When books make a fashion statement

Recently, my good friends David Cranmer and Tracy K. reviewed Ray Bradbury’s Death is a Lonely Business on their blogs. The book got me thinking about books that were fashionable to read when I was young, rather halfway through college. It was cool to mention them, like dropping names of famous people you knew. These books set the benchmark for the quality of books you read, didn’t read or should read. They made a fashion statement.

I can recollect twelve such fascinating books.

01. Death is a Lonely Business by Ray Bradbury, 1985

02. The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner by Alan Sillitoe, 1985

03. Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut, 1969

04. The World According to Garp by John Irving, 1978

05. Catch-22 by Joseph Heller, 1961

06. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig, 1974

07. The History Man by Malcolm Bradbury, 1975

08. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, 1960

09. The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, 1951

10. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez, 1957

11. Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, 1957

12. The Last Temptation of Christ by Nikos Kazantzakis, 1951

I have not read the bottom four books yet. Each of these books has an attractive title and is considered a literary masterpiece, some intellectually entertaining and stimulating. Every one of them is worth reading and in some cases more than once. The stories are as unusual as their titles and written by some of the finest authors in the history of fiction. I have always liked the sound of all the twelve books. Stacked on a bookshelf, they’d really look good.

Which books were fashionable to read in your youth?

The Day Time Stopped Moving by Bradner Buckner, 1940

Another sf entry for Friday's Forgotten Books at Patti Abbott's blog Pattinase which is being hosted by Todd Mason at Sweet Freedom today.

All Dave Miller wanted to do was commit suicide in peace. He tried, but the things that happened after he'd pulled the trigger were all wrong. Like everyone standing around like statues. No St. Peter, no pearly gate, no pitchforks or halos. He might just as well have saved the bullet!

Dave Miller pushed with all 

his strength, but the girl was an 

unmovable as Gibraltar.

Imagine a scenario where everyone and everything has come to a standstill, where nothing is moving, where there is no trace of motion or emotion.

Imagine a place where people are in suspended animation, where fires burn without smoke, where doors don’t open, where liquids have turned solid, where pebbles can’t be kicked, where a blade of grass supports your weight.

Imagine a world where all life, animate and inanimate, is frozen like a statue.

Now imagine yourself in just such a place where you are the only living soul and yet you know you are not alone.

It is in this surreal and terrifying world that drugstore owner Dave Miller finds himself after he “commits” suicide to teach his wife, Helen, a lesson. 

October 1940

This short story by sf writer Bradner Buckner reminded me of a silly game we used to play as kids, where you pointed to a friend and blurted out, “Statue!,” and the friend would freeze where he was until you said “pass” and allowed him to get on with his life. After a while it got on everyone’s nerve.

Dave can’t say “pass” and bring the human statues back to life. Instead, his only hope is fellow survivor John Erickson, an elderly, half-bald, eccentric scientist whose experiment with a time machine has gone horribly wrong, and a friendly police dog called Major.

Like Greylorn by Keith Laumer, which I read and reviewed last week, this story was an easy read although Buckner offers a scientific explanation for the immobilised world as well as the working of the time machine known as impulsor. It all went over my head.

Erickson pursed his lips. We are somewhere partway across the space between present and past. We are living in an instant that can move neither forward nor back. You and I, Dave, and Major—and the Lord knows how many others the world over—have been thrust by my time impulsor onto a timeless beach of eternity. We have been caught in time's backwash. Castaways, you might say.”

The 1956 issue

The premise of the story, where time stands still, has been done before, in books, films, and television including, I believe, The Twilight Zone series.

The Day Time Stopped Moving can be described as science fiction, horror, and supernatural rolled into one. It’s a nice little story although I have no idea who Bradner Buckner is. I didn’t find anything on him online. The name could be a pseudonym for a famous sf writer. I leave it to you to enlighten me. The story appeared in Amazing Stories but there is some confusion over the year of publication, 1940 or 1956, so I have reproduced both the covers.

Illustration source: Project Gutenberg

Reading Habits #15: The bitter taste of my tablet

I didn’t see any movies over the long Diwali weekend, and regrettably, will have to skip today’s Overlooked Films at Todd Mason’s blog Sweet Freedom. But I’ll be heading over there to read other contributions.

© Wikimedia Commons

Meanwhile, my mind is troubled by something else—the grim possibility that I may have to use my tablet sparingly or not use it at all for some time. It all depends on how my fingers and hands behave, on the pain and the stiffness caused by holding the tablet in my left hand and using my right forefinger to flip apps and pages.

The tablet is sleek and it weighs a bit, which I realised only after my fingers started aching. The pain and stiffness goes away if I don't use the tablet for a while. That seldom happens. The lure of the tablet is too strong.

Doctors have a term for pain induced by prolonged use of gadgets and electronic devices like tablets, smartphones, and laptops—RSI or repetitive strain injury. They label everything, don’t they? Like jam bottles. They warn me that if I don’t take preventive action now, then I'm heading for chronic pain—in my hands and fingers due to my tablet and in my neck and back due to my laptop and desktop computer.

Apparently, placing your tablet, iPad or laptop on your lap is no solution for you are still holding the gadgets by your hand, using your fingers, and stretching your neck and back like an ostrich.

The last thing I want to do is carp about my carpal and replace my Samsung tablet with my doctor’s tablet.

So here’s what I plan to do: I’ll go back to reading my yellowed and dog-eared secondhand books. The current ratio is one physical book for four ebooks, which explains my stiff neck and fingers. I’ll try and reverse the order. That way I can keep the orthopaedic away and put off arthritis by a few more years.

But do I hear the ophthalmologist already knocking?

Smokers Corner: the old sentimental bookshop

This afternoon, I was to meet my wife for lunch near her office in South Bombay, not far from my own. Since I reached early I thought I’d visit an old book haunt nearby called Smokers Corner. I hadn’t been there in over two years. I was saddened by the state of one of the city’s oldest secondhand bookshops, located in the foyer of a five-storey building.

Suleiman Botawala, who founded Smokers Corner in 1959 and who also owned the building, passed away a few years ago. He was an old pro when it came to fiction. He knew his books and their authors as well as he knew his own date of birth, maybe even better. Journalists and artists frequented his shop. He was proud of the books he offered. A large part of my nineties collection came from Smokers Corner. He could spot a serious book reader from the book requests he got. The last time I met Suleiman, he lamented that the present generation did not read books. He was always busy tidying his shelves and replacing books. It was a reassuring sight. 

Now his family is running Smokers Corner but it’s no longer the same. The ‘bookish’ atmosphere is missing. There is no pattern to the books on display. Worse still, there is no one to talk books with. The place is managed by hired hands. I think a part of the books died with Suleiman Botawala.

The sight of empty bookshelves must be the reason why I didn’t feel like buying a first-edition illustrated hardback of The Ladies of Missalonghi (1987) by Australian writer Colleen McCullough, famously known for The Thorn Birds (1977). The book was in mint condition and cost Rs.50 (almost a dollar). On my way out I spotted a few good books, both paperbacks and hardbacks, and I might go back there someday, especially since I confirmed that the bookshop wasn't closing down.

Back in office I read about The Ladies of Missalonghi on the internet and instantly regretted not buying it. The novel, set in the small town of Byron in the Blue Mountains of Australia just before World War I, tells the story of Missy Wright and the Hurlingford family. It is said to resemble The Blue Castle (1926) by L.M. Montgomery. Since I have read neither, I can’t say anything. The cover art and the black-and-white illustrations inside are by artist Peter Chapman.

Next time I visit an old bookshop, I leave my sentiments behind.

Greylorn by Keith Laumer, 1968

A very readable and enjoyable sf novella for Friday’s Forgotten Books at Patti Abbott’s blog Pattinase.

“Giving me your opinions is one thing, Kramer,” I said. “Mutiny is another.”

My search for a variety of ebooks in the public domain often throws up delightful surprises. Greylorn (1968), an sf novella by prolific science fiction author Keith Laumer, is one of them. It is also the best sf tale I have read so far this year.

The title of the story refers to Lieutenant Commander Frederick Greylorn, a courageous and enterprising military officer in the World Government on earth.

The planet is crawling with a plague, called the Red Tide, which has devoured most of the landmass except North America and a strip of Western Europe, and all of the sea. The alien organism has developed resistance to chemical and biological weapons and is evolving rapidly and is increasingly making earth a toxic dump.

As humans face extinction, Greylorn convinces the governing council to allow him to set out on a space expedition to seek help from a distant colony known as Omega World. With no assistance coming from the other established colonies, contacting Omega is the only option left. There is just one problem: it has never been explored before.

Into this alien and uncharted space, Captain Greylorn commands his mighty armed spaceship, Galahad.

Greylorn knows the voyage is fraught with high risk. What he does not know is the impending mutiny on board, which tests all his skills and resources to the limit and reveals the strength of his character in the face of adversity.

The rest of the story tells us how the brave officer overcomes the mutiny almost single handedly, successfully deals with a hostile alien vessel, and returns to earth with his mission accomplished.

I liked Greylorn because it was easy to follow. There is very little technical jargon though the author shows his superior knowledge in that area, probably the result of his tenure in the USAF. The all-male story is packed with action as Greylorn and the mutineers move rapidly from one time zone to another, one scene of action to another. The narrative is taut and the writing is clear. 

Keith Laumer (1925-1993)
© Wikimedia Commons

ManyBooks, from where I downloaded this ebook, says, “In this story (Keith Laumer) displays the finesse, artistry and imagination of an old pro. Here is one of the tightest, tautest stories of interplanetary adventure in a long while.” I agree with this assessment.

American author Keith Laumer has been described as “one of the best hardcore science fiction writers of all time, the master of time travel and alternate worlds” on the website dedicated to his memory. He is known for his Bolo and Retief series as well as time and space travel and alternate-world adventures like The Other Side of Time, A Trace of Memory, The Time Bender, The Long Twilight, Time Trap, Dinosaur Beach, and The Infinite Cage.

You can read more about the author here.

Morgan Freeman

If there is an actor whose mere on-screen persona is enough to make him likeable as an actor, it is Morgan Freeman. He puts you at ease instantly with his calm exterior, steady gaze, reassuring smile, deadpan humour, unfazed attitude, and deep voice. You can change the order of his filmic qualities if you like but that won’t alter his dignified demeanour. His contemporaries, Anthony Hopkins and Gene Hackman, have a similar bearing but they also have their own distinct qualities.

While I’m no authority on the 6' 2" actor from Memphis, Tennessee, I have enjoyed every film of his that I have watched. Many remain to be seen considering that he has been around since the mid-sixties, a very long time for one who first noticed him in Glory (1989), that too a few years after it was released. 

Last evening, I was watching Along Came a Spider (2001) by Lee Tamahori (Die Another Day) and what struck me about his role was that he wasn't playing equal or second fiddle to anyone. He was actually playing the sole lead as Dr. Alex Cross, homicide detective and profiler of criminals, a role he previously essayed in Kiss the Girls (1997). Both the films are based on novels by James Patterson.

I admit that I haven’t seen him in too many lead roles, not even as Nelson Mandela in Invictus (2009), so you’ll have to fill the gaps there.

Freeman is really on top of his game in Along Came a Spider where he is unintentionally dragged into a case involving the kidnapping of a US senator’s young daughter. As a detective who has just lost his partner, Freeman’s character is clever and cunning and almost always one step ahead of the kidnapper, providing vital clues and breakthroughs to both the FBI and the Secret Service who are eating out of his hands. In the end Freeman, dressed up in a long coat, a tie, and a fedora, shoots the mastermind with a shotgun. I thought he’d make a very good old-world gangster.

In most of his films that I have seen, however, Freeman is standing shoulder to shoulder, or a tad behind, his equally famous contemporaries, be it Matthew Broderick and Denzel Washington in Glory (1989), Kevin Costner in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991), Clint Eastwood in Unforgiven (1992), Tim Robbins in The Shawshank Redemption (1994), Anthony Hopkins in Amistad (1997), Gene Hackman in Under Suspicion (2000), Jim Carrey in Bruce Almighty (2003), Clint Eastwood in Million Dollar Baby (2004), Michael Caine in Batman Begins (2005), Jack Nicholson in The Bucket List (2007) or Michael Caine and Mark Ruffalo in Now You See Me (2013).

I think he has no issues, ego issues really, being in the shadow of other actors. He has been quoted as saying, “Once you've gotten the job, there's nothing to it. If you're an actor, you're an actor. Doing it is not the hard part. The hard part is getting to do it.” If he likes a particular role, he accepts it and acts it out, and I believe he doesn’t ask too many questions.

Morgan Freeman’s cinematic success, aside from his popularity with his female co-stars like Jessica Tandy, Ashley Judd, and Hilary Swank, lies in his capacity to do any role he thinks is right for him, and he does it with conviction. I have a theory that Freeman knows he doesn’t have to play sole lead every time because he is so good at what he does even in multi-star cast films that people frequently mention his part before that of his co-actors. I think that's a fine tribute to a terrific actor.

What do you like about Morgan Freeman and which of  his films do you like the most?

Diwali: the triumph of good over evil

Diwali or Deepavali—the festival of lights—is a very popular Hindu festival. It is celebrated in the autumnal months of October and November. The dates of the festival are decided by the Hindu Lunisolar calendar, or the new moon night known as Kartika, named after Kartikeya, the Hindu god of war and the supreme commander of the army of the devas, or the pantheon of Hindu gods. Sometimes I wonder if all the gods from the Hindu, Greek, Roman, and Norse mythology, among others, aren't really one and the same with only different names and nationalities.

© Wikimedia Commons

This year Diwali will be celebrated across the country from November October 23 to 26 when most government and private offices, including mine, are closed. Schools and colleges have Diwali holidays for up to three weeks.

The festival is an auspicious period and is a harbinger of good tidings. Spiritually, Diwali signifies four triumphs—light over darkness, knowledge over ignorance, good over evil, and hope over despair. It is also a period of joy, gaiety, and laughter.

“Diwa” or “Deep” means light. Thus, Diwali or Deepavali is traditionally marked by the lighting of earthen lamps, lit with cotton wicks dipped in oil, and putting up colourful lanterns and strings of small twinkling lights. The earthen lamps are usually placed outside the house, on either side of the main door, as well as in balconies and porches, and on window sills. These are lit after sundown. Some people draw beautiful rangoli on the floor of their living room or courtyard. Rangoli is an ancient folk art that is created by using coloured rice and sand or flower petals. 

Rangoli on the floor.
© www.pl.wikipedia.org

Days and weeks before Diwali, people clean up their homes and many renovate them with a fresh coat of paint and a new set of curtains. Families go shopping, for new clothes and jewellery, which is worn on the first day of the festival. Diwali starts with the worship of Lakshmi, the Hindu goddess of wealth and prosperity. At twilight, the main door is kept ajar so that the goddess enters the home and blesses its residents with an abundance of health and happiness. The shrine and doorways are decked with garlands of marigold, yellow and orange. Traders and businessmen worship their books of account. Diwali is also about feasting, particularly on traditional sweets like mithai and ladoos, exchanging gifts, firing crackers, and visiting relatives and friends.

My family rings in Diwali with prayers, lights, and sweets every year. I also have fond childhood memories of the festival. My grandparents used to wake us up just before sunrise and we used to apply loban on our hands and faces before bathing, wear new clothes, say our prayers, light earthen lamps, greet each other, and gorge on homemade sweets. Loban is a fragrant paste made from the gum benjamin tree, or styrax benzoin, as it is scientifically known. I can still smell the incense.

Diwali is a beautiful and colourful festival but over past several years its beauty and colour has degenerated into noise and pollution, thanks to the indiscriminate firing of crackers by insensitive people who couldn’t care less about pets and the elderly. Although awareness about green and noise-free Diwali is growing every year, Indians are still far away from understanding its true essence—that it is primarily a festival of lights and colour, and spreading joy.

For the next seven days, my pet dog, a cross between a stray and a Doberman, will be so terrified of the firecrackers that she will refuse to eat or come out from her secure place under the bed. I can imagine the plight of stray dogs on the streets. For this reason alone I no longer look forward to Diwali.

But that won’t stop me from wishing all my blog friends and visitors to this blog, a very Happy Diwali and Prosperous New Year!