Thursday, March 11, 2004
I'm trying to stave off a headache that's been nibbling at me since last night, so I do not guarantee that anything which follows is particularly coherent.
The new issue of Locus includes a review of Argosy No. 1, from which I quote:
Caitlin R. Kiernan delivers an unsettling judgement on the romance of the alien in "Riding the White Bull," which responds to much hopeful speculation that the ocean within Europa may contain life by suggesting that such organisms will not make pleasant acquaintance. This is one of the best fusions of SF and horror in some time, stark in its evocation of a spiritual state in which humankind is no longer alone, but more alone than ever. (Nick Gevers)
I'm very pleased that "Riding the White Bull" has been so well received, and it makes me a little less nervous about The Dry Salvages, which I'm beginning to think of as the big sister of "Riding the White Bull." I believe that one of the things I'm going to do today is read through the latter again. In other short-story related news, the release date of the asbinthe anthology, Verte Brume, which includes my story, "Peau Verte," has been delayed by several months. It's been more than a year now since I wrote that story and such delays become frustrating, simply because I'm afraid I may no longer like the story by the time it's finally published. I tend to love whatever I've just finished more than everything I've written previously (there have been a few notable exceptions), but after a year or so, it gets difficult to go back to a piece without finding so much fault that I can't appreciate it. This is, I think, the second delay on Verte Brume.
Yesterday's day off went very, very well. Spooky and I had painfully hot Thai and Singha beer for lunch, then swung by Atlanta Costume on our way to a matinee of Hidalgo (even though I'd forgotten my glasses). A very fine movie, and I refer the curious to Roger Ebert's review. I've heard accusations that Hidalgo is anti-Arab propaganda, which is patently absurd. Frankly, it's the Americans and Brits who are cast as the true villains in this film. How anyone could watch Hidalgo, with its depiction of the massacre at Wounded Knee, the sleazy, hypocritical Bill Cody (J.K. Simmons), the venomous Lady Anne (Louise Lombard), and British troops willing to murder for a few coins, and come away with the impression that it's pro-EuroAmerican propaganda is entirely beyond me. But then many things are. I found it possessed of the same joyful innocence and naivete as, say, Raiders of the Lost Ark. It's a fun, exciting, and moving film, and it's a shame that Hollywood can't produce more like it. Viggo Mortensen is delightful, as is Omar Sharif. Go see this movie, or at least catch it on DVD.
Oh, and my cold cast porcelain D'Argo statue arrived yesterday. To bad Toy Vault will not be going forward with its plans for a whole series of Farscape statues.
As for today, there's work to do. Which is what I should be doing. But I'll take a second to thank Ben Hostmark, who brought the Locus review to my attention; Erik Schriever, who assures me I have readers in The Netherlands; Stephen A. Jarjoura, for letting me know how much he enjoyed Low Red Moon; Chris Allen, for telling me that he liked Low Red Moon better than Threshold, so that now I know at least one person agrees with me; and Ray Cornwall, and he knows what for.
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