Good Reads meta-data is 183 pages, rated 3.58 by 189 litizens.
Genre: Krimi.
DNA: Swiss.
Verdict: Bah.
Tagline: Bah!
Liked descriptions of winter weather, city, train station, and the Rhine River…. Also liked the personalities of the supermarket check-out woman and her de facto: She practical and down to earth; He a dreamer who thinks he is smarter than he is. In fact he is almost too dumb to believe.
Didn’t like Inspector Grump’s constant whining and whingeing, and feeling sorry for himself. Nor the aggressive verbal relations he applied to his squad members and they reciprocated. Repetitive blaming all ills and woes on unnamed ‘higher ups.’ I suppose the author thinks that is social criticism, but it is not. It is just lazy carping. He should read some Michel Foucault.
Very little detecting or police work, and ever more padding about snow, interspersed with Inspector Grumble’s simple-minded monologues on the idiocracy of everyone else in the Ruling Class/Deep State.
Hansjörg Schneider
The Basel train station has an unusual history in World War II, and that fact always makes me receptive to novels set that city. The station was split, half administered by Nazis and half by Swiss. I read a thriller that started there, see: https://theory-practice.sydney.edu.au/2021/09/target-switzerland-a-novel-of-political-intrigue-2020-by-william-walker/. I read that earlier book because I had found an intriguing reference to this railway station schizophrenia. Nothing about that in this pot simmerer which did not reach a boil.
Good Reads meta-data is 90 pages, rated 3.5 by 4 litizens.
Genre: Fiction
DNA: Greco-Roman.
Verdict: Fake news.
Tagline: It’s all lies, and that is the truth!
‘Call me Luke’ (AD 125-180) was a geographic Syrian and Roman citizen who went west to fame and fortune, first as a visiting professor hither and yon, and then as a celebrity author. He was often ‘in conversation’ with local nobs, engaged in panel discussions, and spruiked his many books at personal appearances. Like most learned Romans of the time he spoke and wrote Greek, the language of international culture, as well as enough Latin to cash his appearance cheques.
Lucian’s story is true in that it is all lies, and he tells us from the get-go. Is he that logician’s specimen come to life, a lying Blackfoot? You be the judge!
In this autobiographical foray Luke takes off, literally, in search of a good time and willing ladies, with fifty other likely lads; together they sail through the pillars of Hercules to wild and woolly adventures on earth, on the sea, on the moon, among the stars, in the belly of 300 kilometre long whale, on an island of tree women, and more.
The sarcasm and satire are piled on. The main targets are earlier tellers of tall tales like Herodotus who reported every rumour as fact in the best tradition of the free press. Lucian outdoes them all in his fantasies. But he is lying as he happily reminds the reader.
He ends by promising a volume two, but that, too, was a lie.
It figures.
Luke
Of course then as now there were Good Readers who thought the lie was itself a lie and believed what he said to be true concealed behind that lie. Straussians avant le mot.
I got around to reading it because Thomas More with Desi Erasmus translated it from Greek to Latin, and published it in Florence (1519) in Machiavelli’s lifetime. I began to pick again at the thread that Machiavelli might then have been aware of More because he was a personal friend of the printer. Also because Lucian might have turned More’s mind to Utopia.
Keith Houston, The Book: A Cover to Cover Exploration of the Most Powerful Object of Our Time (2016).
Good Reads meta-data is 442 pages rated 4.09 by 1161 litizens.
Genre: History.
DNA: USA.
Verdict: A synthesis.
Tagline: ‘It takes a strong will to resist the lure of ebooks.’
So many books are about books it is no surprise that there are books about the physical object we call a book: A biography of the book.
What I learned about the evolution of the book was that it is a tale of laborious trial and error by many hands over several millennia to get to the book as we kne/ow it: Paper, ink, fonts, binding. Gutenberg was one of a cavalcade of obsessives who went broke trying to improve book printing.
Other tidbits include the following:
Book-locks which I have seen were not parental controls which I had thought but to tighten closed books so that the parchment would not curl.
The consequences of shelving books on end rather than lying flat were many. See also, Henry Petroski, The Book on the Bookshelf (2000) on this point.
In many cases fonts were named for the first to develop them. From Italy Italic was a reaction to the heavy Gothic type Gutenberg used.
Foolscap paper derived from a watermark left on certain size sheets of paper in England 17th Century after the fall of monarchy. The crown was replaced by a ‘Fool’s cap’ watermark as sign of loyalty to the new order.
Paper sizes A1 to A10 originated in Germany. A1= 1/2 a square meter, each subsequent size is a half of its predecessor. Sizes of paper originated with the reach of workers who made paper.
Georg Christoph Lichtenberg (1786): The initial idea for a proportional paper system came from this German scientist. He proposed a width-to-height ratio of 1:√2, recognizing its mathematical efficiency for scaling. A sheet of paper with this ratio can be folded in half to produce two smaller sheets that have the exact same proportions as the original.
Dr. Walter Porstmann (1922): German engineer formalized Lichtenberg’s concept into the DIN 476 standard. This standard set the largest size, A0, to have an area of exactly one square meter, with all other “A” sizes defined by successively halving the larger sheet. Such a progression is called geometric harmony.
Codified by International Standard Organisation in 1975.
I also found a clanger when author says Herbert Hoover was Secretary of State in Woodrow Wilson’s cabinet (p 418). Not only was Hoover not Secretary of State, he was not in cabinet at all, though he certainly worked closely with Wilson’s administration.
More interesting was James John Audubon:
born in Haiti to slave owning family of planers. The family returned to France when the slave revolt stirred. In 1814 family sent teenage James John to Pennsylvania to avoid conscription in Napoleon’s endless wars.
He was a boy naturalist, first in Haiti, then France, then USA.
Tried to make a living out of his naturalist interest. Bird book with travels. No one in USA wanted to publish it. Took it to London. No. Then Edinburgh where he succeeded.
One copy of all ‘textual books’ must be given to British Library. He only had 200 and was deeply in debt. Didn’t want to surrender even one copy for nothing. So extracted text describing locale and birds from the pictures and printed it separately and compared to the illustrated book this textual book sold cheaply and gave that to the BL, but not the picture book.
In medieval Europe mirrors were used by the faithful to reflect divine rays from relics onto pilgrim. A good business for touts outside churches selling mirrors. A proto selfie?
So many technical details, so many proper names I got lost in the morass.
Remember the Norwegian ‘Medieval helpdesk’ on You Tube? It is still there.
Author opens with that tagline above and then says little or nothing about ebooks. Whoops, no that silent withdrawal of Nineteen Eighty-Four (p 9), though he used the numeric title and not the words. Orwell stipulated words not numbers for the title, but no one listens to authors. Certainly not publishers.
Keith Houston
Me, I compared the resistance to printed books (leads to atrophy of memory, allows rubbish to be published and read, makes us solitary rather than conversational and convivial, and class aesthetics because printers were begrimed working class, whereas scribes were learned, devout monks) to current resistance to ebooks (too fiddly, put bookstores out of business, allows a tidal wave of crap, and does not have the aesthetic qualities of a nice book). Certainly right about the crap. I can leave the aesthetics to others. Video dented but did not destroy cinemas and I hope digital books will not destroy bookstores. What has already destroyed far more bookstores were the predatory mega franchise chains like Barnes and Noble, Borders, Smith, Waterstone, and their ilk which set out to do so with pricing and location.
Good Reads meta-data is 331 pages, rated 3.79 by 1726 litizens.
Genre: Krimi.
DNA: Kiwi.
Verdict: Trying (too hard).
Tagline: Abandon credulity all ye who read here.
Havelock North NZ pop. 14,500 in the wine country of Hawke’s Bay is the scene of much mayhem and even, perhaps, murder. Happily ensconced bookstore proprietors, who just happen to be retired Plods from Old Blighty, get drawn into this netherworld along with their dog, which has some of the best lines: ‘Arf!’ Their store is called Sherlock Tomes, and that bon mot is why I choose to read this book. But never judge a book by one clever twist. I tried and failed a time ago to read one featuring the Cat of the Baskervilles.
I found this one hard going wading through pages and pages of superfluous detail. True some of it redounded later, but it was impossible to detect which was relevant. TMI. About clothes, decor, food (including dog food), many other sidetracks. Even where life and limb is threatened, the proprietors cannot focus. Neither could this reader.
There is a lot to like about the plot but it was whitened out by the blizzard of ephemera. It was hard to believe that the original police investigation was as superficial as it seemed in retrospect. The disappearance of a school girl, followed by the departure of her best friend, the disappearance of a drug dealer, and the disappearance of $NZ100,000 all with a few days of each other, and only the first school girl was investigated. It was pretty clear that stereotyped FW was a blue herring from the get-go. He was too bad to be true. Likewise the multiple authorship which was hinted at in the text was on the cards.
I read it while sitting on a veranda looking out to the Pacific Ocean in Fiji. Lucky me. I left the paperback copy in the guest library of the Royal Davui Resort, August 2025. Perhaps the next reader will be more receptive and perceptive than me. This is the first of a series and ends with a cliff hanger to the next volume. Not for me.
Good Reads meta-data is 368 pages rated 4.28 by 72 litizens.
Genre: Biography.
DNA: Academic.
Verdict: The anti-platonic Plato.
Tagline: He kept all of receipts.
Focus is in the title, that is, Plato’s on-again, off-again relationship with the tyrant father and son, Dionysius the Elder and the Younger of Syracuse on Sicily. Before going on please note, that in Greek the word ‘tyrant’ meant a ruler who was not hereditary. Because Herodotus’ account of the Persian Wars looked east (as did Alexander the Great later in retaliation), and much of Thucydides’ account of the Peloponnesian War concentrated on the Greek peninsula and the east, with the exception of the catastrophe at this very same Syracuse in earlier times when it was a democracy. In contrast, the extensive Greek settlements in the western Mediterranean are not as well documented and known. But Greek colonies populated southern Italy, Sicily, Marseilles in France, as far as Cadiz in Spain.
The greatest single power among the Western Greeks was Syracuse. It had wealth from silver and gold, and large population compared to many other cities. Its double harbour gave it an advantage in sea trade. And it had, by the time the Dionysius two ruled, a formidable military reputation after having defeated that Athenian invasion in the Peloponnesian War.
Plato went to Syracuse – a long and expensive voyage with some risks from weather and pirates – three times over two decades. He did so, when the smoke and mirrors of scholarship have been exhausted, to encourage the ruler(s) of Syracuse to exercise moderation. He hoped to convert a ruler to think of the whole in the long term against the highest and most abstract standard. The Dionysii were infamous for their cruelty, debauchery, hedonism, and worse, but Plato decided he could but try, despite the apparent odds. The Elder was cruel and rapacious but liked to have trophy wives, slaves, and intellectuals in his entourage. The Younger was vain, selfish, and debauched by food, drink, and sex. Not promising ground then, but Plato had a student of old at court, one Dion who was wealthy and an in-law of the Dionysii to pave the way for him. So Plato tried and tried again, and again. To no avail.
These efforts have long fascinated Platonists and much has been written about them over the centuries. The author’s mastery of this multi-lingual literature is impressive. Very. Intriguing also to learn Twenty-First century efforts to apply MRI technology to reading carbonised scrolls destroyed/preserved by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.
Instead of admiring Plato for dirtying his hands, even risking his life, and trying to redeem the tyrants (and thereby lighten their yoke on the people of Syracuse), he is indicted for interfering by hindsight moralists. But he did little more than advise moderation. Does make him liable for what followed. It seems so since he is routinely arraigned as an accessory.
I first read of this story in Mary Renaut’s novelThe Mask of Apollo (1954) when I was an graduate student. It was recommended to me by someone whose identity has by now escaped me. Perhaps I will re-read that. We will see.
Awhile ago I read and commented on a book the front cover of which declared it to be a biography of Plato. It was a very well done account of the history of his time and place, but not a biography of the man. Ergo, I was still in the market for a biography and when Howard Whitton sent me a review of this book, I had a look, and it promised some more biography. This is another excellent study that tries to bring out the biographical echoes in Plato’s essays, particularly Republic.
A few months ago I read and commented on a Straussian study of Plato’s thirteen letters (Ariel Helfer, Plato’s Letters [2023]) that…. That entry is elsewhere on this blog for clickers. Well, Straussians make a lot out of little or nothing. If aboriginal stargazers concentrated on the black areas of the sky rather than the stars, Straussians concentrate on what it absent; silence; what is not said. Of course, there is a lot of nothing, right Jean-Paul? And you can make it mean whatever you want want.
Long ago I read Ludwig Marcuse, Plato and Dionysius: a Double Biography (1947) and learned nothing about either of them from it.
IMDb summary: ‘After thousands of years since the extinction of the human race on Earth, an astronaut named Gladia lands on the now uninhabited Third Rock. Gladia comes from a distant planet where the last terrestrial settlers found refuge, before forgetting their planet of origin forever. She finds one inhabitant, a robot that has inherited all of human knowledge has evolved and developed a consciousness. The two will fight each other first but then they will realise that they are more similar than they thought.’
Gladia makes a crash-landing that destroys her vehicle so she calls for road service only to be told that there is none from the low-bid contractor. Ergo, no rescue but over the hologram communication Gladia is thanked for the service. A typical corporate dismissal. She is now abandoned by the company. Full marks for realism.
We begin to realise Gladia is being watched, and Gladia then becomes aware of it.
I have nothing more to add. If there is more, I missed it. Nor did I notice much stargazing, literal minded as I am. The titular ‘Blue Dot’ brings to mind Carl Sagan and that must have had a purpose. But what it is I cannot say.
Will Earth be repopulated by Gladia and the Robot? That should be interesting! But we’ll never know.
PS I wondered if that ‘all knowledge’ included the locale of all the missing socks from laundry.
Good Reads meta-data is 321 pages, rated 2.82 by 800 litizens.
Genre: Krimi; Species: Historical period.
DNA: Italian; Florentine.
Verdict: Nicely done.
Tagline: Hell is right here, right now.
June in the year of 1300, Durante Alighieri, who prefers to be known as Dante, is one of the six Priors who serve a two-month term of office, rather like a city council with executive powers. He is pleased with this preferment until the chief of the guard, whom he regards as a dolt (and who regards him as a puffed up popinjay) asks him to attend a crime scene in a long-abandoned church. As he picks his way through the rubble in the city streets left by the latest battle between the Guelphs and Ghibellines, Dante ponders on the cesspool that Florence is sliding into.
At the church he finds a talented mosaic artist who has been murdered and mutilated. He is tempted to let the Guard deal with the crime the way he usually does: arrest the nearest beggar and torture him into confessing: Case closed. Policing has never changed it seems. But there are intellectual puzzles in this case and Dante pursues them.
Then there is a strange conclave in a sleazy tavern of men who claim to be founding a studium in Florence, that is, a university. Dante seeks their company and this accomplished poet is most welcome, but…. Is all as it seems? Or is it not. Place your bets!
It is a time when failed crusades to the holy land have undermined many verities. Moreover, anyone who has been to the East is tainted. There is a prologue that provides that orientation.
Then there are rumours that an heir to the Holy Roman emperor yet lives and that makes the ever so corrupt Pope worry. Such an heir might threaten the Pope’s hold on the throne. His reputation for incompetence was only bested by his reputation for greed, gluttony, and rapine. Now who does that remind me of?
Having only recently listened to Dante’s Inferno on my foot patrols I noticed many incidents in this novel that recall passages in it. According to our author then, Dante found much of Hell on the streets and byways of Florence. Nicely done that. These references are codified in an afterword I discovered when I got there.
I also savoured the portrayal of the other priors, who like the prestige of the assignment, but are loath to do any of the work that is supposed to go with it. I could not help but recall all those university colleagues who festooned their CVs with every committee assignment they ever had, and laboured to avoid doing any of the committee’s work, mainly by never attending meetings.
IMDb meta-data is a runtime 1h and 34m, rated 5.4 by 184 cineastes.
Genre: SyFY; Species: Shaggy Dog.
DNA: TarHeels (NZ Sons)
Verdict: Homage to Paul (2011).
Tagline: ‘Yes, Ma’am…Sheriff!’
Four women in their early twenties have a girls’ night out that turns out to be (inter)stellar when Dave crashes to Earth. Oops!
Budget zero and imagination galore combine in a diverting 90 minutes. Followed by Zombie Repellent (2025), runtime 1h 17m, rated 4.7 by 258 spoilsports. George Romero move over. It’s a cackle!
IMDb meta-data is a runtime of 1h and 24m, rated 6.5 by 177 cineastes.
Genre: Comedy.
DNA: Iceland.
Verdict: Four hoots and one holler!
Tagline: Yin and Yang.
Reykjavík’s only chamber orchestra is going down the fiscal drain. Its last diehard six members often outnumber the paying customers in the decaying concert hall it owns. In addition to the musicians there is a stage manager cum electrician-handyman and a makeup artist who also does the tea and sweeps up. These eight depend on an Arts Council grant to keep up the façade of the theatre and the orchestra, but…. Yes the budget cutters are at it again. Around the world they have learned that cutting education and arts is easy and has little political blowback.
The orchestra’s leader does not take no for an answer but that is still the answer. No more Icy krónas are coming from the 400,000 taxlings who prefer rugby. Accordingly, it is almost too good to be true when the one and only world-famous cellist born of Iceland announces in Tokyo that he is leaving the world stage to return home. Instantly Leader makes full frontal contact and they agree to a gala return performance.
Yep, if it seems almost too good to be true, then in cinema it surely and certainly is. This cellist’s music is yang but he is yin: He makes beautiful music and is a scumbag. Oh well, the show must go on, and the locals grin and bare it, literally in some cases. All of that was predictable, but then….the unpredictable starts happening and goes on. Delicious irony ensues when the puppeteer arrives with her staple gun. See it to believe it. Laughter follows. Much.
Not sure what to make of the implicit message though. Does the music critic labour under cultural cringe so that nothing local can be good? If an audience expects beautiful music then is that what it hears? Was the orchestra that good all along? Or did the challenge of working with a totemic figure bring out the best in them, and unite them (in crime)? Also unresolved was the raised eyebrow of the chief of police.
P.S. Stay in your seat for the coda!
***
We saw it at the Scandinavian film festival aptly called ‘Go North’ in Leichhardt at the very comfortable Palace cinema. It started on time, the preliminary adverts were not nearly as numbing as they usually are at the Dendy Newtown nor were there any Hollywood kapow previews, and it ended without a fuss. These facts contrast with the experience to the Czech and Slovak film Festival screening we attended a few months ago at the Dendy that started very late, featured the worst of Val Morgan advertising (!) followed by trailers galore, and had a long tail-end. On the other hand the Czech and Slovak session seemed more a community event while the Scandinavian one felt like an advertising campaign.
Good Reads meta-data is 146 pages, rated 3.11 by 193 litizens
Genre: Sy Fy.
Verdict: Kept me guessing.
Tagline: ‘Gulp!’
The briefings for the 1942 Operation Torch included everything but an encounter with an alien or a trip in its craft (forward a billion years or so in time). Two Allied agents on a secret mission behind enemy lines in Tunisia meet two Germans on a similar quest but before they can kill each other and be done with it by page 10, there is that presence against which they, hesitantly combine forces.
It is the usual suspects in this motley crew, a Scots scientist, an upper-lip-stiffed Brit, a crazed Nasty, and a mercenary woman. When they emerge from the craft they find a strange old world, and the strangeness is very well portrayed, as is the porcelain living doll they find there.
Adventures follow. What they needed was Captain Future and the three Future Men (tricky though because none of the latter trio is a man).
Turns out ’47’ was the right answer. ‘729’ was a close second.
Kuttner and Moore
Both the aberrant strangeness of the alien and the old world are the best parts of the book. I found it intriguing and diverting for a few hours. Though there were two women – one wily and one porcelain – in the story, both are ciphers, and disappear in the last two acts.
The date 1 January refers to the publication of the first episode in a serial form of the novel only a few months after Operation Torch.