David Bellos and Alexandre Montagu, Who Owns This Sentence?

 

- Anybody in the publishing industry who is interested in copyright will find this new book absorbing and extremely enlightening. It not only covers in detail the history of how the notion of protection of creative works developed across the world over the last three hundred years, it doesn't shy away from robustly criticising the misplaced decisions governments have too frequently taken along the way.

- It's lucidly written, comprehensive, and very accessible. It doesn't get bogged down in legal niceties but it's apparent at every turn that the authors are fully across all of them. What is refreshing is that they don’t hesitate to call out bullshit when they see it. And they see it often. ‘…Intellectual Property continues to follow its long trajectory from the sublime to the ridiculous’. 

- The book's main focus is the corporate overreach that has developed over the last 50 years, particularly in the US. And the absurd protection given to all works up to seventy years after the author's death. This post mortem period was also adopted by Australia during the Howard years under pressure from the US. 

- The laws that create the opportunity to sequester and exploit creations of every kind for three or four generations do not have very deep roots and only the last few decades have they acquired such scope, length and power as to allow the accumulation of huge piles of money. That is why copyright now means more than it every did before, and why we need to understand how it suddenly got to play such a large role in modern life.

This book explains where the idea was first sown, how it sprouted, developed and ramified over centuries, and then, in a short space of time, was transformed into the biggest money machine the world has ever seen.

On December 16, 2021, SONY Music Group announced that it had acquired the rights to the work of 72-year-old singer-songwriter Bruce Springsteen: the New York Times reported that the sale price was around $550,000,000. 

...the tax it aims to extract from the global audience of Springsteen-lovers over the next century must run into billions.  

Andrew O’Hagan, Caledonian Road

 

- This novel, published in August last year, is a deliciously cheeky and satirical excoriation of English society. O'Hagan has a gift for wonderful comic writing. It's a scintillating, invigorating, skewering demolition. In fact it's extraordinary. O’Hagan is a genius. 

- It's full of interesting characters across the wide social spectrum. And thankfully, it starts with a Cast of Characters, all 59 of them. It reminds the reader who they are and how old they are. I kept flicking back to that every few pages. 

- The principal characters are Campbell Flynn, a professor, art historian and writer; his wife Elizabeth; Milo, a brilliant student and activist (‘A young Irish-Ethiopian with a taste for destruction’); Campbell's tenant Mrs Voyles, who is insane and lives in their basement; and some political and corporate high-flyers who are powerful, abusive and corrupt. 

- And there's the criminal underworld, mostly Polish and Russian, who run the drugs and illegal immigrant operations. At least they don't pretend to be righteous, unlike the entitled ruling class. There's barely a shred of dignity to any of them. 

- The novel is 640 pages long, with many threads and subplots, and heaps of detail. But everything comes together in a very satisfying way towards the end. If society is going to be radically changed, if the anger of ordinary citizens is going to bring about a revolution, if there's going to be justice in the end - then only a small minority will engineer and foresee it.  

- One thing I absolutely loved about this novel is the many quotable lines: 

Maybe that’s what postmodernism was in the end: the naming of emotion, as opposed to having it.

Like most pacifists, he's unbelievably aggressive. He wants to blame his mother for the state of the planet.

When he raised his head, AJ was staring at him. 'You are a middle aged white man' they said. 'And that's that'. 'Strange isn't it', he replied, 'that so many of you, who are so multiple, insist that the rest of us be only one thing'. 


https://www.abc.net.au/listen/programs/conversations/andrew-ohagan-novel-caledonia-road/103752056

Ian Rankin, Midnight And Blue

 

- This exquisitely boring and tedious new novel from Ian Rankin is only for rusted on John Rebus fans. I've long been one, so can say with confidence that even for them it would be barely sufferable. 

- There are far too many characters in the saga. The whole cast over his previous twenty-four novels are included - detective colleagues, bosses, prison officers, gang leaders and criminal lowlifes of all sorts. It's way too clotted and goes on and on - name after name after name. The reader can't help but get totally flummoxed. 

- We're in Her Majesty's Prison in Edinburgh, and Rebus has been a prisoner for six months having been convicted of attempted murder of a notorious career criminal. One morning a prisoner is found dead, the victim of a stabbing. 

- There is a subplot too, thankfully far more navigable and interesting, featuring the immensely likeable Siobhan Clarke, Rebus's long term close colleague. 

- The drama is propelled by dialogue, always witty and smart. That's the best part of the novel. 

- Read one of Rankin's earlier Rebus novels and avoid this one. (But don't read under any circumstances his two Detective Malcolm Fox novels. Fox is a cold, fastidious, bureaucratic, untrustworthy, knob).  

Richard Flanagan, Question 7

 

- This is a fascinating book. It's not just a memoir, it's a highly emotional mixture of passion, anger and reflection. I found it utterly absorbing. We're taken to Hiroshima and the atom bomb, the novels of H.G.Wells, the scientific geniuses Leo Szilard and Albert Einstein, Flanagan's mother and his former Prisoner of War father, and the colonial extermination of the Tasmanian Aboriginal people. 

- There are echoes of Flanagan's previous novels throughout, mainly Death of a River Guide and brilliant The Narrow Road to the Deep North. 

- Over the course of his life certain events have become seared in his mind, and his telling of them incites immense anger which the reader can feel and share. 

- Like this one: At 8.15am on 6 August 1945, bombardier Major Thomas Ferebee released a lever 31,000 feet over Hiroshima, said 'Bomb away!, and forty-three seconds later 60,000 people died while eighty miles to the south my father, a near-naked slave labourer in his fourth year of captivity as a prisoner of war, continued with his gruelling work pushing carriages of rock up long dark tunnels that ran under the Inland Sea.

- And this one: a war of extermination, a war the Tasmanian Aboriginal people finally lost... Exiled to slums and an island reserve and silence, renamed and reviled as islanders and abos and boongs and half-castes and troublemakers, they could be called any vile humiliation imaginable but what they were: the original human inhabitants of the island. 

- We're taken back to the origin of nuclear physics and the splitting of the atom. The scientist Leo Szilard was terrified the world could be destroyed. He was inspired by the futuristic novels of H.G.Wells, and it seemed obvious that Nazi Germany would become the first country in the world to develop nuclear weapons. That was horrific. 

- Humanity was likely to be extinguished. 

- And as for bomber Thomas Ferebee, look at the precision aerial bombing of France during the war, and the carpet bombing of Vietnam twenty years later. Many more thousands of people died than in Hiroshima. Ferebee was involved in both. Our American hero. 

- Flanagan takes us to his awakening as a young student in Oxford. The world there was grey… dreary and dispirited… where mediocrity was a virtue called tradition...The English were Martians. ‘Dirty little East End Jew. Go home to the colonies, convict. Women smell of slime, don’t you think? Hey, Paki - oi! Fif-faf-fuddle!' That was the true language of Oxford, its necessary language of hate.

- The final chapter is an exquisite telling of his near drowning in a kayak in the Franklin River. He was only twenty one and came very close to death. But, miraculously, he survived through the help of a courageous friend. He wasn't extinguished. As the world itself has so far survived. 

- And, by the way, his father lived until he was ninety-four. 

- Flanagan has written a thoroughly inspiring work. Brilliant. 

Inga Simpson, The Thinning

 

- It took me a while to comprehend what on earth Inga Simpson was on about in this new novel. There are some very strange and seemingly meaningless elements, and I was tempted to bail. Thankfully, I didn't. I started over again and read it twice. And was captivated. 

- It's set in the future, and the earth has been wrecked by climate change, ecological destruction, authoritarian regimentation, and abusive control of citizens and their lives. 

- A new subspecies of humans has emerged, called the Incompletes. They are infertile, but have higher levels of sensory perception. And they are disliked by other people. 

- The main character is Fin, a young woman whose father was a celebrated astronomer, and whose mother an astrophotographer. They join a small band of colleagues and become outliers, living off the grid. 

- Simpson keeps us in the dark on so many details, which I found frustrating. What year is it? How’s the earth’s population faring? Where did these Incompletes come from? And why? 

- But as the novel progresses in the second half, it gets far more dramatic and interesting, and in fact spellbinding. A full eclipse of the sun looms, and crowds of people gather in parks and ranges, determined to get the best viewing positions. What they don't know is that the astronomer outliers have a plan that will impact planet earth radically. They are determined to liberate humanity, whatever it takes - destroy space junk, power stations, gas wells, destructive mining operations, and reclaim the land by returning it to an inland sea. 

- As Fin reflects prior to the eclipse: What if the thresholds I long to cross are not portals to another dimension, but the capacity to fully inhabit our own? A way of circling back, into ourselves. Our best selves. What if we could see a way to make a new world, where all beings, no matter how fragile, could thrive?

- So take it slowly at first and relish Simpson's beautiful prose and love of the natural world. You will become absorbed. 

Iain Ryan, The Dream

 

- This new novel from Iain Ryan, the second in his promised four part series on Gold Coast corruption in the 1980's, is, unfortunately, a total disaster - unlike the first in the series, The Strip, which was brilliant in every way. 

- It's full of very unlikable characters, known at the time as the 'white shoe brigade'. They were ugly abusive thugs and criminals who dominated business development and the underworld. The police higher-ups were also involved. The Minister overseeing every aspect of it was Russ Hinze, a mover and shaker in the Bjelke-Petersen government. 

- In Ryan's novel they are financing and constructing Fantasyland, a huge theme park (presumably Dreamworld). There is cocaine, weed, and speed everywhere. And porn, whores and constant drinking. 

- Ryan immerses us in this ugliness. The story slowly gets richer and richer but there are so many characters who constantly pop up that you can't help but lose the thread. (A 'Cast of Characters' would have helped). As Bruno, the detective constable investigating the case reflects at one point: ‘Too many grim details circle this case. There’s a lot of blood and bad energy. The chain of events are fucking disastrous: a dead family, dead bank tellers, dirty cops, illicit porn, a motel room beheading. What is this?’.

- The storyline is way too complex. Baddies in every nook and cranny, all linked in mysterious ways. Some are gay, but homosexuality was a crime in the eighties. A few old men have authority over it all but they're obnoxious in the extreme. 

- I was hoping for a resolution that was emotionally satisfying, but it didn't emerge. It just got sillier. Dead bodies everywhere. 

- At least Ryan has documented how vulgar and corrupt the Gold Coast entrepreneurs, the police and the Queensland government were at the time. 

Emma Darragh, Thanks For Having Me

- This novel won this year's Readings Prize for fiction. Frankly, I don't know why. 

- It's about everyday family life in the working class burbs (we're in Wollongong) and has a distinct Young Adult feel, although technically it's not a YA book (there's too much sex). It's a chaotic jumbled up mix of kids, teens, sisters, mothers, fathers, rabbits, parties, sex, pregnancies, cassettes, Walkmans, 70’s pop stars, and dopey commercial TV shows.

- It spans four generations, from the mid-1900s to today. The main focus is on mothers and their daughters, and the mothers have a habit of deserting their husbands and kids when they simply can't take it anymore. 

- Vivian's life as a child, teen and mother is central. She hasn’t spoken to her own mother in years. Her experience of raising her baby, Evie, who won’t sleep, is the best part of the novel in my view. It's a dramatic and credible rendering and so well written. As a young adult Viv was a 'party girl'. A decade later, in an unhappy marriage, she leaves home, just like her own mother, and often considers suicide. 

- We spend a few chapters with the teenage Evie and her sister and school friends as they experience their sexual awakening. It's graphic. They are desperate to see an erect dick. 

- We also spend a lot of time reading about alcohol. On virtually every page. 

- Oddly, the boyfriends and husbands are not central to the tale, but they seem nice and normal and there's not a hint of abuse, sexual or otherwise. 

- All the painful drama belongs to motherhood.