Read: 11
BOTM: H. Mantel, Wolf Hall
W. Cather, My Ántonia
S. Excritt, Art Nouveau
V. Hunt, Why not eat insects?
S.S. Montefiore, Jerusalem
J. Morris, Coronation Everest
G. Swift, Last Orders
J.K. Toole, A confederacy of dunces
P.G. Wodehouse, Jeeves in the offing
P.G. Wodehouse, Stiff Upper Lip, Jeeves
P.G. Wodehouse, Much Obliged, Jeeves
Honourable mention for My Ántonia (which was surprisingly good), but Wolf Hall was great. I was a little sceptical at first - not all historical novels of major protagonists work. But this was outstanding, and fully deserving of its Booker. It even managed to sustain an interesting plot, which is some achievement given we know how the story ends.
Thursday, 2 June 2011
Sunday, 29 May 2011
Hear this Robert Zimmerman
I've had several goes at this this week, but I kept changing my mind. And now it's late. The tagline by the way is the opening line from probably the best song about Dylan, Bowie's Song for Bob Dylan, where he compares the voice with sand and glue (as such, it's therefore not an invocation for the great man to read this blog).
Anyway, Bowie's song was written about forty years ago, and I had constructed an elaborate theory on the bike to work on Monday about Dylan's reputation being essentially solidified by a relatively small number of songs - i.e., we'd be reading the same articles about him if his body of work was much smaller, provided it had the key tracks in (this, by the way would be true of any artist). This article is helpful for this theory, because it essentially says, Dylan is great because of:
But I've been listening to Dylan all week, and come to the considered conclusion that that's nonsense - like some of the inexplicable other evidence in the Independent article (writing Tarantula (#20) is not a reason for greatness - rather the reverse). In fact, while the best ten Dylan tracks stand up against the best ten from anyone else, actually it's the vast depth of his output that makes him great. So, that's not a bad list above, but it's just too short. I've no intention of writing a full list of what you would need to capture most of the reputation of his Bobness, but here are the obvious ones missing for me:
This is a spur of the moment list, so I've obviously missed plenty off. A quick check of my most played tracks suggest in reality I should give space to Positively 4th street, Chimes of Freedom, My Back Pages, Love minus zero and Can you please crawl out your window ahead of some of these. So give them honourable mentions.
However, like Dylan, I'm in favour of these things being done quickly (like his records) and reflecting the vision at one point in time, not a long drawn out thought process. So, while there's more to be said here, others have said it. I simply wanted to show is that we could take away a sheaf of his greatest achievements and we'd still be celebrating the 70th birthday of a man that could go toe to toe on reputation with other popular music figures. With them, he's unassailable.
So, a belated happy birthday Bob, and thanks for everything.
Anyway, Bowie's song was written about forty years ago, and I had constructed an elaborate theory on the bike to work on Monday about Dylan's reputation being essentially solidified by a relatively small number of songs - i.e., we'd be reading the same articles about him if his body of work was much smaller, provided it had the key tracks in (this, by the way would be true of any artist). This article is helpful for this theory, because it essentially says, Dylan is great because of:
- Blowin' in the Wind (1963)
- A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall (1963)
- It Ain't Me, Babe (1964)
- Visions of Johanna (1966)
- Mr Tambourine Man (1965)
- Subterranean Homesick Blues (1965)
- Like a Rolling Stone (1965)
- Highway 61 Revisited (1965)
But I've been listening to Dylan all week, and come to the considered conclusion that that's nonsense - like some of the inexplicable other evidence in the Independent article (writing Tarantula (#20) is not a reason for greatness - rather the reverse). In fact, while the best ten Dylan tracks stand up against the best ten from anyone else, actually it's the vast depth of his output that makes him great. So, that's not a bad list above, but it's just too short. I've no intention of writing a full list of what you would need to capture most of the reputation of his Bobness, but here are the obvious ones missing for me:
- Masters of War (1963), which has probably his best ever line - 'you've thrown the worst fear that can ever be hurled [and it's the hurled that makes it so good], the fear to bring children into the world'
- Talkin' John Birch Paranoid Blues (c.1964) - because everyone forgets that Bob is often funny and still is (see also the recent Po'boy 'called down to room service, send me a room'
- Only a pawn in the game (1964)
- Bob Dylan's 115th Dream (1965), which is a personal favourite, rather than an absolute classic. I can remember where I heard it, and it's sense of fun is infectious
- It's all over now, Baby Blue (1965). When he famously went electric at Newport, everyone talks about the electric set, but this is the final song, when he was persuaded to do a acoustic song. The version is available on one of the bootleg series and that version is chilling
- I'll be your baby tonight (1967); Drifter's escape (1967). John Wesley Harding is overlooked as a album, but it's a classic and the final track is the best of the lot, a low-key love song filled with gentle energy that has always remained with me, while Drifter's escape is filled with mischievous fun, and always a pleasure to listen to.
- If you see her, say hello (1975). Just one of the saddest, loveliest songs ever written. Overshadowed by the pyrotechnics on rest of the record, but more impressive than the rest of them in the long run.
- Hurricane (1976). A superlative protest song a decade after he was supposed to have stopped writing them
- Honest with me (2001). I've always been confused by the inexplicable popularity of Time out of Mind, which to me has always been a mess of too-much-listening-to-jazz, while the follow up Love and Theft is a much better record, deft and assured, and this is a great thumper of a track.
This is a spur of the moment list, so I've obviously missed plenty off. A quick check of my most played tracks suggest in reality I should give space to Positively 4th street, Chimes of Freedom, My Back Pages, Love minus zero and Can you please crawl out your window ahead of some of these. So give them honourable mentions.
However, like Dylan, I'm in favour of these things being done quickly (like his records) and reflecting the vision at one point in time, not a long drawn out thought process. So, while there's more to be said here, others have said it. I simply wanted to show is that we could take away a sheaf of his greatest achievements and we'd still be celebrating the 70th birthday of a man that could go toe to toe on reputation with other popular music figures. With them, he's unassailable.
So, a belated happy birthday Bob, and thanks for everything.
Wednesday, 11 May 2011
Love the legacy
They buried Ballesteros today; and I didn't really have time to notice, which is a shame.
I was too young to see him in his pomp, though I have of course seen the footage since. By the time I started following golf, even cursorily, in 1993, he was fading, though he had a couple of Ryder cups left and even won the odd tournament.
But he was a titan of the previous decade and a bit, and - as every obituary has made clear - one of a tiny number of sportsmen to genuinely change their sport. I don't mean in achievement: his record is impressive, but it didn't redefine the era. Nor in style, though the manner he played is still magical. But he literally changed the geography and contours of professional golf and he created one of the few major competitions in English sport where people genuinely want the Germans to win.
It's not clear exactly how he did this. He was described as being the vanguard of European golf , but a brief look at the 1979 Ryder cup suggests that although he was one of the two first non Brits to play, he and they were rubbish, and he didn't play in the thrashing in 1981. By the time the Europeans had assembled a competitive team it had a raft of Spaniards and Langer in it. But, it will always be Ballesteros who remains at the heart of those 1980s teams and he lives long in the centre of folk memory. When we won the Ryder cup back in Wales, they revealed they'd had an image of Seve in the dressing room throughout. And he was as ever-present in the speeches as he was on the course in 1997, in captaincy.
So, whether he is missed because of what he had come to represent or what he was, it's fitting that he is. Few can do what he did, and no-one else would have had so much fun doing it.
I was too young to see him in his pomp, though I have of course seen the footage since. By the time I started following golf, even cursorily, in 1993, he was fading, though he had a couple of Ryder cups left and even won the odd tournament.
But he was a titan of the previous decade and a bit, and - as every obituary has made clear - one of a tiny number of sportsmen to genuinely change their sport. I don't mean in achievement: his record is impressive, but it didn't redefine the era. Nor in style, though the manner he played is still magical. But he literally changed the geography and contours of professional golf and he created one of the few major competitions in English sport where people genuinely want the Germans to win.
It's not clear exactly how he did this. He was described as being the vanguard of European golf , but a brief look at the 1979 Ryder cup suggests that although he was one of the two first non Brits to play, he and they were rubbish, and he didn't play in the thrashing in 1981. By the time the Europeans had assembled a competitive team it had a raft of Spaniards and Langer in it. But, it will always be Ballesteros who remains at the heart of those 1980s teams and he lives long in the centre of folk memory. When we won the Ryder cup back in Wales, they revealed they'd had an image of Seve in the dressing room throughout. And he was as ever-present in the speeches as he was on the course in 1997, in captaincy.
So, whether he is missed because of what he had come to represent or what he was, it's fitting that he is. Few can do what he did, and no-one else would have had so much fun doing it.
Sunday, 1 May 2011
Bibliography, April 2011
Read: 13
BOTM - C.L.R. James, Beyond a Boundary
J. Austen, Persuasion (K)
J. Austen, Sense and Sensibility (K)
D. Eddings, The Belgariad, 5 vols*
C.S. Lewis, Four Loves
Muraski Shikibu, The Tale of Genji, chs 1-17 (K)
A.Trollope, The Claverings (K)
M. Twain, The adventures of Tom Sawyer (K)
P.G. Wodehouse, Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit
I'm not surprised by BOTM this time, given it is famously the best book ever written on cricket, though more on that later. I should give honourable mentions to some of the others though - Both of Austen were brilliant, though Persuasion edges its more famous counterpart, and The Claverings an underrated gem from Trollope. I have loved and reread before the Belgariad, an extensive fantasy sequence, and I stand by the judgement I made at 12 - it's brilliant. However, James was better.
However, I am not sure James is brilliant for the reason that is over given - its account of the racism rife in West Indian cricket before and just after the war. That is rather the minor theme running through the book which comes to glorious fruition at the end of the book. No, actually the best sections in the splendid book are James' account of the Victorian origins of cricket, closely followed by the description of an island obsessed by cricket (Trinidad) and the pen portraits of its great stars and their club environment. James' particular perspective - an intellectually brilliant black West Indian educated in the tradition of the British public school system. Having imbibed its ethos (one suspects better than most British natives) he able to create a beautiful and insightful view on the schools and the development of organised games within the Empire, as well an encomium to W.G. Grace. All are better than any account I have read on the subject.
BOTM - C.L.R. James, Beyond a Boundary
J. Austen, Persuasion (K)
J. Austen, Sense and Sensibility (K)
D. Eddings, The Belgariad, 5 vols*
C.S. Lewis, Four Loves
Muraski Shikibu, The Tale of Genji, chs 1-17 (K)
A.Trollope, The Claverings (K)
M. Twain, The adventures of Tom Sawyer (K)
P.G. Wodehouse, Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit
I'm not surprised by BOTM this time, given it is famously the best book ever written on cricket, though more on that later. I should give honourable mentions to some of the others though - Both of Austen were brilliant, though Persuasion edges its more famous counterpart, and The Claverings an underrated gem from Trollope. I have loved and reread before the Belgariad, an extensive fantasy sequence, and I stand by the judgement I made at 12 - it's brilliant. However, James was better.
However, I am not sure James is brilliant for the reason that is over given - its account of the racism rife in West Indian cricket before and just after the war. That is rather the minor theme running through the book which comes to glorious fruition at the end of the book. No, actually the best sections in the splendid book are James' account of the Victorian origins of cricket, closely followed by the description of an island obsessed by cricket (Trinidad) and the pen portraits of its great stars and their club environment. James' particular perspective - an intellectually brilliant black West Indian educated in the tradition of the British public school system. Having imbibed its ethos (one suspects better than most British natives) he able to create a beautiful and insightful view on the schools and the development of organised games within the Empire, as well an encomium to W.G. Grace. All are better than any account I have read on the subject.
Wednesday, 20 April 2011
Is this the best bar in the world? (with a short discourse on Tokyo)
We never intended to go to Matsumoto. Some FCO advice to not go to Tokyo meant we did some hasty rejigging of our Japanese itinerary from Beijing and we booked two nights in this mountain city near(ish) Tokyo for our final few days. However, I am delighted we did - it's a gem.
There are only two sights in Matsumoto - the castle is magnificent and its setting in the Japanese Alps couldn't be better. Every view of the castle is framed by them on the horizon or - in our case - the cherry blossom around the park. Inside the castle has all the cool things (arrow and musket holes, two moats, hidden floors) that we have come to expect, and the views from the top were fantastic. Secondly, Matsumoto has the Ukiyo-e museum, the most expensive museum we've been to in Japan (but still less than St Paul's, even for churchgoers who pay for its upkeep - but I digress) but was worth it. They - woodblock prints - are exquisite. Anna was beside herself with excitement, and I thought it was ace. We're now a little poorer and spent much of the next few days struggling to work out how to bring back a handmade copy back to the UK without damaging it, but we did it.
However, these pale into insignificance beside my discovery of what is essentially the best bar in the world, called I think Jun. On our lovely Ryokan's hand drawn map of the city, there was a little bar to the north which simply said 'if you like whiskey and Monty Python' - we went. It was amazing and a labour of love for the owners even if not with the public (it wasn't busy even on a Friday). The bar, walls and even the floor were up to three deep in whiskey with piles of publications relating to whisky in the common area. The walls were covered with film posters, with the Rocky Horror Picture Show prominently displayed and stills of Dylan and the Doors by the entrance. The bar area were covered with Python cards and the flags of all the home nations adorned the top and ceiling. Save for a lack of reference to Byzantine and early Christian history and a lack of port I could have designed it. Anna at one point opined that she wasn't sure it was real and not called forth from my imagination. The owner was delightful and took us through some (very lovely) Japanese whisky, even throwing some little side tastings of interesting whiskies for free. Despite this, it was hideously expensive, but it was totally worth it.
Tokyo was a bit of a disappointment after this, but fun enough. I'm glad we cut down to a day there as a lot of the city was still subdued - early closing for museums, some escalators not working etc. However, even at full tilt I'm not sure how much I would have liked it - too many people, too little to see. That said, we had a very jolly evening there on our last night and much sushi to remember Japan by.
There are only two sights in Matsumoto - the castle is magnificent and its setting in the Japanese Alps couldn't be better. Every view of the castle is framed by them on the horizon or - in our case - the cherry blossom around the park. Inside the castle has all the cool things (arrow and musket holes, two moats, hidden floors) that we have come to expect, and the views from the top were fantastic. Secondly, Matsumoto has the Ukiyo-e museum, the most expensive museum we've been to in Japan (but still less than St Paul's, even for churchgoers who pay for its upkeep - but I digress) but was worth it. They - woodblock prints - are exquisite. Anna was beside herself with excitement, and I thought it was ace. We're now a little poorer and spent much of the next few days struggling to work out how to bring back a handmade copy back to the UK without damaging it, but we did it.
However, these pale into insignificance beside my discovery of what is essentially the best bar in the world, called I think Jun. On our lovely Ryokan's hand drawn map of the city, there was a little bar to the north which simply said 'if you like whiskey and Monty Python' - we went. It was amazing and a labour of love for the owners even if not with the public (it wasn't busy even on a Friday). The bar, walls and even the floor were up to three deep in whiskey with piles of publications relating to whisky in the common area. The walls were covered with film posters, with the Rocky Horror Picture Show prominently displayed and stills of Dylan and the Doors by the entrance. The bar area were covered with Python cards and the flags of all the home nations adorned the top and ceiling. Save for a lack of reference to Byzantine and early Christian history and a lack of port I could have designed it. Anna at one point opined that she wasn't sure it was real and not called forth from my imagination. The owner was delightful and took us through some (very lovely) Japanese whisky, even throwing some little side tastings of interesting whiskies for free. Despite this, it was hideously expensive, but it was totally worth it.
Tokyo was a bit of a disappointment after this, but fun enough. I'm glad we cut down to a day there as a lot of the city was still subdued - early closing for museums, some escalators not working etc. However, even at full tilt I'm not sure how much I would have liked it - too many people, too little to see. That said, we had a very jolly evening there on our last night and much sushi to remember Japan by.
Monday, 18 April 2011
The Birmingham of Japan
A & I have been trying to work out which UK cities Japanese cities correspond to. It doesn't really work that well - Osaka is probably a bit like Manchester, but clearly better, and while it's hard to pigeonhole Kyoto, though it may be a bit like a supercharged Oxford. However, Fukuoka is definitely like Birmingham. Everyone we told that we were going there asked us why? We had to explain that we were using it as a base for Nagasaki and Beppu. There is very little to do in Fukuoka, but it has a string of bars and good transport links. Just like Birmingham, though probably warmer.
As indicated, we didn't actually spend any time in the city itself during the day, though the bars were fun - A in particular liked a bar that had impromptu karaoke with her, a random Korean and a Japanese businessman. I preferred the sushi restaurant where I could get horsemeat sushi. However, both Nagasaki and Beppu were fantastic visits. Beppu is a little ridiculous, having some splendidly kitsch and overblown 'hells' or hot springs. But they were much fun, and there's a great gimmicky restaurant by the Tourist Information, where you can cook your lunch in the steam. In fact, there was steam everywhere - we saw some coming up from a hole in the tarmac in a car park. It's put to best use in the onsen of course. Nagasaki was less absurd, with the inevitable memorials to the bomb, though Hiroshima did it better, and the less said about the nonsensical peace statue the better. However, the museum was still moving. Better were the string of temples to the south and the Glover gardens. I hadn't realised how international the city had been, and the legacy of this internationality and Christianity shines through. It also had Anna's favourite beer and gyoza bar where we spent one of our favourite early evenings of the holiday.
Oh, and the regional speciality of Kyushu (the western island where all these are located) is Shochu. Do not drink it ever; it was used as a disinfectant in the Edo period - this seems as appropriate now as then.
As indicated, we didn't actually spend any time in the city itself during the day, though the bars were fun - A in particular liked a bar that had impromptu karaoke with her, a random Korean and a Japanese businessman. I preferred the sushi restaurant where I could get horsemeat sushi. However, both Nagasaki and Beppu were fantastic visits. Beppu is a little ridiculous, having some splendidly kitsch and overblown 'hells' or hot springs. But they were much fun, and there's a great gimmicky restaurant by the Tourist Information, where you can cook your lunch in the steam. In fact, there was steam everywhere - we saw some coming up from a hole in the tarmac in a car park. It's put to best use in the onsen of course. Nagasaki was less absurd, with the inevitable memorials to the bomb, though Hiroshima did it better, and the less said about the nonsensical peace statue the better. However, the museum was still moving. Better were the string of temples to the south and the Glover gardens. I hadn't realised how international the city had been, and the legacy of this internationality and Christianity shines through. It also had Anna's favourite beer and gyoza bar where we spent one of our favourite early evenings of the holiday.
Oh, and the regional speciality of Kyushu (the western island where all these are located) is Shochu. Do not drink it ever; it was used as a disinfectant in the Edo period - this seems as appropriate now as then.
Bibliography, March 2011
Read: 10
BOTM - J. Steinbeck, East of Eden*
J. Austen, Mansfield Park (K)
A. Cobban, A history of modern France vol 3
Confucius, Analects (K)
C. Dickens, A tale of two cities (K)
G. Eliot, Adam Bede (K)
P. Highsmith, The talented Mr Ripley
W. Scott, Ivanhoe (K)
J. Swift, Gulliver's Travels (K)
Wu Cheng'en, Journey to the west (K)
I expected to read more in China, but was defeated by a tendency to go to sleep on long train journeys and the vast length of the Journey to the west, which went on for ever. Anyway, none of my books read in China (note the kindle marks - an unqualified triumph as a travel tool) could hold a candle to East of Eden (another reread), which is stunning in scope, written beautifully, and powerful throughout. I read it in 2002 first and so it's been a while since I looked at it, but it's got better with time.
BOTM - J. Steinbeck, East of Eden*
J. Austen, Mansfield Park (K)
A. Cobban, A history of modern France vol 3
Confucius, Analects (K)
C. Dickens, A tale of two cities (K)
G. Eliot, Adam Bede (K)
P. Highsmith, The talented Mr Ripley
W. Scott, Ivanhoe (K)
J. Swift, Gulliver's Travels (K)
Wu Cheng'en, Journey to the west (K)
I expected to read more in China, but was defeated by a tendency to go to sleep on long train journeys and the vast length of the Journey to the west, which went on for ever. Anyway, none of my books read in China (note the kindle marks - an unqualified triumph as a travel tool) could hold a candle to East of Eden (another reread), which is stunning in scope, written beautifully, and powerful throughout. I read it in 2002 first and so it's been a while since I looked at it, but it's got better with time.
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