Peter May’s I’ll Keep You Safe

January is always an ‘interesting’ month, for as a new year commences - we all trudge back to our work, following our Christmas / New Year / Winter holidays.

Cognitively it can be hard to mentally re-adjust after the extended break. For bibliophiles we often look to our reading to keep us safe from the vagaries  [and randomness] of reality with its dark edges - as our thoughts from time to time create existential problems, as we contemplate existence [……as worthy as this all sounds……].

The last few years I have found award-winning novelist Peter May’s writing schedule rather helpful, for he has launched a new work each January. Peter’s writing is elegant, and for me a distraction from existential problems, as his narratives are always deeply layered with insight and compassion that cuts through the darkness, and the gloom that comes packaged with the two faces of Janus.

So it was a delight to join Karen Robinson of The Sunday Times, Jon Coates of The Express, Jake Kerridge of The Telegraph with writer / literary commentators Barry Forshaw and Nick Clee for lunch with Peter May.

Peter May’s latest work “I’ll Keep You Safe” sees a return to the Scottish Islands, like the work he’s most renowned for, The Black House Trilogy, which has garnered many international awards. Reviewers and literary commentators often comment on the evocative nature of the backdrop that May uses; making the location as vivid in the reader’s imagination, as the author’s characters.

As Peter’s new work “I’ll Keep You Safe” is released on 11th January 2018 in the UK and Ireland and on March 16th 2018 in US from Quercus Publishing, we’ll share what readers have in store; to help manage The Two Faces of January.

Husband and wife, Niamh and Ruairidh Macfarlane have come a long way with their cloth company, Ranish Tweed, from their small Hebridean home to the world of high fashion. But on a business trip to Paris, cracks in their relationship start to appear. When Niamh receives an anonymous email informing her of Ruairidh's affair, she is distraught. Only hours later Ruairidh is killed by a car bomb, leaving Niamh’s life in ruins. And when the police declare Niamh as the prime suspect in her husband’s death, her life as she knows it ceases to exist.  When Niamh is allowed back to her home on the Isle of Lewis to return her husband's remains, she is followed by French detective, Sylvie Braque. As Braque digs deeper into the couple’s relationship and Niamh replays her life with Ruiairidh, distant memories resurface and past feuds are reignited. As the past and present move closer together the two women find themselves drawn to a killer who will not back down.

We should point out the novel contains a very useful glossary of Celtic / Gaelic pronunciation to assist the reader.

Peter’s readers will be familiar with the high level of research that goes into his work, as well as how prescient much of his imagination is, and he kindly provided some background to his latest work –

THE DARK WEB

In relation to the criminal element of the story, I explored the so-called Dark Web.  This is the flip side of the internet we all know and use.  It is where you will find society’s creepy-crawlies when you take a peek into the shadows that lurk beneath. The Dark Web, however, is not really that dark.  It is a collection of publicly visible websites that hide the IP addresses of their servers.  Anyone with a modicum of IT know-how can access it by downloading a special anonymity browser called Tor.  Suddenly you have access to sites selling illegal goods and services in secure anonymity - child pornography, weapons, drugs, and the services of hitmen.  Payment is made, again anonymously, with the use of Bitcoins whose derivation and destination are untraceable.  Who knew it was that easy?

FORENSIC TECHNOLOGY

I delved into the world of ground-breaking forensic technology, where newly developed techniques allow investigators to recover fingerprints from bomb-blasted particles.  Previously both criminals and investigators believed fingerprints were obliterated by bomb blasts.  That was indeed the case with conventional fingerprints.  It meant that bomb-makers were unconcerned about leaving fingerprints, on the basis they would be destroyed anyway.  However, a new type of fingerprint has recently been discovered.  It is left by the oily residue of the fingers which when exposed to extreme heat reacts chemically with metal, effectively etching itself invisibly into the casing of a bomb. Undetectable by conventional procedures, these fingerprints can now be recovered by applying a powerful electrostatic charge to the piece under examination, then dusting it with a fine carbon powder.  And bingo!  There is the fingerprint which had previously been so undetectable.

BODY PARTS AND BURIAL

Ruairidh’s death in a car explosion means there is very little of him left to repatriate for burial.  I wanted to explore the practicalities of this.  A consultation with my pathology adviser, Dr. Steve Campman, introduced me to the complex set of international rules and regulations that govern the transportation of human remains by commercial airlines.  What was left - a limited number of pieces of charred flesh and bone - would be vacuum sealed in plastic bags following examination by a pathologist.  A State-approved undertaker would supply the requisite paperwork once he had sealed the bags in a leakproof container. Only then would an airline accept the remains for transportation. These are the awful practical mundanities in the aftermath of such a death, and I thought it was important for Niamh to be seen dealing with the shock of them.  There was also the question of burial when the box was flown back to the island.  The French investigators would not allow it, but also there are no crematoria in the Outer Hebrides. So I went to visit the only funeral director on the Isle of Lewis, Alasdair Macrae. He suggested the tiny coffin containing Ruairidh’s remains would be placed within a normal-sized coffin and braced to prevent movement when the bearers carried it to the grave. I was also keen to respect island tradition in my portrayal of the burial itself.  When I first went to the islands nearly thirty years ago, women did not go to the graveside and usually they would not even take part in the procession.  However, I was fortunate on the day I went to the cemetery at Dalmore Bay on the west coast of Lewis - where the burial was to take place in the book - there was an actual funeral in progress.  I witnessed a rare occasion, where the female mourners led the procession to the graveside carrying flowers, while the men followed on with the coffin. It was perfect for the circumstances of the burial that I planned to write, allowing me to break with island conventions describing events at the cemetery.  I watched with fascination as the male mourners then picked up shovels to fill in the grave themselves.

LOCATIONS

My research took me to numerous island locations, including the home of Harris Tweed Hebrides at their Shawbost Mill; the independent mill at Carloway, only recently rescued from closure; the Grimersta Estate, with its impressive fishing lodge and complex water system. And of course the impressive Scottish baronial castle at Amhuinnsuidhe on the Isle of Harris, where I stayed overnight to absorb its distinctive and rarified atmosphere. On my final day on the Isle of Lewis I visited a legendary location; a stone bothy built into the cliffs of Mangersta, on the south-west of the island, by the parents of aid worker Linda Norgrove who was kidnapped by the Taliban in Afghanistan, and died during a failed rescue attempt by US forces. The bothy rests perilously on a ledge just below the top of towering cliffs of granite and gneiss that are hundreds of feet high, standing resolute against the relentless assault of the Atlantic.

PARIS

My location research also took me to Paris, around the Place de la République, where only fifteen months earlier terrorists had rampaged through boulevards and alleyways.  The aftermath of those attacks were still very much evident in the nightly gathering of armed police and vehicles along one side of the square. I also visited the world famous Paris cemetery, Père Lachaise, where I had the unsettling experience of coming across a full-sized bronze figure on the grave of French journalist, Victor Noir, who was shot dead in 1870 by Prince Pierre Bonaparte, the great nephew of Napoleon. The reason I found it so unsettling was that the face of this figure was the spitting image of myself as a young man.

INTERVIEWS

In a search for authenticity I conducted in depth interviews.  I had long conversations with the young island entrepreneur, Iain Finlay Macleod, whose Breanish Tweed became the inspiration for my fictitious Ranish Tweed. Gaelic actor and broadcaster, Derek Murray, showed me the arcane world of teenage island boys who, by tradition, steal the gates of their neighbours on Halloween.  I also journeyed across the sodden moorland of north-east Lewis to the remote ruins of a house and church built by a pioneering baptist called John Nicholson.  I picked this as a crucial location in the book, where the denouement is played out on its storm-lashed cliffs.  The ruins of Nicholson’s house are also the basis for the book’s iconic cover image.

HARRIS TWEED

In closing it is worth noting Harris Tweed is the only cloth in the world to be defined by Act of Parliament, and is described in the 1993 Act passed by the Houses of Parliament in London, as “handwoven by islanders at their homes in the Outer Hebrides, finished in the Outer Hebrides, and made from pure virgin wool dyed and spun in the Outer Hebrides”. All Harris Tweed must also be examined by an inspector from the Harris Tweed Authority, and stamped with the famous cross and orb once it is established it has met all legal criteria and standards of quality. Through my connections with Harris Tweed Hebrides, I gained access to Première Vision, the twice-yearly fabric fair in Paris. Thousands of stalls are enclosed by lit plastic walls arranged in rows that criss-cross, in the giant exhibition halls of the Parc d’Exposition. This vast fair has cloth-makers from all over the world exhibiting their fabrics for designers and manufacturers ahead of the seasonal fashion shows which will determine what some people will be wearing in the spring or the autumn.

And remember Peter May commences the Promotional Tour shortly, and as he is a most amusing raconteur, so we urge you to attend one of his events, not only to grab a copy of his latest novel, but also to gain some insight into this author and listen to his tales.

The Full Tour details are available by Clicking Here

I enjoyed finding myself at lunch with Peter May and my bibliophile colleagues, who like Peter have many amusing asides with anecdotes and reflections which are life affirming when confronted by Janus. All of us are journalists, writers, commentators – and so with a glass of wine in hand, there was much mirth over a fine lunch.

Though Barry Forshaw made us all laugh like Hyenas when the topic of deadlines came up, something that as writers we all fear. As apart from Peter May’s latest work, Barry Forshaw has his Historical Noir coming shortly as does Bookbrunch’s Nic Clee look at the literary award process.

More information about the work of Peter May CLICK HERE

More information about “The Booker and the Best” by Nicholas Clee CLICK HERE

More Information about “Historical Noir” by Barry Forshaw CLICK HERE

So after thanking Jon Riley Publisher, and Hannah Robinson Publicist [Quercus Publishing], and of course Sophie Ransom for an excellent lunch, where the laughter was as infectious as Peter May’s anecdotes – we all headed back into a chilly London; but were all energised, as only the company and laughter of Bibliophiles / Raconteurs can provide when there are bottles of wine.

Clutching my copy of Peter May’s “I’ll Keep You Safe” – suddenly The Two Faces of Janus / January didn’t feel as depressing as it did when the alarm clock sounded on the 2nd of January.

You can get a copy at a heavy discount from this link from the Book Depository, with free delivery worldwide.

Photos © 2018 A Karim [and Nicholas Clee]

The use of dark humour to cope with the tragedy of existence

I was fortunate to chat with Peter Capaldi last night at the 2017 CWA Dagger Awards in London; but not about Dr Who, but about his portrayal of the Spin Doctor from Hell - Mr Malcolm Tucker, a character created by writer Armando Iannucci.

Malcolm Tucker follows the British Tradition of making comedy from the grotesque, the very odd and pompous, like Captain Mainwaring [Dad's Army], David Brent [The Office], Alan Partridge, Leonard Rossiter's Rigsby, Frank Thornton's Captain Peacock, John Cleese's Basil Fawlty - to name some of the most outrageous exaggerations of the Eccentric British Bloke.

Though for me, Malcolm Tucker as played by Peter Capaldi is seated at the apex of the absurd - sheer genius.

I thanked Peter last night for making me laugh so loudly, so deeply, when i watched the BBC "THE THICK OF IT", and the feature length film version IN THE LOOP, which satirized the British / American special relationship, and the commencement of the Iraq War.

Sometimes comedy is how we cope with tragedy, and someone has put IN THE LOOP onto Youtube, in HD - and the link is below [so if you want a deep belly laugh, as well as understand how weird our world is, see link below]

IN THE LOOP is probably one of the greatest political satires, so brilliantly written by Armando Iannucci, but how Peter Capaldi crafted Malcolm Tucker......sheer absurd genius.

ENJOY - BUT A WARNING / IT CONTAINS BRITISH HUMOUR AT ITS MOST EXTREME, ESPECIALLY LANGUAGE PROFANITY AND ABSURDITY

Pater Capaldi was amused when I told him, that my own vernacular and use of colorful Anglo-Saxon expletives was heavily influenced by his portrayal of Malcolm Tucker.

And as Brexit [UK leaving the EU] is in the opinion of many people [me included], the supreme folly, a self-inflicted wound, economic & bureaucratic hell - an example of how some people can be manipulated with miss-information, lies and pandering to base emotion, not logic - then in this very British tragedy I turn to Armando Iannucci and to Malcolm Tucker as he debates Brexit with an equally absurd creation of Iannucci - Mr Alan Partridge.

Remembering The Duomo, Florence

Some people comment and query upon how come I have such a good memory. The older I get the more important an active memory becomes, for memory is a critical aspect of thinking, cognition, and therefore how we see the world. It also helps manage (for me) the Anxiety of Existence; the randomness of 'Being' and combatting negative, depressive and dangerous thinking.

The process of cultivating a sharp and extensive memory is not easy, it requires effort and an organisation of the thought processes. This effort, this cultivation, & activation of 'Memory' not only requires the managed and lucid recall of 'good & insightful' past events, but also the management of bad ones too. It also requires constant maintenance, as well as an awareness of how the memories we keep, morph and distort as we reflect, re-interpret as well as rationalise what we construct as reality, our existence, and who we share it with.

Ultimately memory also helps explain 'who we are' - by the context of our existence from our memories.

I smiled many years ago when I stumbled upon a book by Jonathan Spence, about Matteo Ricci. At the risk of emitting a loud clanging name-drop; I came across this work from my correspondence with Thomas Harris many years ago, when I asked him about Dr Hannibal Lecter's ability in drawing (with charcoal) The Duomo [The Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore], from Florence (from Memory as he didn't have a window in his cell) while incarcerated in Baltimore. Harris told me that Dr Lecter's Memory sprang from this book on Ricci, which he would later name check in the footnotes of 1999's much misunderstood (and from some quarters much maligned) HANNIBAL.

This Sunday morning the house is silent. My wife Muriel is at the Gym. Our eldest daughter Sophia has gone into work of her own volition, as like all the Karims' - we work hard. Our Son Alexander is in Malaysia to view the upcoming Grand Prix with friends and our youngest daughter Miriam spends her first day at University, in Hall.

I am alone in bed, with my thoughts.

Last night we hit traffic (Sophia, Muriel and I) returning back from moving our youngest daughter to University. There were road closures, diversions, it was bad biff. We argued in the car as we were tired and after a long and emotional day, we were stressed leaving the youngest Karim to fend for herself in this weird reality we share.

At one point while bypassing the Sat-Nav (which had gone rogue) Sophia said 'Dad you are weird, you think weirdly' it made me silent as that observation made me ponder.

Yesterday our youngest daughter Miriam presented me with a gift from her recent travels in San Francisco - as we ate a meal, part of the ritual families do when they part, she passed me over a gift, a small square piece of plastic, with a microchip embedded beneath the surface.

The gift was a device called ‘Tile’ that links your keys, IPhone to a computer. It attaches to your key-ring and has a button that makes your phone ring if you've misplaced it, so you can find it. Miriam said 'so it will help you, if your memory fails'

I smiled at the word memory.

Sure, I touch my bulky key ring (which also acts as a defence tool) many times in the day, feeling its comfort in my trouser leg (during the day) and now (thanks to Miriam's gift) it can help me locate my IPhone, if I misplace it.

The 'Tile device' is small and attached to my key chain, so i feel the white plastic gift from my Daughter all the time, and I mean all the time. So several times of the day, I will think lucidly about our youngest Daughter Miriam Karim, because of this 'Tile', now part of my defensive key ring - something I see and feel throughout my 'conscious' day, as it comforts and is a tangible part of my realty; and makes me think about Miriam when I see or feel it.

Though Miriam thought that she gave me a practical gift (from her vacation in San Francisco) to ensure I always remembered my Iphone, but in reality it will be my way of thinking about her every day, and several times, having the comfort that there is in what we remember; in our Memory.

I also have items on my person, that remind me of my Wife, my Eldest Daughter, my Son as well as my Mother, Father and two Brothers.

This memory technique, the solidification of memory (the recall of days now passed) by physical touch / association to provoke thought - (among other techniques) was noted in the book that Jonathan Spence wrote, based on the life of Matteo Ricci; the same book that Thomas Harris told me about; the same book that helped him flesh out the character of Dr Hannibal Lecter - his remarkable memory.

So as I pondered upon the comment my eldest daughter Sophia said last night as we battled traffic adversity 'Dad, you're 'Weird' and which my Wife added 'Yes, you do think in a weird way' - I now smile, as I'm glad I think the way I do, for with our thoughts, we make the world as Buddha once conjectured and Rene Descartes confirmed, for 'I think, therefore I am'

I like weird; enjoy your Sunday, and perhaps some of us may purchase a charcoal stick and draw an image, something that resonates, something from what we term a memory, of a day now passed, perhaps of that Duomo, that Dr Fell would later view after fleeing Baltimore - and perhaps we'll fold it and place in our wallets, to remind us of the beauty contained in this world; to protect our thoughts and distract them roaming over all that scares us in this random and weird place.

"Typhoid and Swans, Officer Starling, they come from the same place"

Dr Hannibal Lecter, Baltimore, Maryland

More information about THE MEMORY PALACE OF MATTEO RICCI by Jonathan D Spence available Here

Shock and Awe: The Horror of our Situation

It has been reported in both psychological as well as medical research that a feeling of awe; a sensation of wonder helps our immune systems. It also promotes a sense of well-being [physical as well as mental]; it also increases our empathy toward others – as it makes us think about our place in this reality, and question our existence and that of others.

“That sense of wonder we feel in the presence of something vast that transcends our understanding of the world.” They point out that people commonly experience awe in nature, but also feel a sense of awe in response to religion, art, music, etc.”

Read More Here

Though, as life is a cognitive sine-wave for we have to manage the ups and downs in our lives – the highs and lows of our experience of reality – there is an opposite to our sense [or feeling] of Awe – namely the feeling of dissatisfaction. This has to be managed too, as it also has an effect upon our immune systems, as well as empathy toward others, but negatively.  

Having a once-in-a-lifetime peak experience can lead to an unexpected blasé feeling of dissatisfaction. Peggy Lee sums up the malaise you can feel in the aftermath of a peak experience in her song, "Is that All There Is?" The song was inspired by the existential story Disillusionment by Thomas Mann. 

Read More Here

Managing the sine-wave of our feelings can at times be tricky, for after an intense period, or after a feeling of Awe, it can be hard to manage cognitively – for often we feel a vacuum within or a feeling of disillusionment in consequence.   

Recently I have been awed [in fact stunned would be a better word] by three films though marketed as Horror; the real horror within these movies comes from what I term, the Horror of our situation in this reality; and the fear of what we don’t understand. These three films are examinations, reflections of being human in a scary reality, where the horror comes from our situation, and is often cloaked in the shadows and within our imaginations. They also provoke deep, deep thought and contemplation.

The test of how deeply a piece of film has affected me is usually how long I remain in the cinema, or when the DVD finishes how long I sit immobile and lost in my thoughts - as the credits roll.

The following three films held me, lost in deep-thought as the credits rolled as I contemplated the significance of what I just experienced – bathing in the sense of awe with my thoughts swirling. 

The effect of these films [like last year’s Midnight Special by Jeff Nichols] remain within me; that feeling of awe with no sensation of disillusionment – for they are food for the mind.

GET OUT

Get Out is a 2017 American horror film written, co-produced and directed by Jordan Peele, in his directorial debut. The film stars Daniel Kaluuya, Allison Williams, Bradley Whitford, Caleb Landry Jones, Stephen Root, LaKeith Stanfield and Catherine Keener, and follows a young interracial couple who visit the mysterious estate of the woman's parents.

IT COMES AT NIGHT

It Comes at Night is a 2017 American psychological horror film written and directed by Trey Edward Shults. It stars Joel Edgerton, Christopher Abbott, Carmen Ejogo, Kelvin Harrison Jr. and Riley Keough. This claustrophobic tales centers on a highly contagious disease that has ravaged the outside world. Paul, his wife Sarah, and their teenage son Travis have secluded themselves in a country home. One night they are awoken by the sound of someone [or something] trying to break into their fortified home in the dark forest.

PERSONAL SHOPPER

Personal Shopper is a 2016 French psychological thriller film written and directed by Olivier Assayas. It stars Kristen Stewart, Lars Eidinger, Sigrid Bouaziz, Anders Danielsen Lie, Ty Olwin, Hammou Graia, Nora von Waldstatten, Benjamin Biolay, Audrey Bonnet and Pascal Rambert. It tells the story of Maureen [Kristen Stewart] a personal shopper in Paris for Kyra (Nora von Waldstätten), a celebrity. She travels to European capitals to shop for her, buying clothes, accessories and jewels. Her twin brother Lewis recently died from a heart attack; they shared the same genetic heart problem. They were both interested in spiritualism and believed they had connections to the spirit world.

With an honourable mention to a film from last year that I still think about from time to time.

MIDNIGHT SPECIAL

Midnight Special is a 2016 American science fiction film written and directed by Jeff Nichols, and produced by Sarah Green and Brian Kavanaugh-Jones. The film stars Michael Shannon, Joel Edgerton, Kirsten Dunst, Adam Driver, Jaeden Lieberher and Sam Shepard. The story revolves around Roy Tomlin and his biological son, Alton Meyer, escaping from both the government and a cult, after discovering that Alton has special powers.

These films are like lucid dreams, they remain within my mind and I think of them and their significance from time to time – for they gave me a sense of awe, one that that made me think deeply as well as reflect upon something Stephen King once postulated in his book “On Writing” -

“Life isn't a support system for art. It's the other way around.”

Doppelgänger : Peter Rozovsky & Ali Karim discuss Donald Westlake & Richard Stark

Doppelgänger from the German [literally "double-goer"] is a look-alike or double of a living person, sometimes portrayed as a paranormal phenomenon, and is usually seen as a harbinger of bad luck.

Ever since I witnessed some mysterious and frightening incidents as a child; something I still cannot explain, something that I still think of from time to time – the role of the Doppelgänger has always fascinated me, as well as acting as a warning to me, about personality, and the dangers of existence.

Like many writers, I use pen names and enjoy traversing the edges of personality, be it my own or that of others. The reasoning is that most people are not who they present themselves as; for we have facets of character that remain hidden - often to survive.

As the 1980s were closing Stephen King's pen name Richard Bachman was exposed as he battled the last stages of his alcohol and pharmaceutical misuse.

The novel THE DARK HALF is from that time though rarely mentioned; with its surreal story of Author Thad Beaumont a writer of literary fiction battling his Pen Name George Stark's creation the disfigured and dangerously malevolent Alexis Machine. George Stark wrote two ultra-violent and renowned pulp thrillers MACHINE'S WAY and STEEL MACHINE that were far more popular commercially than Thad Beaumont’s literary output.

This underrated King novel THE DARK HALF is a thinly disguised homage to Donald Westlake and it would be filmed later by George A Romero starring Timothy Hutton.

I recall King’s THE DARK HALF because like Donald Westlake, some of us have a little Richard Stark in us, to help traverse the dangers in this world; but like Nietzsche's abyss, when the inner Parker is revealed to others, the abyss that is Parker looks back into you. The dark side of human nature is an evolutionary necessity; but also a danger - one we keep locked away.

“The office women looked at him and shivered. They knew he was a bastard; his big hands were born to slap with, they knew his face would never break into a smile when he looked at a woman. They knew what he was, they thanked God for their husbands, and still they shivered. Because they knew how he would fall on a woman in the night. Like a tree".” ― Richard Stark, The Hunter

Here's a few words I wrote for Jeff Pierce's THE RAP SHEET when Quercus Publishing brought back Parker to the UK in 2007. Jeff featured a staggering outpouring in 2009 when Donald Westlake passed away, and here's some thoughts from the Crime / Thriller Community from The Rap Sheet Part One and Part Two

I wrote at the time in 2009 when hearing of the passing of Donald Westlake -

"I first discovered Donald Westlake thanks to the movie version of The Hot Rock with Robert Redford, which led me to explore more of the Dortmunder books, as well as muttering “Afghanistan, Bananistan” to strangers from time to time. But my true love was the Richard Stark series featuring Parker. I loved the spartan style of Stark, and was overjoyed when I read Stephen King’s tribute to Stark in his brilliant novel about split personalities, The Dark Half. (“Anyway, for reasons you’d have to ask Westlake about, he eventually stopped writing novels about Parker, but I never forgot something Westlake said after the pen name was blown. He said he wrote books on sunny days and Stark took over on the rainy ones ...”) It was an apt tribute to a great man.

I only met Westlake once when we came to the CrimeScene convention in London in 2005. I was humbled in his presence, despite his modesty and gentle nature. I find it surreal that when I heard of the awful news [of Westlake’s death], the first words that came into my head were “Afghanistan, Bananistan,” which echoed as a lament for our loss. I miss his words already, as the world just darkened a tad, knowing that he is no longer with us.

Watch Detectives Beyond Borders Peter Rozovsky and I discuss Donald Westlake and Richard Stark in an amusing and unscripted post-Crimefest 2017 Sunday afternoon.

In memory of the late Donald Westlake and Darwyn Cooke

Doppelgänger Tales

Some of my friends and colleagues know of my interest in the “Doppelgänger” [a ghostly duplicate of a living person, derived from the German term Doppelgänger, literally: double-goer].

My interest is both of times that I have been mistaken for someone else; as well as encountering Doppelgängers of other people that I know.

My current interest in the Doppelgänger stems from something I am writing, something that takes over much of my current thinking.

I have a few Doppelgänger tales, some that are seriously disconcerting [as anyone who has shared a late evening in a bar with me will attest to]. I will share one of my Doppelgänger tales here; but this one is an amusing anecdote from my recollections of days now passed.

It was early/mid 1980s, England. I’d just returned back from the American Midwest where I had been studying for a Doctorate in Chemistry. On my return, my Father had been livid with me [as I had given up a good job at ICI, Runcorn to further my studies in America]. He told me in strong terms that I had to get a job after ‘fucking around academia’ and messing up a career in Imperial Chemicals Industries [ICI].

The first job I applied for I got an interview straightway and headed to London, as they needed me to start immediately. I worked as a young Industrial Chemist, for a Chemicals Storage and Logistics company on the Thames [London and Coastal Oil Wharves Ltd], which I helped get into chemical processing with Automotive Antifreeze manufacture as well as Chemical blending.

The company had taken a stand at The European Chemical Trade Fair, hosted at Heathrow’s Penta Hotel. The Managing Director asked me to ‘man the stand’ over the three-day trade fair [as I was cheap, and he wanted to show off his young Chemist to his customers as well as attract new customers].

I enjoyed the few days having a superb room in the Penta; and as I was single it meant I got all my meals and drinks on account. Various managers from the company drifted in and out of the Chemical Trade Fair, helping me man our company stand.

On the final night Martin Wells, our MD had organised a celebratory dinner in the Penta, with three of our managers and a dozen or so of his top customers. The affair was a long and enjoyable evening. I drank rather a lot of wine, followed by generous quantities of Gin. I needed very little encouragement as our long table was in celebratory mode after the Chemical trade fair. So after a few hours in the bar, it was time to say goodnight and farewell to my colleagues and our guests. I stumbled up to my room which was a feat in itself, due to the amount of Gin I consumed.

On entering my room, I was way too drunk to function correctly, so I just fell asleep on the bed in my suit, only loosening my tie. I noted that the red LED on the bedside clock-radio said it was past three AM. The next thing I recall was that I was dreaming about a ringing phone; or so I thought. The dream woke me up, and I realised that I was not dreaming at all, but the phone by my bedside was ringing, and ringing and ringing. I grabbed the receiver and as I pushed it to my ear, the clock-radio informed me it was coming to five thirty in the morning.

“It’s reception. Mr Karim, your taxi is here” said the voice on the line.

“I’ll be right down” I replied in my drunken fugue. Looking back, I don’t know why I hadn’t queried the call about an early morning cab. I knew Martin Wells and the other managers were staying in the Penta too; and we were leaving in the morning, but not at this fucking early hour.

Somehow I managed to navigate myself down to reception, where a perplexed Night Porter and Cab Driver [who was leaning on the reception counter] stared back at me; this dishevelled young Asian bloke staggering in a crumpled suit obviously as drunk as a skunk.

The Night Porter quickly swivelled his chair back to his computer and looked back at me and said “You are Abdul Karim of Egyptian Airlines?”

“No, I’m Ali Karim of London and Coastal Oil Wharves” I replied hiccuping and then running to the nearby toilet, as I felt my stomach heave in my drunken state as reality started to spin around me.

As I ran, I remember hearing the Cab Driver laughing “thank fuck for that, as I thought that cunt is flying the 0700 hrs to Cairo.”

Though strictly not a true Doppelgänger Tale; I have two more about a person, persons or thing that may be a true Doppelgänger of mine; but that’s for when I am in a bar late at night and someone wants me to follow Peter Straub’s gathering of old men, when one asks “tell us all the scariest thing that has ever happened to you.”

Until then, back to my writing, and the issue of coming face to face with your Doppelgänger.

Anyone know the way to Shell Beach?

I was recently reading that there are plans to remake the Wachowski brother’s 1999 movie THE MATRIX, and then I learned that Martin Scorsese’s film adaptation of Dennis Lehane’s novel Shutter Island is being adapted into a TV series. The recent HBO reboot / reworking of the Michael Crichton 1973 directorial debut Westworld was a remarkable piece of work, and proved hugely popular commercially despite its immense cost. What these works share in common is their interpretation of what we perceive as our reality; something that most of us ponder upon from time to time, as well as the purpose and reason for our ‘being’ here on the third rock from our power source, our Sun.

My favourite sub-genre of film and books are those that questions what we perceive as reality, of which I have read many work as well as viewed many mind-bending films. Though The Matrix and its two sequels are probably the most commented upon; I still have very warm feelings toward three films that were released around the same time [before the Millennium], and mined similar themes - David Cronenberg’s 1999 eXistenz Josef Rusnak 1999’s The Thirteen Floor and of course my favourite Alex Proyas’ 1998 Dark City.

Though there are many, many others; but particular mention should be made of Stanislaw Lem’s novel Solaris which was first filmed by Andrei Tarkovsky in 1972 and remade / reworked in 2002 by James Cameron and Steven Soderbergh.

Though the earliest recorded thoughts that question what we perceive as reality can be traced to Plato’s Republic in his “Allegory of the Cave”

In the allegory, Plato likens people untutored in the Theory of Forms to prisoners chained in a cave, unable to turn their heads. All they can see is the wall of the cave. Behind them burns a fire.  Between the fire and the prisoners there is a parapet, along which puppeteers can walk. The puppeteers, who are behind the prisoners, hold up puppets that cast shadows on the wall of the cave. The prisoners are unable to see these puppets, the real objects that pass behind them. What the prisoners see and hear are shadows and echoes cast by objects that they do not see. 

Read More Here and view a short Ted-Ed video on the nature of reality as seen via Plato’s Cave

Anyone with a basic understanding of Chemistry, Physics and Mathematics will tell you that the world we perceive with our sensory apparatus is a mere fraction of what is actually around us. Advancement in technology is making us realise that there are many other aspects / forms within the reality that surrounds us; and which we cannot detect from our sensory apparatus - in the narrow bands of light, sound, taste, touch and smell that we use to navigate reality. In fact we also know that we are now creating our own realities virtually. In David Cronenberg’s 1999 film eXistenz, we see that the rabbit holes of interconnected realities is deep, for in each of our artificially created realities, the occupants create or engineer their own, and to quote Kurt Vonnegut ‘and so it goes’; layer upon layer of artificially created virtual realities.

As the relentless march of technology and science marches on headlong, there are many reports coming that the reality we are experiencing is far from what we see around ourselves, for perhaps Plato’s Allegory of the Cave is correct. Reports that our reality is indeed a construct or a form of artifice is coming from credible sources, including these. There were interesting ripples in the scientific community when Dr. James Gates Jr explained that in his experiments in particle physics and string theory, he found a form of computer code; strings of One and Zeros called error correcting codes, embedded within, or resulting from, the equations of supersymmetry that describe fundamental particles.

When one works through Lord Martin Rees work, and that of Professor Nick Bostrom we see that the simulation argument has indeed merit, and that the chances are close to 100% that we are indeed trapped in a ‘construct’ akin to Plato’s Cave; in a simulation or reality that is a form of artifice. As troubling as this sounds; the reality of our situation has a paradoxical twist, for it matters little if we are in the Cave with much hidden from our senses, or to quote Peggy Lee’s question ‘Is that all there is?’ from the song penned by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller [which in turm was derived from the 1896 story Disillusionment [Enttäuschung] by Thomas Mann – used to great effect in John August’s 2007 film that also questioned the nature of our reality The Nines.

The march of technology may well further prove or disprove the veracity of our reality, as primitive man came from Caves, and we may soon discover that we are still cave dwellers, pursuing our lives with artificial meaning in the allegorical Cave that Plato proposed.

The scary downside is that the sheer scale of the weapons we are capable of manufacturing [with the march of technology] in these times, can appeal dangerously to the dark-side of human nature. We must also remember that the dark-side of our natures helped us evolve in the competitive games we term evolution, for without our dark-side we would never have survived predation – but today, in so-called civilised society, that dark-side has dangers when the scale of our weapons are now unspeakable.

So “reality is, what it is” and we have to navigate it as well as we can, but from time to time we see things that we cannot explain, things we put down to the randomness of our reality; coincidences as well as the vagaries of our skills in pattern recognition [another tool that is necessary for our evolution as a species]. 

Last year, when my editor and close friend Mike Stotter and I went to New Orleans for Bouchercon 2016, The World Crime and Mystery Convention, we had a wonderful time, shared with our friends from the genre we support. Though New Orleans has its own mysteries in its own right, and sure we drank a lot and partied however some things remain with me, things that made me think, made me ponder like seeing pixilation of reality, of glitches. I know many of us are cynical however, like that sensation of Déjà vu, it can also be unsettling.

One memory that makes me smile is related to a favourite film of mine. I often make reference to Alex Proyas’ 1998 Dark City as it a firm favourite. During Bouchercon 2016, Mike and I spent a wonderful evening with our friends Chris Whiteside and Martina Cole. Martina is one Great Britain’s most popular crime-writers and has been a very dear friend of Mike and I for many years. She is celebrating her 25^th year in publishing and during Bouchercon, she generously treated Chris, Mike and I to a wonderful dinner and drinks at the Hotel Monteleone in New Orlean’s French Quarter. I know we consumed a great deal of Gin, but after a fabulous dinner I felt a little strange which I put down to the drinking but the feeling was more akin to Déjà vu, and I kept thinking of the film Dark City and the significance of this reality. I noticed that the bar-singer start a song that made me smile. It was the renowned Mexican song “Sway” and I quickly grabbed my Iphone to record it for the coincidental line with my thinking was perplexing.

The song ‘Sway’ features in Dark City, with Jennifer Connelly, though the vocal recording was actually with Anita Kelsey. I know it was coincidence that I was thinking about the Alex Proyas film while seated in the hotel bar in New Orleans, and maybe the ambience reminded me of that scene with William Hurt and Jennifer Connelly. Though coupled to a few other events / coincidences, the memory still makes me smile; as does the understanding that if we are indeed inside Plato’s Cave then there are some rules to make the experience worthwhile.

For those who have seen Dark City, may follow the significance of why Rufus Sewell’s character is searching for Shell Beach. It would not be until I returned to England that I discovered that Shell Beach is actually located not far from New Orleans, in Louisiana.

This line of thinking will of course narrow itself to whether we take the Blue or Red Pill, because as Grace Slick once said with Jefferson Airplane, “one Pill makes you larger and one Pill makes you small”.

Perhaps next time I will find myself in New Orleans, I will indeed seek out Shell Beach, because I heard it's the end of the line.