Jeff Wayne's Musical Version of the War of the Worlds

The chances of anything coming from Mars

Are a million to one, he said.

Are a million to one, but still - they come...

A Brief History

On the 9th of June, 1978, accompanied by a glittering multimedia launch at the London Planetarium, Jeff Wayne's musical version of The War Of The Worlds was unleashed. Taken from a slightly modified version of H.G. Wells' 1898 science fiction book, the album could in no way hope to equal the success of Wells' seminal novel, considered by many to have begun the modern sci-fi genre. Nevertheless, the musical version immediately entered the UK Album Charts and stayed there for over six years, going multi-platinum in the process.

Its success is not limited merely to the UK, either. The standard release was available around the world, and in Australia it performed particularly well, achieving 12 times platinum status and managing a seven week stretch at number one. The American Billboard Charts featured War Of The Worlds for seven months, and produced sales in excess of 475,000 albums.

Add to this a variety of other versions, including a Latin American version featuring Anthony Quinn, a Spanish version and a German edition with Curt Jurgens, all of which were released three years after the original work, and all of which went on to promote the original album's success. In Spain, with the original language version of number seven and the new Spanish version at number one, the related single release of The Eve Of The War shot into the singles chart at number one.

The Eve Of The War was not the only single release: Forever Autumn also made an independent outing, and even enjoyed a slight revival as Ben Liebrand offered a remixed and revamped version for the 1989 dance scene. Indeed, since 1978, the album has offered considerable material for artists wishing to cover not only The Eve Of The War, but many other aspects of the album. Indeed, a recent release, ULLAdubULLA, offered a remix of the entire album, featuring contemporary DJs such as Hybrid and Todd Terry, presided over and compiled by none other than Jeff Wayne himself.

Between these two extremes, however, lies a success story that can be measured by the plethora of awards received by Wayne and the album itself, including Best Recording In Science Fiction, Horror and Fantasy (awarded in 1979) and number 30 of the Best Selling 100 Albums Of The Past 25 Years from BBC Radio 1. Recent re-releases on the CD format have done unexpectedly well, and the album seems to have an enduring appeal despite its occasionally dated prog-rock sound.

The Performance And The Performers

The actual music of the War Of The Worlds was composed, orchestrated, conducted and produced entirely by Jeff Wayne. Assistance with the libretto was provided by Gary Osborne and Paul Vigrass, and the actual script was based, by Doreen Wayne upon H.G. Wells' original novel.

The album consists of long instrumental pieces, linked with short vignettes of spoken narrative and the occasional song. Richard Burton plays the part of the journalist, the witness to the events of the martian invasion of earth. Other roles in the story include an Artilleryman, played by David Essex and the parson, Nathaniel, who is played by Phil Lynott, familiar to many from his involvement with Thin Lizzy. Julie Covington played the brief but important role of Beth, and further vocals were provided by Chris Thompson and Justin Hayward, the latter of whom released a single version of Forever Autumn.

The story itself is remarkably faithful to Wells' original, though there is an unusual inclusion of Carrie, the journalist's sweetheart and reason for travelling to London. Similarly, there are minor differences with the scene involving the parson, though none of these differences are as great as those made in, for example, the 1953movie. As a whole, the album hangs together coherently, and Wells' vision remains intact.

Originally a two-LP set, the War Of The Worlds is split into two discs: The Coming Of The Martians and Earth Under The Martians. The first side tells of the cylinder arriving on Earth, unscrewing to reveal a terrible creature, glistening like wet leather, rising up to sweep the surrounding countryside with its terrible, deadly heat ray. The cylinder unscrews, slowly and ominously, pumped straight into our ears, and Wayne wastes no opportunity to link the music and events together perfectly.

Side two opens with The Artilleryman and the Fighting Machine, in which we learn of the terrible power of the Martian fighting machines, and the journalist meets the young artilleryman. It is here, too, that the danger to Carrie becomes apparent, and the journalist makes his way down to London where he witnesses her escape on a steamer, and the subsequent defeat of the war ship Thunderchild by Martian fighting machines. Thus at the end of this second side the earth is enslaved to the Martians.

Side three, the second LP, introduces the red weed with slow, New World Symphony-like themes, before spilling into the frenzied, desperate encounter with the parson and Beth. A reprise of the red weed theme ends the third side with a despondent, futile feel. On the final side we meet the artilleryman once more, who this time has grand plans for a underground society. Alas, his plans do not match his work ethic, and the piece Dead London leaves us with a chilled vision of the Earth under the rule of the Martians.

The ending of the book must be familiar to all. If the reader is unfamiliar with the final outcome of the tale then it would be unwise to read further. It is at this point that bacteria come to mankind's rescue, and the first epilogue rounds the album off with a triumphant return to everyday life.

At this point, the story itself is finished. And yet with a touch of genius, Wayne moves us on to 1999, and the second part of the epilogue takes place: an incredibly chilling radio broadcast from NASA as their mission to Mars goes terribly, terribly wrong, and green flares once more erupt from the surface of the planet. It's an ending with the potential for disaster - a classic bad sci-fi film ending, but in this case it works, and it works well.

Tracklist:

1. The Eve of the War (9:06)
2. Horsell Common and the Heat Ray (11:36)

3. The Artilleryman and the Fighting Machine (10:28)
4. Forever Autumn (7:55)
5. Thunder Child (6:02)

6. The Red Weed (Part 1) (5:51)
7. The Spirit of Man (11:36)
8. The Red Weed (Part 2) (7:00)

9. Brave New World (12:08)
10. Dead London (8:37)
11. Epilogue (Parts 1 and 2) (4:35)

The tracklist as above, split into four sections, indicates the four original LPs. For the later CD releases, tracks 1 to 5 appeared on CD one, and the remaining tracks on CD two. Later, a further CD version with three extra remixes also appeared, further complicating the track arrangement. For good measure, a highlights CD is also available, edited down to a single compact disc. The recent remix album, ULLAdubULLA is also available as a double CD set, though original promo CDs featured an entirely different single compact disc.

The torment was ended. The people scattered over the country, desperate, leaderless, starved,

the thousands who had fled by sea including the one most dear to me;

all could return, the pulse of life growing stronger and stronger would beat again.

Sitting Ducks

Sitting Ducks is a children's picture book by Michael Bedard, originally published in the United States in 1998 by the Puttnam And Grosset Group, and later given a UK publication in 2000 by Walker Books, a company well known for high-quality picture book publishing. Several computer animated spin-off films have been released or are in the production process, and a tasteful number of merchandise products aimed, uncharacteristically, at art collectors, are available.

The book concerns an accident at the Colossal Duck Factory, where every day newly-hatched ducks roll off the assembly line, the first step on their journey to the plates of hungry alligators via the food-filled streets of Ducktown. One day, an unhatched egg rolls gently off one of the conveyor belts, leading to a most unusual friendship. Rather than hand the duck in, the worker alligator who discovers the little duck, his head no doubt filled with visions of duck à l'orange and hoi sin sauce, slips him into his lunchbox and sneaks him home.

Left with an array of tasty snacks each day, the alligator's plan goes extremely well, until that fateful moment the alligator realises that their growing friendship precludes the possibility of a tasty, duck-based meal later on. Of course, later on in the book the little duck wanders merrily through town, encountering something nasty in the Decoy Café along the way, thus discovering the horrible truth about Ducktown, alligators and the cruel reality of the food chain.

One cunning plan later, and the liberation of Ducktown begins. Fly or die! is the message, and eventually, after plenty of hard work, that's just what happens, and the Southern decadence of the Flapping Arms Seaside Resort becomes the new home of several thousand ducks and one (just one!) alligator.

The story, though witty and fantastic, pales into insignificance beside Bedard's art work. With smooth, airbrushed photo-realistic look, each page adds immeasurably to the story. Take, for example, the vastness of the factory, in the midst of which is a small, curious duck, his two black dot eyes somehow conveying utter astonishment and completely guilelessness. And speaking of facial expression, don't forget to take in the other diners at the restaurant when, in an awkward moment, the two friends are offered today's special: duck soup.

The best images in the book, however, surely has to be those which pay tribute to other, well-known works of art. Poker-playing dogs are replaced by a table of anthropomorphised ducks, expressing utter disbelief at the Decoy Café menu, and the little duck with his small bowl of popcorn is only missing a duck hide in the corner to be a perfect tribute to Gary Larson's The Far Side cartoon.

Of course, such in-jokes tempt one to believe that the book is not aimed at children at all. The closer look at the theme which, though extremely amusing on the surface, is suspiciously well-crafted adds to the suspicion that that the whole story is some sort of samizdat manifesto for change. It has everything: oppressed minorities, a powerful worker caste controlling the means of production, segregated ghettos for the minority and, what's more, the duck and the alligator sleep in the same bed with their arms round each other. Like Mao Tse Duck said, change must come at the barrel of a gun...

But, no, it's just a children's book, surely? Just a children's book... but a damn good one at at that.

Clive Barker

"I have seen the future of horror and his name is Clive Barker." Stephen King

Born on October 5th 1952 in Liverpool, England, Clive Barker is a man of many talents. Probably known best as an author and secondly as a director, Barker is also a talented artist, and even forages into the realms of designer.

Barker has been openly gay for some time, though the gay main character in the novel Sacrament is what really brought his sexuality into the public eye. He lives with his partner, the photographer David Armstrong, and his daughter Nicole. They share their house with a small zoo of animals, including a parrot which shares the same name as a character from Abarat: Malingo.

Writing

It was his writing that first brought him to the attention of Stephen King, leading to the above quote. The Books Of Blood consists of six volumes of short fiction, each of which explores themes of sexuality, fantasy andmystery with a clear link to horror. There are stories which tell of a race against hell itself, of mysterious islands where the dead gather. Races of strange creatures co-exist in remote areas of the world, in a dusty settlement somewhere the future of the world is decided by old men playing dice, and in the depths of the modern city lie the grotesque city fathers, demanding blood sacrifice for the continued wellbeing of the city.

Barker's early stuff is pure horror, but intelligent stuff. Rarely, if ever, does Barker descend into cheap and easy blasphemy, the great temptation for all horror writers and a cliché early James Herbert utterly fails to avoid. Instead of casting aspersions on what is, Barker specialises in the creation of complex fantastic worlds, bursting with original - and often unpleasant - ideas. This tendency became even clearer as Barker's career progressed:Imajica and Abarat both feature undeniable elements of horror, but this element of the grotesque takes place as a backdrop for a hidden fantasy world of beauty and wonder.

Many lament Barker's turn towards such fantasy: Barker now describes himself as a fabulist, telling fables primarily to enthrall, though his nature is such that he cannot easily shy away from horror. Even the Abarat Quartet, a series of works aimed at teenage children features stitchlings (little, sewn-together monstrosities), along with a group of vicious hive-minded creatures and Christopher Carrion, the Lord of Midnight.
It would be interesting, were it possible, to ask Steve King if the future turned out quite as he anticipated. I like to think it turned out better, though you'll find, as always, opinion varies...

Movies

One of the most enduring images of horror: a leather-clad man with his face sectioned into squares by deep incisions, a pin driven firmly into each severed intersection, is the creation of Clive Barker. Pinhead, as he is affectionately known, is the chief character of 1987's horror success: Hellraiser. Based on an earlier novella, The Hellbound Heart, it was not Barker's first film, though it remains his most successful. Earlier movies, The Forbidden and Salome are experimental art movies, and aside from a whirling, naked Clive Barker with an obvious erection, hold little of interest for the majority of us. Rawhead Rex was an early adaptation of a Books Of Blood story, which is far eclipsed by Bernard Rose's adaptation of Candyman.

Nightbreed, an adaptation of the novella Cabal, was intended to eclipse the success of Hellraiser. Ultimately, despite a plethora of cutting-edge special effects, a soundtrack by Danny Elfman and an amazing quantity ofpromotion and tie-ins, the film failed dismally. Barker was disappointed, but undeterred. Lord Of Illusions, starring Quantum Leap's Scott Bakula did little better; a shame, for Lord Of Illusions is an intelligent and enjoyable piece of horror.

Artwork

Barker is a bold visual artist. His work, unsurprisingly, features strong elements of graphic horror and brutal, often disturbing sex. A series of strangely beautiful symmetrical ink drawings accompanied his novellaCabal, and The Thief Of Always, too, features painstaking beautiful illustrations throughout.

Two books, Illustrator and Illustrator 2, give full details and many examples of Barker's illustration work, while the books of Abarat feature page after page of full colour images.

Independent exhibitions also provide opportunities to sample, or even purchase, Barker's work. Until recently the Bess Cutler Gallery handled much of Clive's work, though now Luna7 provides access to what little of his work is currently available.

Recently, Barker has begun to collaborate more with his partner, either painting on models before they are photographed or writing prose to accompany their image. Armstrong's book Rare Flesh is an excellent source of these collaborations.

Other Projects

Undying, a game developed by DreamWorks Interactive provided Barker with an opportunity to create a new mythology and enhance it with interactive aspects. Similar in many ways to games like Quake or Alice, Barker placed an emphasis on a strong storyline and, as a result, the game plays as a chilling, interactive short story.

Recently, McFarlane Toys have begun producing a series of collectible figures. Tortured Souls, as they are known, bear some resemblance to the cenobites from Hellraiser.

Works:

Novels:

1985 The Damnation Game
A complex story which would fit well amongst the shorter works featured in the Books Of Blood. A gambler takes on the role of bodyguard to Joseph Whitehead, unaware that Whitehead's power is due to the exchange of his immortal soul. Classic Barker horror.

1986 The Hellbound Heart
Forming the basis for the film Hellraiser, the book's plot differs only in minor details from Clive's subsequent film version.

1987 Weaveworld
An entire world, for safety, is woven into the threads of a carpet. The scourge, sworn enemy of the inhabitants of the Weaveworld is desperately sought by a small but dedicated group of individuals determined to see the Weaveworld destroyed.

1988 Cabal
Later to become the film Nightbreed, Cabal follows a similar but less complex plot to Weaveworld; a hidden, grotesque society is threatened by outsiders, bent upon its destruction.

1989 The Great and Secret Show
Subtitled 'The First Book Of The Art', The Great And Secret Show is the beginning of an epic tale of magic, mingled with the mundane, hinting at a secret core to reality which underpins and affects everything. Great power is to be had, but it is inevitable that such power can be used for evil, as well as good.

1991 Imajica
Easily Clive's most complex and imaginative work. An entire set of worlds are introduced, and we travel through them with two of the characters, encountering a vast array of imaginative creatures and individuals. Imajica is an intense and amazing work, and its influence on Clive's later works, particularly the Abarat series, is obvious.

1992 The Thief of Always
Aimed squarely at children, yet still retaining a grim and unpleasant undertone, this book features Harvey Swick, who longs for adventure. The holiday home he is spirited away to has more than a few dark secrets, however.

1994 Everville
The second book of the art, which expands further on The Great And Secret Show, and also sees the involvement of Harry d'Amour, Barker's private detective character who appears in his film Lord Of Illusions.

1996 Sacrament
A metaphysical air surrounds this novel, which brought Clive's sexuality to the public's attention in no small way. Dealing with animal extinction, homosexuality and two mysterious and quite deadly individuals, this is an intense and compelling tale.

1998 Galilee
Described as a romance, Clive experiments with a family saga, though as one might expect, the family has more than a few dark secrets, and there's a refreshing amount of magic involved.

2001 Coldheart Canyon
Hollywood, sex, dead stars and disturbing creatures.

2002 Abarat
2004 Abarat: Days of Magic, Nights of War
Forming two of a proposed quartet, the Abarat books feature an imaginary world not dissimilar to that of the Imajica. Aimed at children, however, the horrific nature of Imajica's worlds are toned down somewhat, though the imaginative and creative element is still strong.

Collections:

1984-1985 Books of Blood 1 - 6
1987 In the Flesh
1987 The Inhuman Condition
1991 Clive Barker, Illustrator
1993 Illustrator II: The Art of Clive Barker
1995 Incarnations: Three Plays
1996 Forms of Heaven: Three Plays

Films:

The Forbidden
Salome
These two early films are experimental pieces, showing Clive's interest in film but with little potential for mainstream success.

Rawhead Rex
Based on the story of the same name from the Books Of Blood.

Hellraiser
Barker's first successful mainstream film, for which he wrote and directed.

Nightbreed
Less successful than Hellraiser, this second film was nevertheless a minor hit in cinemas and spawned the usual plethora of merchandise. Ultimately, however, it has failed to achieve long-term appreciation.

Lord Of Illusions
Again directed and written by Barker himself, and an enjoyable film in its own right, this too failed to make much of a splash.

Gods and Monsters
This film is a biopic of the life of gay film director James Whale. A wonderful, engrossing film, directed by Bill Condon with Clive taking the role of executive producer.

Biographies:

2002 Clive Barker: The Dark Fantastic by Douglas E. Winter


Website:
www.clivebarker.info
www.clivebarker.com

Black Hearts In Battersea

Hot on the heels of Joan Aiken's The Wolves Of Willoughby Chase comes Black Hearts In Battersea. Simon, the resourceful, heroic young boy from Willoughby Chase was, at the end of the first book, just getting into art. On his way now to London to study painting he, unfortunately, stumbles onto a plot reminiscent of the first book.

Wicked assassins are planning to overthrow King James and the Duke and Duchess of Battersea. A diverse and twisted plot ensues, featuring all the things children are sure to love: more wild wolves, excessive kidnappings, a shipwreck and a range of poisoned pies all make an appearance.

Bonnie and Sylvia have a minor role in the story, but most of it takes place in the company of Simon and Dido Twite, another of those waif-like children Joan Aiken seems to enjoy depicting so much.

Joan Aiken was born in Sussex, England, and her clear enjoyment of the English culture is plain: her subtle and gentle poking of fun at the English establishment works well as she continues to explore her alternate history where the Stuarts have retained the throne and a Channel Tunnel already exists. Those who have read The Wolves Of Willoughby Chase will undoubtedly wish to continue the experience; those who have not would do well to seek out Willoughby Chase, though each book will, of course, stand alone.

Explorers Of The New Century - Magnus Mills

Explorers Of The New Century is a novel by Magnus Mills, orignially published in 1995. It's his fifth novel, and conforms perfectly to the style of Mills' previous works while maintaining a quite obvious distance. This style is a complex one. Mills has been compared to Kafka, and with good reason. Allegory, banality and comedy mix together in Mr Mills' prose, which is so descriptive and yet so deceptive. Don't miss a word - they're all important and, looking back once you've finished each novel, you'll see just how much a single, throwaway phrase can matter.

In the meantime, just enjoy the words. Mills conjures up a parallel world of Pinter-esque horror, situations far from modern reality and yet curiously reminiscent of normal, everyday life. I recently re-read Explorers Of The New Century in one afternoon. Once again, the progression of the story blew me away. It is allegory, pure and simple, although the actual meaning of the story is more difficult to define. Ostensibly about a simple expedition to the 'agreed farthest point', with the book even designed to look like a Victorian hardback adventure novel. And yet there's far more going on, hinted at with an underlying tension to the interactions between the characters. There are plot twists, too - great wrenching twists that you simply don't see coming at all. No spoilers, I'm afraid: you're going to have to read it.

Explorers Of The New Century was published in 1995 by Bloomsbury. Its ISBN is 0747580189 (Hardback), and I'm afraid that while it's in print and available to buy, Bookmooch copies are scarce.

Brian Yuzna

Brian Yuzna's career is a jack-of-all-trades affair. His work as a producer, actor, screenwriter, film editor, perhaps as a result of this, has been a strange mixture of hit and miss. A clear fan of hardcore horror, much of his output is focused on HP Lovecraft's work: the classic film Re-Animator was a memorable success for Yuzna, though its spawning of a myriad forgettable sequels is less notable. Other-Lovecraft related projects include From Beyond, Dagon and Necronomicon; while never truly unsuccessful, such films never truly achieved widespread success.

Yuzna was born in the Philippines in 1951, though he was educated in Central America and the United States. His love of horror fiction was obvious from an early age, and his family's involvement in cinema is equally obvious: Brian's four children have all gone on to become actors and actresses, with varying levels of success.

Intriguingly, amongst Yuzna's filmography is the rather bizarre inclusion of Honey, I Shrunk The Kids, which he worked on in 1989 with director Joe Johnston. This family comedy was, however, a mere blip in Yuzna's career - it was swiftly followed up with Bride Of Re-Animator, the first of those dreadful sequels. The Honey, I Shrunk The Kids Disney project did mark the beginning of a collaboration with Stuart Gordon, however, who would work with Yuzna on Dagon.

Those wishing to investigate Yuzna's work for themselves would be wise to begin with Society, a subtle, psychological horror that only spills over into out-and-out gore at the very end of the film. Re-Animator, too, is well worth the time.

The Forbidden - Clive Barker

The Forbidden is a Clive Barker story which was adapted in 1992 as the film Candyman.

Clive Barker began to make his name in the field of horror in 1984 with the Books Of Blood, six volumes of short horror fiction. The Forbidden appeared in volume four, and was a lengthy tale of rumour and urban legend. It's a powerful piece of writing, and it's easy to see how it could inspire the film Candyman, directed by Bernard Rose.

It's also interesting, when reading the story, to note how the theme of the narrative focuses much more on Helen, the protagonist, than the Candyman mythos. The film is quite different in this respect, making much of the urban legend and adding the mysterious summoning ritual - the saying of Candyman's name into the mirror five times. The overall idea is the same, however, that Candyman is a force summoned by the needs of the people as a focus for their despair and misery, the character of Helen providing a conduit through which this takes place. The Forbidden also takes place in the United Kingdom, more specifically in a Liverpool housing estate, Liverpool being Clive Barker's home town. The film, of course, is moved to the projects - the Cabrini Green area of Chicago.

If you intend to track down and read the story, be aware that although the initial publication of the Books Of Blood was a series of six volumes, but now the books are generally to be found as two-volume omnibus editions. 'The Forbidden' originally appeared in Book Five, and should now, therefore, be in either a slim book marked 'Volume 5', an omnibus marked 'Volume 2', or one marked 'Volumes 4 - 6'. Best to check the contents page...

Misery Porn

'Tear jerker' - apparently that's the name for this dreadful new genre I've noticed, also known as a misery memoir or, far more descriptively, as misery porn. They're the ones with depressed kids all over the front of the book. You know how it is... one minute you're gently wheeling a trolley down the end of Tesco's cleaning aisle, the next minute you turn a corner, bravely march past an alluring display of multi-flavoured Kit-Kats, and there they are. Staring...

Row upon row of aching, soulful eyes, usually embedded in a small child's head (although there seems to be no guarantee of this), gently faded out into ghostly white. Perhaps a tear or two clusters at the corner of each eye. There are little bunches of blonde hair and a cute button nose, and oh - the titles! Daddy's Little Earner (by Maria Landon, taglined 'A heartbreaking true story of a brave little girl's escape from violence'). 'When Daddy Comes Home' (by Toni Maguire, taglined 'She finally thought she was safe').

There's more. 'Damaged', by Cathy Glass, a 'heartbreaking true story of a forgotten child'. Next to it, we have David Thomas' 'Tell Me Why, Mummy: A Little Boy's Struggle To Survive. A Mother's Shameful Secret. The Power To Forgive.' There are hundreds of them! 'Please Daddy, No' sits next to 'Don't Tell Mummy', with 'The Little Prisoner' and 'Abandoned' crying out for attention on the shelf below. 'Street Kid' and 'All In My Head' dare to branch out into the older market - the kids on the front of these ones look about nine rather than all snub-nosed and four-ish. 'The Invisible Girl', 'Daddy's Rules' and 'Cry Silent Tears'... on and on they go.

I've had enough; my eyes flick back to that first one: 'Daddy's Little Earner' - the title's probably more apt than you'd think. Child abuse: it's the new Mills And Boon.

The Fun They Had - Isaac Asimov

The Fun They Had is a short short story by Isaac Asimov. Its length of roughly one thousand words is nigh on perfect, however, for in those one thousand words Asimov produces a perfect children's story with a point that's just twisty enough for most kids. And it is aimed at children, there's no doubt, and the premise is almost laughably simple. Or it would be if the story didn't make an intriguing social comment on the nature of education as a socialising influence with such gleeful innocence.

Asimov was, apparently, rather at a loss to explain the popularity of the story, which was originally written in 1951 for a newspaper and later published in Science Fiction And Fantasy Magazine. Of course, the story's length and simplicity lends it well to school literature texts for younger readers, and the story received more requests for inclusion in anthologies than any of his other stories.

In the story, Margie finds a book. And books, in 2155, are pretty peculiar. 'I guess you throw it away once you're done with it.' her brother says, and they muse on how much better their electronic book readers are - you can use them over and over again. But this mysterious object from the attic is quite fascinating to Margie, and to Tommy too. Much more interesting, in fact, than the mechanical teacher, which Margie secretly hopes might break down forever. In Margie's book it tells her all about school, about meeting friends in the playground, about homework and sitting together with your own desk. You'll have guessed the point by now - it is aimed at children after all...

"Margie was thinking about how the kids must have loved it in the old days. She was thinking about the fun they had."

Why Did We Call Them Sperm Whales?

You probably know that spermaceti is a waxy substance which is contained within the skull of the sperm whale, and sadly often obtained from the same. It's white, and a large whale contains up to three tons of the stuff. If you can make it through to chapter seventy-eight of Moby Dick you'll become an expert in how it was extracted, and probably won't envy Tashtego falling into the depths of a whale's head whilst using a bucket to get out all the good stuff.

So, here we have a thick white, gloopy substance. And what might that remind you of, particularly if you're a sailor who's been at sea for a month and you've just thrown one over your thumb earlier that morning? And it all becomes clear: one sperm whale, containing up to three tons of spunk.

And so, we must ask - is there not a better name for the poor thing than Sperm Whale? Well, how about cachalot, the original Spanish and Portugese name for this poor, mis-titled creature. Mind you, cachalot still means 'big head', so it's not that much of an improvement... particularly when you consider the Dutch potvis, or the German pottwal, both of which reference the large head, sticking out like a pan or pot. At least they're descriptive, I suppose.

"Now, had Tashtego perished in that head, it had been a very precious perishing; smothered in the very whitest and daintiest of fragrant spermaceti; coffined, hearsed, and tombed in the secret inner chamber and sanctum sanctorum of the whale."

Astonish Yourself: 101 Experiments In The Philosophy Of Everyday Life

101 Experiments In The Philosophy Of Everyday Life: A book with an undeniably great title, at least until they shoved 'Astonish Yourself' in front of it and republished. Still, it incorporates that magical number, 101, and (more importantly) incorporates that other magical word: philosophy. A scary word, in truth, to the uninitiated, but at least it's tempered here by the words everyday life. One of those new, and currently fashionable, popular philosophy texts, the emphasis is on experimentation and fun, eschewing completely the idea of relating the book to established schools of philosophy. This will either thrill you, or disturb you, depending on whether you feel philosophy can, or indeed should have a more frivolous aspect. I suppose, on reflection, it may leave you entirely unmoved; who can say?

Each of the 101 experiments is presented in the same, simple manner. Duration, required props and the intended effect are followed by a short exposition on the experiment itself. The tasks range from deep and meaningful experiments on the relation of oneself to the universe (See The Stars Below You, in which one imagines oneself to hang above the infinite depths of space.), through to the more whimsical or potentially perverse: Watch A Woman At Her Window.

Other experiments invite you to Kill People In Your Head, in case the less serious Run In A Graveyard doesn't appeal. Whatever your state of mind, however you feel about philosophy, there is something in Roger-Pol Droit's book that you can do, whether you wish to go wild in public and Tell A Stranger She Is Beautiful, or you'd rather stay at home and Make A Wall Between Your Hands. The effect of those, if you're interested, is to induce fireworks of some description, and to cause a sense of 'doubleness'.

Roger-Pol Droit produced the original work in French, a fact which has caused at least one reviewer to dryly comment on the humorous qualities of the book, as though a Frenchman should be incapable of such wit. There is, you see, a large dose of humour involved, but however bizarre the notions are, however foolish one may feel carrying them out, the potential for philosophical thought is undeniable. It may be that the only effect is to have you thinking why, but at least that's a start. At least half of the experiments are whimsical, and to a large extent involve the utter desertion of what is considered normal behaviour. A further quarter are sinister beyond words; visualising a pile of human organs (Effect: pitiless) does not come naturally to the majority of us. Nevertheless, trying an experiment and then reading Droit's dry, insightful prose is a delightful way to indulge in a little popular philosophy. You may not agree with Droit, of course, but that's all part of the experience...

You may well be among those who have found popular philosophy to be a life-changing experience. Alain de Botton's books may crumble in your hands due to excessive re-reading (though I doubt it). It's unlikely that this will do the same, regardless. It's a wonderful book, well worth a dip into, but it's hardly a guide to living. Of course, you may be one of the enlightened few who realise that this is the whole point of popular philosophy. On the outside it's designed to appeal to the 'common man', whomever and wherever he might be, and on the inside it's supposed to afford miraculous effects with minimum exertion. Treat 101 Experiments In The Philosophy Of Everyday Life as an entertainment and you'll be fine. Expect miraculous, life-affirming experiences, and you're heading for disappointment.

Nightbreed

To begin with there was The Hellbound Heart and Cabal, both short but intense novellas by author Clive Barker. Scarcely a year later he created Hellraiser, a film version of The Hellbound Heart, producing an intelligent but gory horror. Following the success of Hellraiser - and it was a success, introducing some of the most enduring and grotesque images of horror ever seen - Clive and a Hellraiser-impressed Fox were keen to follow up with something better. That's where Cabal came in.

Naming the project after Cabal's main protagonists, the Nightbreed, Barker adapted and shaped the novella to produce a complex script involving a shadowy underworld of exiled horrors. The Nightbreed are not accepted by society; each one has killed and is, through the power of their brokendeity Baphomet, provided with some sort of power, or at least something that makes them different; the changes in question are not always beneficial. Young Aaron Boone (Craig Sheffer), carefully framed for multiple, bloody murders by his psychiatrist, Decker (reassuringly played by David Cronenberg), makes his way to Midian, 'where the monsters live'. He's followed, of course, and pretty soon Decker turns out not only to be homicidal, but genocidal, too. The monsters must die, particularly as Boone is one of them and knows Decker's secret, and thus Nightbreed becomes more than simply a horror film, taking on the role of an allegory about intolerance. Primarily, of course, it's a horror film, as shown by the make-up effects, the ambitious sets, and copious quantities of blood. It's subtle horror, too - the scene in which a family is deliberately and matter-of-factly slaughtered by Decker is chillingly plausible.

Sadly, though moderately popular on release, Nightbreed has not stood the test of time. Like Hellraiser, upon its release Nightbreed was accompanied by a range of tie-in books, computer games and comics. Unlike Hellraiser, however, it failed to spawn a sequel (although this is not necessarily a bad thing), and (more importantly) failed to produce an enduring image: Hellraiser had Pinhead, the chief Cenobite, whose pin-studded visage has since become a universal symbol of the horrific. Nightbreed has no such icon - despite its lavish sets, equally grotesque make-up effects and intelligent script, it has simply faded. A recent DVD release may go some way toward reviving it, but ultimately Nightbreed has had its chance and missed it, for whatever reason. It's a shame; maybe Nightbreed wasn't the perfect horror film, but it was by no means a bad film.

Don't forget the Danny Elfman soundtrack, either. Nightbreed was supposed to be a success - the next big Barker movie. So what went wrong? Nightbreed was dogged by unforeseen complexities. Marc Almond, given a part by Clive as a friendly gesture, was later forced to pull out, leaving the film with one Almond-sized full body prosthetic and no-one to fill it. The complex underworld of Midian was expensive to produce - all rope bridges and suspended walkways; corners had to be cut. Add to this, too, the twenty-five minutes of material Barker was forced to remove. Fox were unhappy with the explicit horror and unpleasant sexual imagery - in the original cut the Berserkers, described by other Nightbreed as 'mad bastards', were equipped with savage, penis-like heads, not dissimilar to that of Rawhead Rex in an earlier Barker film. Add to this mix, also, more than a little overacting on the part of Hugh Ross, and some dreadful eighties hair on the part of Anne Bobby.

The end of Nightbreed clearly leaves the way open for a sequel. It is unlikely to ever appear, of course, but just in case, the DVD edition is readily available. Now may very well be the time to acquaint yourself with the novella Cabal, closely followed by the film...

Nightbreed was directed by Clive Barker and produced by Gabriella Martinelli and Joe Roth. It was released in 1990 featuring the acting talents of Craig Sheffer as Aaron Boone, Anne Bobby as Lori Desinger and David Cronenberg as Dr. Philip Decker. The music, released on CD but difficult to obtain, was composed by Danny Elfman.

The First Blast Of The Trumpet Against The Monstrous Regiment Of Women

"I affirm that to promote a woman to bear rule or empire above any realm, nation, or city, is repugnant to nature, contumely to God, and a thing most contrary to his revealed and approved ordinance..."

The First Blast Of The Trumpet Against The Monstrous Regiment Of Women is a treatise by the Protestant John Knox which, quite simply, warns of the inherent dangers of allowing women to take positions of authority. It is, undoubtedly, Knox's most famous work, though its message is outdated and seems almost naïve. Indeed, the text is now more valued as an example of post-medieval misogyny rather than a definitive warning of the evils of feminine power.

The treatise itself is wordy, obsessive about minutiae and filled with an array of scriptural, historical and religious quotes, all of which are used to espouse Knox's main point: 'I am assured that God has revealed to some in this our age, that it is more than a monster in nature that a woman shall reign and have empire above man'. The abundance of alternate sources he quotes does little aside from show the long and drawn out history of opposition to the rule of women. Ultimately, the whole work comes across as the fervent ravings of a madman, though in truth Knox was merely recording the general attitude of the time.

The treatise itself begins with a preface, in which Knox outlines the religious background to his viewpoint. It moves on, albeit at a snail's pace, to sound the first blast, aimed (according to Knox's title) at 'women degenerate'. The empire of women is, he tells us, degenerate to nature, contrary to the revealed will of God. What's more, it is subversive of good order, equity and justice. Expecting trouble, Knox then answers some common objections bandied by less-clear thinkers. This section is almost as long as the first sections combined, and is followed by a conclusion. The contents of his conclusion will come as no surprise, and it ends, quite simply, with 'Praise God, ye that fear him.' It appears there can be, at least in Knox's mind, no possible argument against the divine truth of his words.

Knox's work was published in Geneva in 1558, and was initially an anonymous publication. The 'first blast' was to be followed by two more works, and Knox intended to reveal his identity on the publication of the triumphant third blast. His two sequels remained unwritten, however, although a short summary of his intended subject matter was later published.

The full text is available at http://www.swrb.ab.ca/newslett/actualNLs/firblast.htm

The First Blast Of The Trumpet Against The Monstrous Regiment Of Women is, of course, the inspiration for Terry Pratchett's Discworld novel Monstrous Regiment. (Well, the inspiration for the title, at least, although you can see the thematic links...)

Castle Rock, Maine

Castle Rock is a fictional small town which is featured prominently in a number of Stephen King works. It is first introduced in The Dead Zone, where unwilling psychic Johnny Smith is drawn into the search for a murderer. The man in question, when discovered, is none other than... well, you don't want me to spoil it, do you?

Anyway, Castle Rock's Sheriff Bannerman, having recovered from this unmentioned incident, later reappears in Cujo, which takes place entirely in the town. Following this, The Dark Half, The Sun Dog and Needful Things all take place within the boundaries of this rather beleaguered location.

Thankfully, the residents of Castle Rock can breathe a sigh of relief: Needful Things was subtitled The Last Castle Rock Story, and although references to the town pop up in Gerald's Game, Bag Of Bones and King's latest (massive!) Under The Dome, a rewrite of It Grows On You from the short story collection Nightmares And Dreamscapes forms the final glimpse of Castle Rock as a main location.

Castle Rock Entertainment is also the film company that has produced several Stephen King adaptations: Misery, Hearts In Atlantis and Dreamcatcher being notable successes. Despite the name, a homage chosen after success with Stand By Me (based on the novella The Body), Castle Rock Entertainment does not exclusively work on King movies. Television programmes like Seinfeld were a part of Castle Rock Entertainment's output, and other successful films including When Harry Met Sally and A Few Good Men, were also produced by the company.

Magnus Mills

Potentially the world's most famous bus driver, Magnus Mills is a British writer who was flung into literary fame upon the publication of his first novel, The Restraint Of Beasts. Restraint was published in 1998 and swiftly shortlisted for The Booker Prize as well as the Whitbread. It didn't win either, but it was nominated, nevertheless.

The Restraint Of Beasts was followed by All Quiet On The Orient Express, Three To See The King, The Scheme For Full Employment and 2005's Explorers Of The New Century. Additionally, two collections of short stories are available, Only When The Sun Shines Brightly and Once In A Blue Moon. The two books of short stories are particularly notable for their extreme shortness and diminutive size: both books are published by Acorn Book Company, an independent publisher who specialise in what are described as 'small, high-quality editions'. At less than a hundred pages each and with dimensions more akin to a pocket diary than a book of short stories, they are indeed high quality and somehow incite the reader to treat them with a strange reverence.

It may well be argued that five novels is more than enough space in which to establish a style, and one might well be impressed that the works can immediately be identified as Mills' work: compared to Kafka, occasionally mentioned by Thomas Pynchon and with an undeniably sense ofotherness caused by the close meshing of the surreal and the mundane. Manage this within two books, however, and the establishment of such a style can lead to what is described as critical acclaim.

When it comes to critical acclaim, then, the whole point appears to be this way in which Mills' takes a range of mundane, everyday situations (paying considerable homage to his working-class background) and places his character (or characters) in an unrelenting stream of peculiarity, often with a splash of wickedly dark humour to help keep the reader on track. It seems to happen in every book, and despite the enjoyment gained one is led to wonder just how hard it can be to create a slow, growing dread; a realisation that everything is reaching a point of utter horror but in a most cheerful, everyday sort of way.

It would be unfair to delve further into the plot of the novels. Each one is a masterfully-crafted affair, in which a single, significant event is almost dismissed by the reader only for the very last chapter of the novel to reveal its significance. There's a sense of everything falling apart, hinged on this single event, and a realisation, as in Kafka's work, that we struggle eternally against forces we can never truly hope to understand.

That said, they're an excellent way to spend a Saturday afternoon, accompanied by a mug of coffee and a packet of biscuits. Start with The Restraint Of Beasts, and continue...

The Veldt - Ray Bradbury

The Veldt is a short horror story, part of the 1951 anthology The Illustrated Man, written by American author Ray Bradbury. It fits neatly amongst other Bradbury works which explore the peculiar relationships engendered by parenthood. Like The Small Assassin, in The Veldt two perfectly loving parents come under threat from their offspring and, forced ultimately by the blind trust of parental instinct, forfeit their lives: Bradbury's point being that although on the surface parents appear to control their children, without realising it parents are perhaps in reality controlled more by their children through instinct and, indeed, love. No-one would dare believe their children would kill them just to get their own way.
The veldt in question is a classic, dusty grassland of southern Africa, inhabited by the appropriate fauna and generated in its entirety by the Nursery, a computer-controlled playroom for the children. It's not actually real, and nor are the lions, though no-one seems to have told them that. It's not supposed to be generating a veldt, of course, so with the playroom going wrong like that, it's quite natural to venture in and investigate. Finding your partner's bloody bones on the floor ought to hint that something's not quite right, but... well, then it's too late; the kids had to do something to stop you turning the damn thing off.
It's a good story. Seek it out and read it... it will not be hard to find. Bradbury is an immensely popular writer, and for good reason.