Tom In The Tardis.

 

The Hollow lands.

 Jhenek Carnalion, following the events of An Alien Heat, finds himself back at the End Times, seperated from his great love Amelia Underwood by some millions of years. its a tragedy of sorts, which is how this series was initially described to me; "The last human love story", the one before the lights go out and the door is pulled closed behind us for the final time, all passion spent. it all sounds terribly sad does it not? And yet this series, for me, has not proven to be so. For me it has proven to be a story which wears its big human heart on its sleeve, although that sleeve is woven from the most exotic spider hair, an intricately constructed affectation not found in nature. It is perhaps a weave of a sleeve only possible when using instruments of spontaneous creation, powered into being by the power of will and an infinite resource of improbable energy to draw on. Imagine a world conjured into being by a race of virtually immortal decadent beings, who live for hedonism. Actually I would bet money, good old fashioned gold-pressed latinum, that any guess you might make would be far wide of the mark, for there are not many with the breadth of imagination of Michael Moorcock. Given all the irrefutable visual proof of widespread moribund mediums as Facebook or Twitter, perhaps no bad thing. At best most would envision a Miltonesque Madonna video, at worst; part Catholic nightmare, part appalling rap music video,ugh, freefall into a tar pit of narcissism.  Not so much Desperately seeking sensation as the endless pursuit of joy and all its frivolous rewards. 

               Given the unbriddled lust of these future sophisticates the End Times are surprisingly beautiful and even complexly wistful.  Michael Moorcock vividly conjures into being a world hovering on the brink of a predicted final collapse that long ago shed the restrictions of morality. When you can do anything, anything goes.

               There are few introductions here, everything is mostly set up from the first book. It hits the ground in much the same way sand in a timer will rush through to the next part of the timer, in that I knew there was a sequel to An Alien Heat and it had a joyful inevitability about it. Like Michael Moorcock was waiting in the wings going "wait til you see what happens next..." And here it is.

               

Miss Hogg And The Bronte Murders.

Austin Lee is described in the brief author bio as a "maverick clergyman" and that desciption alone made me want to read further. The notion of a maverick clegyman has the ring of "wild dog of wholesale book retailing" about it, in that it may not conjure up any tropes of an all action outsider hell bent on shaping the world rather than being shaped by it, but in real world terms it is intriguing. He sounded like a colourful character, actually at odds with the church he was part off, The Church of England. He even speculated about the make up of your average Church of England congregation as "contains a galaxy of the meanest, most malicious, back biting, narrow minded and bigotted members of the community", a speculation that could have been regarded in the wider social media of this century as "Doing a Ratner.! The bio also mentions  that he died in 1956, a batchelor, not having married, which does sound like a mannered code of some kind, that which cannot be spoken off in front of the vicar, or the priest, or the Rabbi, or whatever. He sounds like a rather decent human being, a man of principle, who was not afraid of standing up for that which he believed in, something sadly missing in many modern religious figures, regardless of whether you agree with them or no...He once made this observation about the average congregation attending a mass as"..contains a galaxy of the meanest, most malicious, back biting, narrow minded and bigoted members of the community", marvellous, sounds like the cast of Midsummer Murders. mind you, that mildly self destructive observation could perhaps be described, by those of a certain generation, as "Doing a Ratner.". Look it up, really.

           His funeral service was held in the chapel of Trinity College, Cambridge.

           No code intended. 

           Really enjoyed this book. And there is so much more to recommend it than it just having been written by an interesting author. There are some mysterious murders in beautiful and historic locations, a retired school mistress turned private detective, some very pleasant and not too knowing literary allusions, The Brontes, Wordsworth, as well as the environs of oxford and Cambridge (fans of Morse, Lewis and even Doctor Who take note; SHADA!). Style and  tone-wise I was reminded of the recent Edmund Crispin novel I read; The Moving Toyshop. Its just as much fun too. And I don't mean that in a "Bourgeois have a giggle at a brutal murder way". Its just pleasantly engaging with quite likeable characters who are easy to imagine. 

            You might subtitle it; To Live and Die In Bronte...

            BOOM!BOOM! As dear Basil Brush used to say.

( P.S. Not many people may be aware that Basil was also a very successful recording artist. Here is a copy of his album cover sleeve. I went looking for it in my vinyl record collection and found it sitting between a copy of David Bowie's LOW and Lou Reed's TRANSFORMER. which is off course where it belongs.)

 

Sexy Superheroes!

Way back in the day I attempted to do a super hero gayverse ( I was'nt being hetrophobic or anything, just trying naively to address what I perceived as a representative imbalance. Although I did not have the words to say so..). So i wrote a few what I considered to be cheeky fun romps which I was fortunate enough to get published with among others Eros Comics in Seattle.

             Anyway, heres a wee glimpse of some of my contributions to a growing gay world...

             At some point I wondered why I was making any distinction with a gay superhero trope. It was all there anyway, going on in the comics anyway, decades of beautiful homo-eroticism playing out across the companies. Its just no one was mentioning it..
 

Ghostly.

 "When the nights draw in and the fires burn low, enjoy the eeriness, the dread and the comedy of all things Ghostly." Who could resist such a tempting invitation , such a promising blurb on the inside cover, on this beautifully designed dust cover? Not I for sure, there is Go on, do it yourself, there is only one thing to do with such temptation and that is yield. you will be in such good company in this anthology; Saki, Edgar Allen Poe,  M.R. James, ray Bradbury, Neil Gaiman. And off course there are contributions by Audrey Niffenegger who wrote the introduction, illustrated the book and gifted a truly unsettling yarn "Secret life, with Cats". Some great choices in this collection, some quite subtle choices and all fittingly Ghostly. 

             Audrey Niffenegger's fine black line illustrations lift the contents to an almost meta-degree, visually tip-toeing around the stories on lithe little cat feet. Her drawings have a Jean Cocteau quality to them. A dreamy surreal series of haunting visuals which linger like the stories. 

            The tone varies throughout in the most pleasant, if unsettling of ways, with hardly a misstep or a paw  put wrong. The nicest surprise for me was the Oliver Onions story; The Beckoning Fair One". I was aware of its existence having read it referenced as a very special genre addition and it indeed lived up to what I had hoped. It felt timeless and also timely. no need to put this collection aside for the darker season, let these stories creep into your conciousness, seek reverie in the company of the strange, who fairly or unfairly beckon you onwards. Give into temptation...

            What else is it for.

The Glamour Boys.

Just finished Chris Bryant's amazing secret history of a rainbow coalition of stout hearted men who took a stand against the rise of Hitler and the horror show that followed. What a fascinating read, a queer perspective on a dangerous time, when to be queer was a dangerous thing in itself. And yet here were a generation who having faced prejudice and intolerance every day of their lives were able to recognise the danger signs early on, the fledgling flexing of the nazi salute and the harsh reality of the jack boot. What a terrifying perspective it was too, a deviant nationalism that ended in persecution and concentration camps. 

            Chris Bryant must have carried out forensic examination of existing material, given how badly these brave men would have been treated if their sexual persuasion were made public. Ridicule, persecution and brutality, scance reward for heroism in the face of the monstrous. The details of what these men endured should be widely known, their courage and sacrifice noted for ages to come. Yet most of the information in this book was new to me, secrets wrapped up in mystery boxes, closed to all but who knew and cared for them. The story of Alan Turing is gaining traction in the mainstream, even taught at school level. And rightly so, its tale worth repeating.

            As are the tales within Chris Bryant's book. Tales of ordinary, and occasionally extraordinary, individuals who's lives were blighted by ignorance on a national level. Sadly, such were the times, when even the most awful prejudices were seen as examples of a healthy society, attempting to protect itself from the percieved depravity of these beautiful men. For that is what they were, all too human and beautiful, born into an era where monsters were coming to power. They knew that to avert a terrible future they would put their lives on the line, often for a country that shunned and devalued them. It is heart breaking but heart warming by turns. All too often the good guys lost but they never stopped fighting. The alternative was a world of misrule. I think there is a terrifying casuality in the minds of many people who think of the excesses of the past as "back then" or "its all over now". History has taught us so much more than that. It is never really over, the monsters just come back with another name, another face. Having been born and brought up in the Catholic faith I sometimes squint at the world, viewing it through the prism of a stain glass window with demonic relief. Sometimes, when the light hits in in a certain way, its lovely to look at, but mostly it just gets between me and the thing of beauty I want to look at, guilt free.

             A fantastic book.

 

 It did well for marvel and here is the 2nd print variant. Jim Cheung really delivered. Hulkling and Wiccan, how long before they get their own title? Hopefully with the beautiful renderings of Mr Cheung. A thing of beauty is a joy forever as Joh Keats once said in his epic poem Endymion.

             He would have liked this cover. Probably.