Oh, I have had a fun month of reading. Those of you who know me, may be wondering how I actually fit in reading between the chaos of renovating my new house. I’m not exactly sure how it happened either, but it’s working, and I’ve got a lot to share!

The Original Illustrated Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, illustrated by Sidney Paget

Before picking this up, the only Sherlock Holmes story I had read was the full-length novel, The Hound of the Baskervilles. I’m finding the rest of the stories highly entertaining, and am now super excited to see the new movie with Robert Downey Jr and Jude Law. Of note, this edition of the book (Castle Books, 1985) has reprinted the stories as they originally appeared in the Strand Magazine, complete with columns and illustrations.

Doyle chose a very interesting way to tell these stories—as most of you know, from the point of view of the sidekick, Dr. Watson. I rarely read narratives which are told in first person, but which do not focus inwardly at all on the storyteller himself. Watson is a shockingly invisible sidekick, and really doesn’t do much at all to solve the cases. I also find myself wondering how on earth he finds the time to attend to all of Sherlock Holmes’ mysteries when he’s a practicing doctor and recently married to boot.

At any rate, I love reading half or all of a case before bed, as they are fairly short (and not scary at all, which is refreshing with all the second rate crime on TV that glorifies inane violence and disgusting close-ups of open wounds).

The House of the Seven Gables by Nathaniel Hawthorne

This house, in Salem, Mass., was Hawthorne's inspiration. Given the location, you can understand why the haunting story has its roots in the witch hunts.

I can’t get enough of books like this one. While reading it, I was consistently reminded of another novel, Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier (which is one of my all-time favorite books, and I recently saw a wonderful performance of it at the Theatre in the Round on Washington Ave., Minneapolis) However, Hawthorne’s tale is less haunting than Rebecca, and at times, a wee bit boring. I do NOT mean to deter you from reading this one, since I am really happy myself to have read it. The House of the Seven Gables was Hawthorne’s own favorite—above The Scarlet Letter. As it is extremely character driven (rather than plot driven), just don’t go into it expecting a rolicking mind-blow, and you’ll come to be fascinated with the Pyncheon family. It’s a fantastic ghostly story, perfect for autumn.

Inspector Cadaver (An Inspector Maigret Mystery) by Georges Simenon

This was a very quick read that kept my attention, but unfortunately had a rather unsatisfying end. I haven’t read any other Maigret mysteries, but I wouldn’t let the ending of this one keep me from reading another.

I just love this era of detective novels. Set in probably the 1920s or 1930s French countryside, the narrative is more sensitive to the psychology of people and their motives, rather than focusing on minute technical details. And its not a chasing story. I have a gripe against modern crime novels, as you’ve probably noticed by now, which seem always to have the main character running away from an impending murder, only to escape at the last second because an “everyday hero”—often a journalist or a big-city professional who is not accustomed to solving crimes—is thrust into the situation and wins against all odds. Lame.

Go Maigret, a real detective—one who understands the importance of slowing down long enough during the case for a snifter of cognac.

Who was Sherlock Holmes? The enemy of our time, surely. The question itself suggests why.

Many fans of Conan Doyle’s series like to play what they call ‘The Great Game’, in which they pretend that Holmes and Watson were real and that Conan Doyle was merely their literary agent. As one might expect, the game’s first move consists of endorsing the ‘gentle fiction’ (as Leslie S. Klinger, one of its greatest players, has called it) that William Sherlock Scott Holmes was born in 1845 and that he must have died some time ago now. But if I might make a modest proposal, such fiction is anything but gentle. For it may be a harbinger, and also a cause, of that most melancholy of objects, none other than the end of our civilization. Let me explain.

Distinguishing between fiction and non-fiction is essential to the reality of our everyday lives. ‘The everyday’, as we might call it, is where most of us (adults) spend most of our time: it is the domain of family and work, of ethics and politics, indeed of the whole matrix of personal and social practices. And all of these are, of course, fundamentally non-fictional.

There exists another non-fictional dimension, to be sure, that of ‘the natural’. It is where we may be said to go whenever we don the white coat of the natural scientist and look at things from a disengaged perspective, grasping reality as it exists independently of our everyday purposes. Modern science has brought with it enormous powers, but these have also come with great threats – as the many philosophers who have written of the dangers of a technological world-view have warned.

Essentially, these thinkers’ main worry is that the everyday is being colonized by the natural. What they tend to overlook, however, is the threat coming from ‘the other side’, so to speak, by which I mean from ‘the aesthetic’. This is a dimension of fiction rather than non-fiction, and yet it is no less real because of that. It is where we go whenever we do one of three things: savour, imagine, or play. By savour I mean to refer to the act of taking pleasure in a thing’s beauty, in how, as Kant once described, it appears to our senses for its own sake. When we imagine, by contrast, we use the capacity that Vico called fantasia in order, for example, to make or grasp metaphors, or to ‘put ourselves in another’s shoes’, as the saying goes. And regarding play, we need to be playful if we are to make, or at least get, jokes, as well as, of course, to play games, wherein we conform to systematic rules that are set apart from our everyday lives. These rules are set apart because they, too, must be at least partly followed for their own sake instead of for their ability to serve our everyday values. Why should I kick the ball in that goal or shoot the puck in this net? Because that is how the game is played, nothing more. And why can I not pick up the ball with my hands or kick the puck in with my skate? Because such actions would violate the rules – rules, again, which exist simply because we could not play without them.

‘Come, Watson, come! The game is afoot.’ Now this has, of course, been taken to be Sherlock Holmes’s rallying cry, and it says a great deal about how he conceives of his cases. For though he is undoubtedly quoting Shakespeare (Henry V to be exact), where the reference is to a hunt’s quarry, to the deer or wild boar whose chase was led by greyhounds, Holmes’s meaning is also that which comes most naturally to us today: the idea of competitive play. Because, above all, Holmes is a man in it for the fun.

‘I play the game for the game’s own sake’ was thus how he once corrected his brother Mycroft when the latter suggested that much fame would come to the man who solved a particularly important case. True, Holmes used to care a great deal about recognition, but that was in his younger days, before he abandoned this value altogether in order to ensconce himself fully in the aesthetic. He came to treat money in the very same way, making it into yet another everyday item that held no interest for him (as we see from his decision to work upon a fixed scale – when he did not remit his charges altogether, that is). Indeed Holmes’s disdain for the everyday only grew and grew, so much so that he came to conceive of his whole life as but ‘one long effort to escape from the commonplace of existence’. So it should come as no surprise that, bemoaning the lack of ‘audacity and romance’ that appeared to have passed from the criminal world, he would often inject himself with a seven per cent solution of cocaine in order to stave off boredom. For it is nothing but boredom that, as Kierkegaard once pointed out, is the bane of all who would lead an aesthetic life.

What a sad spectacle. But what should we expect from a man who looks back on the 50 murderers in his career as if they were players in a game – or actors on a stage? For that, too, is how Holmes sometimes views his cases. As he himself once pointed out: ‘Watson insists that I am the dramatist in real life. Some touch of the artist wells up within me, and calls insistently for a well staged performance.’ And what is his justification for treating such serious business in a theatrical way? Yet again nothing but the aesthete’s desire to stave off boredom, for ’surely our profession would be a drab and sordid one if we did not sometimes set the scene so as to glorify our results’. In response, we have only to cite Holmes’s own words back at him: ‘To the man who loves art for its own sake, it is frequently in its least important and lowliest manifestations that the keenest pleasure is to be derived.’ No wonder he was such a fan of Wagner.

‘Come, friend Watson, the curtain rings up for the last act.’ Again and again, Holmes can be heard explicitly invoking his friendship with Watson. It seems to me, however, that he insists upon it just a little too much. He does so because he suspects that he and Watson are not genuine friends after all and that, moreover, it is he himself who is to blame for this. The reason is simple: his aestheticism has kept him from developing the steadfastness and sensitivity to others that real friendship requires. How else to explain his abominable treatment of the man who was his roommate, associate and biographer? Of the many examples that one might cite, the most manifest is surely his keeping Watson ignorant – for three long years and for the flimsiest of reasons – of the fact that he was not, after all, killed during his struggle with Dr Moriarty at the Reichenbach Falls in Switzerland (where, it’s worth mentioning, members of the various international Sherlock Holmes societies make a pilgrimage every May 4th to commemorate the ‘death’ of their beloved hero). No real friend would ever have behaved in such a terrible manner – which is why we need to recognize that Holmes has never been a real friend to anyone, indeed, that he is simply incapable of friendship. Because what is friendship if not an everyday rather than aesthetic thing, more like milk than honey? Watson, then, could never serve as anything more than a tool for Holmes’s aesthetic endeavours. And indeed he never did so, no matter how much he may have believed otherwise.

However surely the worst of Holmes’s transgressions was one perpetrated upon those of us in the everyday rather than imaginary world. For though some might consider this but a philosopher’s conceit, it seems to me that Holmes’s greatest contribution to the blurring of fiction and non-fiction arises from the highly detrimental effect that he has had on our conception of rationality. For how is it that so many have failed to notice that the cold logic he proudly and repeatedly claims to employ is nothing of the kind? Holmes does not deduce, moving from general premises to specific conclusions, but abduce, which is a very different form of ‘reasoning’. At base, it consists of the examination of a series of seemingly unrelated phenomena in order to arrive at a hypothesis about their connection on the grounds of intuition − of a hunch, essentially − and what is a hunch if not a product of the imagination? ‘The first rule of detective work,’ Holmes has helpfully declared more than once, is to ‘imagine any possible alternatives.’ Moreover, when it comes to validating the hypothesis, this is to be done by determining that it is the best possible explanation for the data through an application of Occam’s razor, which is to say by judging it on the basis of elegance and simplicity. But what are these if not further aesthetic standards?

So Holmes blurs the border between the everyday and the aesthetic. And nowadays it is much more than just his fans or, as one might expect, philosophers (from the postmodernist to John Rawls and Charles Taylor) who enjoy conflating reason and the imagination, games and serious life, the good and the beautiful. Because one might also invoke some of our leading historians (think of the French school of the ’social imaginary’), political scientists and economists (think game theory), journalists (think ‘infotainment’), filmmakers (think Oliver Stone), comics (think Jerry Seinfeld or Larry David, their opposites being The Daily Show’s John Stewart and Hotbox’s Pat Thornton), and novelists (think Martin Amis, for whom ‘A novel is a rational undertaking’, or Clancy Martin). Many, many others could be mentioned as well. Which is why I feel it necessary to conclude with a humble warning, namely, that this blurring can only lead to one thing, and that is the aestheticization of our politics. Think of how often already it has been reduced to spectacle, to events consumed by spectators in which players compete or act according to classic plays, tropes or archetypes. And when this happens − when, as The Tragically Hip sing, the struggle has a name − can fascism be far behind?

Holmes, or should I say Conan Doyle, has much to answer for.

“It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important.”

~ Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Mkay peoples.  The lovely Kals is hosting her very first challenge over at her equally lovely blog.  I’m not even going to waste time asking you to join in because I know you will.  Immediately.  What is the topic you ask?  Well, I will give you some hints:

1.  Knitting needles

2. Magnificent moustaches

3. Pipes that are usually filled with tobacco, but sometimes that kooky rascal Opium shows up too.

Put them all together and what have you got….

That’s right.  Kals is calling on all book lovers to get knee-deep in stories from three of the greatest mystery solving characters EVER.  The challenge is a year long undertaking beginning on January 1, 2010 and ending on December 31, 2010.  The basic premise is to choose two books from each of our nosy crime fighters and complete them within the year.  Please read the full details and sign up here.

I, for one, am really frigging excited about it.

Investigating Obama

by Snidely Whiplash

The Game is Afoot Watson

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes laid it all out for us when in The Sign of the Four, detective Holmes uttered “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” That’s where we find our nation today.

No matter how many questions are asked of the Obama Administration the answer is always the same – “We have it under control,” or “it’s deficit neutral,” or “we have saved or created “X” number of jobs,” and of course my two favorites, “the critics are mistaken,” or best of all, just ignore the question.

News broke yesterday government is advising women they no longer need mammograms in their 40’s and only one every two years after 50. Surgeons and oncologists have exploded onto the scene criticizing this effort by government to ration health care. Of course the Obama Administration says the critics are just wrong.

Congressional Budget Office (CBO) says the actual costs of health care will add significantly to the deficit. This morning I saw a woman who was the former head of the CBO stating the cuts in medicare and the proposed health plans will harm the medical system, not deliver the promised care and end up rationing health care, drive up costs and budget shortfalls and causing huge number of doctors to retire from the profession.

Our President has had 22 meetings since January 20th with the head of the SEIU, but met twice for about 2 hours total with his hand picked leader in Afghanistan. We have a President who tells us not to jump to conclusions about obvious sectarian terrorism at Ft. Hood, but he has no problem jumping to conclusions by stating “the actions of the Cambridge police were stupid.” (paraphrased)

The Obama Administration loves to tell us what a mess they inherited yet hear this week the Bush initiated Medicare related plans have come in under budget. Gee, somehow the Obama Administration missed that, or at least failed to mention it. They never fail to point the finger of blame.

To continue reading the conclusion of Snidely’s article, click HERE

Los detectives más famosos de Londres, Sherlock Holmes (Dominic Keating) y su compañero el Dr. John H. Watson (Gareth David-Lloyd), se medirán al mayor desafío de sus vidas al hacer frente al ataque de varios monstruos gigantes. El 26 de enero de 2010 y con motivo del estreno de la superproducción del mismo nombre a manos de Guy Ritchie, la productora Asylum lleva a los personajes de Doyle durante 90 minutos al mismísimo apocalipsis.

A la hora de la elección del reparto y la dirección se ha optado por una mezcla de experiencia y talento a partes desiguales. Para Keating supone su primer papel protagonista, pero su trayectoria le avala como un valor seguro gracias a su pasado teatral, su extensa participación en televisión en series de éxito como Heroes o Prison Break y en películas entre las que destaca Beowulf. Por su parte, David-Lloyd también posee un amplio curriculum en series como The Bill y actuaciones en varios largometrajes. La conducción de la cinta ha recalado sin embargo en la prácticamente desconocida Rachel Goldenberg, que abordará su segundo proyecto tras el rotundo fracaso de Sunday School Musical, nacida tras el triunfo en taquilla de los musicales adolescentes de Disney.

Con el evidente bajo presupuesto y este dispar reparto se nos presenta al detective de la eterna pipa en uno de sus desafíos más grandes, imponentes y, desde luego, más bizarros. Dinosaurios y seres mitológicos amenazan el futuro de la humanidad empezando desde la capital inglesa en pleno siglo XIX. Si Sir Arthur Conan Doyle levantara la cabeza…

As promised, I will continue my ongoing SIDEWISE commentary. I will do my best to get caught up so I need only write commentary for page 15 (which will be posted here Thursday).

PAGES 6 & 7

Pages 6 and 7 are the in-your-face action pages. It was almost entirely artist Igor Norohna’s idea. You see, I was extremely busy when we began working on SIDEWISE, so I simply suggested “Hey, let’s have some action on these pages.” The end result is what you see: a stylized battle scene with the Queen’s robot army that showcases the abilities of their exo-suits. I simply went back and added dialogue after the pages were complete.

Well done, Igor. Take a bow.

PAGE 8

Page 8 was our last chance to hook readers and make ‘em hungry for more. It was also my intent to question the nature of reality. “And that’s exactly what it was.” In light of Adam’s previous statement, perhaps there’s more to this assertion than meets the eye?

Did you think Wells’ “Come with me if you wish to live” was a nod to the Terminator films? It was. A tongue-in-cheek reference to one of the greatest action flicks of all-times. Why not?

PAGE 9

This is one of my favorite pages. Igor really captured my vision of a “Teslafied” Buckingham Palace. The Tesla coil powered force field is especially important in the future, but I won’t give it away. Keep reading.

Page 9 is also particularly important because it introduces the Knights of Hanover: Dr. Fain, Sir Campion, Lord Tritton and Major Wilson. In case you didn’t notice, the Knights are manifestly strange.

More on that later.

PAGE 10

Introducing the monstrosity that was once Queen Victoria! I really wanted to impress readers with the strangeness of the Queen. Igor really nailed it.

This is also the first mention of Minister Moriarty. Is he the Moriarty from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes books? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Regardless, he is a major player in the story and–as we find out later–a bitter rival of Lord Tesla. Why? You’ll just have to continue reading to find out.

Th-Th-That’s All, Folks

I need to get back to work, but I’ll post commentary on the remaining pages in the next couple days. I would say tomorrow, but I’d hate to become so busy that I lie to you (again).

Please take a moment to check out Parts 1 and 2 of my interview with Rocket Llama. The conclusion of the interview should be posted this week. Be sure to check my tweets for a link as soon as I get it.

Thank you for your patience. I appreciate you taking time out of your busy day to read my little blog.

vorleser.net kostenloser download

Hörbuch kostenlos bei www.vorleser.net

Erste Worte;

Überblicke, ich meine Berichte und Notizen über die von Sherlock Holmes behandelten Fällen aus den Jahre 1882 bis 90, so treten mir soviele absonderliche, interessante Züge entgegen, daß es mir schwer wird die besten auszusuchen.

(Quelle: kostenloser download, in zwei Teile auf www.vorleser.net, geschrieben von Sir Arthur Conan Doyle gesprochen von Wolfgang Gerber) Hörzeit: Teil 1 – 24:16 Minuten / Teil 2 – 25;57 Minuten

Sherlock Holmes und Dr. Watson dutzen sich! Das ist mir als aller erstes aufgefallen. In den meisten anderen Hörbuchreihen sietzen sich der Detektiv und der Mediziner selbst nach jahrelanger Wohngemeinschaft noch.

Fünf Apfelsinenkerne, per Post erhalten, versetzen einen jungen Mann in Angst und Schrecken. Er bittet Sherlock Holmes eindringlich um Hilfe, zumal zuvor sowohl der Vater als auch der Onkel des jungen Mannes nach erhalt von fünf Apfelsinenkernen unter mysteriösen Umständen ums Leben kam. Sherlock Holmes nimmt den äusserst spannenden Fall an – wunderbar gelesen von Wolfgang Gerber.

Yes, I’m talking about Sherlock Holmes new movie. Nggak sabar banget buat liat film ini~ Film ini bakal diputer di bioskop-bioskop Indo ga ya? I hope so! Sementara yang lain nunggu film 2012 atau New Moon, saia lebih antusias sama film satu ini.

Film yang disutradarai oleh Guy Ritchie ini katanya akan menampilkan sesuatu yang berbeda dari film-film Sherlock Holmes sebelumnya, sebuah action movie yang akan menampilkan Holmes yang sebenarnya sesuai dengan cerita original Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Film ini ditangani oleh studio Warner Bros movie (yang hasilnya pasti akan sangat menjanjikan ) dan shootingnya akan dilakukan di London.

Sosok Holmes diperankam oleh Robert Downey Jr, dan Jude Law akan memerankan sahabat Holmes, Dr. Watson. Mary -Watson’s love interest- diperankan oleh Kelly Reilly. Dan sosok wanita yang telah mengalahkan Holmes, Irene Adler diperankan oleh Rachel McAdams dan Mark Strong sebagai Blackwood, the ‘unremittingly evil’ baddie

Setau saia film ini direncanakan release di Amerika saat Natal, 25 Desember 2009 ini, tapi mungkin baru akan diputar disini pada awal 2010. Mungkin saat ulang tahun Holmes, 6 Januari, yang juga ultah saia? Hahaha, saia sangat mengharapkannya!

Holmes disini akan lebih fokus pada repressed English side dari karakter milik Sir Arthur dan statusnya sebagai seorang bohemian, seorang patriot, serta karakternya yang aneh bin nyentrik :p

The only thing I can say is “I’m very excited!” XD
Ada yang mau liat sama saia nanti?

Syracuse, NY — My dear friend Sir Arthur Conan Doyle once said, “Where there is no imagination there is no horror.” On All Hallows’ Eve, Syracuse was alive with ghouls, goblins and great costumes.

Some of the nights favorites were:

• Dexter Morgan
• Green man
• Lil Wayne
• Wolverine
• Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle
• Charlie Brown
• T-Pain
• Plaxico Burress
• Lion tamer
• Patty Hearst

After trudging around the Westcott all night in a T-shirt and bandanna, I lost the envelope of Polaroids I had stashed in my back pocket. Luckily, I had only dropped them in my friends car, whew.

These shots are from a Polaroid Sun 660, the latest addition to my instant photography arsenal. Enjoy.

- east coast paper boy

This Halloween (Saturday, October 31) from 10 pm – midnight on 89.3 KPCC, L.A. Theatre Works will air a sci-fi double bill:

The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells was adapted by Howard Koch and stars John de Lancie, Meagan Fay, Jerry Hardin, Gates McFadden, Leonard Nimoy, Daryl Schultz, Armin Shimerman, Brent Spiner, Tom Virtue and Wil Wheaton. Originally performed by Orson Welles and his Mercury Theatre of the Air, War of the Worlds is truly the mother of all space invasions, offering a rare combination of chills, thrills and great literature. Join actors from Star Trek and Star Trek:The Next Generation as they recreate this classic radio thriller. The breathless pace and convincing details make it clear why the 1938 broadcast of an “eyewitness report” of an invasion from Mars caused a nationwide panic. Stay tuned after the show for a post-performance interview with Leonard Nimoy.
 
The Lost World by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, adapted by John DeLancie, stars Josh Clark, Kyle Colerider-Krugh, Peter Paige, Kirsten Potter, Kate Steele, Tom Virtue and Kenneth Alan Williams.  The Lost World is a rollicking adventure that follows a scientific expedition deep into the Amazon jungle – right back into the time of dinosaurs and cavemen. Before Jurassic Park, before Indiana Jones – there was Sir Arhur Conan Doyle’s The Lost World!  Also: Learn about L.A.’s very own prehistoric explorers with a sound-rich tour of the Dinosaur Lab at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County.

The broadcast can be heard locally in Southern California on Saturday from 10 pm to midnight on KPCC 89.3 FM, and can also be streamed on demand at http://www.latw.org/.  Both productions are directed by Star Trek: The Next Generation’s John de Lancie.

# 30 #

The Zero Effect is one of my favorite movies probably because it is based on the great Sherlock Holmes short story A Scandal in Bohemia by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.  The film stars Bill Pullman as Daryl Zero (Sherlock Homes), a gifted but strange private detective who is socially awkward and inept.  His “Dr. Watson” is portrayed as Steve Arlo (Ben Stiller).  Zero keeps himself locked in his apartment where, like Holmes and his violin, he composes dreadful songs on his guitar and subsists on a diet of tuna, Tab, and amphetamines (Holmes’ drug use included morphine and other narcotics).

Paralleling A Scandal in Bohemia, Zero is retained by Gregory Stark (Ryan O’Neal), a wealthy man who hires Zero to investigate who is blackmailing him.  During the investigation Zero ventures outside of his apartment encountering Gloria Sullivan (Kim Dickens).  Gloria is based on the character Irene Adler, the only woman who had the wit to outdo Holmes, and he admired her for it.  Sullivan is the blackmailer (like Adler) and as the film progresses, they begin to fall in love.  While in the end of this movie Zero bests his Adler, because of his love and admiration for Sullivan he lets her go to leave the country with the blackmail money and hide from Stark who alludes to killing her.

This film was sort of a sleeper by mainstream Hollywood box office standards.  I give it a rose.  What gets this movie out of the dung heap is probably because I loved Doyle’s A Scandal in Bohemia as well as Zero’s eccentricities.  The movie’s storyline is much more interesting than most of the garbage seen in today’s films, network TV shows and porno movies.
I was also glad to see Ryan O’Neal again in something decent since the last time he starred in anything pleasing was Irreconcilable Differences (1984), Green Ice (1981) and So Fine (1981), all three in my opinion classics.

Zero Effect is well worth watching and if you have half a brain you won’t  want your two hours back.

Anon – A Century Of Thrillers: From Poe To Arlen (Daily Express, 1934)

James Agate – Foreword

Wilkie Collins – The Traveller’s Story of a Terribly Strange Bed
Wilkie Collins – Mad Monkton
Wilkie Collins – The Biter Bit
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle – The Adventure of the Speckled Band
Mary Shelley – The Mortal Immortal
Micheal Arlen – The Gentleman from America
R. H. Barham – The Leech of Folkstone
R. H. Barham – Jerry Jarvis’ Wig
R. H. Barham – The Spectre of Tappington
R. H. Barham – Singular Passage in the Life of the Late Henry Harris, Doctor of Divinity
Mrs Henry Wood – The Ebony Box
A. J. Alan – My Adventure at Chiselhurst
A. J. Alan – The Hair
Edgar Allan Poe – The Gold Bug
Edgar Allan Poe – The Cask of Amontillado
Edgar Allan Poe – The Murders in the Rue Morgue
Edgar Allan Poe – The Mystery of the Marie Roget
Edgar Allan Poe – The Pit and the Pendulum
Edgar Allan Poe – Berenice
Edgar Allan Poe – William Wilson
Edgar Allan Poe – The Masque of the Red Death
Nathaniel Hawthorne – Roger Malvin’s Burial
Nathaniel Hawthorne – Dr Heidegger’s Experiment
Nathaniel Hawthorne – The Grey Champion
Sir Walter Scott – Wandering Willie’s Tale
Sir Walter Scott – The Two Drovers
W. W. Jacobs – The Monkeys Paw
J. S. Le Fanu – Sir Dominick Sarsfield
J. S. Le Fanu – Mr Justice Harbottle
J. S. Le Fanu – Green Tea
Oscar Wilde – The Birthday of the Infanta
Charles Dickens – The Trial For Murder
Charles Dickens – The Story of the Bagmans Murder
Charles Dickens – No 1 Branch Line, The Signalman
Elizabeth Gaskell – The Squires Story
J. S. Fletcher – The Lighthouse of Shivering Sand
Anthony Trollope – Malachi’s Cove
Lord Lytton – The Haunted and the Haunters
Frederick Marryat – The Story of the Greek Slave
Algernon Blackwood – The Woman’s Ghost Story
Algernon Blackwood – Secret Worship
Mrs Oliphant – The Open Door
Ambrose Bierce – The Suitable Surroundings
Ambrose Bierce – One of the Missing
Ambrose Bierce – The Affair at Coulters Notch
Ambrose Bierce – A Tough Tussle
Ambrose Bierce – A Horseman in the Sky

One of the evil clones i mentioned on an earlier Century post.  According to E. F. Bleiler (The Guide To Supernatural Fiction,  Kent State Universtity Press, 1983)

“The CENTURY volumes were one of the results of Depression newspaper wars in Great Britain in the 1930’s. Books of enormous size, they were given as premiums for subscriptions, then taken over by commercial publishing (Hutchinson’s mostly).”

And to think these days we’re happy with the occasional Belles of St. Trinians DVD ….

Dor de bibliotecă, copil de bibliotecă… această madlenă e despre amândouă.

Mereu m-am simţit străină de lume, habar n-am de ce. Poate că unii dintre noi sunt decupaţi aiurea de mama natură şi, indiferent de circumstanţe, le e greu să-şi găsească locul şi rostul acolo unde li se spune sau îşi spun că s-ar afla. Poate că, pur şi simplu, nu au un loc, iar rostul lor e să bântuie la nesfârşit. Poate că lumea e străină de ea însăşi şi poate că singurătatea – solitudinea – e singura instanţă în care suntem întregi.

De curând am realizat că aş fi compromisă, dacă cineva m-ar obliga să socializez zilnic. M-am nevoit – moral – să fac asta pentru o vreme şi, o dată curse câteva săptămâni, simţeam că asist la funeraliile timpului şi spaţiului personal; mă simţeam prizonieră. Am dat-o naibii de moralitate şi mi-am văzut singură de ale mele. Ce uşurare! E grozav, fenomenal, supercalifragilistic şi restul sinonimelor la un loc. Nepreţuit.

Singurul companion pe care l-am suportat cu drag (aproape) dintotdeauna a fost cartea. Avem o istorie frumoasă eu şi cărţile. Eram printr-a doua, când mama a început să mă fredoneze excesiv cu cititul; eu nici gând n-aveam. Azi aşa, mâine iar, până într-o seară când i-a expirat răbdarea. Probabil refuzasem cu înverşunare, asta nu mai ştiu, ştiu doar că mi-a tras vreo două palme, mi-a proptit în braţe o carte subţirică şi a zis: nu ieşi din camera asta până nu citeşti – cu voce tare, să te aud. Îmi amintesc scena, ca şi cum o părăsisem şi contemplam cele întâmplate de la distanţă. Eram ghemuită pe canapeaua roşie, sprijinită într-o pernă mare, cu cartea rezemată de genunchi şi lacrimile curgând şiroaie pe obrajii fierbinţi şi dureroşi, udându-mi gâtul şi bluza. Era ceva cu poezii scurte şi avea ilustraţii în creion deasupra fiecăreia. Vedeam totul în ceaţă din cauza lacrimilor şi mă chinuiam să articulez cuvintele printre sughiţuri. Mă gândeam c-o urăsc pe mama şi cărţile şi c-o să mă fac mare şi n-o să mai citesc nimic, absolut nimic.

Paradoxal, peste un an, doi, îmi voi fi luat câteva scatoalce zdravene tocmai pentru că citeam cu prea multă dedicaţie. (zic să nu săriţi peste link, întregeşte istoria)

N-aş putea să spun cum s-a transformat indiferenţa-mi faţă de cărţi în adicţie incurabilă; cea mai potrivită expresie e pe nesimţite, aşa cum se întâmplă uneori şi cu dragostea de oameni. Peste puţină vreme citeam frenetic, de parcă volumele mi s-ar fi făcut cenuşă în palme, dacă nu le terminam îndeajuns de repede. Cărţile îmi erau acum un soi de fluid vital precum apa ori sângele. Îmi alungau sentimentul straniu pe care atunci nu-l puteam încă defini, fiorul acela rece de alienare; mă încălzeau, mă făceau să mă simt în siguranţă şi liniştită.

Când am terminat toate volumele de poveşti nemuritoare, seria Jules Verne, Cireşarii şi romanele franţuzeşti de aventuri din biblioteca familiei, m-am mutat la “Judeţeană”, adică aici:

Sursa: www.aboutromania.com/libraries.html

Ştiţi ce e, nu? Pa-ra-di-sul – singurul care putea exista pentru mine. (Nu mi-aş fi imaginat vreodată că voi putea să revăd un loc atât de drag, să mă pierd iar printre rafturile înalte, burduşite cu volume, de la 200 km distanţă, cu doar un click.)

N-am avut vise de mărire, nici măcar copil fiind. Visele mele erau mici şi gingaşe ca nişte gâze cu buline pe aripi; includeau invariabil pădurea şi misterele ei şi multe, multe descoperiri fantastice. De aici, probabil, şi dragostea pentru cărţi.

Nu m-am visat, deci, niciodată prinţesă, aşa cum fantazează majoritatea fetiţelor (e adevărată povestea asta sau inventată de băieţii dornici să-şi afirme vitejia salvând domniţa din turn din ghearele zmeului?). Însă ajunsă la “Judeţeană”, mă simţeam într-adevăr ca o fiinţă cu sânge albastru. Eram o privilegiată. Clădirea impozantă a bibliotecii, cu statuia lui Bariţiu la intrare, era castelul meu în care puteam rătăci în voie. Bibliotecarele erau slujnicele tăcute şi respectuoase care-mi luau pelerina brodată, adică permisul, şi îmi deschideau uşile înalte, sculptate ale saloanelor, ale cărţilor. Câte lumi acolo, toate la picioarele mele, aşteptând cuminţi să fie explorate din scoarţă în scoarţă!

În schimb, o dată cu mutarea la “Judeţeană” şi descoperirea lui Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, am început să mă visez detectiv. Să urmăresc cu sârg indiciile până la mârşavul criminal, pe care îl voi ridiculiza în faţa unei onorabile şi înmărmurite asistenţe, aşa cum obişnuia să facă mentorul meu fumător de pipă, şi, apoi îl voi preda poliţiei. Ah, ce fericit-aş fi fost! Mă bufneşte râsul, căci îmi dau seama acum că acel mic şi brav Sherlock Holmes trăieşte încă bine merci în mine, dă din picioare şi iese, din când în când, la iveală prin reclamaţiile depuse la diverse organizaţii ori lăcrămaţiile postate pe blog, anunţând victorios: am găsit făptaşii, luaţi-i, pedepsiţi-i! )))))) Ce copil nebun şi neobosit!

Îmi amintesc mai ales zilele de iarnă în care dârdâiam în troleibuz câte jumătate de ceas, cât îi lua balaurului de fiare ruginite pe nume “31” să se târască din capătul Răcădăului

Sursa: emi.floaredecolt.org

până la celălalt capăt, Livada Poştei,

Sursa: cristache.freehostia.com

unde se-nălţa din troienele uriaşe de zăpadă cea de-a doua mea casă, biblioteca. Mă scuturam de turţuri şi fulgi pe scara interioară a intrării, apoi intram în holul căptuşit cu fişete şi mă descotoşmăneam la garderobă. În câteva minute, mi se înroşeau obrajii de la zăpuşeala din bibliotecă şi mai trebuia să dau un pulover jos. Realizez acum că, asemeni oamenilor, cărţile nu pot vieţui fără căldură.

În adolescenţă, mi-am încheiat primul capitol al istoriei cititului cu Rocambole, al lui Ponson du Terrail, vreo douăzeci, poate mai multe, volume. Mi le împrumuta o prietenă de-a mamei care vindea cărţi la o tarabă în centrul Braşovului; mereu cu menţiunea ai mare grijă, trebuie să arate tot ca nouă după, ca s-o pot vinde.

Încă n-am găsit răspuns la întrebarea cum am putut trăi fără ele ani de-a rândul. Pe la şaptesprezece ani mă apucasem de siropuri; citeam cam una pe zi, până m-am plictisit. Încercasem cu ceva vreme în urmă religiile lui Eliade, dar mă refuzaseră şi am sărit în extremă. Apoi linişte. Citeam din când în când câte-o carte, recomandată de profesori sau culeasă de prin biblioteca cuiva, nu conta prea mult autorul ori genul, de plictiseală…

Cititul e un drog alb, dacă îl laşi o vreme şi începi să te intoxici cu diverse narcotice ieftine,  te lasă şi el pe tine.

Mă iertaţi, m-am luat cu vorba… De fapt vroiam să spun numai că mi-e tare dor de bibliotecă, de liniştea ei şi de mirosul greu al anilor trecuţi peste paginile cărţilor.

Pies tardiv şi foarte important: adeseori mi-a apărut întrebarea cum aş prefera să mor. N-am găsit un răspuns potrivit, pentru că mă chinuiam să-l găsesc pe cel mai echitabil. Nu există aşa ceva. Vreau să mor citind.

“Lo! I tell you a mystery.”  1 Corinthians 15:51RSV

Sherlock Holmes loved a mystery, or, should I say, a mystery solved.  With help ( or the lack thereof)  from his crime-solving side-kick, Watson, Holmes solved the most befuddling mysteries with exacting patience.

And no amount of protestations from shifty-eyed suspects could deter the funny-hatted sleuth as he routed out the facts~~ “I interfere whenever and whereever I like…” he stated with calm firmness in ”The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.”

Well, I present to you today a mystery so obvious even fumbly- bumbly Watson could solve it: (clue: click on highlighted words for Bible references.)

Who  loves you more than you love yourself?

Who, although he had commited no crimes of his own, paid the penalty for

 ALL of yours?

Who, although He existed in the form of God…took on the humblest form of a man – a slave,  and became obedient even so far as to die on a cross?

And, because of these crimes of passion, at the very mention of whose  name shall every knee bow and every tongue confess that he is Lord?!

It’s no mystery!  It’s Jesus, the One and Only !!!

Elementary, my dear Watson!

The ”Who-Dunnit” Prayer:  Father in heaven, it’s a mystery to me why you love me so.  The sins that drove you to the cross were my own.  Who dunnit?  Me!  But now I’m free.  And who did that?  You!  Thank you!  I can only deduce that You are wonderful!  In Jesus’ name, amen.

By Rory Reynolds

A OUIJA board thought to have been used by the creator of Sherlock Holmes has been found in a secret compartment at a school of paranormal studies.

Staff at the Edinburgh College of Parapsychology found the occult Victorian device hidden in small cupboard built into a kitchen wall, 20 feet out of reach.

The spooky find – used to spell out messages during a Séance – is thought to have been used by mystery writer Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

The device was found with its original packaging, and was labelled as a “Telepathic Spirit Communicator.”

Edinburgh-born Doyle immersed himself in the practice of spiritualism in 1906, after his wife Louisa and son Kingsley died.Doyle found solace in the practice, which believes that contact can be made with people beyond the grave.The area is even said to have influenced his writing, and his novel, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, was even banned in the Soviet Union because it was said to be occultist.

Roberta Gordon, 62, a medium and president of the college, said the Victorian device was found along with a “Dungeon Tube” with is said to use musical vibrations to relieve pain.

She said: “We were very excited to be quite honest.

“Arthur Conan Doyle was very much into spiritualism so there is every chance he would have seen some of the equipment we found.”

“There is no way we will be parting with any of it though – it’s part of our heritage.”

Roberta’s husband Richard, 66, from Gullane, East Lothian added: “We’ve found quite a few unusual things while we’ve been clearing out the building, like strange recordings.

“The college has been here for 77 years so there’s a lot to find.

“I believe Doyle used to frequent the building.

“And it’s well known that he was a spiritualist – it’s very possible that he used the board.

“The board was made in Manchester, and we’ve got the packaging as well.

“We’re not sure how old it is yet, but the wheels are made of bone – not plastic or wood.”

Roberta and husband Richard have spent the last few months renovating the building, which is in the upmarket west end of the city.

But the ouija board is not the first unsettling discovery the couple have made.

They’ve also found old records containing medium sessions and red lights used during Derren Brown style séances.

Roberta said: “We had been told there was paint stored in one of the high-up cupboards, so we set about looking for it.

“But instead we discovered all of this – we couldn’t believe it.”

The college was founded in 1932, but followers of spiritualism existed long before then, often operating in secret for fear of persecution by the authorities.

See more of our pictures at our Flickr site and videos at our dedicated channel,  Deadline TV.

Följande hände i London, för några veckor sen:

Jag stod där på bron, riktade blicken mot Houses Of Parliament, som knappt skymtade i dimman, och försökte föreställa mig Westminster Bridge i slutet av 1800-talet.

Kanske just här, vid den här gatlampan som jag lutade mig mot, mördades ett antal parlamentsledamöter, en efter en…

Inte i verkligheten – utan i fiktionen. Men inte i någon av Sir Arthur Conan Doyles berättelser om Sherlock Holmes – utan i en annan historisk detektivroman: “Bethlehem Road”, författad av Anne Perry (och utgiven av Fawcett Crest).

Den senaste tiden har jag smuttat på – snarare än slukat – den ena pocketboken efter den andra i hennes långa deckarserie med “Victorian Mysteries” (vid det här laget bör serien omfatta ungefär femton böcker).

De gåtor, som kriminalinspektör Thomas Pitt löser med hjälp av sin fru Charlotte, är inga under av fyndighet. Däremot har Anne Perry förmågan att (nästan) fysiskt förflytta läsaren till 1800-talets London: gator och människor, samtal, diskussioner och politik, klassmotsättningar och också motsättningar mellan man och kvinna…

Manssamhället hotas. Kvinnorörelsen är på väg att födas. De engelska kvinnorna kräver rätten till sina egna åsikter – till en plats också utanför hemmet. Ja, kvinnorna har t o m börjat kräva platser i Parlamentet!

Anne Perrys “Bethlehem Road” är också en feministisk detektivroman. 

 (DAST Magazine 1997)

Hemsida: http://www.anneperry.net/  
Trist att hennes deckare aldrig kommit på svenska…

This is my kind of book. Its foundation carries the echo of a premise from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Lost World : a geographic anomaly has caused tiny Hender’s Island to be isolated from the rest of the globe. However, rather than have evolution frozen in Dinosaur Time, Fahy has created an undisturbed evolutionary hothouse where new and more deadly paths have been taken. It still doesn’t bode well for the hapless sailors and scientists who accidentally discover this evolutionary gem and there is an inevitable clash between those who wish to study the new life (a few dedicated and brilliant scientists), those who wish to profit by it (a reality show called ‘SeaLife’), and those who would like the whole thing to just go away (the military).

The originality of the various creatures’ biology, morphology, and ecosystems is brilliant, making up in large part for a few of the more one-dimensional humans with which they interact (read shred), be they soldier or scientist. Some of the horrifying new discoveries are also illustrated as they would appear on the pages of a scientist’s field notebook (which does help to visualize such fantastic creations). Avid readers of the genre will be familiar with the question of whether or not we can accept life forms vastly different from our own but perhaps the most satisfying aspect of the plot is that those who ignore the tenets of science and humanity always get their comeuppance. Always. [No idea how “The Mummy” reference popped into my head but the (fingers crossed) movie of Fragment should be as much fun.]

For more information about Warren Fahy, check out his website.

தோன்றியதைப் பற்றி எல்லாம் ஜல்லி அடித்துக் கொண்டிருக்கிறேன். அமார்த்ய சென்னிலிருந்து ஆனந்தரங்கம் பிள்ளை வரை ஒரே அவியலாக இருக்கிறது. ஒரு சேஞ்சுக்காக ஒரே ஒரு விஷயம் பற்றி focus செய்யலாம் என்று எண்ணம். இந்த வாரம், சிறுகதை வாரம். சிறுகதைகளை பற்றி மட்டும் எழுதப் போகிறேன். என்ன எழுதப் போகிறேன் என்று இது வரை எனக்கே தெரியாது.

சிறுகதை என்றால் என்ன என்று பெரிய பெரிய மேதைகளே வரையறுக்க குழம்புகிறார்கள். சிலர் சைஸை வைத்து வரையறுக்கிறார்கள். பத்து பக்கம் இருந்தால் சிறுகதையா? 25 பக்கம்? 50 பக்கம்? எத்தனை பக்கம் இருந்தால் சிறுகதையிலிருந்து கொஞ்சம் பெருகதைக்கு மாறுகிறது? (இந்த இடத்தில் எப்படியாவது அருகதை என்று எழுதிவிட வேண்டும் என்று நினைத்தேன், அப்புறம் படிப்பவர்கள் பாவம் என்று விட்டுவிட்டேன்) நான் குமுதம் விகடன் படித்து வளர்ந்தவன். அதிலெல்லாம் படம் போட்டு பாகங்களை குறித்த பிறகும் கதை பத்து பக்கத்தை தாண்டாது. இருபது பக்க “சிறுகதையே” எனக்கு கொஞ்சம் கஷ்டம். ஆனால் டிக்கன்ஸ் சிறுகதை எழுதினால் ஒரு ஐம்பது பக்கம் போகும். ஜோஸஃப் கான்ராடின் Heart of Darkness படிக்க முயற்சி செய்துகொண்டிருக்கிறேன். என் கண்ணில் அது சிறுகதைதான். அது ஒரு 70 பக்கம் இருக்கம். பத்தொன்பதாம் நூற்றாண்டு, இருபதாம் நூற்றாண்டின் முதல் இரண்டு மூன்று decade-களில் எழுதப்பட்ட கதைகள் பொதுவாக நீளமாக இருக்கின்றன.

சிலர் சிறுகதை ஒரு moment -ஐ, ஒரு நக்மா-வை, (நக்மாவுக்கு நல்ல தமிழ் வார்த்தை யாராவது சொல்லுங்கப்பு!) காட்டுவதுதான் சிறுகதை என்று சொல்கிறார்கள். (நக்மாவை காட்டினால் அல்லது நக்மா காட்டினால் அது சிறுகதை இல்லை, சினிமா என்று யாராவது கடிப்பதற்கு முன் ஹிந்தியில் நக்மா என்றால் ஒரு moment என்று சொல்லிவிடுகிறேன். அது moment-உக்கும் கொஞ்சம் மேலே, உருது வார்த்தைகளுக்கு உள்ள ஒரு charm அதில் இருக்கிறது.) அசோகமித்ரனின் காலமும் ஐந்து குழந்தைகளும் நல்ல உதாரணம். ஆனால் புதுமைப்பித்தனின் ஒரு கதை – பேர் ஞாபகம் வரவில்லை, கூடுவிட்டு கூடு பாயும் நன்னய பட்டன்? என்று நினைக்கிறேன் – பல யுகங்களை கடக்கிறது. அதுவும் நல்ல கதைதான்.

பெரிய பெரிய மேதைகளே தடுமாறும்போது நான் எதற்கு கஷ்டப்பட வேண்டும்? யாரோ ஒருவர் போர்னோக்ராஃபி பற்றி சொன்னது நினைவு வருகிறது. அதை என்னால் வரையறுக்க முடியாது, ஆனால் பார்த்தால் எது போர்னோ, எது இல்லை என்று தெரியும் என்று சொன்னாராம். சிறுகதைக்கும் அந்த வரையறைதான் சரிப்பட்டு வரும். எந்த வரையறைக்கும் விதிவிலக்குகள் காட்ட முடியும். ஆனால் பார்த்தால் இது சிறுகதையா, குறுநாவலா, நாவலா என்று தெரியும்.

ஆங்கிலத்தில் எனக்கு பிடித்த சிறுகதை ஆசிரியர்கள்/கதைகள் – உடனடியாக தோன்றுபவை – சாகி, எம்.ஆர். ஜேம்சின் பேய்க்கதைகள், ஓ. ஹென்றியின் சில கதைகள், பல ஷெர்லாக் ஹோம்ஸ் கதைகள், சில ஜாக் லண்டன் கதைகள், சில பி.ஜி. வுட்ஹவுஸ் கதைகள், வெகு சில அசிமோவ், உர்சுலா லி க்வின் கதைகள் பிடிக்கும். பெரிதாக பேசப்படும் ஹாதொர்ன், எட்கார் ஆலன் போ (Purloined Letter, Gold Bug, Pit and the Pendulum பிடிக்கும்), சாமர்செட் மாம், மார்க் ட்வேய்நின் சிறுகதைகள் எல்லாம் எனக்கு அவ்வளவாக பிடிக்கவில்லை.

இந்திய மொழிகளில் ஹிந்தியில் பிரேம்சந்த். மிக அற்புதமான சிறுகதைகள். மணிக் பந்தோபாத்யாயின் வங்காளச் சிறுகதைகளில் பல மிகவும் சக்தி உள்ளவை. மைதிலியோ, போஜ்புரியோ என்னவோ ஒன்றில் எழுதிய ஃபனீஸ்வர்நாத் ரேணு அருமையாக எழுதுவார். வேறு யாரும் எனக்கு தெரியவில்லை. இஸ்மத் சுக்டை, சாதத் ஹாசன் மாண்டோ, கிருஷ்ண சந்தர் மாதிரி எல்லாம் பேர் நினைவு வந்தாலும் எந்த கதையும் நினைவு வரவில்லை. மற்றவர்களின் நாவல்கள்தான் நினைவு வருகின்றன.

தமிழில்தான் நான் ஓரளவு சிறுகதைகளை படித்திருக்கிறேன். தமிழ் எழுத்தாளர்கள் சிறுகதை வடிவத்தை ஜீரணித்து பல வருஷம் ஆயிற்று. இத்தனைக்கும் நூறு வருஷமாகத்தான் சிறுகதைகள் வர ஆரம்பித்திருக்கின்றன. புதுமைப்பித்தன் ஒரு ஜீனியஸ். அவர் சிறுகதைகள், கட்டுரைகள் மட்டுமே எழுதினர். கு.ப.ரா. அருமையான கதைகளை எழுதி இருக்கிறார். அசோகமித்திரன் தமிழின் இன்னொரு ஜீனியஸ். அவருக்கு சிறுகதை கை வந்த கலை. கு. அழகிரிசாமி சிறுகதையின் மாஸ்டர். கி.ராஜநாராயணன் இன்னொரு மாஸ்டர். ஈகோவை வைத்து மிக subtle-ஆன கதைகளை எழுதும் சா. கந்தசாமி, அன்றைய காலகட்டத்தின் நியாய அநியாயங்களை எடுத்து வைத்த ஜெயகாந்தன், மிக சுவாரசியமான கதைகளை வணிக இதழ்களுக்காக எழுதிய கல்கி, தேவன், சுஜாதா, ஒரு காலத்தில் மிக அபாரமான சிறுகதைகளை எழுதிய பாலகுமாரன், மிக குரிவாகவே எழுதினாலும் மறக்க முடியாத கதைகளை எழுதிய ஜி. நாகராஜன், திலீப் குமார், வெளுத்து வாங்கும் அ. முத்துலிங்கம், நாவல்கல் அளவுக்கு வராவிட்டாலும் நல்ல சிறுகதைகளை எழுதும் ஜெயமோகன் என்று மணிக்கொடி காலத்திலிருந்து இன்று வரை லிஸ்ட் போட்டுக்கொண்டே போகலாம்.

உங்களுக்கு என்ன சிறுகதைகள் பிடித்திருந்தது? உங்களை பாதித்த சிறுகதைகள் ஏதாவது உண்டா? சிறுகதைகளை பற்றி உங்கள் எண்ணம் என்ன? சும்மா நானே பேசுவதை விட எல்லாரும் பேசினால் நன்றாக இருக்குமே!

நீங்கள் எழுதிய சிறுகதை எதையாவது இங்கே பதிக்க விரும்புகிறீர்களா? (எனக்கு பிடித்தால்தான் பதிப்பேன்.)

பக்ஸ், சேதுராமன் நீங்கள் யாராவது இதைப் பற்றி எழுத விரும்புகிறீர்களா?

தொடர்புடைய பதிவுகள்:

சிறுகதை சிபாரிசுகள்:
எஸ். ராமகிருஷ்ணனின் 100 சிறந்த தமிழ் சிறுகதைகள் சிபாரிசுகள், என் குறிப்புகள் பகுதி 1, பகுதி 2
ஜெயமோகனின் சிறுகதை சிபாரிசுகள் – பெரிய பதிவு, ஒரு 250 சொச்சம் தமிழ் சிறுகதைகளை குறிப்பிட்டிருக்கிறார்.
சினிமாவுக்கு ஏற்ற தமிழ் சிறுகதைகள்

சில எழுத்தாளர்களின் சிறுகதைகள்:
தங்கர் பச்சான், குறிப்பாக வெள்ளை மாடு, குடிமுந்திரி சிறுகதைகள்
அசோகமித்திரன், குறிப்பாக, பிரயாணம் சிறுகதை
அம்மாவுக்கு புரியாது – உரையாடல் சிறுகதை போட்டிக்காக எழுதப்பட்ட கதை, கதைக்கு பரிசு

woah, dude...

1. ACD, the man. The new sherlock movie looks like its gonna suck, I dunno…

Sir Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle, DL (22 May 1859 – 7 July 1930) was a British author most noted for his stories about the detective Sherlock Holmes, which are generally considered a major innovation in the field of crime fiction, and for the adventures of Professor Challenger. He was a prolific writer whose other works include science fiction stories, historical novels, plays and romances, poetry, and non-fiction.

2. The Peltzman Effect. Disregard the unfortunate b.s. from CEI. This must be the only negative externality (bonus!) they ever liked.

The Peltzman effect is the hypothesized tendency of people to react to a safety regulation by increasing other risky behavior, offsetting some or all of the benefit of the regulation. It is named after Sam Peltzman, a professor of Economics at the University of Chicago Booth School of Business.

3. Circadian rhythm. Almost mystic in its implications…

A circadian rhythm is a roughly-24-hour cycle in the biochemical, physiological or behavioral processes of living entities, including plants, animals, fungi and cyanobacteria (see bacterial circadian rhythms). The term “circadian”, coined by Franz Halberg,^[1] comes from the Latin circa, “around,” and diem or dies, “day”, meaning literally “approximately one day.” The formal study of biological temporal rhythms such as daily, tidal, weekly, seasonal, and annual rhythms, is called chronobiology.

We have all seen it before: author writes breakout bestseller and then proceeds to dwindle back into anonymity after his/her second book fails to capture the public imagination in the way the first did. I think this is often considered a modern phenomenon, as authors are under more pressure to perform the second time around (or there may be no third time) and as publishers become more concerned with making a profit after big advances. Just to think of a two examples, the hype surrounding Dan Brown’s latest Langdon nonsense (admittedly, not simply his second book, but still) and the articles about Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love follow-up troubles are enough to show that the second book syndrome (if you will) is definitely a problem still plaguing the writers among us.

But what about authors of “classics” whose current and long-lasting success in relation to one of their books has caused us modern readers to forget all the duds that came before and after that one classic? I’m thinking Rob Roy (Sir Walter Scott’s follow-up to Waverly) or The Black Arrow (Robert Louis Stevenson’s “other book” after Treasure Island) or even all of Arthur Conan Doyle’s post-Holmes “historical novels” (Micah Clarke, Rodney Stone, and Sir Nigel to name a few fairly forgotten ones).

Thinking about this and also perusing used book shops and fairs resulted in me purchasing The Black Arrow by the aforementioned Stevenson and giving it a go despite my misgivings about Rob Roy.

While I have not finished the book yet and Stevenson seems entirely too prone to the frustrating habit of writing out accents (also like Rob Roy, but in this case substituting almost every instance of “the” or “you” with “ye” and “thou”), I must say I am thus far pleased with Stevenson’s sophomore outing for a few reasons. Firstly, there is Stevenson’s own self-deprecating introduction wherein he frets about people not liking Arrow as much as they loved Treasure Island. His awareness of the second book syndrome at first worried me, since that would suggest pressure on Arrow and perhaps produce a lesser novel, but then I decided I liked that he acknowledged where his readers were coming from rather than ignoring the elephant in the room (Treasure Island). He recognized that it was an iconic work and hoped that, all the same, people would still read and appreciate Arrow apart from Treasure Island.

Secondly, there is the wonderful historic coincidence that Stevenson based his characters and story on the Paston Letters! Having read Helen Castor’s book about the Pastons, I was thrilled to discover a fictionalized account of that story. I’m also extremely happy that an author such as Stevenson discovered them and realized the narrative potential of the family.

Those two aspects of the book aside, so far I am enjoying the rather ambling, boy-adventure story that Stevenson so clearly excels at writing (as he would later once again prove with Kidnapped). The Black Arrow may not be his classic work, but I think it is still very good and I look forward to what will undoubtedly be a climatic conclusion. At this moment in my readings, Stevenson is definitely winning over Dan Brown, Doyle, and Scott, but I’ll keep you posted!

Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself, but talent instantly recognizes genius.

—Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

A person is found dead, presumably murdered, but all the doors and windows to the room were locked.  How did it happen?  And more importantly, who did it?

This is the premise of the mystery sub-genre known as “locked room mysteries.”  However, this type of mystery doesn’t always happen in a locked room.  Sometimes the people are alone on an island together, alá Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None.  Sometimes a person is found dead in the snow or the sand and there are no footprints approaching or leaving the area, such as in The Three Coffins by John Dickson Carr or Have His Carcase by Dorothy L. Sayers.  Other times the murder mystery is simply an impossible puzzle.

The very first locked room mystery comes to us from that founder of the detective story, Edgar Allan Poe.  You may be familiar with this one from your required high school reading list.  His Murders in the Rue Morgue still serves as the benchmark against which all other stories of this type are judged.  If you haven’t read this since high school, try it again.  You’ll be pleasantly surprised at how much better you think it is now.

John Dickson Carr is generally considered to be the master of the locked room sub-genre.  Other mystery authors who use this device on a regular basis include Andrew Greeley, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Herbert Resnicow, and Edward D. Hoch.

The Mystery Book Discussion Group will be starting a series of locked room mysteries this fall.  If puzzles (or mysteries) are your thing, please consider joining us.  We’d love to see you and we promise we won’t lock you out!

September 18th, 2009 – And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie
October 16th, 2009 – Bloodhounds by Peter Lovesey
November 20th, 2009 – The Bishop at the Lake by Andrew Greeley
December 18th, 2009 – Ten Second Staircase by Christopher Fowler
January 22nd, 2010 – The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul by Douglas Adams

-Melissa