hubert selby jr. has died, and that's a damned awful thing.

most of my favourite american writers have died off in the past decade or so and i haven't really gotten into any of the newer ones.

there's an interview with selby jr. on the dvd of requiem for a dream that's worth watching.

if you haven't read it, get last exit to brooklyn to see what you've been missing.

this one is an absolute pageturner. i picked it up out of curiosity, looking to read something completely different.

the story is basically that a big chunk of asia is a totalitarian state that holds warped competitions in which they take classrooms of students, dump them on an island with weapons, and force them to compete to the death until only one student remains.

what makes this book so great is that takami gets into the heads of junior high school kids, which makes these characters believable. they see the world in a simplistic light, and are still in the midst of understanding their own feelings and the world around them. this dynamic makes for many interesting plot developments based around confused emotions and betrayal. there are 42 students involved in the game, and takami explores all of the variations in reaction to impending mortality and attempts at victory.

yes, this book is violent. if you're upset easily then you may skip this one.

otherwise, battle royale has a compelling plot and contains well-drawn character studies. it may not qualify as literature, but it is undeniably gracefully executed fiction.

this book of essays is already ancient, but i decided to give it a read regardless. visiting mrs. nabokov covers twenty years of amis' career.

naturally, the first pieces i read were his literary ones on j.g. ballard, graham greene, salman rushdie, philip larkin, isaac asimov, and anthony burgess. there's other pieces on, or including, authors: john updike, v.s. naipaul, snooker with julian barnes, poker night with david mamet, and articles on nicholas baker and v.s. pritchett.

my favourites are the articles on roman polanski (what a messed up history), kasparov vs. karpov (chess as bloodsport), and the title piece (the nabokovs are intriguing people).

amis is a charming writer, to be sure. what makes some of the pieces great is the depth of some of his relationships (he'd known many of these characters for 20 years, partly due to his father's extensive literary friendships). what makes some of the pieces lame is that he was trying quite hard in his youth to prove that he could be honest and friendly in the same piece. the other glaring commonality is his constant emphasis on discussing liquor. not surprising, i suppose, given how renowned kingsley's fondness was for the bottle.

some of this book is worth reading if you can pick it up from the library.

it's been years since i've read any huxley, but that didn't mar my ability to enjoy nicholas murray's sympathetic biography (interestingly, i just noticed that this is the same word used twice in cover blurbs. must be true).

one of the recurring subjects of the book is how huxley's marginal eyesight affected his life and writings. the saucy bits of the book surround maria huxley's bisexuality and their open marriage encompassing mary hutchinson. but the fascinating parts are the overview of the development of huxley's intellect, and the social context in which his ideas were encountering the world. murray shows a huxley that was at the forefront of social criticism and philosophy.

curiously, i found this portrait so intimate and humanising that i was often surprised at the kind of high profile company huxley kept throughout his life. while he was an intimate of a good many celebrities, he isn't portrayed as an enormous celebrity himself. living away from metropolitan centres for many years, he sought solitude and meditation. a word that comes up regularly is 'cerebretonic'.

eventually i'd like to pick up sybille bedford's two volume bio on huxley, although nothing can make up for the enormous loss of letters, notes, and writing when the huxley home burned down.

have i outgrown walker's drama? i usually love reading plays - few things please me more than machine-gun rattle dialogue that is sharp and witty - but for once i felt let down.

suburban motel is a collection of six plays, all taking place in one motel room. a few of the pieces are alright, but the ones featuring max, the cop gone bad, were pretty cliched and boring.

overall, the plays try to be hardcore but come across as exactly that: trying.

the characters are troubled, but i didn't sympathise with any of them. walker was trying to do too much with this group of characters and interlocking plays.

i recall enjoying his earlier work, and will have to pick up his more recent stuff.

picked south of the northeast kingdom in a bargain bin somewhere, mostly out of curiosity with how mamet would write nonfiction. it is not surprising to read his eloquence and sureness. mamet is a man of opinions, and takes pride in the idea of having one. sometimes it feels a bit forced. other times he repackages old ideas with great phraseology, such as in the defense of ceremony:

Barbara Bush went to speak, during her period as First Lady, at one of the Seven Sister schools. A group there protested her presence, as she was being honored not for any personal accomplishment, so they thought, but as an adjunct of her spouse.

What a barren view. How many people have been made happier by reason than by ceremony?

Is the soldier's widow more comforted by a policy statement, or the honor guard?

he revels in the details of vermont living, openly admiring the authenticity of its citizens. in the end, however, mamet conveys the idea that even after 40 years of living there he still feels like an outsider. judging from the way mamet perceives the world, i think he would feel like an outsider no matter where he was. he approaches the world as an alien might, distant and curious.

while i didn't agree with some of his sentiments, i couldn't help but enjoy his ability to draw the narrative out of vermont.

my hearing was fuzzy for a day, but the overwhelming drones and head bopping grooves of stereolab were worth it (i will most likely disagree with this statement at a later point in life, such as when i can no longer hear).

the show itself was great, with the band looking like they may have been having something resembling a calm sort of fun. laetitia's vocals were lovely (as was her trombone playing and knob-twiddling), and she seemed a lot more into it than she was last time they played vancouver. while the band members were sorting out a fritzed keyboard, she noted "we went to sears today. it was very nice." i'm convinced that she could read a menu or the newspaper and it would sound dazzling.

they played heavily from their margerine eclipse album, but also did a smattering of classics. the treat was the walls of sound segments that made me feel physically zorked. it is impressive to feel what that intensity of sound can do to your body.

highlights:
a tall guy dressed in a black turtleneck, full-length black leather jacket, black gloves and a black beret. he was the stereotypical french villain.

my biggest highlight was an evening of blissed out bopping around.

opening act:
the sparrows, a local group, opened the show. while they have an interesting sound that will grow with time, they need to learn how to either cut their songs significantly or introduce more variation. the drummer kerthumped the rest of the group off the stage at times and i could have used a little more trumpet. more trumpet!

summed up, the sparrows resembled ben folds five mixed with green day and some string instruments. some harmonising with the ladies in the band would have added a complimentary layer to their sound.

show at commodore ballroom, vancouver, april 1, 2004

"the following feature presentation contains extreme coarse language"

although citytv gives us this warning, there is still one term that is bleeped. while it is acceptable to say "fucker" or "fuck your mother", citytv feels that "motherfucker" requires bleeping.

then again, this may be a crtc issue.

perhaps someone at the corporate mothership could tell us why.

update: i wrote a nicely worded letter to chum, going as far as to bleep the potentially offensive words. no reply as of 04/22/04. don't think there's going to be one.

update #2: trying a different address, and noting that i was going to write an article on the subject for canadian content, i received a quick reply. city tv program manager debbie millette was very nice to deal with. when i requested where i could find literature regarding profanity and broadcasting she pointed me to the canadian broadcast standards council.

clause 10, which relates to this issue, is vague. i've contacted the cbsc for further clarification. again, i'll keep you posted.