Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Silk Stocking (2004)

     Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Silk Stocking (2004) [D: Simon Cellan Jones. Rupert Everett, Ian Hart] Written by Allan Cubitt, “based on” a story by Doyle, this is a good entry in the Holmes adaptations. The Doyle connection is the use of twins, but other than that, the story is original, and like many extensions of the Doyle canon, goes its own way. The test of its success is not faithfulness to the originals but plausibility of characters and setting. I think this aspect was well done.
     After the series with Simon Brett, it was difficult to create a plausible variation on Holmes. This one is softer and moodier, with hints of unfulfilled desires and deeper neuroses than Doyle’s character. The story itself, set in Edwardian England, uses new psychological insights to construct both Holmes’s character and the crime, which is serial killing. As a crime puzzle, the plot is so-so, relying on finger-printing and the insights of Watson’s fiancée, an American psychiatrist. Lestrade (played by Neil Dudgeon) is an up-to-date copper, his only failing is his bafflement when faced by perverse motivations for crime. Watson is more assertive and skilled as Holmes’s sidekick and assistant, and Holmes’s addiction both slows him down and puts him in a dream state that enables access to his subconscious insights. He’s not the cold, clear logic engine that Doyle’s admirers profess to see, and makes an almost lethal mistake.
     The online reviews are generally either positive or negative. Look on IMDb if you want to see the range of opinions.
     Overall, I liked this movie. It lacks the nervous energy of the Simon Brett versions, and the pace and complexity of the Cumberbatch ones. But it’s worth a look by anyone who likes Holmes. I give it **½.

Stephen W. Hawking. The Theory of Everything (2002)

     Stephen W. Hawking. The Theory of Everything (2002) Originally published as The Cambridge Lectures: Life Works in 1996. The title is a sly joke: Hawking is not offering a grand unified theory, but an  account of “The Origin and Fate of the Universe”.
     There have been a few advances or improvements in that account since he wrote it. There’s now definite evidence of the Higgs boson, which will add to the detail of the first few femtoseconds of the Universe’s existence. Some progress has been made in deducing the state of the universe while it was still a dense opaque soup of elementary particles and energy quanta, before it became transparent. The notion of a singularity at the inception of time as we know it is being modified: it may be sensible to talk of a time before our universe’s expansion from almost nothing, but any information from that time is inaccessible. But these are details: the grand picture is the same now as it has been for a couple of decades: our universe (or our bit of it) began in an unimaginably dense region which expanded very rapidly in a few seconds, and has been expanding much more slowly ever since. It will likely continue to expand “forever”,  which makes one think about what that term may mean.
      Hawking writes concisely, his disability forces him to choose his words carefully. He has a lovely sly sense of humour, noticing sideways and loopy connections between what he’s saying about abstract models and the actual life we live. It feels good to think that he’s managed to remain cheerful despite the ravages of ALS.
     Cosmology is an iffy science. It’s essentially speculative. Models are proposed, they are massaged until they produce some prediction, and the experimentalists and observers look for matches. Matches winnow the number of candidates, and may suggest new ones. Since sometime around the 1970s, cosmologists have included quantum physics (QP) in their models, Hawking chief among them. (He’s very careful to give credit where it’s due, and to admit his errors and oversights). Including QP raises some questions.
     There is a temptation to interpret models as pictures of reality, to use them as justifications of claims about what reality is. But QP is notorious for prompting incompatible or metaphysically absurd interpretations. Is our universe one among hugely many in a multiverse? Is the number of universes increasing because random bubbles in space-time appear and expand, or do human choices have something to do with it? There is no way, absent more complete models, to arbitrate between the answers. But I doubt that more complete models will do away with such interpretations. The reason is the way physicists talk about reality.
      What many physicists say about what QP tells us about “reality” suggests to me that they forget that they are talking about models. A scientific theory is a model of reality, it’s not reality. The experimenter tries to simplify the interaction as much as possible, on the assumption is that simplification will reveal some essential properties of the observed object. And that is certainly the case. But there is an additional assumption: that an object is some kind of stable combination of its properties. I think this is a misleading assumption. All we can know of any object is our interactions with it. The uncertainties intrinsic to QP are uncertainties about what we are able to know about those interactions. To put it bluntly: Observations are interactions. An object is the history of our interactions with it.
     For example, I don’t think it makes sense to say that photons are somehow both waves and particles, some weird combination of what we see on the surface of a pond and what we see on the surface of a billiard table. It does make sense to say that their behavior is like that of a wave or that of a particle, depending on how we interact with them. They may even exhibit both behaviours in some situations.  Someone has even invented the term “wavicle”, kinda cute. It’s that dual behaviour which persuades some people that photons are somehow both wave and particle.
     But it doesn’t persuade me. I’d rather say that we can’t imagine an object that is both wave and particle, the best we can do is use wave and particle mathematics to describe and predict the behaviour of photons. Just what a photon is in and of itself is a meaningless question.  “Wavicle” is a gap-filling belief.
     The same can be said of our theories of the universe. Mathematics is a wonderfully precise language for describing and predicting our interactions with the world. But to think that these descriptions are anything more than that is I think a  delusion.
     Read Hawking’s book. It’s a bit outdated, but it’s an easy read for anyone who’s kept up with cosmology, and a not too difficult introduction for the newcomer. It lacks diagrams, a minor fault. ***½

Louis L’Amour. Dutchman’s Flat (1986)

     Louis L’Amour. Dutchman’s Flat (1986) L’Amour published this collection of short stories to counter want he saw as an unwarranted infringement on his rights as an author. Apparently, another collection of his short stories had been published by their copyright holder. This annoyed L’Amour, who was jealous of his reputation. So he added a few stories to the list and published this collection with Foreword and Author’s Notes. Most of the stories are nice bite-sized pieces, well crafted with tight plots, and just enough setting and characterisation to draw you in for the 10 or 15 minutes it takes to read them. There’s also a novella, which I skipped.
     L’Amour often ends his stories with the hero settling down with a good woman on good land. He tends to idealise the women, but presents them as tough, self-confident, and independent. It’s pretty clear that the women choose the men, not the other way round. Whether this is L’Amour’s experience or some instinctive inclusion of the courtly love tropes in his stories is a moot point.  But his heroes are definitely knights errant in western dress.
     L’Amour is a conscious story-teller. Although he romanticises the West, he wants the reader to know that his tales are based on fact. Still, they are essentially quest romances with a more realistic setting than most. A good read. ** to ***.

Anon. Chivalry, The Path of Love (1994)

     Anon. Chivalry, The Path of Love (1994) This is one of those little gift books that are assembled, not written, a scrapbook of lore that one gives to people when one doesn’t know what else to give them. It contains a number of nicely chosen and well-printed illustrations and a potted history of the Code of Chivalry and Courtly Love. It alludes to the darker side of gender relations in the Middle Ages, and gives a quick once-over of the evolution of what was essentially a convention of fiction and poetry into a code of manners and eventually an ideal that people still admire and which underpins our present-day notions of secular virtues. It does hint at the more complex meanings coded into courtly love poetry, and so may well trigger an urge to research this rather curious feature of our civilisation. The only author credit is for the introduction, by Jeremy Catto, Fellow of Oriel College. It’s better made than most such gift books, both as a physical object and as a source of information. **½

Frozen (2013)

      Frozen (2013)[D: Chris Buck & Jennifer Lee. Kristen Bell, Idina Menzel, Jonathan Groff] Anna and Elsa are sisters, but Elsa’s magical powers almost kill Anna, and her fear of doing worse damage leads her to withdraw from the world. When she is to be crowned, Elsa causes a permanent winter. Panic-stricken, she flees to the mountains where she builds palace of ice. Anna must find her and persuade her to return to lift the cold spell, which she does. A cad of a Prince Charming who wants the throne for himself alone, and Kristoff, a nice-guy reindeer-owning ice-man, provide the romantic and political complications. Some nice wise trolls who love romance increase the necessary comic touches. In the end, Anna sacrifices herself, which cures Elsa of her bad magic, but Anna revives, and she and Kristoff pair up.
     That’s more or less the plot, do we get a good movie out of it? Yes and no. It’s competently animated and nicely voiced, but doesn’t exactly grab you and immerse you in its world. It provides a nice 100-odd minutes of entertainment, but that’s all. How would I improve it? I’d cut back on the special-effects style of magic, and take a closer look at the dark side. The central trope, the sister bond, is worth more subtle treatment. As it is, the movie works for tweens and younger audiences, but doesn’t give their parents and other older relatives much to chew on. **½

Simon Schama. A History of Britain: On the Edge of the World (2000)

    Simon Schama. A History of Britain: On the Edge of the World (2000) This is not “companion volume” to the TV series that Schama did, although it was written at the same time as the scripts. I saw th series, and much of the language is the same, but much of what was shown on screen is here described. Schama, wisely I think, focusses on the story, not the pictures. All the same, page references to the illustrations and placement of the pictures next to the text they illustrate would be welcome.
     And that’s about the only cavil I have.
     Schama here takes us from the earliest times when “Britain” makes some kind of sense as a label, through Roman occupation, to Elizabeth’s reign, a time when the effects of the civil and religious wars played themselves out into a kind of resolution. During that time, family feuds caused crises of loyalty and nearly destroyed civil order, then Henry VIII’s need for a male heir created a bloody compound of religion and politics. Elizabeth’s reign brought a resolution of the religious conflict, and the focus began to shift to the relationship between Crown and People, a focus that caused another round of conflicts, which have taken several centuries to resolve. That resolution we are pleased to call “democracy”, and for the time being at least, that’s a cluster of values and institutions that doesn’t so much guarantee stability as a somewhat less bloody means of mending quarrels. But the path to that state is the subject of the next book in Schama’s series.
     Schama is one of the great synthesisers, he can consolidate a vast mass of detail into a coherent narrative. History’s narratives are necessarily tendentious, the trick is to use a theme or collection of motifs to organise the material without turning it into propaganda. Schama does this better than most, I think, because he reminds us that he’s constructed his story from extant documents, whose preservation is partly a matter of policy, and partly pure accident. By telling the story in terms of individuals, he shows both that individual decisions do affect the flow of history, and also that those decisions are contingent on and constrained by circumstances.
     For example, Elizabeth would not have had to face the decision to kill a fellow Prince if Mary, Queen of Scots, hadn’t been such a flibbertigibbet, less concerned with her duties than her “liberty”, which she seems to have thought of as licence to do as she pleased. It was this flaw in her character that led her to marry Darnley and to flaunting her Catholicism, both of which annoyed the Scots Lords, and gave Bothwell the excuse he wanted to aim at the crown. A sorry mess of crimes and failed hard choices followed. Mary was imprisoned in all but name, and became the focus of Catholic anti-Elizabethan plots. Elizabeth really did have to neutralise the threat, but she was unwilling to make hard choices herself, and so left the removal of Mary up to Walsingham, who had no compunction about arranging entrapment and a show trial. Elizabeth dithered about signing the warrant for Mary’s execution, but did so in the end, and regretted bitterly having to do it.
     Throughout the book, Schama shows us how people did or not do what they had to do, how they usually did the best they could according to their values and philosophies, and how character inevitably shifts the choices one way rather than another.
    History, someone said, is just one damn thing after another. Yes, but we can at least in principle if not in practice trace the causes of what’s happened, however difficult prediction would have been. We rarely have sufficient data to allow more than a more or less likely explication. But whenever they can, people choose the path that seems to give them most control by seeming to lead them where they want to go. Nobody likes to be faced with  choices none of which allow at least the illusion of control. Understanding how the choices looked to the people who made them helps us understand why things were done, and so helps us make sense of the past. Schama does this very well. I’m looking forward to reading the next volume. Recommended as one of the best popular histories available. ****

Michael J. Fox. Always Looking Up (2009)

 

    Michael J. Fox. Always Looking Up (2009) I heard Fox speak at an Ontario Hospital Association Health Achieve convention in 2011. He was impressive, clearly affected by his Parkinson’s disease, yet coping well. I don’t know what his current (2026) condition is, but since we haven’t heard much about him in the last year or so, I surmise that the Parkinson’s has progressed beyond the effectiveness of the drugs and other measures Fox has used to keep it in check.
     Fox came across as a man who has come to terms with his life, and is using his talents and his treasure to live that life as well as he can. His courage, his good humour, his awareness of the effects of his twitching and blank-outs and other symptoms of Parkinson’s, combined to make us believe that no matter how bad things seem, there are ways to live a full and satisfying life. He calls himself an incurable optimist. He knows that the odds of finding a cure in time to prevent the last ravages of the disease are remote, but he supports research anyhow. He’s set up a foundation to support Parkinson’s research and related activities. This has become his work.
     Parkinson’s is one of those degenerative diseases that we don’t like to think about. It makes us avert our eyes, it whispers “This is all you are: a bundle of flesh and bone and skin and a few curious organs, any one of which can break down and rob you not only of your well-being but of your self. You won’t ever be the same again.”
     Fox has tried to remain the same. His optimism, as he calls it, has sustained him. He knows the value of family, of friends, of hope. He knows that he must work hard to maintain something like a normal life, but his very existence reminds us that “normal” is a comforting illusion. Objectively, it’s merely the collection of average traits. Psychologically, it’s the notion that we are what we are supposed to be. But who of us is?
     I started reading this book to remind me of the impression that Fox made in his presentation. It does that very well. I didn’t read it all, I don’t need to know all the details of Fox’s life as told here. I like his work in TV, and I like the person he was in 2011 and in this book even more. His style is personal, you think you’re listening to him talk to you. He says many wise things incidentally, such as “...investing time in the political process is an expression of hope”. The cynic might say it’s a forlorn hope, but not Fox. He’s not ideological, he’s pragmatic, an attitude that sustains one’s political hopes despite the crazies who appropriate political dialogue.
    There’s a lot of information online about him and the Foundation. ***