So I got in from work, and I fell asleep reading The Black Dossier. This was not The Black Dossier’s fault, The Black Dossier is excellent. It’s hard not to adore Moore’s weaving of so many different literary worlds into one sublime story, and the setting here (set shortly after the premature fall of Orwell’s Big Brother) nicely alters the previous dynamic. Stoker’s Mina Murray and Haggard’s Alain Quartermaine (last seen defeating Wells’ Martian invasion) are now immortal renegades pursued by James Bond of all people. Moore’s scathing parody of Fleming’s Bond - a rapist, liar thug and murderer with somewhat flexible patriotism - is brilliant, and a perfect foil for the more smug of the Moore and Connery films. This collision of the different worlds is sometimes bizarre but always satisfying - Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes being declared Unpersons in true 1984 style - hints that George Smiley worked for O’Brien - Virginia Woolfe’s Orlando mingling with 3000 years worth of fictional and mythological characters. And as for the end, well, that hurt my head slightly, but it was still magnificent.
Nevertheless, I fell asleep. I don’t think I napped long, so an early night should still have been possible. Dinner was had, then Moore was finished, and I went to bed about ninish. Hideously early but necessary. I could have slept then, easily, but what I did was start to read Alan Bennet’s An Uncommon Reader, after all, a few pages before bedtime never hurt anybody. I only went and read the whole thing. Admittedly it was definitely in the long short story / short novella leagues of length, but still. Read the full thing, giggling occasionally, slightly confused at Bennet’s scary ability to make me empathise with a member of the Royal family, thrilled at the potential power of a mobile library van. It’s a wonderful book, a story of a cut off woman who humanises herself through reading, and frankly worth the black rings now under my eyes as a result.
It's also a very strong argument for reading and for libraries, and talking about libraries brings me neatly to this marvellous Observer article on precisely that subject. It’s well worth a read to see just what threats the country’s libraries are under, and about the movements to stop them. The Brighton library incident she mentions is particularly horrific. It also says some very nice things about Newcastle’s soon to open new Central Library (to be called, my colleagues at the Council tell me, The Avison Building). Like the new super Hancock which is also (I believe) nearly done, I am very much looking forward to the opening. Hundreds of thousands spent upon new books? Hell yeah!
Yesterday, I also bought this.
Sexy isn’t it. Officially I tend to say what’s important about a book is its text, I’ve even written a short story on the subject (nothing I would put online I hasten to add, it wasn’t very good) but really I’m as drawn to a sexy edition as much as the next reading nerd. This is a reproduction of the original British edition; I’ve just learned from some of Christopher Tolkien’s notes that JRR Tolkien drew the beautiful cover illustration himself - and had a number of problems cause by his publisher’s mysterious aversion to red. I’m not sure if I want to read it or stroke it. And that reminds me...
I missed this because I was away and because, in Britain, The Colbert Report is on FX. (Who the hell watches FX?) Put it on proper telly you bunch of berks (I’ve recently found out what berk is rhyming slang for, and have resolved to use it more, in tribute to Ronnie Barker, who was forced to say ‘nerk’ instead) and not at gay O’clock like you have The Wire (serious BBC, pull your act together). But anyway, here’s Neil Gaiman being interviewed by everybody’s favourite Daily Show escapee.
| The Colbert Report | Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c | |||
| Neil Gaiman | ||||
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And he’s of course dead right. The Lord of the Rings is ace. Tom Bombadil is not. In fact Tom Bombadil seems to have been created by some perverse law of nature that a book as wonderful as The Ring Sets Out - featuring such satisfying creepiness as the black riders stalking the Hobbits through the abruptly sinister Shire, and the wraiths of the barrow downs - has to be dragged back by a yellow hatted freak with a dubious interest in ponies. And don’t pretend you disagree. I hate Tom Bombadil. You hate Tom Bombadil. I highly suspect JRR Tolkien hated Tom Bombadil, who can surely only be the result of a bad experience with hallucinogens.
I have a hunch the devoutly Catholic Tolkien said a large number of Hail Marys later in his life for everything between the hobbits being eaten by Old Man Willow and entering the Barrow Downs. The only shining lights is that adaptations are generally free to miss old Tom out, he has no real relevance to the central story, and off the top of my head the only adaptation I can remember that featured Bombadil was the SNES game. This would be very satisfactory, if only he wasn’t so linked in to the Barrow Downs, which have also tended to be absent. I suppose Tom Bombadil could work, but only if he was played by Lawrence Fishburne. Until then he shall continue to be the Tolkien lovers dirty little secret. Him and Fatty Lumpkin.
But back to the point, isn’t it pretty. Every time I even consider that there might be something in these Ebook things after all something like this reminds me why they’ll always be second rate to me. Even this geet expensive Sony thing. At first glance it looks rather good, but after thirty seconds of trying the demo model in Waterstones it was already annoying. They’ll have to get better than that (and make it cheaper too, to be perfectly honest), readers tend to be a bit more resistant to such things than music lovers, well, in Britain at least. Amusingly conservative about the whole thing in fact, and it’s not often I’ll admit to being that.
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