Rumour has it that PopCo, first published in the UK by Fourth Estate, did not get the attention it deserved. After the commercial and critical success of The End of Mr. Y, PopCo is being repackaged and rereleased by Canongate (my employer).
The story follows Alice Butler, a young woman (about Scarlett Thomas’ age) who works for PopCo, the world’s third largest toy company (the other two being Mattel and Hasbro). She is at a PopCo retreat when she begins receiving strange coded messages. Her mysterious sender seems to know about her childhood spent solving puzzles, ciphers and codes.
This is a surprise to Alice, as she has kept pretty quiet about her childhood. The novel intersperses her life with her grandparents (her father disappeared when she was nine) and her adult self in the present day. We learn that her grandfather gave her a locket with a strange code engraved on its surface, and asked her to never take it off. We learn that she helped her grandfather in research projects in cryptanalysis, especially in efforts to decode the Voynich manuscript.
Nutshell:PopCo by Scarlett Thomas: Cryptological adventure with shadings of Kurt Vonnegut and Neal Stephenson. Has its slow moments but overall great for those who like puzzles and contemporary stories about real issues.
Historical fiction is really something that should never be confused with period Mills & Boon-type romances. The single sex scene and later, attempted sex scene in Scipio would disqualify it from that genre altogether, being mercifully brief and no mention of throbbing members or tools of love.
(Forgive me, it’s been a long time since I’ve read any historical romances and I’m, frankly, just making things up.)
Scipio is the second book in the trilogy by Ross Leckie. It is being re-issued by my employer, and I read Hannibal much earlier (November 2007). This tells the story of Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus (Wikipedia), a great Roman general. He is the contemporary of Hannibal (Livius.org), and in Scipio we get to see the battles between Carthage and Rome from the other side.
As far as I can tell, without being immortal or knowingly reincarnated from Roman times, this is one heck of a realistic portrayal of life in the late BCs. It could be short and brutal. People certainly weren’t very different, though. Our capacity for evil deeds appears to be endless.
The story is told while Scipio is awaiting the results of his trial — or rather, the appeal by Cato (who really has it in for Scipio). As an elderly gent (although the history books say he died in his early fifties), he is reminiscing about the good and not-so-good events in his life.
I was waiting (and wasn’t disappointed, although disappointed is a really inappropriate word for this) for the Roman account of the rape and brutalisation of Similce, Hannibal’s wife — the single incident that sent him right over the edge. The battles of Cannae and Trasimene were described in an equally bloody manner, maybe worse (because the Romans were the losers).
The artistic licence of using Bostar (Hannibal’s former mapmaker, more on him below) as Scipio’s secretary in his twilight years was really necessary to tie the two men even more closely together (history indicates they may even have died in the same year). I couldn’t help but draw parallels between the two men as I went through the book. In their intelligence and war strategy, they seemed really evenly-matched. In their determination to subjugate one another, they were equals, too (Hannibal was driven by the death of his father, then his wife, and Scipio lost his father to Hannibal). They were contemporaries in almost every sense of the word.
The style of storytelling is different from that of Hannibal — Bostar is a major player in the first account, but it is very much Hannibal’s story. In Scipio, he is actually writing down Scipio’s words, and adding his own asides and stories when Scipio is otherwise occupied.
I’m keen to read Carthage, the concluding part of the trilogy. It tells the story of Hanno, Hannibal’s son. It’ll be published early next year, so hopefully I’ll get to read it in a few months’ time.
Nutshell:Scipio by Ross Leckie: Bold, no-holds-barred fictional account of the great Roman general. Recommended for those who don't mind extreme bloodletting in the name of Rome.
I never thought I could find a book who could match my love for To Kill a Mockingbird, until I read The Changeling.
True, I work for the publisher, but this does not take away from the fact that The Changeling is one of the most amazing short novels ever. So I’m breaking my rule about not talking shop just so I can rave about this book.
I would encourage everyone to go out and buy this book, but I still have a work-personal life line I won’t cross, so get it out at your library, or request it on bookmooch, or RABCK on BookCrossing. I haven’t met a single person who’s read this book and not loved it.
The Changeling is set in 1950s Scotland, on the west coast. Glasgow teacher Charles Forbes is a slightly bumbling, overweight man who one might describe as a tree-huggin’ hippie or bleeding heart liberal in modern parlance. He called to mind, right away, the Modern Parents from Viz. He decides to invite a deprived 13-year old student named Tom Curdie on holiday to the fictional village of Towellan, a place he and his family have enjoyed year after year.
(It leads me to wonder if he’s the only one who thinks the whole family loves it.)
Spoilers below.
You know that things are going to go badly — pretty much from the beginning. Tom is a complex enigma, being kind to his brother and sister, and even a stray cat one minute, and breaking into his school and stealing money (as well as deliberately playing a prank as a fuck you to the teachers) the next.
The late Robin Jenkins, who penned this tale, was clearly a seriously talented man. I found myself as conflicted about how I felt about Tom as the Curdies did. I had no real opinion, then I thought he was bad to the core (and manipulative, too), then I felt sorry for him, and felt increasingly so, right up until the abrupt and shocking ending*.
I’m not going to say what that ending is, but you really feel for Tom as he struggles to stay ‘strong’ and ‘streetwise’ because he knows that after this holiday, the Forbes will go home to their nice house — consciences clear — and Tom has to return to Donaldson’s Court, the slum where his mother, her maimed lover, his brother, and half-sister live.
Boo Radley did not suffer in the same way!
The Changeling makes us think about charity, what is real charity, and what actually helps (rather than harms). On the surface, taking a poor child on vacation with you may seem like the nice thing to do, but on reflection (as everyone in the Forbes family save Charles and his young son Alistair seemed to sense before the holiday actually took place), is it the right thing? It makes us think about our prejudices and assumptions about people, because no one is ever exactly what they seem (a great example is Charles’ mother-in-law, Mrs. Storrocks, who is first exactly what she seems, then she isn’t, then she is again).
On the whole, I would say that The Changeling is one of those books that could change your life — if you’re still young enough to be impressionable, that is. It may be set (and was written) in the 1950s, but the themes of social bias and the questioning of our assumptions are just as relevant today.
* It made me reel, it gave me headspins. The ending is worth crying over.
Gaelic music always sounds slightly melancholy to me, even if the music is upbeat. I think it’s the way it’s sung. It, however, suited the style of films (slightly cheeky while silent, I wish tourism officials would take note of the tone in these — contemporary tourism promotions are so bloody boring). Worthwhile if you are interested in the social history of Scotland.
As Neil likes to say, Mel Gibson directs good movies. Unlike Kevin Costner, he doesn’t try to make himself the hero of an epic tale of love / disaster / triumphing over insurmountable odds. Neil wanted to watch this in the cinema, and I agreed it would probably be a great big-screen outing, but time got away from us and we never got round to it. So when we saw it on sale at Asda, Neil snapped it up.
So, basically, Apocalypto is a movie about a Mayan villager, Jaguar Paw, who sees his village destroyed by ‘big city’ Mayans. They take him (and loads of others) prisoner. They march them — tied — to their city, to face a horrible fate. Jaguar Paw manages to survive and escape (more on this later), driven only by the desire to save his pregnant wife and child.
(This is all on the back of the DVD cover, so none of what I’ve said is a spoiler. But spoilers are below the fold.)
I must admit, I was kind of sceptical when this book was pressed into my hands with the instruction to read it. It’s kind of a cult hit, there are rabid fans, and rabid fans of novels tend to remind me of Neuromancer, which I so did not get into.
However, I was pleasantly surprised. I must say it did take me a while to get into it, but when I was on the bus this morning, racing to the end of the novel, I was definitely in the mood known as ‘completely absorbed’, the kind where I could walk into a wall, cut my arm, and not notice it (yes, I was 11 at the time when this first happened). The plotline’s been described loads of times. Eric Sanderson wakes up with almost complete amnesia. He finds a note to himself and this starts a chain of events that involve a dead lover, a new hot chick named Scout, Dr. Trey Fidorous, conceptual fish (these are the baddies), and a very cool cat named Ian.
I’m not a chick lit reader at the best of times (but at the worst of times, when I’m very bored, I’ll read anything), but when there was a £1 clearance sale at Amazon UK and I felt the obligation to buy books that I could share with those situated close to me (read: Neil’s mother and sister, who are both chick lit readers), I took the plunge and risked it.
It starts off promisingly enough. I was quite interested in the telling of each woman’s tale, how each of them is so different from the rest, but they were all best friends due to circumstances two decades ago. It made me think of what the expatriate situation was like in Xiamen (before so many expats arrived in 2005-6), everyone had to be friends because we were all strangers in a (comparatively) strange land.
The synopsis is this: six women, all long-time friends, are meeting on what will be the coldest night of the year, to celebrate the impending arrival of a baby.
It is a good phone, the only thing that annoys me is how bloody long it takes to start up and why do I need to periodically reboot in order to access the music I’ve stored on my microSD card?
Just because it’s Adam Sandler doesn’t mean it has to be stupid, right? It was really funny, sometimes juvenile (oh, that fart), but it was clever. I look around me and I see people trying to use their own universal remote all the time.
Want to be skinny but not bother with bothersome things like exercise and a sensible diet, the slow but most effective way to achieve and maintain a healthy weight? No need to avoid your favourite foods, just take this pill and you can watch the pounds melt away! You can even sit and watch television all night and you’ll lose weight.
Want to be white as a sheet? Don’t worry about high factor sun screen, just use this peel-off face mask and you can spend all day in the sun and still look fair.
I think our societies today are so wrapped up in quick results, instant gratification, that no one thinks about consequences any more. You choose to do something, and there will be a reaction. You are responsible for your actions. Maybe we don’t want to face what stuffing our faces with junk food means for our bodies, so we get on the latest diet pill or fad diet, and the problem gets swept under the proverbial carpet. Maybe screwing someone over in business will get you a quick profit today, but what happens next year, when you really need a favour?
Click is about being responsible for your choices. It’s a funny movie, no doubt, but there is a message. One day, you will have to face the consequences of your actions. Will we realise too late, when we’re at the end and really wish we could be given a second chance, or will we all do our best to soldier through things we find unpleasant, because we really only live once?
Singapore is comparatively cool and dry after a roastingly hot June and July in Xiamen. Never thought I’d see the day when I’d think Singapore wasn’t super hot. Hehe.
Went to MAAD. ‘Twas a touch disappointed that the venue was smaller than expected — but hey, they’re just starting, right? Saw some cool things and great ideas. Also saw someone who designs then contracts the ‘handmade’ production to artisans in India. That’s cheating, in my opinion.
Saw Superman Returns and Thank You For Smoking. I love salted popcorn.
Bought that Dopod. Neil runs down the battery playing the default games. Bought a new laptop. It should be delivered later this week.
Collected my stash from various craft swaps. The haul is in-fucking-credible. I love craft swaps. I visited the bead shops in Chinatown today and bought many things. Made my first pair of earrings. Not exactly a professional job, but they’ll hold and I now have a pair of earrings that match the garnet pendant I got in India.
Completed a lot of editorial for the next issue of What’s On Xiamen. Yes. Really.
My first time online in a week. I could get used to this!
It is perhaps appropriate that I purchased and watched A Dirty Shame yesterday. It’s the latest film directed by John Waters (which should tell you everything you need to know about the type of film it is). I, on the other hand, had not realised it was a John Waters film until the credits rolled, so imagine my delight.
It’s not really a film that can be spoiled in any way, so here’s what it’s about. It’s about sex addicts, starring Tracey Ullman, Johnny Knoxville, Chris Isaak, and Selma Blair. John Waters sets up situations (accidental concussions spark a complete loosening of inhibitions and the sufferers begin to openly indulge their deepest, darkest fetishes) and it all just goes crazy. Like all his films I’ve seen thus far (Cry-Baby, Polyester, Pink Flamingos, Desperate Living), it’s rude and shocking, but it’s not in any way pornographic. No where is there in-your-face nudity (a bloke’s arse is shown at one point and Selma Blair’s prosthetic boobs come out to play — update: on a second viewing, there were two scenes of full frontal nudity, but they were so ridiculous and it felt completely non-sexual to me), nowhere is there sexual intercourse (but there are fully-clothed simulations), but what perhaps flies in the face of ‘public decency’ is an open acceptance (? perhaps more like acknowledgement) of sexual diversity and fetish. S&M doesn’t even get a mention here, it’s probably too vanilla.
The core aim of the movie, it appears, especially in the cast and crew interviews, is to bring to the (over 17 years of age) public’s attention the fact that sex between consensual partners is not bad or evil or dirty, it just is what it is. Although this film confronts a US audience, I think this applies to Singapore too, where homosexuals (especially men) are now being discriminated against ‘for their own good’ (no public parties, no casual sex, no HIV — QED?) and where a girl’s nude, non-gynaecological photo is the talk of the town. Our public face is this Pleasantville-like facade, and not so far under the surface lurk diverse opinions, dreams, and desires, sexual or otherwise. We may not need to approve, on a personal level, every single thing, but we at least need to acknowledge they exist and not pretend that if we ignore or ban them, they will go away.
I do agree with the Big Ethel character that sometimes political correctness can go too far, though.
All in all, a good film and it made me laugh, especially to see Tracey Ullman be a ‘cunnilingus bottom’ addict.
This was on HBO just a couple of days ago. I’ve been sceptical of contemporary horror films since I was made to watch Scream, but the starring presence of Tony Shalhoub convinced me to sit down and watch.
After binge watching Monk over one weekend, I’ve forever connected the character of Adrian Monk with Tony Shalhoub. This meant that when the glory of the house was revealed, I was expecting him to flip out and try to clean all the floor to ceiling glass walls.
Aside from my typecasting the poor man, I thought the film was a little lame, but watchable. Matthew Lillard’s appearance makes my day. He rocks.
Following Thir13en Ghosts was Auto Focus, the biographical film about the life and death of actor Bob Crane. I enjoyed Hogan’s Heroes when I saw the reruns, although they weren’t on much. I want to know how historically correct the film is, mainly the part where Bob freaks at John for putting his hand on the former’s arse during an ‘orgy’. If Bob is dead, and John is dead, and they were the only ones in the room while Bob was flipping out, how does anyone know?
Again, an okay film, but nothing to write home about (but apparently something to write a weblog post about).
Rumour has it that PopCo, first published in the UK by Fourth Estate, did not get the attention it deserved. After the commercial and critical success of The End of Mr. Y, PopCo is being repackaged and rereleased by Canongate (my employer).
