'Flesh' by David Szalay

This was a Christmas present that I just got around to reading. It’s funny – as I was describing the book to my partner, I realised it all sounded fairly conventional, but it didn’t feel that way as I was reading it. The main character goes from relative poverty in Hungary to London’s elite and… I don’t know… learns lessons along the way, I guess.

The writing is very sparse, which I quite like. It gave me some ideas for the thing I’m currently working on, which is always something to be viewed with suspicion.

It’s only as I try to find cover art to include here that I realise it won the Booker prize. It might be the first Booker winner I’ve ever read, as I tend to stay away from that sort of thing. It was good. I’m not sure I would call it ‘extraordinary and singular’, as the Booker judges did, but it’s all right.

These notes are supposed to be me just keeping track of what I’ve read and seen, but they do come across as quite grumpy, don’t they?

(I’ve missed quite a few books. I might have to bung them all in a round up post.)

Anyway, ‘Flesh’ was pretty good. I’d wait for the paperback, but whatever.

Buy ‘Flesh’ by David Szalay from bookshop.org

Chrome OS Flex... didn't work (for me)

I got very excited by the notion of prolonging the life of my old Macbook Pro by installing Chrome OS. It didn’t work, as it couldn’t connect to the wifi. As a Chromebook without wifi is like a flower without water, it wouldn’t allow me to go any further. Honestly, if it had, I might have explored that as a connection-free device can be useful for crashing out rough drafts.

But if you’ve got an old laptop that’s got pretty slow, then perhaps it will work for you. It’s possible to try it just by creating a USB key and booting from that, meaning you don’t have to wipe your hard drive to give it a go (thankfully).

Upgrade* your PCs and Macs to ChromeOS Flex

*Questionable, but whatever.

How to Install ChromeOS Flex on an Old Mac

IOWA by OUYUNG

I’m trying to be a better ‘music citizen’ and not rely on all-you-can-eat streaming so much. I pre-ordered this based on the two preview tracks. Proceeds from vinyl sales go to to the Trans Music Archive.

OHYUNG bandcamp

via CDM

'The Ballad of a Small Player' by Lawrence Osbourne

I’ve had this sitting on my shelf for some time and it may be the recently released Netflix adaptation that made me pick it up again. It’s the story of a gambler, passing himself off as an English lord, losing money in the casinos of Macau.

Some books you re-start and wonder why you ever put them down, only to get to the point you reached and remember. That was the case here, where it was another entry in the canon of shitty-man-has-woman-dote-on-him-for-no-good-reason. I always find that a bit annoying, but pushed on through here.

I’m honestly not that interested in gambling. I count myself fortunate that whatever fascination people seem to have with losing money, I don’t share. Of all my vices, that’s not one of them. But the idea of luck and superstition have a certain appeal and when the book explores these, I found it a bit more engaging.

As always with page-to-screen adaptations, I would be interested to see what changes in transition. Colin Farrell has turned out to be an actor whose work I find interesting. I’d previously dismissed him, having seen him in iRobot and the poster for the sacrilegious Total Recall remake. But having seen In Bruges, my opinion came around. I really enjoyed the Apple TV series Sugar and although I wasn’t convinced at first about the necessity of The Penguin series, it turned out to be pretty good. Anyway, this isn’t supposed to be about Colin Farrell, but rather the book.

Because if there’s one main takeaway I have from reading The Ballad of a Small Player, it’s that I love little hardbacks. The dust jacket for this one got lost somewhere along the way and it’s just a perfect little red volume, pleasing in its size, weight and tactility.

'The Feral Detective' by Jonathan Letham

I’m not going to write a lot about this, because it’s 1.30AM and I really should be sleeping, but I did enjoy it. I’m a little bit tired of shaggy detective stories by now (and snarky narrators, as per my previous post) but this was pretty good. I’d previously read Letham’s ‘Motherless Brooklyn, as well as having ‘Fortress of Solitude’ out from the library for so long that I had to pay for a new copy. I never read it, though.

The trek through weird desert communities of ‘Rabbits’ and ‘Bears’ was interesting enough, but I suppose what struck me most was the use of the first Trump presidency as a point of historical reference. Not that long ago now, but it feels like it. As for all the outrage the narrator feels at the time… lady… you ain’t seen nothing yet.

Buy ‘The Feral Detective’ from bookshop.org

'The Grownup' by Gillian Flynn / 'Homesick for Another World' by Otessa Moshfegh / 'Rejection' by Tony Tulathimutte

I’m well aware that the main point of this ‘Notes’ section is for me to keep track of things I’ve read, rather than anyone else actually reading these little posts. I’ve fallen behind a bit and now am in the position of having to collate a few things and try to work out what I think about them.

I’ve been working on a long piece of fiction for ten months and I think I’ve reached the end of the first draft. It’s a cobbled together thing that doesn’t always make a lot of sense, but I’ve reached the end of this phase of development. This is a difficult spot for me. Usually, I look at a first draft and wonder how to fix its many problems, while keeping the things I found interesting in the first place.

One of the decisions I have to make regards the tense used in the narrative. I went for a third person past perspective, even though it might have made a lot of sense to use first person present. It’s possible I will still do this. One of the reasons for it might be to give the main character more of a voice.

I was thinking of the Gillian Flynn story ‘The Grownup’, which I remembered for its kind of sarky, don’t-give-a-shit narrator. Recently I also read Otessa Moshfegh’s short story collection, ‘Homesick for Another World’, which from the off featured similarly messy protagonists with more than a little bit of snark about them. Then I read Tony Tulathimutte’s ‘Rejection’ and I came to realise that these kinds of stories are best - for me - in smaller doses. I can’t imagine living with this sort of voice for another ten months. All the books have their merits, but a little goes a long way.

Buy ‘The Grownup’ by Gillian Flynn at bookshop.org

Buy ‘Homesick for Another World’ by Otessa Moshfegh at bookshop.org

Buy ‘Rejection’ by Tony Tulathimutte at bookshop.org

'The Librarians' is inspiring and depressing, in unequal measure

I’ve been wanting the opportunity to see The Librarians since reading about it on social media a few months ago. It was a pleasant surprise to find out that it was screening on iPlayer as part of the BBC’s Storyville strand.

I think it’s probably not a surprise to anyone to learn that right-wing populists are on the ascent, but it’s still incredibly scary to see the effects of that. This feature-length documentary follows the struggles faced by librarians in the face of aggressive campaigns of intimidation and abuse. A pseudo-grassroots book-banning campaign to remove LGBTQ+ books, books about race and books about fascism from library shelves becomes incredibly ugly when seen up close. The amount of intimidation and hatred faced by these librarians - librarians, for god’s sake - is incredibly depressing.

It’s amazing to see what they endure. It is utterly unsurprising to discover that the campaign run against them is calculated, co-ordinated and run by a millionaire who is slightly to the right of the kaiser. School boards, it seems, have become the latest target of the right’s strategy to consolidate power. It makes me wonder how progressive politics can ever effectively counter such an organised and calculated approach. You have to believe it’s possible. You have to.

Watch ‘Storyville: The Librarians’ on BBC iPlayer

Don't Buy Anything for Prime Day

As much for myself as much as anybody else, a little reminder not to be tempted to buy things from Amazon, particularly not on the gluttonous carnival of ‘Prime Day’.

I’ve really reduced my usage of Amazon over the years, but still find myself looking at the listings when big ‘bargains’ present themselves. I still have a Kindle, but I’m trying not to buy any new books from Amazon, partially because I want to read more physical books but also because the company appears to be run by bloodsucking ghouls who feed on human misery. But that’s just conjecture. I’m trying to find other ebook vendors, although getting them onto a locked down device is an issue to be sorted out.

In case you need reasons as to why shopping at Amazon is bad, I reluctantly recommend this Guardian article by Corey Doctorow. Honestly, I find a lot of Doctorow’s articles seem to boil down to Me and my friends used to be able to do whatever we want and we should go back to that, without ever addressing issues like how artists get paid for their work online. But whatever. The article does a good job of going through the numerous ways Amazon screws over vendors, customers and workers.

Irregular Choice to close

Sad to hear that bonkers shoes and accessories shop Irregular Choice is closing down. My wife wore a pair of their shoes at our wedding and their shops were always worth having a look around. I mean, just look at this amazing Flash handbag:

They’re having a closing down sale, but there’s not much left, so have a rummage ASAP.

Irregular Choice

Trainspotting to Trash Humper

One of the few downsides of leaving twitter was losing track of people that you don’t know, exactly, but whose posts and work you’ve come to appreciate as part of your ongoing diet of stuff.

One of those people was Chloe Maveal, who runs (ran?) The Gutter Review, which featured a lot of really good comics criticism, mainly around 2000AD. I didn’t see any updates in my RSS reader for a while and the site seems to have gone dark. You never know with online folk. Sometimes you don’t hear about them and it turns out they’re struggling and sometimes it turns out they’re doing really well.

Given that she’s now co-hosting an official 2000AD podcast, it seems that Chloe’s doing really well. I was very happy, though, when news came out of a new zine she had made.

Trash Humper ($5 on Gumroad) has two essays in it - one about the Trainspotting sequel, T2, which was serendipitous as I’ve found myself thinking about the film lately and the way it handles aging, memory and nostalgia. Although I’m finding sequels, prequels, franchises and “IP” to be horrendous concepts, there was something about T2 that seemed genuine and thoughtful. Perhaps sequels are only worthwhile when they’re shot decades later. I don’t think Richard Linklater’s Before films with Julie Delphy and Ethan Hawke are a franchise, but it has restored a bit of my faith in long-form episodic story telling. I think I just want the form to be longer and the gaps to be bigger than most producers would be willing to countenance. (I’m also thinking of Sally Wainwright’s Happy Valley, which took a seven year gap between series 2 and 3.) What I find so tiring about the desire for episodic content is its relentlessness - that there are always new episodes, that they must be released to a continual schedule, that you must consume or face being left behind.

The other essay in Trash Humper is about Peter Milligan, a comics writer I’ve somehow always managed to miss. I think I’ve got a week or two left on my DC Universe subscription, so I’ll see if I can look up some of his work, including Face, the somewhat grisly piece of body horror mentioned in the essay.

Anyway, the zine is good. I’ll admit that it’s scratching the very specific niches in my brain, but isn’t that what zines are for?

Buy Trash Humper: The One About Obsession, Heroin, and Choons on Gumroad

Dawn of Midi – Dysnomia

Well, it might appear that I only ever listen to music released by Erased Tapes, but that’s not true. (I also have a Radiohead playlist that I listen to when I’m writing!) I can’t deny that a lot of their releases are in areas I’m interested in - classical, electronic, minimalist, experimental-but-still-listenable.

I think I got an email newsletter from them today and looking for something led to me discovering Dawn of Midi’s Dysnomia, which is one of those acoustic records that has a very electronic feel – lots of of repetition, variation, elevation and evolution. As if that wasn’t enough, the whole album runs together like a DJ set. (If you play it using the bandcamp widget above, I’d recommend flipping back to track 1 to get the full effect.)

Dysnomia was released in 2015 and to my knowledge there hasn’t been anything else from the trio, which I sort of like as it adds to the specialness of the album. What I’ve read about the group suggests that this was meticulously created, but it feels like one long session done on the fly. I don’t usually like instrumental breakdowns in songs, band jams and there is nothing I would rather listen to less than a solo, but that feeling of improvising is capivating, even if it is a lie and the result of many, many hours of meticulous planning.

Buy Dysnomia by Dawn of Midi on Bandcamp

'The Poet' by Michael Connelly

Honestly, Michael Connelly books are kind of cheeseburgers for me. Even reading them occasionally is probably a bit too often. That said, we’re only human and sometimes a cheeseburger is exactly what you fancy.

While Bosch, The Lincoln Lawyer and now Ballard are the more well known characters, I always like thrillers with journalists as protagonists. Here, Jack McEvoy’s brother is a homicide detective who commits suicide… or does he? The reporter investigates and finds out that there’s more to this than meets the eye and so on and so on.

Really, I only mention it here because it came out in 1996 and it made me nostalgic for pre-internet technology. A major plot point centres around the use of a digital camera - an item so rare that it has to be ordered from a specialised dealer. Sending a fax from a computer is a key piece of evidence. McEvoy has a laptop computer and mentions it every chance he gets. There’s also a very unpleasant computer bulletin board system, which perhaps is a preview of the online horrors to come.

I don’t want to come across like a luddite - I’m posting this on the internet, after all - but there is something really soothing about not having an investigation based around looking things up online. As is often the case with these series of genre novels, there’s a little preview of another book in the series at the end of The Poet, set many years later and the protagonist goes on Instagram in the first twenty pages. Even our novels don’t have attention spans any more. I wonder how all this will date. I can’t help but think that the early 2010s stock line of dialogue, “It’s trending on twitter” will seem as hopelessly anachronistic as the 1990s thrillers that dedicated 30-40 seconds of screentime to a character using dialup internet. Perhaps we just need more time to pass and these things will seem cute and nostalgic.

Buy ‘The Poet’ by Michael Connelly at bookshop.org

I decided not to read 'Julia' by Sandra Newman

It might be good, but as an endeavour it feels like it’s moving us one step closer to the Orwell Cinematic Universe, and that’s something I can’t bring myself to contribute to, even with my time. (For the record, I’m not talking about a Burmese Days movie or the 1997 film adaptation of Keep The Aspidistra Flying, but rather the grim inevitability of a Winston Smith Jr. spin-off for young adults or a How I Became Big Brother prequel.)

I think my main reason for wanting to read it was a description of the novel-writing machines Julia works on, but in this instance it didn’t really scratch that itch.

Fiction was a vast and windowless factory floor that took up the first two basement storeys of the Ministry of Truth. The space was dominated by the plot machinery, eight mammoth machines that looked like simple boxes of shining metal. When you opened them up, their guts were a bewildering array of sensors and gears. Only Julia and her colleague Essie knew how to crawl around inside without doing damage. The central mechanism was the kaleidoscope. It had sixteen sets of claws that selected and transported plot elements; hundreds of metal sorts that were grabbed and discarded until a group was found that fit together. This successful pattern was assembled - again by machinery - on a magnetized plate. The plate was dipped into a tray of ink, then swivelled out and was stamped onto a roll of paper. The printed length of paper was cut away. A production manager lifted it free.

The result was a gridded print, jocularly called a 'bingo card', that coded the elements of a story: genre, main characters, major scenes. A Rewrite man had once attempted to explain to Julia how these were interpreted, but to no avail. Even after five years on the floor, to her they might as well have been Eastasian picture-writing.

Now she watched as a production manager snatched a new print off the roll and waved it about to dry the ink. When he was satisfied, he rolled it, inserted it in a green cylinder, and shoved the cylinder into a pneumatic tube. From up on the walkway, Julia could watch the cylinder's flight through a tangle of translucent plastic hoses on the ceiling to plop into a bin at the southern end of the room. That was Rewrite, where men and women sat in long rows, muttering into speakwrites, turning bingo cards into novels and stories. But by that stage, no machines were involved and Julia's interest was at an end.

Which, I suppose, is the most logical way of constructing a novel-writing machine, but it just producing a ‘bingo card’ of plot feels disappointing. It kind of speaks to the problem with prequels, in that they have to provide mundane answers for casually mentioned things that fire a reader or viewer’s imagination. How exciting and mysterious did ‘the clone wars’ sound in Star Wars and how boring was George Lucas’s version of it in the prequels?

OK, when it’s got to the point of complaining about the Star Wars prequels, it’s time to wrap it up. Julia is going back to the library. If you’ve read it, I’d be interested to hear your thoughts.

Buy ‘Julia’ by Sandra Newman at bookshop.org (affiliate link)

'The Charisma Machine: The Life, Death and Legacy of One Laptop per Child' by Morgan G. Ames

I was always fascinated by the One Laptop Per Child programme, both from an ideological point of view and as a piece of industrial design. I was never really convinced by the founders’ notion that cheap computers were the developing world’s path out of poverty, thinking that things like schools and clean drinking water were more of a priority. But the fact that it was so different a priority meant I tried to understand where they were coming from.

This study of the project takes the view that it was flawed from the outset, that the project leaders used their own, relatively privileged backgrounds, as justification for the project, without any real understanding of the actual social and economic factors at play. Put simply, they had prospered with computers, so thought that everyone else would, too. The author frames this as the archetype of the ‘technically precocious boy’ – a category I always thought I fit into when I was younger, until I met people who were actual examples. Being able to run a word processor on an Amstrad CPC wasn’t the same thing.

Anyway, this is largely an academic text, which brings with it some problems. The first of these is that it has a specific argument - that ‘charismatic’ technology is attractive and exciting, but often so much so that it blinds people to its actual utility or lack thereof - and goes about showing examples of its theory at work. If you’re studying the use of new technology in economically depressed environments, it’s useful to have case studies like these, but I honestly wanted a more general overview of the project. I’m a layperson, craving details about the organisation of the project and particularly the design process. Perhaps that’s the technically precocious boy inside me.

Adi Robertson had a good article on The Verge, giving a big-picture overview, but I would have liked more detail. I also would really still like to have a go on one. There’s an online emulator for its Sugar operating system and from the sounds it, the XO laptop had a number of recurrent hardware faults. Still, as the article says at the end, “I’ve still never seen anything like it.”

'The Charisma Machine: The Life, Death and Legacy of One Laptop per Child' by Morgan G. Ames is published by MIT Press (I got my copy off eBay, though)