The Pleasures of Reading, Watching, and Listening
by Rosanne Rabinowitz
I’m a new Aqueductian who was
pleasantly surprised by Timmi’s invitation to contribute to this regular
end-of-the-year roundup – so my most recent reading, watching and listening
pleasures will loom large in my account.
I'll start with last week’s binge
on the new Netflix series Dark, an
import with one foot in the 1980s and others in 2019 and 1953. The series has been described as a German
version of Stranger Things, albeit
with an older and not-so-cute crowd of kids. There are no people-eating
monsters either, but we face murderous humans along with the complexities of
time travel and its effects on three families in a village near a nuclear power
plant. Young boys disappear while corpses appear; small-town passions seethe
and hidden histories surface. The narrative hops along several timelines, as do
several of the protagonists.
Well, I’m always up for a good
time travel yarn. I have a sense that the series is riffing on – and
against– classic 1980s time travel capers like Back to the Future and Bill
and Ted's Excellent Adventure.
But
it's not such an excellent adventure for young Mikkel, a boy who finds himself
stranded in the 1980s. This situation has been mined for laughs in the past (Hot Tub Time Machine, anyone?) but here
I was genuinely moved by Mikkel's terror and deep sadness as he is torn out of
his world and displaced in another. Though he finds an adoptive family and goes
on to marry and have children he never recovers from this wounding.
The visual and emotional palette is
sombre and mysterious, helped by a haunting musical score. Sometimes the angst
teeters on the edge of parody, as if we’re in Back to the Future as directed by Ingmar Bergman. In the
middle of the series I really was expecting a geezer in black to turn up for a
game of chess. Some
might find that a fault, but it added to my enjoyment. Oh yes, I love a good
mash-up. And I’d definitely love to see one where the Stranger Things kids have intense discussions of fate, mortality
and theology while zipping about on their bicycles in their Ghostbusters
outfits.
So if you think you'd enjoy a
10-episode helping of Teutonic time-traveling gloom, Dark is for you. I'd add that there are glimmerings of humor here
and there, especially when a version of the grizzled 'grandfather paradox' gets
another airing. I laughed when teen-aged Jonas, who ventures into the past to
search for Mikkel, expressed his confusion: "Now I have another grandma,
and she’s the principal of my school... Her husband, who’s fucking my mom, is looking
for his son, who’s my father! A few days ago I kissed my aunt..."
Any thematic
continuity was unintentional, but when I downloaded The Rift by Nina Allan I found myself venturing
again into a story centered on a disappearance. Selena’s
sister Julie goes missing at the age of seventeen. Then Julie 20 returns years
later, with a tale of a narrow escape from death and time spent on another
planet. There are resonances of the loved one returned from the realms of
faerie. Are they the missing person, or someone else? The Rift
is a haunting and ambiguous tale.
Another
recent read is Swingtime by Zadie
Smith. In this novel Zadie returns to her home turf in north-west London, and ventures
much further afield as well. Two young women grow up: one is a talented dancer
and another is not so talented, but a good adapter who ends up working for a
Madonna-esque superstar. This book sped by; I found it moving and also
full of laugh-out-loud satire. It's the best I've read from her, as I’ve had mixed feelings about Smith’s
earlier work. While responding to its wit and perceptiveness I often found it
rather detached in tone. This time Smith brought me up close to her characters
in a novel that brims with sense of place and time – and sense of person as
well.
I would
also recommend The Underground Railroad
by Colson Whitehead, which won the Clarke Award, the Pulitzer and possibly some
other accolades as well. This book was chosen by a care client as a birthday
present, and I read it out loud to him with great pleasure. It tells the story
of Cora, who struggles with oppression as a slave plus isolation within her own
community. While it is a harrowing narrative of slavery and racism in the
southern US, it also shines with Cora's vital determination to be free and
build a better life with others: “The world may be mean, but people don’t have
to be, not if they refuse.”
The underground
railroad in this book is an actual steampunky railway used by the slaves to
escape into alternate places and futures. Some of these are not what they seem
and the best of them are not likely to last forever. The nature of the railway
is never explained, and readers of science fiction are free to come up with
their own theories. Wormholes, parallel universes? The 'wow' factor never
overwhelms the horrific reality of slavery but offers another way of looking at
resistance to it.
Looking back earlier in year,
other books of note were At Night We Walk
in Circles by Daniel Alarcon The Nix
by Nathan Hill, The Bricks that Built the
Houses by Kate Tempest, The Power
by Naomi Alderman and The Savage Coast,
a rediscovered novel by poet Muriel Rukeyser. I also read some biography – from
Susie Bright's memoir Big Sex Little
Death to Lynne Segal's Making Trouble
and Out of Time, to bassist Peter
Hook's recap of his years in Joy Division, Unknown
Pleasures.
I’ve seen a lot of films in the
past year, but the one that stands out in my mind at the moment is Here to be Heard: The Story of the Slits – an
inspiring montage of interviews and footage of the female-led first-generation
punk band.
I'll end with linking to an
article that I read and posted in December 2016, just after Trump's election: Notes from the Resistance: a Column on Language
and Power by Summer Brennan. I've recently reread it and still find it a
powerful inspiration to any writer who ever has doubts about whether putting words
onto paper (or disc) is a worthwhile thing to do: http://lithub.com/notes-from-the-resistance-a-column-on-language-and-power/
"Words have power. We fight
back by correctly labeling; by calling a white supremacist a white supremacist,
a fascist a fascist, a sexual assault a sexual assault. We name what is
happening or about to happen around us: kleptocracy, kakistocracy,
authoritarianism, fraud, corruption, embezzlement. We can creatively add to the
taxonomy of tyranny even as we feel ourselves buried alive by it: idiocracy,
dystocracy, misogynocracy... The hijacking of public language, as is happening
now, is a way to shift perception—to bend and control thought—and must be
resisted.I would like to invite readers to join me in doing this. Get a diary
or journal and write down as many words as you can that relate to the things
that you value. Fascism favors sameness; it represents a desertification of
language and thinking. You can fight sameness with diversity."
Rosanne Rabinowitz helped produce radical London-based women's
zines in the 1980s/90s such as Feminaxe and Bad Attitude. She has
a creative writing MA from Sheffield Hallam University. Aqueduct published her
novella Helen's Story as a
volume in the Conversation Pieces series in 2017. Resonance and Revolt, a short story collection, will be
published in early 2018 by Eibonvale Press (https://www.eibonvalepress.co.uk/books/books_resonance.htm).
2 comments:
I forgot that I read The Underground Railroad this year when I did my post. I liked it a lot, too, and like your take on it. I've been a huge fan of Whitehead's work ever since I read The Intuitionist years back.
Whitehead's other books are on my reading list for next year!
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