The Visitors, by Abba

It is always a pleasure, a pleasant surprise, to discover the depth and quality of an artistic work to which one had previously given little more than cursory attention. Like turning a nodding acquaintance into a lifelong, meaningful friendship. I experienced this feeling not long ago when I decided to devote some undivided attention to Abba's 1981 album The Visitors.

This is a finely realised, confident and well-paced work. Given that this was the final studio album recorded by Abba before disbanding, one would perhaps expect to be confronted with a tired effort, lacking in ideas and inspiration. The mood is downbeat, it is true, but on the evidence here Abba, musically speaking, still had much to offer. It would seem that it was only other factors which precipitated the cessation of operations.

The Visitors finds Abba fully embracing new technology, such as synthesizers and electronics generally. They sound comfortable within this altered musical clothing and, far from being awkward or alien, the sounds ideally complement the lyrical tone and outlook of most of the songs, if we confine our appraisal to the original nine-track release.

So this is a mature and self-assured Abba, delivering a record which is cohesive. One of its strengths is that the 'lesser known' tracks capably hold matters together, plugging the gaps which characterize lesser records.

Much has been made of the cover/sleeve design, and the degree to which it embodies the mood of the songs, and the dynamic within the group at that point in time. Gone are the smiling faces and bright, primary colours. An autumnal flavour prevails, and this also permeates the music inside. Autumn, however, can be an invigorating and productive time....

The title track, which seemingly concerns itself with the plight of Soviet dissidents, is a shrewd selection to open with. It sets the tone, and in a cool and controlled way illustrates Abba's acceptance and quiet mastery of the opportunities which the new technology opened up.

As for 'Head Over Heels', this is very sophisticated and 'European' in its style, and helps to remind us that Abba were not simply adopting the fashionable or vogue-ish styles of the period, or acting as opportunists. They were, if perhaps not in the vanguard, then certainly more ahead of the game than numerous other prominent acts, and they arguably helped to popularize the notion of electro-pop or synth-orientated pop music, and to place them into the mainstream.

'When All Is Said And Done' is underpinned by a strong melodic and rhythmic base, and the lyrics perhaps exemplify the general themes which run through the album. Melodically there are definite shades of the 'old' Abba, but with less 'organic' backing.

The first of the 'unknown' songs, which contribute so much to the album's substance, is 'Soldiers', which tackles 'real world' issues, but in a poetic and universal way.  Who knows whether there is also some hidden meaning in there, regarding personal relationships? In this song I detected musical echoes of an earlier Abba song, 'Eagle', albeit with less of the grandeur.

'I Let The Music Speak' fulfils a similar role to 'Soldiers', although carrying a different message. More words which appear to reflect the prevailing ambience. What is striking is how convincing and sincere Abba sound here without seeming maudlin or excessively self-pitying. Their pop-craft, honed so much by then, helps them to achieve this. An intangible sense of what worked, and what didn't work, coupled with a facility for expressing emotion compactly and powerfully.

There are several outstanding candidates for the title of the song which most aptly sums up 'late period' Abba, and I think that 'One Of Us' qualifies better than most. The backing track, the lyrics and the poignant and emotive melody and singing, all communicate to me a feeling of an era drawing to a close. In a way, the atmosphere resembles that of Side 2 of the Beatles' Abbey Road album.

To round up the remaining numbers on the original nine-song release, 'Two For The Price Of One' is quite minor, but not without its quirky charm. 'Slipping Through My Fingers' is a fine ballad with apparently very personal lyrics, dealing with adult concerns. In a different context, this might have made a great Eurovision song. 'Like An Angel Passing Through My Room' is a suitably downbeat and vaguely enigmatic way to end the original album.

With or without the bonus tracks which padded out the re-issues of The Visitors, the record stands as a highly developed and substantial collection of musical statements. In some respects it might just be the strongest of their studio albums.

Nosferatu (1922 film)

 In keeping with my haphazard exploration of certain genres of cinema, I recently viewed Nosferatu: A Symphony Of Horror, the classic 1922 German silent horror film, directed by F W Murnau, and starring Max Schreck.

This film is essentially a 'Dracula' movie.  The main character's name was changed to Count Orlok (played by Schreck). This, and other alterations from the original tale of Dracula, were made in an attempt to avoid copyright complications.

Nosferatu bears many of the hallmarks of the German Expressionist school, although I find that the sets and 'backgrounds' are less overtly emblematic of the style than, for example, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.

It could be argued that exaggerated body language and facial expressions are present in most silent films, and they help to overcome the absence of spoken dialogue, and also heighten symbolism and the curiosity of the viewer. Emotion and meaning can be transmitted more deeply and acutely with the 'over the top' gestures and behaviour.  However, the impact of this acting 'style' seems even more pronounced when combined with some of the characteristics of German Expressionism, powerfully complementing the 'inanimate' features of the landscape or background.

This picture is almost one hundred years old, but its enduring resonance and draw underline the fact that film-making is about imagination, sensitivity and ideas, not cutting-edge technology or budget.  The limitations of the equipment possibly led people to dig deeper into their reserves. In addition, the relatively 'primitive' visuals and production values caused the viewers to delve into their own imaginations.

Acting-wise, Max Schreck naturally garners much of the attention in this film, and he is indeed captivating and scary, but another standout performance is that of Gustav von Wangenheim in the role of Thomas Hutter,

The outdoor settings are suitably bleak and forbidding, as are many of the sets and buildings, and the indoor locations, but again I would contend that the imagery is perhaps more subtle and less 'distorted' than some other movies from the same sub-genre. 

Good use is made of shadow, and not just in the very famous shots of Schreck ascending the staircase. It remains striking and humbling what film-makers were able to achieve in those days. And it was not just a case of innovation for the sake of innovation; such things were an integral part of the emotional narrative.

Nosferatu has an intangible power, which both absorbs and disturbs the viewer, and it is undeniably an astounding feat of cinema. A work of art as much as a film.

Last Train To Memphis - The Rise of Elvis Presley - Peter Guralnick

Last Train To Memphis - The Rise of Elvis Presley is the first part of Peter Guralnick's epic, and justly acclaimed, two-volume Elvis biography.  I know that when one is faced with a two-volume biography, about any subject, it is advisable to read the first volume before tackling the second. However, in this instance I tackled the process in 'reverse order', as it were. This situation arose because I have traditionally been more interested in the latter stages of Elvis's life and career than in the beginnings. Either way, I don't think that the order of my reading significantly affected my appreciation the merits of the works. I wrote a review of the second volume Careless Love in an earlier article on this blog.

First of all, it is a delight to read a biography composed by someone who is not only authoritative and enthusiastic about his subject, but who can also write engagingly and fluently. From the outset Guralnick immerses his readers in a sense of time and place. One senses his commitment to evoking the historical and social context of events, but he does not obscure the main narrative by forcing those matters unduly.

Ironically, some of the most affecting passages in the early chapters did not concern Elvis directly, but rather offered an atmospheric and detailed depiction of life in Tupelo and Memphis during the 30s and 40s. One of this book's strengths is the way in which the tale is gradually and credibly unfurled, so that the evolution of Elvis the person and the performer is a continuous and rolling tapestry, and not a series of 'contrivances'. 

There is a vivid and intriguing depiction of the times and the circumstances into which Elvis was born, and in which he grew up. These chapters are characterised by a lot of detail, and the story is told in a more or less chronological format. A reminder that even seemingly mundane matters can be of great interest when sensitively and adroitly addressed.

Guralnick creates endearing portraits of some of the colourful characters who inhabited the Memphis scene during Elvis's youth. The picture of Elvis which emerged for me was of a complex but very human figure who, although gifted and unusual, also possessed idiosyncrasies and insecurities like everyone else. No case is proffered for him being 'superhuman' in any way. 

When reading large parts of this book I detected a mood of cautious optimism and confidence, even among humble folk, in the post-war era, but again this is not overplayed, and there is always the risk of later generations romanticizing something which, to those who were actually there, was nothing out of the ordinary. The author's apparent circumspection in commenting on such matters helps to ensure the book's realism and integrity, in my view.

Learning how Elvis and those around him in those early days navigated their lives and passed through the 'necessary' stages of growth, I was left pondering how much more informal and seamless life's journey appeared to be back then. 

The attention given to examining the psyche of Elvis and his motivations and ethos, particularly from the time before he became famous, is a key ingredient in the quality and value of this biography. Some might view the author's observations on these topics as somewhat nebulous, but this might be because there are no simple answers to most things...

As regards the emergence of the 'youth culture', in which Elvis first immersed himself and then personally helped to intensify, this is documented not by outlandish philosophizing but largely by simple but persuasive prose. The excitement and 'novelty' of the early-to-mid 50s is conveyed without recourse to hyperbole or inflated claims of the period's significance.

One of the themes which struck me was that Elvis was no 'overnight sensation'. His impact is properly illustrated, but we are also reminded that this was a gradual ascent, punctuated by minor setbacks, mis-steps and false dawns. The 'transitional' stage, between the singer's becoming a local celebrity and attaining national stardom, is a fascinating phase, and Guralnick cleverly relates the tension and ferment.

The areas of the book which discuss the processes by which Elvis's management structure came about I found very enlightening, and it may surprise some people as to how Colonel Tom Parker came to be the undisputed boss.

For me the picture was augmented appreciably by the care taken to explore Elvis's musical influences, and the way in which he had direct contact with many prominent Memphis singers and musicians long before he made it big. I was also interested to discover that the author was very sincere and even-handed in assessing the genres and styles which actually constituted the Elvis sound.

I loved the accounts of the recording sessions, both at Sun and RCA. Very atmospheric, and peppered with rich and amusing anecdotes and nuggets of observation concerning Elvis's demeanour and manner, and the reactions which he inspired. 

Another surprising but revealing pattern which I discerned was how calm and resolute Elvis remained at some critical stages, whilst many of those around him were feeling fretful and apprehensive. It seems that he had a vision and a shrewdness which are not always credited to him.

In the chapters covering the time when Elvis had become an international phenomenon, my perception was that he still seemed to be regarded as a 'second class' star, when compared to movie actors and 'pop' singers. A hint, perhaps, that rock n roll was still looked down on, or viewed with suspicion?

Even as early as 1956, one can sense some of the things which came to characterize the decline of Elvis - difficulty in maintaining 'ordinary' relationships, the beginnings of estrangement from a normal existence, and so forth.

I enjoyed reading the insights into the strategic vision of Colonel Tom Parker and others, about how the Presley career was expected to pan out. People sometimes forget how short his first burst of stardom was, and things may already have been changing before he entered the Army. The hysteria which attended the concerts, whilst initially exciting and gratifying, could clearly become wearisome and unedifying.

Even at a relatively early stage, an entourage was starting to build up around Elvis, and the dynamics and comings-and-goings amongst that group form an interesting sub-plot, which would of course assume greater importance later in the star's life.

Towards the end of this book one can feel change closing in, and the mood is very adeptly captured by the author. The perfect scene is starting to unravel. It is also clear what a pivotal event the death of his mother was for Elvis. It also underlined that nothing was going to be the same again.

Last Train To Memphis is a gripping and illuminating read. Both this volume and its 'sequel' Careless Love are very much recommended.

Jackie Stewart - Winning Is Not Enough - The Autobiography

I have decided to revisit some books, in particular biographies, which had previously not made much of an impression on me. Perhaps the passing of time and a shift in my circumstances, and those of the world in general, might render them more interesting or impactful. I started with the autobiography of the former racing driver Jackie Stewart, entitled 'Winning Is Not Enough' - I read a paperback edition, published in 2009.

First of all I must make it clear that I have a lot of admiration for Stewart, for what he has achieved, and for how he has conducted his life. I wish that I had, in my own way, followed some of the principles which have paid dividends for him. At the same time, I have some mixed feelings about the merits of this autobiography.

The main reservation which I have is that certain areas of interest, such as his early life and the minutiae of his racing career, are not examined in sufficient detail, whereas other things are allotted what might appear undue space. I suppose that the reader's viewpoint will depend on how they approached the book.  Strictly as a 'racing driver biography' it does not quite come up to the mark, but I found that it compensated in other ways.

One other thing to bear in mind is that Stewart was only a 'professional' racing driver for just over a decade, so an autobiography necessarily covers a lot of other ground. Perhaps one day an eminent author will write an exhaustive, intricate and scholarly work devoted solely to his racing exploits.

His childhood struggles with dyslexia are outlined. It is instructive that once he found and identified something for which he had an aptitude, in this case clay pigeon shooting, new vistas were opened up, and his perceptions of himself and the world were altered. A reminder that we all have talents, and something to offer the world. Discovering these strengths, and then applying and channelling them positively and constructively, can make all the difference to us as individuals. This area of the book, along with Stewart's explanations of his modus operandi in life and work, were the themes which really stuck with me afterwards.

The book does not follow a strict linear, chronological pattern, but I did not find that a problem. There are lots of enlightening and amusing stories and anecdotes, although if I was being critical I would say that some of the passages are too 'wordy', and often use several words or phrases where just one would have sufficed. The prose is not particularly lyrical, but I guess this is a matter of personal taste or experience.

Another thing which emerges from the pages is how much Stewart valued simple virtues and guiding principles, and how well these have served him over the years; things such as integrity, simplicity and practicality. It is easy to lose sight of how important these things are in forming the bedrock of relationships or undertakings of all kinds. 

The question of 'name-dropping' is one which has been associated with this autobiography. Yes, there is quite a bit of it. Perhaps a bit of judicious pruning might have been advisable, but then again Stewart does mention many less famous, less celebrated figures who helped him and became lifelong friends of his. 

I actually quite enjoyed the descriptions of his associations with business and the media. This may not be a fashionable thing to say, but we can all learn something from people who have achieved great things. Try to do your best, to learn and improve, and to seek out opportunities which will be stimulating and empowering. We all have potential just waiting to be realized. We can also benefit from mixing and interacting with people from varying backgrounds, and absorbing some of their perspectives and values.

The chapters dealing with the formation of Stewart Grand Prix I found quite impressive, as they offer some insight into how much work goes into such a project, and how decisions are taken at high levels within organisations. The process does not always on hinge on formality or 'procedure'. 

Of course, considerable space is given over to Stewart's involvement in campaigns to improve safety in motor racing. One can only admire his persistence and his energy in pursuing such matters, and there are some moving and absorbing passages documenting the times when he lost friends in accidents.

Overall, this book I think provides a slightly more rounded portrayal of Jackie Stewart the man than sometimes might have been the general public perception. This book is not a masterpiece, it has its faults, but it also has, if read carefully and selectively, the capacity to inspire and to entertain. In a broader sense , for me it at least partially succeeded because it made me feel more optimistic and hopeful, for a short time anyway.

Hunky Dory - David Bowie

 During the period of lockdown which we were subject to in recent months, I occupied much of my time listening to music, and I acquainted myself with several albums which I had not previously explored in detail. One of these was David Bowie's 1971 release Hunky Dory.

I had long been an admirer of Bowie's work, but Hunky Dory had escaped my full attention. This was partly because the album had been cited as a favourite and a major influence by a few people, critics and broadcasters, whose judgement and taste I did not really trust or respect. However, examining the record in detail has been something of a revelation.

Whilst the "Ziggy Stardust" album leaves the listener open-mouthed and awed with its glitz and directness, Hunky Dory's appeal is rather different, with its mystique, and a seamless and fluent self-confidence which is truly remarkable and humbling.

Hunky Dory is striking for its maturity, as well as its lyrical sophistication. The subject matter and general ambience imbue the album with a vaguely enigmatic, "arthouse" sensibility, but equally and ironically these traits probably render it relatively inaccessible to some people. The production is clear and uncluttered, and the depth of melodic invention hold the attention and the interest.

Several of the songs on the record (Changes, Oh! You Pretty Things, and Life On Mars) are among the most recognisable and famous of Bowie numbers, but it is the remaining tracks which truly determine the record's tone and atmosphere. "Eight Line Poem" is a prime example; the piano sounds great, as it does throughout the album.

Some of the motifs and characteristics which were permitted full rein later are in evidence here, but they are employed more sparingly and less ostentatiously.

"Life On Mars" is hugely affecting, although its grandeur, and the arguably bombastic arrangement, might serve to obscure its genuine strengths and virtues.

There is much stylistic diversity on Hunky Dory, but it is clothed and masked slightly by garb which is peculiar both to Bowie and to this album - "Fill Your Heart" springs to mind. The poetic complexity is both adroit and convincing.

One of the highlights of the record for me is "Quicksand", a strident and dramatic composition which comes across as choate and sincere. It is given an effective arrangement, with some tasteful strings.

"Andy Warhol" and "Song For Bob Dylan" are both typical of the traits which suffuse the album. Again, Bowie ventures beyond the "obvious" and exhibits the grasp and the vision which separated him from his contemporaries.

"Queen Bitch" is both a nod to Bowie's influences of the time, and also a taste of what was to come shortly thereafter. Its relative directness and "decadence" add variety to the Hunky Dory diet. The closer, "The Bewlay Brothers" is stunning, and a highly appropriate way to round off the album.

Overall, the record exudes a zest and a cohesive ebullience which Bowie seldom matched elsewhere in his oeuvre. The arrangements, by and large, are appealing in their organic naturalness. The artist does not sound as though he is trying too hard to impress or dazzle people. The strength and originality of the material, and the ideas, are sufficient to carry the work.

If I was to choose a favourite David Bowie album, it would not be this one. It is less direct and outlandish than "Ziggy Stardust" or even Aladdin Sane, but it is brimming with creativity and inventiveness. It still sounds extraordinarily urgent and mature. A work of beauty, wonder and expressiveness.

The Mysterious Wall (1967 Soviet science fiction film)

Picking up where I left off in my exploration of Soviet science fiction movies, 'The Mysterious Wall' is a 1967 effort, directed by Irina Povolotskaya and Mikhail Sadkovich.

The story centres on the appearance and evolution of a 'wall' which has appeared, and which appears to possess a considerable electrostatic potency. The film explores the efforts to understand this phenomenon, the discussions between the scientists at the research station adjacent to the 'wall', and how they interpret the 'visions' and hallucinations which it appears to engender.

I really enjoyed the debates among the scientists concerning the wall's properties and its meaning and significance, with some seeing it as a message from extra-terrestrial beings, and others suggesting alternative explanations. 

As is generally the case when viewing Soviet science fiction, there is a temptation, understandable perhaps, to read some overt ideological or political meaning into every image, or every snippet of dialogue, and it is important not to allow this compulsion to hinder one's enjoyment of the films for their own sakes.

Having stated the above, it is intriguing to note that a film focusing on a 'wall' was made in the Eastern bloc during the 1960s. Presumably the powers-that-be thought that the movie's overall philosophical orientation outweighed the importance of any perceived critique of 'walls' as a concept.

More broadly 'The Mysterious Wall' appears to concern itself with questions of the possibility of there being intelligent extra-terrestrial life, and what the effects and implications of discovering such life would be. Also, I sensed that the the makers were posing questions about possible centralized attempts to control the scientific agenda and keep 'mavericks' under control, and about the attendant struggles between various factions within the system. 

One interesting question which appeared to me due to this picture was whether the Soviet authorities would have found the appearance of alien beings desirable, and how it would have fitted into their worldview, and their sense of their own primacy or supremacy.  

I liked the film, all in all, as it has a pleasingly organic flavour, and it is not marred by a compulsion to 'do special effects'. The plot and the atmosphere are enough.  There is an interesting insinuation, to begin with, that the scientists already 'in situ' at the research base adopt a 'space station mentality', evincing a separateness. I would have liked this element of the plot to be developed more fully.  The hallucination or 'dream' sequences are nicely done, and are arguably more polished than the rest of the film.

So, this is not a startlingly original film, and the subjects which it explores are by and large standard science fiction fare, but the dialogue comes across as sincere, rather than corny or patronising.

A well made and interesting science fiction movie.

Revisiting Agatha Christie's "The Murder of Roger Ackroyd'

Some time ago, after consulting various reviews and analyses, I read Agatha Christie's renowned novel 'The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd', and was left feeling slightly underwhelmed. It had been described as one of the greatest novels ever published in the crime-fiction genre, but it did not leave any great impression with me. At the same time I sensed that my understanding and appreciation of the book might be altered if I read it again when I was subject to a different mood or changed personal circumstances.

My literary inclinations, in fiction, tend towards philosophical novels and realism, with richness of characterisations, and plentiful socio-economic context embroidered around them. As alluded to in the previous paragraph, my attitude towards more 'far-fetched' stories, and those which appear less 'literary' than my usual choices, even those with some psychological complexity, seems to vary according to my state of mind and environment at the time of reading. 

As I rather suspected, when I recently revisited this novel, my antennae and my senses were more receptive than when I first journeyed through its pages. A stark picture of the human condition emerged on this occasion, the unpalatable spectre of those travails, traumas and temptations which few, if any, of us are spared. The 'sparsity' of the writing only accentuates this feeling, and imbues the story with a modern, 'out-of-time' immediacy. 

In 2020, the book has had a pointed and vivid effect on me, the realisation of the foibles of human behaviour being more oppressive and acute when one's own personal situation and horizons are undergoing a period of uncertainty. The world can seem an unfriendly and daunting place when the harsh realities of life jump from the page and find their mark. The format of a novel can sometimes bring home disagreeable truths more cogently and trenchantly than any amount of unfocused ruminating.

As has been observed my some people, 'The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd' makes its impact on more than one level. The 'resolution', and the unmasking of the culprit, startle us on the first reading, but its other dimensions emerge on subsequent visits, when the reader indulges in a touch of 'reverse engineering', and is animated by realisation of the truth about the narrator. Being in possession of additional understanding and perspective strengthens our grasp of, and curiosity about, the motivations and outlook of the participants in the story.

The relative lack of historical and contextual 'padding' helps to strip away some preconceptions, and brings into enhanced focus the central human tragedies of the case. The tautness and 'minimalism' of the text, with its dearth of detailed characterisations and settings, leaves the reader to draw his or her own conclusions concerning the social factors which informed events in a broader sense, if indeed such factors can be said to have weighed onerously here, and how far we can empathise with the people involved. It is perhaps the case that the absence of context, and the 'universality' of the forces apparently at work, lead us to feel that we could ourselves be afflicted by similar weaknesses and insecurities to the character who perpetrates terrible deeds.

One thing which is difficult to overlook is my ambivalence about the Hercule Poirot character. On the one hand, certain of his traits I find irritating, such as his occasionally mildly condescending attitude towards others. Equally, his observational skills and powers of logic and analysis are things which we should admire and aspire to. The make-up of his personality certainly gives this novel some additional bite, and Poirot is impossible to ignore.

So this novel's 'glories' loomed larger on this second occasion, and the legacy, the 'after-taste', so to speak, will I suspect linger longer. That said, I now have a yearning to once more immerse myself in realism and practicality!  I might equally reflect on the possibility that imagination and psychology are important after all.

In The Court of The Crimson King - King Crimson

Until recently, I had rather overlooked King Crimson's debut album, seeing it as a slightly flawed relic of that age when psychedelia was giving way, in stumbling and uncertain steps, to progressive rock. It had therefore become unfairly associated in my mind with a stage in the development of rock music which was characterised by untidiness and a lack of direction and focus.

Thankfully, following a re-appraisal of this work it has become one of my favourite albums of all time, and it is arguably one of the first genuinely credible prog-rock records. Far from being aimless and nebulous, it has a striking maturity and confidence at its very core.

The album's forceful and uncompromising opening track, '21st Century Schizoid Man', sets things up very effectively, though in truth it is not that typical of the work as a whole. It does exude the sense of creativity and melodic vibrancy which permeates the LP,  but it is more visceral and aggressive than most of the other material on show. The instrumental passages have a jazz-like flavour, and the pleasing separation between instruments is a feature of In The Court Of The Crimson King in general. This first number does sound and feel more futuristic than the rest of the album, because of its vaguely 'avant-garde' elements, and its edginess, and some of its traits possibly contribute to misleading impressions of the record in a wider sense.

By way of a switch of moods, 'I Talk To The Wind' is blissfully airy, almost ethereal, and a true delight, with the keyboards and woodwinds providing agreeable textures. Some subtle vocal harmonies also augment the pleasing and delicate recipe.

'Epitaph' is my personal highlight of the album, as it manages to encompass both the epic and the intimate. Again, the production is quite sparse in nature, with lots of room left for the instruments and vocals to 'breathe'.  A fine, expressive lead vocal by Greg Lake, too. The Mellotron on this track is relatively unobtrusive and sparingly employed, crucial in engendering its atmosphere, and in ensuring that it does not lapse into bombast. Indeed, two of the hallmarks of this record as a whole are the control and restraint, which are indicative of good taste on the part of all concerned.

Of the songs here, 'Moonchild' has perhaps the strongest and most appealing melodic foundation. Again, the playing is delicate, and although the 'closing section' I suspect divides opinion, it is not the sort of passage which one could condemn as self-indulgent or pretentious, but instead it highlights the group's breadth of talent, with some dreamy 'improvisation' by Robert Fripp and Co. I'm sure this part of the song made more sense in 1969 than it does today, but it does not grate with me at all, and it is ultimately harmless.

The 'title' track brings matters to a close in dramatic and impressive fashion, and this time the Mellotron is much more to the fore, creating a daunting backdrop, interspersed with notable flourishes from other instruments. The more rhythmic edge, and menacing tone, to this number carry slight echoes of the opening song, making them appropriate 'bookends' in that sense.  The 'light and shade' of the verses and choruses is highly affecting, and brings this track in line with the album as a whole, and the technical finesse of the players is once again exhibited to fine effect. Lyrically, parts of the track can be seen to serve as a pre-cursor to much of the prog genre which this record helped to launch, although Crimson were there first, pretty much.

In The Court Of The Crimson King is a compelling, compact and composed creation, and it still stands up much better than the bulk of the other albums which heralded the dawn of the progressive rock era. It exudes the musical and philosophical fecundity which would be a feature of the band's work up to the middle of the Seventies, and King Crimson's early music remains vital and potent after all these years.

Cromwell - Our Chief Of Men - Antonia Fraser

Oliver Cromwell has held a special fascination for me ever since my school days, when I undertook some studies and projects about the man. Later in life, as my philosophical, moral and political antennae grew more acute and even discerning, my feelings grew more mixed and sceptical, with the caveat that one must to an extent make allowances for the period when a person lived and acted.

It has been levelled that the biography, Cromwell: Our Chief Of Men,  by Antonia Fraser, leans too heavily in the direction of reverence and sympathy for Cromwell. I think it is true that the author's words indicate an admiration for her subject, but this is far from a hagiography.

The interpretation of events can occasionally seem pro-Cromwell, and his supposed virtues and strengths are proffered, but to my mind there is no real effort to conceal his mistakes or weaknesses, and little effort to downplay some of the less palatable episodes in his life and career.  In addition to opinions, the facts are outlined, and tend to speak for themselves.

One of the charms of reading a book about the seventeenth century is the quaintness of the language contained in the assorted quotations from sources. The actions and thoughts of men, and the mood of the period, is often illustrated in a poetic manner.

In our secular times it is often difficult to grasp the fervour with which people of those times warmed to their task, especially on matters spiritual.  I think that the author tries to interpret and filter such zeal into a worldly form for modern minds, but I must admit that the regular references to "providence" and similar concepts did become rather wearing before I got to the end of the book.

A considerable slice of my interest in the English Civil War and the Cromwellian period in general these days centres on the more radical political and religious voices which inhabited the landscape of England. Elements within the Army, and groups such as The Levellers, were pushing for greater economic democracy and social equality. Yes, these factions were not strong enough, and it is a moot point whether some of their manifesto has even been fully implemented as we speak in the 21st century. I was pleased to see Antonia Fraser regularly refer to these radical sections of opinion throughout her book.

I sensed that the author had fairly trenchant opinions concerning the legality (or otherwise) of the trial and execution of Charles I, and this I would say helps to counter the charges of pro-Cromwellian partiality. She also laments the way in which parts of the Irish campaigns were conducted, and bemoans the attitudes behind that conduct, seeming to question Cromwell's mentality.  The "rules of war" and "how things were done at the time" are invoked, and the author examines the forces within Cromwell which led to his actions. The impression one gets though is that the author feels disdain and sadness for this particular chapter in the Cromwell saga.

A theme within these pages which quite intrigued me was the theory that Cromwell was more effective and skilled as a military commander than as a politician, some of the qualities which served him well on the battlefield not necessarily translating into being useful in the world of political endeavour.

The constantly shifting structures and dynamics of power in the Commonwealth, and the timescales involved, could appear confusing, but these passages were highly instructive in assessing Cromwell's inner motivations and his strategic and tactical grasp.

Within the book there are some interesting reflections on how Cromwell's elevation, and the general course of events, affected cultural and social life in England.

When Cromwell's policies and beliefs are scrutinised closely, they do not strike the modern "enlightened" observer as being particularly progressive, and the emphasis placed on stability, order and security is a constant and recurring topic.  The temptation to laud the clamour for radical change is easy from an armchair, but it was not going to have to be introduced in a vacuum.

At regular intervals the author is at pains to cite examples or instances where Cromwell exhibited "clemency" or common humanity, intervening in the case of one individual or another.  This is all well and good, but should such behaviour and values have been the rules rather than the exceptions, being granted as a matter of course and basic rights?

It is worth noting that the author frequently seems to draw a distinction between Cromwell's own personal inclinations and interventions, and the more obdurate and unyielding forces of the laws and the executive bodies. This, together with the constant references to Cromwell's good deeds and "good works" were over-laboured almost to the point of becoming counter-productive, nearly seeming like "making excuses".

In fairness, the author does sometimes acknowledge that the Protector was often unable to force through general improvements and improved rights for everyone. This is a crucial point for me;general rights and liberties are important indicators, not discretionary favours to be awarded in isolated, selected situations. I can up to a point sympathise with Cromwell's pronouncements regarding security and order, when one considers the fevered and tumultuous nature of those years, but this should not totally absolve him from criticism.

One of the best written and most convincingly argued chapters is the one which examines Cromwell's deliberations when he was "offered" the kingship by Parliament. Some real insight is provided here on his worldview and his psyche, as well as the breadth of opinion which existed in England at that juncture.

Going back to the notion that Cromwell was a better soldier than a politician, I would contend that it is easier to measure and quantify his military successes and achievements, in terms of important battles won, clear strategic ascendancy attained, campaigns expedited. The political balance sheet is a more ambiguous and subjective beast, with tantalising glimpses of what could be, more a case of what his time signified or presaged than what ultimately got done.

The final chapter of this biography was impressive balanced and authoritative, and it helped, along with some of the other material in the closing third of the book, to make me slightly more receptive to the book's overall tenor.

I didn't agree with everything which was said in this work, but I still found it to be a rewarding and illuminating read.

Crime And Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Recently I finally got around to reading Fyodor Dostoyevsky's classic novel Crime And Punishment, and I was prompted to commit a few thoughts and reflections to blog form.

To summarise, the story centres on an impoverished former student, who carries out a murder, two murders in fact, imagining that the act would serve some "higher purpose". He is then forced to confront the consequences of his deeds, and to seek redemption.

One of the first things which hit me upon reading the novel was its stark, unflinching and often unsettling portrayal of the wretched social conditions which prevailed at that time, and not just in Russia, let us remember, with injustice everywhere. The struggles which many people endured against adverse economic straits and a cruel system are grippingly detailed. 

I loved the style of the language and the writing which the author used, describing almost every move and thought made by the lead character Raskolnikov in particular. One can almost feel like one is there, experiencing the same emotions, being assailed by the same dilemmas and decisions, and sensing the approach of dread and grim reality.

The one feature of Crime And Punishment which surprised me was how cleverly it was put together, and how the supporting and minor characters have considerable depth, inspiring curiosity and enhancing the richness of the tale. The characters overlap and interact in such a way as to make this novel highly cohesive and fluent in its structure. Another thing which struck me was what I perceived to be a relative absence of "philosophizing", especially in the first half of the book.

Further to my identification of the characterisations as a major strength of the novel, I would stress the importance of the attention to detail which the author employs, capturing the fluctuating moods of the participants and the nuanced unfolding of the narrative. A vivid "mind's eye" is engendered, whereby the reader can use the words on the page to paint his or her own pictures. This is how I personally prefer to approach and savour fiction; it is a rewarding means of extracting the most from literature, but it must also be pointed out that the raw material must be there in the first place for the aforementioned process to be genuinely stimulating and invigorating.

As I have intimated above, this work was not quite what I had anticipated, but I make this observation in a positive and complimentary sense. The interest is maintained throughout by the richness of the language, the plausibility of the characters and the moral pull of the subject matter being examined.

Maybe what I am about to say tells as much about me as it does about Dostoyevsky's powers of storytelling, but I found the strength of my social and political perspectives being challenged and roused by the questions which the author managed to pose and evoke through his depiction of the 19th century's inequities. The powerlessness and helplessness of the weak and the poor in the face of the strong, the powerful and the arrogant. At the same time I found myself recognising that things, in many respects, have changed for the better since those days, whilst being conscious of the strains and the flaws which afflict our modern world.

I don't think that the philosophical direction of this work is quite as clear-cut, as straightforward or as unambiguous as many reviews and analyses seem to pronounce. In any event, trying too hard to make clear sense of the story's "messages" and morals may spoil the reader's enjoyment and appreciation of its many other strengths.

I won't give too much away, for the benefit of those who haven't yet read it, but this is a truly affecting, thought-provoking and striking work, which I would recommend to anyone who enjoys challenging and absorbing literature.

One Of Your Own - The Life and Death of Myra Hindley - Carol Ann Lee

The Moors Murders case is one which remains embedded in the psyche of my country.  This biography of Myra Hindley, written by Carol Ann Lee is a very solid effort.

There is some very useful insight into Myra Hindley's early days, and how her outlook and temperament developed. Well-written and evocative of life back then, these passages give an illustration of the way in which a strong and unusual personality came about.

The author does not just draw "obvious" conclusions and assert that every feature of her upbringing, or major incident or event during it, can be directly and unambiguously linked to the later events and crimes, or cited to explain them. There is an appreciation that life is more complicated than that. Overall, the chronicling of the early lives of Hindley (and also Ian Brady) is unfurled in a seamless, measured but highly readable fashion.

I would say that this work has equipped me with a more rounded understanding of how Hindley and Brady gelled "philosophically", what motivated them, and how they became detached and alienated from the rest of society. These were perhaps the most enlightening sections of the book for me.

Another feature of One Of Your Own is the way that developments are placed in some kind of socio-cultural context, especially in relation to the changing, turbulent times of the 1950s and 1960s. The subject matter examined here is clearly disturbing, but I find its sociological and philosophical dimensions fascinating.

Lately it has occurred to me Brady and Hindley were symptomatic of the dark side either of the then nascent "Swinging Sixties", or more generally of post-war social upheavals. They may have represented a rebellion from the conformity and drabness of post-war life, but their rebellion was clearly destructive and nihilistic, unlike some of the more progressive and optimistic movements which flowered later in the decade.

The format of a full biography permits a fuller analysis and documentation, rather than a mere framework. Watching documentaries, and reading some articles, can make it appear like the crimes took place in some kind of vacuum.  Here a bigger, deeper picture is presented.

For me there was a slightly new perspective on the period from early 1965 onwards, and what plans the duo may have had for the future. The role of David Smith, Myra Hindley's brother-in-law, is explained and examined.

Graphic detail is not always presented when describing the murders, but the reader only needs to "read between the lines" to discern the terror and suffering which the victims were subjected to.

There is in-depth coverage of the police investigation, the searches and the interviews, with the "nuts and bolts" of how the horrors of the crimes came to light.  It is frustrating to hear about the infighting and discord between different police forces.

A large part of the book is given over to Myra Hindley's years in prison, especially the period from the time of sentencing to the mid-1980s, something of a "lost period" in my own knowledge of the case. Media coverage seemed to explode in the 1980s, with the new and dramatic developments which happened at that time.

As regards the "prison years", an intriguing sub-text for me was the change in some attitudes, and the emergence of more enlightened times with regard to how we address social issues and how we treat convicted criminals.

One lesson which emerged for me was how resourceful and tough Hindley was, probably more resilient and coherent than Brady. Quotations from letters and other correspondence give an idea of what she was like in the latter years of her incarceration. Some of Hindley's pronouncements and thoughts made me very angry, but it was also illuminating to read about them.

I was quite absorbed by the stories of the ebb and flow of Hindley's fortunes and morale, and her fluctuating relationships with her friends, relatives, associates and supporters. The thoughts of people who she came into contact with over the years give varying and interesting perspectives on her state of mind and her motives.

In conclusion, I think this is a very creditable examination of a difficult and horrific story.

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Barbara (2012 German film)

Recently, I finally managed to see the 2012 German film Barbara, after purchasing the DVD.

The film, directed by Christian Petzold, is set in the German Democratic Republic, circa 1980.  Barbara (played by Nina Hoss) is a physician, who formerly worked at a prestigious hospital in East Berlin, but she has been "banished" to a small clinic near the Baltic coast, apparently as punishment for having submitted an application to leave East Germany. Essentially the movie centres on Barbara's relationship with her colleague Andre, who has some secrets of his own, and on the activities of some people wishing to escape from the DDR.

The first things which was noticeable to me about this movie were its "autumnal" hues, characteristic of many films about East Germany. Apart from being easy on the eye, this property also helps to capture the supposed drabness of life in the DDR.

Another strand which runs throughout Barbara is a pervasive atmosphere of wariness and guardedness amongst the characters. People may have been conditioned to suspect the motives and intentions of others, expecting to be betrayed or placed under surveillance of some kind.

If a mood of mutual suspicion and distrust was indeed a feature of the East German system, then this is shrewdly and effectively conveyed in this picture. Tension is created and accentuated by a certain quietness, and an uneasy tranquility.

Much of the dialogue is sparse and clipped, as if nobody wants to say anything incriminating or susceptible to misinterpretation. The unease and circumspection are palpable. However, this is all done in such a way that the viewer senses that most citizens knew the score and the realities of the security apparatus, and that there was an unspoken assumption amongst people about the degree to which people's lives were infiltrated and manipulated.

The "provincial" setting makes a welcome change from the concrete canyons which often dominate movies about East Germany. We see some different facets of the country and the system. Many of the scenes in the countryside are accompanied by very breezy weather conditions, and this complements the subject matter quite well.

Nina Hoss gives a highly believable and sensitive performance as Barbara, and Ronald Zehrfeld is also excellent in the role of Andre Reiser, The plot unfolds subtly and gradually, not giving too much away, but it is beautifully realised, and the result is an understated but highly affecting story.

To sum up, Barbara is an absorbing, elegantly produced and at times moving film.

Fred and Rose - The Full Story of Fred and Rose West and the Gloucester House of Horrors - Howard Sounes

Fred and Rose - The Full Story of Fred and Rose West and the Gloucester House of Horrors, by Howard Sounes, is a highly readable and reasonably comprehensive account of one of the most infamous criminal cases in British history.

I had watched numerous television documentaries about the case, but sensed that something was missing, and that only when I had read a credible and full written document would my understanding be properly augmented. This work by Howard Sounes fulfilled that function quite admirably.

There is lots of good and illustrative background on Fred West's early life in Herefordshire, and indeed much illuminating material concerning the early life of both Fred and Rose, their living conditions, and their family scenarios. The author I feel plays down to an extent some of the more speculative and outlandish aspects of the story which are routinely told even in the mainstream media.

As this is a coherent and carefully sequenced account, it is easier to understand and ruminate on how the constituent parts of the story developed, and how the dynamics between the two main participants came to bring disaster. The gaps which are left in documentaries are necessarily filled in here, and they reveal a clearer and fuller picture.

The story becomes gradually more lurid and graphic as it goes on, and mini-biographies of the victims and their families make it more real, as they underline just what was lost and just what was endured and suffered, and how many lives were affected forever by these terrible events.

I was enlightened by the passages and anecdotes which deal with the time spent on remand by Frederick and Rosemary West, how they coped with that period, and how their attitudes to each other altered. The same portions of the book also examine the impact of the investigation and ongoing revelations on the families of the couple.

The trial of Rosemary West is covered in some detail, and this helps to provide a more rounded and complete flavour to this telling of the story. People from the past, who had been mentioned in the earlier pages, now resurfaced. The full complexity and magnitude of the case, and the logistics and organisation of the investigation and the trial, are also brought across to the reader.

At various stages of the book, Sounes devotes attention to what might be termed "peripheral" characters, but these individuals and their experiences add greater depth and context to the narrative.

As the format of a book such as this allows the basic framework of the story to be filled out considerably, and for nuance to be introduced, I began to see several of the main characters in the drama in a new light, because of revelations detailed here. This all reinforces my view that books are the most telling, reliable and representative form of learning and education. Television documentaries should only really be viewed as a "catalyst" to stimulate additional research and exploration of any given subject.

The closing sections of the book offer some interesting analysis of the reasons why the tragic events evolved as they did.

In my opinion this is a fine book, which tells the horrific story in quite a measured way, although in places there is little escaping the disturbing nature of the subject matter.