Keep a little fire burning; however small, however hidden. — Cormac McCarthy’s The Road
We’re really in the harshest part of Winter on this Scottish Estate, so the residents of Kinrowan Hall, save the staff of Gus, our Head Gardener, who have livestock and buildings to tend, are quite content to stay inside. There’s always something to stave off boredom, be it reading or needed Estate chores, at which everyone on this communitarian Estate lends a hand.
So it comes to pass that we’ve been cleaning out the under the eaves spaces and no, unlike at Evenmere Hall, we didn’t precisely find a dragon there – though we did find the plans for a rearly big stone one. There was a lot of stuff to be moved or discarded as The Steward has an intent to create more staff housing in part of it. The spaces are heated already to keep ice from building up on the slate roof, so extending plumbing and power will be no big deal.
What kind of stuff? A crate of botantical books that Gus claimed for his workshop; a model of Kinrowan Hall wonderfully detailed with real glass windows and tiny roof slates, that will be displayed in the Library for everyone to see; maps of the Estate dating back centuries, which went to our Steward; dark green glass pickling jars more than big enough for whole cabbages and which had something odd in them; hand written copies of The Sleeping Hedgehog from the mid-eighteenth century; a crate of whisky laid down centuries ago for later consumption and didn’t I as Pub Manager claim that fast; and some seelie impression balls of Elven performances of Elizabethan music which the Winter Court left here very long ago; and so forth.
Now let’s see what I found for you this time …
Gary here. I finished reading Sue Burke’s latest SF novel a few weeks ago, but it didn’t fit with the themes of the past couple of Green Man issues, so I’m presenting it now, along with a roundup of other books I reviewed in 2024. Burke’s ‘Dual Memory is a tale of late stage capitalism continuing to run amok as the planet continues to drown and boil, and refugees and raiders wash up on all shores, stressing humans and systems both built and natural. Burke has crafted a fast-paced, entertaining tale with likeable characters and a twisty, action filled plot.’
I didn’t review a lot of books in 2024, although I probably read just as many as ever. Mostly I came home from the library with a big stack of science fiction and worked my way through it. But as with many of us, I found that books now have to compete with lots of other things for our attention, from streaming entertainment to podcasts to just the online world itself. And of course I also re-read some old favorites. For the past 10 years since I first encountered them, Marilynne Robinson’s Gilead books have become my most re-read books. In 2024 the only one I re-read was Lila, which is in keen competition with Jack for my favorite of the lot.
But I began my reviewing year by wrapping up Neal Stephenson’s nearly 1,000-page Baroque Trilogy with the third, The System of the World. It was a satisfying end to the trilogy, which grew out of Stephenson’s very popular Cryptonomicon. It’s a series of historical novels (beginning with Quicksilver and continuing in The Confusion) with some minor SFF elements, notably one particular character who somehow travels through time and acts as a bit of cement holding together the entire series. In my review I noted that the trilogy “…follows three disparate characters through the tumultuous period at the end of the 17th and beginning of the 18th century, when changes in politics, economics, and what we now call the sciences sent Europe careening toward the Enlightenment. It’s the final piece of the story of how the era’s “natural philosophers” slowly began to reject the accepted beliefs about how the universe was ordered, many of them based on classical Roman and Greek writings and others on the Bible. And of how the best thinkers of the day debated and fought – sometimes literally – over how to describe the new reality they were seeing through their telescopes and microscopes.”
I continued with the latest installment of what may be my favorite SF series of all time, Martha Wells’s The Murderbot Diaries. This one, System Collapse picks up right where the previous book Network Effect left off, with our friendly neighborhood rogue SecUnit, his human companions and his best frenemy the research transport ART trying to rescue a bunch of stranded colonists from their planet that’s trying to kill them. As I concluded, “Fast paced, darkly hilarious, and deeply humane as usual, Wells’s latest Murderbot story is just what the Med Unit prescribed to relieve your own boredom, trauma, or existential crises.” (I just discovered that I haven’t yet reviewed Network Effect, which I hope to remedy soon.
Even better news is that The Murderbot Diaries is coming to Apple TV+, and Martha Wells has been doing some interviews and social media postings around it including an interview in Locus, excerpted here. She’s posting frequently on Bluesky.
My only other review was a non genre book, Per Petterson’s Out Stealing Horses. ‘A bildungsroman set in rural Norway just three years after that country’s Nazi occupation ended with the War, the story is told in first person by Trond Sander,’ I explained in my review. ‘The narrative is split between late 1940s Trond and present-day (1999) Trond; he’s now in his 60s, retired, and setting up bachelor quarters in a remote cabin by a lake with only a dog for companionship. The surroundings and an encounter with a neighbor send his thoughts to things that happened in his youth that he apparently has not revisited in a half-century.’ This was a re-read for me, having first read and loved it shortly after its English publication in 2003. It’s an intimate psychological portrait of self-discovery, as young Trond loses the innocence of childhood and adult Trond deals with repressed memories and traumas.
Sue Burke’s Semiosis is currently on my pile of books awaiting my attention, so expect a review of that in the new year. Other than that, who knows? Perhaps even a cookbook or two …
Happy reading in the New Year!
Dark chocolate bread pudding… Cocoa in huge mugs with homemade marshmallows… Chocolate chip cookies… We here at the Kinrowan Estate love chocolate in all its guises, so it’s not surprising that we review chocolate bars here with this review being by Robert of three Ritter bars: ‘The bars in this case are all square and all weigh in at 100g (3.5 oz.), and all seem somehow weightier than an equivalent size of American chocolate — I suspect because of the shape and size: they’re all about 3 inches on a side and are actually very nice to hold in the hand (if you can restrain yourself from ripping off the wrapper and stuffing your face).’
Me again, Gary, back with some music reviews to start the New Year. But first, the Russian World Music Chart for 2024 is out, and one of my favorites, Vedan Kolod’s Birds, is perched atop the Top 20 for 2024.
In new music, I review a couple of related releases from Giant Step, The Fury’s Live In Brooklyn, and Jason Palmer’s The Cross Over: Live in Brooklyn. The common thread on both (besides great live modern jazz) is saxophonist Mark Turner, who I said ‘…stands out for me because of his generally restrained and lyrical approach. This is true whether on Brewer’s lovely ballad “Of Our Time,” Lund’s anthemic “Couch” or his own skittering “Ender’s Game.” ‘
I also review Scroggins & Rose’s Speranza: ‘Scroggins & Rose is an acoustic duo project of mandolinist Tristan Scroggins and fiddler Alisa Rose. Both are multiple award nominees including Grammys and IBMA, and Rose is a U.S. State Department Musical Ambassador. Their music slots right in with a lot of contemprary acoustic stringband music like Hawkwind, Tatiana Hargreaves, Alison DeGroot, Billy Strings, Oliver the Crow, Watchhouse, Bruce Molsky, Goat Rodeo, etc.’
There’s something about the Winter Solstice and the turn of the year that makes us want to sit by the fire and listen to some good Nordic music. Our reviewers have written about a lot of this music over the years; here are some of our favorites.
Cat reviewed a disc from Sweden’s Triakel. ‘Sånger från 63º N is probably one of the finest Nordic CDs I’ve had to pleasure to hear in quite some time. Triakel consists of Emma Härdelin (vocals), Kjell-Erik Eriksson, (fiddle), and Janne Strömstedt (harmonium) which makes them akin to what Våsen was like when I heard them play at Bowdoin College sans percussionist a few years ago.’
Donna offered up a retrospective of three discs involving one of the founders of the Swedish band Hedningarna: Anders Norudde’s Kan Själv!, Anders Norudde, Leo Svensson, and Goran ‘Freddy’
Fredericksson’s Med Hull Och Hår, and Lennart Gybrant and Anders Norudde’s Böndernas Underverk. ‘Anders Norudde, once known as Anders Stake, was a founding member of this band and is still a mainstay in their eclectic neo-traditional sound. We have had a copy of Kan Sjalv! (I can do it myself), his solo CD, since it was released. A few years later, we tracked down a copy of Med hull och hår (Line and Sinker).’
Jack looks at some of the early releases of the pan-Nordic trio Frifot, and Sweden’s dark folk rockers Garmarna. ‘Frifot bring together three superb musicians that create a truly unique sound: Per Gudmundson (fiddle and bagpipe), Ale Möller (mandola, hummared dulcimer, and flutes), and Lena Willemark (vocals and fiddle),’ he says. And of Garmarna: ‘This is serious, winterside music with Emma Härdelin’s deep, soaring vocals and violin forming the base sound of the group. Think dark when you try to picture what Garmarna sounds like.’
Relatedly, he also did an omni review of Lena Willemark’s När som gräset det vajar, Ale Möller Band’s Bodjal, and Maria Kalaniemi Trio’s Tokyo Concert. Of Willemark’s release, he says: ‘I’ve heard more Nordic neo-traditional CDs than I care to think of, and I can say that this is one of the very best I’ve heard!’
Jasmine turned in an in-depth review of three albums that blend Nordic jazz and folk elements: Morild’s Dromte Mig En Drom, BNB’s Ein Song Fra Dei Utsungne Stunder, and Poul Lendal’s Ønskebarn. Her favorite was the latter, of which she said, ‘All the tunes are quite short and mostly instrumental, which makes it easier to enjoy the entertaining, wildly diverse mecum of sound as individual gems. The liner notes at the end contain a blessedly useful and interesting English blurb for each track. The album is accomplished and diverse, and I have no caveats whatsoever: in fact, go ye and buy this frolic of an education.’
Judith had thoughts about Arctic Paradise, a promotional CD of Finnish music. ‘The CD has culled the best of “contemporary” Finnish folk music. Some artists, like Värttinä and Wimme, are fairly well known, but others will be familiar only to Nordophiles. Interestingly, only five of the tracks are traditional music, the rest for the most part are composed in a traditional style and many are transposed and fused freely.’
Kim liked the interpretation of the music of everyone’s favorite 12th century Abbess by Swedish folk rockers Garmarna, the aptly titled Hildegard von Bingen. ‘Hildegard’s music has been preserved with notations on melody, the lyrics, and some good (depending on the piece) guesses as to what she imagined for her compositions. I’ve heard other groups attempt to communicate her music, both in “medieval” form and adapted for modern instruments, but Garmarna’s effort is the only one that really works for me, so far. Garmarna bring something of the medieval into the now, seeming to tap into the nuances within the lyrics and melodies.’
She also heartily approved of a series of compilations from NorthSide called Nordic Roots, of which she reviewed the first three volumes. ‘Not only are the artists working here a great representation of some of the most creative artists in any traditional folk genre today, but the production values are extremely high, with sophisticated arrangements and judicious use of what the studio has to offer. As someone who listens to part or all of thousands of folk music CDs each year (no kidding!), these collections are more than a breath of fresh air, they are a comfort and a balm, and they create hope in even the most jaded listener.’
Lars took on the daunting task of reviewing all 28 CDs of the Folk Music In Sweden series, many of them taken from field recordings from the 1950s and ’60s. ‘In the middle of the 1990s the Swedish National Radio together with Caprice, a record company owned by Rikskonserter, a government agency aimed at supporting live music, started a project with the aims to present a broad selection of these recordings, arranged thematically, on CD. Up to date 28 CDs have been released, sometimes in boxes with two or three CDs in each.’
Our Summer Queen, ironically, reviewed Triakel’s Vintervisor, originally intended as a Christmas album. ‘… Triakel’s second release developed a broader theme while the trio was in the studio — winter. And not just any winter, a Swedish winter. This beautiful follow-up to 1998’s eponymous Triakel celebrates not just Yuletide, but Advent, St. Stephen’s Day, New Years and Epiphany with a glorious blend of tunes and words old and new, both joyous and somber.’
Our What Not comes courtesy of the American Songwriter where Geoffrey Himes has an essay titled ‘Saying Something Human: A Look Back At The Child Ballads’ which has a lovely lead-in: ‘What do Bob Dylan’s “Barbara Allen,” Doc Watson’s “Matty Groves,” Fairport Convention’s “Tam Lin,” the Fleet Foxes’ “The False Knight On The Road,” Tom Waits’ “Two Sisters,” Sam Cooke’s “The Riddle Song,” Dr. John’s “Cabbage Head,” the Carter Family’s “Sinking In The Lonesome Sea,” Jerry Garcia’s “Dreadful Wind And Rain,” Joan Baez’s “The Greenwood Side,” John Wesley Harding’s “Little Musgrave,” Anais Mitchell’s “Sir Patrick Spens,” Sam Amidon’s “How Come That Blood” and Steeleye Span’s “Lord Randall” have in common?’
‘Nghtfaeries’, our coda music this time, comes courtesy of Paul Brandon, author of one of my favorite novels, Swim The Moon. It’s by Sunas which is one of his bands which he founded in Brisbane, his home city. I do believe it’s a splendid note to end this edition on.
A Kinrowan Estate story: Biscuits
No, not the biscuits we have here in Scotland and the rest of the British Isles which Americans call cookies of one sort or another, but rather what Americans do call a biscuit. There’s simply nothing better then the smell of the biscuits baking in the kitchen, and they are sure to disappear as quickly as they appeared. And how they came to be a very appreciated aspect of the food here is a tale well-worth telling as I do here…
When I came here some decades back, these biscuits were already being served as a morning treat, either with warm butter and strawberry jam, or even heartier fare for a midwinter morning with cheddar cheese and smoked ham. They quickly became my favourite breakfast meal and the latter is one that I often enjoy as a lunch meal when working in cold weather.
Biscuits are simple to bake, needing only flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, butter, shortening and buttermilk. Yes buttermilk, as the visitor that introduced us to was a baker from North Carolina who worked several growing seasons for my immediate predecessor as Estate Head Gardener, Gabriella. She’d wandered over to the Kitchen very early one morning and lamenting to the staff there she sorely missed buttermilk biscuits, which caused more than a bit of confusion there as what they knew as biscuits definitely didn’t have buttermilk in them, let alone shortening.
So they started having a conversation about making the biscuits. All the ingredients were readily available save buttermilk, as we don’t have dairy cows here. Fortunately for us, we were getting our milk from Riverrun Farm and they did make buttermilk so we added it to our order for them. Tesco stocks buttermilk, so you can get it pretty much anywhere in the United Kingdom if you decided to make them.
Shortening in the States usually meant Crisco, a product that has fallen out of favour because of concerns with its trans fats. Most recipes now substitute butter, lard or other a solid fat in its place. After that, the secret, such as it is, is the same thing with anything that takes skill: practice, practice, and more practice. The trickiest aspect of making great biscuits is folding the dough into as many thin layers as possible, usually six to eight.
Baking is done on a greased cookie sheet, preheated to four-fifty, and bake until the tops are golden from the butter you’ve brushed on top. I haven’t bothered with a full recipe here as there’s any number of good ones online.
They proved to be a hit with, well, almost everyone on the Estate. The Kitchen makes six to eight dozen every morning now, many more when strawberry shortcake season is upon us. Oh and we use fresh churned Madagascar vanilla ice cream instead of whipped cream in that dessert.
Come join me in the Kitchen as I can smell the biscuits all the way from here. I’ll promise one of these, either savoury or sweet, with a cup of coffee or tea is a most satisfying breakfast!