Film - The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

When I watched the first Hunger Games movie, although I enjoyed it, my enjoyment was marred by having just reread the book, and knowing exactly what was going to happen and in what order. This time, I resisted temptation and went into Catching Fire with a knowledge of the book, but with enough distance between me and the book that I was able to watch the film as its own thing. Coming back into the world of Panem without having prepared myself, I was expecting to feel a certain level of detachment from the story, but I was surprised to find myself crying very early on, when Katniss and Peeta visited District 11 on their Victory Tour.

I wasn't quite convinced by Donald Sutherland as President Snow during the first film, possibly because he was so different from how I had pictured the character. By Catching Fire, however, he took the part and made it his own; once he has seen Katniss as a threat, he is no longer that outwardly charming, grandfatherly figure, but subtly menacing. "Their love will inspire us and will continue to do so every day for the rest of their lives..." brrr! You can hear the threat behind these words, and they are chilling indeed.

I still felt that the love triangle was incongruous, but this time I thought it was a deliberate choice, highlighting to the viewer that the emphasis on romance is supposed to be a distraction from what's really going on. In conversation, it became very clear that though Peeta is infatuated with Katniss, he really doesn't know her at all. As a result, I'm afraid I found his argument that without Katniss he'd have nothing to live for somewhat pathetic and unbelievable. Johanna's defiance, ("What can they do to me? There's no one left that I love!") was entirely convincing. I don't know if that's a comment on the actors or the characters - probably a mixture of both. Johanna was my favourite newcomer in the book of Catching Fire, and Jena Malone brought her to life perfectly; a tough, angry young woman who is yet pitiable and entertaining despite having been hardened by her experiences.

Catching Fire was notable for the hope amidst the horror. No matter how brutal the Capitol becomes in trying to stamp out every last spark of rebellion, the small acts of heroism and sacrifice shine out the brighter when all is bleak. Cinna, Beetee, Mags show a quiet strength that is extremely powerful when the world seems to be conspiring to dehumanise them all. Cinna's uncertain fate is devastating. Because I knew it was coming, I felt the dread in every scene he appeared in, and even being prepared did not protect me from the horror as he is dragged away just as Katniss is sent straight into a battle for her life while overwhelmed and disorientated by shock and grief.

Effie Trinket also grows as a character since her first appearance, having finally got to know her tributes - her victors - as people after years of seeing them as mere walking dead. Her false jollity in the farcical reaping ceremony is heartbreaking and grotesque. Beneath her daft ways there is a genuine affection, and perhaps even a small complicity in the rebellion. My friends and I discussed afterwards whether Effie and her Capitol cronies were just as much prisoners of the system as the residents of the twelve districts, how much of their superficiality was an act born of fear.

After the demise of suave Seneca Crane and his marvellous beard, there is a new head gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee. In stark contrast to Crane, Plutarch comes across as rather sleazy. Having read the book, it's difficult to say whether or not it was obvious that he was secretly conspiring against the government. It seemed obvious to me, but that is probably because I knew how to read his dialogue and motivations. However, he is not what one might picture as a revolutionary, being rather stodgy and unglamorous.

The Hunger Games themselves were the least interesting part of the film for me, probably because I was just waiting for the characters to figure out what I already knew, the nature of the arena, but there was a lot to think about nonetheless. This time, there was more than just action and violence; there was teamwork and characters actually trying to keep each other alive. I was struck by the weirdness of the characters working as allies when the time would come when they must turn on each other. (Of course, the plot has other ideas.) In these Hunger Games, however, personal survival comes secondary to protest, each act of teamwork, sacrifice and life-saving an act of defiance before the final, dramatic confrontation.

Reading Cram Read-a-thon Day 2 and Top Ten Tuesday

12:15PM: I spent most of yesterday evening reading Perdido Street Station, and reached the end of part two. I went to bed quite early, as I could barely keep my eyes open, but managed to get in a couple more chapters of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire before falling asleep. Hagrid's secret past has been splashed all over the Daily Prophet, in a subplot that I don't think was touched on much during the films. I can't help feeling that Rita Skeeter must be based upon J. K. Rowling's own experiences with evil journalists (and if she were a muggle, Miss Skeeter would be the Daily Mail's darling. What a nasty piece of work.)

I made the most of my day off this morning by not setting my alarm clock and sleeping in late. I read another chapter of Perdido Street Station over breakfast, though since then I've really just been pottering around, dancing round my room to my Dreamboats and Petticoats CD and getting sucked into the internet. Time to put that computer away, Edwards! Get reading!

3:30PM: Oops.

Everyone seems to be talking about NOS4R2 among my bloggy friends. I've had my eye on it since it was first released, but was going to wait for the small paperback to be published. But with all the internet chatter about this book, and the fact that it is apparently a Christmassy horror story, I couldn't wait another year, and as I just needed to spend another £10 at Waterstone's before I got a free gift card, I decided to treat myself to an early Christmas present.

Perdido Street Station: The story so far:

Isaac's study of assorted birds, bugs and other winged creatures has brought him into contact with a brightly-coloured creature which has a strange effect, seemingly with powerful psychic or empathic abilities. This creature has been stolen from a research facility, where its siblings have been treated with caution, even fear. This cannot end well. My suspicion is that it will incite all sorts of nastiness from the people of New Crobuzon.

10PM: After coming back from town, I intended to get stuck back into my book for the rest of the afternoon, but after updating the blog, I ended up sorting out all my photos from the last 15 months and deciding which ones need to be printed for albums. I still love having physical photo albums to look back over my memories. Then I remembered I still hadn't reviewed the film of Catching Fire, so I put that right (scheduled for tomorrow morning when I'm back at work.) I settled back into my book for an hour or so, where some very strange events came to pass. First, as far as I can make out, someone programmes a hoover to make it become sentient. You may call it a cleaning construct all you like, but as far as I'm concerned it's a hoover. Now, quite what the plot has planned for a sentient hoover, I am yet to find out. Also, the weird psychic, drug-addicted caterpillar-creature Isaac has been studying has hatched out of its cocoon as a man-sized killer moth, and has freed its fellow man-sized killer moths from the research facility to cause chaos across the city. Despite how silly this may sound, it's quite suspenseful stuff, and I'm keen and dreading to see what happens next.

This evening I took over the kitchen and baked some delicious Christmas goodies: sugar cookies, Christmas cupcakes and a batch of fruit and nut shortbread, which should be ready to come out of the oven any minute. I am not posting photos because although they taste delicious, they look nothing like the photos in the recipe books, alas. I started icing the cakes when they were still warm, and it turned out a bit messy, but I ate the worst of the evidence.

I'm off to bed in a minute, for an early night and to see if I can get to the end of part three of Perdido Street Station before meeting Judith for lunch tomorrow.

Stats:

What I've read today: Perdido Street Station

Number of pages read today: 127

Running total: 332 pages

Number of mince pies consumed during the readathon: 3 1/2

My life outside books: I am a baking queen!

Top Ten Tuesday: The to-read pile

Top Ten Tuesday is hosted by the ladies at The Broke and the Bookish

Well, my to-read pile has more than ten books on it, but the following are likely to be read sooner rather than later.

1. Mindstar Rising - Peter Hamilton. This is a loan from a friend, who described it as "detective fiction set in the not-so-distant future." Aside from that I know very little about the book, but look forward to finding out.

2. From a Buick 8 - Stephen King. Because I haven't read any King for a while, and my brain is itching to read some more. This one was on the 3 for £5 offer at the Works, so I had to snap it up.

3. Interworld - Neil Gaiman and Michael Reaves. A Neil Gaiman book I haven't read yet? Better put that right!

4. Shine Shine Shine - Lydia Netzer: A book I picked up on my last-but-one trip to London: "This is the story of an astronaut who is lost in space, and the wife he left behind."

5. Mr Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore: Robin Sloane: A book about books, bookshops, and bookshop customers. What's not to love?

6. Something Borrowed - Paul Magrs: The sequel to Never the Bride which I read on holiday this summer. If it's as good as the first, I'm in for a treat. This is a library book, and I've already renewed it once, so I ought to get to this one soon.

7. The Cuckoo's Calling - Robert Galbraith: Yeah, we all know "Robert Galbraith's" real identity. Though I didn't buy it because it's by J.K. Rowling, the extra publicity made me actually look at this book and decide it looked good. I enjoy crime fiction, but don't read that much of it because when I'm in the crime section of a bookshop or library, I don't really know where to start without a particular author or title in mind.

But before I get started on The Cuckoo's Calling, I ought to finish my reread of the Harry Potter books. I don't like having more than one book or series on the go by the same author or in the same genre at any one time.

8. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix - J. K. Rowling. Also Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows.

9: A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens. 
10: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe - C. S. Lewis: These two are essential December rereads, for obvious reasons.

Reading Cram end of year read-a-thon: Day 1

7:30PM

So here we are at the start of another read-a-thon, a lovely way to wrap up the year. It's nearly the end of day one, but I've been working, so have only managed to read a couple of chapters, before work and at lunch time. Now I've had my dinner and made a large cup of coffee for myself, and will shortly put my computer away and get lost in a good book in front of the fire.

What I'm reading:

I've got three books on the go at the moment: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (a Christmassy reread), The Explorer Gene, and China Mieville's Perdido Street Station. I'm aiming to finish the first two this week, and to read up to the end of part three of Perdido Street Station by Wednesday, when I am next seeing my friend, with whom I'd doing a readalong.

The story so far: 

In a city where humans and strange creatures coexist, Isaac and Lin are an inter-species couple. Isaac is a scientist, while Lin is an artist, half-human, half insect(ish). Both have been commissioned with unusual tasks. Isaac, Lin and some of their bohemian friends visit a fair to try to find answers for Isaac's problem, but instead they are horrified by the freak show they find within.

Stats:

What I've read today: Perdido Street Station
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Number of pages read today: 205

Running total: 205 pages

Number of mince pies consumed during the readathon: 1 1/2

My life outside books: Went into the supermarket to buy sandwich fillings, came out with a bagful of Christmassy food. I regret nothing!
Quote of the day: "Art's something you choose to make... it's a bringing together of... of everything around you into something that makes you more human..." - Derkhan, Perdido Street Station.

Sunday Summary: Christmas is coming!

One of the problems of working in retail is that you spend so long knowing that it's "nearly Christmas" in shop terms from September onwards, that you don't really believe it. Then December hits and you're just about getting in the mood and then it's over. Well, this year, I've started feeling like it really is coming up for Christmas... because I've got a cold. Unfortunately, since I've been in this job, Christmas and colds seem to go hand-in-hand. I've lost my voice. It must be Christmas! I was actually glad to get ill this week, because it means I'll be better by Christmas day and be able to really enjoy the festivities. It has, however, been an interesting experience trying to communicate with customers in a busy shop when I can barely speak above a whisper. Yesterday, I was seriously tempted to hold up cards with questions like: "Do you need a bag?" on them.

I didn't write a Sunday Summary last week because I went to visit my sister in London, where I got a lot of my Christmas shopping done - hurrah! I managed to restrain myself in Foyles bookshop, only emerging with one book for myself, and that because I hadn't brought enough to read on the train. I came away with Mr Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, which I remembered reading about Ellie and Hanna fighting over on one of their epic shopping trips.

It was good to get away from the Island for a few days - it can get a bit claustrophobic living there. Visiting London for Christmas shopping also made me appreciate how comparatively quiet even the busiest times of year are in my little town. I met up with one of my best friends, Clare, in Kingston, where we had breakfast and wandered around the shops for a bit. Then, with half an hour to kill before I had to catch the train, we made the mistake of going into the Oxfam bookshop. Did I say I was restrained? Well, I was up until that last shop. Oops.

The green bag I'm holding contains 3 books (because once you make up your mind to buy one book, you lose all self-control and find yourself taking home any other book that catches your eye.) In Oxfam I found a hardback called The Explorer Gene, a biography of three generations of the same family who, in different ways, boldly went where no man had gone before. (Sorry not sorry. The family name is Piccard. I was most disappointed that there was no use of that tagline, when writing about the first man to fly in a balloon into the stratosphere, the first man to dive deepest in the ocean, and the first man to balloon non-stop around the world. Perhaps it was too obvious.) I picked up a paperback of 2001: A Space Odyssey, which I've read already this year, but which reawakened my childhood interest in space travel, and finally, a Neil Gaiman book I've never read before, a collaboration with Michael Reaves called Interworld. 

Last week was my last holiday before Christmas, and I spent a lot of the time reading. As well as The Night Strangers which I reviewed here, I read Cecelia Ahern's latest novel, How To Fall In Love. I'm not much of a chick-lit fan, but I do enjoy Ahern's books; they are girly and sweet, but have more to them than just romance, shoes and shopping. They are a cosy read on a cold and grey winter's day. I've started rereading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and once more enjoying discovering the parts of the story I'd forgotten. The Quidditch World Cup is the first time you see much of the Wizarding community outside Hogwarts, and is always a lot of fun to read - until it all turns nasty.

My train-reading was Al Ewing's The Fictional Man, which I promise I will review during the next week. It's set in a world where fictional characters can be brought to life with cloning technology, and is a fascinating study of stories and humanity, the lines between fiction and reality and whether

they are as clear as you might think, about prejudice and the art of adapting a story from one medium to another. It is engrossing and hilariously funny; I embarrassed myself a couple of times laughing out loud on the train, or talking to the book at plot twists. In Forbidden Planet in Southampton, I picked up the first of Neil Gaiman's Sandman prequel. I confess I prefer reading comics when they are combined into graphic novel format - the adverts are annoying.

I've watched some more Star Trek: The Next Generation, though it hasn't hooked me as much as the original series, and though I like Wil Wheaton as an adult, his character Wesley is every bit as insufferable as I'd been warned: the know-it-all kid who is just so misunderstood but saves the day. It is an interesting change to have crew members' families aboard the Enterprise, but I don't like it. Most unprofessional. I also re-watched the first season of Dollhouse, and noticed a lot more in it the second time around. It was a lot easier to follow the clues when you know the twists they are leading up to.

My sister showed me Now You See Me, a film about a team of magicians who use illusion and trickery to commit massive crimes, shown through the eyes of the detective who is trying to stop them. A brilliant, gripping thriller that'll keep you guessing. I predicted the twist at the end, but I didn't really believe it: "It could be anything but this, therefore it probably is this." I'd be interested to watch it again and see what I missed that was staring me right in the face, because I know of at least one thing that was hidden in plain sight, but which I did not see because my attention was misdirected. Very clever film.

I finally went to see The Hunger Games: Catching Fire, which I enjoyed better than the first, probably because, though I had read the book, the story was not so fresh in my mind that I knew exactly what was going to happen and in which order. I think that is the best way for me to watch
films based on books I love, so that I'm not constantly comparing them. Because I'd been out of the world of Panem since the last film was released, I expected to watch it with a degree of detachment, but I found myself in tears very early on, when Katniss and Peeta visited District 11 on their Victory tour. Jennifer Lawrence was naturally amazing as Katniss (though her expression in a certain lift scene was pure Jennifer, and it was wonderful.) I wasn't convinced by President Snow in the first film, but this time I found him utterly chilling. My new favourite character was Johanna. I loved her in the book, and she was brought to life perfectly by Jena Malone. Again, there is a full review still to come.

This coming week I'll be participating in Dana and Jenny's End of Year Reading Cram read-a-thon, which I am very much looking forward to. I've stocked up on chocolate oranges, Pringles (sour cream and onion) mini stollen bites and mince pies to keep me company, because what is a read-a-thon without snacks? This week my aim is to finish Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and The Explorer Gene, as well as to get stuck into China Mieville's Perdido Street Station. I'm doing a readalong of the latter with my best friend Judith; it is a fantasy novel quite unlike any other, dark and a little bit steampunkish, and instead of being set in a world peopled with the same old elves, dwarves and wizards (or elves, dwarves and wizards under different names,) Mieville has created a completely new world in the city of New Crobuzon. So far I've only read part one of eight, but I'm already hooked. Finally, I'd like to read something Christmassy, probably a reread of an old favourite, such as The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe or A Christmas Carol. What are your reading plans for the week? Do you have any must-read Christmas books, either old favourites or new discoveries?

The Moonstone Readalong - Part Two: some decidedly odd goings-on.

Contains spoilers, do not read until you've finished The Moonstone.

In the first half of this month's #readwilkie readalong, we spent a lot of time with old-fashioned steward Gabriel Betteredge and formidable spinster Miss Clack. The narratives in the second half of The Moonstone are, for the most part, shorter than the first, and there are more narrators, the most significant being Franklin Blake and Ezra Jennings.

We've already met Franklin in Betteredge's narrative; a young relative of the family who had been abroad for a long time, but whose return brought the fateful Moonstone into the house. And here is revealed a twist just as shocking to Franklin as it is to us: all the evidence points to himself as the thief! Though he has no memory of that night, he accepts on the word of Rachel Verinder that she saw him take the stone from where she had kept it. The reason for her suspicious behaviour is revealed: Rachel is in love with her cousin (hey, this is the Victorian era, after all) and is covering for him. It emerges that after an argument with the Doctor, Mr Candy, on the subject of medicine at Rachel's birthday dinner-party, Candy arranged to have Franklin drugged with opium. Perhaps it's a sign of how times and attitudes have changed (and we know that Wilkie used opium) but what would nowadays be considered a shocking act of medical malpractice is brushed off as a practical joke, a minor annoyance.

And then comes the craziest part of the story. Franklin and Mr Candy's assistant, Ezra Jennings, hatch a ridiculous plot to attempt to discover the location of the Moonstone by recreating that evening as precisely as possible. Because surely if you give a man opium a second time he will retrace his exact steps and actions as the last time he was under the influence of the drug, no? They are very reluctantly assisted by Betteredge, who is hilariously snarky and passive-aggressive in his part.

"When we took up the carpet last year, Mr Jennings, we found a surprising quantity of pins. Am I responsible for putting back the pins?"

"As to Mr Franklin's bedroom (if that is to be put back to what it was before), I want to know who is responsible for keeping it in a perpetual state of litter, no matter how often it may be set right - his trousers here, his towels there, and his French novels everywhere. I say, who is responsible for untidying the tidiness of Mr Franklin's room, him or me?"

"Speaking as a servant, I am deeply indebted to you. Speaking as a man, I consider you to be a person whose head is full of maggots, and I take up my testimony against your experiment as a delusion and a snare. Don't be afraid, on that account, of my feelings as a man getting in the way of my duty as a servant! You shall be obeyed. The maggots notwithstanding, sir, you shall be obeyed. If it ends in your setting the house on fire, Damme if I send for the engines, unless you ring the bell and order them first!"

New narrator Ezra Jennings is a character to be pitied, a good man, but an outsider, shunned and feared due to his mixed race and odd appearance. He is not self-indulgent, but makes it clear he's had a sad and lonely life; he speaks of a lady he's never stopped loving, but could never marry, he is dying of an unspecified disease, and addicted to opium, which he started taking for the pain. If your heart doesn't ache for this man, it must be made of stone!

I wasn't very surprised by the revelation of the ultimate thief; Mr Godfrey Ablewhite had not escaped suspicion, and in fact seemed to be the obvious thief back when no one really seemed to care what had happened to the Moonstone. I never trusted him from the start. This whiter-than-white gentleman, patron to all these ladies' charities and sponsor of innumerable good causes, seemed more than a bit smarmy to me, right from his first introduction. Poor Miss Clack, she idolised him so. What a blow it must be for her to learn of his hypocrisy and double life.

The Moonstone keeps you guessing right to the last couple of dozen pages, a story of thrills and twists. But did its ending live up to it? I'd been a little uncertain of where the story would end up, but in the end I'd had no need to worry. I was pleased that the Moonstone ended up returning to its rightful place - by which I do not mean in the possession of a spoiled rich English girl! The epilogue takes the story full circle to see the stone returned to the sacred statue in India, whence it had been stolen amid bloodshed by the evil Colonel Herncastle. Thank you Wilkie!

And thank you to Ellie for organising this readalong. The Moonstone was my first Wilkie novel, though I once owned a copy of The Woman in White, which I lent to a friend before reading, and never saw again. I'm very glad I decided at the last minute to join in, it's been great fun.

The Night Strangers - Chris Bohjalian

Airline pilot Chip Linton's life changes forever when he is forced to crash land his plane into a lake. Had it not been for a boat disturbing the water at just the wrong time, it could have been done relatively smoothly, but instead, thirty-nine people died. Chip survived. Several months on, still devastated by the accident and suffering PTSD, he moves with his wife Emily and twin daughters Hallie and Garnet to a new home: a big, old house in an out-of-the-way village in a different state.

But there is no escaping from the past. In the basement of their new home, Chip finds a door sealed with thirty-nine bolts, and the significance of this number - the same number as victims of the air disaster - is not lost on him, and its presence taunts him. But when Chip takes an axe to the door to reveal... a boarded-up coal hole, it is his own ghosts that are freed from their prison, in an ambiguous mix of ghost story and psychological horror. The Linton's house seems to serve the same purpose as The Shining's Overlook Hotel, a dark, creepy place with a sinister past, which makes already damaged people much, much worse. Like the best Gothic settings, this house is not merely a place where the action happens.

The strangeness is not limited to the house, however. Many of the Lintons' new neighbours are not quite like other people. Many of the women spend all their time in their greenhouses tending herbs, baking vegan food and mixing up herbal remedies, and they all seem to have names like Sage, Anise and Clary. The other people in the town shun them, even fear them, though they seem friendly enough, taking a keen interest in the twins and welcoming them into their new home. But they know too much, and seem to have their own purposes for wanting the new family to join their circle, and as the Linton family spend more and more time with the "herbalists," Bohjalian evokes a creeping sense of claustrophobic dread.

The Night Strangers is a vivid, gripping read, though a very dark one. Much as you may hope, there is an inevitability that the book won't have a cosy ending. In fact, it is not until the epilogue that the outcome of the climactic scene is made clear. I found myself re-reading in case I'd missed something, but no, the last chapter left the characters' fate unclear. Half The Shining, half Stepford Wives (with a strong seasoning of magical herbs), The Night Strangers left me feeling deeply unsettled.

Signing up for another read-a-thon

Well, winter is definitely upon us. I'm writing this wearing two jumpers, fingerless gloves and fluffy slipper boots. It's cold, it's dark, it's gloomy - what better than to lose myself in books? Dana and Jenny seem to be in agreement, as they have scheduled a monster two-week read-a-thon for December, a last chance to get through as many books on the 2013 to-read pile as possible. Count me in!

The End of the Year read-a-thon will be taking place between 9th and 22nd of December, which means that even though it's a busy time of year with work and Christmas preparations, I should still have plenty of time to devour a few books - hurrah!

I won't be setting myself any specific goals for this read-a-thon. My to-read pile has doubled since the end of 2012, and I'd like to clear some of my books off in order to make room for new ones in the new year. Which these will be, however, depends on my mood when I finish the previous book. I've got all genres to choose from: crime and thriller, science fiction, horror and fantasy, general adult fiction, teen and children's books too. I've even got a couple of non-fiction books waiting to be read. (You can see my books in the side panel of my blog.) As it's coming up to Christmas, I may well also revisit some old favourite seasonal reads as well.

Readathon discussions will take place on Twitter under the tag of #readingcram, and Dana and Jenny have some awesome challenges and post prompts scheduled to inspire our blogging creativity. Bring it on!

Sunday Summary: Adventures in Space and Time

I didn't write a Sunday Summary last week as I was busy with my Moonstone midway post. Most of my last two weeks' reading has been from Wilkie, although I took a couple of days out last week to read Yahtzee Croshaw's Mogworld. My friend Judi lent me Mogworld with the strict instructions not to look at the back blurb, so I had no idea what to expect from it. The only clue I had was that she lent it to me in response to me giving her a copy of Redshirts. Like Redshirts, Mogworld follows a group of supporting characters in someone else's epic adventure: in this case a fantastical world which bears an uncanny resemblance to a role-playing game. (My first thought was Dungeons and Dragons, but their world later turned out to be something else entirely.) Protagonist - not hero - Jim died at the beginning of the book, but a meddling necromancer brought him back as a zombie. All he wants is to die again and stay dead, but the plot has other plans for him. Mogworld was a light-hearted, easy read, not as brilliant as Terry Pratchett, but with a similar sort of eccentric British humour. I got through this in two days.

I finished The Moonstone earlier this week. Although none of the narrators in the second half managed to be as entertaining as Gabriel Betteredge and Drusilla Clack, Betteredge made another few appearances, acting hilariously passive-aggressive when coerced into a mad scheme of which he didn't approve. New character Ezra Jennings is a mysterious, rather tragic figure, a doctor's assistant who is terminally ill and addicted to opium, probably the most interesting character after Betteredge and Clack. The story kept me guessing throughout, up to a very satisfying conclusion. (I will write more about this later on this week.)

My current read is The Night Strangers by Chris Bohjalian, a book I picked up on impulse from the returns shelf in the library. It's a sort of psychological ghost story, an extended metaphor about how a past trauma can continue to haunt a person's everyday life. Some parts of the book are written in the second person, and this, combined with detailed, detached descriptions of an airplane crash-landing from the point of view of the pilot, was utterly terrifying, giving an immediacy to the disaster that any other narrative choice would be unlikely to capture. The story follows the pilot, Chip, and his family, as they move to a new home and try to put the tragedy behind them. Unfortunately, their new home is reminiscent in many ways of The Shining's Overlook Hotel, and the only new neighbours to reach out to the family are a group of sinister "herbalist" women who seem to have their own reasons for wanting Chip and his family in their circle.

After bidding farewell to Captain Kirk, Mr Spock and Dr McCoy last week, I made a start on Star Trek: The Next Generation. Before I actually resigned myself to becoming a Trekkie, this series was more what I expected from Star Trek. I think I was first shown a clip of Captain Jean-Luc Picard in school; I can remember which classroom I was in, round about year 8, and I cannot for the life of me remember why it was shown. Even then, I think there was something appealing about the show. I'm liking The Next Generation a lot, though I'm not in love with it like I am the original series and its crew. I don't think I want to fall in love with it. It would feel disloyal.

Also in the world of ancient science-fiction-ish TV, Doctor Who celebrated its fiftieth anniversary this week. On Thursday, the BBC showed a moving documentary-drama called An Adventure in Space and Time, all about how Doctor Who came into being in 1963. Then, last night, was the eagerly-anticipated 50th anniversary special. The episode was simultaneously broadcast all over the world, with special cinema showings and many fish-finger-and-custard parties. (A disturbing number of my friends posted pictures of this, erm, delicacy on Facebook.)

I watched the episode with my dad at home, wearing my Tardis T-shirt and Doctor Who (ish) scarf. "The Day of the Doctor" started by going right back to the beginning, using the original 1963 opening credits and starting off in the very same school where Susan Foreman, the Doctor's granddaughter, once attended as a precocious pupil.

The main theme of the episode came as no real surprise. I had been predicting its subject for as long as I'd been aware that there would be fiftieth anniversary celebrations. And about a week ago, the BBC posted a prequel mini-episode which took away all doubt. The first thing I knew about this video was what was intended to be a major surprise, announced by the official Doctor Who Twitter account with no spoiler warnings, before I even knew there was a spoiler to avoid. I was (and am) very cross to find out about that, and thought that the story deserved to be part of the episode itself, rather than a web exclusive. Though it didn't tell me more than I'd already suspected about the anniversary episode, I'd rather have gone into the story with no more than my own theories.

Although the story showed the Doctor messing with his own timeline and rewriting certain parts of the series' narrative, it was done with illusion rather than my pet hate, the reset button, so I'll let it pass. Matt Smith and David Tennant were a lot of fun to watch together - I'd forgotten how much I'd enjoyed the Tenth Doctor's adventures (when he wasn't being angsty.) And John Hurt as the other version of the Doctor, the one who his later incarnations never speak of, was a wonderful addition to the canon (even if not numbered) tormented by his choices, bewildered by his later "childish" incarnations, but lovely, hardly the villain. It's always fun watching the past and present regenerations reacting, and this episode showed all of them collaborating. Yes. ALL of them. There were a couple of nice, unexpected cameos, though I would have liked to have seen more guest appearances rather than re-use of old footage. Really, I wanted many of the people who had vehemently denied being part of the episode to have been lying, although if that were the case, it could have been quite gimmicky, sacrificing storytelling. But the storytelling was well done here.

Doctor Who was a great way to mark the beginning of a week's holiday. The last few years I've taken the final week permitted before Christmas, as a means of recharging my batteries before the craziness that is December in retail. I plan to get a lot of reading done, perhaps watch some classic Doctor Who and more Star Trek: TNG, and to get back into my NaNoWriMo project, which has come to a halt at exactly 10 000 words. 40 000 in a week is not going to happen, but if I can get back into the story, I'll be pleased. On Friday I'm going to stay with my sister in London, where I intend to get some Christmas shopping done, and also catch up with one of my best friends who lives nearby.

Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country

 "Captain's log: Stardate 9529.1. This is the final cruise of the Starship Enterprise under my command. This ship and her history will shortly become the care of another crew. To them and their posterity will we commit our future. They will continue the voyages we have begun, and journey to all the undiscovered countries, boldly going where no man, where no one, has gone before." - Captain James T. Kirk

Excuse me for a moment; I seem to have something in my eye...

Over the past five months, I have travelled through the galaxy in the company of the captain and crew of the Starship Enterprise. With them I have visited strange new worlds, planets run by children, planets run by godlike beings, mirror universes and planets bearing an odd resemblance to the Earth of the past. Together we have defied logic, defied death, defied orders. We have fought men in lizard costumes, cooed over tribbles, been enlightened of the many, many things we never knew were "inwented in Russia," grieved for many fallen redshirts, been chased through the halls of the Enterprise by Sulu with a sword, experienced pon farr with Spock, and all in all, had a whale of a time.

 In just a short time, I've fitted in 25 years' worth of character growth, seen friendships tested and strengthened, watched a young starship crew mature and develop and age. And now, in The Undiscovered Country, it is time to say goodbye. Three months before he and his crew are due to retire, Captain James Kirk is sent on a final mission: as diplomat to negotiate peace talks with the Klingons, whose entire race looks doomed to extinction. This is a role Kirk takes on reluctantly; he has never forgiven the Klingons for the death of his son. The diplomatic dinner is a disaster. The Klingon ambassador is assassinated, and Kirk and McCoy stand convicted of of his murder and sentenced to lifelong hard labour in the mines of a frozen planet. It is up to Captain Spock and the Enterprise crew to rescue their friends, expose the conspiracy and prevent the uneasy truce between Federation and Klingon Empire from breaking into all-out war.

Like the episodes, no two Star Trek movies have been alike. We've had hard science fiction, swashbuckling epic, high-stakes adventure, time-travel comedy, and Pomposity: The Movie. Now we have a political thriller which heralds a significant change to the Trek Universe as we've known it so far. But change, this movie stresses, is to be embraced, the future is not to be feared.

The Undiscovered Country gives Kirk, Spock et al a respectful sending-off, a solid finale that combines Star Trek's finest elements: friendship,  humour and courage, a sense of adventure and a hope for the future, all woven together to celebrate the twenty five years of the show and pass on the baton.
It is heartwarming from the very beginning, when Sulu's voice-over dictates his Captain's log - for he has been made captain of the mighty Starship Excelsior - but is still bound to the Enterprise by loyalty to his former commander and comrades. Spock, in his dialogues with his protegee Valaris, demonstrates just how far he has come from the uptight young officer at war with his human side. McCoy amusingly asks what every viewer has been thinking about Kirk's irresistible appeal to the opposite sex, and Chekov claims one more thing - the story of Cinderella - as Russia's own. The one blot on the record is the film's portrayal of Uhura, who has had a long and prosperous career as a Starfleet communications officer, apparently without much in the way of the Klingon language. Overall, however, The Undiscovered Country is the perfect finale as twenty-five years of story comes to a natural ending. The film provides satisfying closure, while opening the door to other series set in the same universe. This is the end of a chapter, but not of the story.

It never occurred to me until this year that Star Trek would be a thing I could get emotionally invested in. But now it's time to move on to The Next Generation (because I have all the films in a box set and ought to know a bit about this new cast before I watch them) and I am already resenting it for trying to take the place of the original series. Kirk, Spock and McCoy, and the supporting cast feel like real people to me now, good friends. How can you replace friends with brand-new, made-up characters? How can Star Trek be Star Trek without William Shatner's infamous overacting, Leonard Nimoy's incredible right eyebrow, DeForest Kelley's huge heart and lovely wonky smile? Without the calm presence of Uhura and Sulu, the humour provided by Scotty and Chekov? Can another series really reproduce the brilliance of the one it was based upon?

No doubt I'll surprise myself once more.

The Moonstone Readalong, part one: Betteredge and Clack

"When I came here from London with that horrible Diamond," [said Mr Franklin] "I don't believe there was a happier house in England than this. Look at the household now! Scattered, disunited - the very air of the place poisoned with mystery and suspicion."

The Moonstone of the title is a huge, beautiful diamond stolen from India by a British officer and smuggled back to England. On his deathbed he leaves the diamond to his estranged granddaughter Rachel Verinder, but is it a genuine gift and symbol of his repentence, or a curse? This diamond carries a lot of superstition, and its rightful owners want it back, at whatever cost. Then the Moonstone disappears...

The story is told by several narrators, each telling only the part of the story to which they personally witnessed, in order, allegedly, to get a rounded and accurate account of the mystery surrounding the diamond's disappearance. However, the narrators have their own biases and prejudices, and are not entirely reliable; the evidence they present varies from the conclusion they want you to draw.

Take Betteredge, for example. Gabriel Betteredge is the head of the servants in the Verinders' house, and he absolutely adores his mistress and their family. In his eyes, neither Lady Verinder nor her daughter Rachel can do any wrong. He is an old-fashioned sort of fellow, chivalrously condescending, but sweet enough to get away with all kinds of patronising attitudes without more than a raised eyebrow from the reader. His bible is Robinson Crusoe; it is astonishing what comfort and wisdom he can find in that book whenever his peace of mind is disturbed.

Betteredge's loyalty to "his" family puts him rather at odds with the detective, Sergeant Cuff, who seems too eager to actually solve the mystery of the moonstone, inconveniently following all the clues, even those which might incriminate members of the family. It amused me to see Betteredge growing more and more exasperated with Cuff as he continued in his investigations. Betteredge might not like the sergeant at all, but I thought he was a great character; a predecessor to Sherlock Holmes, and a bit of an eccentric, coming to blows with the gardener over their differing opinions about the rose garden. Cuff also made me think of Lt. Columbo; less bumbling but just as irritating to the people around him, with his inconvenient questions - and his thoughtful whistling as the pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place.

By the end of the first part of the novel, a lot of the answers seem clear, yet there is still a lot of the book still to go. After Betteredge's section, we relocate with Rachel and Lady Verinder to London, and we meet a new narrator: Miss Clack. This dreadful woman is exactly what you would expect with a name like that: a finicky, pious, interfering old maid who has taken on a mission to convert the entire country with a ready supply of religious tracts. Though rather a caricature, I couldn't help but think she must have been based on some real-life lady or ladies Wilkie must have met on his travels. I'm sure she means well, but she is so heavy-handed, bludgeoning everyone with her evangelism, seeing them only as souls in desperate need of her spiritual wisdom, rather than people who could do with a bit more earthly compassion from time to time. As a result, her effect on people that she met was both sad and funny; it became somewhat of a running joke that just a few words from her would provoke a horrified and profane reaction from each hearer. Her desperate attempts to reach her family by hiding her books and pamphlets ("Satan in the Hair Brush," "Satan under the Tea Table," and "Satan among the Sofa Cushions") in every nook and cranny made me chortle, as did her "Preparation by Little Notes" - if Rachel would not read the pamphlets, perhaps she might benefit from reading some choice passages copied out in letter format? Miss Clack's determination to get her message to its intended recipient reminded me of the barrage of owls carrying Harry Potter's first letter from Hogwarts. Poor dear; tact is utterly alien to her, and despite being hilariously awful, you can't help feeling sorry for her as her efforts alienate everyone she cares for, leaving her all alone.

Since we left Yorkshire for London, the mystery of the moonstone seems to have taken a back seat. Since Sergeant Cuff has been sent on his way, no one seems that concerned about tracking the gem's whereabouts. It is not forgotten, but seems to be treated as an unpleasantness that is in the past and not to be mentioned; that if no one speaks of the mystery, perhaps it will go away of its own accord.

Somehow, I think that's not going to happen.