Reading Week 2024: Warning! Warning!

My wife's family has been vacationing in Palm Springs for basically her entire life, and it's always been an opportunity for them to take life easy: lie by the pool, drink margaritas, and go shopping.  I'm not a pool person, and tequila does not speak to me, but I'm at least able to tag along when my wife wants to tour the various retail opportunities in the Coachella Valley, and even buy something now and then.

One of the standard shopping destinations is the weekend Street Fair at the College of the Desert, a market which features a wide range of shopping options: clothing, fashion, hats, tech, art, food, groceries,  sunglasses and so on. Generally we just wander around and browse, but every now and then we do buy something, and yesterday, the purchase of the moment was socks - Lost In Space socks.

These are a surprisingly retro item, when you think about it. The original Lost In Space series that these socks are referencing ran from 1965 to 1968 - I can't speak to their history in syndication, but regardless, the audience from that era is getting smaller and smaller.  Admittedly, the series has been rebooted twice, one in the 1998 film version, and then as a television series again in 2018 (also for three seasons), but these socks are definitely an homage to the 1965 show: it's the original Robot and his patented catchphrases.

However, let's not forget that we're in Palm Springs, the place where kitsch comes to die - or at least, to retire and play golf.  I may be overthinking the whole thing: maybe I just need to wear them ironically, if that's a thing you can do with socks.

- Sid

November 6th, 2024.

- Sid

 

The Lonesome October.

To—
Mary Shelley, Edgar Allan Poe, Bram Stoker,
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, H. P. Lovecraft, Ray Bradbury,
Robert Bloch, Albert Payson Terhune,
and the makers of a lot of old movies—
Thanks.

 Roger Zelazny, Dedication, A Night in the Lonesome October 

Perhaps it were best to take it day by day.

Snuff the Dog

I spent the month of October reading one book.

Well, I actually finished off four or five books, but I specifically set some time aside to read A Night In the Lonesome October, by science fiction and fantasy author Roger Zelazny. This was Zelazny's last book before his death in 1995, and apparently one of his top five favourite novels from his prolific writing career.

The book's chapters are simply the dates of the days of the month of October (along with an introduction), and as such, fans of the book have adopted the practice of reading the appropriate chapter on each day of the month.

The plot is simple: whenever the full moon falls upon October 31st, the wall between worlds grows thin, and:

 "...a number of the proper people are attracted to the proper place in the proper year on a night in the lonesome October when the moon shines full on Halloween and the way may be opened for the return of the Elder Gods to Earth, and of how some of these people would assist in the opening of the way for them while others would strive to keep the way closed."

The cast of characters (not all of whom are the proper people) is drawn from the standard genre dramatis personae, to the point where some of them go without names: the Count; the Good Doctor and his Experiment Man; the Great Detective, who spends an unexpected amount of time in drag; Morris and MacCab (standing in for Burke and Hare); a druid: a vicar who is very much not Anglican; a mad Russian; Lawrence Talbot, who knows a thing or two about the full moon; and Jack, who apparently has quite a sharp knife and no longer lives in London.  Some of these characters would seek to open the way for the Elder Gods, and some to close it, and so the plot proceeds, day by day.

The story is narrated by Jack's watchdog Snuff - or at least Snuff is a dog at the time of the story, there's a brief comment that Snuff prefers beings a dog to "what I was before he summoned me and gave me this job." Snuff enjoys an unlikely friendship with Graymalk the cat, companion and familiar to Crazy Jill the Witch.

 It's a pleasantly light read, full of little jokes and little references to the history of the genre of horror in text and film, all delivered with Zelazny's usual poetic style and effortless skill - honestly, I can't help but think that it must have been a lot of fun to write, no wonder it was a favourite of Zelazny's.  Suitable illustration is provided by Gahan Wilson, one of the premier weird artists of the 20th century.

And, as you'd expect, at the end of the story, which comes with a cleverly unexpected twist, Jack and Jill run down a hill - and Snuff comes tumbling after.

- Sid