Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand - Samuel R. Delany (1984)

 

Rating: Admirable

Samuel R. Delany is unlike most other science fiction writers, not only is his densely descriptive writing style highly erudite, but his work is conceptually sophisticated and quite often oblique. His themes explore gender norms, sexuality, sociology and cultural mores, especially relating to social politics and government bureaucracy. Delany has more in common with Ursula Le Guin than the likes of most other science fiction authors, particularly from the era in which he produced the majority of his published work, the 1960’s, 1970’s and 1980’s. Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand takes place in a distant future in which humanity is spread across some 6000 planets. There are alien species, but only one shares humanity’s ability to harness faster than light travel, a xenophobic race known as XLv. Sounds simple enough, but Delany adds in two competing quasi-religious factions, the Family and the Sygn, both of which become only marginally understood as the novel progresses. One of the handful of main protagonists is Rat Korga, a gangly misfit who voluntarily undergoes a process called Radical Anxiety Termination, in which his brain is permanently altered to take away all mental suffering, but he effectively becomes a slave on a desert planet which is eventually destroyed in mysterious circumstances. The first section of the novel is taken up with his story, told in third person, until the narrative switches to first person, told from the perspective of the other principal protagonist, Marq Dyeth on the plant Velm.

The novel is an intense exercise in comprehensive and detailed world building in which the reader is totally thrown in the deep end. There’s very little in the way of background information regarding the Family or The Sygn, how humanity came to be spread across the stars, the nature of their space travel, but most significantly, the culture and society of Velm in which humans live alongside the Evelm, a reptilian species with a multitude of forms and social norms, including ‘dragons’ that live in the north of the planet. We get to know Marq Dyeth quite well, however her (Marq is actually a male, but it seems that everyone on the planet is referred to as a female, but at other times as a male, depending on sexual preferences…) interactions with her family and the Evelm are exceedingly complex. The array of cultural and societal norms is bewilderingly detailed and is explored comprehensibly throughout the latter half of the novel. It’s very easy to get lost and overwhelmed by such world building, as such it is both the novel’s strength and its weakness. The best way to approach Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand is to just go with it and enjoy some of the novel’s more manifest joys, such as the literary elements, like the poetry recited at a social gathering, from where the title of the novel is taken, or Rat Korga’s experience with information cubes that transfer their data directly into the brain (many of which are great literary epics that sound fascinating - of course Delany goes into them in detail). There’s also the dragon hunting undertaken by Rat Korga and Marq Dyeth on Velm, which is unlike any hunting practice that you could reasonably consider. Delany also explores an internet like technology called the General Information Service, which reminds you that the novel was written and published during the early years of the Cyberpunk genre.

Samuel R. Delany, contemplating being oblique

Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand demands a great deal from the reader, to the extent that it would simply be too frustrating for many readers; the XLv race is barely explored in the end, despite its obvious promise; there are just too many long detailed passages describing social customs and there's also the matter of confusing gender pronouns and a plot in which not much really happens in terms of action or typical plot devices that move the narrative forward in a dramatic fashion. Also, the novel was meant to be the first in a diptych, but the second novel, The Splendor and Misery of Bodies, of Cities has never been completed, meaning that there is a number of loose ends that are never resolved, as they were no-doubt going to be explored further in the second novel. Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand is fascinating, beautiful, frustrating and even maddening. I really don’t know whether I fully enjoyed it, but three weeks after finishing it I’m still thinking about it, so I’d say it’s worth reading, but be prepared to be both bewildered and challenged.

We Could Be...Bowie and His Heroes - Tom Hagler (2021)

 

Rating: Admirable

I find it hard to resist a good Bowie book and when We Could Be...was returned across the counter at my library I, predictably, took it home. Since Bowie died, now approaching ten years ago, there have been a multitude of Bowie books, all with their own angles in an attempt to get away from just a straight Bowie biography. This one collates an array of meetings that Bowie had with other significant people in the public sphere, in music, film, art, fashion and politics. It is arranged chronologically, starting with Absolute Beginner: 1947-1969 and ending with The Next Days: 2005-2016. For a hard-core Bowie fan like me the early years were the most interesting, for example I never knew that Bowie hung out with Brian Jones during the Rolling Stone's early years; that Bowie, as Davy Jones, was invited into Paul McCartney's home and they listened to an acetate of one of Bowie's songs; or that Ridley Scott directed the ad for 'Luv ice lollies' that featured Bowie in 1969. As the eras roll on the anecdotes become more familiar, although there are still many nuggets of unknown incidents to be found. The writing style is fairly informal, but good enough to carry the stories of Bowie's interesting meetings with other well known people. There's a smattering of photographs, most well known, among a few that are relatively unseen. Over all it is a handsome, well presented Bowie book.

Bowie and Visconti, circa 1979, getting their facts straight

Tony Visconti, Bowie's friend and significant producer throughout his career, is noted on the cover as being a 'consultant editor'. Apparently, as indicated in the introduction, Hagler managed to get an early draft to Visconti to read and he offered insights and corrections, saying that his input was based on what Bowie had told him directly. This does seem to give particular credence to the veracity of the stories, however, I was disappointed to note some oversights. I know it comes across as churlish to point out mistakes, but in a book like this it has the effect of the reader not being as trusting when it comes to some of the less well known encounters. Firstly, there's the account of the reasonably well known meeting in which Bowie mistook Doug Yule for Lou Reed when he attended a Velvet Underground gig in New York in 1971 (Reed had left the band by that stage). It's a humorous, and true story, however Hagler notes that it was supposedly John Cale who answered the stage door and let Bowie inside. John Cale had long left the band (in late 1968), with Doug Yule becoming his replacement. Cale was certainly not in a version of The Velvet Underground that didn't include Lou Reed. Strangely there is then no mention of Bowie meeting and hanging out with John Cale later in the book, in particular in New York, where he and Cale jammed together, something documented on some rather dodgy bootlegs. It's an odd oversight in the context of the thematic thrust of the book. Another error comes later, regarding Nagisa Oshima, who made the film Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence (1983); when shopping around for an actor to play a British POW he saw Bowie in an TV ad for Pepsi, also starring Tina Turner. Except unfortunately this ad didn't appear until 1987, when Bowie advertised Pepsi in a deal to help with the expenses of touring the Glass Spider Tour. I think the actual ad the director would have seen Bowie in was one he did in the early eighties for a brand of Japanese sake, which featured the amazing instrumental Crystal Japan (1980), but not Tina Turner. Finally, in the section covering the 1990s, Hagler notes that Bowie had written the song I'm Afraid of Americans (1995) with Trent Reznor, but the co-writer was Brian Eno. Reznor did a remix or two of the song, toured with Bowie and starred in the video, but there was no co-write. Now I feel really churlish! But, despite being a fine book, these oversights, as a hard core Bowie fan, mean that I question other stories that I've never encountered before, despite Visconti's involvement. Despite this the book is worth a read for Bowie fans overall, regardless of my nit-picking.

A Personal Epilogue

We Could Be... is all about Bowie encounters and what it was like for himself and the significant others he met throughout his life. As a fan I had my own encounter in 1987 in Sydney, where I attended four of the eight Glass Spider shows. I was hanging around the entertainment centre and walked past an area near the backstage. There was a cyclone fence running between the back of the centre and a multi-story car-park. A few people were hanging about and one told me that they knew that Bowie was going to arrive for a sound-check shortly. He did indeed, and the experience of meeting him was surreal. He stood about 30 centimetres away from me on the other side of the fence, wearing a black fedora hat and a suit. He signed a page from a book I'd managed to convince someone to rip out of a Bowie book they had with them (I had nothing with me). I can't remember what I said to him, nor what he said to me, but I remember that it evoked a feeling like you get from having a beer on an empty stomach. I also remember that he was friendly and polite, totally relaxed and his skin was so white that it was almost translucent. It was a thrill to meet him and still feels surreal today, like it happened in another realm, despite the physical evidence of the signed page hanging in a frame on my wall. A great experience - I was among those who met Bowie and I'll always treasure it. That day I also met Carlos Alomar, one of Bowie's great and important collaborators, having played guitar on countless Bowie classics. Now he was a dude, exuding lots of fun and enthusiasm as he jumped around in his black leather stage attire. A great day all round.