Fantastic Metropolis

Fiction

I read fewer complete books in 2003 than in previous years, but I read a lot of short stories in numerous anthologies by various writers, notably tales by Brian Aldiss, J.G. Ballard and Ray Bradbury. I was pleased to discover the cunning potboilers of Arturo Pérez-Reverte, in particular The Fencing Master. Other renowned authors I read for the first time include Arundhati Roy, Oscar Hijuelos and Orhan Pamuk, all of them excellent. I also did quite a bit of re-reading, mostly of Italo Calvino.

One of my most significant new discoveries was the work of Zoran Živković. The man himself gave me copies of his books, including The Fourth Circle, Time-Gifts, The Writer, Impossible Encounters, Seven Touches of Music, The Library, Steps Through the Mist and The Book. I am currently working on an article about Živković which I hope to see published in the literary journal Wormwood in early 2004. For the meantime I’ll just content myself by saying that Živković is an amazing contemporary writer and that I recommend everything he has ever published.

Talking about Slavic fantasy (if such a thing exists) I would also like to put in a good word for Arkady and Boris Strugatsky and their utopian fantasy Hard to Be a God, which combines challenging ideas with colourful action in a typical Strugatsky Brothers manner.

My novella of the year is Su Tong’s “Nineteen Thirty Four Escapes,” one of the strangest and most evocative pieces of writing from this amazing writer. Without a single decorative flourish, Tong writes about the China of the 1930s and a disarming and troubling place it always turns out to be.

The best anthology of the year was surely The Thackery T. Lambshead Pocket Guide to Eccentric and Discredited Diseases edited by the amazing Jeff VanderMeer and Mark Roberts.

As for novels, I feel no guilt about plugging yet again The Non-Existent Knight by the incomparable Calvino. This time I even managed to get hold of a Portuguese version, courtesy of Luís Rodrigues. I therefore can justifiably claim that my favourite book of 2003 was O Cavaleiro Inexistente even though I can’t actually read it in this form. I assume the Portuguese translation is closer to the Italian original than the English translation. Most fictional characters don’t exist, but the hero of this book doesn’t exist even in his own fiction. In this way he is closer to the majority of the human race, who also don’t exist in fiction, than most fictional characters are, however representational of ‘real’ people they seem to be.

Apart from the Calvino, my favourite novels of the year were as follows:

The Malacia Tapestry, Brian Aldiss

A fabulously rich and scented feast of style and farce set in a world which has historical and histrionic parallels with our own. Perian de Chirolo is a poor actor who employs his talent to both rescue his flagging stage career and survive in an increasingly unstable society where change and innovation are regarded with fear and loathing. One of the strengths of Aldiss is his brilliant wit, which he frequently employs throughout this novel to deflate the pomposity of some of the characters and also to enhance the earthy humour of the created civilisation itself, which is a curious compound of Elizabethan England, Byzantium and the Venetian Empire. In terms of ethics and aesthetics, this fantasy resembles the books of M. John Harrison’s Viriconium series and it is no less sceptical and suspicious of escapism, but Aldiss, although frequently melancholy, is less deliberately dour than Harrison, his colours less muted and the swish of his capes less rotten.

Chromos, Felipe Alfau

This is the ‘lost’ novel of one of the most innovative (and underrated) authors of the last century. Alfau anticipated by several decades most of the techniques used by metafictional writers such as Pynchon. The manuscript of Chromos lingered in a drawer for more than forty years before being discovered and published by Dalkey Archive in 1990. Alfau takes as his theme the magical troubles of Spanish immigrants in New York, including the remarkable and unlikely rivals, Don Pedro Guzman O’Moore Algoracid and Dr José de los Rios, both patrons of the arts, absurdity and Café Telescopio, and horribly real among characters who are still in the process of being written. One of these latter, the unfortunate Ramos, has acquired the power of leapfrogging the painful segments of his life, a trick to which he becomes addicted as he grows oversensitive to minor sufferings, until he uses up his entire existence. This is one brilliant conceit among many.

When Dreams Travel, Githa Hariharan

Sumptuous prose and narratives with a peculiar and original slant are the result of Hariharan’s elaborate framing device, based on that used by Scheherazade in the 1001 Nights. Delicately strange, erotic and exotic, Githa Hariharan’s writing is also surprisingly refreshing and crisp. Together with Sunetra Gupta, Vikram Seth and Kamila Shamsie she is living proof that we are in a golden age of modern Indian literature, but there is something even more unusual and special about her style, for it somehow manages to be direct and pithy even at its most lyrical and ornamental, a trick which so few authors seem capable of. “The curtain rises. Darkness, that furry old familiar of night, spreads itself on stage. It means to stay, this sinuous, long-tailed night, moulting its woolly skin again and again, a thousand times if necessary. Or a thousand and one times—a safer measure of uneven infinity.”

The Poor Mouth, Flann O’Brien

A satire on the traditions of the Gaelic novel, with some of O’Brien’s most absurd scenes and funniest dialogue. A novel about poverty, rain and potatoes, not to mention sea monsters, immortals, eternal streams of whisky and catastrophic floods. The narrator grows up in a house in the west of Ireland and spends the remainder of his life accepting his fate as a Gael, which means endless troubles, thievery and the risk of being suffocated by gigantic pigs. He meets various characters who continue in their normal business of attending lethal cultural festivals and abandoning humanity to live with seals. This book is no less funny than O’Brien’s other masterpiece, The Third Policeman, but it deals with another type of Ireland, a further step removed from the already dislocated Republic which talks and thinks in English, a land which seems to be halfway down a pit of fatalistic misery and genetic incomprehension on a descent to hell.

Music

I discovered an incredible amount of music in 2003.

Some of the new acts I discovered include Kampec Dolores from Hungary; the Malagasy outfit Tarika; Tam-Tam des Cools from La Réunion; the wonderfully mysterious Belle Lumiere from Comoros; Sezen Aksu and Ebru Gundes from Turkey; the African funksters, Ephraim Uzomechina Nzeka and Sidiku Buari; the Latin dance maestros Un Solo Pueblo, Quinto Criollo and Tambor Urbano from Venezuela; Adriana Calcanhotto, Zuco 103 and a host of other glorious ‘Nu Brazil’ ambassadors; and various ‘Asian Underground’ acts such as Sister India, Ravi Harris and the phenomenally funky Ananda Shankar.

Bizarrely it was also the first year that I heard tracks by such esteemed acts as Transglobal Underground, Saint Etienne and Moloko. How I managed to miss them before I really can’t imagine!

The following are my top albums of 2003:

Deb, Soaud Massi

A gorgeous voice, beautiful melodies, politically committed but romantic lyrics, great musicianship from the likes of Hamid Djouhri and Mohamed Bennis, and a generous pinch of undefined magic combine to turn this album from the Algerian songwriter into a classic. Soaud’s beautiful ‘Moudja’ is so bittersweet it hurts but her ‘Yawlidi’ is bouncy enough to shake all that hurts to bits, even though it is actually quite a sinister song. Soaud’s life has been threatened by fanatics in her home country and she is now a self imposed exile in Paris.

Love Trap, Susheela Raman

A gorgeous voice, beautiful melodies, mysterious and seemingly ancient lyrics, great musicianship and a generous pinch of erotically charged magic combine to turn this album into another classic. More sultry than summer, more spicy than coriander, but paradoxically cool, Susheela has absolute command of her material. This album is a more than worthy follow up to her earlier SALT RAIN, which was one of my favourite albums of last year.

Parts of the Process, Morcheeba

Skye Edwards must surely be one of the most charismatic singers around. This album is a ‘best of’ compilation and the selection of tracks from Morcheeba’s previous albums is rather sublime, including such sparkling songs as ‘The Sea’, ‘Trigger Hippie’ and ‘World Looking In’, awash with shimmer and sweetness, and more groovy numbers such as ‘Blindfold’ and ‘What New York Couples Fight About’. Morcheeba are the masters of trip-hop but they also know how turn the dancefloor into a series of colliding tectonic plates.

Cobra and Phases Group Play Voltage in the Milky Night, Stereolab

Avant-Garde middle of the road. That is how Stereolab described their own sound and it is accurate enough. Imagine Sergio Mendes style vocals over layers of experimental acoustics all underpinned by swirling rhythmic patterns. The result is both familiar and new, comfortably weird and strangely comforting. Sadly multi-instrumentalist Mary Hansen was killed while riding her bicycle through the busy London streets in late 2002.

Gigi, Gigi

I’m not actually sure what the title of this album is, or even if it has one, but I have no doubts at all about the magic of Ejigayehu Gigi Shibabaw’s voice and songs, nor about the wealth of experience of the musicians who perform her compositions, names as luminous as Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter and Dereje Mekonnen. I first discovered Gigi on the excellent Putumayo album, Music from the Coffee Lands Vol 2, which also introduced me to Ceumar, Correo Aereo and Emeline Michel. The Gigi song, ‘Guramayle’ was one of the standout tracks from that compilation but her other songs are no less striking.

Beyond Skin, Nitin Sawhney

A deeply beautiful collection of linked songs, sometimes sad, angry or mystical, or even all three at the same time, sometimes more upbeat and funky. The album opens with ‘Broken Skin’ an infectious but somehow still wistful dance number. This is followed by two even more remarkable songs, the melodious ‘Letting Go’, featuring the lovely vocals of Tina Grace, and ‘Homelands’, featuring the gorgeous voice of Nina Miranda, singer from Smoke City whose ‘Underwater Love’ is still probably the finest song ever written about mermaids who fall in love with a drowning man.

Something Dangerous, Natacha Atlas

My favourite album of the year, a wonderful selection of tracks which demonstrates Natacha’s range and versatility and her willingness to try anything, even to the point of taking a back seat to other singers. Natacha sings equally well in Arabic, French, English and Hindi and she can adapt her voice to almost any style. The first song on this album, ‘Adam’s Lullabye’, is the ultimate mystery-drenched composition, dizzily reminiscent of the Cocteau Twins, as is the later ‘When I Close my Eyes’, but ‘Eye of the Duck’ is a raucous and absurdly catchy slice of Arabesque ragga with impossibly deep bass lines and lunatic keyboards and ‘Just like a Dream’ is groovily reminiscent of the great Bellemou. There are examples of Rai and Bhangra fusions, deep soul and even old time blues and ‘Janamaan’ is a powerful Bollywood style duet. Natacha is a goddess—I kiss the toes of her shadow!

This list is somewhat biased toward dance music, which makes me wonder about the sort of music writers of speculative fiction, fantasy or whatever you want to call it are supposed to listen to. I sometimes get the feeling our ears are exclusively reserved for prog-rock or alternative ‘indie’ rock. This is the sort of music I used to favour but in the past few years I’ve become more dance oriented, perhaps as a desperate yearning to regain my lost youth now that I’m quite old. Having said that, my youth can stay where it is because I’m enjoying myself a lot more now, so I make no apologies for the present state of my evolving tastes. I have nothing against Radiohead, R.E.M. and Coldplay, but at the same time I have nothing for them. I’m quietly confident they can live in peace with this situation.

Other

Film of the year: Divine Intervention, Elia Suleiman

All I can really say about this is that it’s probably the most visually original film I have ever seen. It seems to be all about unexpected (but everyday) symmetries and causations. The humour and rage are blended perfectly and the sometimes moody, sometimes deadpan, acting is extraordinary. Manal Khader has an astoundingly beautiful and effective screen presence and the soundtrack is remarkable. The one dimensional political aspect of the film might be considered a flaw by some, but this is in keeping with the impotence underpinning the revenge fantasy sequences.

Other films of the year

Cidade de Deus, Kill Bill Vol. 1, Run Lola Run.

Flapjack of the year

Brazil nut.

Ladies of the year

Nuria, Tammy, Amy, Jessica, Helena, Jingjing, Sarita, Caroline.

City of the year

Dublin.

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Rhys Hughes is the prolific Welsh author of Nowhere Near Milkwood (Prime Books, 2002) and Stories from a Lost Anthology (Tartarus Press, 2002). His homage to J. L. Borges, A New Universal History of Infamy, will be on the shelves in early 2004 from the Ministry of Whimsy Press.