I sipped my own coffee, heavy on the sugar and cream, trying to make up for the late work the night before. Caffeine and sugar, the two basic food groups. — Laurell K. Hamilton’s Cerulean Sins
Ahhh that heavenly aroma is coming from the Kitchen, which is making the coffee this fine late Spring morning with Komodo Dragon coffee beans that they roast themselves. It’s an Indonesia bean that Ingrid, my wife who kept her job of being the Estate Buying Agent when she become our Steward, found several years back when we were in that country. It’s been a favourite around here ever since.
It’s entirely possible that you’ve noted our fascination with all things consumable. Be it a British TV series such as Two Fat Ladies, an exploration of Scottish whisky distilleries, the perfect Scottish fry-up, a cracking good chocolate bar, preferably dark, or perhaps a look at bourbon, America’s whisky as it’s been called, we never pass up an opportunity to do a review wherever possible. So look for more such reviews here.
Lambing season is wrapping up here on the Kinrowan Estate, but I remember that Sleeping Hedgehog, our in-house newsletter, had an article on the care and feeding of the tenders of the ewes. Let me see if I can find it while you read this edition…
Cat looks at Jerry Pournelle and Larry Niven’s The Mote in God’s Eye which he say of that ‘Until the likes of Iain M. Banks with The Culture series and Neal Asher with the Polity series came along, quite possibly the best Space Opera of all time was this forty year-old novel that took the Space Opera novels of the 1930s and 1940s and very, very nicely updated them.’
Gary reviews a book of literary criticism about Iain M. Banks Culture series. He says Simone Caroti’s The Culture Series ‘is valuable reading for anyone who wants to move into a deeper understanding of what that series is really about, where it stands in the history of SF and literature, and why it’s important.’
Gary also reviewed a recent SF anthology called The New Space Opera: ‘Of course, “space opera” is what all science fiction used to be, up until about the 1970s or so. Thrilling tales of adventure in outer space, usually featuring huge starships, weird aliens, strange planets and battles, either physical or of wits.’
Joel looks at Neal Asher’s Gridlinked, a space opera of sorts that’s a novel in The Polity series which has been running a lot longer than The Culture series did: ‘I’ve never been one for long series, and certainly the greater part of my reading time is spent on authors I’m encountering for the first time, rather than always going with the same old stand-bys, but what can I say? I get something new in the Polity universe and I know it will always be good. When it comes to escapist fiction, Neal Asher has become my most dependable travel guide. No surprise then I moved him to the top of my reading pile.’
Robert came up with a series that is quintessential space opera, with a twist: C. J. Cherryh’s The Chanur Saga, including Chanur’s Homecoming, and the sequel, Chanur’s Legacy: ‘C. J. Cherryh’s The Chanur Saga is an almost-omnibus edition of her tetralogy about Pyanfar Chanur and her ship, the interstellar trader The Pride of Chanur. Because of length, the “omnibus” volume contains the first three in the series . . . , and one would be well-advised to be sure that Chanur’s Homecoming, issued separately, is within easy reach, lest one be left hanging off a cliff.’
It’s not a film but this novel is what happens when a series, no matter how short-lived, becomes beloved by legions of viewers. Firefly was a one-season space opera created by Joss Whedon that was brilliant. Unfortunately the network didn’t think the ratings were good enough, so they killed it after a single season, though they wrapped it up in a movie called Serenity. Stephen Brust, a writer many of you will know, wrote My Own Kind of Freedom and Cat says it’s quite true to the series.
And Robert, having been a Star Trek fan in his younger days, has a look at one of the reboot films, Star Trek: Into Darkness: ‘I’ve sort of lost track of Star Trek, after being glued to the TV every week in my younger days, as Gene Rodenberry’s original series was airing. Strangely enough, the last Star Trek movie I saw was The Wrath of Khan. (If that’s a spoiler, well, life is like that.) Let me say right off the bat that Star Trek: Into Darkness is not that.’
Cat R. got the chance to sample a whole bunch of chocolate bars from Chuao Chocolatier: ‘Here in America we like our add-ins, ice cream and candy full of other candy, nuts, random sweets, and sometimes savories. Chuao (pronounced Chew-WOW) has a shelf-load of such, chocolate bars with all the goodies, created by Venezuelan chef Michael Antonorsi.’
Denise digs into a chocolate bar for this edition; someone’s got to do the dirty work, she explains. Her look at Godiva’s Dark Chocolate Almond bar may have you looking elsewhere though. ‘Good chocolate is good chocolate. Unfortunately for Godiva, this bar is only fair to middling.’
Warren Ellis & J. H. Williams III’s Desolation Jones has, says Richard, ‘The long shadow of John Constantine lingers over the figure of Desolation Jones. But whereas Constantine is a spiky-haired Brit occult operative who abuses his odd network of friends while intimidating people into giving him answers by sheer force of personality, Jones is a spiky-haired Brit ex-spook who abuses his odd network of friends while intimidating people into giving him answers by sheer force of personality.’
Gary reviews Absence by a jazz trio led by Estonian pianist Kristjan Randalu. ‘The son of two classical pianists, born in Estonia but raised in Germany, [Randalu] grew up playing classical piano himself until he heard Chick Corea’s Inside Out when he was 13 years old.’
Gary had a lot of fun listening to the debut recording of The Turbans, a multi-cultural group whose music is a heady mix of European and Levantine styles and much more. ‘The Turbans bring a passionate spirit of adventure and an infectious liveliness to their music. Even if you can’t understand the lyrics – which are in up to a half-dozen languages – it’s impossible to not be captured by their joy.’
Ranarop — Call of the Sea Witch is a recording Iain really liked — ‘Gjallarhorn is a foursome from Ostrobothnia, the Swedish speaking area of Finland. They are tightly bound to both folk music traditions, and ancient mythology. Musically, the band is a mixture of fiddle, mandola, didgeridoo, and percussion, with vocals provided by Jenny Wilhelms. Ranarop is an amazing album, with a singular sound which makes the band appear to be larger than it is.’
Jayme looks at what I’d say is essential listening for Celtic music fans: ‘There’s no gloss and polish here like you’d find on, say, an Altan disc, no studio jiggery and double-tracked harmonies that are so commonplace on a Clannad release. Not that those are necessarily bad things, mind you, but every one of the 11 tracks on The Best of Silly Wizard sound like they were recorded in one take in the studio, with the entire band playing at once, rather than the more common practice of laying down each instrument separately and mixing later. Now, I don’t know if that’s actually the way Silly Wizard recorded the music here, but the end result is that the music has all the punch and immediacy of a live performance, with none of the drawbacks that the raw sound of live shows often suffer from.’
Our What Not this week is one that should be dear to the heart of anyone who writes — or at least, anyone who is not tied to a keyboard. Cat R. brings us a look at a line of disposable fountain pens. Yes, that’s right: fountain pens.
I’ll take your leave now with some music and ‘A Tune For Mairéad And Anna’ is my choice for your listening pleasure as that was what Iain was playing in the Library when I psssed by earlier this afternoon. This was taken from a Altman performance listed as a Folkadelphia Session on the seventh of March just three years ago.



What’s New for the 1st of January: music from Sunas, banana French toast, music in fiction and other matters…
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne?
Robert Burns
But first breakfast. For me, coffee with a splash of cream, eggs with applewood smoked bacon and Riverrun Farm feta along with a blueberry muffin grilled in Riverrun butter on the stove. That should do nicely. Just ask the staff for whatever you want as they’re used to personal requests.
I see that there’s several musos playing quietly in the sitting nook here in the Kitchen — that’s a Mícheál Ó’Domhnaill composition called ‘The Cricket’s Wicket’ which he composed for Nightnoise. They’re playing on a violin and a viola which I must say sounds very sweet.
So shall we see what’s in this edition?
I was thinking about fiction where music plays a strong role in the story with the prime example being Charles de Lint’s The Little Country where the protagonist, Janey Little plays smallpipes in the style of Billy Pigg, the Northumbrian piper. The back of the novel has the tunes that the author composed for this novel.
Music is also central in de Lint’s Greenmantle, although its effects can be somewhat of a mixed bag: it’s about a piper in a hidden village, and a Stag, and the Wild Hunt, and how music brings out what is deepest in our souls.
Emma Bull’s War for The Oaks with a battle between the Fey and some of we mortal humans that is settled using music on Midsummers Eve. It also features music from Cats Laughing, or perhaps Cats Laughing plays music from the novel. I’ll need to ask Will Shetterly which it is… Ahhh he says the band comes after the novel. Oh and we’ve got the trailer made for a film version of the novel didn’t happen which has some of the music in the novel.
Of course Patricia McKillip’s The Riddle-Master of Hed has harps and harpers at the centre of its story. And it won McKillip a World Fantasy Award as it bloody well should’ve given how good it is!
Music is even more important in McKillip’s The Bards of Bone Plain, as Robert makes clear: ‘I’ve noted before the importance of music in the works of Patricia McKillip. I’ve probably also said something about the poetic quality of her writing. I know I’ve mentioned the way magic infuses her stories, context rather than event. That’s all here, in The Bards of Bone Plain, a story about poetry and music and magic.’
Steven Brust, a musician himself, brings us, in collaboration with Megan Lindholm, The Gypsy, which — well, as Robert puts it: ‘There are three brothers who have become separated. They are the Raven, the Owl, and the Dove. Or perhaps they are Raymond, Daniel, and Charlie. They are probably Baroly, Hollo, and Csucskari. One plays the fiddle, one plays tambourine, and one has a knife with a purpose.’ There’s a lot more to it, of course, so check it out.
Finally I’d add a mainstream affair of which Gary says the central character of the novel, Salman Rushdie’s The Ground Beneath Her Feet, is the music. Sounds interesting to me!
April has two recordings to recommend to you: ‘One of Scotland’s more endearing — and enduring — bands, Capercaillie (named, curiously, for a particularly large species of Scottish grouse) has been making beautiful music for nearly twenty years now. Formed in 1984 by Donald Shaw, Karen Matheson and Marc Duff, Capercaillie has seen a few line-up changes, and some adventuresome musical wanderings (club remixes and world music!), yet has remained true to its Scottish roots. Capercaillie’s work has been heard not only on the radio, but in the movie Rob Roy, and in a host of BBC television series. Their 1998 compilation CD, Dusk Till Dawn, and vocalist Karen Matheson’s 1996 solo effort, The Dreaming Sea, are the perfect introduction to the band’s sound and history.’
It seems only fitting to take a look at Boiled in Lead’s Songs from “The Gypsy”, seeing as how we’ve discussed the novel itself. As Robert puts it: ‘Boiled in Lead‘s Songs from The Gypsy is a collision, of sorts. That’s a metaphor, of course, but then, if you can’t speak in metaphor, you can’t talk about music.’
We seem to have several artists who are showing up in more than one category today — Charles de Lint is a musician as well as a writer, as witness his Old Blue Truck. Robert says: ‘I’m not sure what I expected Charles de Lint to sound like as a singer. Whatever it was I expected, it wasn’t what I got. We’re calling it folk/trad-singer/songwriter music, and I suppose that’s as good a description as any. There are echoes of all sorts of things. . . .” Read on to see just what he means by that.
Next is MaryAnn Harris, wife of de Lint and a most talented artist and musician in her own right, released her own EP, Crow Girls: ‘Having heard Mary Ann Harris’ backup vocals on husband Charles de Lint’s Old Blue Truck, I still wasn’t prepared for her singing on her own EP, Crow Girls. The element of surprise seems to be something the two have in common.’
Stephen finishes off our music reviews with a look at Fest Vraz: ‘Anyone who claims to love traditional music, but owns nothing from Brittany, has a gaping hole in his or her CD collection. The thirty-six tracks presented here surely represent the most complete and consistent collection of Breton music ever assembled in a package of this type. The obvious precedent and comparator for Fest Vraz is Green Linnet’s Twentieth Anniversary Collection, which assembled the likes of Altan, Silly Wizard, Dick Gaughan and The Bothy Band under one roof. While the names of the Breton artists may be less familiar to non-mainland Europeans than their Scots and Irish brethren, the diversity of this music and the sheer talent of its practitioners is every bit as jaw-slackening.’
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.