First of all, I don’t think I’ve ever thanked any of you for subscribing to this newsletter. It means a lot to me that people take the time to read this stuff, given all the other things they could be doing. So, sincerely, thank you.
We’re in the fifth or sixth week of lockdown here in Sydney and it’s all fairly bleak. To mangle Alan Partridge, the more I learn about this coronavirus, the less I like it. I am lucky to have a wonderful, generous partner and a boy who is only a goblin 20% of the time (last night’s freak out was because I refused to “warm up his ice”) and so I’m in a better position than most. Still, as most of you will know, it’s hard. I’ve been taking this time to read a lot, to watch some stuff, and do a little writing too. I thought I might share some of the things I’ve been really enjoying. Maybe you’ll enjoy them too.
READING
Hyperion — Dan Simmons
This was pitched to me by J.R Hennessy as “sort of like a space opera with a Canterbury Tales format” and as I result I very nearly didn’t read it. A pitch with a real Martin Prince air about it, J.R. He’s broadly correct, though. Seven pilgrims going to meet the God of Pain tell each other their stories. As short stories they’re brilliant sci-fi. Ideas-based stuff like Ted Chiang mixed in with some big Asimovy fall of empire business. Really recommend. The Scholar’s Tale is something that I’m not sure I’m glad I read, it’s got a horrifying premise that really burrows into the ole brain, but it’s just flawlessly executed.
A Swim In A Pond In The Rain — George Saunders
George Saunders writes seven essays on seven short stories from Chekhov, Tolstoy, Gogol and Turgenev. This book does a lot of really great things at the same time. On the one hand it’s a very handy guide on writing by one of the best short story authors to ever live, writing about some of the best short story authors to ever die. It’s also just a great way of aquatinting yourself with these sad Russian gentlemen and how they went about making sense of the world. Because it’s Saunders, the essays are touching, funny, human and incisive in ways that should make a writer want to walk into traffic, but somehow they’re also incredibly inspiring. One of the best things I’ve read in years.
The Constant Gardner - John le Carre
I put off reading this for ages because I’d seen the film, but it turns out all I can really remember from the movie is Danny Huston being viscerally slimy, which can really describe Huston in any movie. There are two things that I think get under-appreciated about le Carre, especially late le Carre. One of them is how funny and biting he is. He wrote gormless squirmers better than anyone out, and did so with a kind of joyous viciousness. The other is just how angry he was by the early 2000s. Le Carre spent his life writing about the banality of evil, and as he got older, he only got madder and madder about it. It’s refreshing to read a novel where you can feel the author’s very real, unfeigned fury on every page.
You Will Be Able To Draw At The End Of This Book - Jake Spicer
Teaching myself to draw has been the best lockdown decision I’ve made. I am, to be very clear, absolutely dogshit at it, but there is something just incredibly calming and meditative about sitting down with a pencil and a notebook and really looking at something and trying to render it on the page. There’s also something I’d recommend about learning to do something in your 30s that you suck at.
Spicer’s book is a lovely, simple guide for beginners. As an object it’s a nice bulky thing with a rubber band keeping the cover closed and sweet, thick pages to do your drafting on.
LISTENING TO
Bruised Orange — John Prine
Prine died of COVID in April of last year, and maybe for that reason, I’ve been listening to him a lot. His self titled debut album is absolutely freakish for the amount of gold on it, but I’ve been enjoying Bruised Orange a lot lately. I think it’s the album where Prine’s completely unique, goofy humanity shines through the strongest. It also has the track with my favourite Prine lyric.
From Fish and Whistle:
Father forgive us
For what we must do
You forgive us, we’ll forgive you
We’ll forgive each other
Till we both turn blue
And we’ll whistle and go fishing
In heaven.
Chess — Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus
Back in the 80s, the two guys from ABBA wrote a cold war musical (very) loosely based on Bobby Fischer. You’ve probably heard of it, or if you haven’t, you’ve heard One Night In Bangkok. That’s what that’s from. The two tracks I put on fairly regularly are Anthem for it’s absolute hog-wild musical power ballad energy and Embassy Lament because it’s a funny patter song with great rhymes. Including:
Have you an appointment
With the consul?
If you don't we know what his response'll (be)
Enjambment. Makes me clap like an idiot seal every time.
WATCHING
I Think You Should Leave, Season Two — Tim Robinson
You either like this show or you don’t, and there’s nothing I can say that’ll make it work for you if it doesn’t. I laughed the hardest I’ve laughed in months while watching this short, six part series. It’s stupid beyond belief but there’s also a genuine humanity that runs through it that is hard to miss. It may just be lockdown-brain but I found my self sincerely moved by it multiple times, more times than felt fair for a show with someone shouting “horse jizz” in it as much as this one.
30 Rock — Tina Fey
No show has a right to be this funny, this constantly. Some of it hasn’t aged spectacularly, but it’s sheer gag rate is yet to be surpassed by anything that’s come since. It’s actually a technical marvel that they can cram that much joke into so small a space and still have something so light on its feet.
PLAYING
Slay The Spire — Mega Crit
Possibly the perfect lockdown game. A rogue-like deck builder that you can waste literally hundreds of hours on without ever getting sick of it. I own it on no fewer than three platforms, something I am not proud of.
WORKING ON
I’ve managed to write a few things in lockdown. Last week I wrote this for The Guardian about the train podcast my son likes to listen to. I also wrote an essay about what this feeling is, but you probably already knew that, if you’re getting this newsletter.
At work, me and the rest of The Feed comedy team put out our first comedy half hour. I’d love you to check it out, because I think it’s great work from a tiny team.
I’m also nearly done on the first draft of a play, which is something, a bit like the drawing, that’s been a really interesting and meditative thing to work on during this bad time. It’s about the end of the world.
Stay safe and treat each other nice.
Ben