John Donne: 1572--March 31, 1631

John Donne's birth date, aside from the year, is unknown, so I thought that I would post this on the anniversary of his death. If more people would follow his philosophy, I think the world would be a more peaceful place.


No man is an iland, intire of it selfe;
Every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine;
If a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse,
As well as if a Promontorie were,
As well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were;
Any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde;
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
- Donne -
Devotions upon Emergent Occasion
Meditation XVII

Greg Benford: Across the Sea of Suns, Galactic Center Book II

Nigel Walmsley is back--just as obstreperous and cranky as before, and still a pain in the bureaucratic backside. This is a bit surprising because Nigel is getting up there in years now. The first book in the series, In the Ocean of Night, covered the period between 1999 and 2019. In 1999, Nigel was an experienced astronaut, which suggests that he was at least in his late 20s, if not older. Across the Sea of Suns begins in 2056 and ends in 2064. Even if Nigel had been in his twenties in 1999, he must now be getting close to 90. The only difference is that he's getting a bit creaky and can't handle physical chores now. But, his brain is still as good, and he's one of the few around who can go beyond the narrow limits of the various sciences and get an overall view.

And, that's his problem now. His overall view doesn't coincide with the official view. He sees a connection between the three encounters with aliens in the previous novel and the observations they are now making of a planet circling a star some 8.1 light years from Earth. Rather than remain silent, he keeps pushing and finagling and just generally irritating the wrong people. Back on Earth, that wouldn't have been a problem; he could just go on vacation or take a leave of absence and stay out of sight until all was forgotten or the bureaucrats he had angered had moved on. But, he's not on Earth now, and he can't drop out of sight.

A decade or so ago, transmissions were received from that unnamed star that appeared to be English words, but just English words transmitted at random. Several probes were sent, but little was learned except that the radio signals appeared to be coming from a small planet circling that star. The major powers on Earth, therefore, decided to send people and confiscated a colony ship that was under construction. Based on information gained from the three alien encounters, Earth decided to build its own asteroid ship, the Lancer. It was this ship that was hastily converted into a research vessel and sent to the star.

And aboard were Nigel and Nikki, a woman he had met while working on the alien ship that had crashed on the moon, thousands of years ago. Nikki, in fact, was the one who had found the ship when its still active automatic defense system shot her down as she came within range of its sensors.

The first part of the book details the discovery of the source of the signals, a alien race that is one of the strangest I've ever encountered in over 50 years of reading SF. This race survives on a planet on which it seems impossible for life to have evolved in the first place. And, around the planet orbits a satellite, apparently doing nothing. Nigel argues that life evolved first, and then the planet was attacked and reduced to its present state. And, he also insists that the satellite is there, at least, to observe the planet, a Watcher.

After leaving that system, the Lancer visits several other systems and finds Watchers around other planets that also appear to have been attacked, and also around other planets on which life had yet to appear, if ever.

Meanwhile, Earth is facing its own problems. Aliens have suddenly appeared in the oceans and have completely disrupted shipping and travel. (Reminds me of the John Wyndham novel, Out of the Deeps, aka The Kraken Awakes). Benford provides a second plot which focuses on Warren, a survivor of an attack by the aliens on his ship. He shares some characteristics with Nigel, namely that bad things happen and the best course is to deal with it, and forget about recriminations and finger pointing. And, most ominously, a Watcher has appeared in orbit around Earth.

Human leaders on Earth and in Space are prone to make mistakes, especially when they don't listen to the right advisers. The novel ends with a full scale nuclear war on Earth and the surviving crew of the Lancer on board a Watcher. Nigel, however, has managed to survive, so there's hope yet for the human race.

The novel includes some interesting speculations on life in a restricted area, with a limited population. In addition, Nigel repeats his adventure of the menage-a- trois in the first novel which featured Nigel, Alexandria, and Shirley, with a new adventure featuring Nigel, Nikki, and Carlotta. It may be the human version of the three-body problem (which I hear about frequently in SF but don't really understand, to be honest) in which there are two suns, Nigel and Alexandria or Nigel and Nikki, and a planet, Shirley or Carlotta, that must orbit both of them. Ultimately both Shirley and Carlotta decide that their primary purpose is to protect Alexandria and Nikki from the uncaring and insensitive Nigel, even though this insensitivity has yet to be noticed by either Alexandria or Nikki.

Overall Rating: Great science stuff and good human interest material here. Benford has incorporated enough new ideas for 10 books. I'm looking forward to the third book in the series,
Great Sky River.

Robert Frost: March 26, 1874--January 29, 1963

THE TUFT OF FLOWERS
I WENT to turn the grass once after one
Who mowed it in the dew before the sun.
The dew was gone that made his blade so keen
Before I came to view the leveled scene.
I looked for him behind an isle of trees;	5
I listened for his whetstone on the breeze.
But he had gone his way, the grass all mown,
And I must be, as he had been,—alone,
‘As all must be,’ I said within my heart,
‘Whether they work together or apart.’	10
But as I said it, swift there passed me by
On noiseless wing a ’wildered butterfly,
Seeking with memories grown dim o’er night
Some resting flower of yesterday’s delight.
And once I marked his flight go round and round,	15
As where some flower lay withering on the ground.
And then he flew as far as eye could see,
And then on tremulous wing came back to me.
I thought of questions that have no reply,
And would have turned to toss the grass to dry;	20
But he turned first, and led my eye to look
At a tall tuft of flowers beside a brook,
A leaping tongue of bloom the scythe had spared
Beside a reedy brook the scythe had bared.
I left my place to know them by their name,	25
Finding them butterfly weed when I came.
The mower in the dew had loved them thus,
By leaving them to flourish, not for us,
Nor yet to draw one thought of ours to him.
But from sheer morning gladness at the brim.	30
The butterfly and I had lit upon,
Nevertheless, a message from the dawn,
That made me hear the wakening birds around,
And hear his long scythe whispering to the ground,
And feel a spirit kindred to my own;	35
So that henceforth I worked no more alone;
But glad with him, I worked as with his aid,
And weary, sought at noon with him the shade;
And dreaming, as it were, held brotherly speech
With one whose thought I had not hoped to reach.	40
‘Men work together,’ I told him from the heart,
‘Whether they work together or apart.’ -- Robert Frost -- from A Boy's Will

Combination Plate 5: CJ Sansom, Steven Saylor, Colin Dexter, TV's Peter Gunn

C. J. Sansom's Revelation
An historical judicial detective tale,
The detective: Matthew Shardlake
Setting: London, during the reign of Henry VIII, immediately prior to his marriage to his sixth wife, Catherine Parr.

This is the fourth book in the series which features Matthew Shardlake, a lawyer, who is hunchbacked. One of the strengths of the book is that it portrays the problems Shardlake faces in a society that is less sensitive than ours, although ours really isn't that sensitive. He is frequently insulted and jeered at by others, some of whom are enemies or at least angered by him, while others are simply passing strangers who see nothing wrong in calling him "crookback."

Sansom does an excellent job of portraying the confusion raging at that time, without appearing to be lecturing the reader. He skillfully includes the issues and controversies of that period and makes them a part of the story. The religious and political conflicts permeate almost every aspect of Shardlake's work, and it's hard to say which would be worse at this time: being accused of treason or being accused of heresy. Both charges are employed to settle old debts or as part of a power struggle. A whisper in the right place about doctrinal differences or a suspicious meeting with the wrong person could lead quickly to a visit to the Tower, torture, a show trial, and a summary execution.

In the midst of this turmoil, a friend of Shardlake's has been murdered. But, this isn't just a case of a robbery gone wrong or perhaps a case of revenge (he was a lawyer also), but one that has possibly a political connection involving Catherine Parr, whom Henry is wooing at this point. Moreover, there were possibly some religious issues here also, along with the bizarre manner of his death.

A second and a third murder quickly occur. Shardlake is contacted secretly by a number of powerful figures in Henry's court and asked to get involved, even though he has publicly sworn off any cases involving anything to do with politics or religion. The first three books in the series explains his reluctance to get involved. What puzzles Shardlake and others is the lack of any connection among the victims. It's almost as if they were chosen at random. What makes it even more frightening is that the murders seem to follow a pattern of events specifically outlined in the Book of Revelations. Shardlake and the others disagree as to the person's sanity and some wonder if the killer is possessed by the devil. Today we would nod knowingly and deduce the existence of a serial killer.

Overall Rating: a great work, 5/5.

I would recommend reading them in sequence, even though it's not absolutely necessary. The works in order are Dissolution, Dark Fire, Sovereign, and Revelation.

================================================================

Steven Saylor's The Triumph of Caesar
An historical private professional tale
The detective: Gordianus the Finder
Setting: Rome, 46 BC, at the beginning of the reign of Julius Caesar as Dictator, just after he has consolidated his control by defeating all other claimants

This is the tenth book in the series depicting the cases of Gordianus the Finder, a private investigator whose work takes him frequently among the most powerful figures in Rome. The first novel began with a summons from Sulla the Dictator (82 BC to 79 BC). Each of the subsequent novels moves the reader a few years forward until we reach this novel in 46 BC. the historical background of the period takes the reader through the events that brought about the the dissolution of the Roman Republic and the establishment of Caesar's dictatorship.

Saylor, like Sansom, provides a wealth of details regarding the people, customs, conflicts of the times, but he does it skillfully by making it a part of the story. Too often, writers simply drop in historical details and make me feel I'm getting a lecture. Sansom is too good a writer to do that.

Gordianus insists he is retired, but one does not simply ignore a summons from Calpurnia, wife of Caesar and the most powerful woman in Rome. She is having bad dreams, and her haruspex, one who foretells the future by searching for omens in the entrails of sheep, has diagnosed a threat to Caesar. As Gordianus was in Egypt at that time (see The Judgment of Caesar for details), she hired another investigator. This investigator reported learning something important but was murdered before he could investigate further or even give her any information as to the threat.

Gordianus again insists he's retired, but he changes his mind when he discovers the murdered man was a friend of his, Hieronymus the Scapegoat of Massilia, who had saved his life some years past (for more information, see Last Seen in Massilia). Gordianus doesn't believe in dreams or the ability of sheep's entrails to foretell the future, but his friend was murdered. He will investigate his friend's murder and ignore warnings provided by sheep's entrails.

We follow Gordianus as he tries to decipher Heironymus' notes and retraces his steps, hoping to learn what Heironymus learned that caused his death. As he does so, Gordianus encounters some of the most powerful and significant individuals in Rome at that time: Caesar, Calpurnia, Marc Antony, Brutus, Cicero, and Octavius (Caesar's heir whom we know as Caesar Augustus, the first Roman Emperor).

Heironymus himself gives Gordianus the clue, but neither Gordianus nor I figured it out until the end of the book. Maybe both of us should retire.

Overall Rating: 5/5 again. This is the tenth book in the series, which also includes two collections of short stories. This novel, as do all of the others, stands alone, but I would recommend reading the others to get the full extent of the background and also because they are good reads.


===================================================================
Colin Dexter's Inspector Morse,
The Silent World of Nicholas Quinn, DVD
The detector: Inspector Morse
Police procedural tale
Setting: Oxford, UK, contemporary

While Dexter wrote some thirteen "Inspector Morse" novels, the TV series has televised over 30 episodes, most of which are "based on characters created by Colin Dexter." This production, The Silent World of Nicholas Quinn, is based on the novel of the same name by Dexter. As usual, the TV versions have toned down Morse's character somewhat. He's not as cranky nor does he drink as much in the TV versions as he does in the novels. Sgt. Lewis comes across much as he does in the novels, long-suffering, patient, and occasionally irritated by his short-tempered and patronizing superior officer.

This story is based to some extent on Colin Dexter's own past. Nicholas Quinn is becoming quite deaf. He is employed by a syndicate that monitors the testing for Oxford University. Dexter, like Morse, was at Oxford and became a teacher until his increasing deafness made that impossible. He then took a position as a monitor for examinations, much as did Quinn.

The relationship between Morse and Lewis and Morse's loneliness are recurring themes throughout the series. The novels and the TV dramas are independent, and there's no real reason for being concerned about the chronology, except for the last two novels--Death is Now My Neighbor and The Remorseful Day. Colin Dexter announced that he will end the series and subsequently published The Remorseful Day, in which it is clear the series has ended. He made sure that there would be no Reichenbach Falls possibility in this series.

Overall Rating: an enjoyable read, lighter in scope and complexity than the works by Sansom and Saylor.

==================================================================
Blake Edward's Peter Gunn,
a TV Series from 1958 to 1961, now on DVD
Private professional
The detective: Peter Gunn
Setting: an unnamed waterfront city, contemporary at that time

This was a 30 minute TV show that had 114 episodes during its life span. As it was only a 30 minute show, the plots had to be relatively simple and easily solvable during that short period. The attractions were the characters and the relationships among them that developed throughout the show, and the theme music, provided by Henry Mancini.

The detective is Peter Gunn, who is the epitome of "cool." He is always laid back and in control, regardless of whose hand held the gun. He is also, as best as I can remember, one of the first of the well-dressed action heroes. In a recent episode, he is looked up and down by a young lady who comments on his very expensive shoes, his $200-300 suit (late 50s, remember), and his gold cigarette lighter (late 50s, remember). There probably are others, but the ones I remember best also started around the same time: Patrick McGooham as secret agent J0hn Drake in UK's Danger Man, also known as Secret Agent in the US (1960-2 and 1964-68), and, of course, the Sultan of Sartorial Splendor, Patrick Macnee as John Steed of The Avengers (1961-69)--the bowler and the brelly will do it every time.

The love interest is provided by Lola Albright who plays the nightclub singer Edie Hart. Hope Emerson does a marvelous job as Mother, the owner of Mother's, a small nightclub where Edie sings, Peter hangs out, and much of the action begins and frequently ends. Hershel Bernardi turns in an excellent performance as the patient and long-suffering Lt. Jacoby, of the local police force. I don't know if he's the first one, but Jacoby apparently has no first name. In fact, in one episode, a charming young lady, obviously on the make, asked him what his first name was. He looked at her for brief period and responded "Lieutenant." Several nights ago, I watched Inspector Morse as he responded to a woman who wanted to know what his first name was. His response? "You can call me Morse." While I finally learned Morse's first name, I still don't know what Lt. Jacoby's is.

Overall rating: nostalgia plays a role here, for me anyway. Historically, Gunn is one of the first of the well-dressed action heroes. And for some great jazz, listen to the theme music by Henry Mancini, which made the Top 40 for a few months, at least.

Kurosawa's _Rashomon_ and Martin Ritt's _The Outrage_

Warning: I have included considerable information about both films, including the endings.

As anyone who has visited Fred's Place might guess, I'm fascinated by Kurosawa's Rashomon, his great film that appeared in 1950. In two previous posts, on October 24, 2008 and December 12, 2008, I traced the ancestry of the film back to 12th century medieval Japan. Well, I finally caught up with its descendant, Martin Ritt's The Outrage, which appeared in 1964. As far as I can tell, this is the only descendant so far. If anyone knows of others, I'd appreciate the information.

Martin Ritt directed this remake of Rashomon. It is quite close to Kurosawa's version, with several significant revisions. One is the setting: The Outrage is moved from medieval Japan to post Civil War southwestern United States, near the mythical town of Silver Gulch. The setting is an abandoned railroad depot, at which trains seldom stop. One reference in the film is made to Tucson, so one might assume either southern Arizona or New Mexico. Silver Gulch is a dying town because the silver mines are played out. In southern New Mexico, one can find Silver City, a town that sprang up because of the silver mines, which are now shut down.

This is in keeping with previous remakes of Kurosawa's films, The Seven Samurai which became The Magnificent Seven, and Yojimbo which was remade as A Fistful of Dollars, with Clint Eastwood, and again as Last Man Standing with Bruce Willis, all of which were set in southwestern US or Mexico.

The samurai and his wife are now a Southern plantation owner and his wife, played by Laurence Harvey and Claire Bloom, who have lost everything in the Civil War and are now looking for some place to start over again. Just what they are doing in a one-horse buggy out in the middle of the Sonoran desert with little or no luggage is beyond me.  The bandit, of course, is now a Mexican bandit, Juan Carrasco, played by old blue eyes himself--Paul Newman. In the Japanese version, the husband's body is discovered by a woodcutter; this becomes a prospector, played by Howard Da Silva.  The Buddhist priest has been transformed, naturally, into a Christian clergyman, and the actor selected for this part is probably best known for his role as the indomitable Captain Kirk of the Starship Enterprise, a very young William Shattner.  The thief becomes a con man, a swindler, a seller of patent medicines which are as likely to kill as the condition they are supposed to cure. Edward G. Robinson was selected for this role.

A second change is that of the role of the shaman. In the Japanese version, the shaman goes into a trance and contacts the spirit of the dead husband, who then can tell his version of the events leading up to his death. This would never be accepted in an US court, so the husband's story was told by a medicine man who came along just as the husband was dying and heard his version.

Ritt also changed the ending. In Akutagawa's short stories, the reader was left with the three opposing stories, indicating that several, if not all, were lying. Kurosawa added a fourth version, that of the woodcutter whose version came closest to the bandit's tale, death in a duel. Ritt then changed Kurosawa's ending, and the prospector's final version also focused on the duel, but the husband tripped while carrying a knife, obviously not holding it point downward, and fell and stabbed himself.

Major problem: in spite of the considerable talents of the cast, I couldn't find them convincing in their roles. I always knew it was Paul Newman and Laurence Harvey and Claire Bloom playing a part. I found Robinson's supposedly hearty and cynical laugh irritating and forced. The cast generally struck me as just walking through their lines. The only one who really came alive was Claire Bloom at the end when she taunts and goads her reluctant husband and the equally reluctant bandit to fight over her.

Overall Comment: Akutagawa took two medieval Japanese tales and a short story by Ambrose Bierce and created two short stories that went beyond the source material. One could see the seeds in his versions, but he added his own insight to the stories. Kurosawa did the same when he melded Akutagawa's short stories into his film. The germs of the originals are there, but again he took the material a step further. Ritt did not do this. His adaptation was a more or less faithful rendering into a western setting in which most of the changes were demanded by the new setting. The most significant change was not necessary and weakened the film--the ending, in which the prospector says the husband was killed by accident. There was no reason for that change.

The Rubaiyat: Quatrain VI

From the first edition of Edward FitzGerald's rendering of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam:

And David's Lips are lock't; but in divine
High piping Pehlevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine!
Red Wine!"--the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That yellow cheek of hers to incarnadine.

This quatrain remains the same for all succeeding editions.

This quatrain carries through the theme that began in Quatrain V, that of the disappearance of past glories while nature remains untouched. "David" refers to King David of the Hebrews, while "pehlevi" suggests either the language of ancient Zoroastrian works or a way writing used during the 3rd through the 6th century AD in Persia, or Iran as it is now known. In any case, it was no longer in use during Omar Khayyam's time, which began in the late 11th century and lasted through to the first quarter of the 12th century. David, having died centuries ago, as have others mentioned in earlier quatrains, can no longer can speak or perhaps sing, since he was known as a singer. This suggests that the glories of Israel are gone, while the garden, as represented by the Nightingale and the Rose, are still present, still singing their ancient songs.

The last line is ambiguous, and scholars have debated the meaning of it, especially whose "sallow cheek" is being referred to--the Nightingale's or the Rose's. Nor is it clear as to the meaning of "cries...That sallow cheek of hers to incarnadine." Perhaps the calling suggests excitement which would give color to that sallow cheek, or possibly the wine might bring a reddish hue to one's sallow cheeks.

I mentioned earlier that this quatrain remained the same for all editions. Frankly, considering the ambiguity of the last two lines, I wish that he had revised this quatrain.

Andreas Eschback's The Carpet Makers

The Carpet Makers is the first novel written by the German author Andreas Eschbach. It just happened to win the SFCD-Literature Prize, or as it is now called The German Science Fiction Award. Eschbach's second novel, Solarstation, won Germany's other prestigious SF award, the Kurd Lasswitz Award. Just to demonstrate that this wasn't a fluke, his third novel, The Jesus Video, won both awards. The film version of his third novel came out in 2002. Unfortunately I am having a problem finding it available. As far as I can find out, The Carpet Makers is the only work of Eschbach's that has been translated into English. I hope this changes soon.

The setting is perhaps 100,000 years in the future. Humans have spread throughout countless planets. This is the story of one planet, politically, culturally, economially, and militarily very insignificant, but it has one strange and remarkable export: hair carpets. The most important people on the planet are the hair-carpet makers. Each carpet maker makes only one carpet during his lifetime. It is made of the hair of his wives and daughters. The carpet maker, however, is allowed only one son; if a second son appears, one must be killed.

The reason for this is simple. By the time the hair-carpet is finished, the maker is old and near death. He gives the carpet to his son who sells it to a hair-carpet trader, when one appears. The son then takes the money and sets up his own household where he will begin making his own hair carpet, usually with the tools and equipment that belonged to his father. He and his family must live on the proceeds from the sale of his father's hair carpet. At the end of his life, when he has finished his hair carpet, he will then give it to his son, and the pattern repeats itself, as it has now for thousands of years.

Hair-carpet traders travel from small town to village, buying up hair carpets and eventually reaching the capital, where he sells the hair carpets to the Imperial trader. All hair carpets are purchased by representatives of the Emperor, who has need of an immense number of these carpets, presumably for his palace.

This has been going on for thousands of years, but now something is wrong. Rumors have sprung up that claim that the Emperor has abdicated. No one knows where these rumors come from, but everybody has heard them. Moreover, one hair carpet trader has kept records for many years and has discovered that the number of traders has diminished and the number of carpets has also dwindled considerably, and there seems no reason for either decrease.

I was confused when I first picked up The Carpet Makers. It's narrative structure is unusual, a bit disconcerting. Each chapter has a different POV character, and there are seventeen chapters. The first chapter features a carpet maker, the second a hair-carpet trader, the third a teacher, the fourth another hair-carpet maker, the fifth an old itinerant peddler woman, and the sixth an off-planet foreigner.

It wasn't until the third or perhaps fourth chapter that I finally realized what Eschbach was doing. The narrative structure is modeled on the structure of the hair carpets themselves. The carpet makers use the strands of hair to create his carpet, and each strand, although short, was intricately interwoven with other strands to create a pattern. Borlon, the carpet maker who appears in Chapter Four, has two wives, one with blond hair and one with black hair and creates the pattern in the carpet with those two colors.

Eschbach does the same with his strands/chapters of various characters. This would result in a very choppy structure, with a jerky narrative flow, except for something that Eschbach does. In each chapter, Eschbach has inserted back references and forward references to other chapters in the work. Moreover, he has included two themes that appear in almost every chapter: one is that of the hair carpets themselves, and the other is the Emperor. This helps to unify the work.

Take for example, Chapter Five--"The Peddler Woman." A peddler woman is referred to in Chapters One, Two, and Four. When she finally appears in Chapter Five, we follow her as she visits the carpet makers Ostvan, who is featured in Chapter One, and Borlon, the carpet maker in Chapter Four. She also meets the foreigner who has been referred to in Chapter Three. This foreigner becomes the POV character in Chapter Six and he refers back to Chapters Three, Four, and Five.

The narrative structure is not composed of a single thread moving forward into the future, but of numerous short threads that tell the story of the hair carpets and the Emperor. We see many people whose lives collide, intertwine, proceed along the same path for a short period of time, and then diverge as they go their own way. I don't think I've ever read another story that is structured quite this way, and I find it intriguing. I wonder if the narratives in his other novels, of which I hear there are now eight, are constructed the same way.

The novel isn't a quick read, but it isn't a very complex work either which one must struggle to get through. It flows naturally from the small village to the large city to off-planet settings to a resolution that I did not in any way expect. This is one of the attractions of the novel: I had no idea where this story was going.

Overall Rating: a quiet story that will reward rereading. I hope The Carpet Makers does well enough to encourage translations of other works by Andreas Eschbach.

The Burmese Harp and Fires on the Plain

Recently I viewed two films that were directed by Ichikawa Kon (1915-2008). I hadn't heard of him prior to watching these films and wasn't even aware that both were directed by him. The two films are Fires on the Plain (1959) and The Burmese Harp (1956). Both are considered anti-war films, and that's why I rented them. I was curious about anti-war films from Japan that emerged shortly after World War II.

The first film I viewed was Fires on the Plain, which appeared three years after The Burmese Harp. The film was based loosely on the novel Nobi, written by Shohei Ooka who was a soldier in the Japanese army and eventually captured by American troops. It is a bleak and horrific story about a group of starving Japanese soldiers who were fleeing the American Army and local guerrilla groups and trying desperately to reach the coast where they could be rescued by the Japanese Navy. Dante could have borrowed several scenes for his depiction of one of the circles of Hell, especially one for those who committed the sin of despair. The landscape seemed littered with bodies in various stages of decay. However, the food shortage became so critical that some of the soldiers turned to cannibalism.

The film is shot in black-and-white which adds to the desolate and gloomy aura of the film. The actors actually went without food for part of the filming in order to produce the appropriate appearance of starving soldiers.

It was at this point that I discovered that the second anti-war film in my queue, The Burmese Harp, was also directed by Ichikawa. I was curious to see what his earlier film was like, so I moved it up and watched it several days later.

The Burmese Harp, while clearly an anti-war film, is much different in depiction and theme. Perhaps this might be because the film was based on what is described as a children's fantasy work, The Harp of Burma, written by Michio Takeyama. In an interview included on the DVD, Ichikawa said that the film is considerably different from the novel, for if he had made the film to closely parallel the book, it would have turned out to be a fantasy for children, and he wanted something that would appeal to adults.

The setting is Burma, just at the end of the war. A Japanese military unit learns that Japan has surrendered. The officer, Captain Inouye, decides to surrender to the Americans (who look British to me) because they would be needed to help rebuild Japan which has been devastated by the bombing. They learn of another Japanese military unit that refuses to surrender and vows to fight until all are dead. One soldier, Mizushima, is asked to go to the unit that refuses to surrender and attempt to persuade them to give up. He goes but fails. All are killed in the attack, and he is wounded and not found by the Americans. He is later found and treated by Burmese living in the area.

Mizushima decides to return to his unit who are in a POW camp, awaiting their return to Japan. On his way back, he discovers large numbers of bodies of Japanese soldiers who have not been buried (a scene which is also frequently repeated in Ichikawa's later film, Fires on the Plain). He ultimately decides that he cannot go back to Japan until the bodies of the dead soldiers have been buried.

Several important themes are present in this film that do not appear in Fires on the Plain. One is music and the other is respect for the dead. Captain Inouye was a music teacher and choral director before the war, and he turns his unit into a very fine choral group, which helps to maintain morale. Mizushima has taught himself to play a local instrument, a harp, and he then becomes the musical core of the unit. The music throughout the film ranges from folk songs to religious choral works, primarily those for burial ceremonies. Two very effective musical scenes are the ones in which the soldiers learn of Japan's defeat and are serenaded by the American? forces, who also seem to be a fine choral unit, with a moving version of "Going Home," and one in which British nurses sing at a burial ceremony for deceased soldiers.

Mizushima's decision to remain in Burma in order to bury the Japanese soldiers is reminiscent of Sophocles' play Antigone, in which a young woman also breaks a law in order to perform burial rites for her brother, who is decreed by Creon to remain without proper rituals and burial. The penalty for breaking the law is death. In a way, Mizushima is risking the same fate for his unit has surrendered, and he is a soldier who is now traveling around Burma dressed as a Buddhist monk.

An even more interesting connection is provided by the dominant religion in Burma, Buddhism. In fact, a monk tells Mizushima that Burma is Buddhism. I'm not very familiar with Buddhism, but if I understand correctly, there are a number of Buddhas, each with various attributes. One that seems particularly significant is the Bodhisattva, or the Compassionate Buddha. The Bodhisattva is one who rejects nirvana and vows not to escape the cycle of birth and death and reincarnation until all creatures have achieved nirvana first. The following is a quote from the Wikipedia entry:

"The various divisions of Buddhism understand the word Bodhisattva in different ways, but especially in Mahayana Buddhism, it mainly refers to a being that compassionately refrains from entering nirvana in order to save others."

Mizushima, in a way, has done something quite similar; he has rejected returning to his home (nirvana is considered the ultimate home of all creatures) until all those who have died have been properly buried.

I find it interesting that the first film Ichikawa directed, The Burmese Harp, has a far more optimistic and even a healing atmosphere, in comparison to the later film, Fires on the Plain, whose look is one of death and despair.

I'm not going to comment on the relationship between the films and the novels as I haven't read either of the novels. Nobi, the source for Fires on the Plain, isn't available now at the library, while The Harp of Burma is now in the process of being purchased by the public library. I have it on reserve, so I may get to read it, sometime soon, perhaps. I am adding Nobi to my search list.

Edmund Crispin The Case of the Gilded Fly

Edmund Crispin The Case of the Gilded Fly
First published in 1944
Type: Talented amateur
The Detective: Professor Gervase Fen, Professor of English Language and Literature, Oxford University

This is the first in a series of nine novels featuring the exploits of Gervase Fen, a sometimes arrogant and overbearing sleuth, at times reminiscent of Sherlock Holmes. In addition, several of his earlier "cases" are referred to. However, unlike Holmes, Fen is noted for dropping obscure Latin and Shakespearean allusions, some of which are even appropriate. He also lacks Holmes' scientific background and a Watson. Like Sayers' Lord Peter Wimsey and Allingham's Campion, Fen has a friend in the local police establishment, but he lacks a butler.

The novel follows the classic format. The characters are introduced, and in this novel, it soon becomes clear who the victim will be. She is universally hated by one and all, so there's no problem in identifying the suspects: they are everyone who comes in contact with her. We then follow Fen about as he questions the suspects and insists to one and all that he knows the murderer, or at least, knows enough about the murderer to be able to solve the case shortly. There are the usual red herrings, and two more deaths occur to muddy the waters a bit. And, at the end, Fen provides the obligatory explanation for his admirers.

One secondary character, and one I hope will appear in later works, is Sir Richard Freeman, Chief Constable of Oxford, who is an interesting companion for Fen. Fen is a professor of literature at Oxford who solves crimes as a hobby, while Freeman is a high-ranking police officer whose avocation is producing works of literary criticism. To date, he has published critical studies of Shakespeare, The Bible, and Chaucer.

Fen and Freeman "would sit for hours expounding fantastic theories about each other's work, and developing a fine scorn for each other's competence, and where detective stories, of which Fen was an avid reader, were concerned, they frequently nearly came to blows, since Fen would insist, maliciously but with some truth, that they were the only form of literature which carried on the true tradition of the English novel, while Sir Richard poured out his fury on the ridiculous problems which they presented and the even more ridiculous methods used in solving them." The relationship between them could provide the "buddy" atmosphere that the butlers and Watsons furnish other detectives.

I enjoyed the work, in spite of a few quibbles. The exact location of the murderer at a crucial moment was not very clear to me. Secondly, while this did not involved a "closed room" scenario, it was close enough to squeeze into that category. Therefore, the explanation of how the murder was committed tended to stretch the boundaries of believability a bit.

Overall Rating: definitely a series which I will explore in the future.

Is it a police procedural or a PI or...?

Several years ago I was scheduled to teach a lit class that focused on mystery works. Unfortunately the class didn't make it, but I did do some preparation for it, before it was cancelled. I developed a scheme for categorizing the varieties of mysteries that are now found on the shelves. But, since many mysteries seem to perch on the boundary lines of two or more categories, this would make for an interesting discussion. I arbitrarily selected the detective's occupation as the most significant element in deciding which category would be appropriate.

I thought I would list them here, along with definitions and examples, if I can come up with any, to see if you think this is useful. This is definitely a "work in progress," so if you have any suggestions, changes, or disagreements, post a comment.

1. Police procedural: any member of a governmental law enforcement agency--Scotland Yard, NYPD, small town police department, sheriff's department.

Examples:
PD James--Chief Inspector Adam Dalgliesh, England, Scotland Yard
Batya Gur--Inspector Michael Ohayon, Israel, Jerusalem CID
Giles Blunt--Detective John Cardinal, Canada, Algonquin Bay police dept.
Michael Connelly--Detective Harry Bosch, US, LAPD police dept.
Karin Fossum--Inspector Konrad Sejer, Norway, police dept.
Numerous others--I think there are now police procedurals from every continent on the planet (except, possibly, Antarctica).




2. Private professional: any investigator who conducts investigations at the request of others for pay. This is the PI, in other words, regardless of what title is used: private investigator, private detective, inquiry agent, shamus, or various others.

Examples:
Arthur Conan Doyle--probably invented this category, Sherlock Holmes, England
Raymond Chandler--Philip Marlowe, US
Dashiell Hammett--Sam Spade, US
Sue Grafton--Kinsey Millhone, US
PD James--Cordelia Gray, England
Alexander McCall Smith--Precious Ramotswe, Botswana
Steven Saylor--Gordianus the Finder, 1st novel at 80 b.c. and latest at 46 b.c., Rome
Sara Paretsky-- V. I. Warshawski, US






3. The Accidental Detective: a private citizen who gets involved in a mystery, frequently a death of a friend or relative. The authorities have written it off as an accident or suicide; however, the accidental detective knows better. The character remains an "accidental detective" if there is no second book; however, as soon as the second adventure appears, the character is now a "talented amateur."

Examples:
PD James--Innocent Blood, England
Steve Berry--The Charlemagne Pursuit
 



4. Talented Amateur: a private citizen who stumbles over bodies and crimes around every corner, regardless of their day job, or lack thereof--any of a plethora of cooks, caterers, knitters, gardeners, dog trainers, swimming pool cleaners, elevator operators, faculty members, mystery writers, pet sitters, members of the aristocracy....

Examples:
Edgar Allan Poe--C. Auguste Dupin, independently wealthy, France
Agatha Christie--Miss Marple, senior citizen, England
Margery Allingham--Albert Campion, unknown, England
Dorothy L. Sayers--Lord Peter Wimsey, aristocracy, England
Edmund Crispin--Gervase Fen, Literature professor, Oxford, England
Ellis Peters--Brother Cadfael, Benedictine monk, England, 12th century.





5. Technical professionals or experts: CSI, crime lab, pathologists, coroners, medical examiners, consultants. . .all of whom spend more time doing police investigations than working in the laboratory as they are being paid to do or perhaps doing their day job .

Examples:Patricia Cornwell, Dr. Kay Scarpetta, US.
Bernard Knight--Sir John de Wolfe, appointee to protect the Crown's interests in various situations, including that of possible criminal activity; his position eventually became what we now call the coroner. 12th century England.




6. Judicial detectives: any of a number of members of the judicial system who spend more time acting like police and almost no time doing the job they are being paid to do: lawyers, judges, defense attorneys, bailiffs, bounty hunters, prosecutors, district attorneys.

Examples:
Erle Stanley Gardner--Perry Mason (who else?), defense attorney, US.
Janet Evanovich--Stephanie Plum, bounty hunter, US
Linda Fairstein--Alexandra Cooper, assistant prosecutor,, US.



The above is subject to revision, naturally. If one or more belong in another category let me know. If I'm missing a category, let me know.

Combination Plate 4: Tolstoy's Anna Karenina, SF by Edgar Pangborn, Christopher Priest's The Inverted World, and JM Gregson's Remains To Be Seen

Got a real mixed bag this time:
--first is a BBC production of Tolstoy's domestic romance tragedy Anna Karenina
--second work is a collection of short SF stories by an unfortunately neglected Edgar Pangborn,
--the third work is an SF novel by Christopher Priest, The Inverted World,
--and last is a mystery novel by J. M. Gregson, Remains To Be Seen.

Anna Karenina, DVD:
This was the ten part BBC production that was first broadcast in 1977. I had read the novel years ago, so while I felt that BBC took no really outrageous liberties with the text, I couldn't tell what changes had been made. I felt the overall flow of the dramatization was close to the Tolstoy's text.

What surprised me the most was the treatment of Karenin. I had seen several other productions over the years, and one of my major complaints had always been that he was treated as a complete monster. I hadn't gotten that feeling from the novel. One of the strengths of Tolstoy's work was his refusal to make angels and demons out of his characters. Even Levin and Kitty have their faults, even though they are the most sympathetically treated characters in the novel.

Karenin is not the unfeeling insensitive creature that the previous adaptions turned him into. While he's not a sensitive 90s guy, he does have strong feelings and can be a very generous person, as several of the characters point out, especially when Anna is involved. Unfortunately, his feelings push him into unfamiliar territory, and he relies on the help of a rigid pietistic meddler. Unfortunately she gains control over him and turns him into a moralizing Christian who stifles his most generous impulses. One can see at the end that he is torn between his own generous feelings and the rigid Christian attitudes imposed on him.

Nicola Pagett played the role of Anna and did a creditable job of it, except for a few scenes during the last part when she demonstrated Anna's growing unhappiness in some situations with a series of absurd face twitches and grimaces. Aside from those, she was quite convincing.

Alexei Vronsky was played by Stuart Wilson, who also did a credible job of convincing me that he had changed from the heartless, selfish, insensitive heartbreaker who played the game once too often and now was trapped in an impossible situation. However, he did not just bow out, as he probably would have if he hadn't changed considerably.

Eric Porter, in the role of Karenin, Anna's husband, was the star of the show, as far as I was concerned. He did a masterful job of portraying a man who has a generous nature that has been entombed within the myriad rules and roles that constrain a man of importance. Under stress it does emerge though, surprising Anna and Vronsky, and I think, him also.

Overall Rating: Very good. It is long, ten episodes, but worth the time spent watching it.

====================================================================

Edgar Pangborn: Good Neighbors and Other Strangers
This is a collection of SF short stories by the author of Davy, A Mirror for Observers, and West of the Sun. The most significant work, and the longest also, in the collection is "Angel's Egg," probably his finest short work.

The theme throughout is the relationship between humans and alien visitors. The first story, "Good neighbors" seems to exemplify Frost's poem, "Mending Wall" and the necessity of walls when livestock is involved. The appropriate line in the poem reads, "'Good fences make good neighbors'." But, since the livestock belongs to alien visitors, the problem goes beyond that of simply grazing in a neighbor's field or trampling a garden.

"Longtooth" is the story of a lovesick Sasquatch or Bigfoot in Maine, who kidnaps a housewife whose her husband subsequently is suspected of murdering her, not without reason, as most townspeople would admit.

"The Posonby Case" is about a police officer who is trying to write a report that won't get him fired or disciplined for drinking on duty. His task is simply to explain why a naked man ended up in the elephant cage at the local zoo.

Ab Thompson, in "Pickup for Olympus," is so entranced by the pickup model that he fails to notice that the driver, who asked him if this was the way to Olympus, has cloven hooves and horns on his head, while the woman in the back of the pickup is lounging around with a full grown leopard and a half dozen "shy little goats."

"Angel's Egg" is one of those rare stories, at least for the 50s when this was written for it tells of aliens who have come here quietly to help us survive. The 'fifties was the most serious and deadly period of the Cold War. A nuclear war seemed almost inevitable at that time. It was his first published science fiction story, and it appeared in Galaxy Magazine in 1951. It immediately established him as a writer with serious potential and his novels, especially Davy and A Mirror For Observers justified that evaluation.

Overall Rating: some very good stories here, and sufficient variety for almost everyone to find a favorite.

====================================================================

Christopher Priest: The Inverted World, an SF novel

Imagine a city, rather long and narrow, that travels on what are railroad tracks. The city travels very slowly and sometimes it doesn't move at all. This gives the Trackmen time enough to pick up the track that the city has just travelled on and rush it to the front of the city and place it down for the city to pass over it again. And that's the most normal part of Priest's world.

Strange things happen to those who walk back where the city/train has come from or go far in advance of it. One's perspective changes or rather the geography changes. A gorge which took weeks for the Trackmen to build a bridge over it now becomes, just days later, a crack in the earth which a person's foot could easily span. Time passes differently if one goes back or goes forward in front of the city/train. A week's trip turns out to be a day or so long, or perhaps several months in duration when one returns.

Who are these people? Where are they? How did they get in this situation? Did all this really come about as an attempt to solve the energy crisis?

Overall Rating: intriguing concept. While his description of the city/train culture/society is brief, the novel is 240+ pages long, it does give one a good overview, even if the day-to-day working is obscure. The main character is sympathetic, and one can easily identify with him as he is as ignorant of the overall situation as the reader. His bewilderment is ours.

Overall Rating: good. Some problems but the story is a grabber as the reader tries to make sense of the situation.

====================================================================

J. M. Gregson: Remains To Be Seen, a mystery novel
Police Procedural: England

Gregson has approximately 35 novels out at this time, most of which belong to two police procedural series. This novel belongs to the "Detective Inspector Peach and Detective Sergeant Lucy Blake" series. He has a second series which features the crimes solved by Superintendent John Lambert and Detective Sergeant Bert Hook.

This is my first exposure to a work by Gregson, and perhaps it may be my last. The plot is fairly standard and characterization is about what one might expect from a writer who has churned out some 35 novels since his first was published in 1989.

The major problem that I have with him is stylistic, his descriptions of his characters. For example, the narrator tells us that his men said about Peach that "You got a fair deal, if you worked for Percy Peach...You didn't get an easy ride, but you didn't expect one. You'd get the occasional fierce bollocking, but only if you didn't stick to Percy's strict rules. If you did, he'd support you, even when things went wrong. His loyalty and affection for his team were never expressed--DCI Peach would have considered that a weakness--but they were unswerving."

We are told later that the police officer assigned to handle the phones, Brendan Murphy, "was both sensitive and patient, the ideal man to deal sympathetically with calls which had to be listened to, but which you knew within ten seconds were going to be a waste of police time. He was also shrewd and intelligent: if the one call in a hundred came through which was vital, he wouldn't miss out on it."

These descriptions of the perfect members of the police are found throughout the work--a more perfect group of people who couldn't find anywhere else.

One more quibble: the solution of the crime came through the hackneyed element of the murderer saying something and the officer recognizing that only the murderer could have known this.

Overall Rating: I might read one more of his works, but in the other series, about police officers Lambert and Hook. If that one exhibits similar characteristics, I shall spend my time more profitably reading elsewhere.

Little Caesar meets The Public Enemy

I recently watched two classic "gangster" films, Little Caesar (LC) and The Public Enemy (TPE). Both appeared in 1931, and both were the breakout films for their respective stars, Edward G. Robinson and James Cagney. Ironically, both struggled with being typecast from that point on. Other stars were Jean Harlow and Joan Blondell in TPE and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. in LC. Jean Harlow seemed out-of-place, but that just may have been her role as a high society type who gets involved with gangsters. Both films were placed by the American Film Institute (AFI) on its top ten gangster film list with TPE at No. 8 and LC in the 9th position.

Both films focus on the development of the main character as he shoots his way to the top, or near to the top of the gang. The two lead characters, Tom Powers (Cagney) and Rico (Robinson), while both see violence as necessary, differ considerably, even though they both end violently.

Rico comes across as tough, mean, and nasty as he snarls his way to the top, growling around his ever present cigar, or holding and jabbing it at a hapless underling who has displeased him. Cagney seems psychotic, almost easy-going and sometimes insolent as he winks and sneers his way through confrontations, but always seemingly on the verge of exploding into violence. Cagney's habit of playfully pulled punches supposedly suggests affection, but they seem to occur at times when Cagney represses a violent reaction, sometimes even with his mother.

Rico (Robinson), at the beginning of LC, is a small time thief who decides to go to the big city where the real action is. He and his friend Joe Massala join a mob. As the film progresses, one can see his growing ambition as he moves on up the criminal corporate ladder. His craving for power eventually drives him to become one of the most powerful gangsters in the city.

TPE, on the other hand, begins with Tom Powers (Cagney) as a young boy, growing up in a lower class urban setting. The film traces his development from shoplifting when only a child to a robbery that goes wrong and ends with a dead police officer. He and his friend Mike join a gang just as Prohibition begins. Bootlegging then becomes extremely lucrative. Powers moves up in the gang hierarchy because he is more violent than the others, but he differs from Rico in that he does not seem to be driven by Rico's craving for power.

Both films, naturally, feature violent endings, as the Biblical injunction demands: "All they that take the sword shall perish by the sword."

After Power's friend is shot down during a struggle between two gangs, he gets two guns and marches into the rival gang's headquarters. In a surprising display of restraint, the film does not depict the gory shootout, with every splatter of blood shown as it would be today, but we only hear a number of shots and a scream. Then, during a driving rainstorm, Cagney staggers outside, obviously badly wounded, takes a few steps, falls into the gutter, and utters what probably is his most famous last line: "I ain't so tough."

Rico, on the other hand, is shot and killed by the police officer who had vowed to bring him down. Rico also uttered the last words of the film as he is shot down in the bitter cold behind a billboard advertising the appearance of his friend Joe and Joe's girlfriend as a dance team: "Mother of Mercy. Is this the end of Rico?"

While both films were considered violent when they appeared in 1931, standards have changed considerably since then, and I doubt that either would get an R rating today.

TPE is also famous for the incident at breakfast, when Powers, irritated by his moll, shoves a grapefruit in her face. There are a number of stories about the origin of that scene, but the one that critics consider most credible and also the one told by Cagney and Mae Clarke (the victim) is that it was conceived by Cagney and Clarke as a practical joke on the film crew. Even though it wasn't in the script, William A. Wellman, the director, at end of filming changed his mind and decided to keep it in.

Overall Reaction: two very good films. I would recommend watching them together.

Greg Benford: In the Ocean of Night, Galactic Center Book I

I've just begun rereading Greg Benford's "Galactic Center" series, which I consider to be one of the best SF series ever written. Unfortunately, I find I'm pretty much alone in this as I've never heard anyone speak of the series or even of one of the books in it.

The first one in the series is In the Ocean of Night, which begins in 1999, with a classic threat to Earth--a threatened encounter with Icarus, an asteroid whose orbit approached Earth's but never posed a threat until it began emitting a plume of gas and dust, thus turning it into a cometary object and gaining considerable interest among solar system astronomers. Not only was it transformed, but its trajectory was affected and put it on a collision course with Earth. Something was going to have to be done about it, and soon.

The novel actually consists of three separate encounters within some twenty years--the abandoned asteroid ship, an AI probe that passes through the solar system gathering information about the system and life forms, and a crashed spaceship on the moon, but these are not three completely separate incidents, for several reasons.

One reason and the most obvious reason is that the Nigel Walmsley is the significant character in all three encounters. Nigel is a rather unique character; for example, he's British, and he somehow convinced NASA to accept him as an astronaut. Moreover, when Icarus' threat is discovered, he somehow ends up being chosen to approach and plant the h-bomb which is expected to destroy it. However, once there, Nigel discovers that the asteroid/comet isn't what it seems to be. It is a small rocky body that has been turned into a spaceship, one that is at least several hundred thousand years old. It is at this point that Nigel, on the scene, and Houston, back on Earth, began to differ about what to do next.

Nigel is always one to make his own decisions, regardless of what Houston Control decides. So, he's frequently on the black list at NASA, but, rather than quit as many would do, he sticks around and slowly and quietly and unobtrusively works his way back into significant positions. So, when the next encounter occurs, he's there on the spot causing more problems for those who disagree with him, but only in a non-confrontational way, if possible (while his former enemies in the bureaucracy have long since moved up and out). What his supervisors find most irritating about Nigel is that he tends to be right, more often than not, or at least more often right than they are.

Nigel's personal life is also intriguing. He's married or at least partnered with Alexandria. Then there's Shirley, who makes up the third of the trio; she's decided that her role in the threesome is to protect Alexandria from Nigel--they make up an interesting menage-a-trois. (Correct my French, if necessary.)

Another subplot involves a religious group, the New Sons. They have gained sufficient political power that they can control or direct scientific research on the basis of their religious beliefs-- obviously a fantasy as such things could not happen here.

Almost forgot another subplot: one of Nigel's friends has a close encounter with several hairy? shaggy? furry? bipeds in Northern California.

The other reason the three incidents are closely related is not so obvious at first because the full importance of the three encounters is not fully realized on Earth until the second book, Across the Sea of Suns, which takes place some three or four decades later. At the end of In the Ocean..., Nigel and some of his friends suspect there's a connection of some sort, but they don't have sufficient information to draw a connection.

This delayed revelation of the threat reminds me of E. E. (Doc) Smith's fabulous Lensmen series in which each novel initially gave the reader a slightly better idea of the threat looming in the background. After the series was initially published, Smith then produced the first novel which provided the necessary background, so subsequent readers all knew from the beginning who the real villains were.

In the Ocean of Night is an independent work, though, and according to the inside cover it is the first in a trilogy, which was probably Benford's thinking at that time. However, we all know what frequently happens to two or three book series. This trilogy turned into a sextet.

It's going to be a great trip.

Combination Plate 3: Thornton Wilder's The Bridge of San Luis Rey, Dickens' A Tale Of Two Cities, and A Matter of Justice by Charles Todd

Thornton Wilder: The Bridge of San Luis Rey, a book discussion group selection. I had always wanted to read this novel but never got around to it. Therefore, when a book group that I belong to selected it, I was pleased. My "one of these days" list is much too long, and this would help shorten it, a bit, anyway.

Wilder doesn't squander any time in getting to the subject. The novel begins "On Friday noon, July the twentieth, 1714, the finest bridge in all Peru broke and precipitated five travellers into the gulf below. This bridge was on the highroad between Lima and Cuzco and hundreds of persons passed over it every day."

One of the witnesses was Brother Juniper who happened to be approaching the bridge as it broke.

"Anyone else would have said to himself with secret joy: 'Within ten minutes myself...!' But it was another thought that visited Brother Juniper: 'Why did this happen to those five?' If there were any plan in the universe at all, if there were any pattern in a human life, surely it could be discovered mysteriously latent in those lives so suddenly cut off. Either we live by accident and die by accident or we live by plan and die by plan. And on that one instant Brother Juniper made the resolve to inquire into the secret lives of those five persons, that moment falling through the air, and to surprise the reason of their taking off."

The remainder of the novel tells of Brother Juniper's efforts to learn about the five victims and to see if any possible reason could be found for their deaths at that moment and place. I think this is one of the perennial problems or questions that have bothered and bewildered humans since they developed the facility for asking questions. Is there a plan or is it chance that dictates our future?

Does Wilder answer the question? I think he does since he is the one who created the lives of the five victims. If you do decide to read it, let me know if you agree that Wilder answered the question and what you think the answer is.

Overall Rating: Recommended.

===================================================================

Charles Dickens: A Tale of Two Cities, a book discussion group selection. I doubt there's any need to briefly bring up the plot as I suspect most are familiar with it, even if they haven't read it. It's one of Dickens' most serious novels as one doesn't find the numerous caricatures of secondary characters that enliven Dickens' novels, or at least enliven the ones I've read.

I have gained the impression over the years that most people read this in high school for the first time. In fact, the only other novel that is mentioned as frequently as being on an high school reading list is Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter. I wonder if that's still true today.

This novel is unique in that it's the only one I know of that has one of the most famous and most often quoted and misquoted beginnings and endings in all of western literature. They are like bookends, as one of the discussion group members said. The novel begins with:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair..."

But, most often, when it is quoted, the ending is left off or ignored, which gives it a slightly different slant:

"...in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."

In other words, it is just like today.


The ending is equally well-known: the narrator tells us that this would have been Sydney Carton's final thought as he awaits the guillotine:

"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."

The one character that stands out the most for me is Madame Defarge. In Greek mythology we find the three fates: Clotho, who spins the thread of life from her distaff onto her spindle; Lachesis, who measures the thread of life allotted to each person; and Atropos, who chose the mode and time of a person's death. Madame Defarge, always knitting, is a symbol of all three, but most strongly I see her as Atropos, the one who decides how and when.

Overall Rating: Recommended, especially if you want to read something by Dickens and don't have much free time. It's one of his shorter novels.

====================================================================

Charles Todd: A Matter of Justice, a mystery series featuring Inspector Ian Rutledge of Scotland Yard. The series is set just after the end of World War I. This novel begins on May 1920. This is the eleventh in the series by Todd, who is/are? in reality a mother-and-son writing team who live on the east coast of the US.

What makes this series stand out from others is the presence of Hamish MacLeod. Rutledge served in the British army during WWI, and his corporal was Hamish MacLeod. Rutledge was wounded in action, and in the hospital he discovered that he could hear the voice of Hamish, not saying things he remembered from the past but commenting on what was currently going on--which was impossible since MacLeod died during the war. Readers can choose to accept Hamish as a spirit/ghost occupying Rutledge's mind or see him as Rutledge's way of punishing himself for MacLeod's death. Hamish doesn't think much of Rutledge's abilities as a police officer and often offers his own interpretation of the clues and regularly delivers his own opinions about the various suspects.

A Matter of Justice is a somewhat convoluted novel in which the reader knows more from the beginning about the crime than Rutledge does for about four-fifths of the novel. The interest here is whether Rutledge, with Hamish's help (or hindrance?), will be able to overcome the hostility of the local police officer and get to the root of the crime, which actually extends back before WWI, to another war which the British might well want to forget about, the Boer War.

Overall Rating: recommended for those who enjoy police procedurals, the time and setting just after WWI in England, and a touch of the supernatural, perhaps.

====================================================================

Charlaine Harris: Dead Until Dark, a book discussion group selection. SGRVM says it all--Southern Gothic Romantic Vampire Mystery.

This is the novel that is the basis for the HBO series, True Blood. The heroine is a telepathic waitress named Sookie Stackhouse, who falls in love with a vampire named Bill. Her boss at the diner is Mel, who, unbeknownst to her, is a shape changer. And, then there's a serial killer running around who always drives a wooden stake into the heart of his/her victims.

Overall Rating: great book for a discussion group--excellent for comedy relief from more serious works.

The Rubaiyat: Quatrain V

First Edition: Quatrain V

Iram indeed is gone with all its Rose,
And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows;
But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,
And still a Garden by the Water blows.



Second Edition: Quatrain V

Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose,
And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows;
But still a Ruby gushes from the Vine,
And many a Garden by the Water blows.



Fifth Edition: Quatrain V

Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose
And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows;
But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine,
And many a Garden by the Water blows.


This quatrain focuses on the brevity of human endeavors--the glories of the past have gone and are almost forgotten. Iram and Jamshyd are no more. Iram, a fabulously wealthy city, has disappeared, and Jamshyd, once the most powerful king in the world, is no more. His cup, the source of immortality and power, is lost. In comparison, the natural world goes on as it always has.

The three versions do differ to some extent, but the main focus is still the same--the transience of human power and glory.



FIRST LINE: The first edition refers to "with all its Rose." This is changed in all subsequent editions to "with all his Rose."

Why the change from the neuter pronoun to the masculine escapes me.



SECOND LINE:

"And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows;"

No change through all five editions.



THIRD LINE:
1st Edition: But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,
2nd Edition: But still a Ruby gushes from the Vine,
3rd Edition: But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine.

The focus has shifted from the Vine in the first edition to the Ruby in later versions. The meaning of Ruby undergoes some subtle shifts over the various editions. In the first version, the Vine yields the Ruby, which suggests the Vine must give it up. This could suggest that the Ruby could be the grape itself, or perhaps wine.

The second version refers to the Ruby as it gushes from the Vine. The Ruby is now the active element, and it "gushes," suggesting the Vine is a pipeline only. That it "gushes" implies, to me anyway, that FitzGerald is referring to a liquid, which would be the wine, as liquids would be more likely to be seen as gushing than solid objects would be.

The final version is intriguing. The Ruby no longer is yielded by the Vine or gushes from the Vine, but it "kindles in the Vine." "Kindles" can be either active or passive. It can either cause something to break into flame or glow or it can arouse or inspire something, or, on the other hand, it can itself break into flame or glow or become aroused or inspired.

The grape can be seen as something that glows because of its reddish color or even something aflame set against the green of the vine. On the other hand, wine can be seen as glowing or aflame and also that which can inflame or arouse or inspire others.

Rather than decide between them, I shall take the cowardly way out and say that FitzGerald meant to suggest both.



FOURTH LINE:

1st Edition: And still a Garden by the Water blows.
2nd Edition: And many a Garden by the Water blows.
3rd Edition: And many a Garden by the Water blows.


There's clear comparison made in the first version. The past human glories are gone, but "still a garden" blooms. The second version becomes the final version also. It weakens the comparison by removing the word "still" and sort of trails off with "And many a Garden..." To say that there are many of them seems to reduce them to the level of the common and ordinary. Perhaps that was what FitzGerald had in mind, that the singular glories of human endeavors are survived by nature's ordinary and commonplace activities--a grapevine or a garden in bloom.




Notes:

The following is abstracted and paraphrased from Wikipedia entries on Iram and Jamshyd.

Iram was a trading center in the southern part of the Arabian Peninsula. It seems to have existed from 3000 B.C. to the first century A. D. It was a very wealthy city, gaining its riches from trade between the coastal regions and population centers of the Middle-East and Europe. It was later abandoned and eventually felt to be only a myth. However, recent archeological excavations have now shown it to be a real place.

Jamshyd, according to various ancient accounts, was the fourth king of the world. He had command over all the angels and demons of the world and had become the greatest monarch the world had ever known. He was also said to have had a magical seven-ring cup, Jam-e Jam which was filled with the elixir of immortality and allowed his to observe the universe. But Jamshid's pride grew with his power, and he began to forget that all the blessings of his reign were due to God. He boasted to his people that all of the good things they had came from him alone, and demanded that he should be accorded divine honors, as if he were the Creator. That, of course, was his downfall. He lost the favor of the Creator and his power diminished and his kingdom vanished into obscurity over time.

In the Beginning...

In a recent post I said that a novel written by Thomas H. Cook, Breakheart Hill, had a first line that reminded me of the first line of a favorite novel of mine, Ford Madox Ford's The Good Soldier. Ford began his novel with "This is the saddest story I have ever heard," while Cross started with "This is the darkest story that I ever heard."

Several days later, I turned to the first page of another novel and found awaiting me the following: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness..." Of course, Dickens' Tale of Two Cities is a unique novel in that it is the only one that I am aware of that not only has one of the most famous opening sentences in literature, but also one of the most famous endings in literature: it is Sidney Carton's soliloquy that ends the novel: "It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."

This set me off thinking about well-known beginnings; just hearing them brings back memories of the works involved. I suspect many of them would be recognized even by people who had never read the texts.

Part of the popularity of these openings is the relationship to the novel. For example, Ford's narrator, Dowell, and Cook's narrator, Ben, tell us that this story is one that they heard. It's as if they also are readers, and not participants as we would expect. What's intriguing about this is the puzzle creates for the reader--just why do Dowell and Ben tell us this is a story they heard?

Another well-known opening, perhaps, some might argue, the most famous in English literature, is "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife." I suspect this is more "universally acknowledged" among mothers of marriageable young ladies than it is among single men with good fortunes. And, in Austen's Pride and Prejudice, we see how this works out, with three marriages taking place between the covers of the book. A careful reading will show that actually only one of the single men involved was in want of a wife, and he was the one without a fortune. Perhaps Bingley and Darcy didn't know they were wanting a wife, in the beginning anyway.

Melville's Moby Dick is longer than any of the novels I've mentioned so far, so it is only fitting that it has one of the shortest opening sentences: "Call me Ishmael!" He's being bit evasive here as he says to call him Ishmael, not that his name is Ishmael. In the Bible, Ishmael is the son of Abraham and his wife's servant Hagar. Abraham disowned him and drove both Ishmael and Hagar out into the wilderness when his wife, Sarah, gave birth to Issac. Ishmael now has the meaning of a exile or outcast. Who is Melville's Ishmael?

A opening to a work that I suspect is the most widely read and recognized would be from Genesis--

"In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.
2. And the earth was without form, and void: and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.
3. And God said, Let there be light; and there was light."

Along with being one of the most widely-known opening lines, it is no doubt one of the most influential opening lines.


Novels aren't alone in producing memorable opening statements. Beethoven's opening to his Fifth Symphony is recognized by many who have never heard the entire symphony. And, I wouldn't be surprised if hundreds of people could identify and finish the following opening to a TV show that ran more than forty years ago: "Space. The Final Frontier. These are the voyages of the ..." George Lucas was also well aware of the importance of the opening statement when he began the "Star Wars" series, not with an opening action scene, but with a text message that slowly scrolled its way from the bottom to the top of the screen: "A long time ago in a galaxy far away..." That evoked memories of an opening statement that is almost a cliche: "Once upon a time...," surely the most common opening, in English anyway, for a fantasy tale.

I have a few personal favorites too:

"Whose woods these are I think I know,
His house is in the village though.
He won't see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow."

and

"Awake! For Morning in the Bowl of Night
Has flung the Stone that put the stars to flight:
And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught
The Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light."


How about you?

Any favorite openers?

Or, ones that I've forgotten?

Franz Kafka: A Hunger Artist

I have read Franz Kafka's "A Hunger Artist" a number of times and have had difficulties in the past trying to make sense of it. However, just as I was falling asleep shortly after reading it, this idea slowly emerged. Try it on and let me know what you think.

The story is about a man who makes his living by fasting for 40 days at a time. He is on display in a cage surrounded by an audience who come to watch him. The impresario attempts to have people in the area observe him 24 hours a day and who will swear he hasn't had anything to eat. The story depicts his eventual decline as an attraction that can draw an audience.

Several critics have suggested the story is about art, whether it be literature or painting or sculpture or music. Building on that concept, I should point out that the title is, after all, "A Hunger Artist." The initial article "A" suggests that this person is not unique, but one of several, if not many.

One of the characteristics of art that I hold to is that art to be art must communicate with others. If there is no audience, there is no art. It may be a painting or a musical composition, a poem or a work of fiction, but it isn't art, not without an audience. Note that at the beginning of the story, our artist has an audience--people who come to see him, study him, and even question him. He has an audience who are interested in him.

One point that is important but gets buried is that there are limits--40 days for the performance. If it goes over 40 days, he loses his audience. Similarly, if a poet or painter or composer goes beyond certain limits then that artist loses the audience--consider the case of modern painting, poetry, literature, and music. They have lost their audience and now, for the most part, appeal mostly to specialists and experts. It also happens that artists who realize that they are losing their audience sometimes go to extremes to the extent that they eventually lose or chase away whatever audience is left. At one point, our hunger artist goes beyond the 40 day limit and becomes so weak he cannot even sit and be seen anymore. All forget him, and he is lost.

Another point is that of fashion. Trends in the arts appear and go out of fashion. The same happened to the hunger artist. His day was over, and he was relegated to a circus, just one among many other attractions. He no longer is a headliner, able to draw an audience on his own. I am reminded of a museum where various artistic attractions are gathered so that an audience can come and browse among the many formerly powerful and influential trends, but now are just one among equals.

Something similar happens in the field of classical music. Artistic directors for orchestras are aware that if they scheduled a program of all modern music, Schoenberg or Cage, for example, they would see a much reduced audience. So, they sandwich a piece by Cage or Schoenberg in between two more traditional pieces which will bring in an audience. I heard a interview with one director who said that he always placed the modern work either first or second, because if he placed it last, after the break, he would lose a large portion of the audience. In the circus, our hunger artist is now placed in such a way that people had to pass by him to get to the wild animal cages.

The panther is the new fashion, and it is interesting to note that it is the opposite of the hunger artist. It is active and alive, and we read that the audience enjoys watching it eat. The panther is the opposite of the hunger artist; frequently, when one trend or fashion dies out, it is replaced by its opposite.


A Hunger Artist: Historical Context

One brief note--apparently Kafka did not create the hunger artist. There supposedly were such exhibitions in Europe during the early 20th century. Breon Mitchell, in "Kafka and the Hunger Artists," tells of "a world famous hunger artist whose coverage in local newspapers may have inspired Kafka's story. Mitchell point out that 'almost every detail' of Kafka's story corresponds to 'the actual profession of fasting for pay." This is an excerpt from the enote.com article at

http://tinyurl.com/dxpnad

Unfortunately it costs $8.00 to see the complete article.

Combination Plate 2

Daniel Keyes: "Flowers for Algernon"

I just finished rereading Daniel Keyes' "Flowers for Algernon." It's s a fascinating depiction of an individual whose intellectual capacity increases from subnormal to supernormal, but who still essentially remains the same person.

He is still the kind, decent person he was prior to his newly found ability to understand the world about him. He also realizes that, in spite of his initial intellectual impairment, he had those attributes which make one human to a greater degree than did those who may have had greater intellectual capacity but who lacked the human capacity for compassion and empathy and concern for others.

This is a remarkable accomplishment for a genre that tends to downplay character and focus on science or technology. Unlike others I have read that go back a half century or so, "Flowers
for Algernon" is as good now as it was then. Perhaps it is that human element that allows it to survive over time.

I haven't read the novel version which came some five or six years later, or the film, Charley, which came out about ten years after the short story was published. After having read the original story, I'm now curious about the expanded version and the film. To be honest, I have generally found that the expanded versions or films of prize-winning novellas or short stories are seldom as good.

But, there are always exceptions.

==================================================================

Edith Wharton: The Glimpses of the Moon, a novel
The novel opens with very familiar characters--two young people who are bright, handsome, intelligent, well-liked but poor. They are of socially prominent families that have seen better days. Neither can afford to live much longer in the class in which they were born, and neither wants to abandon those friends and acquaintances. Nick Lansing tries to make a living as a writer, while Susy Branch lives off her friends.

Nick and Susy aren't lovers, though they are best of friends. In spite of this, they come up with a rather unique solution--marry, combine their economic resources, and live for the day. They decide that they could probably survive for about a year, and perhaps longer, depending upon the generosity of their friends. And their friends do come through for them, allowing them to stay with them, and even opening up a home for a honeymoon in Italy that they have shut down while they lived in their US residence.

There is one more precondition: if either one of them finds a better opportunity--in other words, a suitor with money--then the other would quickly grant a divorce.

It is at this point that the novel turns absolutely, completely, wholly predictable. I'm not going to reveal the ending, save to say that all you have to do is imagine the most commonplace, ordinary, traditional plot and resolution for a romantic comedy and you have it.

The story, as are all of Wharton's works, is well-written with her usual sharp eye for the foibles and excesses of the upper classes. The characters are interesting, aside from Nick and Susy, who seem to be the typical young couple trapped in a romantic comedy--the interest is not in them, but in their situation. Nick and Susy, to be honest, seem rather bland and unremarkable, while their friends and acquaintances are far more interesting.

Overall: it's definitely not a typical Wharton work. Except for the rather banal plot, I would give it high marks for everything else.

==================================================================

Samuel R. Delany: Babel-17, a novel

This is early Delany, and, therefore, Delany at his best--back when he was more interested in writing to entertain than writing to insure his place in literary history.

Earth and its allies are at war with The Invaders. Just who the Invaders are is never really made clear. There are some hints that the Invaders are humans who have gone off and colonized another part of the galaxy and then have returned with malice in their hearts.

The two sides are evenly matched until the Invaders come up with an unbreakable code, or at least a code the Earth Alliance code breakers are unable to decrypt. One of the codebreakers suggests that the only person who could help decode Babel-17 is Rydra Wong, a former codebreaker who left to become a poet. She had an intuitive sense for words and patterns of words that no one else had.

The story, then, is of her quest to understand Babel-17 before it is too late. Along the way the reader will encounter individuals who have decided that they weren't happy with their appearance, so they add beaks, or claws, or inches, or bony spurs for fighting, or even wings. The body sculpters are very good at this time. Today's plastic surgeons are at the same level in comparison to the practicioners of that day as removing a splinter would be to open heart surgery today. In addition, part of her ship's crew are discorporate individuals--the dead, in other words.

Delany serves up an interesting mileu along with an interesting cast of characters and even a bit of space warfare along the way, in addition to some interesting thoughts about language and poetry.

Overall: many steps above the usual space adventure novel. If you are looking for some action and some ideas to contemplate, this is one for you.