Sid Fleischman. The Whipping Boy (1986)

     Sid Fleischman. The Whipping Boy (1986) Jemmy is Prince Brat’s whipping boy. Since he’s whipped when Brat doesn’t do his lessons, Jemmy learns reading, arithmetic, history, and so on. One day, bored, Brat forces Jemmy to run away with him.  They’re kidnapped by two highwaymen, escape down a sewer, are rescued by a girl with pet dancing bear, and so on. Brat slowly grows from a spoiled little slime ball into a friend. He even endures a whipping without a whimper, as Jemmy has done. When they return, Brat talks to his father, who decides not to punish Jemmy. So all’s well etc.
     Well written, swift moving story. Jemmy is an engaging narrator, unwillingly loyal to his master. **½

Oliver Sacks. On the Move (2015)

     Oliver Sacks. On the Move (2015) Sacks is one of my heroes, so I approached this memoir prepared to like it, and for the most part I did. Here and there Sacks gives us not much more than a list of events, but the rest of the book more than makes up for those rare longeurs. Reading his books may leave the impression that Sacks has had a straightforward career in clinical neurology, with many side trips following his passions and puzzlements. In fact, chance and the kindness of strangers had more to do with his success than focus and persistence. He became a neurologist because his mentors provided shelter and opportunities to practice when he had no regular position at the hospitals in which he learned his trade.
     He’s a man with a huge range of interests, variable enough that I wonder what’s the common thread that ties them together. I think it’s his willingness to satisfy his curiosity, no matter where it leads. Sometimes these trails transform into books, about cycads, his broken leg and recovery from a neurological side-effect, autism, and so on, but most of all about his patients. He’s remarkably lacking in caution, for example, he experimented with drugs in California, and for a while was addicted.
     He’s an inveterate diarist. He includes a photo of himself at the Amsterdam train station, his briefcase and umbrella on the ground in front of him, writing. I think that’s why his books are not neutral records but  personal experiences. He understands by imagining himself as the patient; journal writing feeds the imagination by recording memories.
     He had the luck to find his profession during its formative phase, when it was still unclear just how much could be known and understood about the brain and its glitches and injuries. And he trusts his skill in observation and knows his inability to abstract and generalise, hence recorded his cases as stories, not mere accumulations of data. I think this is the reason his books have become so popular, and have helped so many people. After each book he has received letters from people with similar problems, telling him how they understood themselves better.
     I enjoyed this book, reading most of it in three major sessions. If you like Oliver Sacks, this book is essential. Otherwise, it’s a remarkable record of a remarkable life lived during some of the most remarkable changes in our society and culture. By the way, Sacks really likes motorbikes, and spent a good deal of his time in California riding. He also won a weightlifting championship. His Uncle Tungsten records his life as a chemist. Like I said, he’s a man of widely variable interests. ***½

M. C. Beaton. The Potted Gardener. (1994)

     M. C. Beaton. The Potted Gardener. (1994) Agatha Raisin returns from an extended, but lonely, holiday, to find the glamourous divorcee Mary Fortune ensconced as the most popular incomer to the Village of Carsley. She’s also James Lacey’s friend (later, she’s revealed as his paramour), which turns Agatha against her. Mary has an unfortunate habit of saying cruel things to people, and gazing at them with a look that screams superiority. James and Agatha discover her body in the conservatory, upside down with her head buried in a large pot. They of course embark on spot of sleuthing. The perp suicides when he’s unmasked, handy, because there’s precious little evidence of the kind that would convince a judge or jury.
     The writing is low-average, much of it is tell rather than show, and too often Beaton informs the reader of some character's reaction that the reader has already sussed. Still, I engaged with the characters enough to keep reading, perhaps because Agatha is a 50ish, plumpish woman with romantic yearnings. James is a bit of a stick, afraid of his own emotions, and after his “competent” affair with Mary, ashamed of his lust, uncertain whether his feelings are honourable enough to justify a closer relationship with Agatha.
     But those remarks are already at the level of interpreting the characters for the purposes of scripting a TV series. The novel is not nearly as complex as such remarks imply, more’s the pity. **

Update 2023: A TV series was attempted, but Agatha was presented as a glamorous ex-PR type with a fondness for red high heels. Not Beaton's Agatha at all, more's the pity.

Gary Larson. Wiener Dog Art (1990)

     Gary Larson. Wiener Dog Art (1990) If you like Larson, you’ll be happy to reread this. If you’ve not encountered Larson yet, this is as good an intro as any. If you don’t like Larson, it’s an opportunity for small delights lost. I like Larson’s work a lot. A search on “Gary Larson cartoons” will bring up a good sample of his work. ****

Inside Out (2015)

     Inside Out (2015) [Director: Pete Docter, Ronaldo Del Carmen. Amy Poehler, Bill Hader, Lewis Black et al] 11-year-old Riley is moved from Minnesota (and hockey) to San Francisco (and home sickness) by her family. The parents have their own problems, delayed moving van etc, so don’t notice Riley’s sadness. Riley herself can’t allow herself to be sad, she must be “happy”, so she runs away. But it’s her sadness that brings her back home, where she cries, and the family unite in comforting each other. Simple story, the movie complicates it by showing five emotions (Joy, Fear, Anger, Disgust, and Sadness) as controlling Riley’s perceptions, action, and relationships. Depicting that emotions are us was the aim of the moviemakers. The question is did they succeed?
     Yes and no. The switching between inside and outside was generally well done, one didn’t lose track of the story. The characterisation was a bit off, Joy was too bubbly-obtuse, Anger was merely hostility instead of focussed on unfairness, Disgust was too much of a fashion queen, Fear was a nerdy drip, and Sadness was dumpy, shy, passive, and lacking in confidence. She was actually the most complicated character. The animation was very well done, the design was stereotypical Disney, the conceptualisation of the different aspects of mind and self veered from the silly (Imaginationland misrepresented that most central cognitive faculty) to the poignantly nuanced (the pit of forgotten memories).
    “Piecey” Marie said, she’s right. Overall, a good attempt at doing an inherently difficulty job. The personalisation of mental faculties has an ancient history, the literary term is psyhcomachia. Interesting to see modern version. I think the desire to make the movie accessible to all age groups caused much of the variation in quality. The audience reaction indicated that the children followed the story easily, and if my response was typical, the adults read a more complex narrative. See the New York Times article by the scientific advisors. **½

Rex Stout. Some Buried Caesar (1938)

     Rex Stout. Some Buried Caesar (1938) Archie drives Wolfe to upstate New York for an orchid competition at an agricultural fair. A tire blows, and they end up in a field with a bull. That bull is the focus of a feud between Pratt, its current owner, and Osgoode, his neighbour, whose stable hand he was before he became a restaurateur. Then Osgoode’s son is murdered, apparently gored by the bull; and a second murder with a pitchfork is done at the agricultural fair while Wolfe is exhibiting his orchids. And so on. Wolfe is his usual irritating self, Archie meets Lily Rowan for the first time, and the jealousies and intrigues of Guernsey breeders are exhibited for our fascinated gaze. These people are serious; murder may be a plausible solution.
     There have been attempts at transposing Wolfe from print to video, apparently not very successfully. I think it’s Stout’s style. He’s a very good writer. The dialogue would work very well as is, but the ambience would be very difficult to do visually. The tales a funny-noir, a genre that’s very tough to pull off.
     An early Nero Wolfe story, a couple or three hours of well done entertainment. **½

St John's Night

   In Austria, a large fire was kindled on St John's Night. People ran and jumped through the flames. Some couples did so, too, I think it was supposed to confirm their union and make it last forever. Many years ago, I wrote a poem about it. I've posted it on the Stories page.