Richard Dawkins- The Blind Watchmaker

The Blind Watchmaker

Penguin

Richard Dawkins
1986

“There is something infantile in the presumption that somebody else has a responsibility to give your life meaning and point… The truly adult view, by contrast, is that our life is as meaningful, as full and as wonderful as we choose to make it.”

I am not a science person, though I'd like to be. I smoothly passed my various science GCSE exams at the base level C without much trouble, but any real exposure to actual scientific things since then typically led to me frantically waving my arms around to make myself look big and scare the science away. I like to think of myself of one of those people who displays the right amount of restrained amazement and sense of awe when beholden to science. I guess I'm pretty awe-some.

Recent brushes with the harsh finger of mortality prompted me to try to understand the world around me a little bit more, at least enough to convince me of the absence of evil magicks. My first, rather fatherly tour guide was the reassuringly British gentlemen scholar who made quite the name for himself a few years back with a little book you may of heard of named The God Delusion. I first read that book about four years ago, approaching it with a great deal of enthusiasm in the knowledge that it was preaching to the converted, so to speak. Years spent in the dying remnants of the Church of England sponsored educational system quickly sent me down the atheist route, and so The God Delusion amused me in such a way as a book full of pictures of dead cats might appeal to someone who really hates cats.

After that I read The Greatest Show on Earth: The Evidence for Evolution, which was essentially the follow up to God Delusion excepted routed in more scientific fact rather than theological debate. Unfortunately I was not ready for such heady scientific analysis and terminology, and I ran from the genre of popular science for some time, until one day I came across a second hand copy of The Blind Watchmaker. Like all of Richard Dawkins' books, Watchmaker is about evolution and/or Darwinism (that's not a criticism on repetition by the way, Dawkins himself confidently assures that, as a topic, it encompasses every living thing on this planet and potential others), though it was first published back in 1986, a while before Dawkins' fame became mainstream.

Author's photo.

Though the topic is too complex to be easily narrowed down and rigidly adhered to by the author, the prime focus of this book surrounds the theory of evolution verses that of intelligent design (and its variations). The title of the book is a particular reference to an argument presented by anti-evolutionist and overall god bothering theologian William Paley, roughly stating that if you found a gold watch in the middle of the desert you would know that, because of its complexity, someone had built this watch, therefore life must have been created by God. To be fair, Paley wrote this before Darwin in the 17th century, where English life was somewhat entrenched in religious dogma. Nowadays, for a modern scientist like Dawkins to take this on is rather like shooting at fish in a barrel. In fact, my enjoyment of this book is in direct opposition to any attempt to analyse this as a scientific argument. I am the converted, I believe in evolution already.

Dawkins was able to stifle those possible complaints for me by going into far greater detail about things than I could've possibly hoped to imagine with my limited knowledge. Though admittedly certain aspects discussed went completely over my head, that's not the book's fault, and for the majority of it Dawkins does a splendid job of talking down to the average reader not possessing a education costing tens and tens of thousands (this is a total guess, it's probably more) of pounds. As a result this book is a resounding success in its goal of educating the ignorant in an entertaining way, and though this might be understating his actual credentials, pushes Dawkins into the public figure stratosphere of only Sir David Attenborough as teachers to an entire nation, or even globe.

My criticisms are limited to the occasional dryness of the source material. I don't mean to insult the majesty and complexity of science, but much of it is inevitably boring, and this does sometimes seep through. Really though, I took more valuable information from this book than I have from any in a good while, making any tedium clearly worth it. Hopefully reading this book has cracked the glass of ignorance blocking my understanding of science (strained analogy alert) and the next science book I eventually read will be that much clearer through the magical touch of context. Big opposable thumbs-up.

Comics Snobbery I

 Comics Snobbery I

 In the near two year history of this humblest of humble blogs I've successfully managed to resist the constant temptation to write about the comic books I've been reading (or 'graphic novels', if you're insecure), based on the entirely accurate logic that I can barely write two individual book reviews per month anyway. This has been hard since I've been a big reader of comic books since I first noticed the growing collection of the local library when I was about ten years old (and for years before that I read The Beano and The Dandy every week, back when they only cost 40 pence), and since the arrival of the Internet in its current form made it easy to follow the industry on a 24/7 basis.

Still though, it's only been over the last couple of years that my physical collection of comics- a slight misnomer since, unless I'm forgetting, 100% of my collection is comprised of hard and paperback collections or original graphic novels- has really grown. I borrowed a lot of complete series of classic contemporary comics when I was younger, and my heart's desire to revisit and own them won out over my brain's desire to protect my wallet.

In this ever-growing blog post I just want to talk about the comics series that I've only partially collected, but before I do that I must explain; I'm a self-confessed comics snob. That is, I only put down my money on widely well-regarded series with critically acclaimed superstar authors. I don't buy comics on a whim and I don't give chances to authors of whom I feel aren't up to presenting comics as real literature (I'm not overly worried about artists). My reasoning is pretty simple though; I've only got a certain amount of money to spend and only so much free time to read, and my comics reading time is integrated into my novel reading time. And I'm a snob. Let's crack on;

Judge Dredd- The Complete Case Files (2000AD)

Cover art by Cliff Morrison

I'm ten volumes deep in to this absolutely massive complete collection of Judge Dredd stories; the only bullying fascist lawman of the future I ever loved. For those who don't know of him, Judge Dredd first appeared back in 1977 in the second issue of the British science fiction anthology strip 2000AD and perseveres to this day as the country's number one character, popular enough to star in the half-decent 2012 Hollywood movie Dredd. Created and consistently written by John Wagner, Judge Dredd as a character and concept is an immensely curious blend of influences, born of a depressed British society swamped by a deluge of US popular culture, creating this mean, stone-jawed militant policeman who, early on in the strip especially, appalls almost as much as he appeals. The overt fascist, right wing politics of Dredd are cranked-up tongue-in-cheek portrayals of a world too big and too dangerous to be organised by diplomacy. 

Mega City One is the home of Dredd, an immense metropolis stretching down almost the entire east coast of the US and home to millions upon millions of potential criminals. The only thing that can keep things civil is the power of the judge system, where each highly trained judge patrols the city and acts as policeman, judge, jury and executioner rolled into one. Dredd is the most capable and the most feared of all the judges, and he's always at the front line when Mega City One needs protecting. The 10 volumes I've read (though there are 21 available so far) chronicle Dredd's mission to protect the city against all manner of apocalyptic threats, while dealing with crime on the street that you could barely imagine if John Wagner hadn't done it for you.

The earlier volumes mostly contain the more traditional, often straight-faced sci-fi stories written in multiple parts, such as The Cursed Earth Saga, The Judge Child, and The Apocalypse War. They're exciting, classic, and full of admittedly zany British comics humour influenced by the more traditional comics of the time. There's also a strong sense of pastiche as Dredd fulfills a traditional bad ass, never give up, never compromise hero role despite pretty much being a bastard. The later volumes change the tone of the stories somewhat, shortening the long form stories into typically one or two part strips. There's an increased focus on comedy, more satirical and blacker than ever before. It would take a far better deconstructionist than I to properly analyse the development of Dredd in relation to John Wagner's views of society (which, by the time of the contents of Volume 10, was deep into Conservative political territory), but there's no doubt Wagner's authorship improves over the years.

With so many more volumes to read, I'm not entirely sure if I'll make it to the end, simply because I've already been suffering from Dredd fatigue. I'll almost certainly be buying volume 12 though, as it marks Judge Dredd's first foray into colour; a very welcome addition by this point, as the heavy black inks only offer limited detail and add a massive dose of extra repetitiveness. The other nine volumes (so far) may have to wait. Still, despite my complaints of over exposure I can only say that, individually, each volume is of great value; they're massive, and fairly cheap by typical standards. They're also very consistent in quality, though the fact remains that there's a fairly specific niche aspect to the satirical elements that, thirty years on specifically, might not be particularly obvious to non-Brit readers without reference points. 

That's enough comics talk for now. Especially since I originally planned on doing this all in one post, and completely failed. More comics talk soon, probably around 2052 or so.

Terry Pratchett's Discworld 15- Men At Arms

Men At Arms

Corgi Press

 Terry Pratchett

1993

Other Terry Pratchett Reviews- The Colour of Magic - The Light Fantastic - Equal Rites - Mort - Sourcery - Wyrd Sisters - Pyramids - Guards! Guards! - Eric - Moving Pictures - Reaper Man - Witches Abroad - Small Gods - Lords and Ladies - Men At Arms - Soul Music - Interesting Times - Maskerade - Feet of Clay - Hogfather - Raising Steam - A Blink of the Screen - Sky1 Adaptations- Dodger - The Long Earth (w Stephen Baxter)

 "If you have to look along the shaft of an arrow from the wrong end, if a man has you at his mercy, then hope like hell that man is an evil man. Because the evil like power, power over people, and they want to see you in fear. They want you to know you are going to die. So they'll talk. They'll gloat. They'll watch you squirm. They'll put off the murder like another man will put off a good cigar. So hope like hell your captor is an evil man. A good man will kill you with hardly a word."

Men At Arms is one of the finest and most popular books in the Discworld series, and, regards its narrative direction is one of the most important. It's the sequel to Guards! Guards!, one of my favourite Discworld novels, and as such follows the adventures and expansion of the City Watch; the policemen of Ankh-Morpork (grandest and most disgusting of all the cities on the Disc). Guards! Guards! introduced readers to the Night Watch, the unwanted, uncared for bastards of the city guard. Fred Colon and Nobby Nobs were the regular, grimy patrolmen too worried about themselves to deal with crime. Carrot Ironfoundersson was a new recruit, a bit stupid and naive to the ways of the big city but very, very capable in that way that only mysterious heirs to the kingdom are. Captain Sam Vimes, meanwhile, was the man in charge of this unwieldy bunch, and it was the sheer strength of his character that provided the backbone to the whole thing and eventually led him to become the most commonly reoccurring character of Sir Terry Pratchett's lengthy fantasy comedy series... but I'm getting ahead of myself.

In Guards! Guards! the night watch, those most unlikely of heroes led by Sam Vimes, rescued the city from an intelligent, talking, and rather pompous full-sized fire breathing dragon. As a result, the Patrician of the city Lord Vetinari has not only given them a new tea pot but has given the night watch command of the day and put Vimes in charge of the whole expanded thing. New to the watch include Lance-Constables Angua, a werewolf, Detritus, a troll, and Cuddy, a dwarf, all of whom play a vital role in this novel and set the tradition for all future Watch members to be some sort of monstrous weirdo in some shape or another.

As the title for the book somewhat suggests, this time the city watch have to face a far more realistic threat to the relative peace of Ankh-Morpork; the invention of the Disc's first gonne (one of those metal things that shoot people with powder). Invented by frequently reoccuring Discworld character and Renaissance man Leonard of Quirm, the gonne is stolen by rather downbeat assassin Edward D'eath. D'eath is a class-obsessed monarchist who despises the increased diversity in Morporkian society, and who believes that the real heir to the abandoned lineage of Ankh-Morpork royalty still lives in the city. The reader already knows that he's right,, and it's Carrot. Shortly a series of bloody murders occurs, and Captain Vimes must solve them while having to deal with his upcoming wedding to the richest woman in the city.

Men At Arms is a wonderfully entertaining book about the class system in England and the social trends and changes cause by increased immigration. Though written twenty years ago it's perhaps more relevant now than it was then, though the strength of the characters ensures that the political aspects of Pratchett's writing do not overshadow the development of the plot. Sam Vimes becomes an even better character throughout these pages, as the down-on-his-luck, drowning-in-booze joke of a professional that we first met in Guards! Guards! has quickly become one of the most important men in the city. I love the tongue in cheek humour of Vimes, a man who thoroughly believes himself to be one of the lower class, rising through the ranks to eventual nobility through the careful manipulation of the Patrician, who remains one of the most fascinating characters in the cannon thanks to careful under-exposure.

Men At Arms is a fantastic read on its own, as a sequel, or taken in the context of the whole series. Pratchett captures a cinematic spirit in his creation of the characters, and arguably adds more in this novel to develop the Discworld as an almost living and breathing alternate dimension than in any other. Fully recommended as a five star book, and probably perfect for a high budget adaptation.

Phillip Pullman- The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ

The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ

Canongate

Phillip Pullman

2010

'"But he did heal someone," said the lame man. "Old Hiram. You remember that. He told him to take up his bed and walk."
"Bloody rubbish," said the blind man. "Hiram went as far as the temple gate, then he lay down and went on begging. Old Sarah told me. He said what was the use of taking his living away? Begging was the only thing he knew how to do. You and your blether about goodness," he said, turning to Christ, "where's the goodness in throwing an old man out into the street without a trade, without a home, without a penny? Eh? That Jesus is asking too much of people."'

Before I say anything about Phillip Pullman's The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ I must emphatically tell you, dear reader who doesn't care, that I have an undying love and appreciation for Pullman's well-known magnum opus (for some reason it's been ingrained in me that you have to italicize Latin, so I do it at least some of the time... never mind) the His Dark Materials trilogy. Comprising of Northern Lights, The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass- the former of which was adapted into an extremely disappointing Hollywood film as The Golden Compass. I love and respect these books as much as any classics, and so I will always respect Pullman as an author of the highest regard.

The Dark Materials books gained strong and somewhat inevitable criticism from religious groups, which wasn't surprising seeing as the fundamental premise of the trilogy was essentially an all-out attack on organized religion (though much more complex, creative and wonderful than my clumbsy descriptions could possibly indicate). Pullman was treated as an admittedly less-famous Richard Dawkins by some, though it's clear to anyone who actually read the books that Pullman's style and message resonates much stronger with the genre of romanticism and the poetry, prose and artwork of Blake, Byron, Shelly, Wordsworth and similar contemporaries. While all are obviously very distinctive figures, the key themes are solid, and Pullman strikes me very much as a twentieth century incarnation.

The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ, if we may finally get to it, seems to be a more direct attempt at poking the wounded bear of Christianity. It is nothing less than a rewrite of the New Testament and the life and times of Jesus Christ. On the surface of it this seems like a bit of a dick move, but it's quantified somewhat by the fact that this is part of a dedicated series by publishers Cannongate Books entitled the Cannongate Myth Series, where contemporary authors re-imagine classic mythological stories- though the fact that the Bible is included alongside ancient Greek and Roman myth is probably a careful slap in the face too. Also I can't wait to see who gets to re imagine Islam. Has to be Salmon Rushdie.

When I first heard the title of the book I assumed that it was going to relate somehow to the varying positive and negative viewpoints of Jesus Christ as a symbol and character, but it's initially much more direct than that; Pullman literally (is that a pun?) splits the man in twain, creating the twin brothers Jesus and Christ. Following the pattern of the New Testament, Pullman briefly details the lives of this now family of four, slowly exploring the varying aspects of the titular characters. It is Jesus who displays the magical power of his absent father and eventually becomes an important figure in society, while Christ exists as a more thoughtful, analytical and concerned brother who watches on.

As the story moves through several plot points that you may have heard of before, Pullman's aims become clearer, as this novel tries to define the separation between the church and its god. By this point I'm afraid to say that I was somewhat bored. I'm not sure if I was expecting or wanting a more vindictive, God Delusion-esque attack on the logistics of the Bible but I was hoping for something with the vaguest hint of excitement. Sticking closer to the original stories than you might think, Pullman's thoughtful, even faintly respectable tone towards his subject matter left a lot to be desired. By the point (spoiler warning) Jesus dies and is reborn and such I didn't really care anymore.

I suppose the real problem with this book is that Phillip Pullman already taught his legion of fans to expect more from him. The Dark Materials books connected with millions of people, many of whom grew up with the series and felt a serious attachment to the author. Compared to the power of those books, The Good Man Jesus... falls very flat. The premise of the Cannongate myth series gave Pullman the opportunity to somewhat repeat his prior feats by capturing the attention of readers with the topic and then dazzling them with insight, remixing classical myth with potentially high-end concept religious fantasy, but instead the subdued, lecturing tone cancels this potential out. Obviously I was disappointed, but hopefully this says less about what Pullman seriously might be thinking about writing next, and more about how he approaches lower-profile vanity projects.