01…..Holloway Road
02…..Computer generated works of art
03…..Roundhouse (not the Chuck Norris version).
04…..London Design Festival 1 and 2
05…..Selling to students of English literature
06…..Glass Books of the Dream Eaters
07…..Rock and roll
08….On Holbein and image making
09…..Sensational front pages
10…..Battersea
11…..Autumn
12…..Fashion Advice.

Thought I’d better make it official: Treacle’s on hiatus. Or gone fishing, if you can imagine ‘Treacle’ and ‘Fishing’ in the same scene. Numerous reasons – Akane’s started a new job, we’ve been house hunting, and I’m spending a bit more time on some other non web writing projects. We might be back at some point, but thanks for the emails and comments, we had a blast If you want to keep up to date with me, I’ve been much better at updating my own blog, The Wired Jester.

-Alex.

Update: Fixed now, I think. If you see anything weird – or orange – then hit refresh…

Last year I subscribed to ‘The Glass Books Of The Dream Eaters‘ (previous posts 1, 2), a new novel that Penguin published in ten installments, which were then posted out to subscribers. It made quite a buzz in the blog world (Boing Boing etc) when it was announced but it seems to have all but disappeared now – Google cache reveals Scott Pack did post on it – and having finished all 10 installments, I can understand why. The final installment’s ending was disappointing, because it revealed some of the problems that had been lurking there all along: the underwhelming characters of the bad guys and the underwhelming achievements of the good guys; the waffliness and repetition; the tendency to narrate action in detail that somehow only served to make what was happening all the murkier; and finally, a sense of flatness, of ambivalence among all the characters about what was really being fought over.

All this sounds pretty bleak but the Glass Books was certainly not terrible, and the installments idea meant that I actually really, really enjoyed the experience of reading it. Getting something through the post that’s not a credit card promo is neat enough in itself these days, but Penguin’s art team really excelled themselves with the physical design of the books – they’re gorgeous. Breaking the book down into bite-sized installments also meant its faults didn’t really overwhelm it until the end, and its positive achievements – the interesting setting, the complexity of the quest – had more room to shine. The similarities between the blue glass and modern technologies like TV and the web gave it another fascinating dimension, too. I read most installments within a couple of days of getting them.

Ultimately, though, the Glass Books did disappoint, and it wasn’t the flaws in the writing that overwhelmed it – the killer was how poorly it compared to modern serials. Throughout, the fact that Penguin has “resurected the serial” has been a common line, especially in press coverage – but what else is most modern US TV drama, particularly 24? It’s 24 that I thought the Glass Books suffered most in comparison to – it has nothing on the tense ebb and flow of the fortune of 24′s good guys (in the Glass Books the goodies never seem on the up, the baddies always in possession of limitless power), and it can’t compete with the way that 24′s plot (when at its best) balances suspense, clarity and pace almost perfectly.

Finally, in 24, they’ve realised the importance of keeping the stakes high: 24′s depiction of LA may famously play fast and loose with the traffic and geography of the city, but it’s LA and real people that Jack Bauer is always trying to save – in the Glass Books, the completely imaginary world it was set in, and the maudlin cast of the heroes meant there was little sense of what was at stake; why the heroes and heroine were bothering to save the world, and what, indeed they were really saving. It wasn’t Victorian London after all, and it would have been better if it was, I think.

Finally, and it may not be the book’s fault, but what happened to the mooted community features of the Glass Books website? It remained in flashy, sealed ‘sell’ mode throughout the duration of the installments. A real shame as a forum would have been ideal.

I hope this doesn’t sound too negative; I’m glad I subscribed, and the installments always attract attention on my bookshelves, so I can imagine I’ll be lending them out quite a lot…

Update: Seems like I’m not the only one to compare the Glass Books to US serial TV. Check out this post on Comfortable Disorientation.

Rule Number 1: Make sure you business has a piece of wordplay or pun for a name.

Sadly, Nincomsoup (at Old Street tube) was closed when I walked past, so I couldn’t see if they’d followed rules 2, 3 and 4, which stipulate menus should be in blank verse (preferably iambic pentameter), cooks should rhyme and all meals should have a beginning, middle and end.

[The first in what will undoubtedly be a very irregular series of posts]

I’ve posted before about how much I enjoy photography exhibitions, and while the shows at London’s big museums always get the big names and the big headlines, over the last couple of years, the place I’ve probably enjoyed looking at photography the most has been The Photographer’s Gallery. Its free, small and never too packed – and while the shows they put on never sound that great when you see them listed in Time Out, they’re consistently surprising, and all the better for being shown in a small, intimate space.

The current two they have on are well worth a look: ‘Bound For Glory’ showcases colour photos from depression era America, and is the one that’s attracted attention from the press, but I actually enjoyed Bert Teunissen’s ‘Domestic Landscapes’ more. DON’T LET THE DULL TITLE PUT YOU OFF! Teunissen has taken photos of people in houses built before the widespread popularity of electric light, and consciously echoes the style of painters like Vermeer. The resulting images are big, saturated with colour and packed with interesting details.

If you don’t grab a coffee at the Photographer’s Gallery, round the corner is Cafe Vergnano 1882, a place which has been showered with praise from the Times and Time Out. The coffee machine they have is great, a massive, OTT Elektra, but like excellent coffee blogger (and champ barista) James Hoffmann, I didn’t think it was as good as the press have made out, and though far from bad, it doesn’t beat the awesome Flat White. Still, Vergnano’s location on Charing Cross Road makes for interesting people scenery passing by and the “1882″ the dust on the top of the Latte is certainly pretty.

Finally made it to Tate Britain’s ‘Holbein In England’ exhibition, which I’ve been desperate to go to since the end of the Summer! It was brilliant, but because pretty much everyone is on holiday at the moment, absolutely packed.

This meant it was difficult to get up close to the drawings, but sidling through the masses to get to the front was absolutely worth it; Holbein’s preparatory sketches were the highlight of the show. Beautiful and luminous, they manage the strange trick of revealing their workings as drawings, while also seeming incredibly natural and realistic, to the point that his later portraits have such inscriptions as: ‘Add but the voice and you would wonder if his father or the painter created him’. So you can look at a drawing, and see how Holbein used pink paper to provide ready-made flesh tones, the way he used chalks for shading of skin, particularly around the cheek and lips, and the ink lines that he deployed to capture the eyes in incredible detail, including tear ducts and eye-lashes – but what you will also see is a face so real and human that he or she seems to occupy the same space as you are in. This strange effect reminded me of Shakespeare (he and Holbein were only a generation apart, with Holbein dying in the 1540s, and Shakespeare hitting his stride in the 1590s); Shakespeare’s plays are full of reference to the illusions of drama and the stage (and to the power of illusions and images throughout life), and yet by acknowledging the limits of reality and ‘real life’, they seem only to represent this world more truthfully.

The Holbein exhibition finishes on the 7th of January; however, the National Gallery has his amazing painting, the Ambassadors in its permanent collection. If you’ve not seen it, go as soon an possible. It does not disappoint. John North’s ‘The Ambassador’s Secret’ is well worth a read for background on Holbein, his times, and the painting. And if you want to see what I mean about Holbein’s sketches, have a look at the Tate’s site, here.

[Image: From the Tate site,
Hans Holbein the Younger (1497/8–1543) George Nevill, 3rd Baron Bergavenny (about 1532–5)]

Apologies for Treacle having iced over a little recently; it’s in keeping with the weather, with the fact that Christmas always puts the crunch on at work, since we end up trying to cram in lots of work so we can take all the stockpiled holiday off. Hopefully I’ll be able to do some more updates over the Christmas hols though – there’s a lot of things I’ve got written on various scraps of paper with ‘To Do on Treacle’ written next to them

[Picture: My car yesterday morning - Jack Frost has been BUSY!]