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Showing posts with label Mark Frost. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mark Frost. Show all posts

Thursday, November 01, 2018

Granular Band

Some Ungood Photography: I suspect I shot this with my old Kodak 110 camera, and that the flash didn't go off, resulting in this incredibly noisy picture. Battle of the Bands in Leduc, February 1986. 

Sunday, December 31, 2017

Books I Read in 2017

This year represents a step back for me on several fronts. I read less this year than last, my fare was less diverse, my reading more concentrated on the present decade than ever before, and I still can't seem to reach gender parity. All in all, I read 123 books this year, down from 135 last year. 150 remains an elusive dream.

You'll also note that several of the books I read this year were novella or even novelette length. I included them on the list, after some debate, rationalizing that some of the larger books I read this year could count as three or four regular-length novels, so hopefully it all evens out.

I started a new job this year, and I'm talking half-hour lunches instead of the one hour I indulged at ATCO. That's cut back on my reading time quite a bit, as did our road trip in August and some stress issues I don't want to write about here. Excuses, excuses, yes.

On to the books themselves. There's a lot of Fred Saberhagen on this list, as I had intended to read all of the Berserker books this year; I didn't make it.

There's also a bunch of Lois McMaster Bujold, because I think her stuff is great. I must say, though, that the Penric and Desdemona series isn't quite grabbing me; I don't feel like there's much jeopardy to be had. I realize that things tend to turn out fine in the end in most of her work, but even so, the stakes seem pretty low here.

I read and enjoyed two books by people I know this year: Kevin Taft's latest political book, Oil's Deep State, and my colleague Nerys Parry's novel Man & other Natural Disasters. Kevin's book is thoroughly researched, well-argued, and important reading for anyone who cares about the corruptive influence on natural resource economies on democracy; Nerys' novel is haunting, evocative, bizarre (in a good way), and has a climax I really did not see coming.

I started reading Dashiell Hammett this year, and while I enjoyed Red Harvest and The Dain Curse, The Maltese Falcon really blew me away, and not just because of nostalgia for the film(s). Sam Spade is a once-in-a-century character, and he's embroiled in one of the truly great detective stories in this one. A real treat.

Jo Walton's trilogy of novels about Greek gods who decide to try and create Plato's ideal community is ambitious, tragic and funny, but didn't move me as much as her earlier, standalone works.

Film and television tie-in novels often aren't worth commentary, but I thoroughly appreciated Mark Frost's two Twin Peaks novels this year, particularly the latter, which provides frustrated viewers of season three with, if not closure, at least some interesting material to chew on. Most of the Star Trek tie-ins I read this year were, as usual, mundane, but David Mack's Section 31: Control, a Julian Bashir story that ties up a long-running subplot from the television series Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, was suspenseful and satisfying. And the comedic DS9 novellas from Paula Block and Terry Erdmann are good-natured and fun.

Connie Willis is always amazing, and I loved her latest, Crosstalk, a novel of romantic telepathy and overbearing relatives.

Here's each month's tally of books I read in 2017, followed by a genre, gender, and decade breakdown:

January: 9
Hag-Seed (Margaret Atwood, 2016)
Star Trek Deep Space Nine: Sacraments of Fire (David R. George III, 2015)
A Man Lies Dreaming (Lavie Tidhar, 2014)
Under the Moons of Mars (John Joseph Adams, 2012)
The Long Tomorrow (Leigh Brackett, 1955)
Star Trek Deep Space Nine: Ascendance (David R. George III, 2016)
The Evolution of the Iron Giant (Unknown, 2016)
Last Year (Robert Charles Wilson, 2016)
Red Harvest (Dashiell Hammett, 1929)

February: 10
The Feast of St. Dionysus (Robert Silverberg, 1975)
The Dain Curse (Dashiell Hammett, 1929)
The Maltese Falcon (Dashiell Hammett, 1930)
The Twilight Zone Companion, Second Edition (Marc Scott Zicree, 1989)
My Brother’s Keeper (Charles Sheffield, 1982)
Star Trek Deep Space Nine: Force and Motion (Jeffrey Lang, 2016)
Art of Atari (Tim Lapetino, 2016)
Star Trek Titan: Sight Unseen (James Swallow, 2015)
No Truce with Kings (Poul Anderson, 1963)
Ship of Shadows (Fritz Leiber, 1969)

March: 13
There Will be Time (Poul Anderson, 1972)
Anywhere but Here (Jerry Oltion, 2005)
Ideas of the Year: A Celebration (Unknown, 2016)
The Embarrassments of Science Fiction (Thomas M. Disch, 1975)
Big Ideas and Dead-End Thrills: The Further Embarrassments of Science Fiction (Thomas M. Disch, 1992)
The Art of Bombshells (Marguerite Bennett, 2016)
Now Write! Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror (Laurie Lamson, editor, 2014)
The Deluxe Transitive Vampire (Karen Elizabeth Gordon, 1993)
The New Well-Tempered Sentence (Karen Elizabeth Gordon, 1993)
International Financial Reporting Standards (Unknown, 2011)
MD&A: Guidance on Preparation (Unknown, 2009)
Sin and Syntax: How to Craft Wicked Prose (Constance Hale, 2013)
The Secret History of Twin Peaks (Mark Frost, 2016)

April: 18
Crosstalk (Connie Willis, 2017)
Out of the Loud Hound of Darkness (Karen Elizabeth Gordon, 1998)
Torn Wings and Faux Pas (Karen Elizabeth Gordon, 1997)
Star Trek Prey Book 1: Hell’s Heart (John Jackson Miller, 2016)
The Lady Astronaut of Mars (Mary Robinette Kowal, 2013)
Nine Lives (Ursula K. LeGuin, 1969)
The New Atlantis (Ursula K. LeGuin, 1975)
Bloodchild (Octavia E. Butler, 1985)
The Faery Handbag (Kelly Link, 2005)
Sooner or Later Everything Falls Into the Sea (Sarah Pinkser, 2016)
The Orangery (Bonnie Jo Stufflebeam, 2016)
You’ll Surely Drown Here If You Stay (Alyssa Wong, 2016)
The Art of Space Travel (Nina Allan, 2016)
Touring with the Alien (Carolyn Ives Gilman, 2016)
Silent Weapons for Quiet Wars (Unknown, 1979)
The Disheveled Dictionary (Karen Elizabeth Gordon, 1997)
The Collapsing Empire (John Scalzi, 2017)
Star Trek Prey Book 2: The Jackal’s Trick (John Jackson Miller, 2016)

May: 11
Blood Grains Speak Through Memories (Jason Sanford, 2016)
Breakout: How Atari 8-Bit Computers Defined a Generation (Jamie Lendino, 2017)
Gwendy’s Button Box (Stephen King and Richard Chizmar, 2017)
Old Mars (George R.R. Martin and Gardner Dozois, 2013)
The Last Man (Mary Shelley, 1826)
Crooked (Austin Grossman, 2015)
The Tomato Thief (Ursula Vernon, 2016)
In Sea-Salt Tears (Seanan McGuire, 2013)
It Takes Two (Nicola Griffith, 2009)
Sinner, Baker, Fabulist, Priest; Red Mask, Black Mask, Gentleman, Beast (Eugie Foster, 2009)
Eros, Philia, Agape (Rachel Swirsky, 2009)

June: 10
The Monster (Stephen Crane, 1898)
The Skylark of Space (E.E. “Doc” Smith, 1928)
Skylark Three (E.E. “Doc” Smith, 1930)
Subspace Explorers (E.E. “Doc” Smith, 1965)
Berserker (Fred Saberhagen, 1967)
Brother Assassin (Fred Saberhagen, 1969)
Berserker’s Planet (Fred Saberhagen, 1975)
Flower Fables (Louisa May Alcott, 1855)
Hospital Sketches (Louisa May Alcott, 1863)
Berserker Man (Fred Saberhagen, 1979)

July: 10
Star Trek Prey Book 3: Hall of Heroes (John Jackson Miller, 2016)
The Ultimate Enemy (Fred Saberhagen, 1979)
The Berserker Wars (Fred Saberhagen, 1981)
The Sagan Diaries (John Scalzi, 2006)
Judge Sn Goes Golfing (John Scalzi, 2009)
How I Proposed to My Wife: An Alien Sex Story (John Scalzi, 2007)
Star Trek Section 31: Control (David Mack, 2017)
Star Trek The Next Generation: Headlong Flight (Dayton Ward, 2017)
Man & other Natural Disasters (Nerys Parry, 2011)
Star Trek Deep Space Nine: The Long Mirage (David R. George III, 2017)

August: 8
The Berserker Throne (Fred Saberhagen, 1985)
Berserker: Blue Death (Fred Saberhagen, 1985)
Mash Up (Gardner Dozois, editor, 2016)
Star Trek: The Face of the Unknown (Christopher L. Bennett, 2017)
We Who Are About To… (Joanna Russ, 1976)
The Berserker Attack (Fred Saberhagen, 1987)
Berserker Lies (Fred Saberhagen, 1990)
Hidden Universe Travel Guide: Klingon (Dayton Ward, 2017)

September: 10
This Shared Dream (Kathleen Ann Goonan, 2011)
Metropolis (Thea von Harbou, 1925)
Clash of the Geeks (John Scalzi, editor, 2010)
Berserkers: The Beginning (Fred Saberhagen, 1998)
Hearts in Suspension (Stephen King, 2016)
Mighty Protectors (Jeff Dee, 2017)
The Female Man (Joanna Russ, 1975)
The Just City (Jo Walton 2014)
The Falling Woman (Pat Murphy, 1986)
Children of the Dust (Catherine Asaro, 2017)

October: 6
The Philosopher Kings (Jo Walton, 2015)
Oil’s Deep State (Kevin Taft, 2017)
Necessity (Jo Walton, 2016)
Star Trek The Next Generation: Hearts and Minds (Dayton Ward, 2017)
Star Trek Deep Space Nine: Enigma Tales (Una McCormack, 2017)
Twin Peaks: The Final Dossier (Mark Frost, 2017)

November: 3
The Memoirs of Wild Bill Hickok (Richard Matheson, 1996)
Career of Evil (J.K. Rowling writing as Robert Galbraith, 2015)
Shield of the Gods (Christopher L. Bennett, 2017)

December: 15
The Diviners (Margaret Laurence, 1974)
Sleeping Beauties (Stephen King and Owen King, 2017)
Proto Zoa (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2011)
Penric’s Demon (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2015)
Penric and the Shaman (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2016)
Penric’s Fox (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2017)
Penric’s Mission (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2017)
Mira’s Last Dance (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2017)
The Prisoner of Limnos (Lois McMater Bujold, 2017)
Rules of Accusation (Paula M. Block and Terry J. Erdmann, 2016)
Lust’s Latinum Lost (and Found) (Paula M. Block and Terry J. Erdmann, 2014)
I, the Constable (Paula M. Block and Terry J. Erdmann, 2017)
Hogwarts: An Incomplete and Unreliable Guide (J.K. Rowling, 2016)
Short Stories from Hogwarts of Heroism, Hardship, and Dangerous Hobbies (J.K. Rowling, 2016)
Short Stories from Hogwarts of Power, Politics, and Pesky Poltergeists (J.K. Rowling, 2016)

Nonfiction: 20
Fiction: 103

Genre
Fantasy: 23
Mainstream: 14
Science Fiction: 48
Star Trek: 18

Top Authors
Fred Saberhagen: 11

Lois McMaster Bujold: 7

Karen Elizabeth Gordon: 5
John Scalzi: 5
Unknown: 5

J.K. Rowling: 4

Paula M. Block: 3
Terry J. Erdmann: 3
David R. George III: 3
Dashiell Hammett: 3
Stephen King: 3
John Jackson Miller: 3
E.E. “Doc” Smith: 3
Dayton Ward: 3
Jo Walton: 3

Louisa May Alcott: 2
Poul Anderson: 2
Christopher L. Bennett: 2
Thomas M. Disch: 2
Gardner Dozois: 2
Mark Frost: 2
Ursula K. LeGuin: 2
Joanna Russ: 2

Books by Women: 59
Books by Men: 64

Books by Decade
1820s: 1
1850s: 1
1860s: 1
1890s: 1
1920s: 4
1930s: 2
1950s: 1
1960s: 6
1970s: 11
1980s: 8
1990s: 9
2000s: 9
2010s: 69

Saturday, September 09, 2017

Some More Thoughts on Twin Peaks: The Return

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON THREE OF 
TWIN PEAKS

In my last post about the return of Twin Peaks, I neglected to mention some of the factors that contributed to my admiration for the third season:


  • Each episode completely captured my attention, holding me riveted to the screen. It's been ages since any television show achieved that feat. 
  • Miraculously, the production team kept the show's secrets held very close; no episodes were spoiled. 
  • I never knew what was coming next. Having watched countless hours of film and television, I've gotten very good at spotting formulas and predicting character and story arcs well before their conclusion. I utterly failed to predict anything about Twin Peaks
  • I didn't dare hope for it, but Major Briggs' beautiful vision about Bobby's future from season two actually played out in season three. Bobby's redemption and growth were beautiful to see. 
  • I absolutely love that several important characters from the show's first two seasons had pivotal roles to play in the unfolding of season three, particularly Deputy Andy, probably my second-favourite character, who has a great extended moment in one of the later episodes. 
  • I loved the many touches of quirky, absurdist humour, most especially Sheriff Truman's pop-up wooden computer and Carl Rodd's superheroic action van. 
  • Episode 8, in which Lynch and Frost take the audience inside a nuclear explosion to witness the birth of evil, is perhaps the most insane and spectacular thing I've ever seen on television.
  • This season of Twin Peaks frankly captures the passage of time and refuses to gloss over its impact on the aging original cast. How could we ever have expected Dale Cooper to just pop out of limbo and join his law enforcement buddies as if only days had passed? He spent 25 years in there, while in the outside world people got old, died, or otherwise moved on. It's easy enough to wonder why Donna Hayward, for example, rated not a single mention on the show (save for one line of dialogue in archival footage), considering her importance in seasons one and two. But there's a simple explanation: she left Twin Peaks behind and built a new life. 
  • Perhaps most importantly, I appreciated the show's unflinching refusal to compromise its own artistic integrity. There were no easy solutions or lazy storytelling choices to be found, even when making the hard choices upset the audience, including me. 
Twin Peaks can be utterly confounding, baffling, frustrating. But it is, without question, a singular work of art that people will be debating for a long time to come. I'm just grateful it exists, and that I lived to see it return. 

Monday, September 04, 2017

That Gum I Like Never Went Out of Style



WARNING: SPOILERS ABOUND FOR THE THIRD SEASON OF TWIN PEAKS

Last night, Sean and I watched, bewildered, as David Lynch and Mark Frost stayed true to their most genuine and frustrating form, refusing to provide Twin Peaks audiences with closure and instead ending the series - probably forever - on a shriek of confused, helpless horror.

Like Sean, I was disappointed by what felt like a meandering and almost cruel final hour, especially after the tease of the penultimate episode, which seemed to promise a reasonably happy, if strange, ending for characters I've loved for nearly 30 years. In that second-to-last hour, our heroes converge on Twin Peaks to rid the world of the malevolence of BOB. It's as funny, surreal, and thrilling as anything in Lynch's ouvre - but it's not enough. Dale Cooper, aided by the mysterious figures of the White Lodge, travels back in time in an effort to prevent poor, sad, lost Laura Cooper from being murdered on the fateful day of February 23, 1989. And at first, it seems to have worked. But just as Dale is leading Laura home to her mother, she slips from his grasp, vanishing with a scream, presumably whisked away by Judy, the Mother of Evil. And this is where the show failed for me last night on an emotional level - but with the benefit of a night's sleep and some difficult reflection, I have to admit that the last hour of Twin Peaks is thematically consistent and supports a dark, difficult vision that I didn't want to recognize on first viewing.

It's pointless to summarize the plot of the final hour, except to say that Dale never gives up trying to save Laura, and that is what dooms him. He finds himself, apparently, in a Texas of a different time, or a parallel world, or perhaps just a different dream state; in any event, gone is the confident, pure-hearted FBI agent we saw return so briefly in episodes 16 and 17. In the final act, Cooper is adrift, he's given a different name, and he's lost much of his joy. He uses excessive force on a trio of goons, holds an innocent at gunpoint, and shows not a flicker of delight when presented with a cup of coffee. He's not evil, but he's not the same man we knew and loved. (How could he be, after all he's experienced?) In this reality, in fact, he seems to be Richard, a callback to the very first moments of this season, in which the Giant and Dale converse in the White Lodge.

Cooper finds Laura, though she doesn't seem to think she really is Laura at all, but a woman named Carrie Page. She agrees to go with him to Twin Peaks anyway, as things seem to be bad for her here; there's a recently-murdered body in her house. Even after Dale has supposedly saved her, it appears Laura can never escape violence and darkness.

Much of the episode is spent on the long drive from Odessa, Texas, to Twin Peaks. There's barely any conversation; at one point, Carrie wonders if they're being followed, but the anonymous headlights of the vehicle behind them merely pass by.

Eventually, Dale and Carrie arrive in Twin Peaks, which is strangely devoid of traffic, though the episode doesn't call attention to this. They park in front of the Palmer home, and Dale, still intent on a quest that should have ended 25 years ago, insists on knocking on the front door and delivering Laura home.

But Sarah Palmer doesn't answer the door. It's a woman we've never seen before: Alice Tremond. Confused, Cooper wonders if they bought the house recently from someone else - the Palmers, he's certainly thinking. But the homeowner says she bought the house from Mrs. Chalfont...who, fans will remember, was the strange woman who lived with her grandson above the evil convenience store of Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me. Cooper and Carrie walk back across the street. But after a moment of though, Cooper suddenly asks "What year is it?" And then someone - presumably Sarah Palmer - screams "LAURA!" from inside the house. Carrie screams, and I think this is where she realizes who she really is and the awful fate that's in store for her. She's awakened to the horror of her new reality, and her terrorized cries reverberate as the lights of the Palmer house flicker off, plunging all into darkness; roll credits.

Though presented obliquely, like much of Twin Peaks, the plot is really pretty simple after all; Judy, the Mother of Evil, won't let Laura go, perhaps, as revealed earlier, because Laura is the embodiment or avatar of good in the universe, as shown earlier this season. Dale Cooper is, perhaps, her White Lodge-appointed guardian, and has been all along.

Even before this finale, I realized that this third and final season of Twin Peaks was rich with layered commentary on the state of the world as it is today, as it was in some imagined Golden Age, and the nature of artistic creation itself. For example, throughout this season, Lynch and Frost teased their audience with meandering scenes of hyper-reality that seemed to have little purpose. To wit: several minutes spent watching a nameless custodian sweep the floor of the Roadhouse, the finale's endless scenes of night driving, side conversations from several characters about trivia that leads nowhere, the false foreshadowing of a young woman's underarm rash, Big Ed drinking coffee in his garage. These moments stand in stark contrast with the many episodes of horror, violence, hilarity and surreal quirkiness that define the show. I believe Lynch and Frost deliberately create this contrast to make their audiences squirm, to force us to feel the discomfort and loss of control that the characters in the show feel.

In the real world, nothing makes sense; only in constructed drama do stories pan out neatly, with satisfying conclusions and narrative closure. For all its madness, Twin Peaks is, in this way, perhaps the most realistic story ever told on television. We, the audience, feel like we deserve, if not happy endings, then at least some kind of ending we can understand and put in a comfortable box. I'll admit that I was, even if unconsciously, hoping for that, too, last night. I didn't get it, and I was disappointed.

But on reflection, even though I was hoping for better days for Dale Cooper and his friends, I realize that would have been somewhat cheap, and perhaps even monstrous in light of what I think Lynch and Frost are really trying to communicate: evil is forever with us, but we fight it anyway, with love, even if in the end it's hopeless.

Twin Peaks is full of warmth and love, even in the midst of unspeakable horror and tragedy. The show is full of people of genuine goodness, epitomized by Dale Cooper and his fellow agents in the FBI and by Sheriff Truman and his deputies in Twin Peaks. Even the show's villains, from BOB on down, are sympathetic in some way; troubled pasts are inferred, and even BOB himself didn't ask to be born; as revealed in this season's mind-blowing episode 8, human beings, through the atomic bomb, unleashed BOB and his cohorts into the world. BOB and Judy are forces of nature as much as they are villains.

But the suffering they cause is all too real. Laura Palmer's long arc of horrifying inevitability is all the more heartbreaking with the show's final revelation: Laura is doomed, was always doomed, is forever doomed, despite the valiant efforts of all the good people who try to help her.

And yet those good people keep trying, even after she's died.

It's possible that I'm rationalizing the finale somewhat, that I've overthought the ending to compensate or wish away my initial disappointment. I hope that's not true, because the disappointment is still there, but I've shifted the blame to my own perceptions rather than perceived deficiencies in the work. I think it's important to remember, too, that all along I've been utterly delighted by this third remarkable season; I admire its determination not to pander to a nostalgic audience, to create an entirely different sort of television show. Say what you will, but there is nothing else on TV like this, and maybe there never will be again.

When Twin Peaks went off the air back in 1990, I was rueful. In just a few months, that show became as important to me, if not more so, than Star Trek, not just as television entertainment, but as a lens through which to make sense of a troubled world. I never expected it to return, and I regard this season as a tremendous gift. It will haunt me for a long time.


Tuesday, May 02, 2017

After the Big Reveal

Dark days. I'm currently re-watching Twin Peaks, and I have reached the show's nadir - the run of about a half-dozen episodes in between the big mid-season reveal of Laura Palmer's killer (and the killer's fate) and the return to greatness of the last handful of episodes before cancellation.

This low point features heavy emphasis on storylines no one cared about, including little Nicky, James Hurley's pseudo-noir escapade, and Benjamin Horne's brief descent into Civil War insanity. The hiatus of David Lynch and Mark Frost is keenly felt as the show descends into embarrassing sitcom tropes - not even the actors can save the material, though they try valiantly.

I think I'm through the worst of it now; the offending storylines all wrapped up in the latest episode I re-watched, so that should mean a return to more interesting material, such as the mystery of the Black Lodge and the unfolding plot of Dale Cooper's nemesis, Windom Earle.

I'm amazed by how quickly this show went from masterpiece to embarrassment, then (almost) back again in the space of just a few episodes. Thankfully, Lynch and Frost are fully invested in all 18 episodes of the forthcoming season three, so the new material should be a little more consistent, even if it fails to achieve the greatness of the first season and the better parts of the second season. 

Monday, October 06, 2014

It Is Happening Again: That Gum I Like is Coming Back in Style and There's Always Music in the Air


SOMETIMES MY ARMS BEND BACK!

One of my very favourite television shows, Twin Peaks, died an abrupt and premature death a quarter century ago. I was still in university and at the time the off-kilter world created by David Lynch and Mark Frost spoke to me in a way no other work of art ever has.

"This is what the world is really like," I thought at the time. I didn't mean that in a literal way - I didn't think that Lynch and Frost were describing reality, exactly...but they opened up a window on the world as I saw and still see it - absurd, strange, incomprehensible, bizarre, but also full of truth, beauty and love. The adventures of Dale Cooper, Sheriff Truman, Deputies Hawk and Andy, Dr. Jacoby, the Palmers, the Hornes, Bob and Mike and Bob and Mike, Big Ed, the Log Lady and all the rest captivated me week after week for those two brief, shining seasons from start to finish (well, there was a bit of a lull in the middle there, but no work of art is without its flaws).

It ended with a cliffhanger: Dale Cooper was possessed by the malevolent Bob, and the show's millions of fans howled in frustration when news of the cancellation came.

But now it's back, and just as Laura Palmer predicted - "I'll see you in 25 years" - Lynch and Frost will bring a nine-episode Twin Peaks miniseries to Showtime, set 25 years later.

The only pop culture news that would excite me more than this would be discovering a lost fourth season of the original Star Trek. That's how much I loved Twin Peaks. The wait between now and 2016, when the third season is broadcast, is going to be one long, long stay in the Black Lodge for me. But I can wait.