Wherefore art thou, Blogger?

I have recently been having problems trying to publish posts to my blogsite? I have an entertaining little pink message as follows - "An error occurred while trying to save or publish your post. Please try again." Immediately followed by the cheery blue message - "Ignore warning."

Now I still remember the pre-personal-computer days of my undergrad years in Pietermaritzburg, when computer programming meant an elaborate and clumsily inefficient method of using hundreds of punched cards to convey a few instructions which were read by a card reader which functioned a bit like the modern paper money counter in your local bank. Most of my efforts in card punching were pronounced wanting by the reading machine (linked as it was to the Durban campus "server" about an hour's drive away) in robust computer language - "Error! Abort!" it would cry. It was an impatient machine and on the back of more than one or two errors it spat out a final humiliating "Error! Abort! Fin!"

The most pleasure I received from computer programming in those days was marvelling at the wasteful abundance of coloured card papers littering the floor (having experienced war torn and paper destitute Rhodesia) and saving stacks of cards to write notes on (which I must confess also gave me a perverse sense of joy).

Having received such an early insight into the basics of a computer's mind - do I look like the kind of person who is likely to ignore the pink writing in favour of the blue?

Rambly thoughts from 2008 on Books

Tollyported (above) is not an unhappy pair of stories - just a gentle poking of fun at the scientific fraternity from whose ranks I lately emerged, and a gentle spoofing of science fiction and quantum physics. The sheep are serious.

I came across some old thoughts of mine today while sorting out my "Story Ideas" folder -

"I want also to write stories that reflect the gentler part of human experience. My perspective is that it is easier to write stories of negativity and trauma, because the subject matter itself holds a fascination in part for its shock value and in part has the same pull as in motorists slowing down to view an accident scene. The story allows the reader to vicariously experience another’s suffering while actually feeling comfortable that the reader’s own life is different, better organised and that one would not fall prey to the same kinds of blindness, idiocy or bad luck that has led the story’s protagonist into such trouble.

"And yet there is also a kind of subliminal nausea after finishing such a book. There is something pornographic in observing or reading about horror or trauma. In a way, the reader is deriving pleasure out of witnessing another’s pain, even when that other is a fictional character. Thus, “Midnight’s Children”, “Disgraced”, or “Blindness”, for example, are not only profoundly depressing, but leave me with a more sickened view of both humanity in general and the authors in particular. I must add though that "Blindness" does contain a particularly lyrical description of women washing themselves that encapsulates a humane beauty.

"Our current era is absorbed with pain and disappointment, and more so with disillusionment. This is justified as being “gritty”, “revealing the truth of the human condition”, “exposing the mean underbelly”, “telling it like it is” and a host of other stock phrases. The fact is that a large number of modern novels are clichéd. The clichés vary with the specific society that the novels come from. And in the end, the story-lines are banal.

"Thus, the stock modern female English novel generally concerns the boredom of urban or well-off country life, leading the protagonist to attempt a search for “meaning” – which predictably devolves into the standard substitute for “finding oneself”- the affaire with a least-expected someone, and by a string of tawdry revelations concerning the lives of all those in one’s family, set of friends / village or suburb – and no transcendent resolution.

"Much of the magical reality of South America, when one has read enough of it, is poetic but seamy and is ultimately depressing.

"Indian novelists write agonised and confused renditions of family histories. As the story progresses, the trials of the increasingly despairing and unfortunate protagonist, hopelessly and inappropriately in love, are interspersed with miraculous occurrences, mothers and masala.

"South African novels are so often stark and depressing in their jaundiced view of humanity that they are best read to the swishing accompaniment of the flail across one’s shoulders.

"Russian and east European novels still express grimly despairing fatalism in the tradition of the major eighteenth and nineteenth century Russian novelists – a long litany of suicide, murder, madness, betrayal and tuberculosis, where Chekov’s plays were considered the ultimate in frivolity. Must be something about the weather.

"This is not to say that the novels themselves are not beautifully and memorably written. But there comes a point when I think – is this all there is? Why is it so difficult to write strong and beautiful stories for adults that reflect and explore the kinder, altruistic, humane part of human nature without burlesquing them (as in “The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency”) or appearing “Pollyanna-ish”?

"Of course, as I write this, there immediately spring to mind a large number of stories that do celebrate goodness – Mitch Albom’s “The five people you meet in heaven”, Ray Bradbury’s books, particularly his highly poetically written “The illustrated man” (the ending is utterly transcendent), “A good man in Africa”, Marquez’ “News of a kidnapping” and Vonnegut’s “Bluebeard” – but the stories still are achieved through relating disturbing or traumatic events. Is it at all possible to write a fascinating story (a very short story??) that concerns the illustration of simple goodness, or love in quiet circumstances?

"Actually – I can answer that – the traditional adventure story allowed the characters to be display all that was considered rational and civilised - their resourcefulness, nobility, and determination - as they wrestled externally with new environments or rescued people from suitably faceless massed hordes – another version of the hero’s journey. Rider-Haggard’s and Jules Verne’s stories, “The Coral Island” and “The Swiss family Robinson” spring to mind. Yet these have predominantly come to be considered out-dated children’s stories. And the traditional adventure story has been re-written introspectively by the likes of Conrad (“Heart of Darkness” being the all-time classic here), “Lord of the Flies”, some of D H Lawrence’s tales based in South American settings, and slightly satirically in H G Wells’ “The History of Mr Polly”.

  

 "This has become a long ramble that reduces into my loving many books for many reasons, but not wanting to write on the current stock grim socio-politically correct, socially relevant themes."