Category: Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

Six Thoughts Upon Reading The Maltese Falcon

I started reading The Maltese Falcon yesterday, which is one of those books I’ve been meaning to read forever without getting around to it. I lay the blame entirely on the film, which is awesome and fulfilling in a way that the other big hardboiled-to-noir adaptation* never really manages, and thus makes it easier to excuse the act of reading in favour of another round of Bogart playing Sam Spade. In any case, after starting to read I had some thoughts. Six of them, to be exact: 1) The more I read hardboiled fiction the more I’m aware of the way it infiltrates our culture, seeping in through other media when we’re not looking. It’s a genre that lends itself to the intertextual, to endless moments of “so that’s where that came from” as you go back and find primary sources. I knew the tropes of noir film long before I came across it’s classic stories, largely because I’d inherited

Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

What I’m Watching: Xena, Warrior Princess

So I’ve been watching the first seasons of Xena for the last couple of days. Largely I blame Tansy Rayner Roberts for this, since I borrowed the DVDs from a friend after reading the Xena Rewatch Notes on her blog. I can recommend going and checking those out, should you want to follow an in-depth discussion of the first season, for although I’m enjoying the show I’m primarily going to note the three things that are really, really bugging me. Surprisingly, it’s not the casual relationship to history – I’m totally down with the mix-and-match approach to myth and historical reference points. It’s not the dodgy CGI monsters either (although I’m struggling to figure out where the hell the bat-winged, skeletal dryads came from in one of the early Season 2 DVDs). It’s not even Gabrielle, who is irritating for the first half of the season *with a damn purpose*. It’s not even the complete disregard of the laws of physics

Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

5 Books

If you were to ask me for book recomendations right now – and yes, I know you aren’t, but lets just say you were – you’d probably get a list that runs something like this: The Thin Man, Dashiel Hammett: Screw The Maltese Falcon – if you’re only going to read one hardboiled detective story by Hammett then you really should start with this one. I picked it up on the back of watching Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist when it was mentioned that the title characters in the film were based on the relationship between Hammett’s Nick and Nora Charles in the film version of this book, and it’s not hard to see why they were taken with the couple. Nick and Nora Charles are fricken’ awesome – their banter, their affection for one another, their goddamn chemistry as a literary couple – and it’s refreshing to see a hardboiled investigator who is actually happy much of the time.

Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

1 Day ’til Worldcon

And in an hours time I’m off to the airport. I’m a bundle of nerves this morning, but I’ve been singing this song for the last half-hour: And tomorrow there is Worldcon.

Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

6 Days ’til Worldcon

So this morning started with a trip out to my not-so-local post office to check my mailbox, largely on the assumption that a terribly efficient postal system stood a very small chance of delivering a hardcover book from England to Brisbane in the space of a week. Admittedly I figured it was a long shot, but if I didn’t check today I wouldn’t get a chance until after Worldcon, and at the back of my mind was this constant what-if-what-if-what-if… And lo, when I opened my PO Box, my faith in the postal system was rewarded with this: Angela Slatter’s Sourdough and Other Stories in all its fabulous, hard-covery glory. And it is freakin’ glorious – a hardcover and with a placeholder ribbon that’s packed to the gills with stories that rock the freakin’ casbah. Plus it’s one of those books that looks just as good without the dust-jacket: And, as with all good books that enter the house, it

Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

A momentary diversion

One of the nice things about the internet is that occasionally a friend will be all “dude, you have to check this out” and I’ll be all “dude! WTF? LOLS!” Today is one of those days. I give you the Call of Cthulhu, summarised in two minutes or less in fluent Valley Girl. For real, dude. Total WTF? LOLS

Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

18 Days ’til Worldcon

– There’s a bit of this going on this morning, for I’ve had my second short story acceptance for the year. Details to  come once I’ve signed contracts and such, but it looks like this one might see publication sooner rather than later. – If you’re not following the Drive-By Interviewsover at Angela Slatter’s blog, well, you really should. – Ditto The Coode Street Podcastfeaturing Jonothan Stahan and Gary K. Wolfe. There’s something immeasurably pleasurable about getting to hear two very knowledgeable people talk about the history of SF, publishing, reviewing, and (perhaps most importantly) the BOOKS YOU DON’T NEED TO READ in order to understand out field. After listening to one of their earlier episodes, I feel myself utterly absolved of having to finish the rather dire Princess of Mars. – And, hell, lets throw out the rather fine fortnightly podcast from the Galactic Suburbia crew, for I’m a fan of that too. – Also, if you’re interested in scoring

Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

Furnace Room Lullabye

Since it came up in comments on in the livejournal feed, I’m going to make quick mention of this. I can understand the desire to make fun of country music, because much of it isn’t my thing and there are far too many examples of bad country music out there (especially in Australian, where the genre deserves to be razed to the ground merely for the existence of Slim Dusty). But it’s worth remembering that for every ten or eleven bad examples  there is at least one good, often lurking in the background, that wouldn’t exist if we put up with the genre as a whole. I mean, country music gave us the genre of rockabilly (which was good) which in turn gave us The Living End (which was not). It gave us Johnny Cash covering Nine Inch Nails tunes and giving them a tenderness they never would have had in their original incarnation. I will argue tooth and nail

Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

I Write Like

Bugger who I write like*, when presented with a tool of complex literary analysis such as this I can think of only one sensible thing to do with it. And now I give the you the results of my most important and detailed analysis: When you plug in the lyrics to Sir Mix-a-Lot’s Baby Got Back, you get: I write like J. D. Salinger I Write Likeby Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing! And this amuses me no end. Poor Holden Caulfield – if only he’d learned to dial 1-900-mix-a-lot, his life could have been very different**. So can we all go back to the infinately more interesting 30 Days of Television meme now? * I tried Horn, got “You write like Jane Austen”, then figured we were done. ** Of course, on further reflection, it makes perfect sense. No-one understands poor Holden and who understands those rap guys anyway?

Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

Today’s Thought

If this were a sane and sensible world there would be someone out there pressuring Dirk Flinthart to re-release his suburban Brisbane noir novella, Brotherly Love. I mean, dude, how is this ever out of print? More importantly, why has it been out of print for over a decade?  Why do I need to acquire it in op-shops and library seconds sales? I give away copies of this book semi-regularly, and it is loved with a fierce devotion by everyone who sees the words “yakuza”, “overweight computer hacker” and “army of goths” in the blurb. It’s the kind of book that causes readers to get a dangerous gleam in their eye as they contemplate the forthcoming awesomeness, and it does not dissapoint them when they read on. And alas, I’m at my final copy, which means I must now guard it like the precious and hiss at people who ask if they can read it. I must also tape it together,

Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

Angela Slatter’s Sourdough: Pre-order details

Okay peeps, for your edification I’m going to mention that Angela Slatter’s new short story collection, Sourdough and other stories, is avialble for pre-order from Tartarus Press. It’ll be a limited edition of 300 copies, and I heartily recommend it (I’ve read much of the collection, which is a themed series of linked story, and it moves beyond the realm of awesome and into the realm of quite extraordinary). “But Peter,” I hear you cry, “you already mentioned Angela’s short story collection was available for pre-order a few weeks ago.” “Nay,” I tell you, “a few weeks ago I mentioned that her OTHER short story collection, The Girl with No Hands, is available for pre-order from Ticonderoga Press. Sourdough is a completely seperate book, being put out by a boutique press that does glorious hardcovers full of win. Trust me, though. You cannot go wrong by doubling the ammount of Slatter works you’re planning to add to your bookshelf.” “What?”