I've been a bit busy recently, hence the lull in my blog. I was hoping to research and write more on GM foods, amongst other things, but I don't know if I'll get time for that, after all. I also have an urgent mission relating to Burt Reynolds that I still haven't completed, and, well, all sorts of things.
A few bits of news for those who are interested, and then we shall go to the intermission for a while. First of all – the title of the forthcoming Morrissey album has been announced, and it is… Years of Refusal. Hmmm. Not the best title ever, but some of the song titles make up for that, my favourites being, I Was Bully, Do Not Forget Me, and Because of My Poor Education. I don't know what happened to Mozzer's poetic album titles, though. Best album title? Maybe Hatful of Hollow, I think.
I've started writing a couple of new stories, too. I won't give details of those, but will only say that my recent reading of Algernon Blackwood's 'The Wendigo' has revived my interest in stories that make your flesh creep and give you unquiet dreams. I've also completed the first draft of my novel (sequel to the forthcoming Shrike), Susuki, and hope to have certain persons read it and give me feedback so that I can revise it effectively and send it to a publisher soonest.
Other news? I watched Silence in the Library, the latest Doctor Who episode last night, and thought it was okay, but not as good as it was billed to be.
With renewed intimations of my own mortality, I find I am spurred on to read more and more books (violence in the library?), and have started, amongst many, many other volumes, Beroul's The Romance of Tristan.
I am growing accustomed to my life in Wales, and have no plans to leave, though would not be surprised if circumstances force a move at some time.
As usual, apologies to all those waiting to hear from me who have not heard.
Er… Anything else? New stories up on Chomu. I'm planning to conceive a passion for Andean music when I get the time.
You wouldn't believe how many different writing projects I have at the moment.
Any questions?
No? Then let us proceed to the intermission, and you will be hearing from me sometime. There now follows an intermission:
Hello Q,Because I’m not keeping myself fully informed I didn’t know you are in Wales. I hope you are happier there and I infer you are writing, perhaps, in a manner that implies you are ‘happier’ (but this description is a ‘cautious’ one, because I have known you some years now and ‘happiness’ is seemingly an elusive bird) and this will, I believe, make a difference.As to the rest of your excellent essay here? As always it is erudite and elaborate. As always, you touch on matters that would require a great deal of input from me if I were to engage in a length discussion (and I hope I can do this later). I end this brief (relative term) comment, for the moment, by saying that your blog is never short of support from other equally erudite friends, some of whom are also my friends.Best wishes.
“Because I’m not keeping myself fully informed I didn’t know you are in Wales. I hope you are happier there and I infer you are writing, perhaps, in a manner that implies you are ‘happier’ (but this description is a ‘cautious’ one, because I have known you some years now and ‘happiness’ is seemingly an elusive bird) and this will, I believe, make a difference.”I feel – perhaps prematurely – that (gasp!) I have changed, largely since moving to Wales at the end of last year, although it was kind of building up before that. I’m not really afraid of being wrong about this, as being wrong simply means returning to what I already know, which is a kind of existential nightmare (but not exactly existential, since I don’t really subscribe to existentialist philosophy). But I still haven’t told you the nature of the change. I think, quite simply, my default position is no longer ‘depressed’. This doesn’t mean to say I’m dancing and clapping and full of joy. There are still things that cast shadows in my life, as there are with most people. For instance, I’ve spent a lot of time worrying recently about the global fuel situation and imagining a sudden breakdown in society in which food supplies are disrupted, leading people to resort to cannibalism and so forth. I’ve also been very depressed by news items about children having brain implants that ‘allow’ them to learn languages simply by downloading them directly into their brains – something predicted to take place within thirty years. Is that a good thing? I ask myself earnestly. I cannot seem to arrive at an affirmative answer to that question. I don’t even understand how anyone can think it is a good thing to eliminate the ability to learn from children by making computers in their brains do it for them. I’m really beginning to think that people have been hypnotised by technology and cannot see what a stupid and morbid path they are treading. I wish now to envisage a post-machine world, a world in which machines are a quaint (and rather sinister) anachronism, in which humans have developed their own mental and spiritual faculties (now there’s a revolutionary idea!) to such an extent that they simply don’t need the vile plague that is currently referred to as technology. And… stuff like that bothers me. In other words, I am in all particulars the same person, but not so stricken with despair at my own personal fate, on which point I feel relatively easy – I will die, and I don’t much mind. Anyway, that’s how I’ve been feeling recently. I don’t guarantee it will last forever, but neither do I predict that it will vanish next week. Thanks for dropping by.
Q,As The Bard has HAMLET declare “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”And so it is. Reading your statement I find myself warmed and encouraged by your present feelings. Yes, I know there is a little ‘caveat’ inserted by you, to perhaps ward off a plethora of optimism. But there is optimism and I am glad that I see this. It may foretell of an evolving feeling that will, I do wish and hope for you, become something a lot larger and able to counter-balance the erstwhile (?) depressive feelings that have leaned on.. (but this is only my personal subjective perception) your output for some years now.You know me as a poet-writer. You will infer that I gabble on endlessly about “Hope” and a “brighter dawn” in some (many?) of my poems. I admit that I keep Hope alive. Hope is the last thing to perish and it’s vital that it is always sustained and fortified. I know it is an ‘abstract’ in one sense. But in another sense it is real and tangible and powerful and if it is imbued in one it does much to help one to move forward, against all the odds. I cannot ever understate ‘hope’ as an aspiration and as soemthing that needs to be held on to as a precious commodity of love and support. This is not unconnected to a need to have some sort of belief in a “greater power” but is not exclusive to that need. Regarding the sci-fi prospect (?) of kids being ‘force-fed’ knowledge/learning throiugh the process you describe (and which description I also saw in one of our national dailies).. Many “weird” ideas have to come to fruition since I was a lad. Isaac Asimov’s “Foundation” series portrayed a world millenia hence, called “Terminus”, completely covered in a metal ‘skin; its citizens were paranoid about staying under cover. Then there is Asimov’s “I Robot” series, in which earthers intensely dislike “offworlders” and “offworlders” feel the same about “earthers” and so on.You may be justified in your understandable revulsion of the images conjured up by what you read. But right now it’s all Future Sci-Fi in the sky and may stay there for the moment, appearing some time hence in a publication of a “thrilling story, set in another universe”.I may return to this theme again.
Sorry I haven’t answered this. I’m not sure I have anything presentable to say at the moment. One thing – I suppose I have a notion that if I do feel betterhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SJSaRw1vjxMnow, it’s largely because I have given up hope (or I feel better to the extent that I have given up). I honestly feel like life has actually forced me to some very profound defeat or failure (which is not to say I could have sunk no lower). And now I just don’t care as much as I used to. I’ve let go of certain things that other people deem necessities. Earlier today, someone phoned up trying to get me to sign up for a BT credit card. Eventually she gave up on me voluntarily, saying something like, “Let’s just leave it shall we, because you’re a hopeless case.” It was a great feeling. And the next cold-caller I get, I shall say, “I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you’ve got to offer.”
The Romance of Tristan intrigues me. I read most of the way through Le Morte De Arthur with a former friend, though as that qualifier might indicate, that effort ended badly. Glad to hear things are not appearing quite so grim–although cannibalism! I rather look forward to that 😀
Just found this great quote:One of the indictments of civilizations is that happiness and intelligence are so rarely found in the same person. -William Feather, author, editor and publisher (1889-1981)I can see two ways you can read that, but my preferred way (and probably the most common way) is that… Oh, I’m sure I don’t have to explain.
“The Romance of Tristan intrigues me.”I’ve got as far as where Tristan escapes by jumping out of the chapel window, just as he’s about to be burnt to death. So, not very far. I’m enjoying it, although, unfortunately, as with most translated matter, I find the prose rather bland, and prose style is probably what I love in literature above all else, so that I don’t know if I have any favourites based on content or plot alone. I usually have favourites based on style and atmosphere. I haven’t read Le Morte De Arthur, although I currently want to read The Mabinogion. When in Rome, and so on. Oh, I’ve also started what looks like the most epic reading … er…. project(?) I have ever embarked upon, which is the unabridged version of Journey to the West, which is published in four volumes, each of them pretty thick. “Glad to hear things are not appearing quite so grim–although cannibalism! I rather look forward to that”I was woken by the usual grim news this morning from my radio alarm. I’m starting to think there’s something in all this stuff about 2012.
You have been lightening up for a while now. It has been quite obvious. I am glad to hear that you have become accustomed to living in Wales. I spent one summer near where you are I think (in Shropshire) and I liked it.
“I was woken by the usual grim news this morning from my radio alarm.”Well, as the mechanic said, “There’s your problem!” It’s all the news’s fault, or so I tell myself. Ignorance is bliss and it’s folly to be wise, etc.I’ve heard about the 2012 thing, but I think that’s too soon. Realistically we might need another ten years or so–the Mayans didn’t figure in on food shortages, and it will take some time to eat through 6 billion people.
I’m also dying to hear more about the Burt Reynolds mission. Whatever happened to Burt? I haven’t seen him in anything in such a long time. Is that what it is? A rescue mission? Heh.
“But right now it’s all Future Sci-Fi in the sky and may stay there for the moment, appearing some time hence in a publication of a “thrilling story, set in another universe”.”I’ve heard about the 2012 thing, but I think that’s too soon. Realistically we might need another ten years or so”
Robin Davies writes:
“I’ve started writing a couple of new stories, too. I won’t give details of those, but will only say that my recent reading of Algernon Blackwood’s ‘The Wendigo’ has revived my interest in stories that make your flesh creep and give you unquiet dreams.”That’s very good news for this Blackwood fan! Regarding your Welsh location, have you read much of Arthur Machen’s work?
Is it more than 2 weeks after I gave you the Burt Reynolds task Quentin boy???!? :mad:The chickens aren’t looking happy I gotta say!! You know what to do. Do the task or they’ll be in for a right old roasting! (I won’t clarify whether I mean that in a culinary, or sexual sense) :mad:If you don’t do it, I think I’ll have to stalk you, what with you being within a 20 mile radius of my house and all :insane:Grrrrrr, what an unlikely meeting of weirdos that would be :rolleyes:(social phobia still pervades I’m afraid, errrghh, gotta get that sorted out during my counselling sessions. I’ve seen more sheep than people in the last year and a half :rolleyes:, they just don’t understand my problems though, they just bleat indiscriminately 🙁 )
“The chickens aren’t looking happy I gotta say!!”Eeek!
:eyes:OMG, I forgot, you’re in WALES! heh. Hiya, Aidan! So you’re the one responsible for Burt Reynolds?
“You have been lightening up for a while now. It has been quite obvious.”I’m an open book, apparently. “I spent one summer near where you are I think (in Shropshire) and I liked it.”Do you know, I don’t even know where Shropshire is. Terrible, isn’t it? Anyway, I’m finding my surroundings very inspiring. “Well, as the mechanic said, ‘There’s your problem!’ It’s all the news’s fault, or so I tell myself. Ignorance is bliss and it’s folly to be wise, etc.I’ve heard about the 2012 thing, but I think that’s too soon. Realistically we might need another ten years or so–the Mayans didn’t figure in on food shortages, and it will take some time to eat through 6 billion people.”Yeah, I’m not the first to observe this, but there’s something weird about the news. It is the sworn mission of all organs of the news to disseminate death and gloom. I wonder what would constitute an uplifting news story? Is such a thing possible? I suppose the only thing I can remember off-hand was the Berlin Wall coming down. Recently I’ve been feeling that something like a world war is very near. It’s just hanging over me, pervasively, like a black cloud. It doesn’t feel like a personal thing, but like something in the air. Who knows?I’m still working on the Burt mission. In theory. I’ll really have to get on the case, soon. I’m way behind, to be honest.”That’s very good news for this Blackwood fan! Regarding your Welsh location, have you read much of Arthur Machen’s work?”I’ve read a fair amount of Machen, though not everything yet. I’ve basically read everything in the Tartarus collection of his work and probably a bit more, too. So, I’ve yet to read, for instance, The Hill of Dreams, though I want to. Some of the landscape around here makes me think very much of The Great God Pan. I’d like to do a Machen-esque piece.Of the two pieces I’m working on that are set in Wales, one is, I suppose, rather light-hearted, and might not ever see the light of print, since I’m not sure it’s really good enough. It’s just a bit of fun, really. The other was born out of the first in a strange way that I won’t go into, but promises to be a much more serious piece. I’ve actually been scaring myself quite badly during the writing of it. I’ve never really managed more than a bit of a frisson of the eerie before, in terms of the effect of my stories on myself, but I can honestly say I’ve been scared walking about the cottage at night on account of this story. Now, whether that will come across to the reader is quite another matter (I suspect the effect will be at least a little muffled, depending on the skill with which I handle the material). I think there is at least a little influence of ‘The Wendigo’ in it, since some of my original imaginings (which probably will not now be used in the story) involved a kind of battle in the sky between a victim and a… thing. I recently read ‘The Willows’, since it is very well-regarded, and I’ve been meaning to read it for a while. I believe it is one of Mark Samuels’ favourites. I think I still prefer ‘The Wendigo’, though ‘The Willows’ is very good. It makes me want to write a monograph on weird fiction, since Blackwood, perhaps even more than M.R. James, seems to have the slow and careful build-up of atmosphere down to a fine art. In fact, I can’t think of anyone at the moment who seems more consciously in control of their atmosphere. On a related note, I kind of think Sheridan LeFanu is probably under-rated. Some of his stories have given me the creeps much more than the work of James, which can seem a bit dryasdust in comparison. I am in close contact with someone who’s a bit of a fan of Blackwood, so may acquire a copy of some of his work soon (I have some anyway, elsewhere, but most of my books are… not in Wales).
Robin Davies writes:
The best essay I’ve read on Blackwood is the one by S. T. Joshi in this book which also covers Machen, Dunsany, James and Lovecraft:http://www.amazon.co.uk/Weird-Tale-S-T-Joshi/dp/0809531224/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1212533022&sr=1-1
Justin Isis writes:
“I’ve read a fair amount of Machen, though not everything yet. I’ve basically read everything in the Tartarus collection of his work and probably a bit more, too.”I still think that “The White People” story is amazingly underrated. I didn’t even think about it so much as a “weird” story as much as just pure literature. There is a lot in there. As with most things I really like, it has subtle connections to other stories and artworks people did later, like Grant Morrison’s “The Invisibles” and the idea of spirits made of language communicating with pre-verbal children. Some of the ideas about the extremes of religious experience were touched on by Colin Wilson in “The Outsider” as well (another book which produced a lot of “clicks” of recognition and mental cross-referencing to other books and stories). I think that story reaches the ideal of using a relatively brief work in the short story format that nevertheless suggests a million tangents and ideas that allow for re-reading. I also like how it reaches an amazing level of beauty in referring to things which are essentially meaningless and unexplained (the alien languages, the magick rituals, etc.) I don’t think Lovecraft even pulled this off to the same extent, really.
“The best essay I’ve read on Blackwood is the one by S. T. Joshi in this book which also covers Machen, Dunsany, James and Lovecraft:”That looks interesting. I’ll have to read it some time. I find Joshi to be a fairly lucid writer and critic (as far as I’ve read him), though perhaps a little predictable or conservative in his views. His essay on Ligotti was interesting, but he seemed unwilling to embrace entirely the… far out-ness of Ligotti’s work. That is, his estimation was the conservative estimation of Ligotti as a writer who could be great if he were a little more orthodox and cared more about conventional storytelling realism and so on. Needless to say (?), I don’t agree.”I still think that “The White People” story is amazingly underrated.”I did like it, but found it to be maybe just a little too oblique, and not as good as some people have said. I find Machen to be very, very oblique in general. Hmmm. I’ll probably have to re-read it. What I admire about what I’ve read of Machen so far, is that he obviously couldn’t give a shit about fulfilling the reader’s expectations. In other words, I think he went out on a limb, artistically, in all that he wrote, not trying to hit people with the kind of repetition of themes and so on that eventually results in recognition, but just doing whatever he felt like.