Anders Monsen

Lost worlds and ports of call

Page 8 of 81

Dune through the mists of time

I’m fairly certain I’ve read Frank Herbert’s novel, Dune. I own a battered paperback copy of the book, bought many years ago. Certain passages in the book are underlined or highlighted, and many words in the detailed terminology appendix are circled. Still, that may or may not be not be my handwriting; there’s a phone number scribbled on the last page, an 800 number with no explanation, and that’s not in my crabbed handwriting, so who knows.

I really wanted to watch the latest movie adaptation of the novel, as the previews looked fantastic. But, timing failed me, or maybe it was the fact that no one else in my immediate family seemed eager to head to the movie theaters to watch it; we tend to make the movies these days an occasion, and for some reason Dune didn’t make the cut.

Dune is on my mind lately, though, because of the movie. I do remember watching the David Lynch adaptation, many years ago, and thought it was too comedic. Setting aside the multiple appendixes, the book clocks in at nearly 500 pages. I’ve not read any of the sequels, of that I’m sure. And yet, if I did read the book, not much of it stuck with me. Supposedly it’s a notable book, one of the major achievements of science fiction. And yet, neither this book nor the series appealed to me, and I can’t remember reading anything else by this writer.

Herbert was friends with Jack Vance and Poul Anderson, and I’ve read far more of their books than Herbert’s books. Yet, for some reason, Dune gets more press than either of those two authors combined. Surely he wrote other stories, and not just books set in this series?

Jack Vance has authored far better stories than anything by Frank Herbert, but maybe they’re not as cinematic. Regardless, I wonder whether it’s worth my time to re-read the novel, and if I do re-read it, whether I’ll remember anything about it two or three years from now? As far as Jack Vance, I remember many details of his stories and novels. Then again, I’ve read them multiple times.

As far as the book goes, when I do think of it, I tend to remember scenes from the earlier movie, and not passages from the book. I find that somewhat annoying, but maybe that speaks more to the lack of excitement the book provided, or the visuals (however unintentionally funny they came across) from the Lynch movie. Dune likely is not a book I’ll ever re-read, not any of the sequels. Still, the previews looked good, and maybe I’ll get a chance to watch the sequel on the big screen.

The Book of Boba Fett, Chapter 7

And so this show comes to an end. Maybe it’s the end of the season, maybe it’s the end of the show. It was a strange show, ostensibly about Boba Fett the great bounty hunter. At times it wasn’t about Boba Fett, and rarely (if ever) was it about bounty hunting. It was a show about what might have happened to Boba Fett after his so-called death in Star Wars: Return of the Jedi. For the fans (and the accountants at Disney) would never let Boba Fett die. Star Wars is a money-making machine, and every facet must be mined for lucre.

Writing this a few weeks after I watched the show seems weird. I enjoyed parts of it, but other parts seemed like it really didn’t fit. This was the battle-episode, with Fett’s forces fighting the Pykes (and everyone else, for many of his supposed neutral allies turned on him).

I won’t rehash the events of the episode, but things seemed to work out in the end. There seems nowhere for the second season to go, as the premise, with Fett taking over Jabba’s empire, is a closed-off premise, unlike The Mandalorian and other Star Wars shows, which can travel anywhere. If this was the show that brought back Boba Fett, I can’t say it did him credit. I think part of the problem is that he originally was an antagonist, and the folks at Disney tried their hardest to make him a likable character. There are few antiheroes that work—Dirty Harry, Eastwood’s The Man with No Name, the Mandalorian, maybe a handful others. Boba Fett did not work as such a character. Still, it was good to see more of the Star Wars universe, and only a minimal amount of Skywalker.

The Curious Mrs. Maisel

I enjoyed the first season of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, released on Amazon Prime back in 2017. The episodic tale of a late 1950s Jewish housewife turned comedian was fresh and funny, for the most part. It had promise, almost like a modern version of Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House. It would have worked as just a single season. But, success spawns sequels, or, in this case, additional seasons, as the show is around episodes long per season.

Sometimes sequels work. Sometimes they subvert and destroy the original material. In this case, the second season actually brought a freshness beyond the first. It introduced new characters new locales, and remained funny. However, the writers seemed unable to let go of the main character’s relationship with her cheating husband. This did not bode well for a third season, for it would seem that the creators didn’t give Mrs. Maisel enough credit to stand on her own.

True to expectations, this relationship issue was part of the downfall of season three. The show also telegraphed miserable decisions by multiple characters, as well as political viewpoints from the 21st century imposed on the 1950s, and I stopped watching the show after the third episode; I caught up on the plot by reading reviews and recaps, which confirmed what I anticipated. The ending was grim, a drastic fall from grace that deflated the very promise of seasons one and two.

I didn’t plan on watching season four, released in February 2022. Reluctantly, I read a brief recap, and it didn’t see too bad. Only two episodes had been released at that time, and I went ahead and watched them both. The misery of the last season has certainly left its traces, but there’s a bit of hope left in the show. I’m not sure what the writers have planned for the season of the season, or the final fifth season. I suspect Mrs. Maisel will return to her husband permanently at some point, thus defeating the very premise of the show.

What makes the show somewhat funny comes down to the characters. Mrs. Maisel, aka Midge, aka Miriam, has her moments. Her mother is annoying, her father unintentionally funny, her husband (or ex-husband), a strange jerk, her in-laws are definite jerks, her best friend is funny in an axe-sharpened way, her manager strange, and there’s an entire array of other characters who are brilliantly written and brilliantly cast.

What makes it unfunny really is her comedic act, and the seeming lack of purpose in her life. She changes gears from perfect housewife to so-called comedian (although she just riffs on views about men/women and religion) at will. She wants to be famous, yet torpedoes her own career. She has a terrible manager, and neither of them have any idea of how to manage money. She floats through life, a privileged life. Her New York is a fantasy. Her whole world is a fantasy.

The show has been renewed for a fifth and final season. This, in a way, is a good thing. Having it continue past it’s use-by date would be a disservice. One can only hope that there remaining episodes of season four shows her the path to success, either professionally or personally, and that it doesn’t end with her wedding her ex-ex-husband for the third time.

Bill Bryson’s Hate Letter to America

A while ago I became fascinated with the Appalachian Trail. I watched documentaries, read blogs and books, including a humorous one by Bill Bryson called A Walk in the Woods; I even watched the movie based on the book (a disappointing, but truly Hollywood-glossed yet tiresome affair).

I wasn’t on the lookout for other Bryson books, but recently I picked up and read The Lost Continent. I slogged through this hate letter to America, trying to find some redeeming value within its pages, but came away empty. There’s so much bile in this book, and I’m sure Bryson meant every nasty word, from personal attacks to snarky comments on road, cities, states, and the various people who inhabited them.

The sub-title of the book is “Travels in Small-Town America.” It’s based on two road trips he took in the autumn of 1987 and spring 1988, totaling 13,978 miles. He covered most of the states in the lower continental US, or at least parts of them. He had mostly nothing good to say about any of those states, or any of the places he visited. Every historical monument is a tourist trap, a bad marriage of run-down buildings, surrounded by gewgaw sellers, and the entrance fees exorbitant.

Although the book makes me want to take a similar type of road trip, driving through multiple states, I’m not sure of the best use of such a plan. A possibility might be a National Parks road trip, trying to see all the National Parks in the US in one go. I’m sure someone has mapped out the most efficient route, if not the most efficient time of year and place to start. Some National Parks require watercraft, or maybe air, to visit, but most are drivable. There are some tricky logistics, such as dealing with crowds in the most popular attractions, and the range of weather from Florida to Alaska. Having only been to four National Parks in the US, and only ones on Texas, New Mexico, and Utah, such a road trip would be epic, a 20,000+ mile voyage spanning many months.

I’ve done a few road trips in my time, mostly in Texas and New Mexico, although a few miles here and there in Colorado and California; the US is a vast continent. There are massive cities, concrete jungles where you take your life in your own hands in one area, and see marvels of human ingenuity a few blocks away. There are pockets of darkness in the wilderness I wouldn’t dare venture, remote areas where you need to weigh your car of choice and your accent carefully. America is like multiple alien worlds in one continuous place. Some of that feeling might be perception from reading books or watching movies.

I’ve visited quite a few places of note, and yes they charge entrance fees. You can’t expect to walk into the Hemingway House in Key West without forking over a few bucks. Not all places can exist solely with the help of unpaid volunteers catering to Bryson’s whims and feelings about walking through someone’s former house as if he was an invited guest.

As for Bryson’s trip, he must surely know that it’s not a uniquely American feature for people to set up shop near places that many people visit. Is that ideal? Maybe not, but it’s the same in virtually every corner of the world. I’m sure there were people in the Red Square during the heyday of the USSR who tried to offload an item or two when people came to visit. I’ve seen the same in many countries in Africa, as well as Norway, England, and other European locales. As a former Norwegian, I sometimes feel sad when walking through Bergen and seeing so many shops and places catering to tourists by selling overpriced crap. The fish market in Bergen used to be a fun place to visit, but not so much any more. The top of Fløien has expanded the viewing area to a point I no longer recognize it. Yet, walk a few hundred meters further, and you’re in forest. Walk the streets of the city away from the harbor, and you find regular shops. It’s the same in the US; step outside the core area of concentrated tourist spots and you still find genuine people and places.

Why Bryson hates his home country so much, one can only wonder, unless it was a gimmick to sell his book. “Look, ” one can image he said to his publisher, “I know Steinbeck wrote a travel book, a glowing paean to America. I want to do the opposite. I’ll do a road trip, and at every stop I’ll rip into everything I see. It will sell millions, just on my name alone. Also, people abroad hate America. This is a win-win proposition.”

And they went for it.

The Book of Boba Fett, Chapter 6

I’m somewhat tardy writing this, as chapter 7 appeared a few days ago, a full week after this one. Chapter 6 is another strange installment, in that the titular character appears only near the end, and contributes nearly nothing aside from a few words.

Instead, this episode continues from the previous one, with the Mandalorian off to bring his beskar gift to young Grogu, that terrible name for the Yoda-like creature he adopted in his own show. Grogu is currently training to be a Jedi under Luke Skywalker. First, however, the Mandalorian must cool his heels until someone can arrive to take him to Grogu. That emissary is none other than Ahsoka Tano. She’s on the same planet as Luke, though in her mind no longer a Jedi. We get a montage of Grogu’s Jedi training, and witness the Mandalorian’s pains as he’s unable to greet Grogu in person, but must leave his gift with Ahsoka. The Jedi, as we know, must foreswear all emotional ties to others, and the feeling is that if Greg sees the Mandalorian, this will taint or ruin his Jedi path. This lack of emotional ties goes against the Mandalorian creed, and seems to be the downfall of the Jedi time and time again. Why, also, does Ahsoka adhere to this view? Didn’t she see what happened to Anakin Skywalker, Luke’s father? At the end, Grogu is given a stark choice: return to the Mandalorian, or remain with Luke and train as a Jedi. We probably already know the answer, but that’s left for another episode.

The episode then concludes with Boba Fett’s forces preparing for war against the Pykes. Who will be on their side? How will they defeat this force? How will this not only end in the 7th episode, but what are the implications for potential other seasons, or even the Mandalorian?

Again, a somewhat strange episode, with the focus not on Boba Fett. It also witnessed the arrival of a Clone Wars character (the animated show), another bounty hunter called Cad Bane. I didn’t watch too many Clone Wars episodes, and Bane seems such an affected character. It’s strange how these characters just never die, but keep popping up decades later, almost merely as a fan service. But isn’t that what The Book of Boba Fett is all about? Fan service. For why else resurrect a character that supposedly died back in 1983 or so?

Robert McCammon’s King of Shadows

Well, hell. Robert McCammon’s latest novel, the eighth in the Matthew Corbett series, is due to be published in 2022. That’s the good news. The bad news is that the hardcover is a deluxe limited by a new press, Lividian Publications. I’m not sure why there are multiple publishers in the series, from Subterranean Press (who publishes most of them) to Cemetery Dance (only one). I like the books in hardcover, but I don’t mind a trade edition. A deluxe limited with a slipcase will probably just cost too much for me to care, and as the book is over 700 pages long, the next edition (paperback) will take a while and just look wrong on my bookshelf. After catching up with all the novels, this may just mean that I skip the next two.

The Book of Boba Fett, Chapter 5

Note: This is more of a summary for myself, so anyone reading this who cares about spoilers: stop now.

This was a strange episode of The Book of Boba Fett, as the titular character didn’t even show ups aside from being name-checked at the end. Instead, it was all about Din Djarin, aka The Mandalorian, who so far has appeared in two seasons of his own show.

At the close of season 2 of The Mandalorian, Din Djarin had completed his mission. He had delivered Grogu, or Baby Yoda as some people still call him, to the Jedi—in this case, to Luke Skywalker (whose Jedi legacy the present regime in charge ruined in the most recent trilogy). He also had earned the Darksaber in battle, by defeating Moff Gideon, and thus thwarting Bo-Katan from reclaiming what once had been hers, though not properly earned.

The episode opens with the Mandalorian on a bounty hunt, where he wields the Darksaber and manages to burn himself as he’s not properly trained in its use. He secures some information, making this a side quest like many of the episodes in his own show, and with that information finds the surviving cohort of Mandalorians who he previously met. Only two remain from that original cohort: the armorer and a massive dude whose ancestor forged the Darksaber. While the armorer trains the Mandalorian in the use of the Darksaber, she finds him wanting almost immediately (apparently, they have not heard of practice makes perfects in the Star Wars world. Here it’s become a master at once or you’re a failure). Because of this, the other guy challenges Din Djarin, loses the battle, but after both being asked whether one has ever removed his helmet in front of others, Djarin is evicted from the cohort. It’s a question out of the blue, but maybe a traditional question after Mandalorian duels. Who knows.

Din Djarin then heads over to Tatooine, hoping his contact there has found him a replacement for the Razor Crest, his previous ship that Gideon’s crew destroyed. What follows is a strange montage as they assemble a Naboo starfighter, one not really suited to bounty hunting work. Shortly after a test flight, Boba Fett’s associate, Fennec Shand, shows up, hoping to hiring him as muscle for their war against the Pykes. Whether the Madalorian joins them or not remains to be seen, for he has another mission he first needs to complete.

Although a great episode, it didn’t do much to further the book of Boba Fett. Instead, it seems to set up season 3 of The Mandalorian. Where tat season goes remains to be seen, but one can speculate: Will he return to Mandalor? Will he try to rule that world, or find a way to pass along the Darksaber?

So far, The Mandalorian has been the best thing about the Star Wars universe since The Empire Strikes Back, which makes me wonder whether such magic happens only on rare occasions, and if so, why? I’d like to think that the no one knew how to bring the mystery of the rise of Darth Vader to life, or what the aftermath of the fall of the Empire would look like. But create a character in this universe like Clint Eastwood’s The Man with No Name, and you have magic on another level.

Derry Girls

I generally resist comedy shows. I find most comedic efforts strained; they tend to mug for the camera and are rife with canned laughs. There are small number of comedy TV shows I’ve liked: Seinfeld, MASH…Okay, I think that’s it. Where I’ve enjoyed comedy has been in unintended shows, small snippets. I did watch shows like Frasier and Cheers and Friends, The Big Bang Theory (well, it seems that I mostly stopped watching TV after the 1990s, I guess). Some of these had funny moments. Seinfeld had great characters, unique. The best shows have those types, more so than the series as a whole, you have great individual parts.

I’m sure a few years ago I caught a clip of the opening of Derry Girls and dismissed it as juvenile mugging. Yet somehow I watched a clip somewhere again this month, and it resulted in binging both seasons of the show on Netflix. Not only that, but I on occasion watch clips from the show just to keep the laughter fresh.

Derry Girls is a show about Northern Irish teenagers in Derry, set during the midst of the Troubles in the mid-1990s (a period that warrants its own Wikipedia entry and a capital T, the Troubles was a conflict between Protestant and Catholic, Irish and English, where thousands were killed and many more injured; it was not a good time). Rather than focusing on the Troubles, the show focuses on teenage who happened to live during those times. The actors in Derry Girls are older that the 15 and 16 year olds they portray, which lends them a skill far beyond people that same age. There are currently only two short seasons of Derry Girls, although a third and final season has completed production after a COVID-imposed delay.

There are five main teenage characters in Derry Girls, and one of them is a boy. Other teenage character appear, as well as adults (parents and other authority figures, for the most part). It’s through and through comedy, with tinges of realism such as the IRA, Orange marches, bombings, peace talks, rifts between Protestants and Catholics, and Irish and English. While I’ll never fully understand the two last parts, not being either Irish or English, or fully Protestant, I’ve always found myself deeply in love with most things Irish. Both my children bear names that trace back to Irish roots. I’ve been to Cork, albeit briefly (side note: I once found myself in a rough Cork pub bathroom, where I did my best Irish accent imitation in a discussion as I tried to extricate myself from a nasty stall). There’s Irish slang that required some research (boke, for example), and uniquely Irish traditions such as Rock the Boat at weddings. There’s also drugged scones, fish n chips, and a huge variety of shenanigans (if that isn’t an Irish word, it should be an Irish word).

In Derry Girls, the five main characters try to navigate teenage life in the 1990s. They’re in a strict Catholic girl’s school, though one of them is a boy. Each of the main characters are wildly different, from the artistic Erin, the somewhat on-the-spectrum cousin, Orla, the nervous (and lesbian) Clare, the booze/drug/boy/swearing Michelle. Then there’s the unfortunate English-born cousin of Michelle, James, who is dropped into the girls’ school because it’s supposedly safer. I guess one has to appreciate the Catholic-Irish hatred of the English to understand why.

As mentioned, I tend to stay away from comedies, but I found myself laughing quite often during Derry Girls. I wasn’t able to watch most of it without subtitles, though a few phrases skipped past me the first time (much better than when in Cork and I could don’t understand my taxi driver at all). The escapades of Michelle, with her constant raging at her cousin and her boy-crazy efforts, mixed in with her wild boozy side, seemed at times over the top, but looking back on my teenage years I do remember people like this (and this was not in Ireland). Then there’s Clare, the nervous, serious one; she has many funny moments. Orla seems a little spacey, in contrast to her more serious cousin, Erin, my favorite of the bunch. She tries too hard at everything, but has the best facial expressions. The main male character, James, an English actor, suffers throughout the series, but has the purest heart of the lot.

With the third and final season due out (maybe) in 2022, it will be interesting to see how they end this show. It’s a series that I almost wish never ends. I really wish it had more episodes, and I look forward to seeing when it comes out, as no doubt it will have many funny storylines. Derry Girls came out of nowhere (to me), and I didn’t expect to like it. This goes to show that surprises can be found anywhere and everywhere.

New Robin Guthrie music

It’s always a treat (to me at, at least) when Robin Guthrie releases new music. In a short span he’s released one album and three EPs.

The album, Pearldiving, and the EPs, Mockingbird Lane, Riviera, and Springtime, are a swirl of sounds. From Springtime the standout track is “All For Nothing,” a quiet, slowly building tune, reminiscent of his collaborations with Harold Budd. In contrast, on Riviera my favorite track is “Starfish Prime,” a heavier, more bass-laden sound. Meanwhile, on Mockingbird Lane, “My Courtesan,” is my pick. This is not to say the other songs aren’t great, but on each EP, if I were to pick my favorites, those would be the ones. But, as they say, de gustibus non disputandum set; individual tests vary.

Each EP comes with four songs, and though I cannot detect any themes therein, the album seems definitely melancholy. “The Amber Room,” closes the album, and I have played it numerous times. “Les Amourettes” is another standout track on the album. One can almost visualize slow waves wrapped around an anchored boat when listening to “Oustern,” or maybe that’s a strange image that came to my mind. All the tunes are atmospheric, quiet, a variety of instruments blended skillfully together. It’s been a long wait for new music from Guthrie, but well worth the wait.

The Book of Boba Fett, Chapter 4

After the disappointing third chapter in this Star Wars series on Disney+ (the House of Mouse taking over all avenues of entertainment), this latest installment is a refreshing return to action and adventure.

Once again we are thrust back into the past, as Boba Fett’s dreams in his Bacta Tank take us back into the recent past. He remembers how, in his quest for revenge (chapter 3), he stumbled across the dying Fennec Shand. Here we cross over into the timeline of that other Star Wars show, The Mandalorian, just prior to Fett retrieving his armor. Fett saves Fennec, his bounty hunter nature mellowed by his time with the Tusken tribe. We see Fennec modded to replace the dying organs from her gut-shot with tech that makes her part cyborg. Together they retrieve Fett’s ship, Slave I (although we can’t say that word any more), from deep within Jabba’s palace. One wonders how and why that ship is still there and operable after five years, and why there was a silly kitchen chase scene, but all that aside, there’s some cracking action. With his ship Fett can exact revenge, and does so both against the raiders who destroyed his tribe and the Sarlacc which tried to digest him.

We then return to the present, as Fett tries to bolster his standing with other criminal gangs against a bigger criminal gang, the Pykes. He manages to wrangle a non-aggression pact from the three other gangs on Tatooine, which means he needs more muscle. The episode ends with the strain of The Mandalorian, setting up a possible team-up. Who else will Fett recruit in his war against the Pykes? With three episodes left, it will be interesting to see where this goes. I doubt the clones from The Bad Batch are still around, though Omega could be alive. Any other clones would be ancient at this point, and I doubt other Mandalorians would join Fett against the Pykes. Still, the closing episodes might bleed into season three of The Mandalorian, or possibly other Star Wars shows. Hopefully any other shows will keep the Star Wars universe, but ditch the major characters from the movies; they’ve had their moment.

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