I am still in recovery mode from reading bad sci-fi and think on ‘as’-prefix words today, ‘as’ meaning ‘with regard to’. Askance (a look of suspicion), Askew (not in a level position) & Asunder (apart).
Looking askance, askew on the heath, the lamb bleated not to be torn asunder.
Some years ago, I read what I thought must be the worst sci-fi novel of all time (Dan Simmon’s Hyperion). And then I read Andy Weir’s Artemis.
Weir, known for getting the science right in The Martian, set this novel on the moon. Hailed by Esquire for “his attention to detail” and the The New York Times Book Review for depicting “near-future technology”, I thought this book might be an inspiration for details related to lunar life for my novel, Anori. I was wrong.
Weir’s choice of a young woman, Jazz Bashara, as the protagonist is a misogynic train wreck, focusing almost entirely on her sexuality. I was pretty sexy, I have to admit. (203) ‘Did you watch me strip on Dale’s feed?’ ‘Yeah, thanks for the show!’ (236)
He tries to hide his failure behind her smart-aleck quips – God, I was such a dipshit (173) I was pissed. And I don’t mean drunk. (139) – all of which is painfully sophomoric.
The narrative reads like an outline, the descriptions like a first draft. A frumpy Midwestern woman giggled at her window and turned to me. “Isn’t it amazing? We are on the moon!” (78) And the dialogue…my god, the dialogue. “You just…you really need to learn about woman and how to interact with them, all right?” “Oh,”, he said. “That could be really helpful.” (203) And even if Weir does get the science right, much of it come across like a 17-year-old explaining life. Don’t believe me? Put ice water in a saucepan and cook it. The water temperature will stay at 0 degrees until the last ice cube melts. (250)
I’m not sure what this book taught me beyond that terrible writing can not only get published but also praised. And what’s the lesson in that?
There are hundreds of Top 100 Film Lists, most of which are dated (Citizen Kane atop the list) or populist (Paddington 2). These flawed lists use algorithms (film critics and/or everyday viewers) rather than focus on the remarkable visuals, sounds and scenes that make a film memorable and, dare I say, crack open our collective subconscious. These are the 100 most important films ever made:
100. It’s a Wonderful Life (Frank Capra, US, 1946)
99. The Blair Witch Project (Eduardo Sanchez & Daniel Myrick, US, 1999)
98. Open Hearts (Susanne Bier, Denmark, 2002)
97. Rear Window (Alfred Hitchcock, US, 1957)
96. Unforgiven (Clint Eastwood, US, 1992)
95. La La Land (Damien Chazelle, US, 2016)
94. Nosferatu (FW Murnau, Germany, 1922)
93. City of God (Fernando Meirelles/Kátia Lund, Brazil, 2002)
92. Midsommer (Ari Aster, US, 2019)
91. Promising Young Woman (Emerald Fennell, US, 2020)
90. Close Encounters of the Third Kind (Steven Spielberg, US, 1977)
89. 56 Up (Michael Apted, UK, 2005)
88. Howl’s Moving Castle (Hayao Miyazaki, Japan, 2004)
87. Crimes and Misdemeanors (Woody Allen, US, 1989)
86. The Passion of Joan of Arc (Carl Dryer, France, 1928)
85.Capernaum (Nadine Labaki, Lebanon, 2018)
84. Snow White and the Seven Dwarves (Walt Disney, US, 1937)
83. MASH (Robert Altman, US, 1970)
82. The Adventures of Robin Hood (Michael Curtiz, US, 1938)
81. Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, US, 1977)
80. Memento (Christopher Nolan, US, 2000)
79. Pinocchio (Matteo Garonne, Italy, 2019)
78. Moonlight (Barry Jenkins, US, 2016)
77. Superbad (Greg Mottola, US, 2007)
76. L’Aventurra (Michelangelo Antonioni, Italy, 1960)
75. Rushmore (Wes Anderson, US, 1998)
74. Bonnie and Clyde (Arthur Penn, US, 1967)
73. A Clockwork Orange (Stanley Kubrick, UK, 1973)
72. Amadeus (Milos Forman, US, 1985)
71. A Wedding (Pavel Lungin, Russia, 2000)
70. Elephant (Gus Van Sant, US, 2003)
69. Star Wars (George Lucas, US, 1977)
68. 8 1/2 (Federico Fellini, Italy, 1965)
67. The Battle of Algiers (Gillo Pontecorvo, Italy, 1966)
66. All the President’s Men (Alan Pakula, US, 1976)
65. Irreversible (Gaspar Noe, France, 2002)
64. Dirty (Bruce Sweeney, Canada, 1998)
63.Gilda (Charles Vidor, US, 1946)
62. Singin’ in the Rain (Gene Kelly, US, 1952)
61. American Graffiti (George Lucas, US, 1973)
60. Her (Spike Jonze, US, 2013)
59. Through a Glass Darkly (Ingmar Bergman, Sweden, 1961)
58. The Good, The Bad & The Ugly (Sergio Leone, Italy, 1965)
57. Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese, US, 1976)
56. Alien (Ridley Scott, USA, 1979)
55. Burden of Dreams (Les Blanc, US, 1979)
54. M (Fritz Lang, Germany, 1931)
53. The Godfather II (Francis Ford Coppola, US, 1975)
52. The Exterminating Angel (Luis Bunuel, Spain, 1962)
51. Pather Panchali, The Apu Trilogy (Satyajit Rao, India, 1955)
50.Stroszek (Werner Herzog, Germany, 1977)
49.Honeyland (Tamara Kotevska/Ljubomir Stefanov, Macedonia, 2019)
48. Secrets and Lies (Mike Leigh, UK, 1996)
47. La Regle de Jeu (Jean Renoir, France, 1939)
46. Being John Malkovich (Spike Jonze, US, 2002)
45. Midnight Cowboy (John Schlesinger, US, 1969)
44.Planes, Trains and Automobiles (John Hughes, US, 1987)
43. There Will Be Blood (Paul Thomas Anderson, US, 2007)
42. Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, US, 1960)
41. Chinatown (Roman Polanski, US, 1974)
40. Sherlock Jr. (Buster Keaton, US, 1926)
39. Man with a Movie Camera (Dziga Vertov, USSR, 1927)
38. Tokyo Story (Yasujirō Ozu, Japan, 1953)
37. Raging Bull (Martin Scorsese, US, 1980)
36.Loveless (Andrey Zvyagintsev, Russia, 2017)
35.Andrei Rublev (Andrei Tarkovsky, USSR, 1966)
34. Gommorah (Matteo Garonne, Italy, 2008)
33. The Florida Project (Sean Baker, US, 2017)
32. Shoplifters (Hirokai Kore-eda, Japan, 2018)
31. Heaven’s Gate (Michael Cimino, US, 1980)
30. Annie Hall (Woody Allen, US, 1976)
29. Cleo from 5 to 7 (Agnes Varda, France, 1962)
28. Castaway (Robert Zemeckis, US, 2001)
27. Do the Right Thing (Spike Lee, US, 1989)
26. Dead Man (Jim Jarmusch, US, 1995)
25. Being There (Hal Ashby, US, 1979)
24. Dazed and Confused (Richard Linklater, US, 1993)
23. Blade Runner (Ridley Scott, US, 1983)
22.The Wizard of Oz (Victor Fleming, US, 1939)
21. Short Cuts (Robert Altman, US, 1993)
20. Adaptation (Spike Jonze, US, 2002)
19. Fantastic Mr. Fox (Wes Anderson, US, 2006)
18. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, UK/US, 1968)
17. Dog Day Afternoon (Sidney Lumet, US, 1973)
16. Punch-Drunk Love (Paul Thomas Anderson, US, 2002)
15. Taxi (Jafar Pahani, Iran, 2015)
14. Jaws (Steven Spielberg, US, 1976)
13.Rashomon (Akira Kurosawa, Japan, 1950)
12. The Sacrifice (Andrei Tarkovsky, USSR, 1986)
11. The Graduate (Mike Nichols, US, 1967)
10. The Celebration (Thomas Vinterberg, Denmark, 1998)
9. The Cranes Are Flying (Mikhail Kalatozov, USSR, 1957)
8. The Thin Red Line (Terrence Malick, US, 1998)
7.Bicycle Thieves (Vittorio De Sica, Italy, 1946)
6. Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, US, 1941)
5. The Godfather (Francis Ford Coppola, US, 1973)
4. The Deerhunter (Michael Cimino, US, 1980)
3. Spirited Away (Hayao Miyazaki, Japan, 2001)
2. No Country for Old Men (Joel & Ethan Coen, US, 2007)
1. Aguirre, Wrath of God (Werner Herzog, Germany, 1972)
Please post comments. Feedback is appreciated.
Two more scenes have been aborted – still legal in the writing world – from my speculative novel, Anori. My aim for both scenes was to give context, both historical and geographical, for the narrative, but seemed redundant in the end.
Scene One: Dee looked out at the Temple of Poseidon across the bay and thought about how it had been built, the exhaustive excavation of the site, mining the stone and carving of so many columns, dragging them through the brush, and imagined all the people who died to build it.
All of that labor and pain for that, something that was supposed to be permanent. That was the idea, that they just had to level out the ground and pile up stones to prove that their existence mattered. It was odd how important all of this once had been, this civilization with its government, rights and citizenship. And now all of that was gone, the temple now a tourist attraction atop a barren, thorny place.
Scene Two: The ship carried on to Karachi and then Sri Lanka, Dee cataloguing everything all of the shrews, jerboas, sun bears and dholes. The deliveries were at night, trucks waiting, the tailgates toward the edge of the docks, militiamen always there, black SUVs, cranes towering above in a metallic sky.
It was a routine, sleeping much of the day, watching the shore. The Repaks were the hardest, at the end of each month-long segment. What should have been satisfying, an accomplishment, was wrong, the animals taken back to Greenland. The feeling wouldn’t leave her, nor in Aden or Marka, not anywhere on her seven months at sea.
“Are you looking for the polling station?” The sweet old woman had come out of nowhere. “It’s right there, across the street. If you could vote for Juanita as your City Councilor, I would appreciate it. She lives in the neighborhood. She really is wonderful.”
“Okay.” I noted a sign which stated No Soliciting Within Two Blocks and went inside where a slightly younger woman checked my identification and handed me a laminated folder. I opened the folder in the booth and discovered two ballots and filled in one, selecting Juanita, and inserted the ballot into the machine.
“Excuse me.” I returned the folder and the extra ballot to another woman. “I think I was given an extra.”
“Extra pen?”
“An extra ballot.”
“Huh.” She stared back at me. “I think I know who that was.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to get anyone in trouble here.”
“No one is in trouble, no sir!” She marched across the polling station. “Juanita!”
I’m not sure if Mario Puzo’s acclaimed novel qualifies as stellar prose, but for anyone who has seen the films, the terse prose certainly offers insight to the characters and story.
The wedding day of Connie Corleone ended well for her. Carlo performed his duties as a bridegroom with skill and vigor, spurred on by the contents of the bride’s gift purse which totaled up to over twenty thousand dollars. The bride, however, gave up her virginity with a great deal more willingness than she gave her purse. For the latter, he had to blacken one of her eyes. (42)
“Tom, don’t let anybody kid you. It’s all personal, every bit of business. Every piece of shit every man has to eat every day of his life is personal. They call it business. Okay. But it’s personal as hell. You know where I learned that from? The Don. My old man. The Godfather. If a bolt of lightning hit a friend of his, the old man would take it personal. He took my going into the Marines personal.” (137)
All these Hollywood guys laughed at his fondness for virgins. They called it an old guinea taste, square, and look how long it took to make a virgin give you a blow job with all the aggravation and then they usually turned out to be a lousy piece of ass. But Johnny knew that it was how you handled a young girl. You had to come onto her in the right way and then what could be greater than a girl who was tasting her first dick and loving it? (164)
Hagen understood that the policeman believes in law and order in a curiously innocent way. He believes in it more than does the public he serves. Law and order is, after all, the magic from which he derives his power, individual power which he cherishes as nearly all men cherish individual power. And yet there is always the smoldering resentment against the public he serves. They are at the same time his ward and his prey. As wards they are ungrateful, abusive and demanding. As prey, they are slippery and dangerous, full of guile. (236)
The other Dons in the room applauded and rose to shake hands with everybody in sight and to congratulate Don Corleone and Don Tattaglia on their new friendship. It was perhaps not the warmest friendship in the world. They would not send each other Christ gift greetings, but they would not murder each other. (280)
Looking back at Earth when we’ve been gone for 10,000 years, what would we really think about the planet then?
We came from that place? That’s what the stories are about? Impossible to believe. I mean, sure it’s cute…but really?
Half thoughts come to me as I waver between sleep and playing word games. I have been left alone. No one is coming to find me. I will stay like this.
These tiny bits percolate from my subconscious – or so I decide – unbaked nonsense. My foot twitches, a muscle in my left shoulder. I am still on the dock, the paint can hot in the sun. I am watching Maude and then a Japanese superhero show. The color goes in and out.
I am asleep for the briefest of moments and trying to remember. You’re jealous. You hate it. Phrases like that by an odd voice in my head. Who is that? It isn’t me. My thumb gets tired. I text badly like this. I am falling asleep again. I almost drop my phone and type that. I should do something. I really should.
I had both knees replaced two years ago. I walked three steps the day after surgery and down the hall the day after that. I went to physical therapy twice a week for the following year during which my flexion and power was repeatedly pushed.
I went on my annual Alzheimer’s Research fundraising hike one full year after surgery and was exhausted within an hour. My knees were not working like I expected. I was disappointed and angry, realizing that my knees were never going to be what I wanted them to be.
I continued with my workouts over the next year – stationary bike and exercise ball – and headed out, a little anxious, for another fundraising hike this past month. It was remarkable how much my knees had improved – flexion, power, stability, the works.
Incremental change is impossible to detect from one day to the next. But then, seemingly out of the blue, mountains are climbed. It just took some pain and patience.
I dive in, immediately nervous, thinking of doing a hard turn back, but I force myself to drift, my nose just out of the water, and look down at my feet dangling into the murk. It is thick with sediment, shafts of light trying to break through and failing in the deep, deep brown.
White smudged lines appear, a birch tree that fell into the water last year, a nightmare place made worse by the fish that drift past. I pull my feet up and clamber onto the raft, and I am on it and then I’m not. It sinks and then shoots out to the side, breaking the surface like a shark, leaving me to sink back into that awful abyss.
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