Sunday, 31 March 2013

E.T.A. Hoffman- The Devil's Elixirs

The Devil's Elixirs
Oneworld Classics
 E.T.A. Hoffmann
1815

If you're like me and you've got the consistent habit of collecting books at a much faster rate than you read them, then you'll come across the dilemma of having to choose a next read between something you really, really want to look at next or something you've had for much longer and can't build up the will-power to start. It's kind of silly, really, there's a bunch of Murakami and Bukowski novels that I just know I'll devour, but I have this vague notion I need to mix it up a little bit. So, to be honest, the prospect of E.T.A. Hoffmann's Gothic horror The Devil's Elixirs didn't appeal much in terms of picking a fun read, which begs the question of why I bought it in the first place.

I first experienced an educated look at the genres of romanticism and horror with the genre's most famous example; Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, and quickly became more familiar with the development of the genre and web-like connections between authors. While we all recognise Frankenstein now as perhaps the definitive supernatural monster story (originally told, as the story roughly goes, around a prototypical campfire) there's a lot more depth in tone and context to it, representing the culmination of,a style and set of ethics influenced by such luminaries as William Blake, Lord Byron and William Wordsworth.

The Devil's Elixirs was written three years before Frankenstein, and I feel its influence was felt stylistically in Mary Shelley's piece. In regards to the story, however, it seemed to have more in common with the legend of Faustus, as it regards the corruption and descent into madness of a man given too much power. While it was Christopher Marlowe who was the first to write a definite version of the myth in Doctor Faustus, Hoffman's contemporary Johann Goethe's Faust was published in 1808, and surely must have influenced Hoffman's storytelling. I'm yet to read Faust but I do have a copy on the pile.

The Devil's Elixirs tells the harrowing tale of Medardus the Monk, a good, pious man who's fate is settled when he is entrusted with the possession of the titular devil's elixir, a corrupting liquid supposedly secreted by Satan. Naturally Medardus is unable to resist the bizarre mental effects he soon experiences, and the story really begins as he flees the monastery and attempts to create a new identity. It's a fairly detailed plot that focuses on identity and mystery, evoking to me in style (though through translation) the Victorian prose of Dickens and the like. Forgive the lack of a better description, but it screams classical to me.

As such, I found it difficult to engage my full attention to the narrative throughout because I find such a style dry in places. Ultimately I found it to be what I expected, which might be a self-fulfilling prophecy, which was a notable and memorable read that I can't say I particularly enjoyed. As someone still clinging on to the description of English student, I'm always keen to read something that fits as a piece of a large puzzle depicting a genre or a period that I'm interested in. The blurred lines of horror and romanticism are fascinating and alluring through their image and impact on culture through history, through Horace Walpole's The Castle of Otranto to perhaps the final Gothic classic Dracula, and The Devil's Elixirs is certainly an essential read for anyone wanting to fully explore macabre fiction.

Friday, 22 March 2013

Terry Pratchett's Discworld 13- Small Gods

Small Gods
Victor Gollancz
 Terry Pratchett
"That's why it's always worth having a few philosophers around the place. One minute it's all Is Truth Beauty and Is Beauty Truth, and Does A Falling Tree in the Forest Make A Sound if There's No one There to Hear It, and then just when you think they're going to start dribbling one of 'em says, Incidentally, putting a thirty-foot parabolic reflector on a high place to shoot the rays of the sun at an enemy's ships would be a very interesting demonstration of optical principles."

When I made the decision to review the entire Discworld book series, I honestly didn't expect to get very far because I'm utterly awful at committing myself to writing projects. That has to be pretty evident through the fact that I very rarely update this blog more than once a week, or sometimes once a month. Life just seems to get in the way of writing somehow, even though these are hardly lengthy pieces. I actually started the Discworld reviews at least a year before I started this blog, when I was just idly rambling on forums (ironically gaining more hits than I do now), and at one point I gave up on that for ages, before something clicked in my brain and I got back to it. Now, twelve crummy reviews later, I've reached my absolute favourite book in the series. I adore Small Gods, not just as my preferred Discworld installment, but as an individual piece of literary brilliance.

By 1992, Terry Pratchett had struck creative gold with the Discworld, thanks to a series of brilliantly envisaged novels which were not only individually very good but also established a group of very successful series-within-series that involved re-occurring characters on an unofficial rotation schedule; Rincewind, the first creation, then Death, the Witches, and the Watch, each offering a different perspective on the same shared universe, as it grew exponentially larger and larger. So far, twelve books in, Pratchett had only written Pyramids and Moving Pictures as stand alone novels, and both of those had predominantly featured the city of Ankh-Morpork and other recognisable features from previous installments. Each book had also been in a vague chronological order, with Rincewind's early adventures and Mort set perhaps a few decades earlier than those proceeding. Pratchett seemingly loved developing his creations, pushing them forward as individuals and ideas, something which is emphasised more than ever in his recent books.

Small Gods, then, is sort of an anachronism in the Discworld series, and still stands alone today as such, yet I'm convinced it's the greatest Discworld novel by far; and that's not to be disparaging to any of the others, I just love it that much. To begin with it doesn't fit chronologically with the rest of the series, instead it seems to be set many years prior, probably hundreds of years. It wasn't really until the publication of the witches book Carpe Jugulum in 1998 that this was confirmed; the characters of Small Gods are confined to Discworld history, and (if you listen to Granny Weatherwax) disputed history at that. Secondly, the book doesn't go to Ankh-Morpork, and is instead set far across the Disc in a series of previously unexplored countries that should seem somewhat recognisable to the real world. These two features, combined with Pratchett's typical motif of the unsuspecting hero rising to indescribable success distinguishes this book from the pack and allows its epic adventure and heavy satire room to fully breathe.


The narrative is set at an undetermined time in the past in the previously unexplored country of Omnia, and is in part a traditional Pratchett-style coming-of-age story thickly layered in evocative satire and cultural analysis. It is by far the most detailed and intensive look that Pratchett takes at religion in any form, and it's heavily based upon certain aspects of European culture and history. It's story is based around one of Pratchett's more featured philosophical idea made real upon the Disc; that of belief. Omnia is a country based around its religion of Omnianism, where everyday life for Omnians involves being very careful to make sure they worship the church of the Great God Om in the correct and proper fashion. Making sure of this fact is the Quisition; that familiar-sounding faction of the church who's job it is to seek out unbelievers and heretics, and deal with them appropriately.  

The trouble is that the church is so powerful and dangerous that people don't really believe in Om anymore. It's the church which has become the focus of worship and fear and belief, and on the Discworld it's belief that really matters. The Great God Om has fallen from greatness, into the gutter. One morning he tried to manifest himself in the form of a great bull, but could only manage a tortoise and got stuck like that. Fortunately for the narrative, Om is lucky enough to encounter the one person who still actually really believes in him. Unfortunately that person is Brutha the Novice, who is considered by the kindliest of people to be a moron. But Brutha is the only person who can still here Om's voice, and so Om enlists him on the quest of restoring the god to greatness, resulting in adventures across the Disc, plenty of running away, and the wrath of the Quisition. Nobody expects the Omnian Quisition.

The key to the quality of Small Gods to me is not that it does anything majorly different from the typical Pratchett in terms of style or basic composition, but that it hits all of the regular notes perfectly. Firstly, and probably most importantly, it works as a comedic character piece just as well as a big, plot-driven adventure. Brutha and Om are a brilliant odd couple, surviving in spite of themselves and the massive odds against them. Brutha begins the book as a blank slate, knowing nothing but blind belief in Om, and develops on every page in the most dangerous and ridiculous circumstances. Om, the once great god, is almost the reverse of that as the formerly all-powerful deity struggles with his impotent form and almost total reliance of Brutha. Their opposition, the church itself, is represented by the cheerfully ruthless Vorbis, head of the Quisition. In the background lies a small underground resistance to the power of the church, a group who knows the real truth that the church tries to hide. The world is flat, not round, and lies on the back of a giant space turtle.

I suppose that the larger themes of Small Gods are rather simple to understand in nature, following on from opinions and poetical thought from romanticists like William Blake and virtually every other amateur philosopher who's thought about the pitfalls of well organised religion. Pratchett doesn't say anything new, but his portrayal is masterfully created. A portion of the book involves Brutha and Om temporarily escaping the borders of Omnia for the country of Ephebe, a thinly-veiled pastiche on popular portrayal of Ancient Greece, where toga-wearing philosophers stand on every street corner, desperately avoiding any job involving heavy lifting. Here Pratchett puts his spin on philosophy and classical philosopher's, creating a kind of Python-esque re-occurring sketch feel.

The thing about Small Gods and the world of Omnia (which also reminds me of the Judea of Python's Life of Brian) is that it's so rich that I'd be thrilled to read a sequel or whole series continuing the story. At the very least, a sequel set in the present day on the Disc could be fabulous, but it seems that Pratchett has long been disinterested in the fringes of his universe, or anything not involving Ankh-Morpork. But then this probably exists better as a done-in-one story. Perhaps inevitably, the story leads to its natural resolution as Brutha takes his rightful place as prophet and leader, fulfilling his destiny despite bumbling his way through most of it. Om, frustrated and repressed for most of the book gets his moment of heroism and power, and everyone lives happily ever after, sort of.

For me, Pratchett never quite reached the heights of overall greatness that I experienced in Small Gods, as the combination of comedy, action, drama and philosophy all melds together in to one great novel. Pratchett continued to focus on his ongoing characters, leaving Brutha in the past as one who'd completed his journey. While there's always a chance he could choose to return to the characters (I never expected him to ever return to Esk of Equal Rites, for example), I doubt it'll happen, and Small Gods will continue to exist as an exemplary stand alone tale from the universe full of furious imagination and wonderfully crafty comedy. It'll surely always be my favourite, but there's plenty of greatness to come. Twenty-seven pieces of them, by my count.

Tuesday, 19 March 2013

L-Space- The Glass Cabinet

My review of Small Gods is tumbling out of control, as previously unknown stores of real effort have been accessed by my brain for some reason, so it's going to take me a little while. In the meantime, I've been buying books again because I can't help it. I just have so much nerdy fun hunting for these things in small little shops that I gave up on trying to limit it a while ago. So, in the spirit of vague organisation, the contents of the glass cabinet in my room are...

Haruki Murakami- After Dark, Dance Dance Dance & Underground- The Tokyo Gas Attack and the Japanese Psyche
I've been a fan of Murakami for years now but since I tend to have little focus on what I'm going to read next, it's taken me a long time to get near the end of his bibliography. These are the final three of his widely available novels, though there are a couple more early ones from different publishers available online too.

Cormac McCarthy- The Border Trilogy- All the Pretty Horses, Cities of the Plain & The Crossing
While I've not given up on really enjoying Cormac McCarthy, I have come to realise that, despite how much I liked The Road, he's never going to become a favourite author. His famous Border Trilogy is the most well-known of his work that I haven't read, and I picked the three books up very cheaply a while ago. The problem is if the first book ends up being like Blood Meridian then I'm just going to give up on it completely and give them all back to the charity shop, especially since there's so much else I have to read.

Sam Kean- The Disappearing Spoon
Alex Boese- Elephants on Acid and other Bizarre Experiments
Bertrand Russel- ABC of Relativity
I'm enjoying more and more non-fiction recently, and I've always wanted to know a little more about science, though only if the book entertains me enough because I'm fickle. I've also wanted to read a bit of Bertrand Russel for a while, and that happened to be the first book of his I saw.

George Orwell-  Burmese Days & Homage to Catalonia
I've read Homage to Catalonia before, but that was a while ago and at the time I didn't get anything out of it. I love Orwell and so I feel the need to rectify that by reading it again. Burmese Days, meanwhile is his first novel, and the only one left for me to read for the first time.

Phillip Reeve- Mortal Engines
I think some young adult fiction can be brilliant, and I haven't read any in a while. This was recommended to me and I'm pretty hyped for it.

Chris Ayres- War Reporting for Cowards
Jon Ronson- The Men Who Stared at Goats
Back on the non-fiction trail, on more of a military track. I've really got no interest in that sort of thing for the sake of it, but these seemed like interesting books on their own merit.

Simon Garfield- The Wrestling
I've read this before too, back in the legendary Aberystwyth Town Library. It was great, and I'm a big pro-wrestling nerd, so once I saw it again I snatched it up.

Charles Bukowski- Women & Notes of a Dirty Old Man
I've only read one Bukowski novel, Post Office, but it's one of those times where you read an author's work for the first time and you just know you're going to love everything he's ever done.

Jack Kerouac- On the Road
Read this years and years ago, didn't quite get it. The new film came out last year and I wanted to reread it before I watched it. So far I've done neither.

Alex Garland- The Beach
During my first year at University (the year where your final mark doesn't count towards the degree) I had questions come up on this book during an exam, and I hadn't read it. Passed by one mark. Should be interesting.

Terry Pratchett- Dodger
I didn't particularly enjoy Nation, Pratchett's previous, recent non-Discworld book, so I don't have my hopes up too high for this. But perhaps I shouldn't doubt Sir Terry.

Truman Capote- Breakfast at Tiffany's & In Cold Blood
Herbert Selby Jr.- Last Exit to Brooklyn
Both authors who I'm very keen to start reading for the first time.

Paul Auster- Moon Palace
As I did with Murakami, I've been going slowly with Auster despite him being one of my favourite authors. I don't know anything about this book except that he wrote it, and therefore I want to read it.

W. Somerset Maugham- Cake and Ale & The Magician
Oscar Wilde- Complete Shorter Fiction
Grouped together because they're both very well respected classic English authors, and I'm slowly going through their work. I'm intruiged by The Magician and the character of Oliver Haddo, particularly thanks to Alan Moore's League of Extraordinary Gentlemen series.

George R.R. Martin- A Song of Ice and Fire 05- A Dance with Dragons 01- Dreams and Dust
I've been holding off on this for a while now, simply because it's so damn long it's going to take an age to get through.

David Nicholls- Starter for Ten
I like the premise but I have no experience of the author and he's of the type I'm usually suspisious of because I'm a hipster.

Jorge Luis Borges- A Universal History of Infamy & Dr. Brodie's Report
Collected short stories from a very famous author who I have very limited experience of. These two very short collections should be a good introduction.

Carlos Castaneda- The Eagle's Gift & A Seperate Reality
All I know is that they sounded really interesting and that episode of The Simpsons where Homer trips out for twenty minutes is kind of an homage.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky- Letters from the Underground
Euripedes- Madea and Other Plays
Jean-Dominique Bauby- The Diving-Bell & The Butterfly
R.K. Narayan- The Guide
A few world classics that I'll probably enjoy to varying extents, but I always enjoy finding out and forming an opinion.

Kobo Abe- The Face of Another
I first read a Kobo Abe book (The Woman in the Dunes) about seven years ago. I loved it, and decided that I really wanted to read more. This is how long it takes me to do anything. Seriously though, Japanese literature is something I want to explore a lot more,

Russel Hoban- Amaryllis Night and Day
I literally have no memory of buying this, nor can I exactly work out why. Actually, it's probably all the review quotes on the cover.

Gore Vidal- Messiah
Because he died recently and this looked interesting.

Pierre Boulle- Planet of the Apes
Classic French science fiction from the 1960's that also happens to be Planet of the Apes? How could I not buy this?

Phillip Pullman- The Good Man Jesus and the Soundrel Christ
The man who wrote the His Dark Materials trilogy will forever have my undying respect, and if he wants to re-write the story of Jesus Christ then by God I'll read it.

Anthony Storr- The Dynamics of Creation
J.A.C. Briwn- Techniques of Persuasion
These two are both Pelican paperback non-fiction, as part of a series identifiable by their bright blue back covers. I've read a few in the past and some can be fascinating, it's kind of a gamble since I have no idea who the authors are. These are both analytical philosophy, or so they look. If they're crap, I'll give up on them quickly.

Christopher Marlow- Faustus
Goethe- Faust
Published in one very nice-looking classic hardback edition, I wanted to read Faustus again because it was the very first thing I studied at University. Goethe's equally famous version will be interesting.

Judge Dredd- The Complete Case Files Vol. 10
The Boys- Vol. 7
The Walking Dead- Book 1
Nemo- Heart of Ice
That's my current graphic novel to-read collection. I've been reading the former two at a slow pace for a year or so now, but I couldn't resist waiting to finish The Boys before starting The Walking Dead, especially after the third season of the TV show reignited my interest. Nemo, meanwhile, is the newest installment in Alan Moore's League of Extraordinary Gentlemen series.

I think that's it all covered. I'm more intimidated now than anything else.

Wednesday, 13 March 2013

L-Space 3- Season of the Witch

What's that, another week gone? I'm getting old. I had sat down to write another review in the perpetual Discworld series, but when I realised the next book to write about was the eleventh, Small Gods, I very quickly gave up. I love that book, it's easily my favourite Discworld book of them all- although in the Terry Pratchett bibliography top spot it constantly fights with the fantastic Good Omens, co-authored by Neil Gaiman- so I don't want to do it an injustice with my usual improvised ramblings. So instead I'm going go with my usual improvised ramblings and do an L-Space thing, which is an unimaginative title that I'm lazily sticking with.

On the book front I finished Absolute Sandman Volume 3 and it was brilliant, as is the whole series. I also started and finished the gothic horror classic (that I'd never previously heard of) The Devil's Elixirs by E.T.A. Hoffman. Published all the way back in 1815, it appealed to me as part of a genre I explored (or, more honestly, was forced to study) back in my student days, and it's on the full review pile now. Continuing the horror theme on into more contemporary settings, I've just started Richard Matheson's seminal fifties vampire novella I Am Legend, which I'm reading many years after I saw the Will Smith film. I liked the film, mostly, and I'm enjoying the book so far.

I'm always fascinated by book-to-film adaptations, and there's no shortage of them. The most notable of late (to me, anyway) was the Ang Lee-directed $120 million budget adaptation of Yann Martel's Life of Pi. If you don't want to read my full review, I basically said that I loved the book as a smart and spiritual piece of contemporary fiction, but I wouldn't put too much hope in the cinematic adaptation, which I would see as soon as it came out at the cinema. I didn't do that, because I'm full of lies and deception (alright then, laziness). Actually I rarely go to the cinema nowerdays, with the rare exceptions of going to see comic book franchise films, because it's really expensive and I'm the reincarnation of Ebeneezer Scrooge.

Thankfully though, Life of Pi on the big screen was a world away in quality from some of the more awful book-to-film adaptations I've been interested in, such as the deeply personal insult that was The Golden Compass or the treatment of Alan Moore's League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Essentially what's delivered here is a very faithful treatment, both literally and thematically, making the film safe from the most condescending reviewer objection of them all; deviating from the plot of the book. Personally I'm happy to keep and open mind about that sort of thing, since it's sometimes a necessary result of the nature of adaptation. The Lord of the Rings films had plenty of positive changes, I feel, such as the removal of the ridiculous Tom Bombaldi character, while The Golden Compass, the adaptation of the first of Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials, felt totally gutted by its changes. But then again, the total subjectivity of the topic is summed up by the fact that I love His Dark Materials and I didn't particularly like the Lord of the Rings books.

But all of this is a roundabout way of saying I had no reason to unreasonably dislike Life of Pi, and I really enjoyed it. I'm no movie reviewer with technical terms and stuff so I'm not going to waffle on about why it was good because I don't really know. The special effects were sparkly and the Pi was well represented as both intelligent and emotional and as a quirky idiot in the way I saw him as in the book. Richard Parker the tiger looks amazingly believable at all times as co-star too, menacing and elegant in equal measure. Basically I enjoyed this film so much that I knew I needed to seek out another film about a young Indian boy fighting for his life against a Bengal tiger...

My favourite Disney movie from childhood, it's been a while since I'd seen The Jungle Book, but it quickly reasserted its status. I couldn't resist mentioning it on my blog because it is technically a literary adaptation, but obviously it's so far removed from the original tone of Rudyard Kipling's novel that it's not worth analysing as an adaptation. It is, though, the coolest movie I've ever seen. The famous King Louis scene and song is amazing. I know most people generally prefer either the really old Disney films or the late 80's-mid-90's renaissance, but those from this era appeal to me most because they're so (for lack of a better word) cool. I couldn't resist watching Robin Hood almost straight after. I'm planning on going on a Disney binge over the next year or so, so this probably won't be the last you hear of me rambling on about kids films for a while.

Until then I'm going to cut this short because I started writing it about a week ago and I still haven't finished it. But now I have.

Saturday, 2 March 2013

Terry Pratchett- A Blink of the Screen: Collected Fiction

A Blink of the Screen- Collected Shorter Fiction
Doubleday

"The traditional enmity between dwarfs and trolls has been explained away by one simple statement: one species is made of rock, the other is made of miners. But in truth the enmity is there because no one can remember when it wasn’t, and so it continues because everything is done in completely justifiable revenge for the revenge that was taken in response to the revenge for the vengeance that was taken earlier, and so on. Humans never do this sort of thing, much."

It's safe to say that the vast majority of popular authors eventually release at least one collection of short stories, letters and other previously unreleased miscellanea, as kind of an easy cash-in on their success and as a treat for their biggest fans, who inevitably can't resist making sure they have their favourite author's entire bibliography. I reviewed George Orwell's Shooting an Elephant and Other Essays (which is one only many collections of the legendary author's many essays and articles) not long ago as an example, as is Hunter S. Thompson's The Great Shark Hunt. Another that springs to mind as a favorite is the posthumous Douglas Adams collection The Salmon of Doubt.

As a devout fan of the great man Pratchett, A Blink of the Screen was an essential purchase. Upon first thought, it seems strange that it's taken so long for such a project to be released, especially since Pratchett has hardly been shy about contributing to a great many Discworld companions of various types. When you consider he's been hugely popular for twenty years now it seems odder. It turns out that the explanation for this is a simple one, and one that really defines the nature and appeal, or lack of (I'll get to that) this book. A Blink of the Screen collects thirty-three individual pieces of shorter work dating from 1963 to the present day. Eleven of these are Discworld pieces, and constitute most of the appeal of the book.

This is a definitive collection, no doubt. The first story, The Hades Business from 1963 was written when Pratchett was 13-years-old, and there are a quite a few originating from his younger years. These are amusing enough, clearly showing a young writer with lots of potential, but inevitably aren't anywhere near the quality we're used to from him. The later writings, including several of the Discworld bits, are very short bits of miscellanea that seem included merely to pad out the Discworld content and sell more copies. They're funny little sketches from the recognisable pen of the mature Pratchett, but I have the feeling many will be disappointed with their briefness.

The meat and potatoes, as they say, lies in Pratchett's years of developing fame, roughly encapsulated here from 1986 to 1993, where his stories clearly display the work of a man just beginning to plumb the depths of his imagination. The High Megas (1986) is the short story which eventually evolved into last year's The Long Earth novel (which I annoyingly don't have, yet alone have read) and it's a breath-taking piece of imaginative sci-fi reminiscent of the short stories of Arthur C. Clarke and Ray Bradbury, only with a lot more wit. Meanwhile, there are three brilliant Discworld short stories that are almost worth the price of admission themselves, if only they hadn't been available on the Internet for free since they came out.

Pratchett gives short introductions to each piece, and it's through this that he reveals the truth; he doesn't enjoy writing short stories whatsoever, and envies those people who do them for fun. It's an honest admission for someone selling a short story collection, but it really defines the truth. There are at least 100 pages of legitimately great, on-form Pratchett stories in here, but the rest of it is merely collected for the sake of it. Rather than having reams and reams of material to source from, Pratchett was left with the scraps. It makes complete sense because there's absolutely loads of published material from Sir Terry, he doesn't leave many scraps. So, as it is, this book is really only for obsessives, or for people who don't mind paying for convenience. I'm happy to have it because it looks very nice and makes me feel like a cool librarian (oxymoron?), but I doubt I'll be referring to it as a must have to any burgening fans of my favourite author.