Archive for trenches

a journal of the Hugo year (post ultimum, flight mode)

Posted in Books, Travel, Wines with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 18, 2026 by xi'an

Still banking on the Hugo Award package, as I realised the Best series category also cames with most of the novels, I started reading th Goblin King series, by Katherine Addison, quickly realising I had already read (and enjoyed) the first volume. Thanks to being stuck in Sapporo airports for an unspecified duration, I went through two of the volumes, which are enticing enough if somewhat slow and focussing on very mundane aspects like the layering of the city where the action takes place and its tram lines. (And never omitting a single meal or tea type, the more annoyingly because these types are all made up!) Another shortlisted series is John Scalzi’s Old Man War, of which I already read four volumes and enjoyed very much, if not to the point of reading the seven of them. Maybe later! I also read the novelette Automatic Noodle, which features a group of abandoned robots starting a (Xi’an!) noodle company by making almost perfect biang biang pulled noodles. (With the intricate ideogram 𰻞𰻞麵) After almost a month in Japan eating soba at least once a day (!), it should have appealed to me but it did not, as the robotic aspects were very light while the whole story fell flat and stale, far from the expected dish! But it made me curious to attempt to try making the noodles..!

Watched (over the Arctic Ocean!) Au revoir là–haut (See you up there), a 2017 movie by Albert Dupontel about a couple of WW I trench veterans conceiving a heist by selling war memorials that never materialise. The story is told on the fantastic realism side, methinks too much!, but it vividly reminded me of a WW I museum in La Somme I visited a few years ago, where a whole section was dedicated to the (rough) treatment of disfigured soldiers with missing face parts… And of the birth of neuroplastic surgery.

a journal of the burning year

Posted in Books, Kids, Mountains, pictures, Running, Travel, University life, Wines with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 15, 2026 by xi'an

Read another Hugo “best novel”, The Everlasting by Alix E. Harrow, which I could not complete. The story is a time loop scenario when one (academic) character repeatedly travels to the past to impact the destiny of his nation, but too many loops kill the fun! Plus clumsy borrow-ups from the Arthurian cycle and 1984 characters And a short story, Kaiju Agonistes by Scott Lynch. Given my deep admiration for the Gentlemen Bastards series, esp. the first volume (The Lies of Locke Lamora), I was expecting much better than a light-weight science fiction story where an alien finds turning a venture capitalist is the best way for humans to stop the nuclear armament race…   And a few pages of [not an Hugo hopeful!] Angel Down by Daniel Kraus. Despite it being set in the trenches of WW I, which is a good premise given my childhood fascination for the “Great War” (and my sapper neighbour who had kept memorabilia from his war actions, including bits of grenade under his arm skin!). But the style of one sentence a paragraph was just too unbearable, while the action did not seem to move in the least.

Prepared almost exclusively cold salads to cope with the heat waves, except for the occasional pissaladière (despite its warmup impact). And even more bowls of rhubarb preserve both from my garden and from the local market. But recycled red lentils dahl into a quite decent humus, which may prove the future choice instead of chickpeas.

Watched few series, with again midstream abandons, like Straight to Hell, on a famous (real character) fortune-teller, despite an interesting rendering of post WW II Japan. And A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder, which is set in an idyllic English countryside town but runs way too light to be convincing in any respect. Watched most of Mobius, a Chinese thriller with magical aspects since the main detective regularly finds himself caught in a time loop (coïncidence!). Rather addictive action series, with a criticism of big tech,  if a wee bit too sleek (and dreadfully slow moving on the romantic aspects).

1917

Posted in Books, Kids, pictures, Travel with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on February 23, 2020 by xi'an

While in Chamonix, last week, I went to see a film for the first time in many months (as the latest installment of Star Wars does not count!).  As it happened, there was a English version of 1917 (and the theatre was full of English speaking spectators, in this most British of French Alpine towns!). I had no prior opinion about the film, for once, having missed my national public radio cinema critic show. The setting was rather impressive at the beginning with the crossing of the deserted “no-man’s-land” between bomb holes and decomposed cadavres, in a constant rush to save thousands from a planned massacre, but then the story stalls into an allegory that becomes almost cartoonesque, from the cut orchards to the plane running into their barn, to the eerie lighting of the ruins, to the episode with the refugee, to the fall in the river and the sad Wayfaring Stranger song (which made me think of the dwarven song in the Hobbit!) and to the anti-climactic reaction of Benedict Cumberbatch. By making the fate of so many depends on the unrealistic bravery of a single man, Mendes’ film may point out (rather cheaply) at the absurdity of it all. But it also contributes to perpetuate the myth of the hero, arriving against all odds (and then some) to save them all (if at the 13th hour). Granted, the film is effective and I was on the verge of tears by its ending, when the brother receives the bad news, but by focussing on the most unrepresentative soldier of the whole front, freely running in the (killing) fields rather than being stuck in the rotten mud for months, it missed the terrible fate of the overwhelming majority, condemned to die without redeeming heroic actions.

Fear [book review]

Posted in Books, pictures, Travel with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 18, 2015 by xi'an

Last time I was in Edinburgh for an ICMS conference, I bought this book, Fear by Gabriel Chevalier, from the nice nearby bookstore, out of a pile of novels about World War I. This was in 2014, “celebrating” the start of the “Great” War… Although 1914-1918 is a century ago, WWI was quite a presence during my childhood, from official ceremonies to history books, to neighbours and relatives who had fought in the war. Like my old neighbour who had been a sapper, fought at Chemin des Dames, and had some schnarpel left under his skin that he would keep till his death. And I somewhat picked this book by chance for its back-cover summary, its tale of plain honesty about the meaningless war in the French trenches, surviving as a “poilu” for the four years the bloody was lasted and facing fear and pitiful superiors by accepting death as a most likely outcome. I had not realised then that the book was actually written in French by a Frenchman and recently (most beautifully) translated into English! And that it was the same writer who had written the arch-famous Clochemerle novels.

“We all have a fund of luck (we like to believe) and if you draw on it for too long there will be nothing left. Of course there is no law to this and everything comes down to probabilities.”

I think it is actually better I did not realise this until late, because I did not particularly like Clochemerle when I read it (close to 40 years ago!), with its easy jokes and caricatures. This novel is just fabulous and I am surprised it is not more well-known in France. The reference novel for the “Grande Guerre” is usually quoted as being Wooden Crosses by Roland Dorgeles, even though it is much less critical of the establishment than the vitriolic Fear which often adopts anarchist tones to analyse this bloodbath from another era (?). Just as in Wooden Crosses and the fantastic Erich Maria Remarque’s All Quiet on the Western Front, the book insists on the intense camaraderie between base soldiers, against superiors and suicidal missions, but, as suggested by its title, it also digs very deeply in the psychology of the foot soldiers when faced with almost certain death. And acknowledges from the start the constant fear, which would make the book quite controversial when it got published in 1930. A truly remarkable book I wish I had read years ago, when my old neighbour was still alive. (The New York Times published a much more interesting review about a year ago.)