Tag Archives: fiction

On revolution

Today’s topic is random thoughts on revolution. Seems fitting somehow as I write on Thanksgiving Eve 2021. Thanksgiving is a uniquely American (i.e. U.S.) holiday, although it has nothing to do with the American Revolution per se.

First, for Thanksgiving I have purchased a 12-pack of the Yard’s breweries “beers of the revolution”. Yards claims to have based these recipes on ones found in the actual papers of Washington, Jefferson, and Franklin. However literally or loosely they have interpreted whatever is in those papers, these beers are all yummy! I plan to drink “George Washington’s Porter” on Thanksgiving itself.

Second, I have purchased the novel Invisible Sun by Charles Stross, which is next in the Merchant Princes series and came out just recently. I don’t want to spoil anything, but the idea of revolution plays a role in this series. In fact, there is a book that serves as a sort of cheat sheet for how to avoid the mistakes of revolutions past and successfully mix politically revolution with catch-up technological progress. They seem to manage just this, although they do not avoid the ravages of global warming. A slight spoiler is that the American Revolution is not the primary model for their revolution, and neither is the British Revolution, the French Revolution, or any other European revolution a mostly ignorant American might have heard of. Nor is it based on communism, although they do seem to have decent public transportation, which we here in the U.S. know is a Commie plot!

Partly inspired by Charles Stross, I read a book called The Shortest History of Europe and another called Revolutions and the Revolutionary Tradition in the West: 1560-1991. I learned that there was something called a Dutch revolution, which I had no idea of. My knowledge of the British and French revolutions was mostly based on being forced to read A Tale of Two Cities in high school, which is mostly about the French revolution. The other fictional account I thought was about the French Revolution was Les Miserables, which I looked up and it is not about the (1789) French Revolution, but takes place around the 1830s. Like I said, I’m ignorant. But it’s not really my fault – in the course of my grade school studies, I had no less than three full years of American history, plus a full year of Virginia history around fourth or fifth grade. Wouldn’t it make sense if we had at least a year of European history at some point, maybe around the same time we are forced to read A Tale of Two Cities? The history of classical Greece and Rome, followed by Europe, used to be called “western civilization”. That might not be politically correct these days – well, maybe a two-year course covering those topics in a larger context of world history would make equal sense.

Continuing my historical theme this fall, I also read (listed to) S.P.Q.R. by Mary Beard, a historian of ancient Rome. I enjoyed this much more than the European history. It all ties together in a few ways. First, the fall of the Roman Republic in the first century B.C. (we are supposed to say B.C.E. now), along with the instability in many European countries around the 1700s right through the 1900s, convinces me that long-term stable governments are definitely the exception and not the rule in human affairs. Stable forms of government, democratic or not, seem to often be measured in years to decades. Centuries definitely seem to be the except to the rule, and I am not aware of any form of government that persisted for a millennium or more. So you could say the U.S. is doing pretty well as it approaches to 250-year mark, but getting pretty long in the tooth. Changes in government are not always sudden or violent. The Roman emperors maintained many of the nominal institutions of the Republic on paper, such as the Senate, while gradually usurping their functions. In the end, the Roman empire did “fall” so much as fade away into regional enclaves mixed in with the quasi-international Catholic and Orthodox churches. The breakup of the British, French, Habsburg, and Ottoman empires mirror this in many ways, and there may be some parallels to U.S. retrenchment in parts of the world, although that history is far from settled. There are probably good examples in the Eastern and Southern Hemispheres too, but I will have to chip away on my ignorance of those another time!

One final thought – something that surprised me is that episodes of inflation are a common theme that often coincide with or trigger political instability in history. Maybe I will give this some more thought and attempt to say intelligent things about it another time.

Summer Reading 2021, and Donald Rumsfeld’s parallel universe

Warning, I will mostly try to limit spoilers to things you could learn from reading the book descriptions below on Amazon, but if you are really interested in experiencing the Merchant Princes series, the Dark Tower series, or Star Trek Discovery with no prior inkling of what they are about, maybe avoid this post.

I haven’t made a summer reading post yet in 2021. And Donald Rumsfeld passed away this week. How are these two things related? Well, it seems that my summer reading theme for this year has settled on parallel universes. This happened somewhat by accident. A year or more ago, I ran out of books in Charlie Stross’s Laundry Files series and turned to his Merchant Princes series without really knowing what it was about. I’m going to try to avoid spoilers in this post, so let’s just say it involves parallel universes along with stealth lessons on economics and the history of technological progress. It’s also about a Game of Thrones-esque medieval succession crisis, nuclear terrorism, and how the United States government might (over)react to an incident of nuclear terrorism. Which is where Donald Rumsfeld comes in. And I’ll leave it at that, having already said too much. I never get quite into the characters or plots in this series as much as I did the Laundry Files, but I’m still enjoying.

In my mind, the real Rumsfeld in our universe gets a lot of credit for the Iraq weapons of mass destruction lie, the Iraq invasion, and Guantanamo Bay, and more generally civilian deaths and mistreatment of prisoners of war. And almost all of it was by choice rather than necessity. What I didn’t remember, but was reminded of by this Intercept article, was his central role in the “Plan B” assessment in the 70s that produced alternative facts (aka lies) about Soviet nuclear capability and led to the huge arms buildup of the 1980s. So in my book he had a lot of blood on his hands, and took foolish risks that could have led to unimaginable consequences. I find it hard to mourn his passing.

Anyway back to happier topics in bloodless fictional universes like Stephen King’s Dark Tower series. Ha ha, did I say bloodless? This is Stephen King we’re talking about. I read The Stand during the 2020 Covid-19 shut down, then moved on to this for this summer. In a forward to The Stand, Stephen King talks about how he originally intended The Stand to be a sort of Lord of the Rings set in the American west. The Stand turned out to be something different, and this turns out to be more like what The Stand was meant to be early on. There’s a tower and an eye, for chrissakes. It’s pretty awesome – a wild mashup of Lord of the Rings, Clint Eastwood movies (I’m listening to the audiobook and the narrator uses a spot-on Clint Eastwood impression throughout), King Arthur, Roger Zelasny’s Amber series (which is also evident in the Merchant Princes series, but I would say more evident here), Brothers Grimm (and/or its Disney variants), the Wizard of Oz, King’s own work, and I am sure thousands of other things I am not picking up on. Like at one point, we meet a crouching tiger and a hidden dragon just a few pages apart. It might not hold together if it was written by someone other than Stephen King, but hey…

Did I mention Star Trek Discovery above? I like Star Trek – it’s a little nerdy, a little campy, the acting is not always excellent, and it’s just relaxing and fun and you don’t have to think too hard. Well, this turned out to be less campy, better acted, and more fun than I expected. There’s some martial arts action from Michelle Yeoh, who starred in Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon in 2000, and is now 58 years old. And there is a parallel universe angle, which I wasn’t expecting, and just slotted it right into place with my summer theme.

I’m going to run out of Merchant Princes most likely, so I might read another Amber novel. I don’t love Amber actually, but it’s just canonical so I plan to work my way through it little by little. After Labor Day, I’ll return to my usual alternating of fiction and non-fiction, and generally slower reading pace.

novel writing software, Scrivener, and R Bookdown

This is a pretty niche post, but a couple years ago I briefly entertained a fantasy of becoming a novelist. After I tried to write a novel, my the wisdom of not quitting my day job was affirmed. But in the course of that, I briefly investigated software that novelists are using to organize their books and research. The most popular is called Scrivener. I was thinking though that it would be neat if someone would customize the R packages Markdown or Bookdown for writing, because then especially if you are writing non-fiction you could have all your data, analysis code, tables, figures, references etc. in one place along with your prose. This post describes a system that allows the author to actually combine the use of Scrivener and R Bookdown.

the Overlook Hotel

Ever wonder if the Overlook Hotel from The Shining is real, and where it is? It is real, it’s in Oregon, and you can stay there. Its real name is The Timberline. The interior is not like the movie though, those shots were done in a movie studio. That’s probably good, unless you are looking for a creepy Halloween experience. There is no hedge maze, but the mountain setting and snow are real. It is most certainly not shut down for the winter, because it is a ski resort.

Solaris

I’ve been revisiting the fantastic descriptions of the alien ocean in Solaris by Stanislaw Lem, and I just want to share one part of one paragraph, which I hope does not constitute a copyright violation. His paragraphs are quite long however.

…if comparisons with Earth really have to be employed – these are formations larger in magnitude than Colorado’s Grand Canyon, modeled in a substance that on the outside has the consistency of jelly and foam (though the foam hardens into vast, brittle garlands, into tracery with immense holes, while some scientists have seen it as “skeletal excrescances”). Within, it turns into an ever firmer substance, like a flexed muscle, but one that quickly, at a depth of fifty feet or so, grows harder than rock, though it retains its elasticity. Extending for several miles between walls that stretch like membranes over a monster’s back and cling to its huge “skeleton” is the actual extensor, a seemingly independent format, like a colossal python that has swallowed an entire mountain chain and is now digesting it in silence, from time to time setting its body in slow, shuddering, fishlike contractions. But this is only what the extensor looks like from above, from the cabin of an aircraft. When you get close enough to it that the walls of the ravine rise hundreds of yards above the plane, the python’s torso turns out to be a moving expanse that stretches all the way to the horizon and is so dizzying it takes on the look of a passively bulging cylinder. The first impression is of a whirl of slick gray-green slime whose layers throw off powerful glints of sunlight; but when the craft hovers right over the surface (at such moments the edges of the ravine in which the extensor is concealed are like heights on either side of a geological depression), it can be seen that the motions are much more complex. They possess their own concentric rotations, darker streams intersect, and at times the outer mantle becomes a mirrored surface reflecting clouds and sky and shot through with loud explosive eruptions of its half-fluid, half-gaseous center. It slowly becomes clear that right below you is the central point of the forces holding up the parted sides that soar high into the sky and are composed of sluggishly crystallizing jelly…

Solaris, Stanislaw Lem

Like I said, that is one part of one paragraph. It goes on like that for a long time. There have been a couple movies, but it really is a case where a few words are worth a thousand pictures, and whatever you picture in your mind is better than anything the most talented movie special effects person could come up with.

May 2020 in Review

You can’t say that 2020 has not been interesting so far. The Covid-19 saga continued throughout May. I certainly continued to think about it, including a fun quote from The Stand, but my mind began turning to other topics.

 

Most frightening and/or depressing story:

  • Potential for long-term drought in some important food-producing regions around the globe should be ringing alarm bells. It’s a good thing that our political leaders’ crisis management skills have been tested by shorter-term, more obvious crises and they have passed with flying colors…doh!

Most hopeful story:

Most interesting story, that was not particularly frightening or hopeful, or perhaps was a mixture of both:

  • There are unidentified flying objects out there. They may or may not be aliens, that has not been identified. But they are objects, they are flying, and they are unidentified.

Game of Thrones and human extinction

Slate makes a pretty good point about Game of Thrones – the humans probably shouldn’t win, but they will. This happens in a lot of movies, of course. The bad guys are so bad that the good guys have no plausible chance, and then there is some deus ex machina that makes it all work out. Like all you have to do is throw a bucket of water on the previously invulnerable witch, and she melts. The Death Star has some ridiculous vulnerable point that can be taken out with one shot. The alien ship’s force field can be deactivated because it just happens to use Windows 95 as its operating system (Independence Day). It can be a little annoying if you feel like the authors/screenwriters were just lazy. But in the end, you can either suspend your disbelief and enjoy the story, or go watch a documentary or read a non-fiction book if you are such as deadly serious person you can’t do that.


Viewers have known from the beginning that humanity is facing an existential threat from the army of undead known as the White Walkers, but the show’s characters have discovered the looming crisis only gradually, and they’ve been slow to reckon with the little they do know. Now, with the Night King’s masses marching south from the sundered Wall, there’s no doubt that the threat is real. And yet, with only five episodes of Game of Thrones remaining, the human race is resolutely failing to rise to the occasion. Jon Snow’s attempt to form an alliance with Daenerys Targaryen has created dissension instead of unity, with some northern houses deserting the cause and others, like poor little Lord Umber’s, left unprepared and undersupplied. Despite having pledged her troops, Cersei is merely lying in wait, hoping that the rival armies weaken each other enough for her to conquer whatever remains.

So there you have it. I don’t really think Game of Thrones is primarily a climate change allegory. It mashes together a lot of different things as good authors (especially fantasy and science fiction authors) tend to do. Early on, I thought it was a realistic depiction of social conditions in a medieval, feudal society, examining what it was like for various groups to live there, with just enough fantasy and soft porn thrown in to keep people hooked. Mythologically, there are definitely some King Arthur ties. Zoroastrians have a seven-fold god and fire temples, and the Celts have tree spirits. Most religions have some sort of apocalypse scenario, and in many it is part of a cycle that repeats.

What do I think is going to happen? We may never find out what George R.R. Martin originally had in mind, any more than Disney’s Star Wars ending is likely to match whatever George Lucas had in mind. This is not a particularly bold prediction, but I predict the Deus Ex Machina is going to involve dragons and fire in some way. The humans will have all but lost, and then the fire god will step in and cleanse the land in some way so the cycle can begin again.

works entering the public domain on January 1, 2019

I’m having some trouble with the math on this one.

We will all, as of January 1, 2019, have free, unfettered access to Williams’ metafictional shake-up of the formulaic status quo, when “hundreds of thousands of… books, musical scores, and films first published in the United States during 1923” enter the public domain, as Glenn Fleishman writes at The Atlantic. Because of the complicated history of U.S. copyright law—especially the 1998 “Sonny Bono Act” that successfully extended a copyright law from 50 to 70 years (for the sake, it’s said, of Mickey Mouse)—it has been twenty years since such a massive trove of material has become available all at once. But now, and “for several decades from 2019 onward,” Fleishman points out, “each New Year’s Day will unleash a full year’s worth of works published 95 years earlier.”

So is it 70 years or 95 years, or does it depend on the type of work? Why can’t I read novels from the 1940s right now? Anyway, the excerpt above is from Open Culture, and has links to many other lists. A couple that catch my eye are one of Agatha Christie’s first novels and some short stories by H.P. Lovecraft.

haunted houses

The New York Times has a roundup of haunted house stories just in time for Halloween. I have read only two on the list – The Shining, which I liked, and Slade House, which I didn’t.

I’m not too big on horror but I occasionally dabble. Sometimes you remember where you were when you read certain books, and it happens that I read these two books in Thailand two Octobers four years apart. I like Lovecraft. I am interested in reading the “laundry series” by Charles Stross, which sounds like a mix between Men in Black and Monster Hunter International (which I also read in Thailand incidentally – traveling is when I read and Thailand is a place I travel, so there.)

James Bond

Part of my summer bucket list was to read one of the old Ian Fleming James Bond books. In the end, I read them all. They are not long and not hard to read. Here are 10 things that surprised me about the literary James Bond.

Warning: This post contains minor spoilers, in case you were thinking of wading into Ian Fleming yourself. Parents, be warned it also contains the P word. PUSSY! There, I said it and it’s out of my system. Actually, I just heard an NPR announcer say it today (talking about the Russian band Pussy Riot) and it made me laugh out loud.

  1. He does order at least one vodka martini shaken not stirred, but his favorite drink by far is bourbon. He drinks enormous quantities of the stuff. He never orders less than a double and sometimes he orders it by the tumbler or just downs it straight from the bottle. In at least one case he mixes it with coffee and takes it with him on a mission that involves climbing trees, firearms and hand-to-hand combat. He definitely drinks in part to unwind after, and sometimes during, a hard day of spying. He occasionally drinks beer or wine, but you get the idea that is just to stay hydrated between bourbons. He also drinks enormous quantities of coffee and states emphatically many times in multiple books how much he despises tea.
  2. He also smokes enormous amounts of cigarettes all day every day.
  3. Somehow, despite this lifestyle he stays in excellent physical condition. Once, it catches up to him a bit and he is ordered to detox in a health clinic for a couple weeks, which is all it takes to restore him to perfect health. This is all somewhat amusing until you learn that Ian Fleming drank and smoked heavily, leading to several heart attacks that ultimately killed him in his 50s. So viewed through that lense, it reads a little like a fantasy of someone who is not in good health but imagines an alter-ego who is. Imagine if Clark Kent downed a bottle of scotch every day, knowing that it couldn’t hurt him. Well, Ian Fleming was no Superman but James Bond sort of was.
  4. He seems most relaxed and engaged in life when he is in dangerous, risky situations that would be extremely stressful for a normal person. When he has a period of relative safety and office work, he gets depressed. This reminds me of possibly the only more famous fictional British character, Sherlock Holmes. He was similar in that he would get bored and depressed when he had a lull in between cases. Like Bond, he turned to substance abuse (cocaine in his case) to get through these periods, and like Bond, he seemed to suffer no lasting ill effects. Both also fake their deaths after defeating an arch-enemy and later resurface. Ian Fleming and Conan Doyle’s character Watson were war veterans (World War II and Afghanistan, respectively), and would have seen some serious shit in their time, which I imagine might have taken more of a toll than it took on their fictional supermen. I’m sure Fleming would have read and been influenced by Conan Doyle.
  5. Pussy Galore was a woman who preferred the company of other women, until she met James Bond… James Bond seems to have a complicated, yet simple, view of lesbians. If they are young and attractive (to men), they are okay and if they are not, they tend to be evil, especially if they prey on young women who are attractive to men.
  6. Speaking of the P word, Octopussy is an actual octopus, showing up briefly in a short story found in Fleming’s notes after his death. James Bond is mostly fearless but he has a weird phobia about octopuses, seeming to believe that they are among the most deadly sea creatures. I’ve done a little research and other than the poisonous ones in Australia, there is almost no evidence of octopuses posing any serious threat to humans, and certainly not killing them.
  7. James Bond is not a particular fan of gay men, short people, Japanese people and people with disabilities. He seems to like black people, gypsies, and Americans overall although he occasionally spouts various slurs and generalizations about them. He is not bothered when one close friend recalls raping someone. In one instance he himself is guilty of something bordering on date rape, although the woman involved does not seem concerned about it afterward. He generally treats women and people in general with respect when he encounters them one on one, however.
  8. One Bond story is a first person account of a young woman’s coming of age, including some sexual exploits, some of which involve James Bond. Perhaps Ian Fleming was bored and wanted to experiment a bit with that one.
  9. He doesn’t always get the girl. Well, usually he gets the girl, but typically only one per novel, and occasionally zero, or there is just a sense of mounting sexual tension which might lead to something offscreen.
  10. The novels are not as violent as the movies. James Bond states several times that he does not kill in cold blood. He generally kills in self defense or occasionally in revenge, and feels some regret about it. The women he sleeps with are not killed constantly like they are in the movies. The villain pretty much always dies, but not always in a violent one-on-one showdown like in the movies. Sometimes it is in a more anti-climactic way. One thing is exactly like the movies – the villains do tend to leave James Bond in “an easily escapable situation involving an overly elaborate and exotic death,” as Dr. Evil put it in Austin Powers. They do sometimes explain why they do this – basically some mixture of sadism, ego, and over-confidence. It’s not quite convincing, but hey, these stories are fantasies in the end.

It was fun reading these books and I’m not sure why I didn’t do it sooner. Rest in peace, Ian Fleming, and long live your indestructible fictional alter ego.