Journal of No. 118

 Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro

Given how much I enjoyed Klara and the Sun, this was a disappointment. Some good character studies as a cohort comes up in school and then leaves for 'the real world' as alliances and friendships and petty cruelties shift back and forth. But that's about all it is. Maybe that's enough. An additional layer of dystopian horror (to which our protagonists are largely blind) is almost irrelevant.

Miskatonic Missives, by the HPL Historical Society.

I ponied up for the kickstarter for this matched set of volumes exploring 3 letters from HPL to Duane Rimel, Barlow (his future literary executor) and Robert E Howard. They are a sui generis take on presenting the letters, sortofa printed/illustrated attempt at a hypertext. Short stories mentioned by Lovecraft are printed in full or part later in the volume. Covers of magazine. Maps of places visited. Occasional commentary. Glosses. News clippings related to mentioned events. At its best, it's like soaking in 1934, giving more context and color to the world from whence the letters come. Additionally, a fourth volume of loose ephemera includes postcards, bus tickets and other tangible goodies. All the art and presentations throughout have the kind of production values one would expect of the HPLHS.

At the same time there are some minuses; it's a little hard to navigate the book. In principle it's no worse than looking at end notes rather than footnotes, but when some of the 'notes' are complete 20 page short stories, it's very different in practice. Of course, there are always going to be questions about editorial choices, but I think the most egregiously gratuitous one was an idle reference to Bob Howard about fisticuffs being 'linked' to a 1930s brochure for self-defense classes. The brochure was authentic and historical, but it had no earthly connection to either man.

The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas (père)

Chosen for the work book club, but we maybe should have noticed it runs to 1000 pages. I'm reading it via a free e-book from Project Gutenberg. The translation is very readable, but it doesn't seem to have much verve. I don't know if that's the translation or the work itself. I may slowly push my way further on, but my interest has waned.

The UMBRAL Anthology of Science Fiction Poetry

UMBRAL was (I gather) a journal edited by Steve Rasnic Tem in the 70s and this anthology of poetry that appeared in it was published in 1982.

A lot of it is free verse and flutters past my glazed eyeballs without leaving much impression. One definite exception is Thomas Disch's "On Science Fiction", which seems to balance the warring feelings of "Fans are Slans" and the lack of self-confidence among science fiction fans. Fans are simultaneously better than and inferior to everybody else. A few other good ones, but that Disch poem stand out. And I guess I have good taste -- it won the Rhysling Award in 1981. Most of the poets are unknown to me, but a few (like Disch) are familiar names from science fiction.

Aha, found "On Science Fiction" reprinted here in a collection of Rhysling winners.

Five Strokes to Midnight is a World Fantasy Award nominated anthology of horror/dark fiction stories by five authors: Gary A. Braunbeck & Hank Schwaeble (which duo also edited), Tom Piccirilli, Deborah LeBlanc, and Christopher Golden. Each contributed two or three stories, loosely bound to a theme particular for each author. All pretty good stuff, many with a vein of deep personal emotion -- as a robot, this is not always my thing, but here it is handled generally really well.

The book starts out strong with Piccirilli's "Loss", as some out-of-left-field fantastic elements add some mystery to the regret. Tom's second story seems overlong, but now that he himself is gone, I'll take all the words I can get.

Leblanc's Curses gives us some vivid pictures of backwoods Louisiana - voodoo and worse.

Schwaeble's "Bone Daddy" is an agreeably nasty bit of work -- Lap dances for liches never turn out well.

Golden's Folklore stories take on Lost Miners, Goat Suckers and Ghost Trains. The last of which ends with a satisfying note that helps you close the book without shuddering.

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The Adventures of Tom Bombadil and Other Verses from the Red Book collects a few of the longer verses Tolkien used in the Lord of the Rings, some related poems not in LotR, and others.

Many of them are rather somber in tone, while others are quite, well, Tom Bombadilly.

"The Mewlips" is delightfully creepy

The Shadows where the Mewlips dwell
Are dark and wet as ink,
And slow and softly rings their bell,
As in the slime you sink.
...

And how can I not love "Cat"?

The fat cat on the mat
   may seem to dream
of nice mice that suffice
   for him, or cream;
but he free, maybe,
   walks in thought
unbowed, proud, where loud
   roared and fought
his kin, lean and slim,
   or deep in den
in the East feasted on beasts
   and tender men.
...

His love of internal rhyme is on full display here, something I often find appealing.

The art by Pauline Baynes is amusing, hearkening to medieval illustrations, but it makes for a good segue into my last little review

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Eye of the Beholder: The Art of Dungeons and Dragons

This is a documentary film about the artists behind some of the iconic images of D&D. In many ways, it is exactly as nerdy as it sounds. As a documentary, it's maybe not the best, but there are some neat insights, and plenty of dragons (and dungeons) on display.

Once upon a time, a lot of fantasy art looked like Pauline Baynes work -- somewhat tame. And then Frazetta and Vallejo showed up and went bonkers. D&D artists all wanted to be Frazetta and Boris. And this is their story.

It's interesting to see some of the inside history of how TSR grew, and went from amusing (and sometimes somewhat crudely executed) B&W images done on the cheap, and quickly turned into big colorful professional works. And then (to my eye) it drifted into something very 'corporate'. Alas, I think this final phase has, as the film I think correctly points out, informed a lot of current fantasy art (from novels to film to videogames to everything) making it derivative of a particular TSR corporate look. I mean it's commercial art, so it is what it is. And the stuff I'm nostalgic for was commercial art as well. But that original Players Handbook cover, which is rightly lauded in the documentary, just sets you thinking in exactly the right way to explain the game.

What just happened? Who are these people? What are they doing? Some people are doing this, and other people are doing that, and then there's those people over there --  what is going on? Did the lizard things live here and worship here? What's going to happen when they pop that jewel out? What will they do then?

Really nice collection, organized into little themed areas.

Most of the items are from del Toro's collection, but there are a few from LACMA itself:



As creepy as the many life-size life-like statues are, I did like the Ray Harryhausen tribute:



There were also a small number of metal sculptures Ray himself had made.



Speaking of statuary, got to see Bryan's work -- someday I'll get to the other big bust in Providence:



Arthur Rackham original!

Swann's auction catalog of Art, Press, & Illustrated books has some pretty unique things.

A curious edition of Flatland, published by the Arion Press, with an introduction by Ray Bradbury. It's printed on 56 accordion folded pages (so you can lay out the whole text... flat) and housed in an aluminum case.



If that's not wacky enough... The Robin Book:



If that's not pretty enough, then how about the Kelmscott Press (William Morris) Works of Chaucer:



If that's not racy enough, imagine having to compose a properly dry auction catalog entry for this:

"An unusual, unexpected, and very erotically graphic publication that touches on all manner of taboos and the employment of otherwise innocent items like pickles."

An incomplete, long-delayed compilation of our Xmaholisolstizaah cards over the years.

I've started reading On the Map, and there have been some lovely things, like the Hereford Mappa Mundi, and some awesome work by the monk Matthew Paris. There's a lovely road map by him (the AAA Trip-Tik of its day) that shows the journey from London to Jerusalem in various stages, and there's even some neat little flaps that fold out for more info. And I'm delighted to see that the book/map has been scanned by the British Library, so you can navigate it yourself. Be sure to flip forward a bit to see the map of England.

Dr. Pookie noticed Edwin Henry Landseer's "Man Proposes, God Disposes," painted in 1864. It's quite a striking painting.

Despite the title, the complete lack of tentacles, and being painted decades before Lovecraft's birth, I think there's a hint of the Lovecraftian here, in the illustration of the futility of man in the face of the uncaring universe, even with the benefit of our feeble science, represented here by the telescope. This is not a celebration of the heroism of those who risk their lives in exploration, but a scene of horror at their failure.

The painting depicts the aftermath of John Franklin's last expedition to the Arctic, which led to the deaths of the entire complement of 129. Obviously, "At the Mountains of Madness" also deals with a failed polar expedition, and to make an extremely tenuous connection, the fictional expedition passes Franklin Island, named after John Franklin.

To get even more tenuous, the story also mentions Mount Erebus and Mount Terror, two volcanoes in Antarctica. The mountains are named after the ships used by James Ross in his polar expeditions, and later used by the doomed Franklin expedition. The remains of HMS Erebus have recently been found.

The painting now hangs in a university hall in London, where (on test days) it is covered by the Union Jack to avoid spooking the students.

Recent graduate Michaela Jones was told that a student during an exam had stared directly into one of the polar bears' eyes. Trance-like, the student had then gone "mad" and killed herself - although not before etching the words "The polar bears made me do it" onto her exam paper.

( Friendspage breaking giant image back here )

LACMA has a fine exhibit on German Expressionist film, with lots of behind the scenes production art, stills, posters, and other material. Loops of several films also play in inviting walkthrough areas of the exhibit. You don't feel like you have to stay for the whole show, or that you will annoy anyone by staying a moment and passing on.

Lots of good material on the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.



Die Nibelungen



M



Metropolis



The Golem, The Blue Angel, Faust, Waxworks, the Testament of Dr. Mabuse...

After the art, a fine meal at Ray's, although the server and the chef paid a lot more attention to a few wealthy donor types. I'm sure it's wishful thinking that the chef would deign to speak with the likes of us, but at least I know what 'sous-vide' means, unlike the wealthy twat you're fawning over. They had a nice menu of drinks inspired by (not German expressionist) films. My Evil Flying Monkey was based on an aviation, natch. The charcuterie plate is just as good as I remember it. And the lamb sausage pizza was fantastic stuff.

This is what 45 looks like.



[For reference, this is what 40 looks like.]

The comment there about 'Sunday was lazy football watching and pizza making' remains fairly apposite, as here is dinner:



Prosciutto, broccolini, onion, olives, jalapeño, capers...

Yes, it was very, very good.

But I do not taunt you aimlessly, (maybe).

As I alluded before, a year from today will mark the completion of my 46th year. Twice 23. 23 years (arguably 92) since the events of 23 Skidoo occurred.

So I officially announce 23 Skidoo Times Two. September 13th, 2015 -- hopefully some of you will survive into September 14th.

This live game is not literally a sequel to 23 Skidoo -- especially since only a handful of people 'survived' -- but I'm certainly open to continuing lines.

My basic ideas...

The setting
Date: 1946
Place: Vienna, Austria
Venue: An auction of rare items and curiosae, much of it no doubt liberated by the vicissitudes of WWII.
Characters: to be written by players, and then adapted as needed by moi.
Primary filmic reference: The Third Man. Not that the game will necessarily be anything like this, but you must watch this peerless film, and thank me later.
Theme: Lovecraftian references will no doubt be present, and possibly of primary importance, but not necessarily overpowering. Postwar malaise. Black Market. Greed. Lust. Wrath. Other Deadly Sins.

The game: theater-style live game. In many ways an ode to the Enigma games of yore, but informed by the past few decades.

The players: I hope and trust, a great many of my friends, old and new, from Enigma, Wyrd Con, and beyond.

The details: In general.... TBA.

And so I ask... who's in? Contact me publicly or privately with your ideas, suggestions, concerns, etc.

In some months a more official announcement will appear, but for now this serves as an announcement of intent.

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"Appendix D of The Lord of the Rings says that our New Year's Day (January 1) corresponds "more or less" to the Shire's "January 9", and in standard years our September 14 and the Shire's "September 22" [i.e. Bilbo's and Frodo's birthday] both fall 256 days after that date."