lower end of the pay scale who can’t afford to lose.
Gambling addiction is a pernicious disease which is actively encouraged by the online betting firms, who, at the same time as urging us to “gamble responsibly” and “when the fun stops, stop”, continue to portray gambling as a glamourous activity, as indulged in by James Bond-like figures who, presumably, never lose.
Shame on you Ray Winston, for taking the shilling (more like tens of millions of shillings, I would imagine) from Bet 365 and encouraging us to part with our hard-earned pay! I used to rate you. Not any more. Shame on a government which is in such thrall to the big gambling concerns they have delayed and delayed the reduction in the amount and frequency you can lose money on those awful FOB (Fixed Odds Betting) terminals. Several MPs are in the pay of the gambling mega-companies, and form a highly effective lobby to keep the executive on their side.
The high street may be in crisis, but not as far as betting shops are concerned. They are popping up in increasing numbers all over the country, usually in the lower-income areas of our cities and towns. Here’s another thing. No less than 9 Premiership clubs are sponsored by betting companies, and loads more in the Championship. They sponsor most of the big snooker tournaments too. Now I remember when cigarette companies used to sponsor sport big time. Then it was decided that wasn’t a good idea, for the most obvious of reasons. Pelagius says that allowing the big betting firms to sponsor sporting events is equally unacceptable. Let’s put an end to it. Now!
Gambling addiction is a pernicious disease which is actively encouraged by the online betting firms, who, at the same time as urging us to “gamble responsibly” and “when the fun stops, stop”, continue to portray gambling as a glamourous activity, as indulged in by James Bond-like figures who, presumably, never lose.
Shame on you Ray Winston, for taking the shilling (more like tens of millions of shillings, I would imagine) from Bet 365 and encouraging us to part with our hard-earned pay! I used to rate you. Not any more. Shame on a government which is in such thrall to the big gambling concerns they have delayed and delayed the reduction in the amount and frequency you can lose money on those awful FOB (Fixed Odds Betting) terminals. Several MPs are in the pay of the gambling mega-companies, and form a highly effective lobby to keep the executive on their side.
The high street may be in crisis, but not as far as betting shops are concerned. They are popping up in increasing numbers all over the country, usually in the lower-income areas of our cities and towns. Here’s another thing. No less than 9 Premiership clubs are sponsored by betting companies, and loads more in the Championship. They sponsor most of the big snooker tournaments too. Now I remember when cigarette companies used to sponsor sport big time. Then it was decided that wasn’t a good idea, for the most obvious of reasons. Pelagius says that allowing the big betting firms to sponsor sporting events is equally unacceptable. Let’s put an end to it. Now!
Monday, 31 December 2018
December 2018 film review
THE BALLAD OF BUSTER SCRUGGS (2018) P/D- The Coen Brothers
Netflix presents their production of this collection of 6 ‘penny-dreadful’ type stories from the American West, all told in the Coen brother’s distinctive style, and a very engaging whole it is too.
This film was financed and distributed by Netflix, which to me says a lot about the way the motion pictures industry is going. More and more mainstream film makers are going to go down this road, because this is where the money is. Last year the BBC’s annual budget was about 6 billion pounds. Netlix’s Budget was 12 billion. See what I mean? Someone was trying to persuade me to buy Netflix shares in 2014. I declined their advice, as I don’t speculate in shares. On this occasion I wish I had. They’re worth more than 3 times their 2014 price today...
WONDER WHEEL (2018) D- Woody Allen
In 1950s Coney Island, an aging fairground worker and his family are placed in turmoil when a young woman seeks their help. For she is on the run from a failed marriage to a mob boss, and he would like to reclaim his lost property...
Woody Allen once said of sex: “When it’s good it’s very good, and when it’s bad, it’s still pretty good.” The same can be said of Allen’s movies. When they’re good, like Crimes and Misdemeanors, Broadway Danny Rose or Hannah and her Sisters they aspire to being some of the greatest offerings of post war American cinema. And when they’re not so good, like this film, they’re still worth watching. All the performances, from Kate Winslett to Justin Timberlake, are spot on, and as always Allen’s observation is acute.
Small point: this film was made with Amazon money. No longer do we see the names of Rollins and Joffe in the producer’s credits of a Woody Allen film. And hence, once again, we see how cinema is changing. Netflix and Amazon are now calling the shots, and just when Disney thought it had the entertainment business by the throat. Must be annoying for them...
ROMA (2018) W/D- Alphonso Cuaron
A well-to-do family in Mexico City is torn apart when hubby leaves for a conference, then doesn’t come home again. Despite being paid virtually nothing, the maid stays on to ensure at least a vestige of continuity for the children and their embattled mother. But the maid has her own problems. She falls pregnant to a ne’er-do-well who has no interest in taking responsibility for his actions...
Shot in crisp black-and-white, with a beautiful, languorous cinematography that allows the action to unfold before a remarkably static camera, this film is a revelation. Everything about it is noble, from the stately unwinding of the plot, to the stunning acting of all the players; this, along with The Happy Prince, is definitely the best of the 92 new films I have seen this year.
BIRD BOX (2018) D- Susanne Bier
A strange plague has afflicted the world: if you even look at, something (what, we’re not completely sure), you immediately become suicidal. Except those who are already insane, who then try to force all the others to look at...it. Only solution: keep your eyes wide shut or cover them with blindfolds. This, it has to be said, makes life a little difficult, but, what the hey, Sandra Bullock manages it for several years, hell, she even manages to steer a boat down a river for days at a time without being able to see a thing. Exciting or what?
Actually, only for so long. This film is over 2 hours long yet would have been better at 70 minutes. They used to make films that long, but of course that wouldn’t hack it with today’s audiences. Or so we are led to believe. After a very brief theatrical run, this was acquired by Netflix (yeah, them again), and I have it on good authority it was streamed by no less than 45 million people over the Christmas period alone. You can see why DVD sales and ‘live’cinema are in trouble right now, and why I should have bought those Netflix shares 4 years ago...
Happy new year film watch
In 1950s Coney Island, an aging fairground worker and his family are placed in turmoil when a young woman seeks their help. For she is on the run from a failed marriage to a mob boss, and he would like to reclaim his lost property...
Woody Allen once said of sex: “When it’s good it’s very good, and when it’s bad, it’s still pretty good.” The same can be said of Allen’s movies. When they’re good, like Crimes and Misdemeanors, Broadway Danny Rose or Hannah and her Sisters they aspire to being some of the greatest offerings of post war American cinema. And when they’re not so good, like this film, they’re still worth watching. All the performances, from Kate Winslett to Justin Timberlake, are spot on, and as always Allen’s observation is acute.
Small point: this film was made with Amazon money. No longer do we see the names of Rollins and Joffe in the producer’s credits of a Woody Allen film. And hence, once again, we see how cinema is changing. Netflix and Amazon are now calling the shots, and just when Disney thought it had the entertainment business by the throat. Must be annoying for them...
ROMA (2018) W/D- Alphonso Cuaron
A well-to-do family in Mexico City is torn apart when hubby leaves for a conference, then doesn’t come home again. Despite being paid virtually nothing, the maid stays on to ensure at least a vestige of continuity for the children and their embattled mother. But the maid has her own problems. She falls pregnant to a ne’er-do-well who has no interest in taking responsibility for his actions...
Shot in crisp black-and-white, with a beautiful, languorous cinematography that allows the action to unfold before a remarkably static camera, this film is a revelation. Everything about it is noble, from the stately unwinding of the plot, to the stunning acting of all the players; this, along with The Happy Prince, is definitely the best of the 92 new films I have seen this year.
BIRD BOX (2018) D- Susanne Bier
A strange plague has afflicted the world: if you even look at, something (what, we’re not completely sure), you immediately become suicidal. Except those who are already insane, who then try to force all the others to look at...it. Only solution: keep your eyes wide shut or cover them with blindfolds. This, it has to be said, makes life a little difficult, but, what the hey, Sandra Bullock manages it for several years, hell, she even manages to steer a boat down a river for days at a time without being able to see a thing. Exciting or what?
Actually, only for so long. This film is over 2 hours long yet would have been better at 70 minutes. They used to make films that long, but of course that wouldn’t hack it with today’s audiences. Or so we are led to believe. After a very brief theatrical run, this was acquired by Netflix (yeah, them again), and I have it on good authority it was streamed by no less than 45 million people over the Christmas period alone. You can see why DVD sales and ‘live’cinema are in trouble right now, and why I should have bought those Netflix shares 4 years ago...
Happy new year film watch
December 2018 book review part 2
THE EMPEROR OF ALL MALADIES, by Siddhartha Mukhergee
Subtitled ‘A Biography of Cancer’, this Pulitzer-Prize winning book is indeed a rundown of cancer, from its earliest apprehension by Hippocrates and other physicians of antiquity, to the most modern genetic therapies for that most terrible of plagues on mankind.
Now, as a doctor, I consider myself something of an expert in this field, as do all doctors, even if they are not oncologists (cancer specialists), because cancer is just about the commonest life-threatening disease we encounter. But cancer, as Dr Mukhergee is quick to remind us, is not a single disease, but hundreds of very different types, so the question “Can we find a cure for cancer?” Is the same as saying “Can we find 500 different cures for cancer?” Having said that, there are certain things that are common to them all: they are groups of cells that cannot stop dividing, and are, worryingly, immortal. Recent work in genetics has worked out why this is the case. Cancer cells have genes in them which do one of 2 things: either they ‘press on the gas’, accelerating the growth of cell division, or they ‘cut the brake cables’, inhibiting the usual mechanisms that limit cell growth. In either case, the results are the same: uncontrolled growth. Also cancer cells possess a gene which inactivates processes which make cells age and die - conferring immortality on them. All this is bad for us, their hosts.
The bulk of this book is about humanity’s (or at least America’s, for this is above all a book about America) attempts to combat this awful disease, and, it turns out, the future does indeed lie in genetic modification treatments, which is good for us, because the predecessors, anti-cancer drugs and radiation therapy, inflict so much damage on healthy cells it was often a case of ‘the cancer was cured, but the patient died’.
AUSTERLITZ, by W.G. Sebald
An academic runs into a rather interesting man at a railway station and they chat. Later, entirely by coincidence they meet again and their conversation continues as if it had never been interrupted. Then they decide to meet again intentionally, and slowly the story of Austerlitz is revealed. Turns out he was part of the “Kinder Transport” scheme in 1939 and found himself living with a nonconformist priest and his wife in, of all places, Bala in North Wales. But he is not told of his origins until much later, when he makes the decision to find out what he can of his lost parents and the life he left behind at the age of four.
Like all Sebald’s books, the text is littered with blurry photographs which augment the often strange but always beautiful text. (Interestingly, Edmund de Waal opted to use the same device in his book - see previous blog) And as is usual with Sebald, what emerges is a book of great depth and subtlety, but which remains disarmingly easy to read - this despite the entire book being composed of only 6 paragraphs in its 300-odd pages, and, even more amazingly, often composed of 4, 5 and 600 word sentences; indeed one is nearly 4000 words long, and covers 16 pages of text! This may be a record, I’m not sure. I certainly haven’t seen anything like it outside Ulysses.
In summary, may I say this: everyone should read Sebald, and I mean everyone. Start, like me, with The Rings of Saturn, go on to The Emigrants, then Vertigo, and round it off with Austerlitz. You won’t regret it for a second, I guarantee it.
Subtitled ‘A Biography of Cancer’, this Pulitzer-Prize winning book is indeed a rundown of cancer, from its earliest apprehension by Hippocrates and other physicians of antiquity, to the most modern genetic therapies for that most terrible of plagues on mankind.
Now, as a doctor, I consider myself something of an expert in this field, as do all doctors, even if they are not oncologists (cancer specialists), because cancer is just about the commonest life-threatening disease we encounter. But cancer, as Dr Mukhergee is quick to remind us, is not a single disease, but hundreds of very different types, so the question “Can we find a cure for cancer?” Is the same as saying “Can we find 500 different cures for cancer?” Having said that, there are certain things that are common to them all: they are groups of cells that cannot stop dividing, and are, worryingly, immortal. Recent work in genetics has worked out why this is the case. Cancer cells have genes in them which do one of 2 things: either they ‘press on the gas’, accelerating the growth of cell division, or they ‘cut the brake cables’, inhibiting the usual mechanisms that limit cell growth. In either case, the results are the same: uncontrolled growth. Also cancer cells possess a gene which inactivates processes which make cells age and die - conferring immortality on them. All this is bad for us, their hosts.
The bulk of this book is about humanity’s (or at least America’s, for this is above all a book about America) attempts to combat this awful disease, and, it turns out, the future does indeed lie in genetic modification treatments, which is good for us, because the predecessors, anti-cancer drugs and radiation therapy, inflict so much damage on healthy cells it was often a case of ‘the cancer was cured, but the patient died’.
AUSTERLITZ, by W.G. Sebald
An academic runs into a rather interesting man at a railway station and they chat. Later, entirely by coincidence they meet again and their conversation continues as if it had never been interrupted. Then they decide to meet again intentionally, and slowly the story of Austerlitz is revealed. Turns out he was part of the “Kinder Transport” scheme in 1939 and found himself living with a nonconformist priest and his wife in, of all places, Bala in North Wales. But he is not told of his origins until much later, when he makes the decision to find out what he can of his lost parents and the life he left behind at the age of four.
Like all Sebald’s books, the text is littered with blurry photographs which augment the often strange but always beautiful text. (Interestingly, Edmund de Waal opted to use the same device in his book - see previous blog) And as is usual with Sebald, what emerges is a book of great depth and subtlety, but which remains disarmingly easy to read - this despite the entire book being composed of only 6 paragraphs in its 300-odd pages, and, even more amazingly, often composed of 4, 5 and 600 word sentences; indeed one is nearly 4000 words long, and covers 16 pages of text! This may be a record, I’m not sure. I certainly haven’t seen anything like it outside Ulysses.
In summary, may I say this: everyone should read Sebald, and I mean everyone. Start, like me, with The Rings of Saturn, go on to The Emigrants, then Vertigo, and round it off with Austerlitz. You won’t regret it for a second, I guarantee it.
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