I listened to the BBC adaptations of Timberlake Wertenbaker's translation of Sophocles' Theban plays, presented in 'internal chronological' order - i.I listened to the BBC adaptations of Timberlake Wertenbaker's translation of Sophocles' Theban plays, presented in 'internal chronological' order - i.e., Oedipus the King, Oedipus at Colonus, and Antigone. No attempt appears to have been made to erase the inconsistencies as if these pays were a trilogy beyond the ordering; I don't know that it necessarily changes much to put Antigone first, except to understand that yes, it does appear that Sophocles nods back to the previously performed plays in Oedipus at Colonus even if they are not part of a set.
I've listened to two versions of Oedipus the King this year and it still astonishes me just how good this play is. I don't know that I have much to add to my earlier review except that this play stands up across every translation I have read. I wish I had the Greek and the time to read it in the original.
Conversely, I had never read, watched, or listened to Oedipus at Colonus until I listened to this version. Coming off a second dose of Oedipus the King, I really appreciated Oedipus' righteous anger in this one; now that I have also listened to Antigone, I see it is a family trait. This story is the death that Oedipus deserves - angry, and inflicting that anger on those who offend him, but also special, revered as one whose errors were caused by circumstances beyond his control. In contrast, I felt that Polynikes choses his own fate - is this an intentional contrast? I feel it must be.
As I get older, I admire Antigone more and more, but I come to accept that I am more of an Ismene. Perhaps the most powerful of the three plays, Antigone has an anger to it that feels youthful, but necessary. A reminder that passion matters, that action is essential against tyranny, even if it results in death. Like her father, Antigone's actions are determined by those with power playing games, but unlike the gods who punished Oedipus Creon is mortal and can be defied. Did Sophocles mean to be so critical of the absolute power of the state? I don't know, and I am not always sure that this play must be used for good, but certainly we need to remember that the laws of states are not immutable, and even those of us who do not believe in any gods can respect that morality and justice are not defined by nor the sole purview of the legal system....more
The Truth is a Discworld novel that plays with an ambiguity: the necessity and the absurdity of journalism. Listening to it for the first time in yearThe Truth is a Discworld novel that plays with an ambiguity: the necessity and the absurdity of journalism. Listening to it for the first time in years, it's fun to think about how this ambivalence is presumably based on Terry Pratchett's experience with journalism - knowing that it is essential while also understanding that what keeps the newspaper industry going is not the part that's necessary. It's also good to see the Watch from the perspective of a book that's not their own - showing that the police can't do everything, that they can be trouble (but also that they can be accountable in a way that newspapers are not, inherently). It's also a relic of a time when print journalism was more significant than the instantaneous thrills and deep deception of online 'news'.
I mostly really liked Matthew Baynton as a narrator. It leaves me with the sense that he is an actor who could do a great job at a number of self-serious Discworld characters if there is the continued feeling that adapting them to the screen is somehow necessary....more
I realised fairly quickly after I started listening to this collection that it would be too dense an academic work to truly get my teeth into aurally.I realised fairly quickly after I started listening to this collection that it would be too dense an academic work to truly get my teeth into aurally. Thus, I listened to it fairly quickly making a few notes and got hold of the physical book to chew on more thoroughly in the future. There are certainly interesting stories and concepts here - I was especially interested in Paul Barber's chapter 'Forensic Pathology and the European Vampire', but the older papers that retold a variety of folk stories were also fascinating. I'm looking forward to diving deeper with the physical book, which includes a chapter and several short introductions by Dundes that are not included in the audiobook....more
Thud! is among the Discworld books that I'd only read once before, and one I had not remembered fondly. Starting to listen fairly soon after Pyramids,Thud! is among the Discworld books that I'd only read once before, and one I had not remembered fondly. Starting to listen fairly soon after Pyramids, which reminded me how much I liked the early, less formed Discworld novels, did make for an awkward juxtaposition - it took me a while to get back into it. But it is far better than I had remembered. I had remembered it being a quite weak parody of a popular novel of the time of it's release; twenty years later that novel is but a memory and this one remains standing.
Like most of the later Watch novels, it's political, in more than one way. Perhaps a less examined way is how it presents policing: there's the idea of the Watchman, who guards the guards, which I wish had been a bigger part of the novel (although I'm not sure how); there's the concept that the race of a cop is 'cop', but presented positively; there's some sense of the necessity of policing - but through pretty convoluted crimes. In a more stand out way, it's about the absurdity of conflict, about how people will always seek a way to fight if it suits their purposes - denying the evidence where necessary. I'm not sure I like this version of that story as much as I like Jingo, but it is still PTerry at his most insightful....more
I listened to the audiobook, read by the translator, on a July evening while I was cooking a lasagna. It remains a wonderful, fun poem. The way that tI listened to the audiobook, read by the translator, on a July evening while I was cooking a lasagna. It remains a wonderful, fun poem. The way that the Owl and the Nightingale keep on trying to 'win' their game by coming back at one another with new defences and vitriol at one another is wonderful. Completely recommended....more
It's often weird to go back to the first novel of a long series and see how the characters and/or world seems when it's unformed. In the case of KnotsIt's often weird to go back to the first novel of a long series and see how the characters and/or world seems when it's unformed. In the case of Knots and Crosses, it's especially weird because it's pretty clear that (view spoiler)[we're supposed to believe that Rebus could be the killer (hide spoiler)]. That Ian Rankin thought he was writing literary fiction rather than in the crime genre seems clear to me, but perhaps only because I know that - this is clearly a novel in its own right; quite a Manichean novel, in a way, because it's about the dark underbelly of things unseen, especially the city of Edinburgh itself.
For me, though, I think Knots and Crosses works better as a crime novel than a literary one. There's plenty of evidence to lead us to the criminal, suspicion is cast in several places, there are puzzles we might figure out ourselves, perhaps. There's interesting stuff on the literary side: the mirroring of John Rebus with his two 'brothers'; the sense of a repressed identity within Rebus; the different sides of Edinburgh. Perhaps it's that I read the book around fifteen years after it came out, when there were eleven or twelve subsequent books, so I couldn't suspect Rebus himself of the crime. But then, if the book had that complete air of dream/nightmare or ambiguity about outcome, then it couldn't have spawned a series. If it were successful as a literary novel, we wouldn't have the great crime novels that followed.
So Knots and Crosses itself is good. It's not perfect. I think it's clearly a first novel, a novel about people at the lower end of middle-age by someone in his mid-twenties, a crime novel by someone who apparently didn't know what a crime novel was. There's parts that have aged poorly. But it's a solid novel that makes me curious what Rankin would have achieved if he'd pursued literary rather than crime as a genre....more
There's an idea that a good place to start reading the Discworld books is Guards! Guards!, because that's where they start getting consistently good. There's an idea that a good place to start reading the Discworld books is Guards! Guards!, because that's where they start getting consistently good. I've always thought that it was rude to exclude Wyrd Sisters, but I was caught up enough in the idea that Pyramids was a problem, a backslide into something less accomplished. I would like to formally apologise to Pyramids for believing this slander perpetrated by those who think the Watch books are the best of the Discworld. Pyramids is a great story about change, honouring the dead, and religion. In many respects, it's a proto-Small Gods, but in some ways Pyramids offers some more insightful, deep barbs than the later, perhaps more fully accomplished reflection on belief and ritual.
I also have to admit a certain love of the raw, unfinished feel of the Disc as a whole in the earlier novels. Coming off Unseen Academicals in my somewhat chaotic reread, Pyramids feels like a much larger and diverse fantasy world. There's something quite small, for me, about the Ankh-Morpork of later novels. Here, we can see only a small part of Ankh-Morpork, the elite of Djelibeybi, and a slight glimpse at Ephebe, but we nevertheless have a sense that all we get is that glimpse - there is much more besides. Also, it's genuinely funny....more
There is, among Christians, a tendency to say that Christian sects that are discriminatory aren't 'real' Christians. Christian is equated with 'good',There is, among Christians, a tendency to say that Christian sects that are discriminatory aren't 'real' Christians. Christian is equated with 'good', and thus anyone doing something bad isn't really Christian. Half-remembering the story of Small Gods from the last time I read it, maybe fifteen or twenty years ago, I worried that it would reinforce this idea of 'real' believers. The god Om returns to the Discworld to find that only one person, the novice Brutha, really believes in him. The faith of every other Omnian has either been misdirected into the structures of the church or has been replaced with fear of the Quisition.
As I read the book this time (or, rather, listened to Andy Serkis read it), I began to realise that Small Gods has a lot more nuance in its discussion of faith than I had remembered. To begin with, religious faith is set alongside faith in individuals, faith in oneself, faith in one's government, and faith in war as a means of achieving rightness. Perhaps more relevantly, it is not Brutha's belief in Om that makes him good, but rather his goodness stems from the same foundations as his belief. Indeed, encountering the god leads Brutha down an entirely different path of understanding goodness.
As Pratchett was an atheist, his approach to the subject of god(s) is not a form of theodicy but rather a meditation on power. Specifically, the responsibilities on those with power to those whom they have power over from whom said power comes. Brutha and the other human characters go through a quite different journey of faith in this story to that which Om goes through. If theodicy is justifying God despite the existence of evil, Pratchett is pointing out that it is a god's responsibility to justify itself and, also, do some serious self-reflection about where that evil comes from.
Thus, I was satisfied with Small Gods as an exploration of faith by a well-meaning atheist on this, my first time reading it as an atheist myself. While most of the Discworld books are deeper than they appear at first glance, Small Gods feels like one that would reward much rereading and contemplation alongside other books that question the role of faith in our world....more
In the not-quite fourteen years since the one and only previous time I read Unseen Academicals, it has become something of a byword in my head for theIn the not-quite fourteen years since the one and only previous time I read Unseen Academicals, it has become something of a byword in my head for the decline of Terry Pratchett's health. It's not so much that it's bad, but the general flaws of Discworld novels in general are more emphasised here. It reads a little like a penultimate draft rather than a finished book - a few tightened screws and it could have been great. But as it stands, there are a lot of themes raised and not really explored - football as religion, sport as a replacement for war, crowd mentality and what it means. There's also quite a bit of gender essentialism, which could be a support for a metaphor about Nutt and masculinity, but it's not quite there. And something that's always bothered me about the ending: (view spoiler)[that the match doesn't finish, the Dean/Henry/Arch-chancellor/Referee just decides to make it sudden death in the first half. Given the amount of standing around that takes place in the middle of the match, this could definitely have been rejigged to have a half-time break where Trev is won over to play, with sudden death only occurring in extra time. I just don't, personally, believe that the crowd/shove as depicted would have accepted the abbreviated game. (hide spoiler)]
That being said, listening to the audiobook and taking it a bit more slowly, I came to appreciate a lot of the scenes and the wit that is still in evidence here. It's still probably among my least favourite Discworld novels, but it is still Discworld....more
A perfectly serviceable dramatic adaptation of the Iliad (and a bit of the Aeneid. I don't think I found much in this version that was especially insiA perfectly serviceable dramatic adaptation of the Iliad (and a bit of the Aeneid. I don't think I found much in this version that was especially insightful or innovative, at least in the radio play, but it was an enjoyable listen. A few things from the text that weren't in the BBC production, such as Zeus's initial speech, I really liked. I think there are a few things to the performance that I would have liked, had it been possible to see it ten years later (oh, Odysseus will be getting home just about now)....more
I "read" this book in the format of listening to the podcasts of the original lectures, with the ebook (borrowed on hoopla) open to make notes and higI "read" this book in the format of listening to the podcasts of the original lectures, with the ebook (borrowed on hoopla) open to make notes and highlights. I put "read" in inverted commas not because I'm anti-audiobook (I have a shelf for them!), but because the lectures and the book are somewhat different, so there may be much that I have missed. Nevertheless, I enjoyed listening to the lectures and getting some insight into the state of poetry in the half-decade pre-Covid according to Simon Armitage.
I tend to think of myself as being quite new to poetry, and from that perspective I enjoyed Armitage's view as a way of discovering some new poems and poets and ways of looking at poetry that I had not previously encountered. I have made a list with the intent of actually sitting down with the physical version of this book and rereading it after I have read some of those referenced in the lectures - approvingly or not.
But Armitage's memories of the book of poetry he received in secondary school reminded me of all the poetry I not only read, but remembered from my time at secondary school - principally the First World War poetry of Wilfred Owen; but also U.A. Fanthorpe's 'Not My Best Side', John Donne's 'The Sunne Rising', and a few others that have stuck in my head over the years without much effort on my part. And it made me miss the environment where I was forced to read certain things that I might not, initially, have wanted to read, but which ultimately affected me quite a bit. It makes me think about how I suppose I was always into this, but just didn't have the motivation to get into it.
Which ties in, I suppose to Armitage's through-line of accessibility of poetry - how yes, it should be some work, but that deliberate obscurity is not as clever as concise clarity, that accessibility should not be frowned upon, that the work should not all be on the reader (or, to be fair, the poet). I think there can be more nuance to his argument but I did like it, and feel seen by it, and I hope to read more poetry now that I have read this....more
After rereading Mossflower around the turn of the year, I expected coming back to Redwall as an adult to be something of a disappointment. The divisioAfter rereading Mossflower around the turn of the year, I expected coming back to Redwall as an adult to be something of a disappointment. The division of "good" and "bad" along species lines bothered me even as a child, and as an adult it becomes more and more noticeable that the baddies never really have the upper hand. But I think coming to this novel not just as an adult, but some months apart from another book in the series and twenty-odd years after last reading more than that, there's a lot in Redwall that I deeply appreciate that I don't think I did as a child.
I started reading the Redwall series with The Bellmaker, the seventh book published, and tended to (re)read them by the internal chronology as far as I can remember. Therefore, despite being the first published, Redwall itself was always in the middle, or quite late on, when I got to it. From that position, it's differences to the rest of the series feel like peculiarities rather than part of the structure of this world that was then changed. What became apparent to me as I listened to this story this time around was how Matthias goes through many challenges that pit him against the natural enemies of a mouse, as well as requiring him to do mousey things: he must sneak through the walls of a building to reach the attic; he must face a cat, an owl, and a snake. That being said, there are some discrepancies that are sorted out from the second book: Matthias is small enough to fit into the mouth of a cat, but Constance, a badger, doesn't seem to be proportionally larger than the other Abbey creatures.
While the starkly drawn lines between good and evil in some areas are frustrating, the overtones of a battle between Good and Evil I found fascinating. Redwall Abbey takes a Christian religious institution and largely strips it of Christian overtones. There's no talk of heavenly reward, just that doing good is the right thing to do. Monks are celibate, but there's no gender divisions within the Abbey - it was founded by an abbess and now has an abbot, even if I can't recall any nuns in this novel. Cluny - who shares his name with the location of a famous abbey - appears to manifest an absolute evil, and his followers mention Hell and Satan ("Satan's whiskers" is perhaps the most spectacular curse in the novel). In Jacques' world, evil may have many followers and seem overwhelming, but greed and hatred and orders delivered by an overlord will prevent the cohesion necessary to triumph; meanwhile, within Redwall, the good characters do what they must without question, and instructions are not commands.
To put it simply, I understand completely why I loved this book, why it led me to chose Martin as my confirmation name, why I reread the series so often as a child (up to a point as there are a bunch I've never read). I don't think I could get back into the whole thing as an adult, but I enjoyed revisiting this part of it....more
As someone who has read all of the books adapted here fairly recently, I found these adaptations deeply enjoyable, a reminder of how the story goes anAs someone who has read all of the books adapted here fairly recently, I found these adaptations deeply enjoyable, a reminder of how the story goes and how powerful and effective they are to me. If I try to imagine them from the point of view of someone who has not previously read these books, they are probably too vague about the story, probably adapting things in too short a span of time to work. But as a week-long reminder of all of Earthsea, and The Left Hand of Darkness, it was wonderful. And the Ursula Le Guin at 85 Radio 4 program, which I did listen to in 2015 when it was originally broadcast, I loved, just as I did then....more
If I were to sum up the problem with The Last Continent as a Discworld novel, I think it would be that there's very little I found to compel me to keeIf I were to sum up the problem with The Last Continent as a Discworld novel, I think it would be that there's very little I found to compel me to keep reading. There's a lot of fun in the Rincewind sections - perhaps more to those familiar with Australian culture in the decades leading up to the '90s - and some interesting ideas in the parts with the wizards in the past, but I put this audiobook down for days at a time because I didn't feel compelled to see where it was going next. The characters just sort of mill around through various scenarios without a sense of where they want to go. It's an enjoyable part of the series, but feels underdeveloped compared to others....more
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