Sunday, December 17, 2017

Lazy Sunday Service

I finally found time to get to the local bookshop to pick up some Christmas reading: Resurrection Bay by Emma Viskic; A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman; A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles; and A Thousand Falling Crows by Larry Sweazy. Hopefully I'll also pick-up The Bird Tribunal by Agnes Ravatn, which had been put to one side for me but was lost among similar piles. Looking forward to some time to relax and enjoy these over the seasonal break. I also bought Slumberland by Paul Beatty and Spook Street by Mick Herron (who wrote my two favourite reads of November) to read early next year.

My posts this week:
Review of Bryant and May – The Burning Man by Christopher Fowler
New paper: The (In)Security of Smart Cities: Vulnerabilities, Risks, Mitigation, and Prevention
November reads
Won’t is not the same as can’t

Saturday, December 16, 2017

Won’t is not the same as can’t

‘You have one life, Beth. You need to leave him and enjoy being alive again.’

‘It’s not that simple.’

‘But better than living in fear. Or hiding these.’

Mary tugged up a sleeve to reveal a bruise.

Beth yanked it down again.

‘He’s just under a lot stress. Occasionally he flips.’

‘Stop making excuses for him. Lots of people are under pressure but they don’t smack their partners about.’

‘He doesn’t smack me about.’

‘And those bruises made themselves.’

‘Mary, just leave it.’

‘I will when you leave him.’

‘You know, I can’t.’

‘Won’t is not the same as can’t.’



A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Review of Bryant and May – The Burning Man by Christopher Fowler (Doubleday, 2015)

The end of October and a scheming banker has not only collapsed a private merchant bank, he seems to be getting away with it. The injustice has not just anti-capitalists on the streets of London, but also ordinary citizens. In the depths of austerity it seems people have had enough of the blatant greed. One man, however, is taking his protest further than others and appears to be using his actions to try and whip the crowds into more of a frenzy. He starts by throwing a petrol bomb at the bank, killing a homeless man taking refuge in the doorway. Next he tars and feathers a banker. Each day there is another victim and soon it’ll be Guy Fawkes night when bonfires will lit across the nation. Trying to stop the arsonist is Bryant and May and the Peculiar Crimes Unit of the Met Police. Hampered by other sections of the police and the bank, the two old detectives and their assistants race against time to find useful clues, worried that the city might go up in flames.

The Burning Man is the twelfth book in the Bryant and May series. In this outing they are trying to stop an arsonist wreaking revenge on people working in the banking sector after another financial scandal and who seems to be orchestrating the sentiments of a restless and angry public. After years of working for the Peculiar Crimes Unit, Bryant and May are long in the tooth and well versed in tackling difficult cases, but this one has them taxed. The killer is clever and quick moving, dispatching one person a day, and Bryant is starting to suffer from dementia. The climax of the week is going to be Guy Fawkes night at which point the city could tip-over into full-scale anarchy. There is much to like about The Burning Man: the wonderful set of characters, especially Bryant, and their interactions; the deep sense of place and all the historical factual snippets that are woven into the narrative; its political sensibilities and its critique of the ‘one percent’; and the lucid and engaging storytelling with a rising sense of tension. The story just carries the reader along in an entertaining, dark, and at time humorous romp. There were just two bumps in the tale – the fact that I was pretty confident I knew the identity of the killer from near the start; and the ending was a bit of damp squib. Nonetheless, a very enjoyable read.


Monday, December 11, 2017

November reads

Late with noting my November reads.  Difficult to pick between The Sellout by Paul Beatty and Real Tigers by Mick Herron. I think the The Sellout just shades it, but they are both excellent.

The Sellout by Paul Beatty *****
Codebreakers by James Wyllie and Michael McKinley ***.5
Ten Dead Comedians by Fred Van Lente ***
Real Tigers by Mick Herron *****
Birds in a Cage by Derek Niemann ****
A Rising Man by Abir Mukherjee ****
Map of the Nation: A Biography of the Ordnance Survey by Rachel Hewitt ***

Sunday, December 10, 2017

Lazy Sunday Service

Given winter seems to be gearing up with the first largish (by Irish standards) snow fall, I thought I'd whisk myself away to Siberia where they really know how to do freezing landscapes with Stuart Kaminsky's A Cold Red Sunrise. Making me feel positively warm.

My posts this week:
Review of Death of a Doxy by Rex Stout
New paper: slow computing
Review of The Man With the Poison Gun by Serhii Plokhy
Buried treasure

Saturday, December 9, 2017

Buried treasure

Conor thrust the spade into the glue-like clay, then stomped on it with muddy boots.

He leveraged back the handle, easing a block free. The clay stuck to the face and he slid it off with a gloved hand.

A glint of gold caught his eye. Digging at the soil revealed a solid gold band.

Clambering out of the hole he yelled to his wife. ‘I’ve struck gold!’

‘Don’t be daft, Conor.’

‘Look, see.’

She turned the intricate band over. ‘It looks like it belongs in a museum.’

‘Buried treasure! I guess I better find another spot to bury Lucky!’



A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

Thursday, December 7, 2017

Review of Death of a Doxy by Rex Stout (Viking, 1966)

Orrie Cather is in a bind. He’s engaged to be married, but has been having an affair with a woman who is unwilling to let him go. Then she is murdered and Orrie is the number one suspect. Fortunately for Orrie he works for Nero Wolfe, the celebrated private detective. Wolfe believes that Orrie is innocent but the problem will be proving it. Soon a new twist is added to the investigation. The murdered woman was a doxy – the kept woman of rich businessman, and that man will pay Wolfe fifty thousand dollars if he can solve the case and keep his name a secret. Slowly Wolfe, his faithful assistant, Archie, and the rest of the team winkle out some clues. Eventually they have a suspect. But how can they ensnare the murderer, spring Orrie, and keep the sugar daddy’s name a secret?

Death of a Doxy was the forty second instalment of the Nero Wolfe series, published in 1966 (the first in the series was published in 1934). In this outing, Wolfe and the narrator, Archie, are tasked with clearing the name of one of their detectives accused of murder. The case is already a bit of a puzzle when it’s made a little more tricky by the addition of a silence clause – the sugar daddy of the victim will pay handsomely for his name to remain unknown. It’s a challenge they’re prepared to accept. At this stage of the series, Wolfe and Archie are well drawn characters, there’s a deep well of back story, and Stout is versed in crafting a story that has intrigue, a neat puzzle, well-staged set pieces, and nicely drawn characters. The storytelling is tight and all show not tell. Stout keeps the reader guessing as to the ending, which is a little ambiguous, though no less satisfying for that. Overall, a quick, entertaining read.

Tuesday, December 5, 2017

Review of The Man With the Poison Gun by Serhii Plokhy (Oneworld, 2016)

In the late 1950s two leading Ukrainian nationalist leaders were murdered in Munich. Both deaths baffled the nationalist groups and West German police. In the fall of 1961, just before the Berlin wall was erected, Bogdan Stashinsky and his East German wife skipped the funeral of their baby and made a dash into West Berlin. Stashinsky headed to the local CIA headquarters and claimed he was a KGB assassin who had murdered Lev Rebet and Stepan Bandera using a secret poison gun. The Americans were suspicious that he might be a plant and passed him over to their West German colleagues. Slowly, Stashinsky, also a Ukrainian forced to work for the KGB, persuaded the police that he was who he said he was, and that he had murdered his compatriots. The subsequent trial placed the Soviet Union on trial as much as Stashinsky and the result had long term implications – Stashinsky was effectively deemed a puppet, with the real murderers those who controlled him, creating a legitimate new legal defence for Nazi war criminals; the KGB was forced to change its policy of overseas political assassination; there was a reshuffle at the top of the Soviet political system, with Aleksandr Shelepin’s career cut short; and the plight of Ukrainian nationalist movement was highlighted.

Serhii Plokhy’s book traces the life of Bogdan Stashinsky, particularly from his entrapment recruitment by the KGB through to his disappearance after his short prison stay post-trial. It’s a factual account that tries to cut through all the misinformation about Stashinsky created by the Ukrainian nationalists, the KGB and East Germans, especially at the time of the trial, when the Cold War propaganda machine went into overdrive. While it does seek to provide an objective view, it is also a largely sympathetic account of a man trying to survive inside the KGB and Soviet system that had a habit of severely punishing its own members for supposed and real transgressions. Usefully, it provides an everyday account of Soviet spycraft, Cold War relations between East and West, and the fragmented overseas Ukrainian nationalist movement that sought to highlight the plight of captive nations of the Soviet Union. It is only towards the end that books drifts to speculation given that what became of Stashinsky after prison is publicly unknown. I found it a fascinating read, especially given the present context of strained relations between the Ukraine and Russia.

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Lazy Sunday Service

Since I was heading to London last week I decided to take a read of Christopher Fowler's 'Bryant and May: The Burning Man.' I read the first book in the series when it was first published in paperback, but for some reason never got round to reading any others. Now I'm wondering why as this outing has all the ingredients I love in a story - great characters, interesting plot, social commentary, and strong sense of place. I think the series might become my travelling to London reads for the next few years.


My posts this week

Review of The Sellout by Paul Beatty
New paper: The timescape of smart cities
Sitting ducks

Saturday, December 2, 2017

Sitting ducks

It took a brief moment for Finnegan to realise a shot had been fired. Then he was diving towards Kelly Meakin.

The actress hit the wet pavement, Finnegan sprawled on top of her.

A second shot had him trying to cover her.

‘Finn?’

‘We’re sitting ducks,’ he muttered, ignoring her.

‘Finn, my shoulder.’

He risked a look.

Her dress was covered in blood.

‘We need to go.’

Finn scooped her up and started to run.

‘I told you.’

‘Now’s not the time for point scoring.’

A third shot and his legs buckled.

‘I don’t want to die, Finn … Finn?’



A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

Thursday, November 30, 2017

Review of The Sellout by Paul Beatty (Oneworld, 2015)

The Sellout is the story of how the unnamed narrator – called ‘The Sellout’ by one character, and ‘Bonbon’ by another – becomes infamous through his efforts to place Dickens, a town in South Central Los Angeles, back onto the map and to challenge ideas of race and racism within the black community. Bought up and home-schooled on a small two acre urban farm by his single father, a reasonably well-known psychology/sociology professor, The Sellout has a deep appreciation of the structural violence committed against and by the black community. Drawing on this knowledge his method is to use situationalist-like tactics to unsettle and disrupt deep-rooted thinking and social relations, including painting the old city boundary back onto the landscape, altering road signs, making a city block appear as if an exclusive white school is about to be built there, placing signs on buses to create white-only areas, and generally re-segregating the community, not only between white and black, but also the Mexicans, Asians, etc. Aiding him in the task is Hominy Jenkins, the last surviving Little Rascal, a group of black kids who starred in a dozens of short movies from the 1930s-50s playing racist stereotypes, who self-declares himself the narrator’s slave. While his work seems to be having a positive effect on those living in Dickens, through some strange reverse-psychology, his actions land him in hot water and a case that makes its way to the Supreme Court.

I loved The Sellout. It’s smart, sassy, outrageous, knowledgeable, and laugh-out loud funny. It is highly entertaining tale, with a great set of characters and an engaging storyline, yet also makes one reflect and think on a whole bunch of social issues and the history of race relations and places. It might well be the best recent book on race and racism in contemporary United States and I would love to see it taught on the school curriculum. At the same time I’m grateful I don’t belong to a book group as I suspect we’d need a few months to discuss everything going on in the narrative rather than a couple of hours. It’s easy to understand why it has won a number of major awards. Definitely worth reading, and I plan to read Paul Beatty’s other books.

Sunday, November 26, 2017

Lazy Sunday Service

After a long battle with cancer my father died peacefully on Friday evening. It was a tough old day, but he still found ways to make us all smile at the end as well. I'm going to miss him a lot. The video below was made a couple of months ago to help promote the work of Maggies at Clatterbridge. Both Dad and Mum found Maggies to be a wonderful resource and made some good friends there.

Mervyn Kitchin (19 Nov 1944 - 24 Nov 2017).



My posts this week:
Review of Codebreakers by James Wyllie and Michael McKinley
Review of Ten Dead Comedians by Fred Van Lente
New paper: Algorhythmic governance: Regulating the ‘heartbeat’ of a city using the Internet of Things
Donuts

Saturday, November 25, 2017

Donuts

‘You want me to do what?’

‘Some of those donut thingys.  Out on the main road.’

‘Granddad, I think …’

‘Everyone knows you nick cars and go joyriding, Tom.’

‘But …’

‘But nothing. I’m eighty three and it’s time I did something stupid.’

‘But …’

‘Just shut the fuck up and drive the bloody car.’

‘Don’t blame me if you have a heart attack.’

Tom revved the engine and dropped the clutch. He handbreaked into the first corner. Out past Jones’ farm he started to spin the car.

‘Yeehaw!’

‘You mad old bastard.’

‘Where’d you’d think you’re genes came from?’


A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

Friday, November 24, 2017

Review of Codebreakers by James Wyllie and Michael McKinley (2015, Ebury Press)

Codebreakers tells the story of codebreaking by the British in the First World War and how it impacted on the course of the war and specific actions. The book covers a number of themes, such as the art of codebreaking, which often relied as much on dare-doing elsewhere to recover code books; the institutional politics in and between government agencies, and specifically Room 40 and other units; international politics and especially tackling German spying in America, and attempts to bring the US into the war. The tale is told in a loose chronological order and mainly focuses on particular key individuals, their personalities and stories. The strength and the weakness of the book is that it tends towards the large picture and spying in general, rather than specifically on codebreaking. Clearly, codebreaking is a key aspect of spy work and how it functions and used fits into a larger set of practices. At the same time it would have been interesting to get more insight into the actual day-to-day work of the codebreakers and their strategies and work. As the authors note, this was limited by a lack of written archival sources. Nonetheless, Codebreakers is an interesting and informative read, detailing a number of now little-known but important events and the intersection of codebreaking, politics and military action in the First World War.

Thursday, November 23, 2017

Review of Ten Dead Comedians by Fred Van Lente (Quirk Books, 2017)

Nine US comedians, who each perform a different form of comedy and are at varying stages of career fortunes, are invited by legendary Hollywood funnyman, Dustin Walker, to spend a week on a Caribbean island. They are accompanied by a naïve event organizer and wannabe comedian, Meredith. The ten arrive on the island to find it deserted, with their host dead. There is no mode of communication with the outside world, food and drink is in short supply, and soon they are being murdered through a variety of means. As the group shrinks, paranoia and strained alliances form. Will any of them be left alive at the end?

Ten Dead Comedians is a modern day take on Agatha Christie’s ‘And Then There Were None’. Ten comedians and almost strangers (a number know or have met each other) are seduced to a remote Caribbean island to meet Dustin Walker, a legendary funnyman whose career has hit the skids after several flops. The island is deserted and in turn each is killed as they search to identify the murderer and a means to leave the island. Van Lente’s main twist is to make each character a different type of comedian, who’re at varying stages of their career, to infuse the tale with dark humour. The story unfolds in a linear fashion, punctuated by comedy routines by each of the comedians in which their supposed crime takes place. The concept of the story is a nice one and some of the set pieces are nicely inventive; the issue is the execution. While the tale is full of comedians it is not full of comedy, or at least I didn’t find myself laughing out loud. And the characters are all quite shallow and hollow and do not invite any emotional investment. Also, the perpetrator is kind of obvious, though not necessarily how the murders are being orchestrated. The result was an interesting without being spellbinding or side-splitting tale.