tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3911860466561247032024-03-11T04:24:22.543+01:00Thus Spake the Mighty Wha-keemMusings on life, literature, film, music and comics by the Mad Swede.The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.comBlogger114125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-15600488703446472722012-08-28T20:30:00.000+02:002012-08-28T20:34:40.674+02:00Secret Identities, Origin Stories and Never-ending Continuities: On Superhero Films and Some of their Problems<div style="text-align: justify;">
Having seen <i>The Avengers</i>, <i>The Amazing Spider-Man</i> and <i>The Dark Knight Rises</i> this year (<span style="font-size: x-small;">liking them all to different degrees</span>), I have been struck by a few things that seem to continuously manifest themselves as the superhero genre has migrated from the four-coloured pages of comicbooks to the silver screen, and problematically so, I would argue.</div>
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This post will focus on three things: secret identities, origin stories and never-ending continuities. All of these (<span style="font-size: x-small;">mostly</span>) seem to become problematic in the genre's transition from one medium to another.</div>
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Let's start off with secret identities. This conceit is central to the superhero genre. It is not that there aren't exceptions (<span style="font-size: x-small;">the Fantastic Four leaps to mind, for instance</span>), but most superheroes do have them. And they have them for a reason.</div>
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While fans love debating which identity is any given character's "true" identity (<span style="font-size: x-small;">e.g. is Superman really Superman sometimes pretending to be Clark Kent, or is he Clark Kent sometimes pretending to be Superman?</span>), the idea of the dual identity is deeply rooted in another idea: that doing what heroes usually do tends to go together with making enemies of the more violent kind, who would just love to know about all the hero's relatives and friends in order to hit him/her where it hurts.</div>
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Now, recent superhero films tend to pay a faux tribute to this concept. Sure, Spider-Man is still Peter Parker when Andrew Garfield plays him, but the secretly bit is kind of whittled away. After a while, Garfield is leaping about without mask more than with it, it seemed. And before long, a bundle of other characters know fully well that Peter Parker is Spider-Man. Don't get me wrong: I like Marc Webb's reboot. In some places I think it is superior to the Raimi "trilogy" (<span style="font-size: x-small;">e.g. hello mechanical web-shooters!</span>), in others less so. However, among the things I find really off-putting is this failure to grasp the importance of keeping the secret secret.</div>
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While <i>The Avengers</i> also fails in this – Tony Stark is <i>publicly </i>Iron Man since the ending of his first film; Captain America is running around without mask as much as with mask (<span style="font-size: x-small;">which I'd say is fairly public</span>); Hawkeye has done away with mask altogether (<span style="font-size: x-small;">I excuse Black Widow, since she hasn't been masked in the comics since the 60s, I believe</span>); and Thor has done away with a civilian identity altogether – with the exception of the overly maskless Cap (<span style="font-size: x-small;">who <i>had </i>a good hood and all</span>), the context makes it work better; consequently, I am more forgiving here.</div>
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Secondly, we have origin stories. These stories are crucial to superheroes in that they are the central to the character, a sort of frame for what he/she is and why. However, as such, they are backdrops defining the characters, but not necessarily stories that needs to be told as the main story – front and centre.</div>
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I understand that origin stories are tempting when a superhero is adapted to the big screen. After all, it is a central story and possibly <i>the </i>story with which a larger audience is somewhat familiar (<span style="font-size: x-small;">if familiar at all</span>). Still, I find the notion that <i>every </i>(<span style="font-size: x-small;">yes, I am exaggerating</span>) superhero film has to be an origin story, unless it has a number behind the title (<span style="font-size: x-small;">in a manner of speaking</span>), highly annoying. Add to this the recent trend of rebooting every franchise within three films or so (<span style="font-size: x-small;">if that</span>), and you not only have a continual stream of origin stories reaching the big screen, but a continual stream of versions of the same origin stories over and over again. Originitis is killing off potentially good stories by repeating till fade.</div>
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If you want to see a good example of rebooting, watch Leterrier's <i>The Incredible Hulk</i>. It is clearly a reboot, with a different version of the origin than that presented in the earlier Ang Lee film. The story of Leterrier's film, however, is not that origin story. That story is neatly presented to the viewer in the credits sequence at the opening of the film, basically doing what I mentioned above: it provides a frame for the character. The story that follows is another story, and one I really enjoyed at that.</div>
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Part of the problem with originitis is that it blocks the creative process. Not only does many if not most heroes carry with them any number of other classic stories or story arcs that could potentially be adapted into film or drawn upon, there is also a great narrative strength in the fact that these characters as a general rule are constructed to carry continuous stories in unspecified numbers. That is to say, new stories ought easily be folded in and presented, on the big screen just as easily as in a new issue of the comicbook.</div>
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Which nicely leads us to the final thing on my agenda, i.e. never-ending continuities. Superheroes are the type of characters who are mythic in nature. In revisiting Raimi's conclusion to his <i>Spider-Man</i> trilogy earlier this year, my friend <a href="http://www.zakiscorner.com/2012/07/spidey-on-screen-spider-man-3-2007.html">Zaki Hasan wrote</a>: "<span style="color: red;">I've often heard superhero stories likened to modern mythology as a way, perhaps, to make the former sound more important than they are, but the big difference is that, unlike Robin Hood or King Arthur, there's no Sherwood burial or flight to Avalon for Batman or Superman or their ilk.</span>" While this would seem to contradict my preceding statement, I would rather suggest that Zaki here fails to distinguish (<span style="font-size: x-small;">quite usefully, I would argue</span>) between myth and legend. Myth carries with it the cloth of mythology, which more than anything is a vast canvas of interrelated character about whom stories upon stories upon stories are told. Compared to the legends of King Arthur or Robin Hood, who more clearly have dramatic arcs, the gods of the Norse men or the Greek were religious stories of continuous example. Basically, the idea of character clearly supersedes that of plot (<span style="font-size: x-small;">which is not to say that the latter is altogether insignificant</span>).</div>
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Superhero stories belong in this category too. There is not a finite number of Spider-Man tales to be told, but a multitude of possibilities. What is important is the character, and whatever stories he can carry. Any of these stories needs to have a beginning, a middle and an ending (<span style="font-size: x-small;">like all stories do</span>), but they need not be <i>the </i>beginning (<span style="font-size: x-small;">originitis</span>) or even more importantly <i>the </i>ending <i>of the character</i>.</div>
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With this in mind, the current trilogyitis (<span style="font-size: x-small;">going hand in hand with the originitis, it seems</span>) only forefronts the issue. Instead of creating an interesting version and allowing others to play with the concept in the same playground – building a cinematic continuity that allows for (<span style="font-size: x-small;">if not necessitates</span>) interesting links to be made and stories to intermingle and build upon each other – it appears as if more or less every director wants to mark his/her territory so badly that they pee all over the place.</div>
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And it should not be necessary. Marvel Studios has successfully shown that cinematic continuity is not only possible, but a hugely successful concept (<span style="font-size: x-small;">I willingly admit that part of me wept a little when I read an interview in which Shane Black, director of <i>Iron Man 3</i>, talked about his film as the concluding part of the <i>trilogy</i></span>). Whedon's <i>Avengers</i> not only builds upon the preceding films and serves as their culmination; it suggests further stories. Quite possibly an endless supply of stories.</div>
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The idea here is not that a (<span style="font-size: x-small;">nigh</span>) endless sequence of stories need be told, but rather that any story should suggest itself as part of such a sequence even if the sequence itself never exists.</div>
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To give an example, and return to the distinction between myths and legends, or fairy tales, I would like to quickly bring up Tim Burton's two <i>Batman </i>films. Now, I will confess to being a huge Burton fan, and I do like his <i>Batman </i>films, but there are some elements that has never sat right with me. And I pegged what the problem was fairly early on in life: Burton's genre par excellence is the fairy tale. Almost any Burton film corresponds to this literary genre. Now, the fairy tale, much like the legend, is very much plot driven. In fact, the former is probably a bit more so than the latter, since the plots of legends seem more obviously centred on central characters (<span style="font-size: x-small;">e.g. King Arthur or Robin Hood</span>), whereas the characters of fairy tale to a much greater degree are more easily reducible to types (<span style="font-size: x-small;">e.g. Snow White or Cinderella</span>). In a fairy tale, the beginning, middle and ending are <i>the </i>beginning, <i>the </i>middle and <i>the </i>ending: in a nutshell, the be-all of plot and story.</div>
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So where does this leave us with regards to Burton's two <i>Batman </i>films (<span style="font-size: x-small;">after all, there are clearly <i>two</i>, which would seem to contradict my point</span>)? Well, fairy tales solve their plot permanently, and quite often violently. Not that superhero stories do not use violence, but mostly death is kept out of the equation (<span style="font-size: x-small;">obviously with exceptions</span>). Or if death occurs, the reader usually craves a body (<span style="font-size: x-small;">mostly withheld</span>) in order to believe this "death" is in any way permanent. What I am getting at here is the idea of rogues' galleries, of arch enemies, of cycles of enmity and battle. Burton notably kills off both the Joker and the Penguin, removing them from that continuity after their first appearance (<span style="font-size: x-small;">in this context, it is worth noting that Nolan did an even greater injustice to Two-Face in <i>The Dark Knight</i>, not even allowing the character a full appearance before removing him</span>). These are two classic arch enemies in Batman's rogues' gallery and to Burton they simply appear expendable at the altar of plot and story, as if a single story is enough not only to characterise these characters or their relationship to the Batman, but also to tell all there is to tell about the characters.</div>
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I am reminded of a brilliant little Batman story I read as a teenager back in the late 80s (<span style="font-size: x-small;">notably before switching to reading American comics in original</span>). The title, which sadly escapes me in detail, was something with "circles" or "symbols", or similar. The point of it, which has stayed with me, was Batman meeting a gypsy fortune-teller, while searching for the Joker. In her reading of Batman (<span style="font-size: x-small;">whether by tarot or crystal ball, I forget</span>), she sees the cyclical nature of the relationship between Batman and the Joker (<span style="font-size: x-small;">something which both Frank Miller and Alan Moore respectively touch upon in <i>The Dark Knight Returns</i> and <i>The Killing Joke</i> also</span>). The story was not long, as I recall. I'm not sure if it would have been a full American issue even, but it really nicely pinpointed this phenomenon, which somehow strikes me as a core concept in the genre: the villain always (<span style="font-size: x-small;">okay, another exaggeration, but bear with me</span>) returns. And the hero avoids killing the villain, because killing is not what heroes do.</div>
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To wrap up, I sincerely hope the trend is turning. I hope that secret identities will become secrets to be kept yet again. I hope that we will get more than just origin stories on repeat. And I hope ever so much that we will get more middles. Middles all the way up, to borrow from an old saying about turtles.</div>
The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-10835166431864768222012-07-31T22:07:00.001+02:002012-07-31T22:08:37.496+02:00Munsch's Paper Bag Princess: A Book Ahead of its Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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I first encountered author Robert Munsch and illustrator Michael Martchenko's wonderful children's book <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0920236162/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0920236162"><i>The Paper Bag Princess</i></a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.co.uk/e/ir?t=thuspathemigw-21&l=as2&o=2&a=0920236162" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" /> in its <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/1554512115/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=1554512115">board book version</a> last Christmas, when I gave it to my son after having been recommended it by friends. And it immediately blew me away, even in that abridged format (<span style="font-size: x-small;">I have since read it in full too</span>).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN9kOYH2EYomuFgTwGaTBnp1fZ1UF1FFt9BbDV_X53MMXZwZRxCP3PjVAUJDO13P5x1kxbBmaXBNbMqnzLTYTO3fMfE73KLEZgCmxTN5VLNfuTOpIEnJjMH7HTLMiq5VJUO5qEvEKxeDE/s1600/the-paper-bag-princess.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN9kOYH2EYomuFgTwGaTBnp1fZ1UF1FFt9BbDV_X53MMXZwZRxCP3PjVAUJDO13P5x1kxbBmaXBNbMqnzLTYTO3fMfE73KLEZgCmxTN5VLNfuTOpIEnJjMH7HTLMiq5VJUO5qEvEKxeDE/s1600/the-paper-bag-princess.gif" /></a></div>
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In a day and age when gender roles and social structures relating to them are continuously under examination and critique, and we struggle to find the balance between allowing our children to fall into the pre-ordained roles and to be different, it is refreshing to note that one of the more radical takes on this in terms of children's literature is a book first published in 1980 (<span style="font-size: x-small;">i.e. 32 years ago</span>). Granted that it is sad that the book is still needed, but social structures do not change over night. It is a slow process. But this book, now in its 69th printing, is a good starting point.</div>
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So, what is so fantastic about this little book then, you wonder? I will tell you. But before I do, <b>I feel obliged to tell you that there will be spoilers ahead</b>. If you want a chance to read this story in full with unspoiled eyes, stop reading this post now, find a copy of the book and return here once you have read it.</div>
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<i>The Paper Bag Princess</i> is the story of Elizabeth. She is "a beautiful princess" (<span style="font-size: x-small;">nothing radical there</span>), who is "to marry a prince named Ronald" (<span style="font-size: x-small;">nothing radical there either</span>). After this somewhat traditional opening, things take a turn off the regular path. A dragon appears, burning down the castle, Elizabeth's clothes and kidnapping Ronald. Having lost her prince and her clothes in this dramatic and unorthodox fashion (<span style="font-size: x-small;">after all, traditionally we would of course have expected Ronald to don a knightly suit to save his fair princess' hand</span>), Elizabeth does not sit around and mope; she dons an unburned paper bag as clothing and goes after the dragon.</div>
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Not surprisingly, she finds the dragon, but yet again, the story deviates from our traditional expectations where we would have expected Ronald to be the party leaping into action, because Elizabeth not only shows cunning and great intelligence in her dealing with the dragon (<span style="font-size: x-small;">there are after all some male heroes who prefer brains to brawn too</span>), but also a restraint from using violence. The dragon is vanquished without a single drop of blood (<span style="font-size: x-small;">Elizabeth's or the dragon's</span>) being shed, swords being drawn or any blow being struck (<span style="font-size: x-small;">although, a lot of trees could be classified as collateral damage, I guess</span>).</div>
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And so the prince is saved, and traditionally, this is where we would expect to get back on the marriage track. However, this is not a traditional story. Prince Ronald complains about Elizabeth's appearance – hello! a princess dressed in a paper bag is no princess – at which point Elizabeth, quite logically, sees him for the bum he really is. And seeing that, she makes the only sound choice at hand, i.e. she dumps him.</div>
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The closing line of the book – "They didn't get married after all." – is great, both in the context of the story and the literary tradition it simultaneously works in and against.</div>
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While I think it ought to be mandatory reading for all young girls, I certainly encourage all parents to share this gem of a book with their children. Perhaps first and foremost because it is a very good read and beautifully illustrated, but not less importantly because it forces us to look at traditional views of princes and princesses critically, and turns them upside-down. And that is plain healthy – for everyone. </div>
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<br /></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-5404753347864860602012-06-30T22:04:00.000+02:002012-06-30T22:09:31.361+02:00Cutting off Limbs to Gain Better Balance: On Gothenburg University's Decision to Cancel Italian<div style="text-align: justify;">
June has been a month full of weird waves at the Faculty of Arts at Gothenburg University. The Head of the Faculty and her upper management proposed to close down teaching in Old Church Slavonic, Ancient Greek, Russian and Italian, and move Chinese, Arabic and the non-fiction translator programme to other Departments and even other Faculties, in an attempt to cut down costs (<span style="font-size: x-small;">which the upper regime of the University itself demands of the Faculty</span>). It should be added that similar purges had already been performed (<span style="font-size: x-small;">e.g. on Dutch and Slavonic languages</span>) and the sentiment that arose at the Department of Languages and Literatures in response to this latest attack brought an old poem by German pastor Martin Niemöller to mind: </div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: red;">First they came for the communists,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: red;">and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: red;">Then they came for the trade unionists,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: red;">and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: red;">Then they came for the Jews,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: red;">and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: red;">Then they came for me</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: black;">and there was no one left to speak out for me.</span></span></div>
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While no lives hangs in the immediate balance in the current situation (<span style="font-size: x-small;">at least not in the sense of literal executions hanging in the air</span>), Niemöller's poem does seem appropriate in the sense that silent acceptance always seems be a dangerous path in matters like these.</div>
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In this case, however, the codes of silence have been broken and voices have spoken out loud and been heard (<span style="font-size: x-small;">and with at the very least some effect</span>) – I will link a number of relevant articles and documents in Swedish below, for anyone interested in some of the particulars. The Faculty Board held off on axing three of the endangered languages, but Italian became a seemingly inevitable casualty. The problem remains: one language down, three seemingly still do go in this round, and the idea of moving things to "other research environments" is maintained if not yet practically executed.</div>
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Now, the Humanities have long been in dire straits on a global level, as has been discussed by many thinkers (<span style="font-size: x-small;">notably including Martha Nussbaum</span>). In that sense, there is nothing new here. What is increasingly frightening, however, is the willingness, nay even eagerness, with which the Head of the Faculty and her cohorts go about trimming off sibling disciplines. Especially when these sibling disciplines are at the front and centre of what the Humanities are all about.</div>
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The prevailing image here is one of an entity devouring itself from within, rather than fighting external hostile conditions and debating for its own survival. The Faculty appears as a wounded giant, desperately hewing and hacking off limbs to gain better balance, while standing ever less firmly positioned on the ground.</div>
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The current affairs, not yet fully settled of course, seem to suggest a Faculty Management hostile towards language education and research. And yes, let us add further indication of this: the Faculty was recently offered to host a new Language Institute – and turned it down. It now looks like said institute will be established at the Faculty of Education instead, and I hope you will forgive a dystopian mind for thinking that whatever languages eventually remain at the Faculty of Arts may well be asked to move to the institute once it is up and running.</div>
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If that bleak vision actually holds true (<span style="font-size: x-small;">and believe me when I say that I hope not</span>), I wonder how long it will take for the Faculty of Arts to crumble. Because if any of the subjects within the Humanities can justify themselves somewhat more easily with regards to the general public, I would say that it would be the languages. And the need to chip away at the Humanities themselves will hardly go away with the loss of languages.</div>
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But, if you will pardon a paraphrase of Niemöller, the Head of the Faculty may find that when they come for her and hers, there are no languages left to speak out with.</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Assorted links (in Swedish):</span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: x-small;">The </span><a href="http://www.gp.se/nyheter/debatt/1.982211-illa-tankt-om-sprak-pa-goteborgs-universitet?articleRenderMode=default" style="font-size: small;">assembled professors</a><span style="background-color: black; font-size: x-small;"> at the Department of Languages and Literature on the matter.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: x-small;">The <a href="http://www.gp.se/nyheter/debatt/1.986980-ett-foga-konstruktivt-raseriutbrott-om-sprak">response</a> from the Head of the Faculty.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: justify;">The Head of the Language Faculty in Uppsala </span><a href="http://www.unt.se/debatt/vem-tar-ansvar-for-spraken-1780944.aspx" style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;">weighs in</a><span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: justify;">. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: x-small;">An interesting <a href="http://www.dilapidation.ru/uni/gu.overs.jpg">comment</a> by Doctor of German and journalist, Magnus Pettersson Ängsal.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: x-small;">The Students' Union at Gothenburg University makes the <a href="http://www.svd.se/opinion/brannpunkt/humanistisk-forskning-for-dodskamp_7304041.svd">students' voices</a> heard. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: x-small;">Psychologist Gabriela Koszyk's <a href="http://www.gp.se/nyheter/debatt/friaord/1.990122-fel-att-minska-sprakutbildningarna">comment</a> is worth reading.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: x-small;">The Faculty Board <a href="http://www.hum.gu.se/digitalAssets/1375/1375607_hfn-p120620-inklbilagor.pdf">minutes</a>, featuring the decision to cancel Italian and give at least a brief respite to the other languages.</span></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-78449136238961125092012-05-18T12:00:00.000+02:002012-05-18T12:00:05.679+02:00The Musings of the Mad Swede: Year Three<div style="text-align: justify;">
And so we're here again. May 18. Exactly three years have passed since I wrote my first post here and officially opened <i>Thus Spake the Mighty Wha-keem</i>. It started with a bold <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2009/05/so-ill-try-my-hand-at-this-then-shall-i.html">mission statement</a> and a weekly publishing schedule, which I'm proud to say I managed to uphold fairly well during the first year. In its second year, a change to a <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2010/10/change-of-publishing-pace.html">bi-weekly schedule</a> was instituted and has just recently given way to a <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2012/04/report-of-my-death-was-exaggeration-or.html">monthly one</a> (<span style="font-size: x-small;">without a specific publication day in the month or the week</span>). For now. And I am still here, so I think that's worth a little anniversary festivity and contemplation.</div>
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<a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2011/05/musings-of-mad-swede-year-two.html">Last year's anniversary musings</a> were written in advance (<span style="font-size: x-small;">thankfully</span>), as I spent the actual day in the delivery room awaiting the arrival of my son, who firmly held out and refused to share his birthday with his father's blog (<span style="font-size: x-small;">one has to recognise the integrity in that</span>). The year that has followed has, for many obvious reasons, been an adventure unlike any other, but our focus here will be the 24 posts that have been written and published here since then (<span style="font-size: x-small;">perhaps in spite of other adventures</span>).</div>
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Reviewing those posts, I note that a few subjects stand out: There have been several <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2011/06/author-creator-or-creative-vessel.html">posts</a> on various <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2011/07/acting-or-writing-genius.html">aspects</a> of <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2011/11/writing-as-mosaic-or-grammar-in-world.html">writing</a>; and also a few on comics (<span style="font-size: x-small;">including a look at Jim Starlin's <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2011/10/mar-vell-warlock-and-infinite-saga-jim.html">cosmic Marvel work</a>, Swedish comics creator Mike Berg's <i><a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2012/01/agent-marc-saunders-sweden-gets-its.html">Agent Marc Saunders</a></i> and DC's <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2012/02/during-watchmen-some-thoughts-on-dcs.html">revisiting the <i>Watchmen </i>universe</a></span>). Reality also intruded harshly with the horrible massacre on the Norwegian island of <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2011/07/unreal-reality-utya.html">Utøya</a>, which resulted in a string of posts on topics like <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2011/08/eye-for-eye-contemplations-on-death.html">the death penalty</a> and the <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2011/08/understanding-culture-101.html">mongrel nature of all culture</a>. On a more positive note, my <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2011/10/post-100-really-honestly-i-did-maths.html">100th post</a> was celebrated in October (<span style="font-size: x-small;">for the second time, obviously, but accurately this time around</span>) and the <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2011/10/five-seminars-four-mini-seminars-nine.html">2011 edition of the Göteborg Book Fair</a> was covered (<span style="font-size: x-small;">as per tradition</span>). I have also written about the <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2011/05/never-tease-wolves-who-arrive-at-your.html">splendour of Australian progressive rock band Aragon</a>, and a host of other subjects, small and large.</div>
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All in all, and in spite of a slowed down publishing pace yet again, I don't think my blog accomplishments this past year have been too shabby.</div>
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I am still having fun, and I hope you are too, gentle reader.</div>
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I'll see you again next month.</div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-17606521415153936672012-04-16T12:00:00.001+02:002012-04-16T12:00:00.735+02:00"The Report of My Death Was an Exaggeration," or: "The Times They Are a-Changing"<div style="text-align: justify;">
"And so I'm back," as Gloria Gaynor sang.</div>
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Regular readers will note that my biweekly publishing schedule has more or less been shot to hell (<span style="font-size: x-small;">and back</span>). A number of factors including job, illness and life have caught up with me in the last month or so, and thus not only one but two scheduled posts have had their deadlines flow by without seeing publication.</div>
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In fact, the first of the two quotes forming this post's title is partly a reference to the lost post of March 19, which I had fully intended to be a brief eulogy over a giant in the field of comics, Jean Giraud a.k.a. Moebius, who sadly died on March 10. Among his finer achievements are <i>Blueberry </i>with Jean-Michel Charlier (<span style="font-size: x-small;">possibly the finest Western comic ever</span>) and <i>The Incal</i> with Alejandro Jodorowsky (<span style="font-size: x-small;">an absolutely astounding piece of <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/112307840">comics</a> <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/112307913">fiction</a></span>). But I digress. Two deadlines later and over a month since his passing, a eulogy seems somewhat misplaced (<span style="font-size: x-small;">albeit not undeserved</span>); and here lies another part of the first title quote, by none other than Samuel Langhorne Clemens (<span style="font-size: x-small;">more commonly known as Mark Twain</span>), since the failure to deliver the intended eulogy on time might well have been seen as a sign of a demise – if not my own, then at least the blog itself.</div>
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Fret not, however, dear reader. I may be melodramatic by nature at times, but I have not abandoned my post, merely reconsidered it and adapted to current limitations in time and what-not (<span style="font-size: x-small;">which has been done <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.se/2010/10/change-of-publishing-pace.html">once before in this spot</a></span>). And thus the second title quote by Robert Allen Zimmerman (<span style="font-size: x-small;">more commonly known as Bob Dylan</span>) comes into play.</div>
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So, what are the changes then? Well, <i>Thus Spake the Mighty Wha-keem</i> will go from being a biweekly publication to a monthly publication (<span style="font-size: x-small;">with the addendum that I may well decide to throw in extra posts in-between should time permit it and material suggest itself</span>). Hopefully this will allow things to get back on track and keep the blog alive and kicking.</div>
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Thanks for your continued readership, gentle reader!</div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-9174462236979605282012-03-05T16:20:00.000+01:002012-03-05T16:21:53.410+01:00There Is no Such Thing as Coincidence: Fictional Plot and Verisimilitude<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am currently enjoying Swedish state television SVT's big science fiction venture <i><a href="http://svt.se/2.161944/1.2646019/information_in_english">Äkta människor</a></i> (<span style="font-size: x-small;">Eng. Real Humans</span>) and would like to urge any and all Swedish readers who have missed out thus far to catch up via <a href="http://svtplay.se/t/171912/akta_manniskor">SVT Play</a>. International readers should definitely keep an eye out for the series, because I would argue that chances are good that this will be exported. It is an excellent take on an alternate reality / near future, where hubots (<span style="font-size: x-small;">i.e. humanoid robots</span>) have become an integrated commodity on the market and in society, yet where both ideological resistance against machines replacing real humans and questions of what constitutes actual humanity and intelligence exist side by side, and in opposition to a smooth integration. Through make-up and superb acting, another reality is projected unto the screen and the result is quite possibly Swedish television's finest hour in a loooooong time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">However, fond as I am of the series after its first eight (<span style="font-size: x-small;">out of ten</span>) episodes, there is one thing that has started to bug me somewhat as the plot is slowly gaining its momentum: the nature of coincidence.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There is an old adage that knowingly states that there is no such thing as coincidence. While I am not necessarily ready to subscribe to such a notion completely (<span style="font-size: x-small;">if for no other reason than the fact that we would have to define coincidence in a pretty precise fashion</span>), I am willing to agree that there is not really any such thing as coincidence in a fictional plot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Do not get me wrong: there is clearly a possibility of real world coincidences influencing authors or artists in their narrative choices (<span style="font-size: x-small;">in film or television this would furthermore seem even more true as casting choices or even weather conditions on a shooting day might affect the finished product</span>). However, that being said, the nature of plot itself is to create a believable sequence of events, or a mesh of intricate plot strands that unite in a complex yet unified story. Reality may very well be quite disorganised, but a narrative requires a certain sense of order, let us call it narrative logic, to be believable. This line of reasoning obviously resonates in the old Chekov quote about a gun on the wall in the first act of a play needing to be used in the second. In short, a reader will only tolerate so many red herrings, and even then they need to be relevant herrings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As such, plot is its own enemy, because in trying to create this narrative logic and impose verisimilitude, it also runs the risk of violating the same verisimilitude it tries to achieve. We may not accept the disorganised chaos of reality as narrative proper, but nor do we accept the too neat narrative as real. And this is where coincidence becomes relevant.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Chekov's example above is good because it shows that stories should avoid being bogged down with needless things. Just because an author has a whole world at his disposal, it does not necessarily mean that going anywhere and everywhere in it is beneficial. In fact, and following Chekov's logic, authors need to restrain themselves and only go where their plot <i>needs </i>them to go. The trick is to follow that logic while masking its blatant intentionality.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">If every piece and part of a narrative services the plot and the story, it needs to do so without calling attention to the plot or the story (<span style="font-size: x-small;">unless it is a case of metafiction, where such a tactic may be suitable</span>). What do I mean? Well, if coincidences are starting to stack up (<span style="font-size: x-small;">e.g. chance meetings between characters, deus ex machina type scenarios where there are just enough guns on the relevant wall at the much needed time, etc</span>), we as an audience are less likely to believe that they are coincidences, and we inevitably start sensing the intentionality of plot. It is not that we normally are entirely unaware of the fact that there is a plot, nor even that we do not look for it; it is more a case of a plot suddenly staring us in the face or in other ways calling attention to itself <i>as </i>a plot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So why do I feel the urge to discuss this in connection with <i>Äkta människor</i> then? Well, the series and its creators have done a fine job of creating an alternative reality or near future, and do an impressive job selling it to the viewer. Verisimilitude is high in this series, to be sure. Yet then there is a nagging sensation, which grows the further into the story we go, that all of our characters (<span style="font-size: x-small;">several, but still fairly limited</span>) are interconnected on far too many levels. In this sense, it becomes less an interconnected weave á la Altman's <i>Short Cuts</i> or Haggis' <i>Crash</i>, and much more of an everyone crossing paths with <i>everyone </i>else. The effect, quite naturally, is the sensation of a shrinking fictional reality, where the intentionality of plot is starting to be visible at the seams.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Still, I would not want to end on too harsh </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">a</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">note, because (</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">as stated</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">) this really is SVT's finest hour in a long time. And it bodes well for the future of Swedish science fiction.</span></div>
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</div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-46373464488040808482012-02-20T14:30:00.002+01:002015-09-04T16:52:40.462+02:00During Watchmen: Some Thoughts on DC's Latest Venture<div style="text-align: justify;">
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First published in 1985 and 1986, Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' twelve issue limited series (<span style="font-size: x-small;">or twelve chapters long graphic novel, if you will</span>) <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/1852860243/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=1852860243"><i>Watchmen</i></a> (<span style="font-size: x-small;">see <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/472331.Watchmen">my review</a></span>) has established itself as one of the greatest graphic novels of all time. Drawing upon existing characters from the Charlton comics universe that DC had appropriated the rights to, but modifying them into closely resembling yet different characters in their own right (<span style="font-size: x-small;">primarily because of editorial demands, but to the benefit of the finished product, I would postulate</span>), the series presented a bleak vision of masked vigilantes and superpowers in an alternate history where the US won the Vietnam war, but where the threat of nuclear annihilation echoes that of the comic's own historical context. Many have labelled Moore's approach a realistic take on superheroes, other have disagreed. Personally, I agree with the former, although I would simultaneously stress its cynical and pessimistic undertones that are certainly not in and of themselves signs of realism.</div>
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Ever since its initial success there has been talk about sequels, or rather the possibility of prequels and the like. Yet over the years, none have materialised, and the relationship between Moore and DC (<span style="font-size: x-small;">as well as most of comicdom</span>) has obviously soured to a point where any involvement from Moore has been a long dead dream for most fans who may have wished for this to materialise.</div>
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Still, money is obviously money in the world of business, and on February 1, DC Comics officially <a href="http://dcu.blog.dccomics.com/2012/02/01/dc-entertainment-officially-announces-%E2%80%9Cbefore-watchmen%E2%80%9D/">announced their plans</a> for <i>Before Watchmen</i>, which can only be described as a major attempt to cash in on this particular cash cow. The idea is setting up no less than seven titles with esteemed comics writers and artists at the helm:</div>
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<i>Rorschach </i>(<span style="font-size: x-small;">4 issues</span>) written by <b>Brian Azzarello</b> and drawn by <b>Lee Bermejo</b>.<br />
<i>Minutemen </i>(<span style="font-size: x-small;">6 issues</span>) written and drawn by <b>Darwyn Cooke</b>.<br />
<i>Comedian </i>(<span style="font-size: x-small;">6 issues</span>) also written by <b>Azzarello </b>and drawn by <b>J.G. Jones</b>.<br />
<i>Dr. Manhattan</i> (<span style="font-size: x-small;">4 issues</span>) written by <b>J. Michael Straczynski</b> and drawn by <b>Adam Hughes</b>.<br />
<i>Nite Owl </i>(<span style="font-size: x-small;">4 issues</span>) also written by Straczynski and drawn by <b>Andy </b>and <b>Joe Kubert</b>.<br />
<i>Ozymandias </i>(<span style="font-size: x-small;">6 issues</span>) written by <b>Len Wein</b> and drawn by <b>Jae Lee</b>.<br />
<i>Silk Spectre</i> (<span style="font-size: x-small;">4 issues</span>) also written by <b>Cooke </b>but drawn by <b>Amanda Conner</b>.</blockquote>
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Not unexpectedly, the internet awakened at this particular piece of news, with <i>The Beat</i> covering both the <a href="http://www.comicsbeat.com/2012/02/01/its-official-dc-announces-before-watchmen/">announcement</a> and the <a href="http://www.comicsbeat.com/2012/02/01/after-before-watchmen-the-industry-reacts/">industry reaction</a> quite well: including Moore's opinions on the matter.</div>
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On the whole, there seem to be two major camps: those in favour of this project and those in opposition to it.</div>
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My own response would situate itself in the latter category. Why? Well, certainly not because of Moore's inalienable rights as creator <i>extraordinaire</i>. Following Moore's response to the announcement many have rightly pointed out that he might not be the person to talk about what others choose to do with "your" character, given how not only the heroes in <i>Watchmen </i>are derivatives from Charlton Comics characters, but in fact most of Moore's substantial ouevre has been about reinventing existing characters one way or another (<span style="font-size: x-small;">from <i>Marvel Man</i>/<i>Miracle Man</i> via <i>Swamp Thing</i> to <i>League of Extraordinary Gentlemen</i> and <i>Lost Girls</i></span>). If anything, Moore's outrage shows a certain kind of hypocrisy, which incidentally is made worse when seen in the light of how he has treated some of his past co-creators, like Stephen Bissette (<span style="font-size: x-small;">who provides <a href="http://srbissette.com/?p=13933">some interesting commentary</a> on the idea that creator-owned work by default beats working on company-owned property in terms of money</span>).</div>
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However, the fact that Moore's response comes across as hypocritical, does not negate the possibility that the project is a bad idea. I can honestly say that I do not grieve the fact that Moore and Gibbons never made any se-, pre-, or other-quels for that matter. On the contrary, I think it is a bad idea regardless of who is at the helm. Why? Because <i>Watchmen </i>as a narrative unit is very precise in its details, each component carrying meaning for the overall story, and as such, the expanded universe is by default, at least to a very large degree, the universe of that specific story. What we need to know is all there. Anything else is superfluous, and in my humble opinion not particularly interesting.</div>
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The fact that DC has opted to call the project <i>Before Watchmen</i> to my mind only proves the point that the company has not understood the property particularly well. Watchmen is not merely a few days in the early '80s of that particular universe; it is a web woven through years upon years of history. We already know the history of it all.</div>
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We know the story of Rorschach and Walter Joseph Kovacs' development from a somewhat naive vigilante to a full-blown psychotic.</div>
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We know the story of the Minutemen and how their glory days ended.</div>
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We know the story of the Comedian and Edward Blake's flawed cynical nature, which eventually did not allow him to live with the concept of utopia actualised.</div>
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We know the story of Dr. Manhattan and Dr. Jon Osterman's transformation from human into the truly superhuman.</div>
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We know the story of Nite Owl and Daniel Dreiberg following in the masked footsteps of Hollis Mason, in order to do something meaningful and adventurous with his life.</div>
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We know the story of Ozymandias and Adrian Veidt's uncanny journey to discover the greatest secret of all time.</div>
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We know the story of Silk Spectre and the interwoven layers of raped Sally Jupiter and her daughter Laurie Juspeczyk.</div>
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We know all these stories already. In detail.</div>
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In fact, DC's project does not constitute a prequel so much as an interquel (<span style="font-size: x-small;">to coin a term</span>). This is not the story, or even a set of stories, before Watchmen. It will be a set of stories filling out gaps in the story. There is a fundamental difference.</div>
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Furthermore, Straczynski's saying that it's all "<span style="color: red;">about the points and shadings between what we think we know about these characters, and the truth — what that says about them, and what it says about us</span>," to me seems utterly uninteresting. Sure, there are good stories to be told on the idea of showing the reader how everything they knew was not what they thought it was. And sure enough, it is an approach that Moore cannot fault anyone for using per se. But, and that is an important but, the devil, as they say, is always in the details, and Moore and Gibbons' narrative is nothing if not detailed. To assume that we can be shown a different truth would require undermining enough of the original to render it more or less unrecognisable. And is that really what the fans of the series are yearning for, I wonder? It is certainly no yearning of mine.</div>
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Some have voiced opinions online to the effect that there is top level artists and writers attached to this, and I do not contest this. I would love seeing a collaboration between Andy and his father Joe Kubert, and I would love reading more qualitative stories written and drawn by Darwyn Cooke. Only, I would love for it to be comics I would actually want to read. Top level artists and writers doing stuff that does not interest me just does not interest me (<span style="font-size: x-small;">if you'll pardon the obvious tautology there</span>).</div>
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Still, I do not doubt that DC will make a bundle of cash on the whole project. They just won't make any of it from my pocket.</div>
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The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-53497813437728521332012-01-23T12:00:00.010+01:002012-01-23T12:00:03.131+01:00Agent Marc Saunders: Sweden Gets Its First Superhero... or Does It?<div style="text-align: justify;">In November last year, a friend of mine shared a link to some interesting news on <i>Bleeding Cool</i>. The headline was<a href="http://www.bleedingcool.com/2011/11/25/sweden-gets-its-first-superhero/"> "Sweden Gets Its First Superhero"</a> and, as I am both a Swede and fan of the superhero genre, my interest was naturally piqued. However, I had some reservations from the start, which I will return to shortly.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Agent Marc Saunders</i> is written and drawn by Mike Berg (<span style="font-size:85%;">a.k.a. Mikael Bergkvist</span>) and inked by American inker <i>extraordinaire </i>Joe Rubinstein, and the first issue introduces Marc Saunders, a superpowered secret agent working for the US. The premise, which ties into strange meteorites and political upheavals (<span style="font-size:85%;">all revealed in the <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/242958628">first issue</a></span>), is really quite good, but the execution does not fully deliver. While there is nothing wrong with the artwork (<span style="font-size:85%;">I definitely enjoy Berg and Rubinstein's visuals</span>), the language leaves a lot to be desired. Often dialogue and captions read like poor translations from English to Swedish, which is needless to say quite sad for something being promoted as Sweden's first <i>original </i>superhero comic.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The second issue might be a slight improvement in that department, but instead falters in its storytelling, which is often fragmented and confusing. I dare call myself an experienced comics reader, and the amount of times I had to skip back and forth in the <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/255669532">second issue</a> to follow the plot (<span style="font-size:85%;">and sometimes failing because necessary linking information was not to be found</span>) was embarrassing. And this is really sad, since there is a really good premise here and some real artistic talent at work.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Returning to the idea of this being Sweden's first superhero and my reservations towards this claim, I think it is worth noting that there has not been any lack of superhero parody and comedy on the Swedish comics scene: there is <i>Kapten Stofil </i>(<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans. Captain Fogey</span>), which I have yet to read, and a great deal of <a href="http://www.johanwanloo.se/">Johan Wanloo</a>'s stuff, from <i>Örn Blammo</i> (<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans. Eagle Blammo</span>) to <i>De äventyrslystna karlakarlarna</i> (<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans. the Adventurous Manly-Men</span>) and beyond, certainly qualifies.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I also do not find it insignificant that Agent Saunders is neither a Swede nor situated in or connected to Sweden. Granted that Sweden might not be the easiest country to situate serious superheroics in (<span style="font-size:85%;">a large country with a small population hardly lends itself to extravagances á la DC or Marvel Comics</span>), but if Swedish writer Jan Guillou could create a Swedish James Bond/Jason Bourne type Swedish agent active on an international arena, one may wonder why Agent Saunders could not have been given a similar Swedish grounding. At least if he is to be called Sweden's first superhero.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But the latter is a minor quibble. Especially compared to the more serious problems with language and, more recently, with storytelling.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">At any rate, I will support the effort at least one more issue. Because it is a good premise there, and of a kind we do not see nearly often enough over here.</div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-64588829527226173572012-01-13T17:45:00.005+01:002012-01-13T18:04:06.359+01:00Friendship and Social Media: Human Behaviour beyond Technology and Virtuality<div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, I am back (<span style="font-size:85%;">more or less</span>), somewhat delayed by a nasty cold, and to top it off, this is not the post I had planned to post next. But bear me with me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a </span><a href="http://graffiti.gp.se/personligt/1.789617">youth column</a><span> in one of Sweden's newspapers in which Mona Jasim argues that true friendship is not to be found on Facebook and that is why she has left. Now, granted that this is a youth column (<span style="font-size:85%;">I will return to some aspects with regards to that</span><span>), but this is not the first time and place where I have seen this kind of argument posted. And I never cease to be amazed by them.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>Why would social media per definition guarantee friendship, or exclude it? Or, for that matter, be the only factor causing inflation in the concept of friendship and what it means?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>In my lifetime thus far (<span style="font-size:85%;">i.e. including long before the internet</span><span>), there have always been people who have had wide circles of loose acquaintances and people who have had a few very close friends. In some cases these two types of people have in actuality been the same individuals. That is to say, the one has never excluded the other.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>Physical presence (</span><span>seeing a person's face, hearing a person's voice, etc</span><span>) no doubt often makes truly getting closer to people easier, but when it comes down to it, the most central thing is to find a space (<span style="font-size:85%;">real or virtual</span><span>) where each party feels safe enough to converse more freely and dare to open up to the other. That is it. Now why would this not be possible to achieve within the frames of FB's services? And why would daily communication with acquaintances (<span style="font-size:85%;">and friends</span><span>) not lead to deepened relationships with them?</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>At the end of the day, I always get the feeling that people who write columns and posts like that mostly express their own inadequacy to interact with other people virtually in a meaningful way. Which leaves us with the question whether it is actually a sound basis for a general definition of a diversified contact medium.</span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>Returning to the issue of the column in question being a youth column (<span style="font-size:85%;">this time</span><span>), an old colleague of mine asked whether we really needed to attribute any weight to it. After all, it was directed to young people, many of whom, in his words, have an addiction-like relation to FB. However, even if I had not seen the argument elsewhere often enough before, I do think we have to question the wisdom of trying to get youngsters to abandon technology like social media rather than teaching them to use it constructively. This type of technology, and whatever follows it, is not very likely to go away. Virtual interaction between people is, and will continue to be, necessary in a global community. It does not mean that we cannot question how we use it, but the latter also requires of us to question if how we use it is defined by the medium or by ourselves.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>Far too many people talk about all the dangers of virtuality – be it anything from wanton and wasteful escapism to criminally fraudulent behaviour – but few seem to stop to consider the fact that most of these things (<span style="font-size:85%;">sometimes admittedly to differing degrees</span><span>) existed long before humankind entered the pathways of virtuality. Scams like the Nigeria letters are not new to the internet; the internet is simply a new mode of distribution. And there is a difference between the two.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>Case in point, when I was a child, no one would have ever considered telling us that getting a pen pal somewhere in the world would be a harmful or wasteful prospect. In fact, it was quite often encouraged, because it offered the opportunity of us getting to know new people, and perhaps even new cultures in the process. Needless to say, really, the idea of pen pals is not entirely without its dangers. Letters can of course be used for fraudulent purposes, or for just wasting away precious time on surface connections. But then again, it can be used for deeper communication too, as ages of collected correspondence gives evidence to.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>Perhaps Mona Jasim would have been better off showing her readers ways in which social media can be used constructively to communicate more deeply with people. But then again, as stated above, it may well be the case that people who write columns and posts like that mostly express their own inadequacy to interact with other people virtually in a meaningful way.</span></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-48929162930195039442011-12-26T12:00:00.011+01:002012-01-13T18:13:31.504+01:00The Big, Fat, Red Lobster Man: Some Seasonal and Associative Ramblings<div style="text-align: justify;">"<span><span>And so it is Christmas</span>,</span>" as John Lennon once sang.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Last year around this time (<span style="font-size:85%;">albeit slightly before the arrival of the big, fat, red lobster man, unlike this year</span>), I wrote about some of my own personal Christmas traditions. This year I thought I would be doing something slightly different; so please indulge me in some ramblings and musings on the subject of Santa Clause.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">To open up this associative chain of thought, allow me to tell you the first half of a joke once told me by one of my colleagues of the linguistic persuasion: What do you call Santa's little helpers? (<span style="font-size:85%;">Hang in there, I promise to provide the answer before we part.</span>)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, Santa Clause – or, as the British call him, Father Christmas; which opens up nicely for a segue into associative digression #1.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">This is in fact my first Christmas as a father, and although the little fellow is a wee bit too small to fully understand or appreciate the proceedings of the holiday, his presence has certainly altered my own perceptions and understanding. And I do not merely mean things like the annual viewing of <span><i>The Nightmare Before Christmas</i></span> taking much longer than usual, with an array of pauses for diverse things. No; while that was certainly a noticeable effect, it is merely a symptom of something much larger. From here on and at the very least for a while, Christmas will once more become a children's holiday, viewed through the eyes of a child, and filled with all imaginable magic and wonder. So, maybe the British are spot on, in acknowledging Santa's paternal role in the children's celebrations.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Of course, Santa has other names to; which opens up nicely for a segue into associative digression #2.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The name Santa Clause itself is obviously a version of the longer Saint Nicholas. With that in mind, it would be easy to assume that the "nickname" (<span style="font-size:85%;">pun half intended</span>) Old Nick was one of Santa's, but alas, one would be ever so wrong in assuming that. Old Nick is, in fact, an old elliptical way of referring to the Devil, who also is a child of many names. One of these names, much publicised by Milton, is Satan. In Christmas times like these, however, it is hard not to recognise that the latter is merely a misspelling of Santa (<span style="font-size:85%;">or vice versa</span>), which leaves a lot of unanswered questions to be pondered. And mayhap the reference of Old Nick is not quite so clear, nor the implied referent so erroneous, as originally suggested.</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But let us wrap these ramblings up and return to my initial query (<span style="font-size:85%;">for all good things come in threes</span>): what <i>do </i>you call Santa's little helpers?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Well, naturally they are all sub-clauses.</div></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Merry Xmas!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe width="340" height="280" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/uomn05p-2LM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-90099429625097451472011-12-12T12:00:00.011+01:002012-01-13T18:11:24.919+01:00On Adaptation Revisited: Fidelity, Quality and Translation<div><div style="text-align: justify;">In the past week, I attended a doctoral colleague's work-in-progress seminar, which touches on one of my interests: adaptation. Now, old readers know that I have written <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.com/2010/09/on-adaptation.html">on adaptation</a> in here before (<span style="font-size:85%;">and also on the related question of <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.com/2010/03/what-is-medium-on-material-and-non.html">what constitutes a medium</a></span>), but the seminar made me think about a few things yet again and it seemed appropriate to revisit the subject.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The seminar once more revealed the seemingly great bogeyman of adaptation studies and theories: the issue of fidelity. For some reason, this issue is deemed very problematic, and has people twisting themselves every which way to avoid it. I cannot help but ask why? In truth, to my mind, the issue is much less problematic than most of these critics and theoreticians seem to think, and I will explain why.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Regardless of what medium one adapts from and to, there is a need to distinguish the process of adaptation from the resulting adaptation. The former is arguably an act of translation, a word which etymologically comes from the Latin <i>translatus, </i>i.e. literally "carried across" (<span style="font-size:85%;">see <a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/translate?show=0&t=1323337518"><i>Merriam-Webster</i></a></span>). However, as has been noted many times, the act of translation (<span style="font-size:85%;">whether between languages or media</span>) is never a simple process of transfer, but one that <i>always</i>, without exception, involves change on some level. The etymology of the word "adaptation" (<span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/adapt">"<span class="Apple-style-span">from Latin <i>adaptare</i>, from <i>ad</i>- + <i>aptare </i>to fit, from <i>aptus </i>apt, fit</span>"</a></span>) is arguably a good indication of this aspect, as the idea that necessary changes occur in the process can be seen as the result of the act of fitting something into a different language or medium, and act of metaphorical tailoring attached to the process of the transfer of content. The resulting adaptation, however, is never just a result of that process; it is also a narrative object in its own right.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So what do I mean with this distinction and why do I stress it? Well, the process of translating anything — whether it is translating a text in Swedish to English, or a narrative in literature to film — implies a given source material that needs to be carried across a void of difference, from one language or medium to another; ultimately being fitted into its new location. As such, fidelity can arguably be seen as the mark of a successful process: Was the material carried across adequately; and was it made to fit its new language or medium?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">However, fidelity in itself will never tell us if the resulting narrative object is any good. Arguably, one could conceivably transfer and adapt properly (<span style="font-size:85%;">to use <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.com/2010/09/on-adaptation.html">Brian McFarlane's distinctions</a></span>) more or less <i>everything </i>from the source text into the new object (<span class="Apple-style-span">if you will</span>), but without making that object a good one. Sticking to the classic example of adaptation from literature to film, this would basically mean turning a good book into a faithfully adapted but ultimately poor film.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Please note that I am not saying that faithful adaptation is impossible. I am merely pointing out the rather obvious, yet sometimes quite forgotten truth, that fidelity is not a mark of qualitative narrative. In fact, I think that it is this very forgetfulness that haunts adaptation studies and causes the rather unnatural twists and turns in the discourse in trying to shun notions of fidelity and a source text. It is not that the narrative object to come out of the process is not tied into a web of intertext all its own, but clearly the fact that we talk about it as an adaptation of another text means that one of its intertexts is singled out and heavily emphasised. To pretend otherwise seems to be missing something very fundamental about the process.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Similarly, to merely point out failure to be faithful is equally missing the point. The core question here is rather why than what. This is where formalist theories like McFarlane's is so useful. It allows us to delineate what can be transferred (<span style="font-size:85%;">rather simplistically</span>) and what requires adaptation proper (<span style="font-size:85%;">i.e. medium specific changes</span>). Needless to say really, the process at very least mostly involves changes that strictly speaking are not necessary (<span style="font-size:85%;">from the point of view of possibilities in the target medium</span>) and those instances (<span style="font-size:85%;">like those of adaptation proper, I would argue</span>) are what is truly interesting. They are what gives us insights into dimensions beyond the media specific, let us call them societal dimensions to the processes of translation and adaptation. These include ideological, economic, cultural, and even individual-related factors; because an adaptation is never only a question of transfer, or even of making a good narrative object for that matter. (<span style="font-size:85%;">The latter obviously not being unique to the process of adaptation, but a condition it shares with all artistic endeavours to various degrees</span>.)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Art is always produced in an historical and cultural context; it involves individuals in existing ideological and economic systems. Granted that some media are less dependent upon the latter (<span style="font-size:85%;">e.g. literature in its rawest form</span>) than others (<span style="font-size:85%;">e.g. film-making</span>). It would be foolish to think these factors would not also affect the processes of translation and adaptation, just as it would be foolish to assume that the effect itself would be identical (<span style="font-size:85%;">in a heterogenous fashion, I will grant you</span>) to the production of art that does not involve these processes. From an academic point of view, however, these questions would seem not only highly relevant and interesting, but also something that ought to be situated at the very core of adaptation studies.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In short, I think adaptation studies, theory and theorists need to get over both their reluctance towards fidelity and source material, and their willingness to let these concepts blur all boundaries.</div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-77819508307034348922011-11-28T12:00:00.010+01:002012-01-13T18:15:25.884+01:00Recommendation for Writers: Duotrope<div style="text-align: justify;">Apropos of last post's focus on writing, I thought it appropriate to follow up with brief recommendation of a great writer's resource: <a href="http://www.duotrope.com/"><i>Duotrope</i></a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This resource (<span style="font-size:85%;">originally recommended to me by Swedish author <a href="http://karintidbeck.wordpress.com/">Karin Tidbeck</a></span>) offers not only an easy way of keeping track of your submissions, but is also an excellent tool in helping you find the appropriate market for a piece of fiction (<span style="font-size:85%;">in terms of content, length, payment, etc</span>). Obviously, you need to look beyond <i>Duotrope </i>too, but I for one would rather look into the submission guidelines of magazines of definite interest rather than searching through the entire forest of (<span style="font-size:85%;">both real and faux</span>) options manually each time for any given piece.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Try it yourselves!</div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-68378689039289329362011-11-14T12:00:00.008+01:002011-11-14T12:00:06.898+01:00Writing as Mosaic, or: Grammar in the World of Fiction<div style="text-align: justify;">This month is <a href="http://nanowrimo.org/">National Novel Writing Month</a> (<span style="font-size:85%;">NaNoWriMo</span>), which means that a lot of people are spending their time committing words to paper, or screen as it were, this month. While I am not one of them, I nevertheless thought it appropriate to discuss writing in this week's post.<br /><br />As mentioned already in late <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.com/2011/06/author-creator-or-creative-vessel.html">June</a>, I taught a creative writing class this summer, with a focus on more sustained types of writing (<span style="font-size:85%;">or lengthier writing, if you will</span>). In the wake of this, I have pondered some issues concerning writing more than I normally do. One of the things that keeps popping up in my head is the question of the relation between the writer and language. This issue is deeply linked to questions of writing as art and/or craft.<br /><br />Is writing something that can be taught? Can it even be learned? Well, obviously no human being was ever born with the ability to write, so the question might seem null and void even before we phrase it; yet we do struggle with two separate views on the writer: that of the artist born with the gift of genius and creativity, and that of the craftsman who has learned the mechanics of the writing process. Personally, I do not think this is an either-or binary. There are people who seem to have been born with a certain talent, to be sure, but they tend to benefit from learning the craft of their talent. Similarly, people without <span style="font-style: italic;">any </span>talent for it never seem to make as prosperous use of the craft they do learn as those in the first category do. Needless to say, really, neither category is black and white either, so it is not a case of having talent or not, or having learned the craft or not, but rather one of degrees in both areas, and how they intersect in any given writer.<br /><br />So, where am I going with this? Well, the more I have thought about it, the more I have come to see the process of writing through a metaphor of a mosaic or even Lego. A writer has to start with an idea, but that idea needs to be communicated to the world. This means we need to apply language, but not just any language. Fiction writing certainly requires use of regular language, but also a higher level of grammar; narrative grammar, if you will. Especially the longer your writing becomes, the more important it is to understand the inherent structures of narrative and how to use them.<br /><br />Does this mean that there is really only craft and no creativity? Of course not, and this is where the metaphor of the mosaic comes in handy. The craft is all about learning to recognise narrative structures and understand grammar in practice. The pieces of mosaic or Lego is language and how to bind these elements together is the narrative structures I talk about. The creative part lies in deciding on the motif you want the mosaic to show, and that could be just about anything a person could imagine (<span style="font-size:85%;">not even the sky is the limit here</span>). However, even if you have the greatest motif imaginable in mind, chances are that your mosaic will fall apart, be jagged and jarring, or not even be remotely akin to what was in your mind. This is where technique, or craft, comes in. It is a tool for the writer to analyse what needs to be done in any given writing situation.<br /><br />I am not suggesting that all writing problems have one singular solution, far from it, but you would not start building a house without a blueprint and expect a solid structure at the end of the process. Similarly you would not expect a great house if you had no understanding of the materials used in constructing it. And yet, a lot of people seem to think that writers can generate organic wholes without any other effort than sitting down to type. Sure, there are people who work more freely than others who plan and plot meticulously, but I do not think it a great exaggeration that those in the former category often have more rewriting to do in the other end. If not more, then at the very least of a very different (<span style="font-size:85%;">and arguably more substantial</span>) kind.<br /><br />It is conceivable that some people internalise such structuring, possibly by having a talent for that, to a point where this process becomes <span style="font-style: italic;">less </span>visible, and therefore seemingly working itself out. Just as some people start with a better ear for language.<br /><br />When all is said and done, there are many ways of reaching the same result here, as long as one understands what the process is supposed to be about; that it is about understanding the components and what will hold them together.<br /><br />A case in point would be the creative use of language. Grammatical correctness quite naturally does not have the same function in fiction writing as in, say, academic writing. Fiction writing does not frown on sentence fragments per se; it does not disavow any writer who feels compelled to break every capitalisation rule known to man. That having been said, writers must really know their language, because the style does effect the reading of a text.<br /><br />Sentence fragments are a good example. They can be used with great efficiency, because punctuation does not always mimic thought or speech effectively when grammatically correct. But if sentence fragments causes grammatical reference to be lost, a text suddenly starts breaking apart. In essence, this means that while writers do not need to adhere to grammatical correctness, they need to be aware of it. They need to understand the difference between creating a staccato effect or contemplative pauses, and losing coherence in the text. As I said to some of my students on occasion, while one might want to have a reader go back and reread a sentence for purely aesthetic reasons,* one never <span style="font-style: italic;">ever </span>wants any reader to back because the language is too unclear for something basic, like who did what to whom, to be understood. Simply put, the latter is just sloppy work.<br /><br />Similarly, while there are plenty of grammatical "incorrectness" that does not cause such breakdowns, as a rule of thumb, it is still good to know and understand what one is working against (<span style="font-size:85%;">i.e. the existing, accepted grammar</span>) and also to contemplate what not adhering to any given grammatical rule means. To illustrate, one can generate a strong character voice, a certain idiolect, by creating a slightly skewed grammar for that character, but one also needs to understand that that idiolect will have bearing on how readers interpret the character. And that is the important key here: how we express ourselves in writing (<span style="font-size:85%;">and not just fiction writing</span>) does have effects. Breaking the right grammatical rule can have a great effect in any text, but unless one operates by blind luck, it usually helps to at least have a clue as to what one is doing.<br /><br />At the end of the day, it is probably true that not everyone can be a great writer. But I would argue that it is equally true that everyone (<span style="font-size:85%;">even great writers</span>) can become better.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">* I would also argue, in particular in narrative terms, that sentences that are too aesthetically pleasing (i.e. that causes your reader to go back to reread them) can be very counter-productive. After all, narrative is all about generating sequences of events and actions; continuous breaks in the narrative flow are therefore not necessarily the best way of achieving a coherent whole. </span><br /></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-47690418218837197552011-10-31T12:00:00.025+01:002011-10-31T12:00:00.910+01:00Mar-Vell, Warlock and an Infinite Saga: Jim Starlin's Cosmic Marvel Universe<div style="text-align: justify;">I probably came in contact with some of his work long before I was aware of who Jim Starlin was (<span style="font-size:85%;">e.g. <span style="font-style: italic;">Batman: A Death in the Family</span></span>), but when I became aware I became an instant fan.<br /><br />It must have been in 1990 or 1991. I had just a year or so earlier switched to buying and reading US comics in original rather than in Swedish translation, and I was still following the superhero scene (<span style="font-size:85%;">which I would more or less abandon</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> for a very long time </span><span style="font-size:85%;">within a few years</span>). This naturally meant that DC and Marvel were part of my monthly purchases (<span style="font-size:85%;">the latter for the most part, what with my being something of a Marvel man at the core</span>) and Jim Starlin made his comeback at Marvel with his <span style="font-style: italic;">Infinity </span>trilogy, involving characters he had created or made his mark upon in the 70s, like<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGS9XnBKVWUML7QnkbJREKiiKCt46y9_4GeXXk0zg0gDAMyp4UCBhepOgM16X1bS4M2nWCeiGDulX_-i6eiAu0D0Kc9AHEgKyhMDZxameTVXIQaS8RCWuzwT0wR9niArgWobkXI-lGnQ/s1600/Thanos+in+Warlock.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGS9XnBKVWUML7QnkbJREKiiKCt46y9_4GeXXk0zg0gDAMyp4UCBhepOgM16X1bS4M2nWCeiGDulX_-i6eiAu0D0Kc9AHEgKyhMDZxameTVXIQaS8RCWuzwT0wR9niArgWobkXI-lGnQ/s320/Thanos+in+Warlock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669407185552538594" border="0" /></a> Adam Warlock, Pip the Troll, Gamora, the most dangerous woman in the universe, and, of course, Thanos of Titan (<span style="font-size:85%;">quite conceivably Starlin's crowning achievement</span>). My love and appreciation for these characters and the cosmic story arcs spun around them had me not only follow their adventures as they were released at the time, but also had me tracking down those glorious stories from the 70s, and much more besides. All in all making me a Starlin fan for life.<br /><br />So, why do I bring this up now? Well, I found it appropriate, as I have been revisiting some of this material of late — from Starlin's first not-so-tentative steps into the cosmic superhero genre (<span style="font-size:85%;">which he helped shape and define</span>) in the pages of <i>Captain Marvel</i> (<span style="font-size:85%;">nicely collected, for instance, in <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0785130152/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0785130152">Marvel Masterworks: Captain Marvel Vol. 3</a> and <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/078514627X/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=078514627X">The Death of Captain (Marvel Premiere)</a>: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">see reviews <a href="http://www.blogger.com/various%20then%20Starlin%20%28not%20writer%20from%20the%20start%29%20http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/208033773">here</a> and <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/219774658">here</a></span>), where he introduced Thanos, a nihilist, whose only love proved to be death, and Drax <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqcPaN0ZRnNILUJ2E6pEG_m0f4bhTgly8BtJCV6tB2QPjcHAjOilGc2kCPlwZrz-TeIY3NMjag9xBQpKRfFofr83j4UqfseB4_eTFLf7PCKFl-1M1wawVajOZc6pS260juq4u2R4oO6hY/s1600/1000924-captain_marvel_v1___31___17_super.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqcPaN0ZRnNILUJ2E6pEG_m0f4bhTgly8BtJCV6tB2QPjcHAjOilGc2kCPlwZrz-TeIY3NMjag9xBQpKRfFofr83j4UqfseB4_eTFLf7PCKFl-1M1wawVajOZc6pS260juq4u2R4oO6hY/s320/1000924-captain_marvel_v1___31___17_super.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669408496231184706" border="0" /></a>the Destroyer, a being animated only for the purpose of killing the former; through his superb <i>Warlock</i> saga (<span style="font-size:85%;">collected in full in <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0785135111/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0785135111">Marvel Masterworks: Warlock Vol. 2</a>: see review <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/184892989">here</a></span>), where he continued his cosmic work and built an even more cosmic mythology; to the <span style="font-style: italic;">Infinity </span>trilogy itself and its preludes (<span style="font-size:85%;">collected in <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0785144781/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0785144781">Silver Surfer: Rebirth of Thanos</a>, <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0785156593/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0785156593">Infinity Gauntlet</a>, <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0785121056/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0785121056">Infinity War</a>, and <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0785131272/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0785131272">Infinity Crusade Vol. 1</a> and <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0785131280/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0785131280">Vol. 2</a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.co.uk/e/ir?t=thuspathemigw-21&l=as2&o=2&a=0785131280" alt="" style="border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important; font-style: italic;" height="1" width="1" border="0" />: see reviews <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/186298671">here</a>, <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/186926932">here</a>, and <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/189897927">here</a> and </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/189898357">here</a></span>), in which Starlin showed that he was still unparalleled as a writer in the cosmic superhero genre.<br /><br />Granted that this is not Starlin's sole contribution to comics in general, or even the cosmic superhero genre in particular, but at this particular instance it seemed appropriate to showcase his importance to the cosmic side of the Marvel universe. He built on the foundation created by the likes of Stan Lee, Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko, to be sure, but he made an unquestionable mark by building a strong mythology upon that foundation.<br /><br />Was it unique? Well, it would be silly not to acknowledge that Starlin borrowed heavily from various sources, including Kirby's <span style="font-style: italic;">Fourth World</span> and Michael Moorcock's Elric of Melniboné. Nevertheless, Thanos is more than a mere Darkseid clone. His motivation throughout these stories, his love and adoration for Mistress Death, makes him a character in his own right. Similarly, Starlin's transformation of Adam Warlock into an idealistic anarchist bound to his vampire-like Soul Gem appears to have roots in Elric of Melniboné and his soul-sucking black rune blade Stormbringer, but Warlock too transcends the similarities, at least to the degree where it would be possible to think of him as another (<span style="font-size:85%;">cosmic</span>) avatar of Moorcock's fictional archetype, the Eternal Champion.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimQNGJFlGSbdCbGta14M1HuQ4wP8fPM_IHUKb7GH_ILw6IjFCFP0Qlv2c6V20qO7IVENywnu1sqqP6CCBWA8pFHeerardFO-V28xdGFEJA-Q2Z5khRBAoph9iXgsa5nGaG8ERuANae8j8/s1600/BadDayForAdamWarlock.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimQNGJFlGSbdCbGta14M1HuQ4wP8fPM_IHUKb7GH_ILw6IjFCFP0Qlv2c6V20qO7IVENywnu1sqqP6CCBWA8pFHeerardFO-V28xdGFEJA-Q2Z5khRBAoph9iXgsa5nGaG8ERuANae8j8/s320/BadDayForAdamWarlock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669407639401459138" border="0" /></a><br />In short, Starlin's mythology is believable, at least in part, because it is <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> new; because it <span style="font-style: italic;">is</span> made of the recyclable stuff of myth. Yet also because it was done in a new way and did offer us more than that which Starlin drew upon.<br /><br />In recent years, two writers have emerged over at Marvel, who shows an understanding of the cosmic superhero genre that, perhaps, equals Starlin's. They are Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning, and with successful runs on <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0785126317/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0785126317">Nova</a> and <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0785133380/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0785133380">Guardians Of The Galaxy</a>, culminating in the mini series <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0785149023/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0785149023">The Thanos Imperative</a>, they have not only brought back characters associated with Starlin, but have used them in a manner that positions them as natural heirs to Starlin's cosmic narrative tradition.<br /><br />I am sure I will be discussing both other Starlin material (<span style="font-size:85%;">e.g. his creator-owned series </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Dreadstar</span>) and the work of Abnett and Lanning in the future, but for now, this will have to do.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWfGamBxSsMY-p-Vbdui7TPp7YZR_Tr0Ipnpp5HRAXMq6hj91Ikw42lQ8Z-MPfRPZ2Zxf2MTICXT83f0IvbQMGYgF4TKZqexGkgRww-Y7ZBCHjdBSYRnp8N3t3PenCd8L-f85ZtoVEVe4/s1600/1158481-thanos_13_super.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 315px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWfGamBxSsMY-p-Vbdui7TPp7YZR_Tr0Ipnpp5HRAXMq6hj91Ikw42lQ8Z-MPfRPZ2Zxf2MTICXT83f0IvbQMGYgF4TKZqexGkgRww-Y7ZBCHjdBSYRnp8N3t3PenCd8L-f85ZtoVEVe4/s320/1158481-thanos_13_super.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669413066380278738" border="0" /></a></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-27091486282996867382011-10-17T12:00:00.009+02:002011-10-17T12:00:01.155+02:00Post #100: Really, Honestly, I Did the Maths<div style="text-align: justify;">"<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">And so we reach a milestone: this is the one-hundredth post on Thus Spake the Mighty Wha-keem. That is, with this post I have written one-hundred posts since I started posting back in May of 2009, and I am obviously still at it.</span>"<br /><br />If I had written those two lines today, all would have been well. Unfortunately they were written at the end of March this year in the erroneous <span style="font-style: italic;">faux</span> "<a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.com/2011/03/post-100-or-when-is-q-9.html">Post #100: Or, When Is a Q a 9?</a>"; the content of which I am still rather pleased with, despite its flawed basic numerical premise. While I did not notice the error until May, when I dutifully reported it in <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.com/2011/05/musings-of-mad-swede-year-two.html">my summary of my second year as a blogger</a>, I will say in my defence that I had already managed to, quite unintentionally, and most certainly ironically, include the line "<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">I am neither turning into a mathematician nor a numerologist,</span>" in the post itself. Obviously, I knew what I was talking about.<br /><br />Nevertheless, here we are. Again. For the first time.<br /><br />It would seem appropriate to talk about numerical things yet again, but racking my brain seems to yield no fruitful results. Titles fly past my mind's eye: Gabriel García Márquez' <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/014118499X/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=014118499X">One Hundred Years of Solitude</a>, which I am sad to say I have yet to read (<span style="font-size:85%;">although, am simultaneously happy that I have yet to read; go figure!</span>); Brian Azzarello's <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0857688871/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0857688871">100 Bullets</a>, a Vertigo series I have not read either (<span style="font-size:85%;">although I am thinking of picking up now as the whole series is starting to be collected in nice hardcover editions</span>); <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B001D16414/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B001D16414">Numb3rs</a>, a TV series of which I have seen and enjoyed at least the first two seasons (<span style="font-size:85%;">although not to the degree that I really feel I want to write about it at any greater length here</span>). So... what then?<br /><br />Well, while I have not yet had a chance to read it, I did recently pick up a book that not only seems very interesting, but also fits the criteria to be mentioned here: Alex Bellos' <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/1408809591/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=1408809591">Alex's Adventures in Numberland</a>. This is a book about mathematics, (<span style="font-size:85%;">at the very least seemingly</span>) written to gain the discipline more fans; or perhaps it is more of a love letter for us non-mathematicians to better understand the beauty of numbers. I guess I will know for sure when I get the time to read the book.<br /><br />And while we are at it... I would also like to recommend a very good film that also seems appropriate (<span style="font-size:85%;">and which I incidentally have not seen in a day and an age myself</span>): Darren Aronofsky's early and weird b&w gem <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00004D0C6/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B00004D0C6">Pi</a>. This film is all about mathematics and numerology, and the greater mysteries of the universe hidden in the endless string of post-decimal-point numbers in the mathematical constant that the Greek letter π (<span style="font-size:85%;">i.e. pi</span>) symbolises. Well worth watching, albeit certainly not for everyone's pallet.<br /></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-47727318389240477962011-10-06T12:00:00.003+02:002011-10-06T12:00:06.317+02:00Five Seminars, Four Mini-Seminars, Nine Signed Books, One Piece of Original Comicbook Art and Four Days: The Göteborg Book Fair 2011<div style="text-align: justify;">So, this year's theme at the Göteborg Book Fair was German language literature (<span style="font-size:85%;">i.e. a focus on German, Austrian and Swiss literature in practice</span>) and I managed to catch at least two seminars related to it.<br /><br />The first one was the seminar "Bra och dåliga böcker" (<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans: Good and bad books</span>) in which German critic Kristina Maidt-Zinke discussed the role of literary criticism with Swedish critics Jens Christian Brundt and Ingrid Elam (<span style="font-size:85%;">the latter moderating the discussion</span>), comparing cultural differences between Germany and Sweden. The seminar was interesting and pointed to the fact that German criticism is given greater space in the papers than in Sweden, but also indicated that this fact in and of itself need not necessarily indicate that this criticism is more well-read or important outside of the same circles as its Swedish equivalent. However, the space does allow for more in-depth reviews and a different approach to the subject of criticism in any given instance.<br /><br />The second German-related seminar I attended was on Friday: "Gillar alla barn Pippi" (<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans. Does All Children Like Pippi?</span>), in which moderator Janina Orlov spoke with Rachel van Kooij (<span style="font-size:85%;">Holland, Austria</span>), Cecilia Östlund (<span style="font-size:85%;">Sweden</span>), Gabrielle Alioth (<span style="font-size:85%;">Switzerland</span>), Nadia Budde (<span style="font-size:85%;">Germany</span>), and Cornelia Funke (<span style="font-size:85%;">Germany</span>) about Astrid Lindgren's Pippi Longstocking as a cultural icon and the importance of myths in children's literature. Funke interestingly noted the inherent problems of using myth in German literature, as a cultural fallout of the Nazis appropriation of that kind of symbolically charged material. After hearing her talk, I was really sad that I had skipped her own seminar the previous day; something I had done simply because she had been paired up with an historically proven bad moderator/interviewer (<span style="font-size:85%;">which I have quite frankly no desire ever seeing in action again</span>). However, I have heard that the seminar went really well, mostly because Funke refused to submit to this bad interviewers premises, told her off and went ahead to present a brilliant seminar under her own control (<span style="font-size:85%;">yes, I really, really regret missing <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span>, I confess</span>).<br /><br />The discussion on the seminar I did attend also covered question about fashion and trends in children's literature, and who decides what is fashionable or trendy: readers, bookshops, publishers, or writers? While no real answer was provided, I think it's safe to say that all of these (<span style="font-size:85%;">to different degrees</span>) act upon the stage of the literary market to set up the conditions for that. And that, I would argue, holds true for all publishing (<span style="font-size:85%;">and quite likel</span><span style="font-size:85%;">y other cultural production like film, comics and music as well</span>).<br /><br />Outside of the German language theme, I visited a few more seminars this year (<span style="font-size:85%;">albeit fewer than usual, for various reasons</span>). Friday was clearly my busiest day and included two more dips into the field of children's literature.<br /><br />First I attended the mini-seminar "Att skriva och illustrera för barn" <span style="font-size:85%;">(Eng. trans. Writing and Illustrating for Children</span>), in which the moderator, Swedish publisher Birgitta Westin, talked with children's book creators Emma Adbåge and Pija Lindenbaum. Both author-illustrators showed samples of both old and new work. I am a fan of Lindenbaum's work since before, but was not familiar with Adbåge's. It too is impressive, and I will probably check it out down the line, but what really struck me was how more or less directly autobiographical her work seemed, and the lack of distance she had to her working process. This is not necessarily a bad thing. Being a good literary scholar does not necessarily make a good writer, or vice versa, but it does become somewhat annoying when there is an attempt at a more theoretical and analytical discussion that sadly seems off-key as it were. Lindenbaum by contrast presented herself as sharp and more theoretically aware. For instance, when posed with the core question of the seminar, she defined the difference in writing for children very acutely as "<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">writing without grown-ups' frame of reference,</span>" and also discussed children's as-of-yet unfixed view of the boundaries between fantasy and reality.<br /><br />Secondly I attended the seminar "Den politiskt (in)korrekta barnboken" (<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans. The Politically (In)correct Children's Book</span>), in which Janina Orlov lead a discussion with illustrator Anna Höglund, (<span style="font-size:85%;">Sweden</span>), writer Ulf Stark (<span style="font-size:85%;">Sweden</span>), critic Ulla Rhedin (<span style="font-size:85%;">Sweden</span>), children's book creator Timo Parvela (<span style="font-size:85%;">Finland</span>), and poet and controversial maker of children's books Oskar K (<span style="font-size:85%;">Denmark</span>). While the topic sounded more than promising on paper, this was one of the lowest points of this year's seminars. The time was very unevenly distributed between the participants, which is not necessarily in and of itself a problem, but in this case was disastrous.<br /><br />The two most dominating voices in the room were Oskar K and Ulla Rhedin. The former spoke a very thick Danish that I was not alone in having a hard time following (<span style="font-size:85%;">e.g. Anna Höglund, when responding to something, politely pointed out that sh</span><span style="font-size:85%;">e was not quite certain what he had said, at all</span>), and after a while in most of his monologues, it became impossible to tune out. Rhedin on the other hand, a scholar with a doctorate in children's literature, kept throwing around very abstract academic theory and terminology of the kind that quite frankly makes this particular literary scholar ashamed. As a consequence, most of her contribution had no real roots anywhere in the discussion or the subject of the discussion. By comparison, Höglund's contributions (<span style="font-size:85%;">sadly far too few and too short</span>) were insightful, as were those of Timo Parvela (<span style="font-size:85%;">who impressed me the most of the people on the panel</span>). Unfortunately, Parvela spoke in Finnish, with Orlov acting as interpreter, which meant that he did not get quite as much time, and that what he did get was all the more limited by having to be told twice.<br /><br />The worst failing of the seminar, however, was how swift the stated topic was abandoned. Instead of looking at possible tendencies of censorship by publishers and the market for fear of controversial decisions (<span style="font-size:85%;">and these do exist, as a seminar from a few years ago had markedly informed me about</span>), the debate quickly pointed out that "political correctness" isn't a good or selling term, but rather a derogatory one, and therefore it would seem strange that anyone would want to create such children's literature. The problem with this assessment (<span style="font-size:85%;">while true to a point</span>), to my mind at least, is that is fails to account for the more insidious nature of political correctness as it has come to develop. While it is true that no one, in any field, would really want to market themselves or their product as politically correct, this obviously does not mean that the politically incorrect is applauded or embraced. Rather we are in actuality faced with edited material. Jan Lööf has for example spoken about how publishers have asked him to redraw parts of illustration for children's books, even ones previously published, because of content being deemed as possibly offensive. As such an important subject to cover, one which was basically advertised in the seminar program, and one which was very quickly swept under the rug by the panel. For shame, say I.<br /><br />A more rewarding seminar was "Kolonialismens ansikte" (<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans. The Face of Colonialism</span>) in which Swedish writer Ola Larsmo spoke with Nobel Prize Laureate Mario Vargas Llosa about his latest novel <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0571275710/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0571275710">The Dream of the Celt</a></span>. The book is a fictional account of the life of Roger Casement, an Irishman who spent his life in service of the British Empire until his experiences in the Belgian Congo and South America led him to adapt a more radical idea about his native country: Ireland. Casement, who met Joseph Conrad in the Congo and was a great diplomat, was discredited towards the end of his life. Secret diaries depicting brutal homosexual orgies were confiscated and since homosexuality was a crime in Britain at the time, he was consequently prosecuted and found guilty. However, there is a controversy here as historians disagree as to whether or not the diaries were not written by Casement but rather used to frame him. In the interview, Vargas Llosa offered a third interpretation: that Casement may well have written the diaries, without having committed the acts. As a note (<span style="font-size:85%;">and without having read the full accounts of the diaries</span>), one might of course question whether the controversy should matter at all, and if the more telling point is that it in and of itself shows a rather nasty cultural (<span style="font-size:85%;">and legal</span>) view of homosexuality.<br /><br />My Friday ended, seminar-wise, with a mini-seminar about Cirkeln (<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans. The Circle</span>) by Mats Strandberg and <a href="http://0glorybox0.blogspot.com/">Sara Bergmark Elfgren</a>. Swedish writer <a href="http://neneormes.wordpress.com/">Nene Ormes</a> has spoken very favourably of this book, so I could not resist attending a seminar where both its authors talked about the book, and I certainly did not regret that decision. After a very interesting discussion on everything from how to write as a team to what the underlying ideas to their story about witches in a small, fictional Swedish community, I simply could not resist buying a copy of the book and getting it signed. It now resides in the ever-expanding to-be-read section, but is definitely something I look forward to reading.<br /><br />Saturday started with another mini-seminar, which somehow seemed to be a bit beside the point. In "Att vara politiskt eller historiskt korrekt" (<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans. To Be Politically or Historically Correct</span>) historian and novelist Dick Harrison talked to novelist Maria Gustavsdotter about anachronisms in fiction, and more specifically about how they themselves avoided them and to what results. Granted that it is interesting to look at anachronisms, but unlike its title, the seminar never really delved into issues relating to political correctness so much as, perhaps, sloppy historical research (<span style="font-size:85%;">or maybe even a certain attitude of not giving a damn with some writers</span>). In short, the "issue" was really settled from the start and therefore the seminar was slightly inconsistent with the stated topic. And somewhat boring as a result. A case in point would be when Harrison spoke of the old film <span style="font-style: italic;">The Lion in Winter</span>, declaring that what he remembered of it was that each scene was littered with anachronisms and that they had lovely dresses, only to later question why anyone would want to use a historical setting if they do not adhere to proper historical detail. The given answer seemed to me at least to be that maybe, just maybe, the writer or film maker wants to use the lovely dresses. And maybe, just maybe, that element does have an intrinsic value, in terms purely of storytelling.<br /><br />A much more interesting seminar was "Drömmar och verklighet" (<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans. Dreams and Reality</span>), in which moderator par excellence, Peter Whitebrook interviewed American writer Lionel Shriver. The discussion focused on Shriver latest novel <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0007271085/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0007271085">So Much for That</a></span> and the US healthcare system that it criticises, but also brought up her award-winning book <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/1846687349/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=1846687349">We Need To Talk About Kevin</a></span>. Shriver presented herself as a keen intellect with a somewhat harsh and cynical perspective on life. On the whole, I enjoyed the seminar a lot and is very interested in picking up either of the two mentioned books.<br /><br />The final mini-seminar I attended on Saturday (and, in fact, on the fair as a whole) was "Årets deckare" (Eng. trans. This Year's Crime Fiction) in which the Swedish Academy of Crime Fiction's Johan Wopenka introduced Lillian Fredriksson and Karl G. Fredriksson, who presented the translated and the original Swedish crime fiction of the past year respectively. It was a quick 20 minutes, as several book titles flew by, with very brief descriptions, but it was illuminating in terms of showing certain trends and both Fredrikssons were a good deal of fun in their respective performances.<br /><br />Sunday, as has been hinted, was left without any seminars attended. I intended to catch a few, but queues on the first one made me lose my interest and I spent the day on the floor instead.<br /><br />All in all, time spent on the floor on all days yielded good results as well: including, among other things, a signed copy of Erik Magntorn and <a href="http://woolrim.wordpress.com/">Lisa Sjöblom</a>'s beautiful little children's book, <span style="font-style: italic;">Hitta barnen!</span> (<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans. Find the Children!</span>), which kicks Waldo's butt quite severely in artistic terms, some nicely signed volumes of the collected edition of Peter Madsen's <span style="font-style: italic;">Valhalla </span>in Swedish, with great original artwork now adorning the first page in each, and a piece of original comic book art by Ola Skogäng, whom I also had sign (<span style="font-size:85%;">with some added drawings</span>) my copies of the first three volumes of his brilliant comic <span style="font-style: italic;">Theos ockulta kuriositeter </span>(<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans. Theos Occult Curio</span><span style="font-size:85%;">s</span>) – <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/109444950"><span style="font-style: italic;">Mumiens blod</span></a> (<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans. Blood of the Mummy</span>), <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/109446210"><span style="font-style: italic;">De förlorade sidornas bok</span></a> (<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans. The Book of Lost Pages</span>), and <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/182778491"><span style="font-style: italic;">I dödsskuggans dal</span></a> (<span style="font-size:85%;">Eng. trans. In the Valley of the Shadow of Death</span>).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">And on that particular note, I think I will leave you with a view of page 56 of <span style="font-style: italic;">De förlorade sidornas bok</span>.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH60j1P19D1cOpwUJweCmCb__iOZq489Eg_gKnMsfOf9HOoYl0QAAGqvNFe7_Je1BA2X2PYFdVmrIRLrmWVO8j9nkYazMurDMOFvfTpe7IgpA3R7Q7v4lJlSI7pWERjiKZZcumre_gEsk/s1600/IMG_0035.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH60j1P19D1cOpwUJweCmCb__iOZq489Eg_gKnMsfOf9HOoYl0QAAGqvNFe7_Je1BA2X2PYFdVmrIRLrmWVO8j9nkYazMurDMOFvfTpe7IgpA3R7Q7v4lJlSI7pWERjiKZZcumre_gEsk/s200/IMG_0035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660056038298320946" border="0" /></a><br /></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-39674818031857805802011-09-19T12:00:00.008+02:002011-09-19T12:00:09.570+02:00Books and Stuff: An In-between Posts Kind of PostOkay, so the past two weeks have been kind of crazy (<span style="font-size:85%;">on more levels than I care to remember</span>) and two different planned posts have had to be pushed forward simply because I have not had the time to do some much needed prep on either of them.<br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />However, before I start sounding like the kid who tells the teacher that the dog ate his homework, let me offer you this as an in-between posts kind of post. A good chunk of yesterday was spent browsing through the seminar schedule of the upcoming Göteborg Book Fair in order to decide, at least tentatively, what I should attend this year (<span style="font-size:85%;">the results should</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> obviously </span><span style="font-size:85%;">be in my next blog post</span>). Thus it does not seem entirely off to use this space on this occasion to promote some books; luckily, I have just read two fine specimens.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8brim3Ilg1Tde0zzJyDoBoHwbwSH4DnI-hdt-H6k6iDUBDlf2pAb5nrv3h_FQbwnDJhal-cspWsWQVvAIYIzkZhsgHsl_UsNPKyyyaYdPJ7KbqIkuPUh7fQN6GHdiFWLpbv9wkuZrPjU/s1600/first+blood.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8brim3Ilg1Tde0zzJyDoBoHwbwSH4DnI-hdt-H6k6iDUBDlf2pAb5nrv3h_FQbwnDJhal-cspWsWQVvAIYIzkZhsgHsl_UsNPKyyyaYdPJ7KbqIkuPUh7fQN6GHdiFWLpbv9wkuZrPjU/s200/first+blood.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653776384544201410" border="0" /></a><br />First off, I would like to recommend David Morrell's 1972 novel <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/075534667X/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=075534667X">First Blood</a> upon which the film of the same name was based. The novel is a tight thriller with political undercurrents and I recommend it warmly. For a more in-depth review, see the <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/206690644">one I put up on Goodreads</a>.<br /><br />The second <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpXecrK6dXACjPCNGoNOSSVDMnf3qPtvg8C0L-1gBBkjhflwO2ZWemIZLQY8BXCU7kKmPDFDfj_CFsePmzjT7ManAGZ9WTqtF9NK5NYsq1MJpfwgc45OH_tv5vZ9sw_-D9PvcGi5E5-8Y/s1600/the+reluctant+fundamentalist.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpXecrK6dXACjPCNGoNOSSVDMnf3qPtvg8C0L-1gBBkjhflwO2ZWemIZLQY8BXCU7kKmPDFDfj_CFsePmzjT7ManAGZ9WTqtF9NK5NYsq1MJpfwgc45OH_tv5vZ9sw_-D9PvcGi5E5-8Y/s200/the+reluctant+fundamentalist.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653776547744536498" border="0" /></a>novel is no less political (<span style="font-size:85%;">perhaps even more so</span>), but also no less emotional at its centre. <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/0141029544/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=0141029544">The Reluctant Fundamentalist</a> by Mohsin Hamid is a great piece of writing, and while it does not claim to be a thriller as the former novel, there is a compelling drive in the story, and a sort of mystery at the heart of it. For a more in-depth review, I once again refer you to <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/208886975">a full review on Goodreads</a>.<br /><br />Hopefully the full reviews will whet your appetites for these books. They are well worth your time.<br /></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-21751143895045770652011-09-05T12:00:00.009+02:002011-09-05T12:00:02.324+02:00Superman Goes Commando! (In a Manner of Speaking)<div style="text-align: justify;">On Saturday, I caught up with an (<span style="font-size:85%;">as per usual</span>) interesting blog post by Zaki Hasan from the previous day: "<a href="http://www.zakiscorner.com/2011/09/why-superman-needs-red-underoos.html">Why Superman Needs The Red Underoos</a>."
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<br />The post ties in with DC's latest stunt, a total company-wide reboot of their entire line and fictional universe (<span style="font-size:85%;">let's not even get started on that one</span>), and more specifically focuses on <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5k0JuOyxo6NJB3rVwhQs6VkamqT9K38aY1t5Ldq4LMZtKLZFYprmZARJ9ochmJp-WRDmbc0lkZ7HAb_FRpskfZUtuFjm266ssDLL66myVV2CJqE9SXUgik3ixAk2OXaKSdvhHAWX9oZ0/s1600/Jim+Lee+Superman.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5k0JuOyxo6NJB3rVwhQs6VkamqT9K38aY1t5Ldq4LMZtKLZFYprmZARJ9ochmJp-WRDmbc0lkZ7HAb_FRpskfZUtuFjm266ssDLL66myVV2CJqE9SXUgik3ixAk2OXaKSdvhHAWX9oZ0/s200/Jim+Lee+Superman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648609012513932530" border="0" /></a>their redesign of Superman. The man of the hour here is Jim Lee, who is the man responsible for rethinking and revamping an old faithful design (<span style="font-size:85%;">which has already, admittedly, seen some variations over the years, while nevertheless keeping a basic design intact</span>). Apparently, the first view of this new design can be seen in a single panel in the debut release of the rebooted <span style="font-style: italic;">Justice League</span> #1, and the most radical changes appear to be the addition of a collar and the loss of the otherwise ever-present red-underwear-on-the-outside.
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<br />Now, as Hasan points out, the red-underwear-on-the-outside has always been a point open to derision, but I could not agree more with his assessment that "<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">the red trunks (along with the yellow belt)</span> [...] <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">helped give a much-needed sense of visual balance</span>," which the Lee version clearly lacks.
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<br />However, the l<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr96omYoZ9o4f_hvCu_c6upajfcTo_e40-Jz8pf40LySbBg7ubYstCJqvvLtzqVAfzUXIWITOQWazGNYFNzlZ8YAnXgm2LXURt6oo_bPzvb2ooFxsgHWlea5HjrXq1zlOcLLe8ZyO3ovQ/s1600/Cavill+Superman+2.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 122px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr96omYoZ9o4f_hvCu_c6upajfcTo_e40-Jz8pf40LySbBg7ubYstCJqvvLtzqVAfzUXIWITOQWazGNYFNzlZ8YAnXgm2LXURt6oo_bPzvb2ooFxsgHWlea5HjrXq1zlOcLLe8ZyO3ovQ/s200/Cavill+Superman+2.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648609220017330642" border="0" /></a>oss of the red trunks is not limited to DC's reboot of the character. This week has also provided the first full frontal look of Henry Cavill in his Superman regalia. Cavill is the actor portraying the character in the upcoming <span style="font-style: italic;">Man of Steel</span>, directed by Zack Snyder and produced by Cristopher Nolan, and currently being filmed. (T<span style="font-size:85%;">he photo is from on-set, so the colour scheme is not necessarily a definite match to what the film will show, I hasten to add.</span>)
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<br />While the fact that this version (<span style="font-size:85%;">at least</span>) has no collar produces a less fascistic and more traditional looking hero, the lack of even a (<span style="font-size:85%;">wrongly</span>) coloured belt seems to underline Hasan's point about visual balance. However, there is more to it than that. Even discounting Cavill's somewhat awkward pose in this picture (<span style="font-size:85%;">which honestly looks quite a lot like a man in need of a bathroom break</span>),
<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"></span><blockquote><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">if we think of the traditional skintight superhero costume as a comic book shorthand for the perfected human form, then the need for modesty — and thus the whole "underwear on the outside" thing — starts making a lot more sense. Just look at Cavill's...*ahem*...area to understand what I'm talking about.</span></blockquote>I can but agree, yet again, with Hasan's assessment here.
<br /></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-59647531854821428202011-08-22T12:00:00.015+02:002011-08-22T12:00:11.969+02:00Understanding Culture 101<div style="text-align: justify;">In the wake of the Utøya massacre and its insidious perpetrator, the ever ongoing debate on multiculturalism is a hot topic once again. And as always, when certain political factions or elements start debating this concept and its inherent evil, I do not know whether to laugh or cry. Because it is a simple fact that culture is never clean nor monolithic. Not even when it tries to be.
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<br />On one level, defining cultures requires a consensus and set parameters to define the specificity of one compared to another. However, most of the political factions interested in this are actually not so much interested in consensus as in being able to provide the vision to govern the definition. The reason for this is, of course, always to separate <span style="font-style: italic;">us </span>from <span style="font-style: italic;">them </span>and clearly establish the difference between ourselves and our Other(s). But anyone who tries to define a cultural enclave in this manner will <span style="font-style: italic;">always </span>(<span style="font-size:85%;">without exception</span>) stumble on the finishing line. No matter how narrow the parameters are made, it is impossible to exclude all those one wanted to exclude, and the narrower the parameters are set, one also increases the equally inevitable risk of excluding people one wanted to include. In short, whatever makes up any definition of any culture can never be absolute, <span style="font-style: italic;">or </span>entirely fixed for the matter.
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<br />This does not necessarily mean that we should abandon cultural definitions altogether, but it should make us aware of the imprecision in their natures.
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<br />So, what does this mean? Simply put, culture is something that arises in social contexts, in inter-individual meetings, when the ego means an Other. Furthermore, this central metaphor also expands to an intercultural usage (<span style="font-size:85%;">if you will pardon the confusion for a second</span>). That is to say, when one imprecise cultural definition meets an Other imprecise cultural definition, new cultural references arise in that meeting. This is unavoidable, because culture is both resilient and innovative in its nature.
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<br />Do not get me wrong. The equation is obviously not that simple. If it was, colonialism and imperialism would never have been a problem. The difference here is that colonialism and imperialism is not so much about a meeting between cultures as one culture violently attacking another. The main factor here has to do with power, and it can arguably be invoked on any situation where one cultural enclave uses force to apply its own cultural definition over others; either to dominate them or to eradicate them. And even in such instances, history has proven that the meeting is not unilateral anyway. There is an old saying that claims that you are what you eat, and apparently even colonisers and empires are affected by what they devour and digest.
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<br />But this is not the case here in Sweden (<span style="font-size:85%;">nor I would dare argue, in most European countries or in the US for that matter</span>). Islamic culture (<span style="font-size:85%;">because as always since at the very least 9/11, this debate is about Western civilisation (and possibly Christianity) being overrun by Islam</span>) is not in any position of power here. Nor, differently put, in any position of power greater than any other minority (<span style="font-size:85%;">and most certainly not greater than any majority</span>). Swedish culture (<span style="font-size:85%;">whatever that is</span>) is not overrun by excessive Islamic references or specific values. If anything, one could argue that Swedish culture or identity runs a greater risk of being overrun by Anglo-American values, but you rarely hear political groups like the Sweden Democrats complain about that type of cultural import as opposed to favouring Swedish culture.
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<br />And I would bet that they eat pizza as well. After all, pizza could arguably be seen as rather typical Swedish food. In fact, you cannot go anywhere in Sweden without finding a pizzeria. This is more or less true for any small town in the country, but this was obviously not always the case. Nor do we need to go very far back in history to find a time when it certainly was not (<span style="font-size:85%;">the mid-20th century saw the introduction of pizza into Swedish culture, and it was not an immediate success either</span>). Similarly, the epitome of Swedish food – the Swedish meatball – is Turkish in origin, and was integrated into Swedish cuisine much like the pizza, only a couple of centuries earlier.
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<br />In short, the notion that the multicultural society is something new is a myth. Culture has always been a mongrel dog of many mixed breeds. And that is partly what keeps it alive.
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<br />I am not saying that there are no values to traditions. I am, however, suggesting that we have to understand that traditions themselves are never entirely fixed. We may talk about how a proper Swedish Christmas should be spent, for instance, but in all honesty, if we define <span style="font-style: italic;">proper </span>as "the way they were celebrated 100 years ago" (<span style="font-size:85%;">a fairly short amount of time for judging these things</span>), I honestly wonder how many of us truly do. Or perhaps even more strongly, how many of us even know what that would actually entail? And that is not even taking into account local variations. In more cases than not, our strongest sense of <span style="font-style: italic;">our </span>traditions are our own memories of how things is or was, specifically for us.
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<br />Much like language, culture is a living thing. What was will not always be what is; nor will what will be be guaranteed to last forever. Culture is an ocean of ideas, values and traditions, mixing and mingling as the waves and the tides move. And we are creatures adrift on those mighty waters, sometimes pretending that we are in control of their movements.
<br /></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-73325074109055521982011-08-08T13:00:00.002+02:002011-08-08T13:00:07.982+02:00An Eye for an Eye: Contemplations on the Death Penalty in the Wake of Utøya<div style="text-align: justify;">Are there crimes that conceivably could warrant the death penalty?
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<br />Yesterday, I read an <a href="http://www.sydsvenskan.se/kultur-och-nojen/article1521297/Ann-Heberlein-om-Breiviks-straff.html">article</a> by Ann Heberlein in a Swedish newspaper (<span style="font-size:85%;">i.e. the link is in Swedish</span>) on the inherent problems in punishing crimes on the level of the Utøya massacre. Heberlein, who has a PhD in theology and has written books on ethics, evil and forgiveness, enters the debate in response to Ronnie Sandahl and Marcus Birro's respective contributions, both of whom strongly advocates the death penalty as the only reasonable punishment. Heberlein, leaning on both Hannah Arendt and Nietzsche, points to the fallacy of such reasoning in a very sound manner. There is no punishment strong enough to actually be proportionate and the deed itself is too horrible to ever be forgiven, she argues, but also points to the Nietzschean truism that we need to be careful so that our battling with monsters do not turn us into monsters ourselves when caught in this state of emotional impotence and turmoil.
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<br />Heberlein refers to Sandahl's reference to a SIFO (<span style="font-size:85%;">the Swedish Institute for Opinion Surveys</span>) in which 33% of the Swedish population believes that there are crimes that conceivably could warrant the death penalty.* Sandahl obviously uses these statistics to question why no politician is pursuing the issue of maybe re-instating it. Heberlein's answer is simple: because it probably is not a good idea in a civilised society. And she then moves onto confronting Birro's switch from anti-abortion (<span style="font-size:85%;">on the grounds that all life is sacrosanct</span>) to pro-death penalty (<span style="font-size:85%;">on the grounds that life is only sacrosanct if the individual has earned that status</span>).**
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<br />However, while I appreciate Heberlein's argument, and find it important, I would nevertheless linger on those statistics. Because it strikes me that there is an inherent difference between believing that there are crimes that conceivably could warrant the death penalty and thinking that it is a good idea to institute laws of that nature.
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<br />Let me first off answer the question of that survey, the question with which I myself opened this post. Yes, I do think that there are heinous crimes that conceivably could warrant the death penalty. There are deeds where the individual's inalienable right to life can be considered spent, and basically rendered null and void. Do I think this means that the death penalty is a good idea? No, not at all. Because the idea of putting capital punishment into law is problematic on several levels. Not because it is always wrong to take life. Do not get me wrong, I am not suggesting that it is <span style="font-style: italic;">right </span>to take lives, but let us face reality. There is basically no government on Earth that would have any compunction of ordering soldiers onto a battlefield and ordering them to take lives. I am not suggesting that war is a good solution, but sometimes, it is undeniably the only solution. Personally, I am rather glad that Hitler's vision of an expanded Third Reich was thwarted and that concentration camps were shut down. And any time such things occur, there is an ethical need to oppose that.
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<br />So, why is the death penalty wrong then? Well, first and foremost because it would be hard, I believe, to institute a law where the required evidence was so definite that an erroneous conviction was entirely impossible. After all, if you kill someone, it is mighty hard to overturn a wrongful verdict. Granted that some crimes come with that level of specificity, but how would you put that into legalese.
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<br />Then there is the issue of the legal machinery itself. In countries where the death penalty is practised, like the US, it is worthwhile noticing that this penalty is not applied evenly. In other words, different legal representation (<span style="font-size:85%;">and by default pecuniary assets</span>) might be the difference between life and death. This all goes back to a point Heberlein makes: who decides the criteria for who gets to live and who does not?
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<br />There is an inherent ethical dilemma involved in the taking of any life. In war or in violent police actions, such a dilemma is circumvented, or temporarily suspended, by the needs of the moment. Basically, it becomes a question of a practical utilitarian principle in which the good of the many (<span style="font-size:85%;">and innocent</span>) outweighs the rights of an individual or individuals who are posing an immediate threat to the former. Once the person committing the violent deeds is in captivity, any such suspension or circumvention is itself rendered null and void. If the threat is disposed of, it would seem as if we no longer have any moral right to ignore ethics.
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<br />In older times, vengeance was the law of most lands. But as civilisation spread and our societal bonds grew, even that practice was influenced by other means of compensation. Weregild was a concept introduced as a means of ending blood feuds and stabilising regions, and I think it is safe to say that this helped us move forward as a species. Naturally, our impulse to strike back at those who hurt us or ours have not been weeded out of the species, but we deal with it by allowing the law to handle things for us.***
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<br />At the end of the day, we might also ask the question of what a proportionate punishment means. We cannot kill the mass murderer of Utøya more than once, yet his death would seem puny next to his deeds. Even if we allow ourselves to resort to that ultimate punishment of depriving such a criminal of life, the response fails to achieve proportion.
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<br />Furthermore, it is also questionable as a punishment since it is a brief moment to pay for so much inflicted misery. The perfect metaphysical punishment for the massacre on Utøya would, in my humble opinion, be to have the perpetrator spend the rest of (<span style="font-size:85%;">at the very least</span>) his existence reliving the events on that small island during that hour and a half through his own victims, literally <span style="font-style: italic;">as </span>his own victim. But metaphysical punishments elude our capabilities and so we have to deal with this in a human manner, and preferably one where we do not gaze too deeply into the Nietzschean abyss ourselves.
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<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">* It is probably worthwhile noting that Sweden does not have a death penalty, and as far as I know, neither does Norway.</span>
<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">** I will grant Birro the not at all unproblematic point that it would be possible to conceive of given rights that can be lost on account of breaches against the social contract as voiced in law. After all, we usually claim freedom to be a given, inalienable right, and yet we do not hesitate to imprison people for crimes, depriving them of that freedom. Granted that depriving someone of their life is somewhat more permanent, but in theory there is nevertheless an analogy here to be considered.</span>
<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">*** This is why the US system of allowing victims or relatives of victims to weigh in on the legal process in cases of release on probation has always struck me as strange. Logically, either the behaviour of the convict weighed against his or her crime should warrant the release or not. Personal opinions of people probably should not be a factor.</span>
<br /></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-67983430163486026572011-07-25T12:00:00.015+02:002011-07-25T12:29:54.494+02:00Unreal Reality: Utøya<div style="text-align: justify;"><span jsid="text">Two adjectives have occupied my brain since Friday: unfathomable and horrible.</span><br /><br /><span jsid="text">On Friday, catastrophe struck my peaceful neighbouring country Norway.</span><br /><br /><span jsid="text">A bomb was set off at the government building in Oslo and on a small island named Utøya, no more than 0.12 km² big (<span style="font-size:85%;">or 0.075 mi²</span>), what appears to be the same (<span style="font-size:85%;">potentially lone</span>) culprit, an ethnic Norwegian Islamophobe and right-wing extremist, attacked a political youth conference held by the Norwegian social democratic party's youth division. He came to the island masquerading as a police officer and proceeded to open fire at people there (<span style="font-size:85%;">mostly youngsters and kids</span>) with a machine gun, killing at<span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span>least 86* people</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span>in this massacre during the next hour and a half </span><span>(</span><span style="font-size:85%;">with at least another 7 killed in the Oslo bombing</span><span>).</span></span><br /><br /><span jsid="text">What is unfathomable is the unreality of this situation. We are used to be confronted with scenarios like this in literature and film. In fact, under different circumstances, we might have thought the preceding paragraph a brief synopsis, found on the back cover of a book or a DVD case. But while we are no strangers to such scenarios in fiction, on the whole, most of us (<span style="font-size:85%;">Scandinavians at the very least</span>) have probably been fairly lucky and have never</span><span jsid="text"> ourselves</span><span jsid="text"> had to really look deep beneath the surface of the societal contracts.</span><br /><br /><span jsid="text"><span class="text_exposed_show">Somehow, our brains can hardly not manage <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> to read this as fiction, precisely because of this.</span></span><br /><br /><span jsid="text"><span class="text_exposed_show">As reality, it just seems implausible and horrible. Horrible because it shows us what we, as a species, are still and continuously capable of. And we have the gall to call such behaviour bestial, while labelling all our better sides human and even humane. But tell me which other animal on this planet of ours acts as cruelly as a human being when it pleases her to act in a such a manner.</span></span><br /><br /><span jsid="text"><span class="text_exposed_show">Unfathomable. Horrible.</span></span><br /><br /><span jsid="text"><span class="text_exposed_show"><span>At least 86</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">* </span>people died on </span></span><span>Utøya.</span><span jsid="text"><span class="text_exposed_show"> But how many were wounded for life by the hours spent in horror and devastation? How many souls died on Friday on that small island?</span></span><br /><br /><br /><span jsid="text"><span class="text_exposed_show"><span style="font-size:85%;">* The latest information from the Norwegian Police indicates that the death toll from Utøya is probably going to be lowered, as the final tally is being put together. So far, however, they have not wanted to indicate by how much.</span></span></span><br /></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-27445904700070686012011-07-13T12:00:00.004+02:002011-07-13T12:00:01.958+02:00Acting or Writing Genius<div style="text-align: justify;">There is an inherent problem in acting, or perhaps even more so writing, genius.<br /><br />Don't get me wrong, it is not necessarily an easy task to successfully portray people of normal wits and intelligence. And it is certainly something of a challenge to portray stupid people; in particular in acting, where timing is of the essence to make it believable. The latter is actually one of the reasons why Christina Applegate's depiction of Kelly Bundy in <span style="font-style: italic;">Married with Children</span> is an impressive feat. We utterly believe in Kelly's stupidity; to the extent where it would be easy to assume that Applegate shares this feature with her character. Nothing could be further from the truth, of course. If she had been stupid, we would not have viewed Kelly as a stupid character, but rather as a character played (<span style="font-size:85%;">unsuccessfully</span>) by a stupid actor. We recognise the asinine without a doubt, but we also recognise when something is out of synch with its context; in this case, the story. Stupid in synch equals brilliant portrayal of stupid character; stupid out of synch equals a poor portrayal by a stupid actor.<br /><br />But I digress.<br /><br />This post is not about the lower register (<span style="font-size:85%;">which it is still easier to bow down to</span>), but the higher one, which remains ever elusive. As in all cases, fiction does not require <span style="font-style: italic;">being </span>real, it requires <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.com/2009/12/to-seem-or-not-to-seem-on-concept-of.html"><span style="font-style: italic;">seeming </span></a>real. And therein lies the rub.<br /><br />Acting or writing genius requires on the one hand to present the audience with an understandable entity; one which they can still comfortably understand as genius. On the other, it also requires that that understandable genius isn't transformed, as if by default, into a regular bloke. The balance is not easy and there are many examples of failure. Mostly, however, the failure does not consist of a too rigid depiction of the genius as <span style="font-style: italic;">actual </span>genius. Perhaps this is because your normal actors and writers aren't actually geniuses themselves. Not even most of the more intellectual ones. And even if they were, chances are that they would ironically dumb down a genius character to make her or him relatable.<br /><br />The other side of the coin is writing or acting upwards, telling your audience how brilliant your character is, only to stumble on the finish line by having the character absolutely clueless about something which they really ought not be clueless about. In TV shows, this is often shown by the genius character knowing little or nothing about any and all popular culture (<span style="font-size:85%;">Dr Sheldon Cooper obviously being a great exception to that rule</span>). You only need to think about characters like Leroy Jethro Gibbs (<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">NCIS</span></span>) or Dr Temperance Brennan (<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Bones</span></span>) who usually come off as super smart people, up until the point when a pop cultural reference appears. Because, as we all know, super smart people live entirely apart from the world, and can still stay up to date on the human condition, without ever taking in a single tabloid placard or zapping by anything pop cultural on TV. And after all, nothing of the kind would ever appear in a proper news show or newspaper either, so... Well, I guess you catch my drift.<br /><br />So the trick is balance; to establish a level of genius you can sell, and without selling it short. And at the end of the day, it doesn't require genius. Only the skills to seem like one.<br /></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-47275640639995790052011-06-27T12:00:00.008+02:002011-07-08T11:41:36.840+02:00The Author – Creator or Creative Vessel?<div style="text-align: justify;">I am currently teaching a creative writing class based on script doctor and story consultant John Truby's book <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0865479933/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-20&linkCode=as2&camp=217145&creative=399369&creativeASIN=0865479933">The Anatomy of Story: 22 Steps to Becoming a Master Storyteller</a></span>, and in one of our net meetings a discussion about this model of the writing process ensued. At the centre of the discussion was the fact that Truby continuously talk about the need to build an organic story, while presenting a model for doing this which can easily be viewed as very technical.<br /><br />Now, first off, I would say in Truby's defence that there is a difference between an organic result (<span style="font-size:85%;">which comes across as cohesive and alive</span>) and an organic method (<span style="font-size:85%;">which might be how one describes just going with the flow and making it up as you go along</span>). The point here is that the reader or viewer wants an organic result, and more often than not, achieving that requires at least some sort of technique. Especially when committing to writing a lengthier work like a novel, film script or a play.<br /><br />But even accepting that a lengthy piece of writing requires a solid structure, and that it, by definition, is easier to lay the foundation of a building first, this discussion nevertheless got me thinking about a deeper philosophical issue in how one thinks about the writing process.<br /><br />On page 84, while discussing the need to start at the end (<span style="font-size:85%;">a sound structuring advice, in my humble opinion</span>), Truby writes:<br /><blockquote style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">As with any journey, before you can take your first step, you have to know the endpoint of where you're going. Otherwise, you walk in circles or wander aimlessly.</blockquote>Now, Truby's metaphor reveals an obvious philosophical vision, but interestingly enough it is not the only one possible to draw out of it. After all, while Truby focuses on reaching a destination, there are those who claim that it is the journey itself that matters, not what destination is reached.<br /><br />In terms of narrative, I think Truby makes a good point, because narratives (<span style="font-size:85%;">whether fictional or factual</span>) tend to attempt to bring a certain sense of order to our understanding of the world, our lives and our selves. Often even when they deceptively seem to attempt tearing order down. In fact, even when narratives try to mimic reality, they always resort to <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.com/2009/12/to-seem-or-not-to-seem-on-concept-of.html">verisimilitude</a>, attempting to be <span style="font-style: italic;">like </span>reality or truth, rather actually be that thing.* Mostly because if it actually achieved being the thing itself, it would not necessarily make us believe it was.** So, for a story to be credible it needs to be structurally credible as a story. Whether or not it is credible in the sense of whether it could happen in the real world is actually less important. If for nothing else because we normally apply the same rules when relating the real world as well... as if to make that too more credible. Or perhaps just to make sense of its inherent chaos. But I digress.<br /><br />There are probably as many ways of writing as there are writers. This is not to say that Truby's model and approach are bad, but like I tell my students: while I am there to teach them Truby's model and examine that they have understood it (<span style="font-size:85%;">in order for them to get their credits</span>), what they choose to do with the model after that point is entirely up to them. Planning ahead and working things through on a basic level might save the writer a few (<span style="font-size:85%;">heavier</span>) rewrites down the line, since there will always be a clear definition of where things are heading, and a greater focus on how they can get there. From a creative point of view, it might indeed be more enjoyable to just tag along for the ride, but it also raises the question of what one wants to do with the end product. And where one wants to put in the most work.<br /><br />At the end of the day, however, the metaphor of the journey hints at a very basic question: are authors to be regarded as creators, in charge of their creation (<span style="font-size:85%;">i.e. the story world and all its inhabitants</span>) or as creative vessels, through which the story world and its characters gain entrance into our reality? I do not suggest this as an either-or proposition. Many writers speak about their writing in a manner which suggests several intermediate states, but the poles are there to be sure.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">* Needless to say perhaps, a narrative can never <span style="font-style: italic;">be</span> reality or the truth in this sense, since there is always an imposed distance. Think of René Magritte's famous painting <span style="font-style: italic;">Ceci </span><em>n'est pas une pipe</em>, for instance, as an illustration of this.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">** Dialogue is a good example here: in all writing (though in particular in script- and playwriting), dialogue needs to sound genuine and authentic, like something somebody would say, but at the same time very little fictional dialogue reads like people really speak. Speakers tend to stop, start new lines of thoughts mid-sentence, correct their thought-pattern, etc, all of which would be really inefficient in fiction where most lines have to count. In short, what is required is the illusion of actual speech rather than actual speech.</span><br /></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-25951328109297604972011-06-13T12:00:00.007+02:002011-06-13T12:00:08.856+02:00Newness, that Newfangled Thing<div style="text-align: justify;">Our topic today is newness. Or rather a certain obsession with the new and its supposed hierarchical superiority to the old. Well, at least in terms of artistic consumerism; i.e. reading books or comics, watching films, or listening to music. I would never suggest that the new in and of itself has a higher hierarchical position in, for instance, old-school academia. Although, it is worthwhile noticing the common critical (<span style="font-size:85%;">academic or otherwise</span>) favouritism of originality, <a href="http://the-mad-swede.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-blame-it-on-romantics-on-cult-of.html">of which I've written before</a>.<br /><br />While I do not necessarily see the necessity for originality as a quality marker of storytelling, I can certainly understand the endeavour to go where no author, artist, film maker or songwriter has gone before (<span style="font-size:85%;">even though the likelihood of an actual success in that seems meagre and more illusory than real</span>), what I want to discuss here and now is the notion held by more than a few people (<span style="font-size:85%;">and naturally fostered by the market place</span>) that only the latest thing is good enough. This is not to say that whatever the latest thing is is original (<span style="font-size:85%;">or even claims to be</span>), but the idea of defining newness in these fields as only the latest thing is foreign to me.<br /><br />As a reader, viewer or listener, I utterly fail to see why I have to be obsessed with the latest thing.<br /><br />Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying we cannot appreciate the latest thing to be published or produced for our reading, viewing or listening pleasures. But why be obsessed with it? When there are so many things in all temporal directions from us, yet to be discovered. Some of which we've surely not yet even heard.<br /><br />Let me confess openly: I have not read every book or comic ever written or published, not seen every film film ever made nor heard every song ever recorded. In fact, I have not even read/seen/heard all the ones I know would like to. This is quite simply because the treasure chest of such material is nigh infinite (<span style="font-size:85%;">at least in comparison to my own time here on Earth</span>), and everything that I've not (<span style="font-size:85%;">yet</span>) read, seen or heard is something new... to me.<br /><br />Obviously this is not a condition unique to me. I would dare say that there is no one out there who has literally read, seen or heard everything in any of the mentioned categories. Thus, we need to rethink what newness is, I would argue. We cannot allow our treasure chests of the imagination to be dominated by a simple market place insistence on the latest hype; that is to say, newness only as that newfangled thing which like a flash in the pan is here today and gone tomorrow. It is true that not all books, comics, films or music remain in the public consciousness (<span style="font-size:85%;">in fact, it is probably more true to say that few do</span>). But even a passing fancy is something which somebody may pick up long after that moment is gone, and enjoy or not, in very much the same manner people could whenever the hype was on.<br /><br />In fact, perhaps some of these things will find a better appeal when they are not over-marketed and only get to stand on their own two legs. I'm not saying that the fame will be eternal, but there may nevertheless be an appreciation of finding something new, as in previously unread, unseen or unheard (<span style="font-size:85%;">perhaps even unheard of</span>). </div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391186046656124703.post-36595499296435905782011-05-30T12:00:00.010+02:002011-05-30T12:00:13.756+02:00"Never Tease Wolves Who Arrive at Your Door:" On the Splendour of Progressive Rock Band Aragon<div style="text-align: justify;">In 1996, an acquaintance lent me two CDs. One was IQ's <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0041EM9JQ/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B0041EM9JQ">The Wake</a></span> (<span style="font-size:85%;">which made an IQ fan out of me</span>) and the other was <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00004VBB3/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B00004VBB3">Don't Bring the Rain</a></span>, the first full-length CD from the lesser known Australian progressive rock gem <a href="http://www.members.optusnet.com.au/aragon9/index_files/Page346.htm">Aragon</a>. And I took to the latter immediately.<br /><br />The band was formed in Melbourne in 1986 by Tom Behrsing (<span style="font-size:85%;">keyboards</span>), John Poloyannis (<span style="font-size:85%;">guitar</span>) and Les Dougan (<span style="font-size:85%;">vocals</span>), and added two more members – Rob Bacon (<span style="font-size:85%;">bass</span>) and Tony Italia (<span style="font-size:85%;">drums</span>) – after having spent months writing songs. <span style="font-style: italic;">Don't Bring the Rain</span> was first released as a mini-LP in 1988, but as it made some success in Europe, the band recorded extra tracks for a full-length CD release, which saw the light of day in 1990 (<span style="font-size:85%;">and reached my own hands some five to six years later</span>). Bacon left the band even before the release of the CD, however, and Italia followed suit in 1991 (<span style="font-size:85%;">albeit for different reasons</span>), leaving the band in its original trio format, in which it has remained since.<br /><br />After having been introduced to the band, it was not long before I had bought <span style="font-style: italic;">Don't Bring the Rain</span> myself as well as their 1995 concept album <span style="font-style: italic;">Mouse</span>, and the preceding six-tracks mini-CD <span style="font-style: italic;">The Meeting</span> (1992), which is actually Act 5 of the concept album served up as a kind of work in progress teaser (<span style="font-size:85%;">in fact, in 1999, <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0002NG4GE/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B0002NG4GE">Mouse</a></span> was re-released by LaBraD'or Records </span><span style="font-size:85%;">as a double-CD incorporating <span style="font-style: italic;">The Meeting</span> in its proper place in the story</span>). I also managed to track down the rarer 1993 release <span style="font-style: italic;">Rocking Horse and Other Stories</span>, which collects material from demos and the like, including the 20-minutes epic "Rocking Horse." While this material is recorded in lesser quality, it nevertheless provides a good glimpse into the earliest stages of the band, and "Rocking Horse" alone makes the CD worth getting.<br /><br />By the time <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0002NGDRE/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B0002NGDRE">Mr. Angel</a></span> was released in 1997 (<span style="font-size:85%;">as the band's first recording in their own studio and their first release on LaBraD'or Records</span>), I was eagerly anticipating the album. At the time, it represented something of a break from the progressive rock found on <span style="font-style: italic;">Don't Bring the Rain</span> and then developed in the concept album format on <span style="font-style: italic;">Mouse</span>, and while I know that this slightly more pop-rock oriented music disappointed some of my friends at the time, I liked it (<span style="font-size:85%;">albeit in a different way than the earlier CDs</span>).<br /><br />That being said, when the band's latest album to date, <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B000V7JKYY/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thuspathemigw-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B000V7JKYY">The Angels Tear</a></span> (2004), I was not in the least bit saddened by the fact that the band was returning to their progressive roots. Rather the opposite.<br /><br />So what is that makes Aragon so fantastic in my humble opinion? Well, one need only consider the great melodies and the fantastic lyrics, wonderfully interpreted vocally by Les Dougan. Dougan's vocals are quite particular, and I know people who find them hard to digest (<span style="font-size:85%;">just as some people have a hard time digesting the vocals of Rush's Geddy Lee</span>), but the emotion expressed is raw, beautiful and gets me every time.<br /><br />Or to let you sample their greatness on your own, allow me to present four highly recommended tracks I found on YouTube.<br /><br />First out, "In Company of Wolves" from <span style="font-style: italic;">Don't Bring the Rain</span>, the playful lyrics of which I absolutely fell in love with the first time I heard it:<br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/3xOLmQ7eOEs" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="330" width="400"></iframe><br /><br />Secondly, "The Changeling" from <span style="font-style: italic;">The Meeting</span> (<span style="font-size:85%;">and consequently <span style="font-style: italic;">Mouse</span></span>), which certainly gives a good sense of where and what the band was about during this period:<br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/UqXIV_jFNAA" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="330" width="400"></iframe><br /><br />Thirdly, a step back into the past, Aragon's epic 20-minutes song "Rocking Horse", which is a really well-constructed song with a good set of narrative lyrics:<br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/lbOlNAsyKGI" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="330" width="400"></iframe><br /><br />And finally, I would like to leave you with a sample of the band's latest release. "Growing Up in Cuckoo Land" is the opening track on <span style="font-style: italic;">The Angels Tear</span>:<br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/CE4ZL7bMuKc" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="257" width="400"></iframe><br /><br />And for those of you who find this stuff interesting, I can also inform you that the band is currently working on new material. While there is not yet any set release date, this is indeed great news for all Aragon fans out there – old and new!<br /><br /><br />(<span style="font-size:85%;">And lest I kill any people from the suspense, I better end this post with a quick tie-in with the preceding second anniversary post. The blog's new sibling (of sorts) arrived not on the day of the anniversary itself, but half an hour into the following day (</span><span style="font-size:85%;">as if to ensure a celebratory day of his own). So, as predicted, I was indeed elsewhere as the post went up, but after many an hours wait, my son deigned to grace us with his presence. And that, as they say, is that.</span>)<br /></div>The Mad Swedehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11909803239199450139noreply@blogger.com0