However, these medieval literary creations innovated in that they revolved around the lives and deeds of real common people and their genealogies, as opposed to the largely moralistic, fairytale-like writings of the time in mainland Europe, where the main characters were knights or princes. The legacy of the sagas continues to live on up to our times, having inspired, among others, the setting and the mythical races of major high fantasy novels such as those from ‘The Lord of the Rings’ trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien.
It’s a pretty good list. I’d suggest reading Eyrbyggja Saga as a companion to Laxdaela. But that would bump one of the others from the list, and I’ll admit Laxdaela is the better of the two.
It’s one of the most delightful and inspirational stories of American history. John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, who started as political allies in the Continental Congress – where they worked together on drafting the Declaration of Independence – became the bitterest of political enemies after independence had been won. Their approaches to government were very different, and their perceptions of dangers to the republic widely separated. The lies and vitriol both men (and especially their spokesmen) employed against each other in election campaigns make the ugliness of today’s politics look courtly and tame.
And yet, in their old age, the two men began corresponding,
and became friends again. Amazingly, they died on the very same day – and that
day was the 50th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration.
(Seriously. It’s true. Look it up.)
I’m recalling that story today, not for political purposes, but just to talk about old age – a subject of increasing interest to me.
I haven’t read the Adams-Jefferson letters (I know, I should). But I wonder if part of their reconciliation, beyond the fact that they were nearly the sole survivors of their generation, was the reconciling power of shared aches and pains.
I had opportunities recently to spend time with a couple of
people from my youth. One of the particular tribulations to which a just Providence
has subjected me in my dotage has been that pretty much every one of the
friends of my youth, the people I was closest to, have walked away from the
beliefs we shared. I have not changed (much). They have changed their views in
almost every way.
And yet we spent time together in amity. Thinking it over
afterward, I realized that we spent a lot of the time discussing our health
complaints.
This is a topic that never fails among the old.
I remember being young (my memory is still that good), and I
recall that one of the things we laughed about when talking about old people
was how they couldn’t shut up about their aches and pains, their digestions and
their prescriptions.
And I understand. I have no wish to impose tales of my dry
skin and digestive habits on the healthy young, who should have their minds set
on higher things.
But when we oldsters are together, ailment talk is great. It
bridges divisions, awakens sympathy, and arouses our helpful instincts.
All part of God’s plan, no doubt. He has a wry sense of humor.
One more book in Mark Greaney’s Gray Man series, and it’s as good as its predecessors. In fact, I think I’d rate Agent In Place as one of the best.
It seems like an odd assignment for the world’s greatest
assassin, but Court Gentry, the Gray Man, has been hired by a group of Syrian
expatriates in Paris to kidnap a supermodel. Bianca Medina is the mistress of a
fictionalized president of Syria, Ahmed Azzam, and she has secretly borne him a
son. The Syrian patriots who hired Court hope to use her to get to the tyrant.
Court succeeds, but as usual there are wheels within wheels. Azzam’s wife in Damascus is plotting against Bianca with her Swiss lover, a ruthless security expert who is himself plotting to get himself out of Syria. Just as the Syrian army, the Syrian resistance, the Russians, the Americans, ISIS, the Iranians, the Kurds and others are fighting for various purposes in the desert, one faction is fighting another in Europe, each trying to leverage the instability for their own purposes, noble or ignoble or purely mercenary.
In the style of all the Gray Man books, situations that
start out complex rapidly unreel into tangles and twists and betrayals that
threaten to bring Court’s storied career to a sudden and bloody end. But whatever
happens, in Europe or in Syria, Court will find his moral center and do what he
sees as right, even to the point of death.
Lots of fun. Agent In Place had a climactic fight scene as deeply satisfying as any I’ve ever read in a book. Cautions for violence, language, and high dramatic tension.
The Amazon Prime miniseriesMindhunter is well-done. I’m not sure whether I’d call it “watchable,” because sometimes it’s hard to watch (though, thank Heaven, there are no dramatizations of actual murders, which might frankly have driven me off). And having watched both the first season and the newly-released second season now, I’m not entirely sure what the point is.
The series is based on the development of the discipline (I
won’t say science) of criminal behavioral profiling at the FBI in the 1970s and
‘80s. The main characters, FBI agents Holden Ford (Jonathan Groff) and Bill Tench
(Holt MacCallany), are based on real men – John E. Douglas and Robert K.
Ressler. They are, however, fictionalized beyond all recognition. Holden is a
young agent, kind of a genius with an intuitive understanding of human
motivation, but poor at social relations and office politics. Bill is old
school, at first skeptical of profiling but gradually won over. He runs interference
for his partner when he steps out of line. Which is often. There’s also a
professional psychologist, Wendy Carr (Anna Torv), who is a closeted lesbian
and chafes at being kept out of the action on the street.
The experiment begins with the agents doing long, intense
interviews with various incarcerated serial killers. Richard Speck is one of
them, and they “get” Charles Manson in Season Two. But the most “helpful” is Ed
Kemper, the “Co-Ed Killer” (Cameron Britton), who is portrayed as remarkably
articulate and self-aware, but helpless to control his impulses – a fascinating
performance, chilling in its ambivalence. Gradually (they believe) they begin
to recognize social and behavioral patterns matching various kinds of “organized”
serial killers.
The show is fascinating (I think) mainly in its portrayals of the criminally insane. I’m less impressed with the value of behavioral profiling in itself. In the real world (or so I’ve read), profiling doesn’t really do much to solve crimes. By its nature it can’t provide positive evidence. That problem seems to be echoed in the aura of futility that hangs over much of the production. Season Two ends with the conviction of Wayne Williams, the Atlanta Child Killer, but the resolution leaves the agents frustrated. And Dennis Rader, the BTK Killer, appears in regular vignettes. But in fact, profilers had little or nothing to do with Rader’s conviction. He was identified through digital forensics.
So I’m not sure what to say about Mindhunter. It’s fascinating to watch the process and be shocked by the face of evil, but there aren’t a lot of satisfactions here. Serious cautions for disturbing material, foul language, sex and nudity.
It must be because I’ve been plowing through Mark Greaney’s Gray Man novels – I got to thinking about the spelling of the word “gray,” which seems to be in a “dynamic” state just now.
As a child I learned the basic rule – Americans spell it “gray;” the English spell it “grey.” The first warning of change swam into my ken when I read an interview with Colleen McCullough, author of the besteller, The Thorn Birds. I think it was in the 1980s. She said, as I recall, that she always spelled it “gray,” except when describing eye color. “Grey” just seemed right for eyes, she said.
And it did seem right in that case. Maybe it’s the mirroring
of the two vowels, “e” and “y.” There seems to be a suggestion of something
kind of blue-grey in the English spelling. At least for me.
Then, years later, along comes the novel, Fifty Shades of Grey (Sorry, I will not link to it). It became a huge phenomenon and Americans began to see that “ey” spelling in front of their faces all day long. It seems to have imprinted itself on a lot of them.
Maybe it has to do with the fact that sexual excitement
increases memorability.
In any case, it seems to be catching on. I’ve noticed that James Lileks consistently spells it “grey” over at the Daily Bleat. I expect that has more to do with the time he’s spent in England than with Fifty Shades.
But it looks (to me) as if we’re in the midst of a spelling
shift in this country. The English are winning this one. Gradually.
Me, I’m going to stick with “gray,” even though I’ll admit I
kind of like “grey.” I’m an anglophile, after all, and there is a certain nuance
with the “ey.”
But I stick with the old rules, unless there’s good reason
to drop them. And “gray” has committed no crime deserving of termination.
The second book in James Swain’s intriguing Lancaster and Daniels series has now been released. No Good Deed is well worth your time and money.
Former Navy Seal and cop Jon Lancaster, and FBI agent Beth
Daniels, are not officially a team, but once again they end up working
together. Jon works for The Adam Project, a group devoted to finding kidnapped
children. When he learns of the abduction of a teenaged girl in a small Florida
town, he cancels a fishing vacation to see if he can help. And he does – he discovers
a clue suggesting that the missing girl was not the kidnappers’ real target.
They wanted her grandmother, who was murdered at the scene, but things didn’t
go according to plan.
This links the crime to a string of abductions of adult
women across the state. That brings in the FBI, and Lancaster and Daniels meet
again – awkwardly. They’d had a couple dates after their last case, but then
Daniels stopped answering his calls. They like and respect each other, and
share a passion for their work, but their approaches are different. Lancaster
is all about the objective – he’ll cut corners to save a life, without
hesitation. Daniels needs to do things by the book. Cooperating with Lancaster
will mean compromising her standards and breaking FBI regulations. Can she
justify enabling Lancaster? Can she justify not enabling him? Each of them will
learn the others’ darkest secrets, and share their own, before they solve the
case.
No Good Deed is an exciting story, well told. Christianity gets a couple favorable mentions. I liked it. Cautions for language and intense situations.
Ever since I started spending my days at home, I’ve been exploring television options (when I’m not listening to talk radio). There were a couple different choices on free broadcast TV for old westerns, but I’ve begun to exhaust those over the past year. Now, having recently acquired a new Blu-Ray player (the old one died; they seem to have the life expectancy of goldfish), I’ve begun exploring the possibilities of that device. One thing I can do with it is stream Amazon Prime video. Last night I tried out an old movie in a series I knew mostly by reputation – Passport to Suez, a Lone Wolf movie starring Warren William.
Warren William had an intriguing career. He looks and sounds like an Englishman, but was actually born in the small town of Aitkin, Minnesota. One’s immediate impression when he comes on screen is, “This can’t be the hero. He’s too old.” He does indeed look old, but nevertheless he is the star. Like Basil Rathbone, he was known as a screen villain, but had a successful run as a movie detective – Michael Lanyard, “The Lone Wolf.” (This 1943 movie would be his last appearance in the role. He would die in 1948, aged 53.) The Lone Wolf character was similar to the Saint – a reformed thief now operating as a private detective. The character was created by American writer Louis Joseph Vance in 1914. Though English, Michael Lanyard (it is clearly explained) is now a patriotic American citizen.
The Lone Wolf does not noticeably live up to his nickname. He is staying in a Cairo hotel with his constant companion, his valet Jamison (Eric Blore), and immediately gets flowers sent by the hotel’s owner, his old buddy Johnny Booth (a young Sheldon Leonard playing a sort of Rick Blaine without the secret sorrow). A driver named Fritz (a youthful Lloyd Bridges showing off a not-bad English accent) comes to take them to visit the head of British intelligence in the city, but Fritz is actually a Nazi agent. He delivers them to a German spymaster, who threatens them to help him but is bluffing – he knows Lanyard will try to double-cross him, and he’s planning on that.
It all gets complicated (and implausible). Actress Ann Savage is there as the Dangerous Dame, and a series of Middle Eastern sinister types worthy of “Algiers” (one of my favorite movies) pop in and out, often through an odd tiled wall in Johnny’s office, equipped with a secret door. (It seems as if anybody can wander in; I’d have it nailed shut if I were him.) But all in all, Passport to Suez was a pleasant entertainment, atmospheric and streaked with interesting shadows. I liked it.
My only real quibble is the final action sequence, which involves Lanyard in a borrowed plane, firing a machine gun at a car driven by fleeing Nazis. This is supposed to be Egypt, but the landscape looks like the American Midwest. I mean, there’s plenty of desert not far from Los Angeles. Couldn’t they have shot there? (I expect the answer is, “We were using stock footage.”)
Another Gray Man novel by Mark Greaney. The books make no claim to literary excellence or psychological depth. They’re just action movies in print form, low on credibility but high on entertainment value.
The basics of super-operative Court Gentry’s life have changed in Gunmetal Gray. (By the way, this use of the term “gunmetal” annoys me a little. Everyone assumes – as I did at first – that the word “gunmetal” refers to the color of iron or steel. Because that’s what we make guns out of today. But originally [I looked it up once] it referred to a yellow color, the color of brass – because that’s what cannons used to be made of. Not that anyone cares anymore.) Anyway, Court Gentry is back in the good graces of the CIA, not as a regular agent but as a deniable private contractor. This situation, though one he’s longed for for years, is not as good as he imagined, as he will soon learn.
A Chinese army computer hacker named Fan Jiang has defected.
He had intended to run to Taiwan, but ended up in the hands of Hong Kong
gangsters. The Chinese contracted with Sir Donald Fitzroy, an old (though
estranged) friend of Court’s, to retrieve Fan. Sir Donald’s first two teams got
killed, and so he asked Court to step in. The Chinese have added an incentive –
they’ve kidnapped Sir Donald, and promise to kill him if he can’t get the job
completed.
Court takes the job, with the CIA’s encouragement. They don’t
care about Sir Donald – they want Fan for themselves. Court, though, plans to
do it his own way – to divert Fan to the Americans while rescuing Sir Donald.
Piece of cake.
If the plot sounds kind of convoluted, it is. I found a lot
of the book unengaging – you’ve got a couple kinds of gangsters plus the
Chinese and the Russians (I didn’t mention the Russians before), and Court
himself, running around bumping into one another like characters in a French
bedroom farce – except bloodier. It was kind of hard to tell the players apart.
It got better toward the end, when Court paired up with a
beautiful Russian operative who’s sort of a distaff image of himself (sparks
fly). At that point my interest returned. Court comes out looking pretty good,
though otherwise it’s hard to tell the white hats from the black in this story.
In spite of cynicism about the CIA (no doubt justified), there’s a basic morality and American patriotism in the Gray Man books that please me. I recommend Gunmetal Gray if you’re a fan of this kind of story, though it’s not the best of the series. Cautions for language, violence, and some off-stage sex.
I have a new column up at The American Spectator Online today: Slaves to Intellectual Fashion: 1619. A little more fiery and dismissive than my usual stuff, I think. This particular initiative gets my goat in a personal way. I consider it slander against a country I love and am grateful for.
The weekend was good, thanks for asking. We had a couple Viking groups at Nisswa, Minnesota for a one-day Viking event on Saturday. I took a few pictures, but they weren’t very good. Having 2 groups together made it possible to have some relatively impressive battles, with (I guess) 15 to 20 guys all together. I did not participate in those. I sat in my pavilion in Viking splendor, dispensing wisdom and information to all comers. Also selling books.
It was nice, the weather was beatiful, and I stayed with some very gracious hosts in Brainerd. All in all, pretty rewarding. The scuttlebutt is that the event will happen again next year.
If you’re in the Bemidji Minnesota area tomorrow, a lot of bloodthirsty Vikings will be gathered there for a brand new festival. I shall be among them, spreading sunshine on my way, as is my wont. Books shall be bought and sold.
