William S. Burroughs

Burroughs and his "cut-up" style in Naked Lunch are fascinating. Although I am speechless when confronted with a work like Naked Lunch, I plan to read more of his novels, which bring to mind the better postmodern fiction from some of my favorite writers. Moreover, Burroughs always has something interesting to say about narcotics and his interest in anthropology and ideas of science fiction are clever, horrifying, and intriguing. At times, Naked Lunch reminded me of Lovecraft because of the author's cleverly constructed universe that blends fact and fiction with occult allusions. 

The Word For World Is Forest

The novella is a neglected literary form, and Le Guin's The Word for World Is Forest, published in a collection of SF edited by Harlan Ellison, definitely reflects the 1970s and the Vietnam War, as well as Le Guin's other passions, environmentalism and racial/gender politics. While reading it, the obvious comparisons came to mind, with the Ewoks of Star Wars to Avatar, but Philip K. Dick's 1964 novel, Martian Time-Slip, seems like an even better comparison to make. Both writers knew each other and followed each other's work, and much like Dick's earlier novel, a humanoid alien race on another planet must confront colonialism. Of course, Dick's Martian setting more closely resembles the American western than the forest world of Le Guin's novella, but both writers reflect on colonialism, slavery, racism, gender, genocide, and the turbulent decades of US war and intervention in Southeast Asia. 

Unfortunately, where Le Guin lost me is in her extremely didactic moralism (overt references to Vietnam, guerrilla warfare, and massacres of that period abound in the text, with a final message boiling down to violence begets violence?), whereas Dick is a tad more ambiguous and ontologically unstable (although, the question of insanity and the different frames of reference for Terran humans and the native humans of Le Guin's planet regarding dreams indicates some parallels). Another Dick novel of comparable thematic content is Dr. Futurity, especially in postulating a future in which humanity is "mixed race" and Native American (indigenous) spirituality and social organizations are prominent. Sadly, Dick's fiction, from what I've read, did not continue to experiment with these notions of race and gender in the creative ways of Le Guin, hence her stature in science fiction.  

Due to her her father's background in anthropology, the chapters told from the perspective of Selver, the 'god' who leads his race against the Terran settlers, are the most interesting for bringing, in her own way, cosmology and epistemology of indigenous societies to the forefront is fascinating, albeit less engaging than the the larger universe of her Hainish Cycle stories. One finds oneself more interested in the other humanoid aliens, ansible, and League of Worlds, and an extended form of prose writing to bring the world into Le Guin's unique vision. Perhaps if approached as an introduction to the larger world of her Hainish Cycle, some of its flaws can be forgiven. 

Keith Jarrett's Common Mama

Due to the recommendations of family who enjoy Keith Jarrett's music, I have been exploring his catalog. "Common Mama" is the kind of the jazz fusion I enjoy: funky, accessible, largely avoiding the noodling one finds in so much 1970s fusion records, and exploring polyrhythm in an interesting vein. Dewey Redman does not hold back here in his brief solo, which bows to the demands of funk and popular music while paying homage to the avant garde stylings of Albert Ayler and others. But the samba-like percussion is what drives this piece. Indeed, one is reminded of Bud Powell's "Un Poco Loco" because of Jarrett's use of Latin rhythms without sacrificing the jazz side of the equation.  

The Power and the Glory

Graham Greene's The Power and the Glory is one of those rare novels with such spiritual import one is left breathless after finishing. Reminding me of Philip K. Dick's masterpiece, The Transmigration of Timothy Archer, Greene's thoroughly Catholic tale of a Mexican priest on the run is essentially Christian, just like Dick's late work. Both also share a devotion to agape as the reservoir (and goal?) of Christian meaning and faith, done to excellent effect in both works. Just as one character chooses compassion over enlightenment in Dick's novel, here the unnamed Mexican priest, returns to certain death to fulfill his duty and try to love everyone as he loves his grave sin. Greene's novel also brings to mind the problematic ways in which leftist insurgents and governments, pursuing the same goals, in the end, as the Catholic Church, can also harm or exploit the population in which they claim to be fighting for. No one is left unscathed in this touching tale, and much like the life of the saints or Christ himself, there is always redemption or redeemable aspects of the unfavorable characters, including the lieutenant hell-bent on killing the unnamed priest, the last Catholic cleric left in a state whose socialist government banned Catholicism.  Furthermore, the ambiguous loose ends of the novel, which another novelist may not have succeeded in pulling off, contribute to the text's core themes of the community, aided by the novel's shift in characters, as the decisions made by a few reverberate throughout the province as the "whiskey priest" lives on the run. In short, a brilliant novel that Catholics and non-Catholics alike can enjoy, be mesmerized by, and appreciate the Mexican setting. 

Jeff VanderMeer

Brief interview with Jeff VanderMeer, author of Veniss City. In my high school science fiction literature class, VanderMeer's novel was the most memorable reading assignment (although Vonnegut's Sirens of Titan is a better novel overall). After several years and expanding my knowledge of science fiction literature and film, I have a much better idea of what is going on in Veniss City, especially some of the less well-known literary allusions and homages in the dark tale that, to the writer's credit, tries something different and experimental while standing on the shoulders of giants (Bosch, Goya, Lovecraft, Dick, Dante, etc.). Gibson's classic novel is next on the reading list. 

Dwójka Rzymska

A funky number from one of the greats of Polish jazz, and film score composer for Roman Polanski. An extended live recording at Copenhagen can be accessed here. Krzysztof Komeda has a distinctive sound that I cannot quite trace, but someone who clearly followed the avant-garde of 1960s American jazz. This sure ain't your grandmother's polka or mazurka, that's for sure. 

Our Second Father

Stunning drumming in this tribute to Coltrane, recorded live at Slugs' Saloon, a legendary club in New York (Sun Ra had a famous stint there, documented in John Szwed's excellent biography of Ra). Jimmy Hopps on drums sounds a little like Elvin Jones, but with a little of Rashied or Muhammad Ali, and it's all fantastic. Stanley Cowell, on the other hand, really does sound like McCoy Tyner, but that's okay.