Archive for E.M. Forster

a journal of the cha(ca)os (and fig) year

Posted in Books, Kids, Mountains, pictures, Travel, Wines with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 1, 2025 by xi'an

 Read the last part of The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet by David Mitchell, which still  takes place in the early 1800’s at the Dutch East India Company trading post Dejima in Nagasaki, as the historical aspects—like the attempt by a British ship to take over the outpost—beat the weakest features of the story. The end does feel rushed.

I made my first attempt at a chocolate tablet by mixing the cocoa—cacao in French—paste (kako in Créole) I brought back from Guadeloupe—made from the cocoa seeds I had bought at the market, roasting and crushing them—with crushed biscuits and a tiny bit of butter. The result was keeping with the bitter chocolate flavour I enjoy in 100% cocoa tablets, if presumably richer in fat and sugar, and more on the chocolate biscuit side! As the fig tree is now delivering at full speed, I am making compotes and office deliveries on most days, along with picking great tomatoes (which survived the heat waves) and the second chili pepper that grew from the chili tree this summer—sadly so low on the Scoville scale that it didn’t much differ from the peppers that also grew there—. In a bountiful year, the only failure was the buckwheat attempt, since no single flower came to deliver. Expert advice is thus sought for next year! This did not prevent me from resuming cooking whey (from skyr) and buckwheat, rye, or chestnut crêpes (on the Amazon iron griddle that no longer sticks!).

Watched and enjoyed the series Dept. Q, a gritty, depressing, and engrossing detective story that mixes cold cases, domestic violence, PTSD, sexism, several levels of guilt, and a variety of Scottish accents, from Edinburgh to the Western Isles. Despite the captivity thread in the scenario that I always dislike as a weak option in this kind of story, albeit making more sense as the episodes unfold. The grey areas surrounding most characters keeps the series at quite an acceptable level of engagement, as does the range of personalities thus displayed. This includes most victims that could have fallen into the poor-dear trap, but remain ambiguous and equally guilty to maintain the balance. Looking forward new seasons (not in the Scottish sense, where most days usually cover all four of them!). Also watched the second season of Wednesday, enjoyable enough if on the light and repetitive side. With Jenna Ortega still running the show, along with a stronger presence of Catherine Zeta-Jones. Just missing the Cramps moment of Season 1!

a journal of the chaos (and rhubarb) year

Posted in Books, Kids, Mountains, pictures, Travel, Wines with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 30, 2025 by xi'an

 Read Fjellet, geværet, vannet (A mountain, a gun, a lake) by Lars Ramslie (in French, published by the Chamonix based Paulsen editions). A perturbing recollection of a broken childhood between the Norwegian outdoors and violent parenting, in the shadow of an out-of-control father. To the point I found it rather hard to finish the book, the author (and son) being often borderline apologetic for his father’s violent outbursts. That he survived such a trauma is astounding. That local social services could not keep his father away is a shame… I also read E.M. Forster’s A Passage to India classic, while travelling to Chennai, which already reviewed in a separate post.

Beyond indulging in South Indian dishes and a never ending range of appams and local fruits, I made rhubarb preserve from a home-grown rhubarb planting, sometime supplemented with the first figs from our fig-tree and sometime augmented by farmer market sticks. Picked too hot a day to make a ceviche, despite a quick dip in lemon as I returned from the market. (No aftereffect, it just did not taste nice.) And panned an experimental monkfish liver that proved nice and ejnoyable (and with a very mild taste compared with the veal liver I had to eat once a week as a child).

Watched nothing on the flights to and from India. Not even my neighbours’ screens! But watched the Japanese TV series The Hot Spot that is rather funny if not hilarious, and on the lengthy side (esp. all the lunch meetings in Mont Blanc (!) restaurant). Still, the mundane lives of all characters, including the alien—who suffers from all too human shortcomings!—, and  the ever-present backdrop of Mount Fuji make the show worth watching for a while. (A second season feels superfluous, mind.)

a passage to India [book review]

Posted in Books, Mountains, pictures, Travel with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 16, 2025 by xi'an

Feeling I had missed a classic of English literature and curious to see Forster’s views on colonial India, I started this book on a plane to India and finished it before I returned. The writing style is excellent, the characters are complex and, for the most multifaceted, the setting is inspired by Forster’s visits to India and hence realistic, the story timeline is well-set, for the most (ie except for the last part), and the scenario is engaging and realistic, but, obviously, what makes the book a masterpiece is its depiction of the British Raj from many perspectives, from British enforcers of its colonialism to British critics of said colonialism, to Indians trained in Britain, to completely local Indians, with the clash of multiple cultures and religions. Victorian prudery mixes with racial prejudices, resentment against discriminations leads to early (?) germs of fighting for independence, and the characteristic reaction of such a discriminatory and racist society to a claim of sexual impropriety on a British woman from a native man. This central event of the book is brought in both very subtly and unexpectedly (for those like me who had no initial idea of the story), with an equally subtle uncertainty about what really happened that remains till the end. If anything, the book may be delivering a pessimistic message on the impossible friendship between individuals from the ruling and oppressed groups, despite it being scandalous at the time for even suggesting such a friendship was conceivable. (The attached cover of the Penguin Classic edition is amazingly close to the excursion episode!)

AI Narratives [book review]

Posted in Books with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 13, 2025 by xi'an

AI Narratives: A history of imaginative thinking about intelligent machines is a 2020 collective book edited by Stephen Cave, Kanta Dihal, and Sarah Dillon, with about twenty contributing authors, through a series of 16 chapters on the relation between culture (literature, films) and our societal approach to AI, with varying perspectives, some overlap between chapters, a wide range of extrapolation, especially in relation with the oldest books (like Homer’s) and quotes from both books I enjoyed and books I had not heard of, to add to my to-red pile, like Roderick. Predominant place of Blade Runner, of Ĉapek’s Rossum’s Universal Robots, not only for introducing the term, and of Asimov, but also a detailed analysis of the great, thought-provoking, Ann Leckie’s Ancillary Justice. With a realization that Gibson’s Neuromancer had aged quite a lot… For the modern times, very little outside the US-UK realm, as for instance no mention made of Jules Verne or René Barjavel, although Zola makes an appearance when describing workers as automats, neither of the Germanic literature (from the Grimm Brothers onwards), nor of the non-negligible USSR science fiction production, nor yet of the Chinese input, like The three body problem. Other books that could have made it: the Murderbot diaries, and The Alchemy Wars trilogy, for digging into the blurry border between humans and AIs; A Memory Called Empire, for a clever approach to mind uploading, as well as the masterly Never let me go by Ishiguro, both dealing with a future where copies of humans The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay for the golem, the short story An Unatural Life, for its highly original take on the legal rights of humanoid robots, A Psalm for the Wild-Built because of… tea and Zen monk, obviously!

Among things I learned from AI Narratives, the story of Alan Turing (figuratively) mansplaining Ada Lovelace on her pronouncement that machines cannot be intelligent since they deliver what they are coded for. The mention of automatos in the Illiad. A mention of 1625 Gabriel Naudé Apologie &tc. that excludes magic as irrational, as well as introducing the term androide. The trivia that the creator of the (fraudulent) automaton chess player, Kempelen, also produced in 1791 an authentic if brainless speaking machine. The realisation that E.M Forster also wrote a futuristic novel, The Machine Stops (as well as the precursor of the symbolists, Villiers de l’Isle Adam, with L’Ève Future). Another trivia that cyberpunk first appeared in a 1983 short story by Bruce Bethke. A discussion of the elaborate Culture constructed by Iain Banks, albeit through volumes in the series I hade not read, along with the concept of OCP for outside context problem, akin to Taleb’s Black Swan. The least interesting (and final) chapter in the book is paradoxically the closest to data analysis, when Recchia runs a rather low-tech assessment of a subtitle dataset in relation with AI, if referring to Tufte’s rule of the baselin in the notes (p405).

Definitely enjoyable book, then, even though I mostly skimmed through the chapters during a day-trip to Lille on a Bank (!) holiday. Reading through it made me muse rather belatedly of a parallel between AI scare or adoration, and the non-AI societies, where individuals are (also) part of a structure large enough to miss the larger picture. From building pyramids to being part of the global economy. (This followed mostly from my surprise in seeing Dickens, Trollope, and Zola included in the discussion.)

[Disclaimer about potential self-plagiarism: this post or an edited version will eventually appear in my Books Review section in CHANCE.]

A passage to India & to 2025

Posted in Kids, pictures, Running, Travel with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 16, 2025 by xi'an

Another great trip to India in association with the bi-yearly Winter IISA (International Indian Statistical Association) conference, including the opportunity to visit Kerala since the conference was taking place in Kochi (formerly Cochin). And a relatively smooth and relaxing trip as well! (And involuntarily repeating the Forsterite title of the earlier post.)

We left (as earlier) Paris on Xmath day, with de Gaulle airport busier than expected, including by the staff there, since a shortage of both border police officers and of luggage handlers caused a one-hour delay, with a full airplane to Bengaluru. Our flight took a rather circuitous route to avoid less secure air spaces, namely Ukraine, Israël, Syria, Iraq, and Iran, but also staying away from Houtis, hence turning sharply over the Sinaï to fly over Saudi Arabia. Massala chai onboard! My next seat neighbours sounded busy rescheduling their vacations (or others’?) to a visa-free country as some members of their party had apparently been denied boarding for that reason. (And I indeed had to frantically search through emails to recover the confirmation message from the Indian e-visa service provider at the boarding gate. But I had a great time reviewing grant proposals for most the flight!)

We were hoping for a smoother e-visa processing in Bengaluru than at our earlier visit for IISA 2022, and were indeed rewarded by no wait at all, leaving us more than five hours to switch between terminals for the leg to Kochi (and only too late realising too late there was an hotel inside the airport)! Single checked-in luggage was there at arrival in Kochi and prebooked taxi as well, to take sleep-deprived-us to a remote lodge in Mamalakkandam, at the foothill of the Western Ghats. Had some horrendous drives in this area, with small roads ill-equipped for crossing tourist buses, requiring several minutes and people directing vehicle choreographies from the pavement at times.Very relaxing stay, with tolerable temperatures, although we missed the elephants if not their multiple and fresh tracks and droppings! And managed to see a couple of Sri Lanka frogmouths, who really look like ChatGPT rendering of a chimera between a frog and a starling! And visited a small rubber farm thanks to the half-taxi-half-farming owner (with cocoa, cardamom and pepper parting gifts!).

This passage was also a foodie’s dream trip, as we discovered many new dishes, like a spicy chicken cooked in bamboo stick in an open fire and many local breads, e.g., illyappams, parathas, idlis, vellayapams, puttus, challas, and orottis, plus plenty of local dishes. Bought all kinds of spices. Celebrated New Year’s eve in Kochi by a light dinner with friends, at a local Saravana Bhavan branch that actually differed much from the one around the corner from Gare du Nord, Paris! I could not recognise most items in the menu, besides their landmark dosas and chaats, and some orders proved quite unexpected if pleasant surprises (albeit too spicy for my companions!) and was awaken a wee bit later by fireworks all over Kochi that seemed to get on forever. I could not reach a tea plantation near Munnar and further found it impossible to buy local tea, until reaching Kochi where some shops had green teas of unclear origin. It proved equally impossible to spot Munnar tea sold by reliable online tea companies.

The last station was Kuramakom, on the shores of the huge Vembanad Lake—longer than the Finger lakes surrounding Ithaca, New York—, where we saw plenty of birds as we were ferried through the backwaters at dusk. Visited the local bird sanctuary, at dawn to optimize our chances, but they remained low enough to only see a … tortoise crossing the path and a large fruit bat flying away. Day temperatures were such as making reading in the shade almost compulsory, which helped cleaning the pile of books I had taken with me.

The trip back was uneventful and reasonably delayed, considering that Delhi airport was shrouded in heavy fog and pollution, and as cold as Paris. With the incredible coïncidence of Didier Fraix-Burnet (IPAG) travelling the same flight Delhi-Paris as me, him returning from visiting Asis Chattopadhyay at the University of Calcutta—whom I visited over New Year’s Eve almost a decade ago And made it back to Paris, with our bags of groceries, with a -23⁰ temperature drop, instead of the -38⁰ drop we would have experienced a day earlier.