ase

Reading, or rather rereading: Peter Dickinson, In the Palace of the Khans. I think this was Dickinson’s last novel, or at any rate very, very late on in his career/his life, and in some ways it shows: the underlying themes that would have been woven seamlessly into the whole story in a peak-Dickinson book kind of lie uneasily on top, not really integrated and as a result not as emotionally effective as they might have been. That said, Dickinson is one of those creators who’s still better at 70% than most people are at 110%. The book is set in one of his imaginary but plausible countries, this one a small Central Asian state called Dirzhan, where Nigel, the teenage son of the British Ambassador, is summoned to help the President-Khan’s daughter Taeela perfect her English. Nigel is one of Dickinson’s viewpoint characters who is good in all senses, without coming off like a Mary Sue, and spending time in his head is deeply satisfying (although I’m kind of sorry that the constraints of the book made it impossible to get Taeela’s POV too). There are also a lot of interesting minor characters—Nigel’s mother Lucy (a whole unwritten novel in herself), Mizhael “Mike” the Oxford-educated chieftain’s son who makes his living designing video games, his brilliant, impatient Singaporean wife Lily-Jo, and so on. Working out the central puzzle of the palace map is one of my favorite parts of the book (almost nothing actually happens, but it’s just as exciting as any of the action sequences), and the symbolic gesture which closes the book and allows another long-awaited resolution is wonderful.

Listening to some of Alma Deutscher’s more recent stuff, the Breaking News Polka, which is very cute, and the Japanese Fantasia. I like that her work is so neoclassical, but I kind of wish she hadn’t taken this to the extent of using two of the most predictable Japanese traditional songs possible for her classical variations. (At least she didn't use "Kimigayo," which is as jingoistic as any other national anthem and more than some, although I do kind of like it musically.) I’ll admit that “Akatombo” is much more interesting in her hands than when I hear it signaling five o’clock (linking back to my other endeavor, it has lyrics by Miki Rofu, son of Midorikawa Kata, and music by Yamada Kosaku, brother of Tsuneko Gauntlett), but Clare Fischer did sakura sakura better. I’d just as soon have heard what Alma would do with something by Mr.Children or Dreams Come True.

Jiang Dunhao song of the post (because it’s my post and I can): 选择的归路, an older OST that I like for the way it shows off his low range and slides back and forth between minor and major; the first shift to major, around 00:35-36, is terrific.

We’re doing movie music in the orchestra right now (almost done, concert coming up this weekend, knock wood [knock woodwinds?]), and just in case not everybody was sure of what the Star Wars suite was expressing, one of the oboists sent everyone a heartfelt manifesto on the in-universe context of each section (the annihilating force of the Empire, Yoda lifting the shuttle out of the swamp, Luke feeling the Force, Leia summoning help and so on) just for reference. Nothing I haven’t known about since I was fifteen, and I do think about it when we’re playing; I find Yoda’s theme some of John Williams’ best work, the main theme with the little clarinet interjections in particular always kind of makes me cry, around 1:14 to 1:24 here; but I was pleased to find the oboist signing his email off appropriately with “May the Force be with you!” (If we’d only pushed the concert date off by just a week, it could’ve been on May the Fourth…)

New class of Japanese learners at the weird high school, a big one this year with eighteen kids. Mostly Chinese (including one from Hong Kong), as well as two lively Nepali boys and one girl each from Thailand and the Philippines. Last year’s class featured two tall, slim, incredibly poised idol-style princesses; this year they’re all more typical fifteen-year-olds, personalities not yet coming out in full at their new school, although it’s fascinating to watch the subgroups forming already. Several speak good English and have to be told NOT to speak English with me when I volunteer in class, they’re here to learn Japanese! They have so far learned to introduce themselves with regard to name, age, and nationality, the last a little complicated; the Thai and Filipina girls are both half-Japanese, I think, and so is at least one of the Chinese kids, and since they’re all still young enough to hold dual nationality, they have some choices to make when it comes to this elementary piece of language practice.

Work: Somewhere in one of the Janet Neel mysteries, Francesca Wilson remarks “Fraud gets in everywhere once you have it, like moth,” and I have found that this also applies to mismanagement/incompetence at work—like, there is this one long project in which everything that could go wrong has gone wrong (not, for a nice change, any of it my fault to speak of). I think the root of all evil was the client demanding extremely unrealistic deadlines, and then the sales guys promising to meet them without bothering to consult with the people actually doing the work (sorry, I have a long-standing and permanent grudge against the people in charge of sales), but even after that there was a remarkable failure to do any of the elementary checking (spelling! glossary words!), agree on basic conventions, or do anything resembling version control. Like wrestling a plate of spaghetti, but it’s not like the spaghetti fork hasn’t long since been invented.

A couple of very silly things from long ago that came to mind recently, one talking with the brass players at orchestra rehearsal: way back in high school I had a friend who was a trombonist in the band, and who would bring her instrument to school on the school bus, as one did. One of the little kids looked at her getting on the bus one day with this big black case over her shoulder, and called out “Hey, look! Sarah plays the bazooka!”
Also, since we’re into baseball season now (a mixed bag so far), I was reminded of Deanna Rubin’s baseball musical, which remains a delight. (I should look Deanna up again—we hung out a few times many years ago and she was lovely.)

This is just plain bragging and I’ll put it under a cut: ( in brief )

Photos: My bassoon teacher’s magnificent cat, trains within trains, Shanghai-style fried dumplings (apparently you can tell because they’re folded like little paper hats, and yes they were as tasty as they look), and assorted flowers.

Be safe and well.