Joker in the pack

Darkmans
by Nicola Barker


Near the beginning of this vast novel there is moment of schadenfreude.

'At approximately the half-way point, his trousers started slipping; the fabric locked just above his knees, and he tumbled. It was a dramatic fall - a jester's fall - with all the additional frills and embellishments.
Beede closed his eyes (in an effort to repress a sharp bark of laughter-

Where did that urge come from?)

- then he turned his face away, waited patiently for a slight lull in the traffic, and moved implacably onward.'

I mention it because it is a good example of a few things which typify this book. There is the textual wordplay, there is the mention of a jester and be assured there is a jester in this novel. Not simply the haunting presence of John Scogin, court jester to Edward IV, whose voice pushes its way into the text and who exerts his influence on several characters like a puppet master but also the author herself who peppers this book with so many nudges and winks that you can almost hear her chuckling away.

Set in Ashford, 'Gateway to Europe', this is, we are told, a very modern novel. But for Barker 'history isn't just something that happened in the past, but a juggernaut with faulty brakes which is intent on mowing you down'. She has given her characters Dickensian names; we have Beede (a venerable man indeed) and his son Kane (a drug dealer) whose relationship is so fractured that their meeting in a restaurant at the beginning of the novel is purely coincidental and they refuse to enlighten each other as to why they might be there. During their stuttered exchange Kane sees a man on a horse, dressed in yellow, but when he looks later to see a man dismounting he has mysteriously changed and become Beede's friend Isidore who may or may not be German but who is definitely suffering from some form of mental illness. Confused? We haven't even begun yet. Isidore's son Fleet is a very special child indeed, having built a replica of a church and medieval village from matches at home and frequently reciting history with more authority than any 4 year old could possibly have. His mother Elen, a chiropodist, seems to exert an extraordinary pull on the men she meets whilst hiding a livid set of bruises on her wrist. Kane's ex-girlfriend Kelly, a fantastic creation, is a foul mouthed chav who hooks up with Kane's henchman Gaffar, a Kurd with an extreme fear of lettuce. And we still have yet to meet the forger Peta Borough (!) who may have an explanation for much that happens in the 838 pages of what is an exhilarating and far from disorganised journey through a couple of days in this less than ordinary town.

It is easy to see why the Booker jury found it difficult to award the prize to a novel that is bursting with so many ideas. Even the text is uncontrollable, punctuated by parenthesis and italicised interruptions from the jesting spirit but as the forger Peta says; 'language won't be restricted. Because language is uncontainable. Like a fast running river. It bubbles up and splashes and spills'. For some it may be a quirk too far but I found it an incredibly unsettling experience to read a text so unrestricted and felt the genuine horror of the characters as they found themselves no longer in control of the words that left their mouths. It is all done with such humour as well. Barker has created some brilliant comic characters in Kelly Broad, daughter of the infamous Dina ('Jabba the Hut with a womb, chronic asthma and a council flat'), whose filthy utterances continue unabated even after she has a close brush with God. Gaffar too provides some classic moments, his frustrations voiced in Kurdish and printed clearly for us to read in bold Gothic type. As he watches the classic documentary Touching The Void with Kane it is Kane who observes 'one irreducible fact is that people who climb mountains are invariably cunts.'

What this all means is harder to decipher but there is plenty of fun to be had with the past, as another character mentions; 'It's a fascinating business. Kind of like solving a crime. Like unravelling a mystery story. All the clues are in the text and your job is simply to sniff them out'. Which isn't to say that it's any fun for the characters involved. Far from it. The jester Scogin is a malevolent influence on this novel as you would expect from a man who became notorious for locking several beggars in a barn and then burning it to the ground.

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Crowning Glory

Knocked Up

I didn't go to see Knocked Up when it was first released for the simple fact that my wife was 8 months pregnant at the time, I had heard that there was an infamous 'crowning' scene and, hey, we weren't quite ready to watch that sort of thing for entertainment. A few months down the line and sufficiently recovered from our own crowning scene we settled down to watch the film (albeit frequently interrupted by the cries of our new arrival).

Slacker Ben is quite happy dossing around with his flatmates, smoking weed, as they work on a website which provides the timings and details of your favourite movie stars nude appearances. On a night out he has the good fortune to meet career girl Alison who is out celebrating her promotion and after a few drinks too many the two share a one night stand. After the predictably uncomfortable morning after they go there seperate ways only for Alison to discover 8 weeks later that she is pregnant. We then follow the trials and tribulations of this mis-matched couple as they try to prepare themselves for the birth.

There are a few credibility issues with the storyline for sure, but this is a romantic comedy and the important thing is that it contains laugh after laugh after laugh. The piss-taking amongst the guys is relentless and Seth Rogen is perfect in the role of Ben with one of the most ridiculous laughs since Eddie Murphy. Katherine Heigl is sweetly confused as she goes through the various stages of pregnancy. The supporting cast is great too (there are clear advantages to a director casting his own wife and kids) with Paul Rudd putting in another great performance. Yes, there are a few sentimental moments but they are always counter-balanced by something a little gross or bittersweet and all in all it makes for one of the funnier romantic comedies in years.

The DVD contains a few funny extras too including some genuine gross-out moments in a short film about shooting the rollercoaster scene.

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McSweeney's at 25

I have been an occasional subscriber to McSweeney's (or Timothy McSweeney's Quarterly Concern to give it its full title) over the years and as the 25th issue recently came through my letterbox, marking a sort of anniversary, I thought it might be worth having a look back at this most curious and ground breaking of journals.

McSweeney's was begun by Dave Eggers in 1998 shortly before the publication of his memoir A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius which went on to become a huge commercial and critical hit. It provided the opportunity for young writers to be published alongside some of the more established voices of American fiction; The first issue included pieces from David Foster Wallace and Rick Moody as well as early work from Ana Marie Cox and Adrienne Miler, all of which had been rejected previously by other magazines. What immediately marked it out was its tone. This was a literary journal that was fun, that had a sense of humour, that was, dare I use the word, quirky. From the copyright page to the list of contributors at the back no seemingly mundane page is left untouched by the impish desire to confound your expectations -God is in the details.

With the fourth edition there was a change in style. The black and white book was replaced by a cardboard box filled with 14 individual booklets, each with its own illustration. From there McSweeney's hasn't looked back, trying with each issue to find new and more inventive ways of presenting its wares. This has included the use of large rubber bands, a cigar box, magnets, playing cards and a free comb. Some have been beautiful like issue 13 with an elaborate fold-out dust jacket created by Chris Ware. Others have been quirky for quirky sake like issue 17 which came as a bundle of mail which seemed to conceal the fact that there wasn't much to actually read. I am prepared to admit that I'm a sucker for a beautiful book, some editions are a joy to behold and I find myself regularly pulling them off the shelves for a quick flick. There is also no doubt that some of the pieces are excellent but as someone who has yet to truly appreciate the short story form I have found myself getting most pleasure from the odd and unexpected non-fiction articles.

So the journal has become admired as much for its artistic exterior as the quality of the writing inside (and maybe not always staying on the right side of that balance) but it is what else McSweeney's has become that makes it groundbreaking. There is McSweeney's Books which maintains the high publishing standards with both fiction and non-fiction covering everything from the criminal justice system to 'How to Dress for Every Occasion' by The Pope. There are now two other journals; The Believer edited by Eggers' wife Vendela Vida among others and containing book reviews and interviews, and also Wolphin a quarterly DVD magazine featuring short films, documentaries and animation. Gathering all of this together is McSweeney's Internet Tendency, the website, which contains new items daily.

But on top of all this publishing and most laudable of all is the creation of 826 National 'a family of seven non-profit organizations dedicated to helping students, ages 6-18, with expository and creative writing.' Starting first in his native San Francisco these youth writing centres have spread across the States promoting the importance of writing in the development of young people. Dave Eggers most recent novel What is the What has also drawn attention to the plight of those who suffered in Sudan, again particularly the children. It is very heartening to see a man channel every piece of luck, acclaim and publicity back into creating something new, something useful, something of a legacy.

Happy Birthday McSweeney's (and I look forward to issue 27 which comes 'in a windowed slipcase').

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Scotch Mist - A film with Radiohead in it

Broadcast over the internet on New Years Eve this is Radiohead playing every song on their new album In Rainbows. It's 53 minutes long so if you've the time and broadband then press play and enjoy. Happy New Year!

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Zodiac

I can still remember very vividly the night I went to see Se7en. I was with two friends and we arrived just in time to catch the start but not to get seats together, so we went our seperate ways and watched the film without that tiny link that you have when you're sat next to a friend, the ability to look to your side, raise an eyebrow, gauge what they think about the film. As the credits rolled we reconvened in silence and made our way to grab a bite to eat and it was a good few minutes after we sat down before we were able to articulate what an amazing experience watching that film had been.

A few years later I went with another friend to see Fight Club and when we both came rolling out of the cinema I wan't sure whether what I had just watched was the stupidest or most amazing film I had ever seen. David Fincher is an exciting director, no doubt, but for every Fight Club, there's a Panic Room, for every Se7en an Alien3. His films seem to alternate in quality and by my reckoning that meant I was in for a treat with Zodiac. And I was right.

I don't think it is spoiling anything to mention that this film is based on a series of murders which took place around San Francisco in the 60's and 70's and that remain unsolved. But just as James Ellroy's book The Black Dahlia was a compelling story not only of what might have happened but of what effect crimes like these can have on those who try to solve them, this film is a brilliant depiction of terror, detection and obsession.

The opening section of the film is actually the weakest, feeling like your average serial killer movie, and due to the extended timeline of the film and the fragmented nature of the action we have a lot of captions telling us '4 days later', '2 weeks later' etc. But as The Zodiac's taunting letters begin to arrive and we see the detail of investigation from both the police and press the tension really begins to build. Having mentioned his intention to attack a children's school bus the resulting panic will be eerily familiar to those who have felt the pressure of living in a city on terror alert.

The casting is excellent, Jake Gyllenhall gives another outstanding performance and particularly in the latter stages of the film, as he tries valiantly to piece together all of the disparate lines of inquiry, he shows how the victims of this killer were not limited to those he attacked. Mark Ruffalo and Robert Downey Jr are both excellent as well but Fincher has also assembled an amazing supporting cast throughout, there isn't a single weak. Having grown up in the area at the time of the killings Fincher brings a very personal touch to the material. The period is beautifully observed, the dialogue spot on and he shows great confidence in allowing the story to unfold slowly over two and a half hours. In one of his letters to the press The Zodiac said 'I am waiting for a good movie about me'. With this film Fincher has provided it but correctly focused on the victims rather than glorifying the killer.

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