Tag Archives: fiction

Staff Picks – British Edition

24 Jun

Greetings! I’m Clay, a part-time library assistant in the Circulation Department of the Hoboken Public Library. I didn’t really intend this staff picks to be a celebration of British pop culture, it just turned out that way. (All items mentioned are available in the BCCLS system.)

Sherlock

sherlock

BBC television series, 2010-continuing

The iconic character Sherlock Holmes is updated to modern-day London, in a world where there is no Arthur Conan Doyle character to emulate–this is an original Sherlock, insufferably arrogant and inarguably brilliant. Creators Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat, who were also behind the successful re-launch of Dr. Who, have created a delightfully sinister London, crawling with evil geniuses a la Holmes’ nemesis Dr. Moriarty (who appears in altered form). The character interplay remains faithful to the original pairing of Holmes and Watson, with every episode making subtle allusion to the Conan Doyle canon without descending into straight homage.

Only nine episodes have appeared–three seasons of three episodes each since 2010–a pace grown all the more leisurely after the show made film stars out of Benedict Cumberbatch (Sherlock turned dragon) and Martin Freeman (Dr. Watson turned hobbit). Just repeat “quality over quantity” through a British stiff upper lip, while marveling at the mind-blowing end of Series 2 and trust that Gatiss and Moffat can escape from the intriguing corner they painted themselves into at the end of Series 3.

Life on Mars

life-on-mars

BBC television series, 2006-2007

A modern-day cop crashes his car and is thrown back into the 1970s. If that sounds familiar, it’s because this BBC TV series spun off a U.S. version (with a different ending). But this is the superior model.

Chief Inspector Sam Tyler, played by John Simm, is rushing to save his girlfriend from a serial killer when he is hit by a car, as David Bowie’s “Life on Mars” trickles out from his car’s iPod. Coming to, Tyler finds himself sporting a leather jacket and rocking a collar the size of a New York slice–not on Mars but somewhere almost as foreign: the blighted smokestacks and shabby wasteland of industrial Manchester, 33 years in his past. Bowie is still playing, but on an 8-track player in a 1973 model car: He’s been literally knocked into the 1970s.

Stranded without a cell phone or web connection, Tyler must cope with dodgy tape decks and noisy rotary phones. The anachronisms aren’t used as cheap gags, as in the show’s inferior, Tyler-less sequel Ashes to Ashes, but are smoothly incorporated into the gritty action. Besides solving the essential mystery, Tyler must eventually make a wrenching decision–in which world do his true loyalties lie, and what makes for an authentic life, anyway?

It works on many levels: Besides being a conventional good cop-bad cop police procedural, it’s also an ambiguous, sometimes surreal science-fiction mystery and a humorous fish-out-of-water tale with strong, appealing characters. It tells its story in 16 tight episodes over two seasons, topped with perhaps the single most fitting final scene since the dawn of television.

Series 1
Series 2

Watership Down

watership-down

1972 novel

The novel by British author Richard Adams is about a group of bunnies who leave their warren. From that benign description emerges a profound tale that contains everything you could ever want in an adventure story–action, suspense, horror, even a mythos relayed through tales passed generation to generation (and given these are rabbits, that’s a lot of generations), delivered at a thumping pace. Adams’ rabbits could have easily been silly or twee, but the characterizations feel right–like actual rabbits, not humans in fuzzy suits, with their own language and worldview, and a puzzled hatred for a humankind that seems to want to wipe them off the earth. The animated movie is quite impressive too, though definitely not for young children. Hrududu!

Hot Fuzz

hot-fuzz

2007 film

This British comedy throws a control-freak policeman–exiled from London for being too dedicated to his job–into a mercilessly quaint English village that harbors a secret, deadly conspiracy. It’s the middle entry of director Edgar Wright’s thematically connected “Cornetto Trilogy” (named after the cameos made in each of his movies by that British-based frozen treat) alongside Shaun of the Dead and The World’s End.

Your favorite may depend on your favorite genre: Shaun for zombie fans, Hot Fuzz for police procedural/cozy mysteries, The World’s End for a Big Chill type pub-crawl reunion that abruptly turns into….er, something else. They’re all involving, grisly, and hilarious, but while I found Shaun a little short and The World’s End a little long, Hot Fuzz was just right. The director commentaries are well worth the listen, as Wright and his pet actor Simon Pegg (who stars in all three) points out all the little loving, enriching details you took in only subconsciously the first time around.

Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys.

clothes-music-boys

2014 autobiography by Viv Albertine

Albertine was guitarist for The Slits, the influential (deep breath) British-reggae-feminist-punk-girl-band, back at a time and place–1970s England–when girls did not play guitars in bands. Albertine escaped an abusive childhood through music, and taught herself to play, albeit crudely. Enthusiasm and energy, not musical virtuosity, was all you needed in the punk era.

The Slits, led by singer Ari Up, still in her teens when the band formed, are a respected obscurity now, best known for their ground-breaking 1979 debut LP Cut. But while never quite making the punk pantheon, Albertine was present during the creation, dating Mick Jones of The Clash and being in a band with Sid Vicious before he joined the Sex Pistols.

Albertine names names in Clothes…Music…Boys, even telling off her (former) manager for insisting she employ a ghostwriter for this autobiography. We’re the beneficiaries: Clothes…Music…Boys is feisty and direct, peppered with earthy, scabrous wit and graphic, brutal self-effacement, and Albertine is blessed with either voluminous diaries or a photographic memory. Sometimes it’s even touching, as when she describes seeing her brutal father, thin and wizened in his coffin, with Albertine and her young daughter the only ones at the funeral: “How sad to be lying there, all dressed up in your Sunday best, and no one wants to come and see you, no one wants to say goodbye.”

Alice in Sunderland

alice-in-sunderland

2007 graphic novel by Brian Talbot

For fans of Lewis Carroll or hard-core Anglo-culture afficionados, this veddy British project makes the case–via an overwhelming collage of fact and opinion delivered by cartoon pastiche, whimsical homage, and historical scrapbook–that it was the industrial Northern town of Sunderland that inspired Carroll’s wondrously nonsensical Wonderland, not the academic atmosphere of Oxford, where he taught and the milieu with which he’s identified. It’s a dizzyingly erudite dose of scattershot history, and if you don’t mind having your brain feel full to bursting, it might be your cup of tea.

Shameless Plug (also British-based):

Death in the Eye, my self-published murder mystery in the cozy Agatha Christie tradition, is available as a Kindle book and a paperback, and through the Hoboken Public Library’s Technology Lending program.

Death in the Eye

From the back of the print edition:

The year is 1924. Gwendolyn Parks, the blind young heiress of Pibble, a grand house outside London, has miraculously regained her eyesight after a tumble down the stairs after a dinner party. But it’s no cause for celebration. For Gwen did not fall — she was pushed, by someone at the party. Yet she tells no one, relying upon the miracle of her reclaimed eyesight to solve the mystery herself.

-Written by Clay Waters, Library Assistant

The Past, Present, and Future Tech: How to be a Victorian, The End of Absence, and Neuromancer

20 May

In the past 11 ½ years that I’ve been at the library, I’ve seen a huge change in how people access materials and stay connected.  Back in 2013, we had a few people using laptops accessing our wifi, but now along with large amounts using laptops, I see many people using smartphones and tablets as well.  We had a few reference databases when I started, but now you can access even more 24/7 reference resources, eBooks, downloadable music, and now even movies and TV shows from Hoopla.  It truly is an exciting time to be a librarian, as libraries and society quickly evolve in ways Melvil Dewey, Thomas Hatfield (HPL’s first librarian), and other early librarians could not have imagined.  In honor of this I wanted to look at three books that span the tech revolution from life in the early industrial revolution days of Victorian England, our present information revolution, and William Gibson’s classic cyberpunk dystopian view of the future.

The End of Absence: Reclaiming What We’ve Lost in a World of Constant Connection, by Michael Harris.

end-of-absence

I was intrigued to read Michael Harris’ The End of Absence which focuses on what we as a society and individuals might be losing with all the exciting technology gains we are making.  My life would be very different today without the digital world since I found my current job, my husband, my grad school roommate, my previous apartment, some friends, and three pet cats all online.  Harris likens the current changes to those that followed the invention of the printing press and a move away from oral traditions to the printed word.  The End of Absence is part sociology, part philosophical work, with a bit of memoir thrown in.  I found the studies he quoted were mentioned so briefly and the meandering focus, made me drawn to the more personal aspects of the piece that occurred in the second half including when he attempted Analog August where he attempted to return to the lack of tech of his childhood including taping a cord to tether his cell phone so he couldn’t use it outside his home.  For someone who was taking a stance towards the negatives of technology, he surprisingly met his partner online.  I think in the end, the world The End of Absence describes calls for a need for balance.  Technology has great promise, but should not replace basic human interactions.  As the library has increased our digital offerings, we have also increased programs and study space to feed the need for social interaction and quiet learning that may be even greater now in the evolving digital age.

Neuromancer, by William Gibson.

neuromancer
I couldn’t help when reading The End of Absence thinking of the Cyberpunk genre of science fiction, where the future may be high tech, but society has begun to fall apart.  My husband is a huge fan of cyberpunk including movies like the Matrix and his favorite Blade Runner.  Nothing typifies this genre like William Gibson’s 1984 classic Neuromancer, which I was inspired to reread again twenty some years after I had my first encounter.  The novel tells of a damaged computer hacker, Case, who is “fixed” by his mysterious employer in order for him to assist in an epic dangerous hack.   I felt the slang that Gibson uses for his characters was engaging and the twists and turns the story takes as told from the addled perspective of the main character were exiting even if some of the technology depictions seem now dated.  Although the characters with their criminality are not the most sympathetic bunch, I found there was something very charismatic about Molly, the main female protagonist, who due to having permanently had lenses affixed to her eye sockets can no longer cry, but when sad must spit the way her tear ducts have been rerouted.  She also retractable cat-like claws.  This engaging femme fatale first appeared in Gibson’s Johnny Mnemonic and returns in his Mona Lisa OverdriveThe dystopian high tech Japan Gibson created as the main background is compelling, even if as with the rest of his future world, you might not want to live there.

How to be a Victorian: A Dawn-to-Dusk Guide to Victorian Life, by Ruth Goodman.

how-to-be-a-victorian

All this talk of high tech dystopia, made me long for the simpler times of the past.  Ruth Goodman’s How to be a Victorian does a great job of capturing the Victorian daily life.  What I especially liked is she brings some of her personal experiences as a reenactor to the account so she describes not only what would have been worn such as a corset or tasks which would have done such as doing laundry, but as a modern woman what that experience is like.  It made me realize how often we look back at the past with nostalgia, but that often new technologies free us from hard manual labor.  The book looks at the lives of all levels of Victorian society from the poor, to the working class, to middle class, to the wealthy.  Although Goodman is British and the book was originally published in the UK some specific American differences in lifestyle for the Victorian era are mentioned.  I especially thought the section dealing with medical practices was fascinating with its look at the balance between the new “scientific” beliefs of male doctors as contrasted with the herbal and folk remedies practiced by wives and mothers.  It made me wonder which of our medical practices in another hundred years may appear to be barbaric and silly.  Goodman spends quite a bit of focus on Victorian dress and styling so those looking to create authentic costumes or get inspiration for fanciful Steampunk creations may enjoy her descriptions.  There are some black and white and a few full color illustrations included.  As much fun as going to a recreation Victorian tea party may be, I feel lucky to live in our present era with its washing machines, dishwashers, and other modern conveniences.

-Written by Aimee Harris, Head of Reference