Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

GenreCon kicks off at twelve o’clock today. Before that happens, I think we can all agree that this is sexy as fuck:

A few months back, Kathleen Jennings leant me her copy of Swordspoint on the assumption I’d probably like it. The fact that I actually took it is a pretty good indication I thought she was probably right, since I generally don’t borrow books from people I like. No matter how many times I point out, no, seriously, it will take me forever to get around to reading this, it never seems adequate to the task of explaining how long it will take me.

Case in point: I’m pretty sure what I’m writing off as a few months, up there, is actually about a year. Possibly two years. It’s entirely possible that I’d forgotten I’d borrowed it until I came across it while re-arranging a bookshelf a few weeks back, ’cause that’s the way my brain works when it comes to unread books.

Do not lend me books, is what I’m saying.

But, maybe, go track down Kathleen and borrow her copy of Swordspoint, ’cause it’s a pretty damn extraordinary book. Ellen Kushner’s novel about the nobility of Hill and the duelists in Riverside is one of those stories that’s winding and tricksy and never quite what you’re expecting, but ultimately lands as one of the best fantasy novels I’ve read in years (and I’m only twenty-eight years behind the times, if I’m doing my calculations correctly).

Interestingly, it’s not necessarily a book I’d recommend to all fans of fantasy – this is a story that’s got a lot more in common with Dangerous Liasons than Lord of the Rings, although the cruelty in this is much more subtle. That combination kept me up reading well and truly past my bedtime two nights a row, however, and that just doesn’t happen these days. Like, ever.

I find myself hanging out for the opportunity to read the prequel serial, Tremontain, which Kathleen has been blogging about (and illustrating) in recent weeks. Possibly, it has been added to my post-GenreCon reading list.

I meant to post this over the weekend, but…conference brain. Instead, you’re getting it here.

*AHEM*…GO SEE THE ODD COUPLE

I got interested in Neil Simon’s 1965 theatrical version of The Odd Couple after reading James Scott Bell’s Plot and Structure, where he goes back to the play several times when he’s looking for examples to illustrate a particular point.

It stood out because The Odd Couple is one of those cultural touchstones, the characters of Oscar and Felix made iconic by the movie version featuring Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau, or the sitcom with Tony Randall and Jack Klugman. And, like most touchstones, it’s been worth smooth and toothless by that long familiarity.

This is not the play that James Scott Bell describes in his book. I went and Googled some details of the play and got…intrigued. It sounded smart. It sounded good.

Then I discovered it was getting a run at the Queensland Theatre Company, and naturally, I had to go. And then I learned that my friend Colin Smith, who I hadn’t seen since he played in one of my superhero campaigns a few years back, was playing the role of Murray, so I gathered together my usual crew of theatre-going peeps (aka my sister and my parents) and we booked tickets.

It was…outstanding. A smart script with a talented cast and perhaps the nicest set I’ve seen in a theatrical production in years. Everything and everyone involved in the production was incredibly on-point, making it one of those rare productions that everyone in my family agreed upon when it was done.

More importantly, it’s definitely not the play you’re expecting it be if you’ve only ever experienced the Oscar/Felix dynamic via the 70s sitcom (or, worse, the recent remake). Touchstones have this habit of being worn down over time, the jagged edges that made them interesting gradually disappearing. Seeing the show on stage brings the edges to the fore again, letting you see things with new eyes and recognising exactly how smart Neil Simon is as a playwright.

The season runs until November 8. If you’re a writer type, in Brisbane, I strongly recommend grabbing a copy of Bell’s book to read beforehand and then seeing a production.

If you’re not a writer, I recommend just going to see the show. It really is that good.