Unintended consequences: Noninterference (Harry Turtledove)

 

Harry Turtledove. Noninterference (19881). The Federation Survey Service is surveying Bilbeis IV. The local ruler, a woman of remarkable character, is dying of cancer. The Terrans decide to give her “immune system amplifiers”. The Bilbeis biology is close enough to human for the drug to work, but different enough to have unforeseen consequences. Those consequences and their effects provide the bones of the plot. Turtledove adds convincing characters and sociological insights to make a well-constructed entertainment that also asks serious questions about governance, polity, bureaucracy, historical hinge points, and of course the effects of individual quirks on other people’s plans.
     Turtledove is also known for alternate histories and historical fiction. His Wiki bibliography lists an enormous number of books. This one I  rate well above average for the genre: ***

Two for the Price of One: Robinson's Piece of My Heart

 Peter Robinson. Piece of My Heart (2006) Two linked crimes, separated by forty years. A rock band that figures in both. Two cops, Inspector Chadwick, the damaged army vet who investigates the first one, and DCI Alan Banks, who investigates the second one and establishes the links. Justice of a sort is achieved, but moral and legal guilt and innocence are not the same. Banks and Annie continue their adjustment to each other as friends and colleagues. A new, careerist Superintendent causes grief. Family dysfunction slows and complicates both investigations. Robinson plots and writes competently, as usual, with fewer of the puppet strings visible. Still, he could have done with a sterner editor, who would have pruned the lists of pop-music trivia. Or maybe not. **½

 

Early Bloomers

 Early bloomers (in our garden today).

 Violets, Primulas, Bloodroot (sanguinaria canadensis) and Berginia  (sp. cordifolia.)

 

 

The Great Dictator (1940) [D: Charlie Chaplin. Charlie Chaplin, Paulette Goddard) An overrated film. The satire works very well, especially since Chaplin has sussed that Hynkel-Hitler was the empty puppet of his impulses. But Chaplin can’t resist inserting slapstick and farce, which interferes with the developing terror. The Brown Shirts may have been buffoons, but their buffoonery killed people. Chaplin shies away from following the logic of his plot to its dark conclusion. The final scene, obviously meant to be a stirring call to arms against tyranny, turns the plot into sentimental farce. Satire is allied to tragedy, and doesn’t need a happy ending to make its point. But perhaps the American audiences of 1940 preferred to laugh at slapdash tyrant instead of considering the moral imperative laid on them by recognising evil.
    I watched this movie because of its reputation. It’s become a curio, important for its historical significance. It did help mobilise American opinion against Hitler. But it's also an example of the muddled mess that Chaplin was capable of producing when not restrained by a strong director. A mixture of inspired satire, slapstick, and comedy, but that’s all, a mixture. The movie doesn’t have the structure that I expected. It’s a series of set pieces loosely strung on an underdeveloped plot line. Too often, I got the impression that Chaplin was showing off, or relying on his audience recognising a shtick he’d used many, many times before. **

Dr. no? Yes, it's the first 007 movie

    Dr. No (1962) [D: Terence Young. Sean Connery, Ursula Andress, Joseph Wiseman, Jack Lord] Well, I’ve finally watched this historically significant curio, almost 50 years after it was made. The very first James Bond film.
    It’s tedious, badly acted, poorly scripted, with uneven photography and far too much ominous music. It begins with three blind men wandering into the parking lot of a posh Jamaican hotel, where they murder an MI6 operative. The same crew then murder an MI6 radio operator. Bond is enjoying baccarat at a casino (what is it with casinos, that they’re supposed to signal sophistication and world-weary elegance?) when the call comes to report for a new mission, which ends with the death of Dr. No when his island retreat blows up.
     The production values are merely average, nowhere near the carefully imagined and designed sets we associate with 007. But then, nobody thought this movie would launch one of the longest running super-hero franchises ever. For James Bond is a super-hero, even if he bleeds occasionally. Connery is especially bad, I suspect the director didn’t think it worth the bother of providing actual direction.
     I can’t recall how many of the series I’ve seen. The first one was To Russia, With Love, and then Goldfinger. Looking at the Wiki list, I ecognise Thunderball, and Moonraker. Maybe I saw Casino Royale. In any case, Connery became a much better actor, well aware of his limited range, and collaborating with his directors in exploiting it expertly. I think Indiana Jones’ father was his best role. I think Roger Moore was the best of the other Bonds, none of whom I think measured up to what Connery eventually made of the role.
    You can find out all you want to know, and more, on Wikipedia. If you’ve never seen Dr. No, I think it’s worth a look merely because it’s such an awful introduction to the franchise. By the way, I tried to read one of Fleming’s novels once, couldn’t get past the first dozen pages or so. On that evidence, even this movie is better than anything Fleming produced. *½

Aftermath all over again: Robinson's Friend of the Devil

Peter Robinson. Friend of the Devil (2007) Some years after the serial killings related in Aftermath, the murder of a disabled woman reopens that case. The aftermath continues. Annie Cabbot has been seconded to the neighbouring police district, so it’s her case. Meanwhile, a gruesome rape and murder in Eastvale occupies Banks. The two cases converge (of course), and end successfully, if revelation of the perpetrators can be considered a success. The costs of that success are, as usual with Robinson, appalling.
     I read this book over about a week, which tells you that either Robinson’s page-turning plotting isn’t working as well, or that I’ve become jaded. Or both. This book was adapted for one of the TV series episodes, so it felt vaguely familiar, but I watched the video too long ago to compare it to the book. For Robinson fans, another satisfying read, for other crime fiction fans not the best introduction. **½

Academic Exercises: Short stories

 

 Glimmer Train #47 (2003) A journal of short stories founded Linda Swanson-Davies and her sister, Susan Burmeister-Brown, appearing from 1990 to 2011. I can’t recall how I came by this copy. I didn’t read all the stories, though I sampled every one. The author bios almost all mention a BFA or similar academic qualifications, which makes it a sample of what University writing programs produce. My take: Interesting, but by and large too self-consciously “engaged” with whatever theses the authors could derive from their tales. Carefully constructed, they attempt to give meaning to the lives of ordinary people caught in the web of ordinary life.
     But too often, you see the cogs being carefully assembled into a gear-train, and the crank beginning to churn the contraption. Too often, I didn’t want to know more about the characters than the first few paragraphs told me. Too often, the near total avoidance of plot (ie, of the intersection between a character’s decisions and the random events that make up reality) meant I didn’t want to know what happened next, let alone how the characters coped with it. For even if life is a tale told by an idiot, the sound and fury do signify.
     The first story The Accident, or the Embrace is one of two stories that took me into their world. Beginning with an accident in which a boy loses his leg, it ends with a discreet menage a trois (so discreet, it’s unclear if the husband knows he’s part of it). Midnight Bowling is told by a girl who manages to escape her mother’s plans for a religious life with her new man (married, hence adulterous, but a self-proclaimed Christian). She hides her intentions from her mother, and hides a good deal of what she know or suspects from the reader, who must tease together the few bits of the puzzle that suggest what’s missing from explicit telling.
     The collection’s interesting as much for what it reveals about the esthetic and craft standards of academic writing programs as for the tales themselves. I felt the writers knew what they wanted to achieve, but didn’t know why it might be worth achieving. Entertainment? Demonstration of narrative skill? Revelation of some overlooked aspect of being human? I can’t tell. They wrote good stories, but not memorable ones. **