When he washed up, magnificent, we brought in
timber, nails and rope to build a frame
about his bones; we strapped his arms, his feet,
his neck, afraid he might lay out his sex to piss
upon our town. By the time we put our trust in him,
he was resigned; and when finally released, he lay,
dejected, too tired to eat. We shovelled fast food slowly
down his giant throat. He grew fat, we despaired
as he clogged up. His sad smell spilled
like some horse-rotted jungle lily; gulls barged
for space on his bloated belly. Until,
one morning, we discovered him, passed away,
skin blistered red and grey by sun.
Gulls took his death as permission
to streamer his guts with beaks and, shrieking,
lash them out across the groynes.
Days ebb out; a cottage industry uncoils,
as if direct from marrow bone, to make predictions
based on lungs, his intestinal map across the sand:
signs of how the world will end.
His forehead shifts as sand retreats; his torso
shrinks beneath our gaze; and now his hollowed head,
with old-mastered gauze, caves in, collapses out of sight,
to leave a promise in the flats.
I never read the Moomin books when I was growing up, though I vaguely remember seeing the TV series when I was a teenager. I suppose the cuddly characters indicated that there was nothing to see there, and I should move along.
But recently I have been tracking down and reading various books which are generally "Fantastical", mainly via 100 Must Read Fantasy Novels; Comet in Moominland was one mentioned there. I've just finished reading it to my daughter (7), and we both thoroughly enjoyed it.
It's the first of the Moomin books intended for older readers (the first was more for younger children), and while slow-moving to start with, and in many ways lacking in "action", it is humorous, lovable and graceful, but with a deep, darkly-tinged heart.
Some reviews I've read, talking about this book and the later ones, discuss themes in depth; one of the most important being that difference should be tolerated. The characters are very different from each other: some nomadic, some home-loving; some open, some insular; some pessimistic, some optimistic etc. But they all rub along together, and want to stay together, tolerating each other's differences. I have to be honest that this didn't occur to me during reading, but it does make sense in retrospect. Though that's not why I'm urging you to read the book.
The story is pretty simple: through various omens, Moomintroll realises a comet may be about to crash into the planet. The comet appears in the sky, and he sets out (with various friends) to ask some astronomers (fairly useless, it turns out) when the impact will happen. Towards the end of the book, they are racing back home to Moomin valley to hide in a cave they think will keep them safe. The comet has boiled the water out of the ocean and hangs threateningly overhead; they are using stilts to move over the drained ocean bed. At that point, there is a beautiful passage which almost made me cry. It's because of passages like this that I urge you to read it, even if you're an adult:
All about them stretched the strange sea landscape, which had been covered by millions of tons of water since the beginning of the world.
"You know it's rather solemn to be down here," said the Snork. "We must be pretty near the deepest part of the ocean by now."
But when they reached the biggest chasm of all they didn't dare go down. The sides sloped steeply and the bottom was obscured in green gloom. Perhaps there was no bottom! Perhaps the biggest octopuses in the world lived down there, brooding in the slime; creatures that nobody had ever seen, far less imagined. But the Snork maiden gazed longingly at an enormous and beautiful shell that was poised on the very brink of the chasm. It was a lovely pale colour, only to be found in the depths of the sea where no light penetrates, and its dusky heart glowed temptingly. The shell sang softly to herself the age-old song of the sea.
"Oh!" sighed the Snork maiden. "I should like to live in that shell. I want to go inside and see who is whispering in there."
"It's only the sea," said Moomintroll. "Every wave that dies on the beach sings a little song to a shell. But you mustn't go inside because it's a labyrinth and you may never come out."
So she was at last persuaded to go on, and they started to hurry, as dusk was falling, and they had not found anywhere to sleep. They could only see soft outlines of each other through the damp sea mist, and it was uncannily silent. There were none of the small sounds that liven up the evening on land: the pattering of small animal feet, leaves moving in the night breeze, the cry of a bird, of a stone dislodged by someone's foot.
A fire would never draw on that damp ground, and they dared not sleep amongst the unknown dangers that might be lurking about, so in the end they decided to pitch camp on a high pointed rock, which they could just reach by their stilts. They had to keep watch, so Moomintroll took the first and decided to take the Snork maiden's too, and while the others curled up tightly together and slept, he sat staring out over the desolate sea bottom. It was lit by the red glow of the comet, and shadows like black velvet lay across the sand.
Moomintroll thought how frightened the earth must be feeling with that great ball of fire coming nearer and nearer to her. Then he thought about how much he loved everything; the forest and the sea, the rain and the wind, the sunshine, the grass and the moss, and how impossible it would be to live without them all, and this made him feel very, very sad. But after a while he stopped worrying.
"Mamma will know what to do," he said to himself.
I love how the simplicity of the language in the penultimate paragraph reflects the simplicity of the sentiment: it's simple things which make life worth living, and dressing those simple things up in more flowery language detracts from their worth (it puts me in mind of the haiku of writers like Han-shan). I also like the description of the shell: a little sentimental, maybe, but hinting at our ambivalent relationship with the sea: the myth of the siren, our endless longing for the sea, but ultimately how unfathomable and dangerous it is.
The sequels apparently become darker in tone, though remaining life-affirming. I'll definitely be getting hold of them and reading them with my daughter.
Mise-en-abîme ("placing into infinity or "placing into the abyss", see Wikipedia) has always fascinated me. I suppose it started with the Quaker Oats man (who I'm sure I've mentioned here before):

(from http://www.scripophily.com/)
Though I remember this image more vividly, and with reds, and I think from my childhood. Notice how he's holding a box with another Quaker Oats man just like him on it, and he's holding a box, ad infinitum.
The laughing cow is another food-related one (see http://lunettesrouges.blog.lemonde.fr/files/2007/10/mise-en-abyme.119332...).
Also popular in the visual arts (Dali's La Guerre, see http://www.ecriture-art.com/art/dalilaguerre.jpg).
And literature (the play within a play of Hamlet, footnotes to a poem in Pale Fire which actually constitute the narrative etc.). And film (Synecdoche, New York is probably the best example, but it also happens in Adaptation and more recently in Inception: dreams within dreams, reflecting and influencing each other).
And obviously in nature and mathematics we have fractals. And in computer science recursive functions. And so on...
So, quite interesting, occasionally mind bending.
I wondered whether I could extend this idea to web servers: could a web server present a page; and on that page, a link which would start another web server and load a page from it; the latter page being embedded in the first page, and also presenting a link which would start another web server then load a page from it; ad infinitum...
So I wrote such a thing in Ruby. It's attached to this blog entry. Here's a screenshot:

It could carry on until the resources of the computer ran out (here I started 19 web servers). It uses jQuery to load the content from the next web server into an iframe inside the current page. You need rack, backports, and mongrel to run it.
Just for fun.
Continuing my "end of year round up", I like to compile a list of favourite music for the year. Here is my list of top tracks for 2010.
My favourite artists of the year in order (pretty much identical to last year's, probably; at least I'm consistent):
1. Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark - I went to see them live for the first time this year (enjoyable, though Andy McCluskey's dancing is off-putting); I should mention that I pretty much hate their music after The Pacific Age, so the fact they're my number one band is based on about half of their output.
2. The Fall - I got Your Future, Our Clutter for my birthday, which I really enjoyed
3. The Divine Comedy - very middle class, yes; the latest album Bang Goes the Knighthood came out this year, which I thought was one of their best for ages
4. Autechre - a new album and EP this year; both very good
5. Hot Chip - a recent addition to my taste; this year I bought The Warning as well as their most recent album
6. Wire - of course
7. The Residents - probably largely because I use random play a lot, and I have practically everything they've ever recorded over the last 40 years
8. David Bowie - the man
9. Cocteau Twins - I remembered I had a CD of Victorialand (a tape copy of this was the first album I bought when I was about 16) which I'd neglected to rip, and then proceeded to rip it and listened to nothing else for about a week
10. The The - everyone feels maudlin now and then
Others which don't appear in this list but I listened to quite a lot: Tortoise, Future Sound of London, Joanna Newsom, Flying Lotus, Stereolab, Super Furry Animals. It's not a radical list, is it? In fact, I was listening to most of those artists 20 years ago. Must be getting old.
I went to see OMD, Silver Apples and Heaven 17 (they were surprisingly good) live this year: 3 bands in one year is probably the most I've managed since the children were born. I'm going to try to see some more next year (starting with Seefeel in May).
Last year I did pretty poorly on reading books, so this year I made an effort to read much more. I managed 62 books this year: the first year where I've read at least a book a week. My reading rate dropped off just before Christmas, due to the lure of new DVDs and the minor improvement to TV schedules around Christmas. But I will get back to reading more regularly this year.
Here's the list (for completists and myself only); the ones with asterisks are considered "classics" in the SF/fantasy fields (one of my personal goals this year was to get better acquainted with the classics in these fields); the ones in bold are the ones I really rate:
This year I plan to read more Jack Vance, Michael Moorcock and Jonathan Carroll, as well as more of the "classics", particularly older works of The Fantastic I have on my Kindle (stuff like Charles Williams, H. Rider Haggard, G.K. Chesterton, Arthur Machen, Lord Dunsany, George MacDonald).
I've also been attempting to put together some ideas for short stories, or maybe even interactive fiction. Something might come of that too. Probably not, though.
I'm working my way down to a single hosting company (currently I have a Dreamhost account and a Site5 account; I'm getting rid of the Dreamhost account, not because it's worse, but because I've got this blog on Site5 and it's more complicated to move).
I'm also expiring some of my domains (flickrlilli.org.uk among them), closing down various svn front-ends I had setup (I just use github or gitorious in future), and pointing all my DNS entries to one place with one set of contact details.
And I've closed down advertising on my site, as I'm effectively shutting down my moochlabs business for the time being. It made me a bit sad to close down http://moochlabs.com/; but, really, I'm not interested in any work outside my day job at the moment.
I also need to move my network backups somewhere. Can anyone suggest a good, Linux-friendly backup solution? A few years ago the options were limited, but I'm guessing things have improved since.
I am also thinking of closing down one of my many email accounts (my moochlabs one) which still gets quite a bit of mail. Need to do some unsubscribing there, too.
Need to simplify...
I keep thinking about writing something here, but the problem is once I get started, that's a whole evening gone, waffling.
In particular, I've been thinking about books a lot. So here are some book-related nuggets. It all goes a bit Victor Meldrew by the end, I warn you now.
I recently read Vernor Vinge's A Fire Upon the Deep alongside Alastair Reynolds' House of Suns. Both are galaxy-spanning space opera, both full of artificial intelligences, alien races, and dogfights in space. Both highly entertaining. But Vinge's book was written about 20 years before Reynolds', and it's pretty obvious Reynolds is a big fan of Vinge. Not to the point of copying, but the plotlines of both share similarities (humans caught up in a battle involving AI systems/races which have reached god-like power). And Vinge is a much, much better writer: his characters are more sympathetic, his scenery more memorable, his aliens more interesting, and his narrative pace tighter and more dramatic. So if you want some space opera, I'd go for Vinge first, and Reynolds second.
I might read Jack Vance soon, as a brief look at one of his books (The Star King) suggests Vinge was inspired by his work (e.g. both use the term The Beyond to refer to the far reaches of the galaxy)...
I visited Hay on Wye with my family for a couple of days last week. We've made this an annual pilgrimage, as we all love going there so much. I found a lot of good books; in particular, Richard Booth's bookshop was a fantastic source of unusual sf: see the town shop catalogue and castle bookshop catalogue for a fraction of the stock.
I ended up buying:
Each book cost me £2 to £2.50: cheaper than Amazon marketplace, but not as cheap as I would have liked. I think I'm lucky because sf books are still in a bit of a ghetto; other types of paperback seem a bit overpriced (a symptom of the tourist popularity of the place). I love going there, but my best finds are still when I get hold of an unusual 1960s/1970s paperback for 30p in a small charity shop.
My tactic when visiting is to make a list of specific books to look for: we have about 3-4 hours browsing time, and there are just too many books to look at all of them. On this occasion, I was aiming to find a few "classics" (Moore, Varley, Pangborn, Shaw), interesting books by authors I've recently discovered (Vernor Vinge, Michael Bishop), and books by authors I always look out for (Malzberg - often tricky to find, as I'm not sure all his books made it to publication in Europe). I had a list of about 50 authors/books, but passed up on a few I found because the book wasn't in particularly good condition, or it didn't look so good in the flesh, or were too expensive.
Madeleine chose 17 books (we had to limit her to 1 or 2 per shop, as she kept gathering piles of half a dozen or more - children's books are reasonably priced, though the Children's Bookshop is a rip-off with common paperbacks at £3); Joel got 4 picture books (he mainly wanted to walk around the shops, rather than look at books); and Nicola got about 5 (her favourite shop there is Murder and Mayhem).
Anyhow, now I've got so many great books to read, I don't know where to start.
Bookmooch is a great little site: basically you list books you want to give away, and books you'd like to acquire. Each time you give a book away, you get points; each time you acquire a book, you spend points (so no money changes hands). You get 3 points for sending abroad, 1 point for sending to your own country; asking for a book from your own country costs 1 point; asking for a book internationally costs 2 points. I've exchanged quite a few books on there. But a few recent experiences have soured it for me:
All in all, while it worked out well for a while and I got some good books out of it, I'd actually rather spend £3 on Amazon to get the books I want, rather than go through the hassle of using bookmooch. Shame. I'll leave my wishlist on there, but I'm not going to put anything in my inventory for the time being.
I'm almost exclusively working on the Clutter cookbook at the moment, and I keep meaning to write about what it's like to spend your time writing. I'm not sure what's driving this need to explain myself. I think it's partly because I feel a bit unproductive at times, despite working pretty hard, and I feel like I need to understand why.
Perhaps if I explain the pattern of my work week. It goes something like this:
git rebase -i) to make the development history less convoluted.It's the blockages which frustrate and shame me. I wish they didn't happen (they are pretty depressing too), but I think they might actually be an essential part of the "creative process". The miracle of copy-editing makes up for it :).
I released this track a couple of weeks ago, but no one has listened to it yet at http://spilltwins.bandcamp.com/. Given that I think it's my best track, I'm going to put it here (last time I did this, quite a few people did listen to the track). Otherwise all my artistic endeavours will go to waste...
There's also this one, which was slightly less successful, but has its moments:
I resist upgrading my work machine as much as possible, as whenever I do, everything I rely on stops working properly. A few notes on my particular pains this time round as I upgraded to Fedora Core (FC) 13:
sudo, so I uncommented this line in /etc/sudoers:%wheel ALL=(ALL) ALLusermod -G wheel -a ellsudo rpm -ivh http://download1.rpmfusion.org/free/fedora/rpmfusion-free-release-stable.noarch.rpmsudo yum install gstreamer-plugins-bad gstreamer-ffmpeg gstreamer-plugins-ugly -ysudo yum install java-1.6.0-openjdk-pluginsudo yum install wget gitmkdir ~/.gnome2/gedit/plugins/cd ~/.gnome2/gedit/plugins/wget http://users.tkk.fi/~otsaloma/gedit/trailsave.pywget http://users.tkk.fi/~otsaloma/gedit/trailsave.gedit-pluginSo what's improved in FC13? Erm...
That's about it. (My main reason for upgrading is so I can more easily build other people's software, rather than for application upgrades.)
There would probably be more if I wasn't so old fashioned about the applications I use...