Balmaha is a village on the eastern shores of Loch Lomond. I remember the Maid of the Loch used to call there on its trips up and down the loch back in the day.

The Loch from Balmaha:-

Boats on the loch:-

Present day pier:-

Looking south from pier:-

Loch inlet at Balmaha:-

Angry Robot, 2018, 380 p.

The first sentence of this novel sets the action in 1959. But it’s not the 1959 of our world. Though the tale proper starts off in a noirish way a prologue chapter has already revealed to us an apparently dead man on a library floor whose skin is covered in words; not tattoos, since they’re moving. A man covered in stories.

For we are in Storyville. A city run by a Narrative Council. A city whose suburbs and streets are named after writers – Lower Shakespeare, Rabelais Walk, Calvino Road, Plath Lane etc. There’s even a Bradbury Avenue, plus an Asimov reference. A pivotal location is the Melville Estate, particularly Melville Tower Five.

Our protagonist is Nyquist, a private investigator whose current case involves following a man called Patrick Wellborn. Inside Melville Tower Five Wellborn attacks him with a knife and Nyquist kills him in self-defence. Ramifications ripple out from this act. A woman named Zelda Courtland was to meet Welborn in the Tower and becomes embroiled with Nyquist. This brings them both into conflict with a heavy called Dreylock whose body is criss-crossed with scars, liable to open at any moment and pour blood everywhere. Bee-like creatures known as alphabugs, each marked with a glowing letter, – though never an ‘x’ – occasionally flit about. Partway through the novel we discover Melville Tower Five has a tree growing up through its floors – all the way to the roof and beyond. Whether this is meant to refer to the Yggdrasil legend is not entirely clear (though seems likely) but it nevertheless comes over as a bit gratuitous.

Referentiality or self-referentiality is a recurring emblem. Nyquist is a character in a book who comes to think of himself as a character in a book – or is at least reading about “himself.” He encounters pages from The book – called The Body Library, fragments written in midnight’s ink. The pages of the book can be burned and the smoke inhaled. Later we read, “The night had been cut up into pieces, sliced by a blade into strips, and then glued back together in the wrong order.”

In his search for the lost Zelda Nyquist comes across the place where she is said to have been executed. A boy witness says to him, “‘All the stories, mister …. all the lousy, unwanted, lonely, disgusting, forgotten stories, all the tales that no-one wants in the city, they flow through the pipes, they get flushed clean away and they get pumped out, right here, in the mud and the dirt and the shit.’”

Dreylock tells Nyquist, “‘The Body Library is a novel, a book, and a rather special one at that.’” Made of extracts of cut-ups and splinters. “‘Everything that happens in this tower’” says Dreylock ,…“‘happens because of The Body Library.’” The book contained the city, it was the city. For the people whose skins are covered in words midnight’s ink makes them believe they’re inside a story. “‘Words make us, and keep us. Words embrace us. Words save us from our true selves, covering us in story. Words deliver us from everyday life.’” A woman called Daisy says, “‘Zelda was scared to death of words.’” Storyville’s Grand Hall of Narrative Content, where the city’s inhabitants’ stories are being written down, is an instrument of control.

The whole thing of course is a metaphor for reading – even a pleading for the necessity for story. But it’s slightly misplaced. However much an author may try to steer the reader to a certain point or conclusion he or she is not in sole charge. The reader brings his or her own experiences to the enterprise, makes his or her own judgement while they are reading. Sometimes that means concluding the author has gone too far. In literature, less can be more.

Pedant’s corner:- Written in USian. Otherwise; “femme fatales” (fatale is an adjective here – even in English. The noun is ‘femme’, its plural is ‘femmes’ hence we should have ‘femmes fatales’.) “‘So why don’t you sit down and tell me.’” (Is a question and so requires a question mark at its end.) “He hardly noticed when one of the screws worked itself free” (a page earlier he had been panicking as this started to happen.) “‘Who it is?’” (‘Who is it?’)

I posted one photograph of the War Memorial inside St Augustine’s in my first post about the church. At the West Dunbartonshire Open Day in September I took a few more.

Dedications. “1914-1919. To the glory of God in proud remembrance.” Below “1939-1945.”

Lower left portion:-

Lower right portion:-

The total inscription reads, “These gave their lives for King and country in the Great War. Whosoever shall lose his life shall preserve it.”

I never took to The Smiths. I couldn’t get on with singer Morrissey’s posturing and narcissism.

But I am glad that, on his death, the band’s bassist Andy Rourke has got the recognition he deserved. He was an integral part of the group’s sound.

His bass is well to the fore here.

The Smiths:

Andrew Michael (Andy) Rourke: 17/1/1964 – 19/5/2023. So it goes.

NewCon Press, 2022, p. Reviewed for ParSec 5.

In her introduction to this collection of twenty-three stories taken from various sources, editor Donna Scott wonders about the shadow the Covid pandemic will cast over Science Fiction. Though few of the submissions to her had addressed it directly she sees its influence as being present in subtler ways – isolation being one of the themes. The book’s contents cover a relatively wide spectrum of SF tropes (the generation starship seems to be making a comeback, though time travel continues to be somewhat out of vogue.)

As to the stories themselves….

In ‘Distribution’ by Paul Cornell a local authority operative investigates a man who has divided his consciousness among parts of himself that he now keeps in tubes.

‘Stealthcare’ by Liz Williams focuses on an insurance assessor investigating possible fraud in a future where health is expensively monitored by interactive wrist band.

‘Down and Out Under the Tannhauser Gate’ by David Gullen centres on an old soldier eking out her existence by the interstellar gate where she was the only human survivor of the last battle and waiting for her chance to pass through to its imagined delights.

The superbly written ‘Me Two’ by Keith Brooke and Eric Brown is a poignant tale relating the connection, from first awareness(es) to death, of a consciousness switching daily between Danny Madison in London and Cristina Velásquez in Barcelona.

In Tim Major’s ‘The Andraiad,’ Martin is the andraiad replacement for a man who committed a violent crime, and is determined to be a better person than his predecessor.

The action of ‘Bloodbirds’ by Martin Sketchley occurs after the Qall have come, used humanity as humans had used other animals, and then gone again, leaving inside people cells which will form Qall embryos, emerge with little warning, and devastate their erstwhile host. Nikki is an Angel, part of the Vanguard who hunt down these surrogates. Then she meets a possible surrogate man who treats her kindly.

In ‘Going Home’ by Martin Westlake a Russian scientist is in effect conscripted to investigate mysterious fragments found in the area where Tunguska was struck by a meteorite              . Or was the devastation there caused by a conflict between angels?

Spookily atmospheric, ‘Okamoto’s Lens’ by A N Myers centres on the eponymous lens which acts a bit like Bob Shaw’s slow glass, only in reverse. It can capture images of the future.

Set in Leith, ‘Love in the Age of Operator Errors’ by Ryan Vance explores the illicit use of memory technology to access the experiences of the narrator’s lost boyfriend.

‘Stone of Sorrow’ by Peter Sutton combines two new technologies, an experimental system for regenerating farm soil and a top secret army transportation system in a story whose focus doesn’t stray from concern for its characters.

Bearing some tonal resemblances to Daniel Keyes’s Flowers for Algernon, ‘Henrietta’ by T H Dray features a retired plastic-eating artificial life-form which wants to see a sunrise.

The light-hearted ‘A History of Food Additives in 22^nd Century Britain’ by Emma Levin does what its title promises. The entry for 2150 is especially sardonic.

‘The Trip’ by Michael Crouch has a professor and a newly qualified former student undertake an archaeological expedition on a new planet, where they make a mind-expanding discovery.

‘The Ghosts of Trees’ by Fiona Moore. A plant researcher working in the Nevada desert on plants suitable for use on Mars sees the ghosts of trees, specifically the trees in the footage of 1950s nuclear test explosions.

Russell Hemmell’s ‘The Opaque Mirror of Your Face’ is narrated by a faceless cyborg, part of a human spinal fluid harvesting team, who steals – down to the seventh dermal level – the face of a young woman to use as his own. Her revenge is not what you might expect.

Aliya Whiteley’s ‘More Sea Creatures to See’ features aliens who, unbeknownst to humans, are slowly replacing them in order to turn Earth into a theme park.

Remarkably effective at evoking memories for those of a certain age, ‘The End of All Exploring’ by Gary Couzens is a hymn both to all those unrecorded 1960s TV moments forever lost to the ether and to the man who comes back in time to record them.

David Cleden’s ‘How Does My Garden Grow?’ is set on a generation starship whose occupants are obsessed with keeping the recycling ratio as high as possible.

‘Girls’ Night Out’ by Teika Marija Smits relates an experience of “bottled” memories by hybrids who are used to do the unpleasant jobs necessary for wider society to function.

‘Bar Hopping for Astronauts’ by Leo X Robertson finds a former astronaut who has been locked into his space suit for twenty years having to come to terms with the modern world.

‘In Aeturnus’ by Phillip Irving sees a man trapped in a never-ending cycle of regeneration and disposal.

Emma Johanna Puranen’s ‘A Spark in a Flask’ is set in a moonbase abandoned to robot caretakers supervising a series of experiments set up to engender life. The protocols are not set to cater for the project’s success.

A tale about the survivor of an airlock accident having to overcome her fears, the elegantly allusively titled ‘A Pall of Moondust’ by Nick Wood references other SF stories set on the Moon as well as the Arthur C Clarke story its title echoes.

In summary, there is nothing remarkably new here but all are good examples of the genre, many illustrating what it is best suited to explore, the human condition under stress.

Pedant’s corner:- In the Introduction: Smits’ (Smits’s,)  Myers’ (Myers’s.) Otherwise; “its” (it’s,) “steps back down them with he sees Shan hasn’t followed” (when he sees Shan hasn’t,) WID (elsewhere WIS, for Wehlberg’s Inflammatory Syndrome,) missing start quotation marks. “‘She said she’d always has this one’” (always had this one.) ‘I thought about it. “some women too.”’ (either; no full stop but a comma; or; ‘Some women too’,) ‘Dumass” brigade’ (Dumas’s brigade,) ;the aliens” stillness’ (the aliens’ stillness,) no capital letters on a new piece of direct speech (x 2,) “you ‘ve done it” (you’ve done it,) “as they set of up the steps” (set off,) “I ‘ll come back” (I’ll come back,) “three Cytheran” (Cytherans,) Louis’ (x 3, Louis’s.) “The nine on the lower deck” (in the previous paragraph we are told there had been sixteen on the lower deck, nine on the upper,) unfocussed (unfocused,) whiskey (x 2. This is set in Birmingham [and not the one in Alabama]: whisky,then,) camelia (x 2, camellia,) Chris’ (Chris’s,) “leaving for her sisters’” (her sister’s.) “The receptionist clicks their tongue” (the receptionist had previously been described as a man; so; ‘clicks his tongue’,) “set him at odds to” (at odds with,) whiskey (in Leith it’s whisky,) “the civil war” (Civil War,) span (x 2, spun,) “porch swing” (for a story set in England a farm having a porch swing is unlikely.) “I acknowledge that the growing inefficiency of my mouth-parts, gut and legs necessitate precautionary measures” (the growing inefficiency ….. necessitates precautionary measures,) McVities’ (McVitie’s,) “meeting up with the one that got away after twenty years ago” (either ‘the one got away after twenty years’ or, ‘the one got away twenty years ago.) “‘That is what you we’re thinking’” (you were thinking,) a paragraph break in the middle of a sentence (x 2.) “The only thing I can seem to see in sharp focus are little bursts of light” (the only thing …. is little bursts.) “There are a mix of colours” (there is a mix,) “the cushioning effect of mycelial layers on the floor become more apparent” (the cushioning effect … becomes more apparent.) “Fungi can eat rock and absorb the mineral content into its own being” (fungi is a plural word; so; ‘into their own being’,) “eager to see what else lay beyond” (the rest of the paragraph is in present tense; ‘what lies beyond’,) “into the gaping maw of the passage entrance” (a maw is a stomach, not a mouth,) “neither of us were in a state” (neither of us was,) “Hangar is just passed the check point” (just past.) “Whatever ripe human muscles a human body owns is at risk” (ripe human muscles …. are at risk.) “‘Healthy for what I can see from a superficial reading’” (Healthy from what I can see,) “he began (rest is in present tense; begins,) “concentrated in listening to” (concentrated on,) “it has the excitement of the novelty” (of the novel,) “as he has done a while ago” (as he had done,) “or we careful avoid developing one” (carefully,) “I’m incapable to get rid of both” (it’s not ‘incapable to’ it’s ‘incapable of’; incapable of getting rid.) “I have to be contented in touching her lips” (contented with touching,) “for what it’s going to happen” (what is going to happen.) “‘Since the first time you’ve screwed me’” (the first time you screwed me,) Woolworth’s (Woolworths,) “<em>TV Time</em>” (<em>TV Times</em>; correctly titled lower down the same page,) “whom I met once I week” (once a week.) “I could day more” (say more?) “He turned to face m.” (to face me.) “I was furious at have been lied to” (at having been.) “I hurried down the stars” (stairs.) “‘I’m the one they’ve come from’” (they’ve come for,) “‘has involved us with us in this matter’” (no need for that ‘with us’,) “photograph if a bride and groom standing hand in hand” (of a bride and groom,) “the fading purple of chive flowers are hung with melancholy” (has something syntactically wrong about it. ‘The fading purple … is hung with melancholy’ is more grammatical but odd. ‘The fading purple chive flowers are hung with melancholy’ just about works,) smartglass’ (smartglass’s,) “open doorways loom dark like maws” (maws are stomachs, not mouths,) descendent (descendant,) “wide as a monster’s maw” (it’s a stomach, not a mouth.) “‘Do we need to titrate your medication and increase your dose?’” (titrate is not the correct verb here,) Baines’ (x 2, Baines’s,) knobkierie (Afrikaans spelling of knobkerrie.)

It was something I took for granted growing up but the communion rail of St Augustine’s Church Dumbarton is actually a memorial to the dead of the First World War.

Communion rails, St Augustine’s, Dumbarton. Inscribed “To the glory of God and in loving memory of thos ewho gave their lives in the Great War 1914 1919.”:-

You will note the angels on the gateposts:-

These are thought to be modelled on “the Angels of Mons.” On the West Dunbartonshire open day last September a leaflet on one of the rails provided background information:-

The legend of the angels was certainly a useful morale booster to the Allies at the time when the war had settled down into trench stalemate but there is if course no evidence for any actual supernatural intervention – whether by angels or bowmen from Agincourt. The fact that the war continued for another four years of industrialised slaughter would suggest that any divine interference in its outcome was severely lacking.

Pedant’s corner:- The leaflet refers to a General Dorrien-Smith. His name was actually Horace Smith-Dorrien.

While we’re on literary matters.

A few weeks ago I was contacted by the author Andrew Crumey who informed me he appreciated my comments on his prevous books, that he had a new one coming out eintitled Beethoven’s Assassins and that I ought to contact the publisher (Dedalus) to obtain a copy. (If they failed to oblige he would send me one himself.) What a nice man.

As you can see from my sidebar Dedalus did indeed oblige and I have started reading it.

Also received, this time from ParSec, is Chimera, a book written by Alice Thompson who was once a member of the band The Woodentops and has eight previous novels to her name. As far as I’m aware none of them was a work of Science Fiction. I confess I have not read any of them. I assume the review (once I write it) will appear in issue 8.

Martin Amis has died.

One of the Best Young British Novelists of that first 1983 edition, a stellar list which well lived up to the accolade.

Somehow or other, though, I have never got around to reading any of his books. Reviews of them failed to enthuse me.

I also swerved the TV adaptation of Money, its trailers did not entice me.

By all acounts the loss is mine.

Time’s Arrow, however, has been on my tbr list for years. I suppose I should get round to it.

Martin Louis Amis: 25/8/1949 – 19/5/2023. So it goes.

In my previous post about St Augustine’s Church, Dumbarton, I mentioned that I ought to have photographed its fine stained glass west window from inside.

In September, on West Dunbartonshire’s open day, I got the opportunity.

From body of church:-

Closer view:-

There is a smaller set of stained glass windows (at the back of the left-hand aisle as you look at the above):-

And of course there is another set of stained glass wimdows above the altar. Chancel and altar:-

An addition to the church from when I remembered it there has been a new addition, a cross made by artist John Woodcock to commemorate those who have died of addiction:-

Inscription:-

Balnain Books, 1991, 174 p. With illustrations by Barbara Robertson.

Almost the last novel Mitchison wrote, this is set in the Frankish Empire a few years after the death of Charlemagne. Narrator Drogo is the son of a Lord who owes his fealty to the new King Louis but he is not close to his father. His true influences are his confessors at the local Abbey, where he has learned the noble speech, Latin. His is a world dominated by Christian belief, of God’s Empire, Holy Roman, under an anointed King. A world where oaths are not merely a solemn undertaking, but sacred.

So it is that his father is troubled when he is called to take the oath, not to the King himself but, in his name, to the Count of Paris. Yet the words will be personal. Wriggling on the hooks of conscience will be required if, as the Count seems to presage, he begins to act against the King.

Other important characters in Drogo’s young life are his half-brother Haimo (got on the wrong side of the blanket) and Wolfin, a Saxon hostage whom they meet in Paris. Their first taste of battle comes when Vikings make a raid up the River Seine – a diversion which at least puts off the dread day of oath-taking. Drogo acquits himself well but Wolfin is killed.

In the aftermath Drogo becomes part of a band of swords for hire – all but brigands -stravaiging about the lands of what is now southern France, the agitation of his soul mounting, while waiting for the chance to deliver a letter from his Abbot to one in the monastery of Gellone. While there Dhuoda, the local Lady, asks to see him. She has a task; for him to deliver a letter to her childhood friend, now in Cordoba, in the Saracen lands,  a thought which almost appals Drogo. Yet his confusion at the acceptance he finds there will add to his experiences as he grows into knowing who he is.

In this slim volume, a minor work by any standard, Mitchison has delved into the mediæval Christian mindset, as dogmatic as any, and still shone a light on the deep roots of some of today’s antagonisms.

Pedant’s corner:- waggon (wagon,) Charles’ (Charles’s,) Gomez’ (Gomez’s.)