2012 — 3 October: Wednesday
I have often shaved using the (thought) razor offered by William of Ockham1 but, this morning, I was amused to be introduced to a neat variation by (of all things) a purveyor of 'smutty' literature. I was less amused by the revelation of a category of books "Banned by Amazon":
The work I wanted to point out to you today is a little bit different. Titled Secret Confessions of a High-Priced Call Girl, it's the (verified) true account of a professional woman's encounters with athletes, businessmen, lawyers, an Arab Prince, and especially one Hollywood Writer/Director/Producer by the name of Aaron Sorkin. Our author was in fact the source for Laurie on the West Wing. Book has been mildly redacted for half a decade — just an amazing bevy of dirty tricks, including being unavailable for sale right after the author was interviewed in Hustler and elsewhere about Sorkin, appearing in an implausibly bad ebook format by another publisher, not showing up on Amazon save as out of print unless you looked real carefully. I'm a firm believer in Hanlon's Razor (never ascribe to malice that which is adequately explained by incompetence), but the things that were done to her title(s) really smack of malfeasance. Her Turkish edition, by comparison, has gone to market entirely unmolested despite the whole Erdogan-Less-Secular-Please thing, and is still selling well.
I shall, of course, now find even more to enjoy on my latest journey through my treasured West Wing DVDs :-)
Meanwhile in the real world I really need to get in a fresh set of groceries, but I think I can still rustle up a little breakfast first. And another cuppa.
I like footnotes
I was reading my new book by Christopher Grey last night. Despite his promise (in his first footnote — just like PG Wodehouse in his gloriously funny memoir Over Seventy) "to dispense with what the novelist JD Salinger called the aesthetic evil of the footnote" a later one made me laugh out loud. He'd just described how he had initially studied economics at university with a view to being an investment banker, and gone on to say how he'd also supported the miners on principle as he then harboured a "generalised hostility to all things Thatcherite". He obviously felt the need for some further explanation, and provided it via another footnote at that point:
Don't ask me to explain how I reconciled this with my desire to be a merchant banker. I don't know whether I knew at the time, and I certainly can't make sense of it now.
Such academic honesty predisposes me to read on.
I wonder...
... from time to time why I keep reading pieces like this. But then the occasional paragraph illuminates both me and — if I'm lucky — the ostensible subject:
Austen doesn't do much out-and-out moralising — certainly not as much as Dickens or Eliot. Her irony leaves a lot of room for argument about a particular character's habits and actions. But the necessity of making the judgements, of thinking and talking them through, could not be more explicit, nor more timely. Our cultural climate is dominated, in part, by two forms of entertainment which only make sense in the context of constant social judgement. One is the self-help book, which asks readers to judge themselves. The other is reality television, where the viewing pleasure comes from judging the people on screen. Jane Austen could not be a better fit.
Groceries safely gathered. It's nice and sunny out there so I'm tempted to trot out again. And (un)wicked Uncle ERNIE has just promised to send me a Postal Order for £25 sometime this month. Sweet of him.
Before nipping out...
... for the third time (this time to collect whatever Mr Postie decided wouldn't fit through my letterbox while I was out in Soton) I shall catch up on today's little haul of goodies. Three books:
Mary Roach is a very entertaining picker-up and recounter of amusing facts. Bernie Krause was, half a lifetime ago, half of "Beaver and Krause" who in 1971 brought us the magnificent Gandharva with the track "By your Grace" recorded (where else?) in Grace Cathedral, San Francisco with its amazing (long-delay) acoustic. I last tried, and gave up on, "Wuthering Heights" back in Junior School. I think I may now be ready for it.
[Pause, while I do some drizzle dodging.]
Two DVDs, and a double CD compilation:
I've decided to give "The Pirates!" a try, and I've heard only good things about "Salmon Fishing". As for the CD, well, I had high hopes ten years ago that the BBC would bring us more than just two measley compilations from Radio 3's "Late Junction" — both of which are now (of course) long deleted. So I'm going to harbour similar hopes of 6Music and this 'live' compilation. You never know...
Do I prefer...
... the harpsichord or the piano? Tricky; very tricky. There was more ragged timing in Elaine's performance and the occasional duff note. Christian's performance was smooth and refined, but nowhere near as stirring. Thanks for the links, Zeno!