Honeymoon 8: Potterland

 

“Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows 

Today we're off to the Warner Brothers Harry Potter Tour - well, strictly speaking, the Warner Brothers Studio Tour London: The Making of Harry Potter. At this point, I have to issue a frank disclaimer: I'm not a fan. In fact, I have only read the first book in the Harry Potter series, and seen none of the movies.*

People are generally surprised by this: how could I not be a Harry Potter fan?

In my defense, I've spent literally my entire life reading fantasy**, and after being exposed to The Once and Future King, The Gammage Cup, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Borrowers, The Weirdstone of Brisingamen and The Moon of Gomrath, The Black Cauldron, and The Dark Is Rising series - not to mention The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, and obscure fare such as What Happened at Garry-Eustace at an early age, Harry Potter and his initiation to the world of magic didn't make the impression that it might otherwise have made on a neophyte to the world of fantasy.

However, it's one of those cultural phenomena that have had such a large influence on popular culture that I've picked up enough information through sheer exposure to fake my way through most conversations about either the books or the movies.***

Karli, on the other hand, fell in love with both the books and the film adaptations, and as such the tour was on the planning list for our honeymoon from the very start.

The studio is located in Leavesden, about 20 miles north west of London. We opt to skip the slightly pricey two hour bus ride from London and instead take the train to Watford Junction, where a bus service takes us the rest of the way to the studio grounds. We redeem our ticket voucher, and head inside.

It's a somewhat lengthy walk from the admission windows to the actual exhibition, but the organizers have cleverly added a full-length mural featuring well-chosen quotes from the books - which has the effect of making the walk longer, as we dodge around people doing group shots and selfies (as well as taking a few pictures ourselves).

Whereas most tours and experiences end up at the gift shop, Warner Brothers has decided to get their visitors coming and going: both the entrance and the exit to the tour require that ticket holders go through the gift shop.  Our tickets have a specified entry time, so after a short browse we get in line to be part of the next entry group.

As it turns out, "tour" is a bit of a misnomer, although audio guides are available. In practice, almost all of the experience is self-guided.  After an introduction by one of the studio's Interactors and a short video featuring actors from the movies, our group takes a quick look at The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive, then enters the Great Hall for a brief overview of the 150,000 square foot site and a quick look at the set and some costumes.

 We are then ushered out into the Big Room so that the next group can enter, at which point we are left to our own resources in terms of making our way through the displays and sets from the seven movies.  The website suggests that guests should plan for about three hours at the site - we came in at three and a half.

 

Even then, our visit could have easily gone longer.  The Big Room offers an exhaustive (and somewhat exhausting) offering of sets, costumes and settings from the films, such as Dumbledore's study, Hagrid's hut, Dolores Umbridge's office (and pink suits), bedrooms from Hogwarts, the Gryffindor common room, the Weasley household, and the Death Eaters' meeting table.

The potions classroom set features animated spoons stirring steaming cauldrons, and the tomb of the Riddle family stands in grim solitude as the functional pendulum from the Hogwarts Clock Tower ponderously swings to and fro at one side of the room.  Guests also have the opportunity to purchase a green-screened video of a wild broomstick ride, or just to catch their broom as it rises from the floor.

 

 

After leaving the Big Room, passing through the spider-filled Forbidden Forest, and stopping at Platform 9 3/4 to briefly board the Hogwarts Express, we take a break at the Backlot Café, where we both try the infamous Butterbeer.

To be honest, it's not as bad as some online reviews would suggest, although it's a shame that the foam is artificial rather than produced by actual bubbles. Based on the number of full glasses left on tables, it's obvious that not everyone finds it to their taste, although the lineup at the rinsing station indicates that people are certainly eager to retain the souvenir flagons.

 

The second part of the tour takes us outside to the backlot itself to see the Knight Bus, a section of the Hogwarts Bridge, and the Privet Drive home of the Dursleys, which includes a reproduction of the moment when the letters to Harry from Hogwarts burst out of the chimney.

 

From there we go back inside to the Practical Effects mask and model display, then take a stroll along the shops on Diagon Alley.

 

 

The final part of the tour looks at the creative process behind the films, showing the office of production designer Stuart Craig, a selection of technical drawings and concept illustrations, white card maquettes of Hogwarts and other structures, and finally a 1:24 scale physical model of Hogwarts itself which is approximately 50 feet across. This incredibly detailed model took the equivalent of 74 years worth of work-hours to produce.

 

 

Even as a non-fan, it's impossible not to be impressed by the exhibition, both by its sheer scale and the quality and quantity of exhibits and displays. Being able to take a sustained closeup look at the sets and props reveals the astonishing degree of attention to detail that the designers and creators brought to their work on the movies.  The contributions made by all parties to the creation of Harry Potter's magical world is celebrated in a suitable fashion:  the final display is a room full of wand boxes, with each and every participant in the movies recognized on a box label.

 

After spending some time (and some money) in the gift shop, we return to the bus stop and head back to London, a bit worn out but very impressed.

In the unlikely event that there's someone else who hasn't seen the movies reading this, I would unhesitatingly recommend the studio tour, fan or not.  It's an incredible voyage through a different world, a testament to the skill, dedication and commitment of everyone involved in the movies, and completely worth the investment of time, travel and money.

- Sid

P.S. And there's a happy ending - I've agreed to watch the movies with Karli.


* I have to perjure myself a little here.  I went to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them with Karli when it first came out in 2016, and really enjoyed it.

 ** Or having it read to me.  My mother read the Narnia books to me as bedtime stories long before I could read them myself.

*** This is surprisingly easy to do, but always feels a bit dishonest.  However, it's probably easier than having the conversation about not being a fan.

Gnomic Statement XVII (and still going strong).

"Wait, I have to take a picture of this!"

"Why?"

"This is where Jerry Cornelius lives!!!"

"Oh.  Blog thing?"

"Yep."

- Sid

Honeymoon 7: "People like us shop at Forbidden Planet"

The Birthday Trilogy, Part III

After a fascinating trip to the Tower of London and a quick late lunch, Karli and I continue my our day out with an abortive visit to the BBC, in hopes of purchasing merch for the new season of Doctor Who. Sadly, when we arrive at Broadcasting House at Portland Place, a security guard brusquely informs us that the shop had been closed for quite a while*, and directs us to "shops on the high street", a less than informative dismissal.

Fortunately, our next stop is far more rewarding: the Forbidden Planet London Megastore, conveniently located on Shaftesbury Avenue near the Tottenham Court Underground station.

Forbidden Planet, which turned 40 in July of this year, claims to be "...the world's largest and best-known science fiction, fantasy and cult entertainment retailer!" and their 10,000 square foot flagship shopping outlet does its very best to live up to that claim.  In addition to its London location, there are 25 other Forbidden Planet stores scattered around the British Isles, and an outlet at Broadway and East 12th Avenue in New York.

As one would expect, the ground floor of the London location has a full array of all the comic book/movie/video game merch that a fan could possibly desire.

(Please note that said fan may need deep pockets:  original pricing for the three items from the window display in the above photo would have set you back £1,749.97 or about three grand in Canadian dollars.  Good thing the two statuettes are on sale.)

But for me, the real prize at Forbidden Planet is their lower level, which features an impressively large offering of science fiction and fantasy, Japanese manga, comic books, reference texts, and graphic novels.

(Not to mention fandom crochet kits.)

It's safe to say that I've visited lots of non-specialty bookstores that were smaller than Forbidden Planet's genre-specific offering, which actually makes it a bit of challenge for me to shop here. In stores where there's not a lot to choose from, it doesn't take very long to make a decision, but the selection at Forbidden Planet is comprehensive to the point of being overwhelming - it would probably take me four or five days of visits just to become familiar enough with the inventory to feel that I was making an informed choice.

However, I don't have the luxury of dedicating a week of our honeymoon to one store, so when K. W. Jeter's George Dower trilogy catches my eye in the Steampunk section, I'm almost relieved that I've spotted  something of interest.  The trilogy is a suitable choice for more than one reason: it's in a letter to the editor of SF magazine Locus about Infernal Devices, the first book in the series, that Jeter coined the phrase "steampunk" to describe the particular sort of Victorian-era science fiction that he and his fellow authors Tim Powers and James Blaylock had been writing.  I'm also impressed by the trilogy's intricate and ornate cover artwork - I know, you're not supposed to judge books on this basis, but they really are well done.

 

Just for fun, I also pick up a copy of 2000 A.D., England's long-running serialized weekly comic magazine.  Most people in North America are unfamiliar with 2000 A.D. or any of the cast of characters that have appeared in the magazine since its first issue in February of 1977: Rogue Trooper, a solitary clone soldier; the robotic ABC Warriors; barbarian warrior Sláine; Johnny Alpha, mutant member of the Strontium Dog bounty hunter guild, and so on, with magazine regular Judge Dredd being the sole breakout character.

For my birthday, Karli purchases two additions to my growing collection of geek-appropriate t-shirts, one with the new Doctor Who logo, and one for the store itself, which features the unique artwork created for store advertising by English illustrator Brian Bolland in 1981.  Sadly, they don't have my preferred size for the Doctor Who t-shirt, and when Karli makes the usual pro forma "Do you have an XL in the back?" inquiry to a member of the store's staff,  she is somewhat brusquely informed that they are out of that size at ALL the stores - which, if nothing else, is probably a good sign for the reception of the new Doctor (or at least the new logo).  

Thank you, Large it is...

Karli also purchases a Dancing with Jesus figurine, which joins us in celebrating as we finish off the day with a pint at the Sherlock Holmes, an old school English pub on Northumberland Street. All in all, an excellent London birthday, and my sincere gratitude and appreciation to Karli for sharing the day with me - not to mention the new t-shirts!  Thanks again, my love!

- Sid

* If you have somehow ended up on this page because you were trying to determine the status of the BBC brick-and-mortar shop, IT IS CLOSED.  If you want to buy Doctor Who merch in person rather than online, look elsewhere - although maybe not the high street.

Honeymoon 6: "With her head tucked underneath her arm..."

The Birthday Trilogy, Part II

In the Tower of London large as life,
The Ghost of Anne Boleyn walks they declare.
For Anne Boleyn was once King Henry's wife,
Until he made the headsman bob her hair!
Ah, yes, he did her wrong, long years ago
And, she comes up at night to tell him so!

R.P. Weston & Bert Lee, With her head tucked underneath her arm

Before I met Karli, I used to travel for my birthday - it was an extra little gift, and I enjoyed the opportunity to do something completely different to celebrate the day in a foreign country.  Karli's work schedule has made September travel a bit more of a challenge for the last few years, but this year we had the excuse of taking our honeymoon, so here we are in England, far from home on September 26th.

So - what does the well-travelled geek do in London for their birthday?

The day starts with an appropriately themed card from my wife (it's only been five weeks since the wedding, so it's still neat to say "wife".)  After a leisurely cup of tea and a croissant at our AirBnB, conveniently located just south of Waterloo Station, we make our way to the Underground, buy a pair of day passes, and we're off to our first stop: the Tower of London, one of my favourite sightseeing spots in London.

Karli had expected the Tower of London to be just that: a tower. She was surprised to discover that in fact we were visiting a small castle somehow left untouched over the centuries by London's ongoing urban development. The castle encloses almost 12 acres of land, with another six acres in the surrounding grounds, known as the Tower Liberties. (The castle's moat was drained and filled in at around 1830.)

I've always been fascinated by history, perhaps because there's a point in time where it's a lot like epic fantasy, just without magic, elves or dragons.  Castles and sieges, swords and armour, kings and queens, deadly combat, base betrayals, brutal torture and silent assassination, it's all there.  In fact, some of the events in George R. R. Martin's epic Game of Thrones series are based on the 15th century War of the Roses, where the House of York was locked in battle with the House of Lancaster for control of the English throne for 32 years.  (And Martin's Red Wedding is partially based on the Black Dinner, a 1440 Scottish dine-and-die party.)

The Tower of London's grim history stands testament to the bloody nature of those past centuries - not as long past as one might think, the Tower last saw use as a prison and killing ground in 1941.  Imprisonments, tortures, executions, midnight murders, mysterious disappearances, the Tower has seen them all. Anne Boleyn, Henry VIII's second wife, lived her last days in captivity at the Tower of London, which also witnessed her execution - oh, and the executioner's axe and block are on display in the castle. Henry's less famous fifth wife, Catherine Howard, suffered the same fate.

The Tower's current incarnation is far friendlier than its role in decades and centuries gone by:  one part museum, one part history lesson, one part arsenal, one part school, and home to the Crown Jewels, the Tower sees over two million visitors annually.

The central keep, known as the White Tower, is the oldest part of the castle. This Norman fortification was built in 1087 under the orders of Harold the Conqueror, and now showcases the more noteworthy items from the Royal Armouries collection.

The White Tower's exhibits are not intended to present a comprehensive history of arms and armour, but rather its most impressive examples: the armour of kings.*  As such, the samples on display are skillfully crafted, artfully articulated, and artistically embellished - gilded, embossed, and engraved.

The exhibits also feature a full range of functionality: specialized jousting and mêlée armours for the make-believe of tournaments, fantastic parade armours, multi-pieced garniture armours with interchangeable pieces, and practical field armours for the battlefield itself.

The final display is far more utilitarian and perhaps shows a grim sense of humour:  it's a contemporary P90 submachine gun, stubby, ugly and unornamented - which, at 900 rounds per minute, is a completely democratic solution to the final argument of kings.

- Sid

* There is also a small apologetic plaque that addresses the lack of the armour of queens - or any mention of queens at all, really.

Honeymoon 5: Sidebar

The Birthday Trilogy, Part I

Dear Colin:

Hello, my friend!  It’s been a while since I’ve put pen to digital paper with you in mind, but I felt that your generous gift for my birthday deserved a longer response than just a thank-you text.

I’ve always felt that a birthday gift should involve something that, for whatever reason, the person wouldn’t buy for themselves, but might want to if they could - which is why I earmarked my gift to you as part of your guitar replacement fund.  However, I freely admit that I'm a tougher crowd in that sense, I don't even play the guitar, let alone have the need to replace a broken one.

Regardless, I do have a short list of extravagances that I might indulge in given the opportunity, starting with the Chris Hadfield MasterClass on Space Exploration.

 

The MasterClass program showcases an unbelievable list of instructors, featuring chess lessons from Garry Kasparov, Bob Woodward on journalism, Jane Goodall teaching conservation, Annie Leibovitz for photography, film making from Spike Lee, and a much longer list of luminaries from a wide range of specialties. Commander Hadfield is an obvious choice for Space Exploration, with a class that features 29 video sessions dealing with a fascinating range of topics that includes Astronaut Training, Orbital Mechanics, Capsule Design, the exploration of Mars,  and concludes with an overview of Chris’ journey to becoming an astronaut and the lessons he learned on his way.

The $120 MasterClass fee would still leave part of your gift - what to do with the rest?

It seems obvious to me that a visit to the past would be a suitable compliment for a visit to the future – as such, the balance of your present will go towards four weeks of training in swordplay at Vancouver's Academie Duello, conveniently located about eight blocks from my workplace.  The school offers a choice between rapier and broadsword, and given that the latter features two-handed broadsword, sword and shield, and poleaxe, that may well be my class of choice.

Don’t be surprised if this doesn’t happen right away.  We’re currently on our honeymoon, and I’m also in the middle of a 12-week introductory continuing education course in Occupational Health and Safety, so I won’t have free time to dedicate to other pursuits until December.  My current plan is to sign up for Commander Hadfield’s class at the start of the month, and then take a four week break from my regular gym schedule in January for longsword classes at Academie Duello – the beginner’s course runs two nights a week for a month, which would make for an interesting start to the new year.

And that's the plan!  Thank you again, and my best to Jennifer!

Cheers,
Sid

Honeymoon 4: The City of Love

If l had my way
I'd just walk out those doors 
And wander
Down the Champs-Élysées
Going cafe to cabaret
Thinking how I'll feel when I find
That very good friend of mine.

Joni Mitchell, Free Man in Paris

After a night out for dinner (the unusual Burger & Lobster) and theatre (Everybody's Talking About Jamie, an exuberant coming-of-age drag queen musical) on Monday night in London's West End, our Tuesday morning 7:55 Eurostar departure from St. Pancras Station seemed VERY early.  Nonetheless, we arrived within the prescribed one hour security and Customs window before departure, boarded the train, and were off through the Chunnel to Paris for the day.

Arriving at the Gare du Nord just before lunch, we hopped onto a Hop On Hop Off tour bus, and made our way down to the Galerie d'Orsay, where we hopped off for a few hours, browsing through the little street-side stalls near the Seine, strolling through les Jardins des Tuileries, where we enjoyed croque monsieur and Kronenberg for two at a little outdoor cafe, and then wandering down the Champs-Élysées to the Arc de Triomphe where we once again hopped onto a tour bus.

Sadly, the base of the Eiffel Tower is being sealed away behind bulletproof glass and tall steel fences in response to fears of terrorist attacks, and we didn't want to invest the time in standing in line to gain entry - thereby dashing my hopes of a tower-top re-proposal.  We finished the balance of the day with more bus sightseeing, caught our train, and were back in London by ten in the evening:  all in all, a wonderful day out for two in the City of Love. 

During our time spent shopping beside the Seine, I noticed a French paperback collection of H.P Lovecraft stories on sale for an affordable three euros, and decided to pick it up on a whim.  (Which resulted in a brief French transaction with the bouquiniste - because if I didn't speak French, why would I be buying a French book? Fortunately my limited French was easily up to understanding, "Trois euros," and "Merci.")

The joke is that Lovecraft is famous for his archaic and obscure English - lord knows what the French version will look like.  Regardless, I'm looking forward with a certain degree of curiousity as to the Gallic equivalents for "squamous" and "eldritch", although with my limited French, that will be the least of my problems in actually reading this book.

- Sid

 

Honeymoon 3: "The thing about aliens is, they're alien."

Wandering about the south bank of the Thames in the rain while we wait to check in to our AirBnb, and gosh, I won't say that I'm not tempted by this theatrical opportunity at the appropriately named Southbank Underbelly Festival.

- Sid

P.S. Sadly, not meant to be, we would have had to attend that evening, and jetlag recovery won out. 

Honeymoon 2: "Seriously, there's an outrageous amount of running involved."

Jenny: Oh, I've got the whole universe. Planets to save, civilisations to rescue, creatures to defeat and an awful lot of running to do.

The Doctor’s Daughter, Doctor Who

In my opinion, there’s a certain cachet in being able to watch Doctor Who in England, but sadly the premier of the new season takes place one day after we get back to Canada from our honeymoon.  However, it’s not all bad - I somehow doubt that any of the Airbnb’s (or regular BnB’s, for that matter) will have 65 inch HD televisions.

- Sid

P.S. The second trailer for the new season is out, and based on that cursory overview it all seems to fit into the standard format as per The Doctor’s Daughter:  planet saving, civilization rescuing, creature defeating and an awful lot of running, which is either a good thing or a bad thing, depending on whether or not you’re expecting new show runner Chris Chibnall to break the mold. Commenting on the new season, he said:

It’s not a reboot it’s just that great, unique thing which is built into Doctor Who: a fresh start happens every few years. This is no different to when Tom Baker changed to Peter Davison, or when the show went from black and white to colour, with Patrick Troughton handing over to Jon Pertwee. The show has a history of renewal, while also staying faithful to what it is.

It’s the amazing thing about Doctor Who is this fresh start every few years which brings a whole new jolt of energy to the show. And hopefully encourages the next generation of audiences to try the show, while also reminding existing audiences why they love it.

Casting a new actor also brings in new opportunities to think about where the show is, think about where the world is, think about where you might want the stories to go. I hope we’ve got a fresh set of stories that are engaged with, and resonate with, the world we live in now.

It's a busy time for the show, with a new showrunner and a new Doctor, and the first episode, written by Mr. Chibnall, will be under a lot of scrutiny as the frontrunner for the new season.  Will it manage to successfully combine tradition and innovation?  As always, time will tell…

Honeymoon 1: London Calling*

It's been just over a month since our wedding, and Karli and I are at last heading out on our honeymoon: we leave today for six days in London (with a day trip to Paris), an overnight stay in York, a quick Ryanair puddlejumper flight from Leeds to Dublin, followed by a four-day coach tour of Southern Ireland and then back to Dublin for the last three days of our trip. 

We're very excited and eager for the trip:  we've both been to London before, although it's been a while for Karli, but Ireland is unknown territory for me, so I'm quite looking forward to our time there. Really, though, it's all going to be a little more special this time because we're going to be there together.

In addition to just wandering hand in hand beside the Thames in the autumn rain, we do have some definite plans for our time in the capital of the Commonwealth.  We'll be there for my birthday, which we'll commemorate with a trip to the Tower of London and a visit to London's geek shopping paradise, the Forbidden Planet megastore.  We also have tickets for the Warner Brothers Harry Potter Studio Tour, which will take us out of the city to suburban Watford for a visit to Diagon Alley and the Great Hall, among other locations. (Platform 9 3/4 can be found at King's Cross Station in London, if you're curious.)

 

But first, we need to finish packing and get ready to head out to the airport for our afternoon flight. Poor Jaq the Cat can sense that something's going on, and he's been roaming around meowing apprehensively while we stack up clothing, iPad chargers and toiletries.  Sorry, little fellow - we'd love to take you with us, but I don't think you'd enjoy it quite as much as we're expecting to.

- Sid

* I've never really looked at the lyrics to the Clash song before this - it's an astonishing list of apocalyptic disasters:

The ice age is coming, the sun is zooming in
Meltdown expected, the wheat is growin' thin
Engines stop running, but I have no fear
'Cause London is drowning, and I, I live by the river

"The stars are ours."

"We creators are the engineers of possibility. And as this genre finally - however grudgingly - acknowledges that the dreams of the marginalized matter, and that ALL of us have a future, so will go the world. Soon, I hope."

N.K. Jemisin, 2018 Hugo Award for Best Novel acceptance speech

At the 76th Annual Worldcon on August 19th, the 2018 Hugo Award for Best Novel was presented to author N. K. Jemisin for Stone Sky, the third novel in her Broken Earth series, and the third novel in the series to win the Best Novel Hugo.  This makes her the only person to win the Best Novel Hugo three years in a row, and the only person to win for every book in a trilogy.

Her triumphant acceptance speech recognizes the barriers that she has had to overcome in order to stand at the podium. Unfortunately, not everyone has felt that she deserves to be recognized in this fashion. She has been insulted, harassed and dismissed, which makes her victory all the more laudable.

Her treatment reflects a larger problem in the science fiction community, which has been caught up in an unhappy conflict for the last few years.  It is a conflict which in all ways defies and denies the fundamental truths of the genre. 

The dispute is based on the contention of some writers and fans that too much of the science fiction being recognized with awards is receiving that recognition solely because of the race, sexuality or political convictions* of its creators rather than the quality of the writing**.  In the short-sighted view of these reactionaries, divided into the Sad and Rabid Puppies***, winners such as Jemisin are only winners because of liberal politics.

To protest this perceived inequity, for the past few years the Rabid Puppies has been attempting (with some degree of success) to subvert or ruin the Hugo Awards by gaming the voting process so as to load the list of nominees with their choices, some of which are deliberate jokes rather than valid nominees.

The rest of the Worldcon membership has rallied in opposition to this unfortunate strategy, and Jemisin's third victory is a milestone that marks their ongoing success. 

However, I'm puzzled and disappointed by the position taken by the Puppies in all their incarnations.  For me, one of the core lessons that science fiction has taught me is acceptance of diversity.

Over the years, I've read books where the hero was a six foot long alien centipede who was afraid of heights, books where Martians eat the bodies of their dead as a sign of respect and love, and books where an artificial intelligence the size of a planet displays its penmanship by sending greeting cards.

As such, the question of race or sex is almost a joke - if you can empathize with an alien insect's acrophobia, how can stories with gay characters or people of colour be a challenge in terms of acceptance?

Similarly, it doesn't matter to me if the work is created by authors of colour, gay authors, gay authors of colour, or gay authors of colour who worship Satan, worship God, deny God, or believe in Bigfoot - it's all irrelevant other than as minor biographical information, like being from Seattle or having two cats.

The thing that does matter to me is that I share a wider view of the universe with these authors, something which is far more important to me than the colour of anyone's skin or the nature of their sexuality.  That wider view makes us members of the same family, a family that I am proud to belong to.

I discussed this whole situation with my wife Karli, and she made an observation about the Puppies that perfectly summarized the problem:  "They're afraid of the future."

What a sad, sad state of mind for a group of science fiction fans and authors.

- Sid

* Or d), all of the above.

** I haven't had the pleasure of reading any of Ms. Jemisin's work (although I certainly plan to) so in lieu of personal experience I looked at her resume, which turned out to be both extensive and impressive.  It's obvious that she has won her multiple awards by honing her craft, by working really really hard, and by being a talented writer - or, as she puts it, "Because I worked my ass off."

*** This innocuous sounding name comes from Sad Puppies founder Larry Correia, who said that the omission of his work from the Hugo ballots "made puppies sad".

"Thus it was that America sank further and further into Americanism. "

In particular the whole of American life was organized around the cult of the powerful individual... 

Following yesterday's post, it occurs to me that this post has aged remarkably well.

- Sid

1984.

WAR IS PEACE.

FREEDOM IS SLAVERY.

IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH.

George Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four

One of the interesting things about George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four is that we do not witness the transition to the totalitarian state of affairs described in the book.  We enter the dystopian future of Winston Smith in medias res, rather than observing the process whereby the world of Newspeak and Ingsoc comes into being.

However, it's very easy to look at the current state of affairs in the United States and think that it could be showing us the first steps down the horrifying road that results in Smith's milieu, a comparison driven home sharply by the recent comment from Donald Trump's lawyer Rudy Guiliani that "truth is not truth".

Although Guiliani has since attempted to explain that he didn't mean that statement in the way that it's been interpreted, it follows hard on far too many similar examples from the White House such as the obvious doublethink of "alternative facts" - described by Orwell as “an unending series of victories over your own memory” - which is matched by Trump's recent exhortation to a crowd in Kansas City that "What you're seeing and what you're reading is not what's happening." Or, as in Nineteen Eighty-Four:

The Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.

As with the government of Oceania, one-time allies become foes, and foes become allies.  Members of the inner circle are cast out and demonized: a role played in Nineteen Eighty-Four by Emmanuel Goldstein, once a member of the government and now the Enemy of the People, accused of crimes such as "advocating freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of assembly, freedom of thought”.  (Remember Trump's announcement that the media is "an enemy of the people"?)

After a while, it starts to feel like Trump has based his rhetoric on some long-forgotten reading of Orwell's text.  In 1984, "nothing is illegal, because there are no laws", and the government is opposed by " a vast shadowy army, an underground network of conspirators dedicated to the overthrow of the State."

One wonders if the Trump government would ever take the final step as described in the novel:

In the end the Party would announce that two and two made five, and you would have to believe it. It was inevitable that they should make that claim sooner or later: the logic of their position demanded it. Not merely the validity of experience, but the very existence of external reality, was tacitly denied by their philosophy. The heresy of heresies was common sense.

It seems unlikely, but then, they've certainly managed to nail the "ignorance is strength" part - once you have that, the rest must be easy.

- Sid