the heretic genetic algorithm

Jerusalem is massive. Literally massive. You know how you think Lord of the Rings or the later Harry Potters are big? That's peanuts compared to Jerusalem.

It even defies description in a lot of ways. It's about a special visionary family, Northampton and both of those through many tangled dimensions of time. There's a hell of a lot of philosophy. Maths. And linguistics. And a chapter on Bauhaus.

It is also literary, aping various novels and genres and in itself revealing a very expansive yet generally tight verbosity in Moore's writing that leaves every detail neatly, precisely and entirely described. It reminds me of Mervyn Peake on an amphetamin jag at times, to be honest. When I read it, there was much I skimmed and now only appreciate while going back through the audio book. It loops in and out like one of those table mats you wove from paper strips at Primary School.

It is intensely hard work. But very much worth it. I'm now a Moore fangirl.

This segues me over to By Ourselves. At just under an hour and a half, it's a much less serious investment. And there's an interview with Alan Moore. Who has a lovely voice *ahem* And as it's about John Clare's pedestrain journey from Bedlam to Northampton, there is more to link it than just fandom. Although there is either going to be some fandom or some patience involved as it's a studiedly "artsy" film at times with a lot of Iain Sinclair. The gentle bafflement of Toby Jones as the 18th century nature poet smacking against various underpasses and motorways saves the more grating bits of the film, and the claustrophobic and layeringly paranoid filming in black and white stock is genuinely starkly beautiful.

Up there with Field in England as a piece of weird folkhorror British film, but not as comprehensively mind fucking.

This wasn't actually something I picked up myself, but then happened to wander through my field of vision when I was in the mood for it, so I read it. Politically I seem to have gone straight from apathy to disgust, which is a bit of a shame as I could have done with a nice morally soothing bit in the middle, but the details are and probably will continue to be messily unravelled all over other pages of this journal. FWIW I did pretty much the same hyperspace bypass with religion. I'm continually my own worst enemy when it comes to making myself feel better, it seems.

Anyhoo. This is basically a well-written and quite interesting argument against cultural relativism. It's backcover-noted as a scorching polemic. Firstly, I take exception to the scorching, but then I am a vicious sweary bitch at times; secondly, the whole polemic part of it left me feeling a bit like the author went too far down the road of devil's advocate and ended up shooting himself in the foot. Probably because he was juggling a bag of metaphors at the time :P Basically, I was left feeling really unsure about his whole anti-ant-war thing, but generally agreeing with him. Unsure is ok though - I like to be made to think.