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Alison ([personal profile] landofnowhere) wrote2025-09-24 07:29 pm

wednesday books have complicated families

My Life and Functions, Walter Hayman. Walter Hayman was a mathematician who worked in complex analysis, but I heard about him first because of his daughter Sheila Hayman, descendant of Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel, who made documentaries about her family history (I watched the one about her family and the Nazis, which was powerful, and have still not watched the one about Fanny, because I don't think I'm its target audience.) Walter Hayman had a life that was in some ways not that unusual for a mathematician of his time and place, but still had some interesting features: he was born in Germany, grandson of the distinguished mathematician Kurt Hensel. Kurt Hensel retired and then died early enough to be protected from the worst effects of the Nazis, but Walter was Kindertransported to an English boarding school as a child, and lived the rest of his life in England (excepting some brief stays in the US and other travel). He married three times, outliving his first two wives; his first wife became a math educator who founded the British Math Olympiad team (with his help); his second wife was his former grad student who had come to the UK from Iraq, and he converted to Islam for her (but still continued to be a practicing Quaker), and his third wife was a successful writer and businesswoman.

This all sounded interesting enough for me to track down his memoirs, though I found it a bit disappointing, in particular because it didn't go into detail about the things I was most curious about. The sections about his early years were the best, but after that it became rushed. The title is appropriate; he does sometimes switch abruptly from reminiscences to a mathematical discussion (which I could follow but is not my field). However, I did learn details I'm not sure I actually wanted to know about his relationship with his former grad student who he eventually married, which was even more problematic than that description makes it sound like. It's interesting that he spent his life around smart, influential women; in addition to his wives, his Ph.D. advisor was the groundbreaking Mary Cartwright, and he had four daughters who all went on to have successful careers. But he doesn't come off as particularly feminist or thoughtful about gender.

The Summer War, Naomi Novik. This is a fairy tale novella, using many of the classic tropes, and a well-constructed one, as one would expect from Novik. I enjoyed it.

Teresa, Edith Ayrton Zangwill. Like the last Ayrton Zangwill I read, this is a un-proofread OCR'd copy: the book has just entered Distributed Proofreaders and will be on Project Gutenberg when fully proofread (at which point I expect I'll post about it again!). As I've come to expect from Edith Ayrton Zangwill, the writing is great, the social commentary is excellent, and I gulped the whole thing down in a day. The book feels like a response to Middlemarch, specifically the prologue that talks about all the latter-day analogues of St. Teresa of Avila who didn't reach their full potential, and this book's Teresa could be one of them (some characters compare her in-book to her saintly analogue).

Teresa starts the book as an idealistic girl fresh out of boarding school with a strong and inflexible sense of morality learned from her mother, who is a relic of the Victorian era but also a committed socialist -- and the theme of socialism throughout the book really helps Teresa's morality not come across as mere priggishness. (Vicki, who I am very grateful to for scanning the book from the British Library, commented that Teresa reads as possibly on the spectrum, and I think she has a good point there.)

Like The First Mrs. Mollivar, this is a story about two people who never should have gotten married to each other, and how they navigate being married anyway. Also like it, there is lots of good parts in there that is not just about the miserable marriage; I particularly liked Teresa's badass lady doctor cousin, though I'm sad that her roommate got shuffled out of the way to make room for a heterosexual love interest (the book does not use its femslash potential).
yhlee: a stylized fox's head and the Roman numeral IX (nine / 9) (hxx ninefox)
yhlee ([personal profile] yhlee) wrote2025-09-24 09:32 pm
Entry tags:

Candle Arc #1: watercolor version (web)



Candle Arc #1, color version, at [community profile] candlearc just to keep it corralled. Note that it's viewer discretion advised on account of cuss words, violence, and hexarchate-typical awfulness.

UPDATED: Alternately: Candle Arc #1 on its own website at Candle Arc (candlearc.com).

I have the Ka-Blam setup in progress so fingers crossed I can make it available via print-on-demand at Indyplanet in the nebulous future, depending on how orchestration homework is going. /o\

Preview & update notifications at Buttondown. (This is an email newsletter, but it's archived online. You do not need to sign up.)
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sartorias ([personal profile] sartorias) wrote2025-09-24 10:28 am
Entry tags:

(no subject)

I'm up here at my sister's, not quite a hundred miles north of home, while the new floors are put in. It's all SoCal, and yet a completely different microclimate. I woke to the tut-tut-tut of some bird we don't ever hear at home, and other chirps and twitters equally unfamiliar. Over that, though, the very familiar caw of crows.

As I did the morning walk with the little dog, and listened to the local crows up in the eucalyptus and pines, I wondered if the crows that follow me at home were watching for me to come. Now that the sun is lowering a bit, we're back to increasing numbers, so I might have thirty or so swirling around me when I throw unsalted peanuts out. so exhilarating to watch them!

Here they don't know me, of course, so the calls can't be to let me know they are there. I'm sure the lives of humans are ignorable, except as annoyances that send them into the trees. I wondered about that sky civilization as I trod the path to the dog park. So much going on at the tops of the trees, that we barely notice!

It's such a relief not to be toiling with packing, though of course unpacking lies in wait to pounce when I get back. Then I'll only have three or four days before I take off for my October east trip, so most of my share of the unloading will await me on my return. The big job (and the fun one) is the library.

Speaking of, since it's Wednesday, let's see, what have I been reading? The Military Philosophers by Anthony Powell, which is part of a book discussion that I've been following since the start of the year. One book a month in Powell's A Dance to the Music of Time series. The discussion happens at the start of each month over Zoom, and what interests me is how folks from either side of the Atlantic read the work. Also, non-genre reading. This time I'll be on the train when the discussion rolls around, so I hope I have connectivity, but if not I'll listen to the recording. At least that way I can skip ahead if the fellow who leads it gets prolix over an obvious point as he has a tendency to do. The academic curse; students above a certain age level are too polite to say 'Zip it! We got the idea already." (High schoolers had no such restraint, and middle schoolers invariably signalled boredom by more physical means.)

Anyway I had the leisure, for the first time in a couple of months, to make chocolate chip cookies. So I can have those and tea and do some reading. Heigh ho, I will go do that now.
sistawendy: me in a Gorey vamp costume looking up (skeptic coy Gorey tilted down)
sistawendy ([personal profile] sistawendy) wrote2025-09-24 06:38 am
Entry tags:

Welcome home, Miss Bitch.

After I unpacked, I got a wild hair and went to the open decks night at the Blue Moon. Some great tunes, some less great tunes. Dawgs. Stickers. Ravers. Happiness.

But then I got tired from my cross-country trip and headed for the bus. When I got to the stop, there was an older White woman talking at a younger Black man. He was irritated enough to leave the bus shelter and walk past me a few steps. But the old lady followed him. At some point she said blah blah "you people" blah blah, and that's when I spun around to look. I thought that it might be a come-get-your-girl moment.

The young man looked me in the eye and gestured for me to stay out of it. I gestured to him that I couldn't even hear her over the four lanes of traffic right behind me.

Shallow fashion details, because they're germane: I was wearing a 1950s-inspired dress with a rose-and-spider-web print, and the steel necklace that my mother gave me that looks like pearls, and MAC Ruby Woo lipstick. I was dolled up a little because that's how I roll.

The old lady turned to me and said something like, "Her people don't even give a shit. Do you even know what the NAACP is?"
"Yes," I said. I didn't interrogate her about who "her people" are.
The old lady went back to the bus shelter.
"Are you OK?" the young man asked.
"I'm fine. What about you?"

The bus arrived mercifully soon after that. I got on first and the old lady said, "Get on the bus first, Miss Bitch!" I hadn't noticed that she was shuffling a bit, and the doors had opened right in front of me.

Fun fact: the old lady got off in the middle of Wallingford. That's at least the second time I've seen an elderly transit pest get off there. Coincidence? I hope so for the sake of Wallingford residents.

Y'know, I just spent a week riding transit all over the New York city area and I didn't encounter anyone like this on transit, even after midnight. I come home and it happens within two hours of walking out my front door. Christ on a pogo stick. Having been until recently the daughter of someone like that, I'm still not sure what to do about them: the really irritating, possibly partially functioning ones.
sistawendy: my 2006 Prius at the dealership (Prius)
sistawendy ([personal profile] sistawendy) wrote2025-09-24 05:52 am
Entry tags:

New York City, part 7 of 7

Greetings from the Devil Girl House!

Monday was largely about the eetz: on a tip from [personal profile] neurosismancer I went to Xi'an Famous Foods in Chelsea and had the lamb noodles. Fan-damn-tastic! Yeah, they're cheap eats, but they're great cheap eats.

I took a recommendation that I got Saturday night and jumped on the L train to Brooklyn, just to see what I could see. It was reassuringly normal at Graham Ave, a neighborhood with no skyscrapers; pedestrians of all ages; a high fraction of residential property, most of it from before this century; and businesses some of which sell stuff that people need. There was a big mural of one woman pouring coffee for another woman. The former wore a necklace reading "Boricua"* and the other one wore one reading "Italiana". That was the vibe I got.

From the Dept. of Mystery: what's up with the popularity of Union Square station on the L train? A whole lot of people either get off there coming from Brooklyn, or get on there going to Brooklyn. I even checked for large employers nearby, but I didn't see any. Sure, it's a transfer stop, but there are a lot of transfer stops in lower Manhattan.

Got pierogis at Veselka — another restaurant tip from [personal profile] neurosismancer — over in the east village and conveniently close to the L train. Honestly, I think I should have ordered them fried instead of boiled. But Veselka is a pretty big place with tasty food and fast service in a neighborhood settled by east Europeans. The have borscht and deserts I'd never heard of.

I allotted more time than I needed to get to JFK. Maybe it's just as well that my subway ride from midtown Manhattan to outer Queens was mellow: I got conflicting information about where my A train was going**. The conductor*** settled the matter over the train's PA. The glory of the subway is that it resulted in only a seven-minute delay somewhere underneath Brooklyn.

Farewell, New York. Too much is just about right.



*A Puerto Rican. I'm pretty sure only Puerto Ricans use that word.
**To get to JFK, you want the A train to Far Rockaway, not Lefferts Blvd. AKA Ozone Park. The A forks like London's Northern line.
***Most of the recorded subway announcements don't have a New York accent. Real live MTA employees, however, do.
redbird: closeup of me drinking tea, in a friend's kitchen (Default)
Redbird ([personal profile] redbird) wrote2025-09-23 10:20 pm

bi visibility day

Happy bisexual visibility day, everyone! In case anyone doesn't know, I'm bi, and yes, some of us are greedy and enjoy having partners of more than one gender.
redbird: closeup of me drinking tea, in a friend's kitchen (Default)
Redbird ([personal profile] redbird) wrote2025-09-23 04:49 pm
Entry tags:

lunch with friends of Adrian's

One of [personal profile] adrian_turtle's comrades from the hav invited the three of us to have lunch in their yard today, after Rosh Hashanah services. We all had a good time--I hadn't met either R or their partner Peter before, and I liked them both, as did [personal profile] cattitude (as did Adrian, of course). We sat and talked for a couple of hours: the three of us brought a vegetable frittata and an apple cake, both of which Adrian made yesterday; R. and Peter contributed salad, challah, and of course the location. It was the right amount of food for five people; we took home 1/6 of the frittata, and gave them the last slice of cake, since we have more at home.

R and Peter live in Allston, near the Packard's Corner T stop, so not in walking distance, but easy by transit. The conversation wandered, as good conversations will. We were there for a couple of hours, longer than I'd expected, and I didn't notice the time until we got home and I looked at the clock on our stove.
sistawendy: my 2006 Prius at the dealership (Prius)
sistawendy ([personal profile] sistawendy) wrote2025-09-22 09:58 am
Entry tags:

New York City, part 6

I think I found the way to zen out in New York: sitting on a bench in Madison Square Park around 11:00 in the shade of trees, listening to a busker play sax across the park, and peeking up at the top of the Flatiron building.

And why was I in the neighborhood? To go to the Museum of Sex. I’m sorry to say that I don’t think it’s worth the ticket price, even if it does a fairly good job of showing how messed up the past was. I can only hope that things are better for future generations.

Then, much napping because of Saturday night.

After dinner, I made a pilgrimage: the Stonewall Inn, where the (modern, effective) queer rights movement started with a riot on June 28th, 1969. There’s a tiny, triangular park with life-size statues of gay activists talking about what to do next after the riots. There was also a memorial to a trans girl who’d been recently murdered by a family member. Outside the gate stood a bored-looking policewoman. Trust New York to produce some unsubtle visual metaphors.

The bar itself? Seems perfectly normal. It’s mostly men, natch, but they’re not clones. Yes, it’s a bit of a tourist trap, but not obnoxiously so.

Today’s plan: good eetz and Brooklyn.
sistawendy: my 2006 Prius at the dealership (Prius)
sistawendy ([personal profile] sistawendy) wrote2025-09-20 09:57 am
Entry tags:

New York City, part 4

I tried to take it easy yesterday in an attempt to let my feet heal. Read on to see how successful I was.

I took the subway to 86th & Central Park West with every intention of walking straight across the park to be at the Met (the art museum, not the opera house). The thing is, Central Park was designed to facilitate relaxation via meandering paths. So I got turned around in the park a couple of times, thereby exploring way more of it than I meant to. Favorite part: the big, OTT fountain where you can row boats. Less favorite part: serious cyclists hauling ass on what, it must be said, are well-engineered paths for them. They wanna ride, I get it, but the laws of physics demand caution from pedestrians.

But on to the Met! Which is gigantic! And the same price as MoMA! Navigation wasn’t easy for me: I ended up going up, over, and down to get to the Man Ray exhibit, nomming sushi along the way. During that wander I learned that a French artist in the 1870’s got grief from critics because the women in his painting weren’t pretty enough; most of the models were his sisters.

So yeah, the intensity of the “fuck you” that the early twentieth century art movements delivered to the art establishment makes a lot of sense in that context. And who better than Man Ray, MKA Emanuel Radnitzky, an outsider even to the Paris art scene where he flourished, to mess with things? He moved from painting to airbrushing, then basically invented contact prints (“rayographs”), made experimental short films, and made everyone from his artist friends to an Italian countess love looking weird in his photos. Yeah, he was clearly a het dude, but.

Here’s why you should always read the blurb: you might not immediately notice that the 16th-century Dutch print you’re looking at is porn. And at least when it came to ceramics, the Greeks got their act together less than 200 years after the Bronze Age collapse, in the so-called geometric period.

Recovered in my hotel room for a couple of hours. Had a fancy BBQ sandwich down the street. (I’ll be getting to restaurant recommendations today.) Then crashed at a reasonable hour in this time zone. Je ne regrette rien.
pegkerr: (Do what you will but I will hinder it if)
pegkerr ([personal profile] pegkerr) wrote2025-09-19 07:06 pm

2025 52 Card Project: Week 37: Gaming

I have been steeped in everything science fiction and fantasy for decades, but there is one thing I've had no experience with whatsoever:

I have never tried Dungeons and Dragons gaming.

I'm not quite sure why. Heaven knows I have dozens of long-time friends who have been gaming for years, and I've heard peripheral conversations on the topic at many a science fiction convention. Even around my own dinner table, as Fiona has long enjoyed gaming.

So when I sent out my call for ideas for Year of Adventure things to do, one friend, [personal profile] lydamorehouse, hit upon the obvious: why not join her group for a gaming session?

I went over to Lyda's house to consult, and she walked me through the process of pulling together a character to play. I was pretty lucky with my rolls, and Lydra graciously set me up at Level Four. After an hour and a half of questions and answers, I had a new character, a ranger, with a respectable level of skills to test out.

And that's what I did last Saturday over Zoom: I was invited to join the troupe of motley characters by a rather glittery dragon and came upon the assembled company at a windmill, where they were regrouping after their last adventure. I had to follow Lyda's prompts and ask a lot of questions, but I had a general idea of what to do. I spent a fun three hours playing with the others. We stashed some magical pastries, examined a magical rune book in a Bag of Holding, and tangled with a vampire. I took out my bow and quiver, stuck a garlic roll onto the end of the arrow, and shot it into his chest. This gave me the satisfaction of staggering him a bit--although I didn't have much of a chance to savor my victory since he promptly turned me into a frog.

I got better eventually and exited, following a wolf. But the experience was deemed a success for all concerned (and apparently I didn't grossly offend anyone), so I was invited to return for the next session.

I think I'm going to enjoy this.

Image description: Background, bottom layer: a Dungeons and Dragons character page. Overlaid over it: Center: an old-fashioned windmill building. Left: a darkly sinister male figure dressed in black, a wolf at his side. Right: a woman pulls back the string of bow loaded with an arrow aiming at the man, a bread roll (a garlic roll) affixed to the tip. At her feet: a frog. Upper half, semi-transparent: a screenshot of several people in Zoom conference. Hovering over the vanes of the windmill: a miniature dragon.

Gaming

37 Gaming

Click on the links to see the 2025, 2024, 2023, 2022 and 2021 52 Card Project galleries.
sistawendy: my 2006 Prius at the dealership (Prius)
sistawendy ([personal profile] sistawendy) wrote2025-09-19 10:45 am
Entry tags:

New York City, part 3

I was at the Museum of Modern Art, MoMA, from opening to closing yesterday. Duh, I loved it! You know how my favorite piece at SFMOMA is a big Rosenquist? Well, MoMA has a Rosenquist that fills an entire room: “F-111”, from 1964, with a pointed juxtaposition of consumerism and the military-industrial complex. Pity Rosenquist died back in ‘17; we could use more of that.

And the macrame craze of the ‘70s? Apparently got its start in downtown lofts here a decade earlier. And op art? Got a big boost from MoMA itself back in the day. Clearly, I love this stuff. My only regret is that I didn’t leave enough time for the gift shop.

I couldn’t help noticing the abundance of attractive women at MoMA, some of whom were gothed up. Sure, everyone knows sexxy deth chix are into art, as well as hot normal chicks, but they were surprisingly numerous.

As you might expect, the MoMA cafe has healthier, artier sandwiches than the Guggenheim. Not that the Guggenheim sando was bad.

Speaking of eats, I had a seriously mediocre dinner last night. I need to do more research about eats.

I also did something that locals tell tourists not to do: I took the subway during the evening rush. But the downtown E wasn’t bad; I’ve ridden worse on BART. I did see a packed A zip by, though. (The A is the 8th Avenue express. It zips by a lot of stations.)

After a two-hour break to let my feet recover, I got on a commuter train bound for Newark to check out QXT’s, the recommend local goth joint. But let me say that as tolerable as the subway was earlier, the last train to Newark was packed. Notable among the passengers were young delivery men with bicycles, who needed lots of space.

Edited to add: don’t be a mook like me and get on a PATH train at Penn Station if you’re going to Newark, because you’ll have to transfer in New Jersey where a bunch of arrival boards don’t work. Get on at the World Trade Center.

But anyway, how’s Newark? Kinda normal, and not in a bad way. People drive faster. It’s quiet after 2100. It’s America.

How’s QXT’s? Let me preface this by saying I knew I was going on a burlesque night. I would have gone Saturday, but I have (ahem) something else planned then. QXT’s is friendly, but the drinks and the sound are better at all of the west coast goth joints I’ve been to: the Mercury, the Coffin Club (PDX), the Cat Club (SFO), and a couple of defunct places in Seattle.

How was the burlesque? Not bad! There was an angle grinder involved, which reminded me of [personal profile] leenerella. Chatted with the MC during her smoke break.

Took a Lyft back to Manhattan, which was less expensive and more educational than I expected.

TL;DR: success.
yhlee: Alto clef and whole note (middle C). (Default)
yhlee ([personal profile] yhlee) wrote2025-09-19 07:19 am
Entry tags:

latest spinning

Ah, the art yarn of it all. :3

handspun yarn

2-ply from these singles:

sistawendy: my 2006 Prius at the dealership (Prius)
sistawendy ([personal profile] sistawendy) wrote2025-09-18 09:37 am
Entry tags:

New York City, part 2

First, a small surprise: there are some subway stations, usually the less busy ones, that won’t let you double back without exiting. So it’s good to be sure which train you need in advance, and for that, the MTA is clearer than Google.

I’m glad I’m a Florida girl who likes to dress lightly: the subway stations are warm and humid.

On to Central Park! Such mellow. Very exercise. Dawgz. Also a park bench dedicated to a late FDNY chief admonishing people to “check your smoke detectors or you’ll end up sleeping here.” Truly a New York moment.

But I had a destination on the far side of the park: the Guggenheim Museum, whose building, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, features an iconic spiral ramp around a central rotunda.

The building does indeed kick butt, with the permanent collection in side galleries that branch discreetly off the spiral ramp. Another New York moment: the Guggenheim’s curators mince no words about Gaugin’s gross attitudes.

The artist featured on the main ramp was Rashid Johnson, who I’d never heard of. He’s what was once called a race man: his work is full of allusions to Black and West African culture and history. I dug some of it.

There was a trans docent talking to a group at the top of the ramp. Go us!

On the way back through the park, I saw the obelisk from a distance, but I didn’t check it out because my feet were trashed. Two hours of horizontal time ensued.

After dinner, I took a C downtown to the west Village, wherein lies the most adorable and compact lesbian bar I’ve ever seen, the Cubby Hole. I ended up chatting with a trans woman who (of course) works for Google. We talked about trans things, boy howdy.

I’m not quite sure why I’m neither hung over nor crippled. I figured goddess wants me to go to MoMA as soon as I pay for breakfast.
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Elise Matthesen ([personal profile] elisem) wrote2025-09-17 08:46 pm

silly body continues to be silly, yet I trudge forward, for I am frikkin' stubborn

 In the course of dealing with silly body stuff with which I will not bore you, my sleep cycle got turned upside down again, so I am busy with various attempts at precessing back to a more manageable situation.

Somewhere in some book or other, a character said something about the phrase for having a hangover in a certain language was "my eyes are not opposite the holes." It's not a hangover, but when my sleep schedule is deeply out of synch and I'm trying to do stuff connected to the outside world's schedule, I kind of feel like my life is not opposite the holes.

How's your life matching your hours of access lately?
elisem: (Default)
Elise Matthesen ([personal profile] elisem) wrote2025-09-17 08:28 pm

Om nom: food combinations, or, playing with what's here

 So a little while back, for. my birthday I got various tasty things to nibble. One of them was salmon skin and salted egg crisps, with curry leaves in the mix, and some spice. Extremely tasty. When I got down to the bottom of the bag, there were a lot of little shards and crumbs that were particularly spicy. A mental note was. made for possible future uses.

Today was a future use. There wasn't a fresh vegetable in the house, but I wanted something with both softness and crunch, and wanted it to be in something that had umami plus. The last of the bread gave me toast. There was some braunsweiger (liver paste, Nueske's in particular) which went onto the toast, cut pretty thinly. (I am from people who like thick slices of braunsweiger on toast or bread, and normally I do too, but this was a special application, part flavor and part structural adhesive.) Then I spooned out some of the fragments from the bottom of the bag of salted egg and salmon skin crisps, laying them on top of the liver paste and pressing them in with the back of the spoon, and had it open-faced. 

Big win. Big tasty win. Especially the way the curry leaves went with the braunsweiger. 

Must remember this and make it again.

Part of the idea for this one was looking at the braunsweiger and wishing I could magically make a banh mi from the place in Global Market appear. So some of the taste combo came from that. Lettuce or bok choy or other green or variously colored thinly sliced vegetables, with vinegar or not, would have been great, but there was no such suppy in the house, alas. Although hey, there is a little new kraut in the back of the fridge which should get eaten up. Hmmm. Although we are out of bread now. Hmm. I wonder how it would be on top of ramen noodles. Pity that the boiled eggs are all et up.

Do you have any tasty kludged-together food that you are fond of? What gave you the idea?  

(My term for kludged-together food is "cream of refrigerator soup," which explains the tag. No actual soup was generated in this particular instance.)
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Alison ([personal profile] landofnowhere) wrote2025-09-17 07:51 pm

wednesday book about a Great Man

Gauss, Titan of Science by G. Waldo Dunnington, with additional material by Jeremy Gray. I mentioned in last week's post that during recent air travel I watched a movie with a dubiously historical version of Gauss and was entertained but ultimately would accept no substitutes for actual historical Gauss.

This is the biography of Carl Friedrich Gauss that I picked up off a university library shelf when I was 15, and made me go all swoony over Gauss's letter proposing to his first wife (link is to the original German manuscript). Returning to it with less swooniness and a more mature ability to evaluate historical sources, and also reading a new edition with helpful front matter, it's clear the book is not 100% "actual historical Gauss": it starts off with a version of the famous 5050 story, which is based on an anecdote that Gauss reportedly told about his childhood, but probably didn't happen exactly that way.

Indeed, as I learned from the front matter, G. Waldo Dunnington was a professional Gauss stan; one of his elementary school teachers was a great-granddaughter of Gauss, and learning that there was no Victorian Great Man biography of Gauss, he spent his entire academic career (interrupted by WWII) remedying that lack. Since I'm also a Gauss stan, I found the book generally readable if sometimes a bit repetitive, and enjoyed various fun Gauss facts. (In the department of obscure historical figures who ought to be fictionalized, there is Friedrich Ludwig Wachter, Gauss's student who studied non-Euclidean geometry and vanished without a trace at age 25.)

I'll probably do more Gauss reading (though also I now have an unproofread scan of Teresa by Edith Ayrton Zangwill so I may read that first); I've started with the letters online, but may also seek out other biographies. I continue to be fascinated by Gauss's youngest daughter, whose story would make a good historical romance; and having done some Gauss reading I'm starting to think I can actually write this fic.
redbird: closeup of me drinking tea, in a friend's kitchen (Default)
Redbird ([personal profile] redbird) wrote2025-09-17 02:42 pm

Massachusetts has updated covid vaccine guidance

I am happy to see that "should receive" the covid vaccine or booster includes infants; children and adolescents who haven't already been vaccinated; anyone with a medical condition that puts them at higher risk of severe covid; and all household contacts of anyone at higher risk.

Everyone aged 65 or older should receive two doses, six months apart.

All healthcare workers "should" receive the vaccine, as should anyone who is pregnant, contemplating pregnancy, or has recently been pregnant, and a few other groups.

Everyone else "may receive" it.

https://www.mass.gov/doc/massachusetts-2025-2026-respiratory-illness-season-covid-19-vaccine-recommendations/download

What I saw is Massachusetts-specific, but it says it is aligned with the recommendations of the new Northeast Public Health Collaborative, which includes New England except for New Hampshire, plus New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Delaware.
landingtree: Small person examining bottlecap (Default)
landingtree ([personal profile] landingtree) wrote2025-09-18 05:40 am

Recent reading was not actually all historical fantasy, I lied.

From Hell, by Alan Moore.

I wonder what this would’ve been like in black and white. This is a book about Jack the Ripper’s killings, and it was interesting to see when this edition’s colourist chose to use black instead of red for blood. I read it because a media podcast I listen to, Shelved by Genre, is doing a run of Alan Moore. I am more interested in the podcast than I was in this book. I want them to tell me about Jack the Ripper scholarship, and British comics takes on Jack the Ripper (supernatural elements thereof) and this book in its context. I think the book is good and I didn’t need to read it, I got to the end and went ‘okay, I could’ve stopped in the middle, but I guess I needed to read to the end to discover that.’

(Also, why would you call this book The Master Edition? Maybe I am too attuned by Le Guin’s thoughts about the word Mastery. Maybe they thought it through, maybe they thought it was apt for this book full of the deliberate symbolic weight of men doing violence against women and Man doing violence against Woman.)

Tripoint, by C J Cherryh.

Which is also among the kinds of violence this book involves. The first of them, anyway: actually the second not so much. I do not recommend this as a place to start Cherryh because the emotional dynamics of the start of it made me put it down and go read various other things I’ve just posted about. It makes me think that I found Merchanter’s Luck so palatable in contrast to other Cherryh because its main characters start out in positions of deep control and competence. Do they stay there? Are the places they start in healthy ones? Not necessarily! But there is a comfort to it. Which this book does not have at all, the protagonist has very little to hold onto in life except a bad relationship with his mother. Also, Cherryh does not miss the opportunity to invent a kind of hyperspace travel that involves physical discomfort and sedative-hazed dreams about incest that might drive you insane. There’s one Diana Wynne Jones story in which a writer uses the sensory experience of being tiredly slumped over a keyboard drinking coffee and trying to finish a draft novel to write umpteen heroic captains at the controls of spaceships battling through physical discomfort, and I want to reread it to see if I think Jones read Cherryh directly before writing it.

Anyway! Do the emotional dynamics of this book get less fucked-up by the end? …arguably they get more so, but in a more bearable-to-me-personally way.
landingtree: Small person examining bottlecap (Default)
landingtree ([personal profile] landingtree) wrote2025-09-18 04:42 am

Recent reading is all accidentally historical fantasy

I started with rereading A Song for Arbonne by Guy Gavriel Kay. I still like it! I fell off reading Kay at a certain point and am not planning to run to keep up with the stuff he’s written in the last ten years, but I do like going back. I had entirely forgotten the plot of this one, I enjoyed being swept up in it as though for the first time. Melodrama about the hinge-points of lives and kingdoms set in slightly-fantasy alt versions of bits of history: it’s Kay’s thing, he does it well. He gets more polish in later books but has the heart of what he’s doing here.

Notes: it is so easy to knock people unconscious with a sharp blow to the head and this never causes problems. Every named female character wants to sleep with the protagonist if the book considers them figures of desire (the two exceptions are, respectively, old and disabled.) The words ‘nuance,’ ‘implications,’ and ‘complexities,’ are used as often as they possibly can be, and it is funny to me that Kay loves the sense of subtlety so much he always waves at it with great sweeping gestures. This is a book that underlines everything in gold ink and then repeats it to be sure you noticed. That is a thing I enjoy about it, though I do have a dosage limit, I went in to reread one of the Sarantine books and two Kays in one month is too much for me. I finished it, but haven’t gone on to read the second half of the story.

But it does mean I have read two Byzantine books this month: I am awake at five am because of high billowing winds outside, so I just finally finished M.T. Anderson’s Nicked, a book about a Byzantine saint heist conducted by a monk who can’t tell a lie to save his life and a con artist who can never be pinned down on a truth. (They fuck.) I did not find this propulsive exactly, I put it down for a week here and a fortnight there even though it’s very short. But I do like it a great deal. It is funny, neat, precise in its blending of formal and informal language, vividly descriptive in few words, going off into flights of abstraction and poetry. I see why George Saunders is blurbing it. The opening invocation includes the line ‘Though I am an unbeliever, I pray for faith,’ and faith and holiness are things this book about stealing a saint’s bones for reasons mainly of tourism cares about and respects. Also, travellers’ tales from the period are true and there is actually a nation of people with the heads of dogs, we meet one in the first paragraph.

I am now listening to an audiobook of Kushiel’s Dart, by Jacqueline Carey, which I’ve not read before. One can guess from Arbonne that Guy Gavriel Kay is interested in bdsm because there’s a lot of power-play and erotic masked balls and people getting tied to beds by wicked seductress Italians. One can guess that Carey is into bdsm because the protagonist is the chosen one of the bdsm angel and receives training at the bdsm guild. This one is also set in fantasy-France (so I’ve gone France, Byzantium, France, Byzantium): there is scheming, mentorship, foreshadowed grief, sex, and people who despite living in a society consisting solely of incredibly beautiful people are even more beautiful than that. I am having a good time.
sistawendy: my 2006 Prius at the dealership (Prius)
sistawendy ([personal profile] sistawendy) wrote2025-09-17 09:12 am
Entry tags:

New York City, part 1

Getting on the plane was easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Props to my adopted hometown for getting its airport act together.

But next, a gripe: Alaska Airlines by default doesn’t really feed you on a five-hour flight.

I have taken the A train, famed in song. About an hour from JFK through most of Queens and all of Brooklyn to midtown, which isn’t bad at all. I got on at 2030, and it didn’t really get crowded until Manhattan.

And let me tell you, Times Square is bananas even at 2130 on a Tuesday. Times Square is also Blade Runner: everyone knows about the Jumbotrons everywhere, but even 15 floors up my room is behind two of them. I can see the access and support structures and some AC units. I may be a replicant.

I’m glad I’m staying at the W, though: everything works, and it’s convenient to everything. I let them upsell me because they have a deal with the Guggenheim Museum, and it’s definitely on my to-do list.