Spooky Isles: Mary Shelley and the Birth of Frankenstein, Part 5

Originally published on Spooky Isles, June 29th 2012, as the final instalment of a five-part series; available here.

By the time of her death, Mary Shelley was the respected author of seven novels, at least twenty-three short stories, and even some children’s literature. She was also an accomplished biographer, poet and editor of the works of her husband Percy, whose status as one of the major poets of the Romantic period was largely assured by her efforts. Despite the significance of works such as The Last Man (1826), however, her full importance as a writer is only just beginning to be understood: it’s interesting that, when her later work was more critically acclaimed at the time, it has mostly been forgotten, while Frankenstein’s reputation continues to grow.

It’s one of the most accomplished Gothic novels of the period, borrowing heavily from the conventions pioneered by her father among others, but at the same time its voice is unique. Mary’s own chequered personal life provides themes and preoccupations which are not articulated as strongly by anybody else – her insight into the traumas of childbirth and parenthood, as well as her own struggle to live up to the reputations of her famous parents, shine through in Victor Frankenstein’s struggles to create a human being and then to make a man. The suggestion that the two are not the same is one of the keynotes of the novel.

Science fiction as a genre in English largely owes its existence to Frankenstein, which is probably the earliest and one of the most influential examples. Even modern writers acknowledge its influence; elements of Shelley’s work have been in detected in the shocking twist of Iain Banks’ The Wasp Factory and Stephen King’s It. Perhaps most interesting is that fact that science itself has been influenced by Mary’s thinking: the technology she envisioned became an inspiration for real innovations.

There are as many reasons for the novel’s perpetual success as there are readers, but the truth is that everyone who comes to Mary’s masterpiece now brings with them certain expectations. The image of Frankenstein’s Monster is burned into our cultural memory thanks to nearly two hundred years of adaptation for stage and screen and even modern music: think of Metallica’s ‘Some Kind of Monster’ or Alice Cooper’s ‘Feed My Frankenstein’. The name has entered everyday use, and we all have our own idea of what it means.

In fact, it’s often surprising to encounter the novel for the first time and notice how it differs from the image we’ve inherited. The ‘monster’ isn’t green. There are no bolts through his neck. There are no hysterical screams of “It’s alive!” and, most importantly, Frankenstein is the name of the scientist and not his creation. Still, that the creature and his maker are identified with each other would have pleased Mary: it supports her argument that corrupt political systems make victims of the empowered and disempowered alike.

It’s the politics that are often overlooked by Shelley readers, mostly thanks to the Victorian habit of domesticating women’s writing and relegating Mary’s work to the status of ‘romance’. In many ways, though, the political element is what holds the rest together: questions of responsibility, control and the abuse of power remain at Frankenstein’s core. Over the intervening years, it has continued to strike a chord in the wake of scientific as well as political progress – whether it’s the governing class or the scientist in the laboratory, in the end, Frankenstein explores the consequences of men playing God with the lives of others, and that theme never dies.

The Bubble Album Reviews: Florence and the Machine, 'Ceremonials'

Originally published in The Bubble Music as part of Album Reviews #9, Nov. 7th 2011, available here.

There’s no denying that Lungs was big. Of course, Florence’s 2009 debut album achieved widespread critical and commercial success, but it also sounded huge – harps, relentless rhythm sections and choral harmonies locked in an interplay which was powerful, affective and rewarded multiple repeat spins. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to say, then, that the benchmark for that ‘difficult second album’ was pretty high, and fans have been awaiting a follow-up with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. We needn’t have worried. It may not be perfect, but this is a bold, accomplished and beautifully-layered album which takes the best things about Lungs and runs with them – and if its predecessor was big, Ceremonials is simply vast.

From the moment that ‘Only If for a Night’ sneaks in with its distant piano and builds into a moody choral refrain, it’s obvious that this is a much darker album, and the lyrics abound with demons, spirits and ghosts. A new adaptation of Macbeth could easily soundtrack its witches concocting toil and trouble on a misty heath with ‘Seven Devils’, but for every haunting moment there is one of anthemic joy, like lead single ‘Shake It Out’, or an undeniably catchy pop song like ‘Spectrum’. By far the stand-out track, though, is ‘What the Water Gave Me’: over five minutes long, named after a Frida Kahlo painting and inspired by Virginia Woolf’s suicide. It’s every bit as atmospheric and epic as it sounds (and a little insane), and in the last two minutes when all restraint is finally thrown off it moves from whispered vocals to an astounding tour de force which may actually make you want to dance.

It isn’t without its flaws: it would probably benefit from one less song to prevent the sense of a slight dip towards the end, but that’s a relatively minor issue in what just might be the album of the year so far. It’s worth saying, though, that the instrument which stands out most on Ceremonials is one of the most distinctive voices in modern music, moving across octaves and dynamics with an ease which beggars belief. For fans, this will be known as the album where Florence discovered her quiet voice, as well as one that’s even louder.

The Bubble Columns: Blue-rovision?

Originally published in The Bubble Columns, available here.

I should start with a confession. I’m sure you have mental images of me as the highly refined, serious intellectual who slaves to entertain the masses with her astute and serious observations. Alas, these are illusions of which I must rob you. Ladies and gentlemen, I love the Eurovision Song Contest.

It might be the cheesiest, tackiest, and generally most pathetic arena in which our great nation has ever allowed, and in fact paid for, its own humiliation. It may be the site of some of the most disturbing and confusing scenes you’ll ever witness. It is certainly the most ludicrous way the people of Europe have devised to tell Britain that it has no friends (except for Ireland, and sometimes Cyprus or Portugal if we’re lucky) and reinforce trade links between neighbouring countries. But for all that, it’s obscenely entertaining, and those who watch every year admit it with a mixture of pride and shame.

As a nation, though, we approach the Eurovision with the most cynical of attitudes, chiefly because we always know that we will lose. Britain being isolated from Europe in both geographic and figurative terms, we have nobody to give us those all-important points out of a sense of regional camaraderie (which is why so many obscure Baltic and Balkan countries have done well in recent years).  Less important, but more easily changed, is the fact that we keep entering diabolical songs. Last year’s entry was written by Pete Waterman – a man who hasn’t been cool since the late 1980s when he worked with Kylie Minogue – though before that, Andrew Lloyd Webber had written a ballad that came fifth. The woman who sang said ballad is now a Sugababe. Everyone lost.

Luckily, however, it seems our Eurovision despair may well be coming to an end. We have an entry for this year. The news that made my week: the United Kingdom’s Eurovision 2011 entry is entitled ‘I Can’, and it’s by a little boy band called Blue. Yes, Blue. Just in case you haven’t had your fill of reformed boy bands in the past few years, the early 2000s group consisting of Duncan James, Lee Ryan, Antony Costa and Simon Webbe, who reunited in 2009, intend to stage a comeback with the performance of the song, penned by Duncan and Lee (the blonde ones), in Dusseldorf in May.
 
BBC One will be airing an hour-long documentary in April following the band recording and promoting the single, as well as getting advice from fellow musicians (who I desperately hope will include these former Eurovision winners), as part of the run-up to the contest. Head of entertainment and events Katie Taylor said of the announcement “We’re enormously pleased to have found an act that not only meets but exceeds all the criteria for a great entry… Blue are the perfect choice”. Duncan claims that this will be “a great way to mark the occasion” of their tenth year together, while Simon has said that he has “always wanted to represent my country, so this is a truly exciting experience for Blue”.


They do have a better resume than most entrants – 13 million album sales, three number one singles, and insanely catchy tunes like All Rise, Fly By, and One Love, all of which could stand us in very good stead come May 14^th. That said, they are also responsible for some pretty terrible covers; they even managed to enlist both Elton John and Stevie Wonder to help them mutilate Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word and Signed, Sealed, Delivered respectively. Either way, though, Britain at least is in the grip of a mania for returning old-school boy bands; if Europe shares this nostalgic sentiment then we could be on to a – well, not a winner, but maybe a little less of a loser.

Still, it does beg the question of how successful this comeback will be. Entry into the Eurovision is widely acknowledged as career suicide- the vast majority of UK entrants are neither seen nor heard from again. Former Blue manager Daniel Glatman has described the decision as “reckless insanity”, insisting that “they will have to win. Anything less and their reputation would be in tatters”. I disagree- Blue are a cheesy boy band whose fan base now regard them with nostalgia rather than genuine adulation, and since nobody ever expects a UK entrant to win, they have little to lose if they don’t win. If anything, the damage will come from the stigma of being a Eurovision contestant, which basically means that they will never be taken seriously again. Still, they’re Blue. Who would take them seriously anyway?

Maybe it will just add to the cheesy kitsch we associate with reformed boy bands like them. Take That may have managed to break out of that category, but they did so by producing some genuinely brilliant new music- and coming from someone who would rather listen to Led Zeppelin or Nirvana, that’s saying something. Maybe Blue can do the same. Either way, we’ll find out along with the rest of Europe on May 14^th.

The Bubble Columns- President Cowboy

Originally published online in The Bubble Columns, available here.

You may not have heard of Robert Burck. You may not care about his politics. But if you’ve been to New York, you may know him as the Naked Cowboy. The busker has been entertaining the masses with the strategic aid of Y-fronts, Stetson and guitar long enough to be part of the city’s furniture- but it would appear he has aspirations to more than just his local fame. He’s standing for office.

Yes, you read that correctly. Burck has cut his hair and not only dressed but suited up to announce his intention to run for President. He plans to run as a candidate for staunchly conservative, anti-establishment activists the Tea Party. He also insists there will be nothing “cowboy” about his policies. And no, I did not make that up.

Despite such questions as “Are you wearing a codpiece?” and numerous enquiries as to the location of his usual Y-fronts, Burck insisted that there was “no time for games” when announcing his plans at a news conference in New York. Apparently, "America is rapidly transforming into a government-run enterprise… American politicians are selling out America and its most cherished institution, that being capitalism." His policies, he also declared, will include the closure of America’s borders, the abolition of trade unions for government workers and compulsory drug tests for welfare claimants. Human rights, it would appear, he’ll worry about later.

It makes sense that economic views like his would align with the Tea Party- a loose group of right-wing activists formed amid a swell of protest at government bail-outs of failing companies such as banks and insurers, objecting to what they perceive as the erosion of capitalist society (which is, of course, perfect, and never did anyone any harm). Most Republicans, they feel, have become too moderate. Though the Tea Party is steadfastly focussed on economic policy, many members are deeply socially conservative too, and Burck’s ideology is likely to appeal in this regard as well.

What’s more, there’s a strong desire within the group to bring fresh blood into politics and throw out many of the old, established faces. For all his attempts to get serious, someone known as being so different to the mostly sombre, complacent and indeed clothed past inhabitants of the White House appeals to the same vein of rebellion that made Brits get Killing In The Name to Christmas number 1 (what was that about doing what they told you, again?)

Living in the country which produced the Monster Raving Loony Party, bizarre politics is a part of life. I’m endlessly entertained by Boris Johnson. America’s political celebrity culture is far more pronounced than Britain’s, but I didn’t even lose the will to live when Paris Hilton attempted to stand for President (though if I were American, that may not have been the case). Burck’s career change is a classic case of what I termed in last week’s column the “Schwarzenegger effect”: a (sort of) celebrity using his (sort of) fame to propel him to (unlikely) political success. He’s sort of like a cross between the bloke with the accordion on Framwellgate Bridge and Kilroy, but with a better tan.

The Naked Cowboy has clearly harboured political aspirations for a while- he announced plans to run for Mayor of New York before dropping out of the race in 2009. Maybe he thought about the incumbent Michael Bloomberg and decided that that town wasn’t big enough for the both of them. In any case, it will be interesting to see how he does in his campaign- though Obama, despite his current problems, is still looking good for a second term, this is the nation that voted George Dubya Bush into office (well, debatably- right, Florida?), and the Killing in the Name effect can be powerful. He might not stroll into Washington, but he may do better than we expect.

The Bubble Columns: The Cult of Putin

Orignially published on my column in The Bubble, available here.


My favourite piece of news this week may not have been the most publicised, but it was definitely among the strangest. A group of journalism students at Moscow State University, in praise of Prime Minister Vladimir Putin on his 58^th birthday, have produced an erotic calendar featuring female students. Positioned next to such captions as “You put out forest fires, but I’m still burning” (sexy, I know), the girls are pouting and wearing lingerie in the “Vladimir Vladimirovich, we love you” calendar which will apparently be sold in Moscow supermarkets.

I admit from the outset that I’m no expert on Russian politics, but I know that it can seem weird at the best of times. Putin has published his own calendars featuring his shirtless self on horseback, at the controls of a helicopter, and in other generally manly poses, and it’s well known that he is still unbelievably popular. After his two terms as President, under Russian law he could not stand for a third - so he ran for Prime Minister, won by a good margin, and has proceeded to act as the power behind the presidency ever since. Since he’s eligible to run for President again in 2012, Miss February’s (supposedly) suggestive slogan “How about a third time?” shows that he’ll definitely get at least one vote.

Can you imagine a bunch of Labour activists doing this for Gordon Brown? “How about another term, but this time we vote for you?”  Russia appears to have allowed Putin to put himself on a pedestal right at the pinnacle of celebrity culture. The question is, whether it’s his political status that keeps him famous, or his fame that keeps him so popular in politics (affectionately known as the Schwarzenegger effect).  The former is possible - he has a reputation for strength and resilience and plays on nationalist tendencies effectively, holding his own against Europe and the USA. If the latter is true, he’s approximately a sex-tape away from world domination. It’s probably a mixture of the two, but if the next suspect link your mate sends you is entitled “One Night in Vladimir” you should be very worried.

Less surprising was the response to the calendar - in fact, I’m surprised it wasn’t produced first: another group of female students have made a calendar of their own. “Vladimir Vladimirovich, we have some questions…” instead features girls posing with tape over their mouths in protest at the alleged silencing of political dissidents. Captions included “Who killed Anna Politkovskaya?” referring to the unexplained death of the journalist, one of the Kremlin’s loudest critics, four years ago. Not quite as good a present for poor Vladimir, but probably quite important.

It’s easy to laugh so much at Putin’s idolisation that we forget the dissent he faces. Alleged political assassinations, illegal detention and the regime of a former KGB man do seem to fit unsettlingly together. The bizarre 2006 murder by radiation poisoning (of all things?) of Alexander Litvinenko in London  is one of many controversies which has refused to fade away - especially since Litvinenko had sought asylum in Britain, after accusing his superiors in the secret service of such murders; significantly, he had named Putin himself as having ordered Politkovskaya’s death. At least Paris Hilton’s biggest crime was only House of Wax.

It would seem that he has a lot to answer for, but it's doubtful he plans to do so. In the meantime, challenging him and the authorities still seems a risky business in Russia, and it’s quite alarming that one man can have such a hold on power, both within the political regime and informally through the media. The calendar war this week is part of a broader propaganda war which, though existing in and across every political arena, seems heightened around this one man.

The first part of this ‘take a random news story and ramble about it’ column, then, leaves me scratching my head at political celebrity and Putin’s grip on the Russian mind. Happy birthday, Mr Putin. Enjoy your calendar. But a few people might like some answers.