Back From Toronto

I'm back and I hope to be posting some comments on the films we saw in Toronto. But right now I only have time for a quick post before bedtime.

First I would like to thank Jaquandor, who apparently has been reading my blog. He is the only reader I didn't personally harangue. He e-mailed me with some help on how to solve my italics problem. His suggestion did the trick, and now I suggest you all bop over to take a look at his blog Byzantium's Shores. It is a veritable stately pleasure dome, especially when compared to my little tree fort clubhouse over here. You'll like it. He reads, and he can write.

A major component of the Toronto Film Festival involves queueing up, and unlike here in the States you see many people reading while standing on line. My wife and I were looking at a day with some very long waits for particularly popular films and found ourselves with nothing to read. Luckily we were in Toronto where if there isn't a bookstore on the block then the next block will probably have two, so it was a simple matter for us to duck out of line and into a discount remainder store to pick up a couple of beater copies of something that we wouldn't mind bending or shoving in a purse or pocket.

She picked up A Killing Frost,, third book in the Tomorrow series by Australian writer John Marsden. We hadn't read any of the other books in the series, but it caught my eye because Marsden had written the text for an incredible picture book, The Rabbits, illustrated by the Australian artist Shaun Tan.

Shaun Tan's books are inexplicably unavailable in the US . Find them somehow. Order them from Australia if you must. It is cheaper than you think. US dollars are worth almost double what the Australian dollar is worth, so you can basically cut the prices in half. Dymocks has The Lost Thing and The Red Tree available. Both written and illustrated by Shaun Tan. Both wonderful. Both truly all-ages appropriate. Adults will find depths that the kids will miss, but the kids will probably notice stuff that the adults didn't see.

A Killing Frost originally titled The Third Day, The Frost was aimed at a Young Adult readership, but my wife says it isn't written down. The series is up to seven books, and all have been published or will be published in the US. A handful of Australian teenagers return from a camping trip in the bush to find an invading army has occupied their country. Now they must struggle to survive and ultimately fight back. The first book was Tomorrow, When the War Began, but starting with book three didn't seem to be a problem.

I grabbed the Blue Murder series reissue of Michael Avallone's Shock Corridor for $1.50 Canadian. It is an adaptation of Sam Fuller's screenplay. And what pulpy fun it is. If you don't know the film the premise is fairly simple. Journalist Johnny Barrett feigns an incestuous desire for his sister, actually his singing stripper girlfriend posing as his sister, so he can get himself committed and investigate a murder that took place in the State Mental Hospital. A sample will suffice to represent the whole.

I think my favorite scene is when Johnny accidentally stumbles into the "nympho ward". Avallone really works it. Imagine the terror of all that lusting female flesh.

"The damp press of bodies against him was delerium. Breasts crushed his face. Wet mouths suckled at his shoulders, tore at his uniform. He felt teeth sink into his exposed neck. He screamed and hit out. Somebody cursed. Another laughed. A gorgeous nympho with straggly hair."

"A gorgeous face loomed before him. Wild eyes beseeched him. 'You're mine, mine, mine, all mine-'"

"The gorgeous nympho pressed her body to his face, butting him with her exposed breasts."

"The world reeled dizzily, urged on by the hoarse shouts of the women of the nympho ward"

Any way you get the idea. Johnny does survive that encounter. The whole scene reminded me of something our friend Bret had said the day before. Walking past The Brass Rail on Yonge Street and seeing a sign proclaiming "142 All Nude Lap Dancers" he said, "that would crush a normal man."

Blame it on Reagan. His cutbacks emptied the Nympho Wards in the early 80's. Where did they expect all those poor gorgeous sex mad cuties with their "crushing" and "butting" breasts to go? I guess it was about creating jobs after all. (insert your own "trickle down" joke here).

Last and First Lines

I don't really have time for preamble as I am scrambling to get ready for Toronto, but before I go on a brief hiatus I will give the source for yesterday's Last and First Lines. They are from A Judgement in Stone by Ruth Rendell. Published in 1977 It is perhaps her darkest book. Although since I have read no other Ruth Rendell I am relying on the kindness of strangers for that information. I also saw a filmed adaptation a few years ago at the Cleveland Film festival titled The Ceremony directed by Claude Chabrol, who directed the classic Diabolique (the original).

I hope to post from Toronto, but If not I will return after Sept. 10. I also hope to figure out why all the previous posts in September are suddenly in italics. Any helpful suggestions would be appreciated.

Last and First Lines

Some of you may have recognized yesterday's lines by the helpful hint of the character's name in the last line. If not then I'll tell you Cora Papadakis, was married to that greasy Greek, Nick Papadakis, and conspired to murder him with Frank Chambers (who is the first person narrator). In the movie these two "lovers" (they end up turning on each other) were played by Lana Turner and John Garfield or Jessica Lange and Jack Nicholson (depending on how old you are). The book is of course The Postman Always Rings Twice by James M. Cain.

That first line drops you into Frank's story in medias res as they used to say in ancient Rome, and from there the story takes off, or actually spirals downward, at top speed. Tom Wolfe in the introduction to Cain X 3, which reprinted Postman.. along with Mildred Pierce and Double Indemnity , said that what Cain had like nobody else was "acceleration". At least until the final pathetic end on death row where Frank, headed for the gas chamber, still hopes to be together with Cora "wherever it is" (the sap) . Well, your looking at a murder rap pal. I think we all know "wherever". Ain't love grand!

Today's lines are from another mystery, rather more recent, British, and written by a women, but no less noir than Cain's classic. And as an added bonus the first line also helps point out the importance of literacy.

First Line: "Eunice Parchman killed the Coverdale family because she couldn't read or write."

Last Line "Dust, Ashes, Waste, Want, Ruin, Despair, Madness, Death, Cunning, Folly, Words, Wigs, Rags, Sheepskin, Plunder, Precedent, Jargon, Gammon, and Spinach."

Last and First Lines

As I said before the first thing an opening line needs to do is take hold of you and propel you. I have a few in mind that I thought notable for the way they impel you forward into the story. Here is the first from a hard-boiled classic.

First line: "They threw me off the hay truck about noon."

Last Lines: "Here they come. Father McConnell says prayers help. If you've got this far, send one up for me, and Cora, and make it that we're together, wherever it is."

Quotation is the Sincerest Form Of Flattery

I have always loved a good quotation. My history of quoting, alluding, paraphrasing, and parodying goes back to childhood. Even before I was a reader (and I started rather late in life) I would constantly pepper my conversation (which tended to be one-sided) with catchphases, movie lines, song lyrics, comedy routines, and any other scrap of word, phrase, or line that had managed to stick to my brain. I don't think this made me unusual. It did make me annoying. And when I did become a reader in High School that just gave me more of a verbal junk drawer to draw on.

I don't think this makes me special. Most readers I know are like this. It's one of the things that makes them fun and interesting people to talk to, and one of the more beneficial things about being widely read is that you have that much more stuff to draw on to colour your language and conversation and writing and that much more you "get" in the talk and writing of other people. That is all good. Imagine reading T.S. Eliot with out a clue to all of the myriad other works of literature to which he is alluding. It's just not possible. "The Wasteland" is a poem with footnotes for God's sake!

I recall, only partially, a quotation that sums up what I mean (I am desperately looking for the exact quote and the source by the way if you have any ideas let me know). It goes something like "there are only two types of conversation of any interest: conversation between lovers and conversation between book-lovers. And the lovers conversation is only of interest to them."

Of course, in college I had a way of quoting and footnoting in the course of the conversation that may have been a little excessive. People came to expect esoteric and trivial references from me, so if I would actually manage to coin an original phrase my girlfriend would still always ask me "Who said that?"

What I would like to start doing here is drop in the occassional quotation, usually from my current reading, but also the occasional oldie but goody from memory, or commonplace book (which I have never been vary dilligent about keeping), or written on a scrap of paper I have stuck in an box or drawer somewhere.

Right now I am reading The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall, and I came across this passage which says something pertinent to the sharing of a love of books.

"Sir Philip and his daughter had a new common interest; they could now discuss books and the making of books and the feel and the smell and the essence of books - a mighty bond this, and one full of enchantment."

We should all be so lucky to find such a person to share with. By the way someday I'll tell you my feelings about the "smell of books". Such bliss we can derive from all aspects of books! Shantih shantih shantih.

Department of Last and First Lines

Let's review. Yesterday we had two quotations, the first and last lines, from a literary work. You have had time to ponder, and now I shall reveal the source. The lines are from Last and First Men: A Story of the Near and Far Future by Olaf Stapledon.

Published in 1931 Last and First Men covers the entire 5 Billion years of future human history beginning with our own war torn present and ending with the dying of the Last Men on Neptune. In 5 Billion years, of course, alot can happen, and Humanity continues to evolve and change nearly beyond recognition. I once read an interview with Robin Williams where he referred to reading Stapledon as "metaphysical therapy", and you will certainly have your perspective expanded by reading Last and First Men.

The sort of sequel to Last and First Men , and probably Stapledon's masterpiece, is Star Maker. The five billion years of the earlier book are just a blip in the dizzying sweep of Star Maker, which is a sort of history of intellegence in the universe.

Not really novels in the conventional sense, these two works are filled with enough invention, speculation, profound mysticism, science, and philosophy to fuel hundreds of less ambitious works. And, in fact, they probably have. Science fiction writers have, knowingly or unknowingly, been riffing on or ripping off Stapledon's work now for nearly 75 years.

The choice of this work as my first Last and First Lines selection was, of course, my own little in-joke for myself. Yeah, I know. Lame.

Tomorrow look for another installment from the Department of Last and First Lines.

Department of Last and First Lines

Often the most important part of a book is that first line. Immediately you know if you are in good hands if the first or opening lines grab you and propel you forward. The opening can instantly set the scene or the mood with a few deft strokes. It can give you a character, who you just have to know. A situation that you must see through to the end. Some times a few lines can open a theme or start a train of though that will build like a symphony, but it is those first few notes (to continue the musical analogy which I will now, mercifully, drop) that hook you and lead you on to a hopefully satisfying resolution.

And resolution is what last lines are all about. You have made the journey, stayed the course, seen the sights (to start a travel analogy which I will not belabor) and at the end of the road you need a summing up, a conclusion that will put the whole story in perspective, or perhaps give it one final twist. Or maybe you need a philosophical reflection to leave you satisfied with the outcome of the story; something to mull over when you close the cover. Maybe the author doesn't want to give you that catharsis. Maybe you will be left with some bitter irony to chew on. Still a good ending should feel right, satisfying, but should also send you off on your own to ponder what you have just read. It is a start as well as a finish.

In the best books you are in dialogue with the author. He or she gives you something that he thinks is worth your while. Worth your time. Worth your money even. But in return you can take off from there. Bring something from your life, your experience, your sensibility, and make it your own, more personal, more significant to you, however intangible it may be.

Sometimes, even though I can remember almost nothing particular about a book I have read, the reading of it still exists for me as a whole thing. Not solid or tangible, but still real. A noun or a verb, I'm not sure which, like a color beyond the visible spectrum that you can't describe in words, but is there all the same. An event that has formed you, and in turn also been formed by you.

OK, enough of that airy nonsense. What I really meant to do was introduce a new feature in to the Weblog. One day I will give you the first and last line or lines from a book. You can play "Guess the Title"if you like. The next day I will give you the title, and perhaps say something apropos of the book and/or the quotations. Some lines may be well known, or at least from well known books. Others will almost certainly be obscure, and no one needs to feel dumb because they didn't know from whence they came. This is meant to be fun and entertaining. Please, no wagering.

Today's lines are from a classic science fiction work by a British author.

First line: "Observe now your own epoch as it appears to the Last Men."

Last line: "For we shall make after all a fair conclusion to this brief music that is man."