Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

No, this is not about the 1967 Sidney Poitier film, nor the 2005 remake. A week or so ago, I was struck by a very random, whimsical urge to poke around this old forum I was a part of in my youth. In fact, around the 2005 mark would have been one of the heights of my participation in this online community dedicated to the fandom of 24. If you’re looking for some strange duality between the title, its relation to a movie made in the year 2005, blah, blah. Looking at some of the things I wrote/said back then...well, I was a bit of a monumental prat in those days. I’m more a statuesque prat now, smaller than a monument but still pretty dull.

Anyway, I stumbled upon a thread started by a user known as Yil. He was quite the erudite, intelligent young chap. Quite on the ball as I remember it, astute observations...the kind of fellow you invite over for tea and cake, end up debating the merits of Nietzsche and Voltaire. Then retire for whiskey and cigars in the smoking room, with your high-backed, winged chairs and smoking jackets in front of a crackling fire.

In this particular thread, Yil asked who people would invite to their ideal dinner party. Six guests, living or dead. Back in 2004, when the question was posed, I had no answer. It was something that I didn’t even think about. Dinner party? What the frak was a dinner party?

Eleven years later, I have found myself contemplating which six guests would constitute my ideal dinner party:

1. Richard Feynman

Nobel Laureate in Physics, noted for his work on quantum electrodynamics, the Feynman Lectures and the Feynman Diagrams. A scientific genius, oft overshadowed in popular culture by Albert Einstein but every bit his equal, if not on some occasions his better. But more than anything, Feynman is a genuinely brilliant and fun human being. A series of YouTube videos posted by Reid Gower can attest to this. I’ve provided a link to one called “The Key to Science”. When Feynman explains what the key to science is...just brilliant. An amazing dinner guest.

2. Douglas Adams

One of the funniest writers in all existence. Let’s face it, all my guests after Feynman have been influenced by his placement on the guest list. Who work with Feynman? Well, having read The Salmon of Doubt and seeing just how deeply funny a man Douglas Adams was, I can only imagine the hilarity and good conversation that would ensue at the dinner table to have such a talented humorist as Adams and an irreverent scientist as Feynman...it would be beautiful.

3. Sir Terry Pratchett

The other funniest writer in all existence. Such a gifted and talented man whose worked has touched a generation and the effect of which will ripple onwards through time, a legacy to match the previous guest. The combination of wit and wisdoms from Feynman, Adams and Pratchett...I would have to keep a team of trauma surgeons on standby to repair the guts busted from laughter.

4. William Gibson

One of my all time favourite writers. As evidenced by a video I saw the other day, itself from 1994, quite the funny chap too. Although his writing is not outwardly intended to be funny, they are laced with fun little moments (my favourite in Zero History, where an American in London calls a Belgian with the name Bigend “Mr Bellend”. I maintain it was a nod to the British readers who know exactly when to use the term “Bellend”). Also, when conversational matters turned to more serious matters of science, Feynman and Gibson would be two very formidable visionary minds I think.

5. Sonya Belousova

Not all my guests would be writers and scientists. As much entertainment as they would bring through conversation, a good dinner party needs something else. Some music. And Sonya Belousova is an incredibly talented pianist. She does spectacularly awesome piano arrangements of theme tunes from TV, movies, video games. They’re amazing. I am also just a tiny bit love with her and would also use the dinner party as an opportunity to woo her. Undoubtedly. Check out her YouTube channel and tell me you wouldn’t too.

6. Bear McCreary

While my guests are gathered around the arbitrarily placed grand piano to hear some music and I want to impress Sonya rather than have her make me melt with her musical talents, I have a back-up plan. My other favourite composer and quite awesome pianist, Bear McCreary. For evidence of his piano talents, this video of my favourite song from Battlestar Galactica, “Something Dark is Coming”. Also I would have to pick his brains about Battlestar and all of the things. And make him play all of my favourite songs. Then have Sonya do the same, whilst settling down for whiskey and cigars with Feynman, Adams, Pratchett and Gibson.

There are, of course, many, many more awesome people I would love have at a dinner party. These guys are just the first round. Perhaps I should have monthly dinner parties, with different guests each time...hmmmm...well, anyway, those are my six ideal dinner party guests. What about you, dear readers? Who would your six be?

Sitting Under the Shade of the Tree: Perdido Street Station

A long, long while ago it seems I had this crazy notion of doing a "literature" segment for this blog. I'm a writer and an avid reader, so it makes a lot of sense, right? But since that fateful post about William Gibson's Zero History, it would appear that I haven't really lived up to the end of the bargain I made. It's quite shocking really, when you consider in the two months of not having a computer to call my own I managed to read six books. Compared to the reading rates of many of my friends, this is nothing. But given how much time I usually have/allow to sit around and read, this is quite the achievement.

Oh, but I did manage to hold up to one end of the bargain. It may not be quite summer, but the weather has turned sufficiently sunny to warrant an alteration to the segment's name from "Curled Up Next to the Fire" to "Sitting Under the Shade of the Tree". As seasonal changes go, I think that's a pretty good metaphor.

Anyway, I think it's time to stop babbling about nothing in particular and babble about the specific subject of this entry: Perdido Street Station by China Miéville.

I first came to China Miéville's work with his 2009 novel The City & The City. It was weird, it was wonderful, it is definitely one of those books I'll have to read a second time to see if I can fully grasp all the concepts. It set up a good precedent for future enjoyment of Miéville's work. I can't remember entirely upon what whim I purchased Perdido Street Station, but purchase it I did and after finishing The Hobbit about a month ago and with the promise of the boxset of the entire (so far) Song of Ice and Fire series arriving sometime soon (though now delayed until July), I decided it was time to tackle the 867 page monster of a book in my nice stack of books to read.

And at about half one in the morning, I finally finished it.

Now I'll admit, I found it a bit of a slow-burn. Around halfway through the book, the plot really kicks in and some pretty terrifying monsters are unleashed. But regardless of this, Perdido Street Station is something of an astounding beauty. And for me, it's not actually the characters who stand out - though there are some pretty damn awesome ones in there - but the setting of the novel, New Crobuzon.

Miéville has this incredible way of world-building, where it's almost like the city isn't just a backdrop, but an entire character unto itself. New Crobuzon is this decaying, polluted, steampunk nightmare, populated by people who drift through, carrying on with lives that continue to pollute and stain their city, seemingly uncaring about the consequences, like they've reached such a level of trash and degradation that they're no longer choking on the toxic atmosphere - physical and metaphorical - and instead surrendering themselves to the reality of breathing deep for the rest of their days.

Running through this incredible character are equally incredible races - your bog-standard humans, water-dwelling vodyanoi, insect-headed khepri, the list goes on and on and to say much more would be to risk spoilers. And I don't want to risk spoilers here. Perdido Street Station was a fantastic journey, a novel that subtly drew me in then - at that halfway point I mentioned - sucker-punched me in the gut and ran off, knowing I had no choice but to run after it, crash-tackle it to the ground and keep reading to find out what the frak was going to happen next. Thus I must not say much more, since you must go out, buy this book, read and be astounded by it as I am. And also, take heart in the fact that it's not the last you'll hear of New Crobuzon or its fantastical setting of Bas-Lag. Perdido Street Station was merely the first in a trilogy. When I'm through my big stack of reading (including the imminent arrival of Song of Ice and Fire), I will be obtaining The Scar, book two. Might even risk reading a blurb about it now, since I didn't want to know what it might be about in case it gave away the fate of any of the characters.

At this point, I fear I am saying too much and skirting ever-closer to the dangerous spoiler line. And since it's now quarter past two in the morning, it's probably time for me to adjourn for the night, impressed that I managed to maintain a coherent flow of writing at this hour of the day.

So, in parting, go out and buy Perdido Street Station. It's brilliant.

Curled Up Next to the Fire: Zero History

I've decided to do something a "literature" segment, which is going to be called "Curled Up Next to the Fire". Somewhat obviously. The reason for this - it's a nice image, being curled up next to the fire on a cold winter's night, reading a good book. Though I may have to change the segment's name come the summer.

So. The first segment. And the first book is Zero History by William Gibson. Now I'm a big fan of Gibson, having first read Neuromancer in 2007 in attempt to bolster my literary credentials before going to university. Well, my sci-fi literary credentials, which apparently aren't much credentials, but that's a gripe for another blog. Today, it is time to reflect on Zero History and how thoroughly I enjoyed it.

And I did. Enjoy it. Thoroughly. Once again, Gibson has proved himself able to weave a beautifully bizarre narrative within the bounds of our universe. For those uninitiated, Zero History is the third (and final) book in the Bigend Trilogy, Gibson's third trilogy of books. Unlike his previous trilogies, the Sprawl and the Bridge, the Bigend Trilogy takes place our timeline - the first book, Pattern Recognition, features a subplot about the main character's father and his disappearance in New York on 9/11. Zero History, published in 2010, makes some mentions of the growing economic discord in the Western world. But that's not the main thrust. Nope, the hunt for the designer of a mysterious, "secret brand" clothing is.

This, for me, makes it beautiful. I know nothing of the world of fashion, nothing about "secret brands", but this search for a secret brand, the weird and wonderful collection of characters (most notably the trilogy's namesake, Hubertus Bigend), was an extremely compelling read. And it only took me until my ninth Gibson novel to figure out one of the twists - and given that, as a writer, I sometimes find it too easy to predict these things because I think "Hey, that's what I'd do" - so that's an achievement. And even then, having essentially figured it out, I still thoroughly enjoyed the reveal, though I imagine it was mostly for the gratification of being proven right.

But anyway. Zero History. Wonderful book, once again proving Gibson's undeniable skills at turning worlds we know into something just a little different, a little weirder. In the book, there are several mentions of pieces of tech that quite probably exist. But the way Gibson describes them, the way he uses them, they all just seem a little bit out of this world.

Then, his characters. Zero History, like its predecessor Spook Country, features Hollis Henry as its main character, joined by Milgrim, one of Gibson's more mysterious creations - two books he's been in and I still haven't 100% figured him out. But I kind of like it that way. Rather than tell us every detail of Milgrim from his beginning to where he is, we are given the sense of the man in the moment. A compelling character who seems to live entirely in the present, where his counterpart, Hollis Henry, occupies a different angle - she's the investigator, with the developed past that she occasionally reflects upon.

Now I'm not sure what more to say without giving too much away, so I'll try and wrap things up here. Zero History was a fantastic book - compelling characters, bizarre and engrossing storyline, all wrapped up in our world that just doesn't feel like it entirely is our world, but inescapably is. And if that last thought made any sense, I'd imagine someone's missing the point entirely. Probably me.

Anyhow, that's it for the first instalment of Curled Up Next to the Fire. I've now started on The Gods Themselves by Isaac Asimov, so I imagine that'll be the next segment, but not necessarily my next random rambling. So watch this space ;)