December 2007 Archives

Looks like the court case I mentioned has been postponed again. Essentially a ruling on religious freedom in Egypt, this issue has again been swept under the rug and ignored. Here is a re-posting of an article from an Egyptian newspaper on the subject (also posted here). This is getting ridiculous.

Over the festive season I have been reading books, as I tend to do. But unusually for me, they're not been non-fiction (or "books of truth" as I term them), but rather fiction (AKA "books of lies")! I have finished not one, not two, but three books of fiction in the past few days. They are, in order, Yann Martel's Life of Pi, Jenny Downham's before I die, and Alan Bennett's The Uncommon Reader.

I've been an avid reader all my life - but in the past few years I've taken some time off and fallen out of the habit of reading fiction. Part of it is because my free time is limited, I try only to read books related to my course. Ultimately, however, academic books tend to be dry, and I can't resist the siren call of a well-written novel or short story. My desire to read has only been fuelled this year, with one of my flatmates being an English Lit student, as I realise my understanding of modernism is inadequate, that I've never read Conrad or Byron, and so on.

But that's not why I read these books. I read simply for pleasure, thankfully. Maybe I'll get around to understanding modernism or reading Conrad later. Maybe I won't. Either way, I've read some good books.

Life of Pi I intend to address in a later, fuller blog post. The second book, before I die, I bought for my mother as a birthday present after reading good reviews. It's the story of Tessa, a 16 year-old girl with terminal leukemia, and the last few months of her life. Like I said, I've read many rave reviews about this book, but I can't help coming away a little disappointed. It didn't connect me or engage me the way I felt it should have.

That said, it is a very well-written book. It's narrated by Tessa, in the present tense, which gives the book an immediacy, an urgency, and no sense of hindsight that the past tense would offer. It fixes the book firmly in the here-and-now, which make Tessa's thoughts, observations, and dreams seem all the more real. The characterisation is excellent, and Downham really manages to get across the distinctive nature of each of the characters. The writing manages a great lyrical beauty at times, weaving words and images around each other. Here's an example I enjoyed (p266), and also some of the little observations that make reading this book a joy rather than a chore:

I like it - the stall and shove of traffic, the deep thrum of a bus engine, an urgent siren in the distance. I like creeping so slowly down the High Street that I have time to notice Easter eggs still unbought in the newsagent's window, the cigarette butts swept into a neat pile outsde the Chicken Joint. I see children carrying the strangest things - a polar bear, an octopus.

Writing about sex is often tricky, and while this certainly wouldn't qualify for one of the Literary Review's Bad Sex in Fiction Awards, some of the (many) sex scenes in the book feel a little awkward. While on the whole, the character of a 16 year-old was well-written, on occassion, Downham seemed to miss the mark considerably. A consistent example of this is her description of text messaging throughout the book, which seems ill-informed and as if Downham herself has never texted anyone. Maybe I'm being too picky, but that stuck out to me a lot.

The book raises some interesting questions about life and death, however I feel there are many more that it could, and perhaps should, have examined or expanded upon. We all have a limited time here on earth, so what makes Tessa's case different? Is it because we know she only has months, weeks, days to live? Aside from the length of time until death, what makes her different from us? Does ignorance of the length of time between now and our death make us somehow immune to it? What's the point in work, love, and friends when we're all going to die eventually?

In many ways the book felt trite and oversentimental at times. Due to her teenage, often childish perspective on the world, it was hard at times to take Tessa seriously, so at the points when she's being her most sincere, it's difficult to really connect with what she's saying. Which is a pity, as there are some real gems in this book.

The Uncommon Reader is a cheeky little book about Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, and her blossoming, later expanding, love for literature and books of all sorts.

A chance encounter leads Her Majesty to discover a mobile library in Westminister, where, to be polite, she borrows a book. She reads it, returns it, and again, to be polite, she borrows another. Two turn into three, three into four, and soon enough she's borrowing and reading not out of etiquette or duty, but for pleasure. A young boy in the employ of the palace becomes her amanuensis, advising her in the way of what to read next, leading her to strange new lands, previously untouched.

The establishment are not pleased at their monarch's new hobby, especially when it is to the detriment of her state duties. Thus Bennett takes us on a journey of literary discovery, all the while battling off the assaults of those who seek to deprive the Queen of her new-found love.

The book is itself a defence of literature - in fact, no, not a defence, this is not literary apologetics. Rather, the book is an activist, crying defiantly in support of reading, of books, and of art. It is a rallying call against arrogance and ignorance, heralding people - all people - to the sheltering warmth of civilised art.

Despite my bold claims, the book is not loud, nor is it angry. The prose is, like Her Majesty, reserved, comforting, and refined. Perhaps even deceptive in both its message and its comedy. The book is physically attractive too - asethetically pleasing, with a soothing typeface and an appealing dust cover. I was thinking while reading it, "if I ever publish something, I'd love for it to be done like this".

The book raises important points too, concerning Monarchy (or really any figure constantly in the public eye): what is "natural", when most of your life is a performance? And on literature (or art in general), does it mirror life, or vice versa? Why is art more beautiful than "real life"? On duty and entitlement, to what extent does it affect our view of the world and of our place in it?

I'm glad I read these three books. They've given me a sense of perspective I wouldn't have otherwise. I hope this brief excursion into my literary journey has encouraged you to read, or at least consider some of the issues raised. It certainly has me.

Bennett, Adam. The Uncommon Reader. London: Faber and Faber, 2007.
Downham, Jenny. before I die. London: Transworld, 2007.
Martel, Yann. Life of Pi. Edinburgh: Canongate, 2002.

Time for some links, I think.

• Egyptian court to rule on religious freedom cases next week, or at least they're supposed to. As the article summarises, "The government requires all identification papers to list religious affiliation but then restricts the choice to the three officially recognized religions -- Islam, Christianity, and Judaism. Baha'is are thus unable to obtain identification papers because they refuse to lie about their religious affiliation." Let's hope it doesn't get postponed like last time.
• The Machine Girl. Possibly the best film trailer ever. Is actually a real film.
• Rap represented in mathematical charts and graphs. I find some of the Venn diagrams particularly awesome.

Last night I was at an exclusive album launch party for Simon T. Munro's new EP And Our Afflictions Shall Be Eased. (Simon currently has a website under construction.)

Simon performed the songs from his EP in a very intimate venue, and it was all recorded live for future use. Really great. I say "exclusive" and "intimate" - it was 20 people, in Simon's own home. Both stylish, and punk rock in ethos.

Simon's music is softer and more touching than your usual acoustic singer-songwriter fare, somewhat hypnotic at times. The music is technical and exciting, but where he really stands out, in my view, is in his lyrics. Here are some that particularly touched me. From Sailor, Sailor:

Sailor, sailor, sailin' o'er the ancient seas
We are content to be forsaken for what has been foreseen
As the storm embraces us in our cause
For we cannot sail into defeat on a crimson sea

And from The Dance of the Summer Breeze:

I turned around and she was nowhere to be seen
I had never known such sorrow alone on the beach
Memories came and went with the waves on the shore
As if her touch moved back and forth out of reach

The link I gave in the first paragraph is to Simon's MySpace page, check it out to listen to some of his songs.

One of the best parts of the evening was after the performance, while everyone was socialising, there was a guitar and piano just sitting there. There were a good number of musicians in the audience, so they didn't stay idle for long - soon someone even brought out a bodhrán, and there was a good jam session. I really love impromptu, off-the-cuff creativity like that, and there was so much talent and energy in the room that I was really buzzing. I'm really looking forward to getting my hands on the EP, and also his full album, which should be finished by this time next year.

My feed reader has been playing up a little of late. Not really sure why, but it's annoying as I'm missing the latest instalments of my favourite bloggers. In other news, I'm not feeling too great or blogworthy at the moment, so this entry is just going to be a few links. So, without further ado, let's begin.

Wendi Momen recently returned from a trip to the Baha'i World Centre. The Led Zeppelin reference makes me smile.

Over at Language Log, Mark Liberman explains that authoritarian rationalism is not conservatism, especially in relation to linguistic prescriptivism. Wow, that sounds really boring. It's not, honest! Language Log frequently deals with the issue of prescriptivism, and what makes a certain grammar choice "right" or "wrong", and this article is both a good overview and a good discussion of some of the issues. Is "correctness" determined by populist rule, or, in Liberman's words, "the authority of a "rule" invented by a self-appointed expert, who has concluded that the world would be a better place if it were to be run according his prescriptions"? I hope you can determine from his tone on which side he (and the vast majority of today's linguists) stands.

Also at Language Log, Geoff Pullum ponders why the blog is banned in Iran. Being illegal in certain countries of the world does give the blog a certain punk-rock appeal that most contemporary linguistics lacks. The fact that Geoff Pullum spent a good number of years as a rock musician just makes it all the sweeter.

I recently discovered Vye Computers, and their new mini-v s37. I wants. (Maybe for extra geek points I should have said "do want", in a reference to badly-subtitled Chinese bootlegs of Return of the Sith?)

On the subject of small cool gadgets, the Nokia N800 looks pretty cool, especially because it runs Linux and is very customisable.

I'm not the only one who's been collecting links. Recently at Social Science++ there's a great post with a compilation of all you need to know on the race and IQ debate. (Philipe Copeland, over at Bahá'í Thought and Black America, has already given his thoughts on this.)

I also feel an urge to plug Desktop Tower Defence, a fun little tower defence flash game.

Hip Hop is not dead! Here's an awesome video, brought to my attention by Tim. Not only is the music awesome, but the video is really well-shot and fits very well with the track. Joe Metro by Blue Scholars.

Here's the other video Tim recommends, Back Home, again by Blue Scholars. I'll leave you to decide for yourself which is better. Overall, I prefer the first one, but the rhymes in the second one are more flowing, and the video more touching. Tim will likely disagree with me, but I guess that's another discussion for another day. It's 4am, discussing hip hop isn't exactly my forté at this hour.

Also, apologies for not blogging for a while, I've been very busy with exams and assignments and other distractions. But soon I'll be back in the swing of things.

Hip Hop is dead. All the way from Singapore, here are the killers. Honestly, who wrote their rhymes? Because, well, they don't rhyme...

(I realise I'm overreacting. People have been sounding the death knell for hip hop for ages, from 50 Cent's Get Rich or Die Tryin' to Nelly's Air Force Ones, from Nas's Hip Hop is Dead to Jibbs's Chain Hang Low. Still, whatever happened to Public Enemy, KRS-One, A Tribe Called Quest, and other awesome groups?)