Save Jeff Kay

I spend a lot of time each day reading prose of varying degrees of quality. It's always comforting to know that there are certain writers I can depend on to give me exactly what I'm looking for. And one of those reliable writers is Jeff Kay of The West Virginia Surf Report.

I discovered The WVSR via The Gargoyle Letters, one of the funniest bits of correspondence I've ever encountered, in which the wonderfully named ArdnaTyne frets about her neighbor's possibly Satanic yard decorations. I go back to that page every six months or so, hoping that it will be updated. So far, no luck.

For some reason, though, it took me a while explore the rest of The WVSR, but I eventually fell under the spell of its proprietor -- middle-aged, middle-managing ex-'zinester and former record marketing weasel Jeff Kay. He's a funny, funny guy. Occasionally crude, true, and sometimes not "politically correct" (whatever than means anymore), but sharply observant and possessing a brutally self-deprecating wit. I look forward to every daily installment and am sorely disappointed when one doesn't appear. When I was in China last summer, worn to a frazzle by the rigors of my first round of foreign travel, I enjoyed visiting his site from the hotel computers, just for a dose of down-to-earth American humor.

I've never figured out what Jeff actually does for a living, but last month, out of the blue, he was downsized. Yikes. He's handling it pretty well, but he's looking to monetize The WVSR while looking for his next full-time gig. He could use extra visitors, so please drop on by.

For a quick taste of Jeff's singular genius, check out his page of favorite quotes: "Sweet Sainted Mother of Blanket Jackson." If you laugh more than once, explore the rest of the site. You're not likely to regret it.

BIFF! BAM! WANK!

Top 15 Unintentionally Funny Comic Book Panels. The commentators are up in arms that much of this material has appeared elsewhere. Whatever. It still made me laugh.

I found the link at The Beat, so don't say mean things about me.

Books I'm Not Reading -- "Dangerous Games"

In Melbourne's urban underworld, there's a nightclub for every fantasy and desire. But for Riley Jenson, one such club has become an obsession. Riley, a rare hybrid of vampire and werewolf, hasn't come in pursuit of pleasure but of an unknown killer who's been using the steamy nightspot as his hunting grounds.

Sometimes I'm just the wrong audience for a book. Although I'm all up for werewolves, vampires and serial killers, singly and together, I'm not particularly enthusiastic about them in a "deliciously sexy adventure." (And do they have any werewallabies Down Under? Just curious.)

These "paranormal romances" obviously have their fans, and such writers as Laurel K. Hamilton and Kim Harrison have succeeded in finding large, eager audiences for their urban fantasies featuring highly sexed supernatural protagonists and antagonists. But these kinds of books don't interest me, and I suspect I'm not equipped to critique them in any meaningful way.

A while back, I was asked to review "Happy Hour at Casa Dracula" by Marta Acosta. I don't think I did a particularly good job of it, mainly because the conventions of the vampire-romance subgenre grate on me so. I found the characters annoying and their behavior baffling and the plot more than faintly ridiculous. But I could see that the things that turned me off would work for the book's intended audience and that Acosta was writing well and wittily within the set of rules she had chosen for herself. So I gave her a favorable review, concluding, "One suspects that the ultimate merit of 'Happy Hour at Casa Dracula' can be determined only by those readers squarely within its target demographic, but those with a taste for unlikely romance will probably find it a refreshing warm-weather treat."

Something of a cop-out -- and a reason why I won't be reading "Dangerous Games" by Keri Arthur or any other paperback originals that promise "a world of peril and pleasure that will leave readers panting for the next installment."

Next Stop: Haven of Contentment

I found this through Boing Boing, and it is several different kinds of awesome. It's a slide show about a mysterious Loyal Order of the Moose-sanctioned community that's as creepy as anything you'll find in a David Lynch double-feature.

Stoppard Snippet

Interesting New York Times article by Anthony Tommasini about the use of music in "The Coast of Utopia."

Glad Michael Dirda Is Picking Up My Slack

On Sunday, Michael Dirda at the Washington Post published an admiring review of "Things Will Never Be the Same" and "Howard Who?" Wish I could afford to spend that much wordage on Waldrop in The Chronicle.

Stoppard To and Fro

"Rock 'n' Roll" from a Czech translator's perspective.

Leonard Lopate interviews Billy Crupup, Jennifer Ehle and Brian F. O'Byrne about "The Coast of Utopia."


The Ukiah Daily Journal reviews the OSF production of "On the Razzle."

"Rosencrantz and Guildenstern" is headed for Baltimore's Center Stage.

Len Cariou, George Segal and Richard Benjamin will star in the American premiere of Stoppard's translation of "Heroes."

Books I'm Not Reading -- "Things Will Never Be the Same"

When authors and publicists write to me and ask whether they may send review copies of their latest books, my response tends toward the politely (I hope) discouraging. Even the least promising print-on-demand project deserves more than a "For the love of God, don’t waste my time" reply, but I feel that people should know what their chances are before they go to the expense of mailing, and especially Fed-Exing, their books to me. Those who persist (politely) are rewarded with the direct address to my desk, rather than to the catch-all that delivers everything to the Chronicle basement for haphazard sorting.

The publisher of "Things Will Never Be the Same: Selected Short Fiction 1980-2005" by Howard Waldrop wanted to know whether he could send a galley. I replied that, as much as I admire Waldrop's stories, I wasn't likely to review this compendium of previously collected work, and he might end up wasting postage. He sent the galley anyway.

I'm glad he did. Even though I’m not going to read "Things Will Never Be the Same," right now.

See, I’ve already read most of these stories. Written about many of them, too. Most of them are wonderful. I particularly recommend "The Ugly Chickens," "Heart of Whitenesse” and “Night of the Cooters.” As he’ll tell you himself, Waldrop is a National Treasure.

Sure, this volume features new afterwords by the author, and those are always illuminating. (In fact, there has been more than one occasion when I didn't know what the hell a Waldrop story was about until I read his explanatory endnotes.) But I can't see my way to devoting even 250 words in my column to this collection, not when there are so many other new books clamoring for attention.

I'll certainly recommend it here, though, for whatever good that does.

Just so we're clear: If this were a new Howard Waldrop novel, I'd be all over it.

Stoppard Hither and Yon

Deroy Murdock of the National Review went to London and found "Rock 'n' Roll" "remarkably long, remarkably dense, and remarkably dull." He really liked the new comedic adaptation of Hitchcock's "The 39 Steps," though.

Gavin Allen at icWales provides a not terribly illuminating review of "Arcadia": "Stoppard's play is a tough nut, and Theatr Clwyd didn't quite have the cracker."

Richard Moeschl of the Mail Tribune finds a few "groaners" in the OSF production of "On the Razzle" but has a good time anyhow.

Brickman and McAnuff Make Nice

In a pair of letters to the San Francisco Chronicle Datebook, "Jersey Boys" director Des McAnuff and writer Marshall Brickman put their petty squabbles behind them. Like Michael Corleone and Fredo, no doubt.

Does Anybody See Any Connections Here?

According to the Wall Street Journal, stand-alone book review sections are almost extinct at major metropolitan newspapers.

"Premiere" ceases publication as a printed magazine.

In the Miami Herald, Carl Hiaasen writes about the excessive media coverage of the continuing Anna Nicole Smith story and other forms of "necro-tainment":

Don't make the mistake of dismissing the Smith story as an anomaly; it's a media watershed. If the death of a hapless, doped-up ex-model can knock two wars out of the headlines, there's no end to the squalid possibilities.

We have seen the future, and it's in the gutter.

Final Thoughts on WonderCon

Because Moscone Center is two blocks from my office, because I would be granted a press pass and because I would be getting paid for writing about the experience, I was happy to attend this year's WonderCon. And even though nothing untoward happened, the proceedings left me oddly -- not depressed, exactly -- but disengaged.

Maybe it was the lack of any major guests who really push my fan-boy buttons. Last year, Grant Morrison was in the house. This year, the only pro who interested me was Brian K. Vaughan, and I've stopped reading both "Y: The Last Man" and "Ex Machina." (I find the pacing of his story arcs maddening.) The DC booth had little in the way of interesting trinkets, and nothing at Oni, Top Shelf, Dark Horse or Slave Labor Graphics caught my eye.

I'm also spoiled by the fact that I live within walking distance of three great resources for all things comics- and science fiction/fantasy-related: the Comic Relief, Dark Carnival and the Other Change of Hobbit bookstores. None of the WonderCon dealers seemed to have anything that I couldn't pick up more easily elsewhere, with less chance of being ripped off.

I have no idea how some of those guys set their prices. See that "Tarzan" with all the bitey baboons on it? One joker wanted $30 for it, and he had three copies! Who in their right mind would pay that? I thought that issue was awesome (Carson of Venus!!!) when I paid 60 cents for it at age 15, but c'mon!

People were selling week-old first issues of the new quasi-Stephen King "Gunslinger" book for $3, $4 or $5. Get your stories straight, folks. Scariest of all were the Eastern European gentlemen who had full runs of various comics all bound up in plastic wrap. A hundred and sixty bucks for every "Booster Gold" ever published? Such a deal. I idly picked up a block of "Resurrection Man" and was immediately pounced upon. "Is good book, no? You buy, right?" I not buy, no, thank you.

I spent only an hour wandering around the exhibition hall, and that was enough. Then I attended two panels, went home, spent the next morning writing about them, went back for two more movie-related panels and called it quits altogether.

Reports from WonderCon 2007

Sorry for making you look pink-eyed and rodent-like, Brian K. Vaughan, writer for "Y: The Last Man" and "Ex Machina"! You're actually a cooler guy than my pathetic digital photography skills can capture.

I spent a good chunk of the weekend at WonderCon in San Francisco, covering the event for the Comic Book Resources site. I wrote about the DC Nation panel, Vaughan's spotlight session and the preview panels for the films "300" and "Spider-Man 3."

Yeah, You

Four books in one review in today's San Francisco Chronicle column: "The Terror" by Dan Simmons, "You Suck" by Christopher Moore, "Heart-Shaped Box" by Joe Hill and "Hart and Boot" by Tim Pratt. I liked them all, to varying degrees. The Simmons is the most harrowing book I've read in a long time, positively brilliant in its bleakness. "Heart-Shaped Box" is a strong debut from a novelist working from within a very big shadow. "Hart and Boot" took me by surprise with its sophisticated take on modern love. I read "You Suck" because I was instructed to do so, and while I don't truly regret the time spent on it, I wish Moore would move out of town while he publishes his next two or three books.

Get Your "Coast of Utopia" Calendars

A calendar featuring photographs taken by Amy Irving of the leading ladies of "The Coast of Utopia" is now available. All proceeds from the calendar will benefit Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS.

At the Village Voice, Michael Feingold feels that "the sense of human struggle and suffering seems almost wholly absent" from the play.

As for the Oregon Shakespeare production of "On the Razzle," which opened Presidents Day Weekend, the Eugene Register-Guard has one of the first reviews.

Marshall Brickman Is a Funny, Angry Man

The co-writer of two of my all-time favorite movies, "Annie Hall" and "Manhattan," Marshall Brickman responds to a self-serving interview with "Jersey Boys" director Des McAnuff in the San Francisco Chronicle. Hee hee.

Stoppard Odds and Ends

In The Telegraph, Dominic Cavendish reviews "Arcadia" and wonders whether Stoppard is the heir to Terence Rattigan.

In his NYTBR essay on Alexander Herzen, Edward Rothstein views "The Coast of Utopia" as a Tolstoyan "loose, baggy monster."

Michael Bracken at metro new york continues to be disappointed in "The Coast of Utopia," saying that the trilogy "ends on a rocky note."

Continuing the shipwreck metaphor, Toby Zinman of the Philadelphia Inquirer says the "finale runs aground."

The Oregon Shakespeare Festival production of "On the Razzle" get a positive review from a local blogger. Hurrah!

In the Money in the Oscar Pool

Woohoo! I got eight out of ten predictions correct in this year's Oscar pool at the local video shop. That's ten free credits. Not exactly the Irish Sweepstakes, but I'll take what I can get.

I got tripped up on Foreign-Language Film, which I had assumed would go to "Pan's Labyrinth." And I foolishly listened to the hype for Eddie Murphy, ignoring the likelihood that the Academy would have trouble voting for the prickly star of "Norbit."

One of these year's I'm going to roll a perfect Oscar score. Just you wait...

"Salvage" Pro and Con

Elysa Gardner in USA Today wrote that she "felt like a kid unwrapping the last of my presents after a fabulous birthday party" and was not disappointed.

But John Simon of Bloomberg News spent all of a paragraph on the play, finding it drier than T.S. Eliot's "The Dry Salvages."

Still, Roma Torra at NY1 recommends getting a good night's sleep beforehand and says, "There's a treasure that awaits, but only if you're fully prepared to receive it."

Neverthless, Eric Alterman at The Nation remains dubious, believing that the play "suffers from all kinds of insoluble problems."

Meanwhile, "Rock 'n' Roll" receives a warm welcome from the Czechs, complete with a performance by the Plastic People of the Universe.

And finally, Stoppard's translation of Anton Chekhov's "The Seagull" is reviewed in the Yale Daily News. Pay particular attention to the photo caption.

More Pathetic Foobery

Lynn Johnston is working my last nerve by bringing together the Granthony and the Michael-the-Novelist subplots in "For Better or For Worse." For those not obsessed with the banal-yet-totally-unrealistic adventures of four middle-brow, middle-class Ontarioans(?), dutiful son Michael just abruptly quit his full-time job at a major magazine because he didn't have the managerial stones to downsize one of his underlings. Now he's going to write full-time and live off the $25,000 advance for his first novel.

Good luck paying those freelance writer health insurance premiums was my first thought. Then I remembered that some things are actually better north of the border and shut my trap.

Over on the official "FBofW" Web site, Johnston lists the front-runners in the race to find a title for Michael's book. (Thanks, Comics Curmudgeon!) Prayrie? The Soddy? Let Me Be Judged by God? What in the name of all that's good and sensible is Jonhston thinking? Is she just sadistically toying with us?

Could well be, given how she's proceeding with the Liz/Granthony pairing. Liz learned about her brother's new employment situation upon her return from the trial of would-be-rapist Howard Bunt, where Granthony sat supportively throughout the proceedings.

Is it just me, or doesn't Howard look disturbingly like a disgruntled Larry "Second Stooge" Fine? And is that Kim Jong-il leading him away on the right?

This strip just gets weirder and more foobish as Johnston gets ready for semi-retirement.

"Salvage" Flotsam and Jetsam

So far, the critical consensus for "Salvage," the final part of the Broadway production of "The Coast of Utopia" trilogy, is mostly favorable, as Istanbul's Today's Zamen notes in picking up a story from Reuters.

In greater detail, Ben Brantley in the NY Times deemed the production "brave and gorgeous."

Meanwhile, the Westport Library will host “Who’s Afraid of Tom Stoppard? Navigating The Coast of Utopia,” a lecture by Mark Schenker, associate dean at Yale College, for apprehensive theatergoers.

Finally, it's unclear whether David Wootton, Anniversary Professor of History at the University of York, is frightened of Stoppard, but he certainly doesn't like "Rock 'n' Roll." He's also obviously not a "Star Wars" fan. While putting down Stoppard, the professor badly paraphrases Harrison Ford's literary critique of George Lucas. The actual (perhaps apocryphal) quote is "George, you can type this shit, but you can't say it."

Not Hot for "Heroes"

Knowing my fondness for all things science fiction-y, people have been asking me whether I watch “Heroes.” Short answer: “No.” Longer answer: “If I want superheroes, I like them best in comics.”

I missed the series premiere of “Heroes” back at the start of the season. When the show took its mid-winter break, I watched two marathons of re-runs. I liked a lot of what I saw, including the high production values, the decent acting and the not-stupid scripts. But none of the characters, other than Hiro, really grabbed me: not the weaselly politician, not the stripper mom with MPD, not the cuckolded psychic cop, and certainly not the cheerleader who needed to be saved. The fact that I can’t remember any of their names off the top of my head speaks to my level of emotional involvement with the show. (It didn’t help that the marathons consisted on Episodes 5-7 and then 9-10. Where was the logic in that?)

The problem may be that four decades of reading comics have left me immune to any sense of excitement at seeing a reasonably well-done superhero series on TV. If I’m jonesing for a narrative about people with special powers, it’s a matter of going to the nearby bookshelf and grabbing a volume by Alan Moore (“Watchmen”), Grant Morrison (“JLA” or “Seven Soldiers of Victory”) or James Robinson (“Starman.”). All three have produced superhero sagas whose complexity and depth will probably never be matched in another medium. And the racks at the local comics store are jammed with other folks-in-tights epics if I want something new, like DC’s “52.”

I don’t even like superhero movies that much. Most are terrible, but even the best ones, from “Batman Begins” to “Spider-Man” to “V for Vendetta,” don’t give me the same rush as Frank Miller’s “The Dark Knight Returns” or Warren Ellis’s “Planetary.”

Most clued-in folks know that comics, as an incredibly elastic medium, are capable of more than just BIFF! BAM! POW! But I’ve personally formed the hypothesis that comics may be the only medium in which BIFF! BAM! POW! actually succeeds artistically.

Besides, right now, I only have room in my life for one miss-a-single-episode-and-you’re-screwed television experience. For the moment, for better or for worse, “Lost” is it.

The Final Chapter of "Utopia"

"Salvage," the final chapter in the trilogy opened today on Broadway. France's International Herald Tribune ran a favorable review, apparently picked up from AP.

Meanwhile, The New York Daily News has an interview with "The Coast of Utopia" director Jack O'Brien.

Also, the Independent Online has a short review of the Theatr Clywd production of "Arcadia" in Mold.

Totally Nuts!

Sometimes I'm hit hard by the realization that I live in a sociological bubble here in the liberal-minded San Francisco Bay Area. It certainly was news to me that various librarians and parents across the country are up in arms over the appearance of the word "scrotum" in the opening pages of the Newbery Award-winning "The Higher Power of Lucky" by Susan Patron.

Some school librarians are refusing to add the novel to their collections. One wrote, "The inclusion of genitalia does not add to the story one bit and that is my objection. Because of that one word, I would not be able to read that book aloud."

People are freaking out over "scrotum"? That strikes me as the perfectly clinically correct term for the body part in question. It's the work of 10 seconds to create a list of 20 other words or phrases that offend me more.

Patron does a good job of defending herself, but it really shouldn't come to that.

Can't Wait for the Maggot-Birth Dream Sequence

Nutty Canadian filmmaker David Cronenberg has announced that he, tenor Placido Domingo and film composer Howard Shore are collaborating on a new opera based on Cronenberg's 1986 film version of "The Fly." No word whether a tune entitled "Larva Come Back" will be included.

You Don't Know Me

I am, by nature, a private person, not given to outrageous acts of self-revelation. I’m not a joiner, not someone comfortable with getting up and promoting myself. It’s probably partly the legacy of being an only child who lived inside his own head for much of the day. It’s also probably a result of the ol’ genetic crap shoot. My father is a man of few words, a close-mouthed Yankee if there ever was one.

I’ve come to realize that this tendency toward the antisocial doesn’t always serve me well. It can make me appear aloof, when, really, I just don’t have a pressing need to shoot my mouth off. I’m not good at waving my hands and saying, “Look at me! Look at me!” So it’s sometimes hard to get people to look in my direction at all.

This blog is a small exercise in revealing more about myself in a way that’s useful to me and to others. I’m making more of an effort to contact and thank the people whose work I especially enjoy online. I’m posting more messages on various boards. I’m exploring some of the social networking sites.

It’s a gradual process. Don’t expect any immediate gut-spilling. But there is somebody underneath those bandages.

"Rock 'n' Roll" Part 2

Playbill reports that Stoppard's "Rock 'n' Roll" will move to Broadway this fall.

Oscar Picks -- Put Up or Shut Up

As a cranky New Englander transplanted to Berkeley, I've been known to mutter that the only thing good about living in California is that the Academy Awards are almost always over by 9 p.m. This is a base calumny, but I am still always glad that the process of watching the ceremony can no longer extend across two calendar days, as it did a few times when I resided in Maine and New Hampshire.

Each year, the fine folks at Videots, the neighborhood brick-and-mortar video shop, sponsor an Oscar Pool. The number of credits you can win seems to vary from year to year, but I once scored 30 in one whack, so participation is well worth the effort. Ballots are due soon, and it's time to make my final selections.

Handicapping the Oscar race might be easier had I seen more than three of all the films with major nominations. Let's start with the easiest and work our way up to throw-a-dart-at-The-Chronicle-Datebook-section.

Best Supporting Actress: Jennifer Hudson. Always nice to see a non-delusional "American Idol" contestant make good. Everybody says she's got a lock on this category, so I'm going with it. I never really liked The Supremes, so "Dreamgirls" holds little interest for me.

Best Actress: Helen Mirren. I think we're all agreed that she's an acting genius, and the Academy always likes to reward glamorously attractive people when they make themselves look frumpy. Again, I'm going with the smart money here.

Best Actor: Forest Whitaker. I managed to see "The Last King of Scotland," and even though I despised the protagonist and couldn't suspend my disbelief at certain crucial points, I thought Whitaker was magnificent. Peter O'Toole, who should have won for "Lawrence of Arabia" 40-odd years ago, might sneak in as the sentimental winner, but I doubt it. He's not going to be guest-starring on "ER" anytime soon.

Best Director: Martin Scorsese. It'll be so embarrassing if he doesn't win. I can just imagine the awkward silence and uncomfortable squirming that will ensue if it's Clint who's called up to accept his THIRD Oscar while Marty goes home with bupkis.

Best Supporting Actor: Eddie Murphy. Reluctantly, because nearly every other movie he's made in the past 15 years has been horrible. Alan Arkin was fine in "Little Miss Sunshine," but didn't they use up the dead-elderly-family-member-in-the-car jokes in "National Lampoon's Vacation"? My personal vote would be for Mark Wahlberg, who was both scary and hilarious in "The Departed," but I don't think he has a high enough profile to win this year.

Best Picture: The Departed. The most giddily entertaining movie I've seen in a long while. May be too low-brow for the Academy, but are they going to repeat last year's strategy and select a polarizing exercise in obviousness like "Babel"? "Little Miss Sunshine" could grab the feel-good vote, but I'm going with my gut here.

I don't quite know how detailed the Videots ballot will be this year. If they need to know the Best Foreign-Language Film, I'll choose "Pan's Labyrith" and, if asked, will give the screenplay awards to "The Departed" and "Little Miss Sunshine." Randy Newman's always my personal choice in the music categories, but I'll assume the Academy will honor "Dreamgirls" again with the Best Original Song award.

Wish me luck. I want those free DVD rentals. Don't make me switch to Netflix!

Books I'm Not Reading -- "Sixty Days and Counting"

Kim Stanley Robinson is not a writer whose books I generally seek out on my own. But I really respect his work and have especially enjoyed his stand-alone novels, including the near-future “Antarctica” and the alterative history “The Years of Rice and Salt.” I’m less keen on his trilogies, “The Mars Trilogy” and “Three Californias.” They are a little too focused on politics at the expense of action, for my taste at least.

However, I liked “Forty Signs of Rain,” the initial installment of his current trilogy about catastrophic climate change. I won’t be reading “Six Days and Counting,” the final volume of the series, though. Why? Because I never got around to reading the second book, “Fifty Degrees Below.”

One of the difficulties of reviewing science fiction and fantasy is the genre’s reliance on multi-volume works. Too often, if you don’t pick up a science fiction series’ first installment, you have no hope of making sense of any subsequent volumes. I’m still kicking myself for not reading “A Game of Thrones” by George R.R. Martin when it first came out. Given the level of reader interest, I should have covered part four, “A Feast for Crows,” last year. Will I be ready for “A Dance with Dragons” whenever it hits stores? Somehow I haven’t yet found the time to make my way through the 4,000 pages the epic now entails. And I’ll bet “A Song of Ice and Fire” is not something that lends itself to easy synopsis.

Playing catch-up is just too hard. My notable exception was Kage Baker’s “Company” novels. Not knowing any better, I read the third book, “Mendoza in Hollywood” first and was bewildered and not particularly impressed. Fortunately, I sought out the next volume, “The Graveyard Game,” loved it, read “In the Garden of Iden” and “Sky Coyote,” re-read “Mendoza…” and have been captivated ever since. (In some ways, Mendoza is still my least-favorite character in the saga. I’m much more interested in the fates of Joseph and Lewis than in the botanist’s tragic love life. Maybe it’s just a guy thing.)

Other genres usually don’t make it so hard for the newcomer. You will definitely miss some of the nuances if you don’t read Lawrence Block’s “Scudder” novels in order, but none of the books will baffle you if it’s read out of sequence. (No one would be foolish enough to read Len Deighton’s “London Match,” “Mexico Set” and “Berlin Game” in that order, but that’s a special case.) I picked up Carol O’Connell’s “Find Me” after having skipped three or four of the other “Mallory” thrillers, and I followed the plot just fine. It’s not her best book, but it’s still completely comprehensible outside the context of its predecessor.

With science fiction and fantasy, you’ve got to commit yourself early. My commitment to Robinson’s estimable new trilogy obviously waned. And as for Tad Williams’ “Shadowplay,” the 600-page second installment of the “Shadowmarch” trilogy, which arrived in today’s mail, forget about it.

The "Wire"/Stoppard Connection

Since I don't subscribe to HBO, it took me a while to develop an appreciation for "The Wire." Once Season One arrived on DVD, though, I was hooked. It's not hyperbolic to say that it's one of the best television series ever.

What I didn't realize until I read this article from The Guardian is that Dominic West, aka Jimmy McNulty, is actually British. In fact, he's currently starring in Stoppard's "Rock 'n' Roll" in the West End. Who knew?

I can't wait for Season Four of "The Wire" to appear on DVD or for the final wrap-up in Season Five. In the meantime, here's a really smart deconstruction of the series' various credit sequences, each set to a different version of Tom Waits' "Way Down in the Hole."

The End of StoppardFest

Winnipeg's StoppardFest wrapped up Sunday amid record-breaking cold temperatures. The photo at left, by Wayne Glowacki of the Winnipeg Free Press, shows the city in the grip of "ice fog." Good times in Manitoba, eh?

In other Stoppard news, "Arcadia" is now being performed in Prague, in Czech.

And The New York Time's Christopher Isherwood sez "The Coast of Utopia" is a bore.

That's Why I Love Mankind...and Randy Newman

"Now it seems like we're supposed to be afraid. It's patriotic, in fact. Color-coded." -- A Few Words in Defense of Our Country

Books I'm Not Reading -- DC Comics' "52"

Last year, after Superboy finished punching the universe back into shape in DC Comics’ controversial “Infinite Crisis” miniseries, the company announced that it would be publishing a 52-issue megaseries, entitled “52,” oddly enough. It would be written by four comics bigwigs – Mark Waid, Grant Morrison, Geoff Johns and Greg Rucka, with art breakdowns by Keith Giffen. But because “Infinite Crisis” proved to be so mean and stupid, I held out little hope for this elephantine follow-up.

But DC has always been good about sending out review copies. (Unlike the insanely stingy Marvel. It took the personal intercession of Neil Gaiman and Joe Quesada to secure a copy of the “1602” hardcover for review in The Chronicle.) Every week, I received a new installment of “52,” and I came to enjoy the anything-goes nuttiness of the serial, which featured, among other highlights: a lipstick lesbian Batwoman; not one, but two, Questions; the Elongated Man driven insane by grief; an entire island populated by mad scientists; and the return of one of the most racist and ridiculous supervillains of all time, Egg Fu.

Now, I never had any intention of reviewing “52” for The Chronicle. It’s pretty much incomprehensible to anyone not steeped in DC Universe trivia and therefore well outside the interest of the newspaper’s core audience. But I was perfectly happy to read it for my own enjoyment, even though I relied on annotations from the estimable Douglas Wolk to keep track of the background details.

But then, without warning, DC cut me off at Issue #28. The free issues stopped arriving! I figured they would resume after the holidays, but no. Apparently, 28 out of 52 is all I get.

It’s not like I can call up DC and demand that they send me the rest of the series. That wouldn’t be ethical. I considered just gritting my teeth and springing for the back issues out of my own pocket, but changed my mind when I realized that would set me back $27.50 in one whack. That’s more than I want to pay for a comics series that’s little more than a guilty pleasure.

Maybe I’ll complete the series once the issues make their inevitable migration to the Four-for-a-Buck bins at my local comics shop. In the meantime, “52” is, with reluctance, another Book I’m Not Reading.

And Now I Also Hate Michael Patterson

First the Granthony Debacle, and now this. Has Lynn Johnston started huffing oven cleaner or something?

Like the Great Wall of China, the plot turns in "For Better or for Worse" are clearly visible from outer space. We all knew that eternal-good-boy Michael Patterson would sell the "novel" he's been working on between toddler wrangling and battling the boorish Kelpfroths downstairs. But did it have to happen in the most unrealistic and ludicrous manner possible?

I feel confident that no writer in the entire history of publishing has sent an unagented, unsolicited manuscript (one rescued from a devastating house fire, no less) to a single publisher and a month later received a contract for $25,000. $25K in CANADIAN dollars, but still...

It never works like that. Never. To believe otherwise is the height of cluelessness. Ms. Johnson, watch your step, because it's a mighty long drop.

If this were "Get Fuzzy," I wouldn't mind. If Satchel (or, hell, even Bucky Kat) somehow wangled a three-book deal for an insane wad of cash, I'd think that was awesome. But "FbofW" pretends to take place in the real world. I don't expect to see Granthony gored by a unicorn (though I wouldn't complain), and I can't swallow that Michael Patterson could sell his first attempt at a novel, especially if it reads like any of these horrible letters.

You can foob some of the people some of the time, but you can't foob all of them all of the time.

Books I'm Not Reading -- "The Tower of Shadows"

First novels present a number of challenges for the reviewer. On the one hand, you want to be encouraging of new talent. On the other, many first novels simply aren’t very good. And when they’re not, there is absolutely no point in making a big deal about it. No one should be trashed for their inaugural effort.

I didn’t read Christopher Paolini’s “Eragon” when it was first published, but my editor insisted that I cover its follow-up, “Eldest.” I’m glad I waited, because I didn’t like the second installment and felt no guilt in saying so. (I’m hoping to be spared the task of reviewing Volume Three, but I’m not counting on it.)

And now there’s Drew C. Bowling’s “The Tower of Shadows.” It apparently features at least one dragon. Its author is a photogenic college sophomore. It also has a cover blurb by Terry Brooks, and he’s not an author whose critical judgment is likely to sway me.

Sorry, but I’m not going to read “The Tower of Shadows.”

Perhaps some of you will contend that I’m merely bitter over the fact that I was never a photogenic 19-year-old who managed to sell his first attempt at fiction to a major publisher such as Del Ray. I will aver that I am above such petty considerations, and I will still decline to read “The Tower of Shadows.”

New novelists with a track record of some kind stand a better chance of getting a review from me. I’m more inclined to read a debut novel if I know the author has published at least a handful of stories to professional markets.

Of the last 30 or so books I’ve reviewed for The Chronicle, six were first novels. I’d say that’s a pretty good ratio, one I would like to maintain. In my current reading stack are two more first novels, one from a major publisher, one from a specialty press. It’ll be interesting to see which I prefer.

StoppardFest -- "Jumpers"

The Winnipeg Free Press reviews the StoppardFest production of "Jumpers."

Terry Hands, a director at the Clwyd Theatr Cymru in Mold (who claims to be a friend of Stoppard), discusses what it's like to stage "Arcadia."

The New York Times notes that Isaiah Berlin's essay collection "Russian Thinkers" has virtually disappeared from the city's bookstores, thanks to "The Coast of Utopia."

And the Seattle Times has a review of a local production of "Travesties."

Scalzi Love, Granthony Hatred & StoppardMania!

The number of daily visits to this site has skyrocketed into the double digits over the past few weeks, and a quick perusal of the logs reveals that three topics in particular are responsible for this heady up-tick in popularity.

I kinda knew that by featuring John Scalzi's "The Android's Dream" as the inaugural Book I'm Not Reading I might attract a few devoted readers from his popular site, The Whatever. That John used my entry as an excuse for an extended riff on his book's feelings of low self-esteem only sweetened the deal.

For quite a while, Cheaper Ironies has been Google's top search choice for the Winnipeg StoppardFest. Now that the fest is well underway (here's a review of its production of "The Real Thing."), it looks as if the fresh stream of Stoppard enthusiastics may continue into February. Hurray! And too bad for you if you didn't get your $59 all-you-can-eat StoppardPass, because they're all gone!

What truly surprised me, though, was the amount of traffic generated by my entry about Granthony, Liz Patterson's creepy erstwhile boyfriend. Whew, there are a lot of Anthony Cain haters out there! Given the way Lynn Johnston demolished both of Granthony's romantic rivals in one fell swoop this week, they're probably even more incensed.

Thanks, Granthony! Cheaper Ironies salutes your feckless neediness and twerpitude. Keep sending your detractors thisaway!

Portrait of Anthony Cain (c) Lynn Johnston Productions Inc.

A Trip to "The Jennifer Morgue"

I really loved Charles Stross' first "Bob Howard" book, "The Atrocity Archives," a brilliant mash-up of Len Deighton and H.P. Lovecraft. I'm a little less enthusiastic about its follow-up, "The Jennifer Morgue," an homage to James Bond, but not by much. It could be that Deighton is more to my taste than Ian Fleming. Deighton's "Game, Set, Match" trilogy ranks as one of my very favorite espionage sequences, second only to Le Carre's "The Quest for Karla."

In addition to "The Jennifer Morgue," my latest Chronicle review also covers Alan Dean Foster's "Sagramanda" and Bruce Holland Rogers' "The Keyhole Opera."

I was also planning to review "The Terror" by Dan Simmons, but reading that 800-page saga of arctic misery put me over my deadline. It will have to wait until next month.

Quick Stoppard Roundup

The New Yorker weighs in on "The Coast of Utopia."

The Christian Science Monitor gives "Coast of Utopia" an A.

The Independent profiles the Czech band "The Plastic People of the Universe," immortalised in Stoppard's "Rock 'n' Roll."

The Winnipeg Sun offers the complete Stoppard Fest lineup. I idly considered finding a cheap flight but gave up once I noticed that the daily high temperatures there hovered around -15C.

I'll console myself with "On the Razzle" at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival this summer.

Books I'm Not Reading -- "Wild Fire"

I'm still harboring a grudge against Nelson DeMille.

I usually only get paid to read science fiction and fantasy, but I do enjoy other genres, mysteries and thrillers in particular.

A few years back, somebody recommended DeMille's "Plum Island" to me. The book introduces former NYPD homicide detective John Corey and involves him in a case on Long Island that revolves around biological weapons and Captain Kidd's missing treasure. The climax of the narrative was a little, well, anticlimactic, but Corey is a wry, affecting narrator and DeMille keeps the action percolating for most of the book.

A couple of years later I read "The Gold Coast," his Gatsby-meets-The Godfather best-seller, while on a trip to Oregon. It doesn't feature John Corey, but it's a better book: funny, suspenseful, unique in its observations. Fitzgerald it ain't, but with much better writing than Puzo. Perfect for reading while on an Oregon vacation.

So far, so good, But then I picked up "Night Fall," the third in the Corey series, skipping "The Lion's Game," as I wasn't in the mood for Middle Eastern terrorist plots.

"Night Fall" has one of the worst endings I have ever encountered in a best-selling thriller. I am going to spoil it now, because it annoys me so. Run away if you do not wish to witness said spoiling.

DeMille resolves the central conflict of "Night Fall" by having all the major characters except John Corey and his spouse arrive for a breakfast meeting AT THE WORLD TRADE CENTER ON SEPTEMBER 11, 2001!!!!! Boom go the planes, down come the towers, all the plot threads get sliced in one great whack. THE END.

I don't mind ambiguity in my thrillers, really. But I felt cheated by the way DeMille brazenly appropriated a national tragedy to create an escape hatch from the plot box he'd written himself into.

Now comes DeMille's latest, "Wild Fire," and John Corey is again the protagonist. I have a galley, and I momentarily considered reading it during the holiday doldrums. But then I thought, "Burn me twice..." And it becomes another Book I'm Not Reading.

I Hate Granthony, Too

I spend a good part of my day staring at the various components of a daily newspaper, and perhaps I invest too much mental energy in keeping track of the on-going four-panel slice of mundanity that is Lynn Johnston's "For Better or for Worse." But I really can't help myself. I've been reading the strip for at least 20 years now and have weathered Farley's heroic death, Lawrence's coming-out, Michael's marriage to Deanna the Pharmacist Who Never Figured Out Birth Control and Grandpa Jim's stroke. The Pattersons are like family -- strange, passive-aggressive Canadian family.

Johnston is heading into semi-retirement, though, and she seems to be tying up a lot of loose ends, in not exactly the most subtle way possible. Chief among her concerns is the question of which eligible bachelor will Elizabeth Patterson choose as her life-mate. All evidence suggests that Johnston intends to have her wind up not with the devil-may-care helicopter pilot, not with the studly police officer from the arctic wilderness, but with her high school flame Anthony, the schlubby divorced accountant who lives in her hometown, has full custody of his pre-school daughter and enjoys amateur astronomy.

Shaenon K. Garrity has posted a brilliant and impassioned essay about why the Liz/Anthony match is so very wrong and infuriating. I can't think of anything to add. "Attaboys" go out to the Comics Curmudgeon for bringing Shaenon's rant to my attention.

Books I'm Not Reading -- "The Android's Dream"

Countless bloggers write about the books they're reading. I've decided to take a different tack.

Every week, I receive dozens of review copies for upcoming science fiction and fantasy releases. Eight out of ten are immediately discarded after only a cursory inspection. (They're not thrown away, but donated to the San Francisco Library. I think.) Of all the remainder, one or two are elevated quickly to "Must Review" status. The rest go into the "Maybe, I Dunno" pile, where they sit for a couple of months. One or two titles might emerge and be read, but most eventually make that final trip in a plastic USPS bin to the library. Ave atque vale ARCs.

This feature, then, is a salute to the also-rans, the books I never get around to reading, for one reason or another. Perhaps my reasons for not reading them will prove instructive.

First up is John Scalzi's "The Android's Dream." I've heard many good things about this novel from the author of "Old Man's War" and "The Ghost Brigades," and I suspect that I would enjoy it, were I to read it. But that's not going to happen, at least not anytime soon.

The problem is that I reviewed both of Scalzi's earlier novels, and "The Ghost Brigades" even made my 2006 list of holiday recommendations. That's a heavy concentration of Scalzi for the San Francisco Chronicle in the past 18 months.

The same is true of Rudy Rucker's "Mad Professor." I favorably reviewed his new novel, "Mathematicians in Love," last month. Now comes this collection. Even though Rucker is a local author and a personal favorite, he's had his turn in the spotlight for a while.

Neither Scalzi nor Rucker should fee slighted. There are only a handful of writers whose new work gets a review from me in every single instance. I seem, for example, to be The Chronicle's default reviewer for Stephen King and Neal Stephenson. Folks such as Dan Simmons, Kage Baker, Neil Gaiman, Peter Straub and Jonathan Carroll can usually expect to fall under my scrutiny, but it's never a sure thing. I only review about 35 books per year, so I have to choose carefully.

More Stoppardfest Details

Since this blog is Google's top search choice for "Winnipeg Stoppardfest," I suppose I should pass along the link to the official site. It looks to be a really fun event. In addition to hosting various lectures and screenings of "Brazil" and "Empire of the Sun," those hardy Manitobans will also perform "Arcadia," "The Real Thing," "R&G Are Dead" and some real rarities, including "Enter a Free Man" and "The Dog It Was That Died."

If I had some free time, spare cash and a more extensive winter wardrobe, I'd definitely be there.

Octavian Nothing

After M.T. Anderson's YA novel won this year's National Book Award, my editor wanted me to review it and assumed, I guess because of the freaky cover, that it is science fiction or fantasy. Well, it's neither, but it's pretty good anyhow. I learned some things about the American Revolution that I hadn't really bothered to think about.

Here's the review.

Before the Year Runs Out

Before 2007 arrives, I should deal with the Stoppard-related links that have accumulated since the start of December.

In the wake of the Litvenenko murder, Stoppard was caught in the verbal crossfire when his seminar at the Humanities University in Moscow was interrupted by the crowd's harassment of the British Ambassador.

Broadway.com interviews Bill Crudup about his role in "The Coast of Utopia."

Dominic Papatola of the St. Paul Pioneer Press interviews Stoppard prior to his speech at the Guthrie. The Star Tribune has a run-down of the event.

Minnesota Public Radio produces an audio interview with Stoppard.

Over at Bloomberg.com, John Simon has little good to say about "Shipwreck."

But Toby Zinman of the Philadelphia Inquirer deems it "fine, emotional stuff."

Kathy Schwiff in Parsippany finds both the first and second installments of the trilogy "uninvolving."

Expectations Dashed, Exceeded and Met

I really wanted to like John Connolly's "The Book of LostThings," but it felt far too generic for my tastes. Diane Setterfield's "The Thirteenth Tale" was a pleasant surprise, given that I read it under duress. And Rudy Rucker's "Mathematicians in Love" lived up to the excellence of its predecessors.

Details here.

"Disappointed with the British Chatterboxes"

The Russian News and Information Agency weighs in on "The Coast of Utopia." One wonders what has been lost in translation. ("Stoppard exclaimed that British society had no democracy and was totalitarian through and through (!)")

Already Time for "Utopia"'s Next Installment

"Shipwreck" starts previews on Dec. 6.

Meanwhile, an enthusiastic review of the first part from the Philadelphia Inquirer.

And "The Coast of Utopia" was spotlighted on NPR's "Weekend Edition."

"Coast of Utopia" Reviews and News Rolling In

Newsday has a problem with the Act One, but is "hooked" by the end of "Voyage."

The New York Observer calls it a "strangely un-Stoppardian play."

Playbill.com has the details about the after-party.

The Gray Lady Weighs in on "Coast of Utopia"

The New York Times reports favorably on the opening of "Voyage."

Sounds like Stoppard no longer has to accost those who leave the performance early. He's probably in an even better mood now that "Rock'N' Roll" took top honors at London's Evening Standard Awards.

Merkin on Stoppard

On the eve of the "Coast of Utopia" opening, a long profile of Stoppard by Daphne Merkin in today's NY Times Magazine. One reader finds Ms. Merkin exasperating. Somebody else has more of a problem with Stoppard himself.

Run-up to "Coast of Utopia"

On Friday, the NY Times ran a handy primer for prospective Trilogy attendees. Check it out before it disappears into the pay-only section.

And the Moscow Times notes that Stoppard will lead a seminar at the non/fiction book fair, but details are spare.

My Book Picks for the Holidays

It's time again for The Chronicle's annual Holiday Book issue. I've selected 10 science fiction and fantasy titles worth giving as gifts. The authors include Kage Baker, Neil Gaiman, John Scalzi, Kit Reed and Jeff VanderMeer.

"Coast of Utopia" Prep

If you haven't already, check out Lincoln Center Theatre's site for its production of "The Coast of Utopia." I've mentioned the Backstage Blog, but there's also an interview with Stoppard and a Notes on the Play section, which will undoubtedly be expanded as the other installments of the theatrical trilogy are rolled out.

And Playbill reports that Richard Easton, who became ill during an Oct. 18 preview, has returned to the production and is ready for the official Nov. 27 premiere.

"Loose Seal!" "Lucille? Where?"

Although nobody has had a hand bitten off yet, life is imitating "Arrested Development" here in San Francisco: Rogue sea lion menaces swimmers!

Sorry, But You "Lost" Me Right There

It happened two episodes ago with the death of Mr. Eko. My son was asking me all kinds of questions about what the characters on "Lost"were doing and why they were doing it and I kept saying, "I don't know. I don't know." And I suddenly realized that the writers of the show probably don't know either, no matter what they say.

I simply can't imagine any kind of logically consistent framework into which all the puzzle pieces are going to fit. There are just too many of them, to the point of ridiculousness.

The Others in particular don't seem to make any sort of sense. They say they're the "good guys," but no one who acts as they do is so sociopathic as to say that with a straight face. And if I had a tumor in my spine, I wouldn't abuse the only doctor in my neighborhood and torture his good friends in the hopes that he might operate on me successfully. Off the top of my head, I can think of about a dozen more productive strategies.

I'm getting tired of all the torture and the nastiness and the total refusal to ask the most obvious questions. ("Hey, where'd all you Others come from? Does this island have a name I might have heard of? Do you know how that smoke monster thing works?") Watching the "mid-season finale" was a real chore. By the time Sawyer and Kate got around to the Dirty Monkey Love in the polar cage, I'd lost interest.

If you stop and think about it, every single main character on "Lost" is running some sort of con game, either on him/herself or others. I'm convinced the writers are doing the same to the audience, and it's really starting to annoy me.

I'll be back for more in February. But as Adam Sternbergh points out in New York Magazine, "Lost" didn't have to end up like this.

TV Vet Plays Stoppard Vet

Christopher Timothy, typecast after years of playing veterinarian James Herriot on the BBC's "All Creatures Great and Small," is finding great satisfaction in playing a World War One veteran in Stoppard's adaptation of Gerald Sibleyras's "Heroes."

The Stoppard Miscellany Continues

The San Jose Mercury News finds ACT's "Travesties" too clever by half

"Travesties" Wins with Timeless Wit, sez The Daily Californian

Inspired by the local production, the San Francisco Chronicle's Steve Winn discusses real-life travesties

Miscellaneous Stoppard Links

Cleaning out the old messages to find items of interest:

Unexcited by the first part of "The Coast of Utopia," Lawrence Toppman in the Charlotte Observer praises its star-studded cast

A profile of Gregory Wallace, who played Tristan Tzara in the ACT production of "Travesties"

A review from the Contra Costa Times about ACT's "Travesties"...

And one from Bloomberg...

And another from the San Francisco Chronicle

Lincoln Center's Backstage Blog from "The Coast of Utopia"

If you have a spare $350 for patron ticket, you can attend the Williamstown Theatre Festival's salute to Stoppard on Nov. 13

Two-fer

Last Sunday's Chronicle was just chockablock with reviews I'd written. In my regular column, I covered the latest from Stephen King, Neil Gaiman and Susanna Clarke. As a bonus, the monthly kids' book page featured my review of new books by Ursula Le Guin, Delia Sherman and Chris Humphreys.

For a Good Cause

Emma Burke writes:

I work for the National Library for the Blind in Stockport (UK) and during Right to Read week (beginning 6th November) we're launching a special celebrity signed book auction on eBay. We wrote to a number of celebrities and asked them to sign a copy of their favourite children's book.

One of the books in our auction is Peter Duck by Arthur Ransome which has been chosen and signed by the lovely Tom Stoppard for us. We were hoping that information could be put up on the website so that fans of Tom's will know about it and have the chance to bid for the book as we feel this is a real collectors item. Our eBay site will go live on Thursday 9th November, but we've created a holding page on our website for fans to visit to check when the bidding can begin.