martin

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(stuff I read in '22)

Richard Lloyd Parry “Ghosts Of The Tsunami”

Harrison Ainsworth: “Old St Paul’s: A Tale Of The Plague And The Fire”


Helen McCloy: “Through A Glass, Darkly”

Somerset Maugham: “The Magician”

Tom Vague: “Harrow Road” (1)

Fred Vermorel: “Queen Victoria’s Lovers: Erotomania & Fantasy”

Rafael Sabatini: “St Martin’s Summer” (2)


Genesis P-Orridge: “Non-Binary”

Anon: “Spring Heel Jack: The Terror Of London” (3)

Ted Lewis: “GBH”

Alan E Nourse: “The Blade Runner”


Muriel Spark: “The Bachelors”

Muriel Spark: “A Far Cry From Kensington” (4)

Peter Vronksy: “American Serial Killers: The Epidemic Years 1950-2000”

Alison Rumfitt: “Tell Me I’m Worthless”

PKD: “Eye In The Sky”

PKD: “Valis”

PKD: “The Divine Invasion” (5)


Alexander Trocchi: “Thongs”

Harley Flanagan: “Hard Core” (6)

George Reynolds: “Mysteries of London Vol 1”

George Reynolds: “Wagner The Wehr-Wolf”

Ian Bourn: “B”


Anon: “The Official DVSA Theory Test for Car Drivers”

Goethe: “Sorrows Of Young Werther” (7)

Eliza Parsons: “The Castle Of Wolfenbach” (8)

Tim Wells: “Shine On Me”


(1) In which Tom Vague adds Duffy’s “Warwick Avenue” to the Clash/Aswad/ Mutoid Waste Company/Centro Iberico ‘Wild West 11’ continuum. Genius.

(2) Swashbuckling hokum, but I enjoyed it. Some of the paranoia/double-crosses remind me of Jim Thompson. Must get round to reading Sabatini's non-fiction book on Torquemada.

(3) Sadly, despite the title, this mostly takes place in Surrey. Convinced ‘Batman’ ripped this off.

(4) Spark getting cranky in her old age? Written as a barely disguised ‘fuck you’ to a caddish ex, much of this came across as a snarky rehash of the earlier (and miles better) “Girls Of Slender Means”.

(5) And then, that was that: some vague idea, around March 2020, to check out a bit of PKD beyond Ubik/High Castle/Androids turned into a full-blown 2-year obsession, burning through the back catalogue (give or take two or three) right until the last page of “The Divine Invasion”. The trip had to end with this one, IMO: but don’t hark me, I’m in my own parallel universe. “Ubik” probably IS the best thing he did, but what’s so brilliant about PKD is you can work backwards and he’ll still sock you in the third eye, time and time again, until the whole concept of ‘best’, or which one you read first, becomes irrelevant. I’m gonna miss this guy.

(6) Don’t like the Cro-Mags (or NYHC, really) but if you want a grimy look at runaway 12-year-olds showering in burst fire hydrants in the Bronx in midwinter, junkie corpses, gang/police violence and possibly more stabbings and beatings than you'll find in any other muso biog (by victim no. 25, he might as well be discussing bass pickups) this is worth a look. The later chapters – where he discovers Hare Krishna and falls out with his bandmates – not so much.

(7) Incel shit.

(8) Apparently, Parsons knocked this out in a rush to avoid losing her house, and it shows: starts off all ‘spooky ghost tale’ then becomes a farrago of toffs wailing and throwing themselves to the carpet at the slightest inconvenience (a swoon per page at one point, I ain't lying). Awful: would strike this from the goth ‘nuum.
 
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Slothrop

Tight but Polite
Just read Small Fires - An Epic In The Kitchen by Rebecca May Johnson, a kind of semi-autobiographical and semi-philosophical dig into the nature of cooking and of recipes. Highly recommended if you enjoy food and cooking but also like people wanging on about theory.
 
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IdleRich

IdleRich
I read a bit more in the Steven King book and there were a couple of stories that stood out as better than the others; Mrs Todd's Shortcut and The Jaunt - still, loads more in there and it's not worth the hassle to take back to Portugal with me, if it was really good I'd chuck somethng else out instead.
 

shakahislop

Well-known member
Read some of this book Clear Water In a Pool Painted Black by Cookie Meuller the other day. I don’t know anything about her or the context around the book, how she’s regarded or anything like that. It’s interesting revisiting the American glamour hippie wildchild thing as an adult. It still comes across as being such an immediately desirable thing to be a part of, which is exactly how it felt when I was 16. All the walking around free as a bird taking drugs and having sex. It obviously bought to mind the beat poet guys but it’s probably more like a continuation of a subculture that the beats started. I think part of why this stuff was ever published is that she manages to make it all sound so awesome, but also it probably was quite awesome, America at that time always seems so rule-less and unrestrained compared to Europe. I love all the stories about 60s hitchhiking, I used to love hitchhiking myself, and America in those days seems like the perfect setting for it.

The world is totally different now in terms of how much that way of life is seen as some kind of ideal, which is something that’s happened over the past ten years or so I think. In my case at least it’s been tempered over the years by seeing what tends to happen to people who do live like that for a bit, how it basically isn’t sustainable for a lot of people. Actually despite all that it also reads a quite a dark book, there’s mistreatment, violence and desperation everywhere. It reminds me a bit of the DeeDee Ramone book I read in that sense, the mixture of sex, fun and grinding addiction. Rape is in the air in these stories, she’s constantly trying to fend off unwanted advances, all the time. Drugs are everywhere as well, all through every one of these stories.

Once again one of the most noticeable things is how many of these ideas and ways of living that formed in the US ended up being copied in England, in a kind of misinterpreted way. The other thing that jumped out as I got through the book, which feels like quite an all-encompassing world as it goes on, is how totally dead the America of the 70s is, and how totally different a world we live in now, despite it being thoroughly within living memory
 

william_kent

Well-known member
the prynne-oliver letters are nuts. @Clinamenic you'll love this book you have to buy one.

Seconded that @Clinamenic needs to read it. Insane use of language, i.e., this passage on "biotopology" on page 34:

We know that there are conformalities between the internally self-regulating manifold of the living entity and the field conditions of its ambient context. The field equations for the biosphere would clearly have to allow for stable inhomogeneities, interactive and and self-replicating, within a homogeneous model for the field characterised by the life constant ( i.e., ecosystem, biosphere ), and would also have to allow for trans-discrete functions at all levels ( from the distribution curves of organic carbon to Hegelian notions of Geist, etc.,). Obviously important functions across discrete boundaries - the infamous term 'interface' hovers resentfully near - include e.g. immune response systems, sign grammars, sex (yum).

and that's Prynne only just getting "warmed up"... he has much more to say but I couldn't be bothered typing out the rest...
 

luka

Well-known member
'But: not to recognise and accomodate locally inhomogenous manifolds embedded discontinuously within a set of such sub-manifolds which can be mapped onto an isotropic and homogenous total-manifold, and with a high accuracy of correspondance to the observed statistical data, is to languish within a positively Euclidian archaism. If you see what I mean.'
 

luka

Well-known member
Poetry of topology?
'there is a silly melodrama, then, in claiming an absolute discontinuity between quantitative and qualitative field-processes. Thom supposes a quasi-absolute separation between his geometric models and the physical processes they 'describe.' Einstein's field equations have settled the fundamental equivalence of geometry and physics; a metaphor is not a suppressed simile, even if you chop out a dimension and then make a drawing of the result. Topology has always suffered from this quaint fixation of form versus content and has thus pined at the level of rhetorical descripto.'
 

IdleRich

IdleRich
Actually realised I'd put all the books I was intending to read on the plane deep in the suitcase and so before heading off I grabbed something off my parents' shelves - Little Drummer Girl by John Le Carre. As a rule, with the books of his that I have read I really enjoyed their low-rent
shabbiness. To me they seem to create a world of spies and international espionage which is a sort of opposite or antidote to the hyped/glammed/pumped-up world inhabited by 007 and his supervillain enemies and their respective armies of improbably beautiful spies and gadgets and... well I dunno why I'm describing James Bond to you, I reckon most of you are familiar with the concept now I come to think of it.

You're probably all familiar with Le Carre too for that matter, but I'm also gonna describe him, or at least the ones I've read. They struck me as a kind of down at heel take on the same world, rendered in muted browns and saggy greys - where the superhuman Bond is normally sipping martinis in a casino or on a beach, the agents of Le Carre's books are more likely to be meeting ugly thugs while struggling with a poorly made sausage in a grimy cafe down a seedy backstreet of a dirty Eastern European town while a bored waiter pushes the dirt round the bar and smeared windows admit a sickly yellow light.

And those agents are almost without fail ugly old men, faded and melancholy and not really certain precisely why they continue to play this deadly game. It feels as though it is habit more than any particular passion for their country that keeps then going, there is no strong belief in their side's ideology and more than that, most of the time it feels as though they recognise it is all but pointless, a never ending succession of minor victories and defeats that never amount to much or really change anything. Things take place at a glacial speed, incompetence is as big a factor as perfect murders. One suspects it's a lot closer to reality, although there are rare flashes of low-key brilliance that cut through at times only to further illuminate the wholly grimly dysfunctional edifice.

Until today when I started Little Drummer Boy, which is fascinating and fun and I'm drawn in, but it feels a lot closer to the Bond - more glamorous and beautiful and unrealistically powerful agencies and so on. And at the start it is written in a curiously ironic mood for the first few chapters. So, I'm enjoying it, I'm fascinated and sucked in, turning pages quickly wanting to find out what happens next. Although it lacks the things I like best about Le Carre and the plot which seems to involve Mossad kidnapping and hiring an English actress is suddenly taking a turn for the ludicrous.
 
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william_kent

Well-known member
Actually realised I'd put all the books I was intending to read on the plane deep in the suitcase and so before heading off I grabbed something off my parents' shelves - Little Drummer Girl by John Le Carre. As a rule, with the books of his that I have read I really enjoyed their shabbiness. To me they seem to create a world of spies and international espionage which is a sort of opposite or antidote to the hyped/glammed/pumped-upth world inhabited by 007 and his supervillain enemies and their respective armies of improbably beautiful spies and gadgets and... well I dunno why I'm describing James Bond to you, I reckon most of you are familiar with the concept now I come to think of it.

You're probably familiar with Le Carre too for that matter, but I'm also gonna describe him, or at least the ones I've read. They struck me as a kind of down at heel take on the same world, but rendered in muted browns and saggy greys - where the superhuman Bond is normally sipping martinis in a casino or on a beach, the denizens of Le Carre's books are more likely to be struggling with a poorly made sausage in a dirty cafe down a seedy backstreet of a dirty Eastern European town.

And those denizens are almost without fail ugly old men, faded and melancholy and not really certain precisely why they continue to fight in this deadly game. It feels as though it is habit more than

weirdly enough that's the next in my pile to read...

I've not posted in this thread for a while because I've been working my way through the Le Carre oeuvre.*..( admittedly out of sequence, but I did do all the "Smiley" novels in order )

he does 'grey' incredibly well

also a lot funnier than you would think ( "Looking Glass War" is hilarious in an understated way - also 'grey' in extremis )

much like Simon Raven when it comes to taking the piss out of the public school classes...

although.. he is thin on characterisation, but strangely fascinated by the cuckold..

I can't help thinking the failed crime writer that he was certainly comes to the fore... the detective just ends up being a pudgy cuck working for the foreign office / MI6 leafing through paperwork

he is really good on bad management and bureaucratic intrigue

edit: I did read "legacy of spies" on a recent holiday and then realised it is the same story as 'the spy who came in from the cold" but from a different perspective... Rashoman style! especially as the little details differ... highly recommended as a "double bill"

* in my defence I have been spending some time in the former DDR and i wanted to get in the "cold war" mood
 
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sufi

lala
They just showed tinker tailor soldier spy the series w alec Guinness on TV over a few nights last week.
Better than the movies 10x obvs
I was wondering if spies are being glorified atm so we can get into another dodgy war, they also had some James bond films... or are spies especially christmassy maybe
 

Mr. Tea

Let's Talk About Ceps
Manifolds! Homotopy! Euclidean! This is like the heady days of the 'What is Deleuze?' thread. Half-expecting vimothy and nomad to reappear and start hate-flirting again.
 

Benny Bunter

Well-known member
Read a few little bits from the Prynne/Olson letters on Google books and it seemed to me wor Jezza made Olson look really quite thick in comparison.
 

IdleRich

IdleRich
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