Fraser, best known for his books featuring Victorian soldier, lady’s man,
coward, and toady Harry Flashman, spent the Second World War as a British
foot soldier in Burma, an experience he describes delightfully in his
book Quartered Safe Out Here. At the end of the war he
applied for officer training, and much to his surprise spent the years
after the war as a lieutenant in a highland regiment, first in North
Africa and later on in Great Britain.

Fraser later turned his post war experiences into three volumes of short
stories, all told in the first person by one Lieutenant Dand MacNeill, of
which this is the first. And they are an unbridled joy, delight, and
wonderment–the sort of book I put off re-reading so that I’ll savor it
all the more later on. Also, the sort of book you end up reading half of
aloud to whoever might be in earshot.

The present volume begins with MacNeill’s examination for officer
training, and continues with his introduction to life as an officer in a
highland regiment. In it, there is much to be said about bagpipes,
soccer (only, of course, they don’t call it soccer), scotch
whisky–

A digression. The senior officers in some regiments are (or were) a
hard-drinking lot, and many lieutenants in such regiments felt they had
to do the same to be accepted. In MacNiell’s regiment, as in most
highland regiments (so says Fraser), the subalterns drank either beer or
orange juice–in highland regiments, the senior officers had no desire to
see their fine single-malt scotch swilled by lieutenants with no
appreciation for what they were drinking.

–scotch whisky, highland dancing, and personal cleanliness, or, rather,
the lack of it displayed by Private MacAuslan, the dirtiest soldier in
the world.

I should note that the Dand MacNeill stories completely lack the worldly,
cynical edge of Fraser’s Flashman books; if you’ve tried those and
disliked them, don’t let that put you off from enjoying these. If you
can find them; I wanted to get a copy of this book as a Christmas present
this year, until I found that it’s a available used at Amazon starting at
$58. Time to check the used bookstores!

I’ve got to hand it to Jaquandor; this is one of those ideas that’s obvious in retrospect, the kind that makes you jealous because once it’s been done, well, it’s been done. I won’t spoil it, but if you’re a Lord of the Rings fan you should check it out.

These are the sixth and seventh books in the authors’ Mageworlds
series, which I’ve been re-reading and reviewing over the last few months.

When The Stars Asunder was published in 1999, Jane and I were
excited; I’d read the previous books aloud to her to our mutual enjoyment,
and this one looked to be a doozy. Set in the far distant past, long
before the first Mage War, it promised to tell us of the first contact
between the Mage Worlds and the rest of the civilized galaxy, and also to
tell the story of Beka Rosselin-Metadi’s enigmatic helper, the
“Professor”. We snapped it up the moment it came out, in hardcover no
less, and I started reading it to Jane on the way home.

And, alas, we were greatly disappointed. I never finished reading it
aloud; instead, we each finished it separately. And unlike the others in
the series, it sat on the shelf, unread, until just recently when I
picked it up prior to reading its successor, A Working of Stars.
(It’s some measure of my disappointment that the latter book was published
in 2002, and I only just got around to it.)

Anyway, I approached The Stars Asunder with considerable
curiousity. Was it as bad as I remembered? Had I read it fairly the
first time? And I suppose the most honest answer is that it’s better, and
just as bad.

First, it’s a different sort of book than the others in the series; it’s
slower paced, and there are fewer action sequences. Jane and I had the
wrong expectations going into it, and so it’s not entirely surprising
that it didn’t work for us. And, I was surprised to note that some of the
amazingly stupid and awful scenes that I remember being so annoyed by
aren’t actually in the book at all. Apparently I dreamed them.

On the other hand, there are bad bits as well. There’s a whole espionage
and intrigue subplot that simply doesn’t work: it’s confusing, it slows
down the main story, and although motivations of the characters involved
seemed clear enough at the beginning I found them entirely mystifying by
the end. The ending is abrupt and unsatisfying, and leaves lots of
loose-ends floating about–and there’s no indication that a sequel might
be forthcoming. And then there’s the centerpiece of the book, the first
contact between a Mage ship and a freighter from the Civilized Worlds,
which I still can’t bring myself to believe in. Though, to be fair the scene’s
not quite as absurd as I thought it the first time I read it.

A Working of Stars is much more satisfying. It follows
perhaps ten years after the finish of The Stars Asunder, and
ties up a fair number of that book’s loose ends (though by no means
all of them), and it’s got a lot more of that Space Opera Goodness we
were looking for. My major complaint about it is that it seems to
contradict things were were told in the second book of the series,
Starpilot’s Grave, though possibly there are reasons for that.

There’s clearly room for yet another book in this part of the series, and
I rather wish Doyle and MacDonald would get on with it.

Big Arm Woman’s husband takes a second look at The Polar Express (the book, not the movie) and finds much worthy of comment. Though perhaps bedtime wasn’t the appropriate occasion….

I know I’ve been linking to Ian a lot recently, but he’s done it again.

He’s right about The High Crusade, too. But that’s another post.

So around 11:15 this morning I gathered up my recorder bag and music stand, snagged a Santa Claus hat from the decorations in our hallway, and wandered off to the conference room in which our section secretaries and admins were busily getting everything ready for the section party. I set up in a corner and played for about half-an-hour, working through my sheaf of Christmas carols) about twice in that time, as the room slowly filled up.

I didn’t do too badly, I guess; I’d been practicing all of the songs at least twice a day since last Thursday, and though I made more mistakes than I’m happy with, my tone and phrasing were pretty good. I’d have had an easier time if I’d played soprano recorder, but I chose to play tenor instead; it’s a nicer solo instrument, with a deep rich tone. It’s also quieter than a soprano, which means that it was hard to hear me play once the room filled up, but on the other hand the mistakes were quieter too.

I made sure I practiced by leaving my music stand in our kitchen, along with my tenor, that it was often convenient (while waiting for dinner, and so forth) to pick up the recorder and play a couple of songs. I really need to make a habit of doing that in general; it’s pleasant.

Anyway, I didn’t disgrace myself in public, and that’s always nice.

In 1906, the city of San Francisco was devastated by an earthquake, followed by a fire that burned for four days. A photographer named George R. Lawrence had developed a means of taking aerial photographs using kites, producing 130-degree panoramas; the prints were 47 inches wide, made from negatives of the same size. (!) On hearing of the disaster in California, he took his crew to San Francisco.

If you’ve read about the San Francisco earthquake and fire, and think you understand the scope of the disaster, I suspect you’re mistaken. Be sure to read the whole thing, or you’ll miss the shot of the port of San Francisco at the very bottom.

(Via Slashdot.)

Yet another posting meme has hit the blogosphere, and Jaquandor’s not only on top of it, he’s extended it. The originator of the meme posted a list of ten authors who grace his shelves. What you’re supposed to do is post your own copy of the list, replacing any authors whose books you don’t have with authors whose books you do have. I suppose the idea is to see how far it drifts. Anyway, here’s Jaq’s list with my replacements in bold:

William Shakespeare

Stephen King

Lois McMaster Bujold

Terry Pratchett

Guy Gavriel Kay

J.R.R. Tolkien

George R. R. Martin

Steven Brust

Sarah Caudwell

Patrick O’Brian

George MacDonald Fraser



Astute readers will note that this list has eleven authors–but then, so did Jaq’s.

Jaq then suggests that one could do the same thing with CDs, and posts a list of ten artists. I’ll bite on that as well.

Steeleye Span

Jethro Tull

Pink Floyd

J.S. Bach

John Williams

The Chieftains

Silly Wizard

Van Morrison

Ray Stevens

Benny Goodman

I’ll note that Jaq’s list included Johnny Cash and Ralph Vaughan Williams, both of whom really ought to be in my CD collection, but aren’t.

Take it away, Eric the Orchestra Leader!

Ian very properly draws your attention to this trailer, but I’m rather less sanguine than he is about the eventual outcome. After all, Depp’s character is supposed to be an oldish sort of bloke; that’s why he’s arranged this elaborate scheme to begin with. Depp certainly gets the puckish spirit right, but not the age.

And then, well… I knew Gene Wilder, and you, Mr. Depp, are no Gene Wilder.

Not, alas, that the film which features Mr. Wilder is an unflawed gem; far from it. I’m hopeful, given some portions of the new trailer, that Mr. Depp’s endeavour will hew a little more closely to the original book, which has my boys enrapt at the moment.

To Amazon.com, and all of the late unlamented Dot Coms that didn’t make it.

(To the tune of Jingle Bells)

Dashing to and fro

Like chickens with no head

Through the store they go

Faces full of dread.

Check-out lines are short.

Inventory’s tall.

Everyone just shops on-line,

No one comes round here at all!

Oh, Business stinks, business stinks,

No one’s leaving home!

Everything they want’s on-line,

They have no need to ro-oam!

Business stinks, business stinks,

No one’s at the store!

If they need another gift,

They point-and-click some more!