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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