As a voracious consumer of words, sounds, motion pic-tures, and other cultural detritus I always appreciate a good recommendation. In the interest of paying it forward I’m going to periodically list some stuff I’ve enjoyed—stuff that has been jostling around in my figurative backpack.
Dinosaurs by Lydia Millet
For reasons I have trouble explaining I read a lot of debut novels. Maybe debuts get more publicity and/or larger marketing budgets? Maybe most people write one book and then give up/fail to sell the next one? Whatever the reason, reading debuts means reading books largely by or about people in their twenties. These novels often mirror the concerns of their younger authors, such as getting settled in a career, relationship, or identity. After a while all that early-life uncertainty gets a bit tiresome.
I probably heard about Dinosaurs the way I hear about most books—by glancing at book reviews and skimming lists of ‘best novels of [insert past year]’ or ‘most anticipated novels of [insert upcoming year]’ and putting the ones with interesting descriptions on hold at the Toronto Public Library. When I opened up the book I was pleased to see that Lydia Millet had thirteen other books to her name. As you’d hope, the writing is charged with the concerns and wisdom of someone who has come of age and kept on living.
Millet’s prose is lean and the narrative is fairly simple. A heartbroken, independently wealthy man moves to an Arizona suburb, volunteers at a women’s shelter, and makes friends with his neighbours. Over the course of the novel you learn a bit more about his heartbreak, how he came into his wealth, and there’s some minor drama with various neighbours and people from his past. Because of the taut writing style I kept expecting things to tip into menace or misery, but they didn’t—things just ambled along through a series of medium-sized setbacks and victories. If this sounds boring, it isn’t! I loved reading the book, and Annie burned through it in one sitting. It’s funny without being jokey, and there’s plenty of feeling in it. One of the many benefits of reading established authors is that once you find them there’s a big back catalogue to dip into. I look forward to more Millet in my life.
The many albums of SAULT
Sault is a British ‘music collective’ that has released eleven albums since 2019. They don’t do interviews, don’t release music videos, and don’t have a front person or easily identifiable members. Many of their album covers are black with a faint image or scratches. A group this prolific and mysterious seems like they would be intimidating, but the music is easy to get into, drawing lyrically and musically on popular Black music like R&B, soul, gospel, disco, funk, hip-hop, and rock. They use different vocalists, which makes each album feel a bit like a mixtape. What’s consistent is their awesome rhythm section, which is, oddly, absent from one of my favourite SAULT albums, the out-of-left-field modernist choral project Air. I maybe wouldn’t start with that one (unless that description appeals to you), but most of the others are head-bopping gems.
Viking Flick The Northman
I would only recommend this movie if you’re curious about what it’d be like if Vikings had been given access to movie-making technology. The director Robert Eggers has said that Norse epics were the action blockbusters of their day, full of extreme violence and punny one-liners. Like his earlier movies The Witch and The Lighthouse, Eggers did thorough historical research and seems to be trying to write for the time-period he’s depicting. From the same source material Shakespeare drew on for Hamlet, The Northman is an ultra-violent, pagan nightmare of revenge that contains a totally alien value system. The pleasure I got from the film was mostly intellectual and aesthetic—there’s no one to root for and almost everyone to root against. Those Vikings needed to relax!
The movie takes for granted an understanding and belief in Norse mythology, gives us a protagonist who is deranged and brutal and overly concerned with his honour, and weaves prophecy and magic throughout. Alexander Skarsgård gives off strong himbo energy as Amleth, who must kill his uncle to avenge his father, but only at a specific time determined by fate. In another era Amleth would be a rightwing fitness influencer in the manosphere, but in the 10th century he gets to be the tragic hero. The love story felt thin and ridiculous, but love in classical epics always feels that way. The image above is of Bjork, who is in one (1) scene and looks, as you would expect, resplendent in her wheat sheaf headdress. The climax features two buff, naked men sword fighting by an active volcano. This is a wonderfully preposterous way to cap off a movie, but Eggers chickens out by setting the scene at night and amidst lots of smoke—you can barely see anything at all!
Rural Nova Scotia
This river was the busiest thing I encountered during the week and a half I spent in Nova Scotia over the holidays. Mahone Bay isn’t exactly bustling in the summer, but during the winter it is so, so quiet. Would recommend if you’re interested in:
silence
deer wandering through fields
moonlight so bright it casts shadows