Monday, 18 July 2022

Visions Of The Future, from 1960s Television

 I recently watched some episodes of the television series created by Gerry Anderson and his colleagues. These programmes were Thunderbirds, Captain Scarlet and The Mysterons, and Joe 90.

Back in the day Anderson and his team were lauded for their vision of a future which seemed optimistic and quite progressive, envisaging a prosperous, technologically advanced and comparatively harmonious world. Just how accurate and perceptive were these "predictions" and imaginings, and how desirable would those outcomes really be?

The above mentioned programmes were all set in "the future", in the case of Joe 90 roughly our own epoch (the 2010s), and the other two were apparently meant to have taken place in the 2050s or 2060s.

It is clear to me that the shows in question were produced against the backdrop of 1960s optimism and idealism and, some might say, naivete. It could be that the visions contained in the episodes represented a mixture of what the makers anticipated would transpire, and what they hoped for.

In broad terms, the programmes seem to envisage some form of "federal" global structure, with world government agencies and functions, and much emphasis on international co-operation. The main threats are perceived to emanate from rogue (smaller?) nations, potent criminal elements and corrupt business interests. It is curious to think in those terms, as I type this in the Summer of 2022....

The expectation appears to be that large corporations will still exist, and that they will wield considerable power and influence. My interpretation, for what it is worth, is that Anderson and Co. were predicting that, on balance, corporations would be a benevolent force, fulfilling a "progressive" role in society. The current evidence would suggest that the reality will be more mixed and ambiguous, to say the least. 

To me it is noteworthy that environmental and ecological issues are touched on relatively infrequently by these 1960s creations. Nuclear power and fossil fuels are shown as still being quite pervasive, although there is some mention of innovations in the fields of renewable and alternative energy sources. 

As we now know, the importance of green considerations will likely precipitate changes in social and economic conditions far beyond what these creative people from the Sixties expected. This might be explained in part by the fact that the ecology movement was comparatively under-developed and basic in the 1960s, and did not really gather momentum until the decade which followed. In one Thunderbirds episode, scientists are seen trying to discover new ways of boosting livestock and the world's supply of meat!  Clearly knowledge of such topics, and their impact on the planet, was quite unsophisticated, even limited, back then.

When the series in question are discussed, it is often stated that they imagined a "utopian" future. However, looking critically at the economic and social structures which were portrayed, genuinely profound change is not evident. Rather than being "utopian", I see their outlook as progressive-liberal, and certainly not radical in terms of the way that life was expected to develop or evolve.

The attitudes exuded by the characters and people in the stories do not signal any major shift in attitudes, values or beliefs, no big "Enlightenment 2.0". Selfishness, greed and ignorance are still shown as existing, but the Anderson view of human nature seems to be optimistic. The link between socio-economic changes and shifting attitudes may be instructive, in that the extent of the former could be dependent on the magnitude of the latter. Little suggestion, of course, that man-made laws might corrupt people or instil harmful habits or ideas.

I must say that I rather like the future architectural and design trends postulated in these productions. They are in accord with my own "modernist" tastes and inclinations. Maybe these patterns were conceived in the light of things which were around in the 1960s, but which were seen then as futuristic and cutting-edge?

The issue of social stratification, and the class system, is one area of these Anderson programmes which seemed to conflict mildly with other anticipated societal developments. The programmes appear to depict, certainly in Britain and even elsewhere, a society where class distinctions are still very much entrenched and palpable.

One area of the thought-world of those productions, especially Thunderbirds, which intrigues me is the "military" involvement and influence in "civilian" affairs and sectors. People of a military bearing, and sporting military-type uniforms, are seen fulfilling functions which these days we would hope and expect to be carried out by more technically-orientated people. 

It seems that the producers saw the future as being an arena of technological progress, but not necessarily as a prodigious driver of social transformation or deep-rooted human emancipation; just making life "easier", but just as hectic and bewildering. In other words, alienation and social exclusion would remain as ills, insidious trends inhibiting change in some areas.

The balance of economic relations and power, and the centralization of power, would likely remain unchanged. Progress? That depends upon how you define and quantify "progress". There has to be at least a gesture towards something more meaningful and far-reaching.

Gerry Anderson's world of the future may indeed be the one which comes to pass, given the current balance of forces, prevailing "wisdom" and policies. We should bear in mind, though, that we as citizens of the world have it within our power to change this state of affairs, at least in theory. Personally, I hope that at least pointers to something more radical are evident by the forthcoming decades in question. 

One area where the 1960s creators underestimated the likely scale of development was in the areas of "information technology" and communications. There is little suggestion (to my eyes and ears) of anything resembling what became the internet, although they did admittedly foresee some other leaps and advances.

Despite nurturing a hopeful verdict on human nature, some of the "villains" and antagonists in Anderson programmes appear to presage that egomania and megalomania would continue to pose problems and present obstacles for genuine progress and tranquility, and lead to some grief and suffering for "mere mortals". This is in addition to pride, intransigence, arrogance and narrow-mindedness. Sadly, they were probably right in expecting this to be the case. Changes in attitudes would be needed to militate against this, and such changes could be accelerated by reforms to socio-economic systems.

Above all, I think that the only partial accuracy of the predictions amply demonstrates just how quickly and profoundly our world can change in short stretches of time, thus confounding the experts and the futurologists. No doubt if I am around to write a similar article to this in 2050, I will have to revise several of my judgments on the forecasts of the makers of those television shows.


 




Saturday, 11 June 2022

Formula 1 Fanatic - Koen Vergeer

Maintaining the momentum of my recent reading adventures, that is seeking some perspective and meaning from my library of motor sport-related books, I turned to a title which had hitherto escaped my serious attention; Formula 1 Fanatic, by Koen Vergeer.

Originally published in Dutch, and first seeing the light of day around 2003/2004, this is essentially one person's account and appraisal of his interest in, or obsession with, the sport of Formula 1 racing, going back as far as the early 1970s.


Some of the early chapters genuinely struck a chord with me, bringing strongly to mind my own burgeoning immersion in the same world, although my journey commenced approximately a decade after Vergeer's.  There is a temptation for me to feel embarrassed or defensive about the nature of my early "fandom", and the naivete which was at the heart of it, but this is tempered when we appreciate that we all go through such phases at that stage of our lives. Let's face it, such diversions are probably more healthy and harmless than much of what we will engage in later in life.

I found the author's opinions and interpretations on some matters refreshingly different and well argued, especially his thoughts on some of the historical personalities and events of the F1 world. His opinions on people such as Nelson Piquet are very interesting. It is nice to get a fresh view, detached from the stereotypical portrayals which become so prevalent and self-perpetuating.

The version which I have read is the English one, and it may be that the translation from the Dutch accounts for some quirks in the language and words used, but this does not detract from the central mission; nor do the occasional factual inaccuracies.

Working my way through Formula 1 Fanatic, it was difficult to ascertain a particular ethos or mode of thinking as regards racing. Beyond the usual mild idealism, for me a certain ambiguity emerges, and it could be convincingly argued that this is a good trait to have for a Formula 1 devotee.

The anecdotes concerning the writer's experiences in following racing are strong and quite evocative, and they come over as sincere. Importantly, they do not become excessively sentimental, and they are instrumental in building the picture. These passages help to lift the book above the mundane, and to make it a genuinely stimulating and valuable "memoir".

In my estimation, the book really comes into its own with the series of chapters which examines the careers, strengths, weaknesses and vagaries of the leading drivers of Vergeer's era. The author demonstrates a keen sense of nuance in looking beyond mass-media platitudes, whether it be analysing Ayrton Senna's beliefs or the psyche of Damon Hill. Vergeer comes close to laying bare the very essence of Formula 1. These are frank and in-depth appraisals, and they are a pleasure to read.

In amongst all this material, I was made keenly aware that Formula 1 has somehow, since the early 2000s, become too "ordinary", too anodyne. It has lost sight of its mission, and its raison d'etre has become distorted and diluted. When certain things happened, for example some of the Prost/Senna confrontations, I was repelled, but after having relived the salient points in this book, I was reminded at what a stratospheric level - sporting, psychological and human - that drama was played out. Despite what today's hyperbole and PR spin might attempt to convince us, there will never be anything to compare with Prost versus Senna. It was not really manufactured or contrived, more a case of inevitability.

There is a sharpness and an acuity in the author's outlook and observations, and his weighing of factors, which truly impressed me. The "philosophical" sections are relatively brief, but thought-provoking, and perhaps even more relevant in 2022, almost two decades after the original publication of Formula 1 Fanatic. Questions about the sport's relevance and "soul" are more pressing and pertinent than ever before.

I was gratified to see that the Schumacher-Hakkinen epoch of the late 90s and early 2000s is given due prominence and attention. As the author hints at, this was the sport distilled down to its core - pure unalloyed F1, in which all of the elements which make (made?) the sport unique were tested. Perhaps the last era of its type which we will ever see, save for flickerings such as Suzuka 2005. Vergeer covers the 1998-2001 years in some detail, and with some style and shrewdness.

Increasingly I sensed that the author and myself were on something approximating to the same wavelength. I could identify with many of his sentiments about accidents, about having to defend and explain this passion with outsiders and "non-believers", as it were. There is also the ambivalence which regularly rises to the surface, almost a form of shame, and that "addictive" quality. Many readers will I am sure find themselves in accord with the writer's feelings and emotions.

Rightly or wrongly, I detected another characteristic; a tacit acceptance that some unpalatable things cannot interfere with "the show" and that, despite occasional protestations and periods of disaffection, the compulsion to watch or follow still remained. 

As mentioned above, the manner in which the author relates pivotal Formula 1 moments to his own personal experiences and memories gives his writing an additional dimension. His life has grown and changed with the sport, along with some striving to retain some of the innocence and simplicity of those earlier days.

This is an astute and well thought-out book, quite absorbing . Putting aside (very) minor reservations, this is a rewarding read. Much more authoritative and credible than supposedly more "cerebral" motorsport "literature". 

Taking a broader view, this book furnished me with an enhanced feeling of how confident, vibrant and assured the world seemed in the late 1990s and early 2000s. If only they, and we, had known that stormy waters (and storm clouds) loomed ahead, in the form of economic crises and other traumas, and what appeared to be a general loss of nerve. At the same time, when I reflect on my own navigation of those "good" times, it may have been too good to be true. Short-termism, a blindness to certain fundamentals, and a failure to address pressing issues. The last decade or so may well have served as a form of reckoning.







Monday, 30 May 2022

Inside The Mind of The Grand Prix Driver - Christopher Hilton

Following my reading of the book Deadly Obsessions, I threw myself into another motor-racing-related work, Inside The Mind of The Grand Prix Driver, written by the late Christopher Hilton (the edition I read dates from 2003). The latter book covered similar ground to Deadly Obsessions, but felt more substantial and absorbing in some respects.

I am not really sure to what extent the book truly gets "inside the mind" of the driver, but I found this to be quite an engaging and illuminating look at the world inhabited by racing pilots, tending to belie some of the assessments which I have seen elsewhere. The interviews with drivers are very revealing, and often entertaining.

There are some valuable nuggets of information about the career paths of certain drivers, and we see how precarious and stressful the driver's existence is, with constant anxiety about job security and one's status within team and sport.  It is true to say that the pressures and the intensity rise with each passing year, but it sounds as though the situation was pretty fraught and demanding even in the early 1980s!

The recollections of various Grand Prix competitors really do bring home the notion of the "survival of the fittest" being one of the main guiding principles of the F1 firmament. To many this might seem like an indictment of the sport, a recognition that one must be ruthless and grasping in order to not just succeed, but merely survive. On the other hand, I was quite inspired by being immersed in this rarefied atmosphere, where the mental and psychological faculties and capabilities are stretched to the limits.

Some of the drivers do come across as deluded in their assessments of their abilities, achievements and relative worth, but these traits have to be placed in the context of the necessity to survive, the nature of the beast. Outsiders, real outsiders, would have difficulty comprehending and appreciating all these things. Anything that helps them cope....

In one or two cases I was left wondering whether the drivers' pronouncements constituted posturing and bravado, a front which enabled them to navigate choppy and hostile waters. I suspect that many "lesser lights" have to put on an act, whereas the true greats can more or less take certain attributes for granted, without having to constantly broadcast their prevalence or importance.

It is pointed out in the book that after they retire from racing some drivers mellow, realise that they no longer require "extreme" attitudes or motivations. Others may have been "contaminated" more profoundly by their experiences and remain in "F1 mode" long after they hang up their helmets.

One of the tests of a book for me is the degree to which it instilled in me an enhanced knowledge and understanding of a subject at hand. This work, on balance, does pass that test. The contributions of Jonathan Palmer, Julian Bailey, Perry McCarthy, Martin Donnelly and Allan McNish I found especially instructive, for differing reasons.

To return to the theme which I sought to develop in my article about Deadly Obsessions, did I learn anything from the Hilton book about how the world has changed in the past two decades? Not really, as this is a drier and less emotive exploration of the F1 community.




Wednesday, 11 May 2022

Deadly Obsessions - Life and Death in Formula One - Phil Shirley

Upon reviewing my bookshelves in the Spring of 2022, it has come to my attention that many of the books which reside on said shelves are of a similar vintage. Most of them were purchased or received over ten years ago, and I am left wondering how "dated" some of them have become, and to what degree their philosophical orientation, apparently to my approval back then, remains so today.

I decided to treat one book as a "test bed" for my theories. Picked almost at random, my gaze alighted on Deadly Obsessions - Life and Death in Formula One, by Phil Shirley. This work, which was originally published around the year 2000, is essentially an exploration of racing drivers' attitudes towards their chosen profession. Whilst the book was not exactly a masterwork, it did serve my purposes. I think the world started to change when I was not looking, or at least when I was not paying sufficient attention.

The odd factual error, and the occasional inconsistency, did ever so slightly mar my enjoyment of Deadly Obsessions. That said, there is some valuable and intriguing material in the book, although I gained the impression that the author embellished certain episodes in order to replenish his supplies of case studies. 

How convenient also that some of these drivers apparently encountered "premonitions", and contemplated withdrawing from the events in which they would perish or be injured. The talk of premonitions and such-like should be treated with a drum of salt.

The thought occurred to me that this type of analysis of motor racing and its participants is out of kilter with todays sanitized, digital, video-game-like incarnation of the sport. In 1999, some semblance of the visceral and gladiatorial pursuit of yore remained, or at least was detectable in recent memory.

To return to my original premise, what piqued my antennae when shuffling through the pages of Deadly Obsessions was just how noticeably the world has altered in some respects, by way of tone, outlook and "narrative", in the space of two-and-a-bit decades. The roots of some of these shifts were admittedly already present in 1999/2000, if one was smart or perceptive enough to know where to look.

Talk of "masculinity" and "male identity" would clearly, ahem, raise eyebrows if employed nowadays. I do think, however, that examining and discussing such topics is still valid, if one embraces a more inclusive mindset overall.

In more general, "moral" terms, I sense that the mentalities and attitudes, or at least some of them, on display in the book, would be eschewed even by todays Formula 1 competitors, against the backdrop of a more sentimental, hyper-sensitive age. The views on "life and death", safety and risk have changed, if perhaps not as radically as some might imagine, The opinions of Jacques Villeneuve, for example, on such matters would be even more vigorously debated and scrutinized now than they were around the turn of the millennium.

One thing which I liked about the book was its use of short, snappy and digestible chapters. The book was also instructive, in that it illustrated a certain demarcation in philosophies and approaches between drivers. These separations might well have been mirrored in "real life". There were (and are) the rationalists, the romantics, the pragmatists and so forth.

This was not too bad a read, although I think my appraisal of its literary merits have to be viewed in the the context of how my horizons in this area have broadened since 2010. Reading classical and modernist literature, and studying the work of the great philosophers, can render other types of reading matter rather mediocre and shallow by comparison.

I may well continue this new "project" of mine; reading books which were published before the social media era. It will, I think, sharpen my appreciation, and understanding of, recent social and cultural history. One observation which did make its claims on me was how confident and assured the world seemed in 1999/2000. Today's uncertainties and regressions only throw this assessment into sharper focus.

Thursday, 17 March 2022

Berkmann's Pop Miscellany - Marcus Berkmann

As part of some festival which occurred in late December 2021, I received a gift in the form of this book, Berkmann's Pop Miscellany, by Marcus Berkmann.  It struck me at the time as the type of book which was a quintessential gift given at the time of the aforementioned festival. Consequently, I did not get around to reading it until recently.

The bulk of this tome is made up of "pen portraits", of varying lengths, of assorted luminaries from the world of music. These are broken up with other content, most of which relates to songs and albums which the author considers to be noteworthy in some way.

I found the author's quirky and impish humour to be endearing at first. In his views on music and musicians he does not seek to conform with trends and what is perceived to be cool. He makes it clear what kinds of music he is drawn to, and whilst I consider myself to have possibly the most eclectic musical tastes in the known universe, his arguments are bright and persuasive.

Although I did not agree with all of Berkmann's opinions, and did not concur with all of his reasoning, the anecdotes and stories were invariably entertaining and often very funny.  He is not trying to appear as a contrarian, but rather comes across as honest, unpretentious and sincere in his inclinations. This is actually quite refreshing when I think of much of the music-related literature which I have been exposed to down the years. 

The paragraphs contain lots of amusing tales of music-industry chaos, and in places these elaborated or expanded usefully on already well-known stories. All of this is delivered in a breezy and digestible style. 

If I was to venture one criticism it would be that, as the book progresses, it becomes a touch "formulaic", and relies too much on the same styles of jokes and humour. It even threatens to become slightly smug. Then again, I don't think this was intended to be a major work of scholarship, or to be taken too seriously.

In spite of the minor criticism outlined above, I found this to be quite an enjoyable book.


Sunday, 16 January 2022

The Second World War - A Complete History - Martin Gilbert

 I recently finished reading Martin Gilbert's The Second World War - A Complete History. One volume chronicles of such a monumental subject cannot realistically hope to be comprehensive, or cover all the bases, but this particular work offers an absorbing and deeply impressive perspective on the conflict.

The 'format' I found surprisingly effective and workable. The war is documented in a chronological pattern, sometimes meaning that chapters alternately cover developments across the different theatres (Europe, Pacific etc.).  This could have rendered the story confusing and messy, but it turns out to be affecting and relatively efficient. Coverage of grand strategy and the pronouncements of leaders is mixed with quotations and anecdotes from 'on the ground' and from those whose were directly involved and personally impacted; eyewitnesses to horror and heroism.

There is a particular focus on the terror inflicted on Europe's Jews, as well as the activities of partisans and spies, and the effects of strategic bombing.  These emphases serve to convey the cruelty and futility of war, and the way in which it devastates the weak and the defenceless.

I found the text to be quite matter-of-fact, rather letting the facts and the quotations speak for themselves. The author does not dwell unduly on major military episodes or technological developments. I was also glad of the relatively short duration of the chapters, making the enterprise digestible and easy to follow.

Another feature which I found sensible was the tendency to continuously cite quotations from the same people and sources. This ensures consistency, enabling the reader to gauge and assess the changing moods and perspectives of those participants.

I was profoundly intrigued by the passages which dealt with the evolving relationship between the Western Allies and the Soviet Union. It seemed that in the earlier days there was a mixture of solidarity and mutual suspicion, with the Western powers sensitive to how their delays in opening a meaningful 'second front' would be received in Moscow. Of course towards the book's conclusion the thorny subject of the prospective post-war landscape looms larger and larger, especially the question of Poland.

As I moved deeper into this book, I gained the impression that it was not really an attempt to deliver an exhaustive, all-encompassing account of the war, but more a striving to give people a strong flavour of the true nature of that cataclysmic period in global history. In this sense Gilbert succeeded admirably. It does not just highlight the injustice and senselessness of war, but in addition it illustrates the political and social factors which promote armed conflict and what measures may be taken to reduce the likelihood of such catastrophes occurring.

Some people might complain that the book offers an 'establishment' Anglo-centric viewpoint, and even in places underestimates the role of the USSR in the war, but ultimately it is a powerful and gripping read, which will give any reasonable person ample food for thought and reflection.








Sunday, 19 December 2021

Transformer - Lou Reed

For reasons which are difficult to fathom accurately, I had until relatively recently steered clear from examining in detail the solo career of Lou Reed. Maybe I thought that the subject matter of the songs would not be to my taste. 

Anyway, having opened my eyes (and ears) to other so-called alternative quarters of the musical universe, Transformer and other Reed solo LPs entered my consciousness. I am resoundingly glad that I felt ready to make that leap.



On first impressions, Transformer felt more meaty and guitar-heavy than The Velvet Underground. However, as has become customary for music people to emphasize, Lou Reed is primarily a tunesmith. These songs have an infectious and invigorating quality about them. Some of the energy and accessibility of the album may be attributed to the involvement in the project of David Bowie and Mick Ronson, as producers and musicians, The tunes are compact and tastefully captured. It may well be true that the material lacks the provocative and "subversive" flavour of the Velvets' greatest output. However, the tracks here are generally likeable and catchy - 'Vicious', 'Andy's Chest' and 'Hangin' Round', for instance.  They have also hidden depths and fascinations.

'Perfect Day' was hitherto a song which I rather loathed, considering it vacuous and overblown, but it now inspires my admiration and affection. I "get" the sentiments now, probably because I am older (or wiser?). 'Walk On The Wild Side' has undergone a similar transformation (pardon the pun) in my estimations, but for different reasons. I had tended to regard it as a novelty song, almost. The other famous number on the record, 'Satellite Of Love', has an elusively absorbing quality, in keeping with much of what surrounds it.

If Transformer ever appears in danger of growing too cosy or bland, then Mick Ronson's incisive and adroit guitar contributions serve to lift it. I also detected, vaguely, the influence of Bowie's Hunky Dory period here and there. All these elements assist in ensuring that the record retains its validity as an artistic endeavour worthy of exploration and respect.

A word too for 'Goodnight Ladies', a whimsical offering which has a strong 1920s Berlin ambience, and which adds welcome variety and humour.  A great and vibrant way to close. 

As for Reed's reputation as one of the godfathers of punk, it may be more visible and discernible on other records, but certainly the short and simple arrangements and riffs must have struck a chord with some aspiring musicians. 

So, not as challenging as other works involving Lou Reed, but a tight and coherent set of entertaining and sometimes intriguing pieces, competently produced and performed. It has been widely influential, and it still sounds urgent and energetic. The type of album which demands attention, and which draws the listener back repeatedly, despite its minor shortcomings.