Nancy Mitford Amuses

 Nancy Mitford Don’t Tell Alfred (1960) Mitford’s last novel, in which she revisits some of the characters of Love in a Cold Climate. Whitehall appoints Fanny Wincham’s husband Alfred Ambassador to France, first making him a Sir. Their children, her niece, assorted other relatives and friends, as well as a handful of French politicians, cause a variety of tangles, which Alfred and fate must unknot. Mostly fate. The result is a nicely done airport book, the kind that amuses and entertains, but requires no close attention to plot.
     The dialogue carries most of the story, which is really a long shaggy dog anecdote.  Mitford slings in some less-than-sly digs at the English and French, modern child-rearing, pop-culture, tabloids and their owners, and gormless idealism. The spice of satire enlivens what would otherwise be a rather bland dish. I enjoyed the book, not a page turner, more of a bowl of noshes to dip into. It did trigger a desire to reread Love in a Cold Climate and Cold Comfort Farm, which I’ve so far been able to resist. **½

Model Railroad Nostalgia: Classic Articles from Model Railroader

[Kalmbach Publishing] Classic Articles from Model Railroader. (1980) Begins with A. C. Kalmbach’s 1936 story about his own layout, and ends with a 1964 review of “OOO scale”, which soon after became N scale. In between we get Frank Ellison’s story about operating on his Delta Lines, John Allen on weathering, Linn Westcott on eliminating derailments, Jack work on building an HOn3 caboose, etc. The selections amount to a history of model railroading, including its increasing contrast with railroad modelling. A salutary reminder of the difficulties of working with paints that might dissolve each other, the lack of detail parts, the need to kluge scenery from plaster, dry colour, weeds, varnish etc. And a nostalgia kick for anyone who was around in those days, for whom Ellison and Armstrong’s emphasis on layouts designed for operation was a revelation. Worth picking up if you find a copy. ****

Mitchell's Layouts: mentored by Ellson and Armstrong

     Don Mitchell. Walkaround Model Railroad Track Plans (1991) Don Mitchell’s track plans showed up not only in Model Railroader but also in the NMRA Bulletin and other magazines. He emulated both John Armstrong and Frank Ellison, and occasionally mentions them as mentors. He begins with ergonomic constraints, such as typical reach, and discusses principles of layout design entailed by giving his clients what they wanted. Thus a few of these layouts are for the train watcher, but most are for operators, or those who just want to watch trains occasionally when operation doesn’t appeal.
     All the layouts were designed for specific spaces, so they also show what can be done when nooks and crannies and stairs and furnaces and other obstacles force compromises. The smallest, the Oakville Central, is 37" x 70", to fit under a bed. It’s an oval with a short runaround track, a small yard, and a bunch of industrial spurs. It does nicely as inspiration for an N scale layout-on-a-door (a once popular style), which would allow a couple of passing sidings, and additional yard track or two, more spurs, and (most desirable) a more expansive scenic effect
     The largest design is for the San Diego Model Railroad Museum. It’s more of a guideline,  

showing a carefully arranged mainline depicting Tehachapi Pass, with both operator and public viewing spaces on three levels. The yards, industrial switching areas, etc, are left up to future development. The design supposes phased construction, so that something worth displaying can be created quickly, and the extensions into the rest of the display space can wait for revived enthusiasm and renewed funding. The Wiki article about the Museum doesn’t mention Mitchell, and the existence of several other layouts suggests that only phase one of his design (the pass itself) was built.
     Most of Mitchell’s designs are for fairly large spaces, half a basement or garage. He prefers lobes accessible from both sides, but accepts the occasional need for pop-up or rear access. He likes eye-level or higher backdrops to help focus attention, and mentions the need for adequate ventilation. In discussing operating scenarios, he had to consider the limitations of DC control systems; many of his designs would be a joy to run with DCC. His style is less personal than Armstrong’s and Ellison’s, but he does allow himself an occasional pun. A book worth studying. ***

A Matter of WHO: hunt for disease carrier (Movie)

A Matter of Who (1961) [D: Don Chaffey. Terry-Thomas, Sonja Ziemann, Alex Nicol] A case of small-pox arriving in London on an international flight triggers an international hunt for the source. Terry-Thomas plays the Health Department investigator working on behalf of the WHO, which makes the title an overly cute pun.

     The hunt forms the spine of the plot. Crooked oil-deal shenanigans, politics, love, etc complicate the story and add the thrills the audience expects. There’s even a helicopter. Fun and games, and a satisfying ending. Terry Thomas for once tones down his mad-cap eccentric character, the rest of the cast play their stereotypes well, the photography and music are unintrusive so we can focus on the story, such as it is.
     Later treatments of the dangerous disease theme focus on the work of containing it, etc. Here, the most interesting bits for me were the ones that showed how the disease-containment work was being done. 1961 was still culturally the 1950s, and the movie-makers of the time didn’t trust the audience to accept a quasi-documentary film, so they added the spice of intrigue and crime. An OK hour and a half of entertainment, with subtexts relevant for our covid-19 times. **

Photography's history in pictures

Julia van Haaffen. From Talbot to Stieglitz (1982) A survey of the photography collection held by the New York Public Library. I skimmed and sampled the text, which appears to be a thorough if brief history of photography’s first century or so. The well-printed plates will give the casual reader a good overview of how photographers learned to exploit the medium. As the technology improved, so did the range. Photography has I think become the dominant medium. No matter what the medium used, the maker now must take into account what photographers have done with similar contents, compositions, or intentions.
     Photography reduced the price of pictures, which in turn changed the way we use them. The first major use was recording and documenting, which enabled the spread of at least visual knowledge of the world beyond the viewer’s immediate surroundings. This continues in, for example, our reliance on video and still imagery to bring us the daily and hourly news, which in turn affects our political and economic decisions in ways we are hardly aware of.
     Recording the family was once the preserve of those rich enough to pay a painter to paint their portraits. By the nineteenth century’s third quarter, most people could afford to have their pictures taken at least once in their lifetimes. This aspect, too, continues, multiplied a billionfold by posting our “status updates” on the social media.
     It took a little while longer for photographers to understand the artistic possibilities of the medium. From the beginning, photographers cannibalised the other mediums and genres, and in return showed how content and composition of the images could be manipulated in new ways, which other artists adapted to other media.
     Photography’s improving technology eventually reduced the skilled craft component of image making, and so shifted attention to the content and composition of the images. We now expect all art to be first and foremost an image, and only secondarily an example of craft skill. Or rather, we now expect the image maker’s skill to show in the composition and content of the image, not in the manipulation of the materials that go into its making. We also expect the image to somehow express its maker’s personal point of view, which may even be more significant than any depicted content. Or perhaps better, which may give significance to content that would otherwise be ignored, overlooked, or misunderstood.
     All this and more will I think occur to anyone who looks at the pictures in this book. ***

The Martians are Coming, the Martians are Coming!

Frederik Pohl. The Day the Martians Came (1988) So the first fully staffed expedition to Mars accidentally discovers Martians, who live underground in tunnels that their ancestors must have built. That’s the first chapter in a series of tales that show how humans, well, Americans mostly, react to the news. Everyone is out for a buck or some other advantage. The Martians look somewhat like seals with more leg-like flippers. They like to huddle together and enjoy each other’s company. Apart from eating, that's all they do, really.
     Excerpts from magazines, scientific papers, Congressional records, media interviews, etc punctuate the narrative and display the official reactions. All the narrative threads come together in the final chapter, in which Pohl dispenses some poetic justice, just so’s we won’t totally depressed by his satiric insights into our weaknesses and vices.
     A nicely done satire. Pohl has a good eye and ear for the self-delusions that underpin most of the damage we inflict on ourselves and each other. ***

Holmes in London (photo album)

    Regent Street

Charles Viney. Sherlock Holmes in London (1989/1995) Viney links Holmesian locations to photos of late 19th and early 20th century London. A feast both for the nostalgia buff, and for Holmes fans. The photos are generally good, and all are as well reproduced as half-tone letterpress permits.
     Besides the excerpts from the stories with at least  one photo for each, what attracted me was the record of a London long since gone. And yet it lives on. Many of the elegant new buildings still stand. The great hotels were established then, and many still exist (some have been rebuilt). Advertisements fastened or painted on walls and windows and busses fascinate. The habit of “stocktaking”sales was already well-established. London was a commercial city, rapidly expanding and creating what we now often deplore as car-focussed suburbs, but their wide streets were built to attract people who could afford to own or hire carriages.
     An enjoyable book, well worth the $2 I paid for it at the local food-bank yard sale. ***