Friday Five: Happy Cross-Stitch

Being as my previous post was about some of the most intricate and exceptional tapestries I have ever seen, I feel somewhat inadequate posting this with the latest examples of my own work. I like doing them, however, so I'm going to continue to share. Let's just not compare though, shall we..?

When my parents were visiting my sister, she bought my mother a cross stitch to help her pass the time and give her something relaxing to do. Apparently my mother is not good at this form of relaxation, and she began it, but after a few rows she gave up. My sister gave it to me instead to complete, which I did, and returned it to her to display, as a memory of family dynamics!

A friend saw this image and thought of me -I can't imagine why! She sent it to me and I turned it into a cross stitch pattern. Now, the question is to who do I give it? There are so many possible recipients!

The following designs are Mandala cross stitch patterns from a calendar that a colleague had at work. She printed them off for me and I enjoyed making them. I didn't always have the exact colours that were specified, but I had a stab (as it were) so they may not be quite true to the original pattern, but I like the art anyway. 

My Newest Favourite Thing: The Unicorn Tapestries

1. The Hunters Enter the Woods

Unicorns have been rather co-opted into the (predominantly female) childish world of sparkly pink and rainbows. But they used to be magical creatures of mystery and influence. And they used to symbolise, among other things, chivalry, purity and Christianity.

A famous series of seven tapestries, The Hunt of the Unicorn or La Chasse à la licorne, dates from the late Middle Ages and shows a group of noblemen or hunters in pursuit of a unicorn through an idealised French landscape. The tapestries were woven in wool, metallic threads, and silk - the vibrant colours were produced from dye plants: weld (yellow); madder (red) and woad (blue). They were probably woven between 1495 and 1505 in Brussels, which was an important centre of the tapestry industry in Medieaval Europe. Whereas wool was widely produced in the rural areas around Brussels, and a common primary material in tapestry weaving, the silk was costly and hard to obtain, indicating the wealth and social status of the owner.

First recorded in 1680 in the Paris home of the Rochefoucauld family, the tapestries were looted during the French Revolution, rediscovered in a barn in the 1850s, and now hang in The Cloisters in New York. The tapestries themselves are the subject of intense scholarly debate about the meaning of their iconography, the identity of the artists who designed them, and even the order in which they are meant to be hung. Although various theories have been put forward, there is no definitive answer as to their provenance, and their dramatic but conflicting narratives have inspired multiple readings. 

2. The Unicorn is Found

According to Wikipedia, "One theory is that the tapestries show pagan and Christian symbolism. The pagan themes emphasise the medieaval lore of beguiled lovers, whereas Christian writings interpret the unicorn ad its death as the Passion of Christ. The unicorn has long been identified by Christian writers as a symbol of Christ. conscripting the traditionally pagan symbolism of the unicorn. The original pagan myths about The Hunt of the Unicorn refer to an animal with a single horn that can only be tamed by a virgin; Christian scholars translated this into an allegory for Christ's relationship with the Virgin Mary". 

In Gothic tapestry, the makers considered biblical events as 'historical' and linked the biblical and secular narratives in the tapestry weaving. Medieaval art illustrated moral principles, and the tapestries used narrative allegories to illustrate these morals. The secular unicorn hunt was not simply Christian art, but also an allegorical representation of the Annunciation.

3. The Unicorn is Attacked

There is some speculation that the unicorn tapestries were commissioned to celebrate a marriage - as medieaval poets connected the taming of the unicorn to the devotion and subjugation of love. The taming of the unicorn, therefore, symbolises the secular lover who was enchained by a virgin and trapped in the fence (in the tapestry The Unicorn in Captivity) - this all seems rather brutal and dominating, but apparently the concept of an overlapping God of Heaven and God of love was accepted in the late Middle Ages. 

Different interpretations lead to different titles and different sequences in which it is suggested the tapestries should be hung. The tapestries are different sizes and some suggest that they were designed for use as a bedroom ensemble, with the five large pieces fitting the back area of wall, while the other two pieces serve as the coverlet or overhead canopy. Others contend that the first and last may be independent works or form a different series entirely. 

4. The Unicorn Defends Itself

Whatever the interpretation, the tapestries are glorious and  rich in floral imagery, featuring the 'millefleurs' background style of a variety of small botanic elements. Invented by the weavers of the Gothic age, this style became popular during the late Medieaval era and declined after the early Renaissance. There are more than a hundred plants represented in the tapestries, scattered across the green backgrounds of the panels, most of which (85) have been identified by botanists according to a paper published in 1983. This paper maintains that the particular flowers featured in the tapestries reflect the tapestries' major themes and represent not only a secular, physical, enclosed garden (hortus conclusus), but also a connection with the Annunication.

5. The Mystic Capture of the Unicorn

If these tapestries look familiar, they probably are. Replicas of them can be found in all sorts of places in film and television, ranging from Spiderman: Far from Home to Family Guy and Once Upon a Time. They appear in the 1988 film, Some Girls, the 1993 film, The Secret Garden, and a French advert for cheese. Children's authors, science fiction short story writers, folk musicians and Leonard Cohen have all woven them into their artistic creations. In Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, the last tapestry in the series, The Unicorn in Captivity, is seen in the various common rooms (Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff) with different-coloured backgrounds. 

The Unicorn is Killed and Brought to the Castle

And now there are fantastic recreations adorning the walls of the Queen's Inner Hall at Stirling Castle, after a thirteen-year project to reweave the tapestries. They were never known to have been in the castle, but there is thought to have a been a series like it. Only the very wealthiest of people could afford tapestries, and an inventory shows that James V had a large collection including two sets which showed unicorns. A two-million-pound project saw two teams of three weavers recreating the tapestries and results in visitors to Stirling Castle being able to imagine something of the atmosphere of Scotland's royal court. 

The Unicorn is in Captivity and No Longer Dead

An exhibition at the castle tells the story of the recreation and explains how the tapestries were worked in the Medieval way, using a technique whereby the warp thread comes down, the weft thread is picked out, threaded through the warp, and packed down with the bobbin - I love the terminology as much as the painstaking process (The Unicorn in Captivity alone took two years to weave, working from right to left) and watching a video of the intricate art is truly incredible.

   

A selection of samples

To develop a greater understanding of the thread types, colour palette and weaving techniques used by the original weavers, several hundred samples were made by the weavers of the new Hunt of the Unicorn tapestries. The sample of a single hunter's knee on the bottom row was the first sample to be made and was woven at eight warps per centimetre, which is the warp count of the original 15th Century tapestries. This was done to calculate the commission cost of the full set of seven tapestries. The adjacent sample of two knees was woven at four warps per centimetre (which is what was used for the new tapestries) and saved thirteen years of production time. 

Some of the threads on bobbins

In the sample showing two knees the blending of colours in the left knee uses a traditional technique: separate threads of different colours are combined to create different tones. The blending of colours on the right knee has been made using a contemporary method where different coloured threads are blended together before weaving. The whole thing is quite remarkable and I felt extremely humbled by the dedication and the magnitude of the project. My little cross-stitches are nothing in comparison, but I still love the focus on a small section of canvas which, with individual stitches, brings an image to life. I'm sure that has to be a metaphor for something... Life's rich tapestry, perhaps? 

Blue and green should never be seen...

Friday Five: Best Films of 2020

In a year of closed cinemas, cancelled releases and straight-to-streaming services (I haven't got any of these), contemporary film-viewing was somewhat challenging. Nevertheless, I persisted, and watched 77 films this year, about a third of which (25) were released in 2020 in Australia. Once again the 'rules': I have to have seen the film; It has to have been released in 2020 in the country in which I was living; the films are listed in alphabetical order; I can have more than five if I want to; there will be honourable mentions.

 Best Films of 2020

1. 1917 - 'Do we really need another war film?', I thought to myself. The answer is yes, if it's directed by (Sir) Sam Mendes, a man who understands both acting and spectacle. He brings all the tricks of the stage to this brilliant drama. Part war story; part epic quest; part folk narrative; part natural cycle; part spiritual journey, with fantastic cameos (Colin Firth; Andrew Scott; Mark Strong; Benedict Cumberbatch; Jamie Parker) to complement the superb leads. And the single shot cinematography is sensational and works wonderfully to interpret the tension. Our heroes and saviours are not knights and generals but ordinary folk.
2. Jojo Rabbit - With moments of exquisite pathos and almost painful black humour, Taika Waititi has directed a piece of brilliance. Young Jojo (Roman Griffin Davis) tries to come to terms with the changing political events in Nazi Germany while trying to become a grown up, belong to a group, and retain humanity and empathy - not so very easy when your imaginary friend is Hitler (Taika Waititi) and your mother (Scarlett Johansson) is secretly sheltering a Jewish girl (Thomasin McKenzie) in the attic. Sam Rockwell brings sensitivity and humour to the deeply flawed Captain Klenznedorf, with Rebel Wilson striking the only wrong note as her performance is tonally out of tune with the rest of the cast.  The film is amazing: funny and poignant and shocking and absurd. I loved it! 
3. The Lighthouse - A black and white masterpiece of acting (Robert Pattinson; Willem Defoe) and direction (Robert Eggers), as two men attempt to retain their sanity while living at a remote lighthouse in New England in the 1890s. The cinematography (Jarin Blashke) remains tight as the mentality unravels, and the soundscape (Damian Volpe) is exquisite and intense. Hallucinations and judicious editing (Louise Ford) nudge the picture towards horror, and thoughts of romantic getaways to lighthouse keepers' cottages are left far behind. 
4. Les Misérables - It’s so much better without the songs... Heart-racingly brilliant with such tension and angst, I’m not sure I breathed for the last hour. A gendarme from the provinces (Damien Bonnard) joins an established and corrupt duo of street-wise policemen (Alexis Maneti and Djebril Zonga) in the inner-city suburb of Paris where Victor Hugo wrote his famous novel. The divisions of race, class, and effects of poverty on perception of crime are as relevant now as then, and metaphors abound as we see things from different perspectives (drones above and staircases below). This began as a short film (also written and directed by Ladj Ly) from 2017, and has extended into this 104-minute picture. Not one of those minutes is wasted. 

5. Little Women - I used to think I was Jo; now I'm worried I may have been Amy. I didn't think I needed to see yet another version of Little Women, but this was a touching and heartfelt adaptation: beautifully acted (Saorise Ronan; Emma Watson; Florence Pugh; Eliza Scanlon; Laura Dern; Timothée Chalomet) and directed (Greta Gerwig). Yes, I read it as a child and am invested in the story, but I always felt the ending was a cop-out and it raised my emerging feminist ire; this adaptation reassigns motives and I am happier with it (although my thoughts on whether to create art or children probably remain controversial). Moving the timeline around brings a fresh perspective (many purist critics dislike it and that's understandable, but it is an adaptation not a slavish recreation); it makes the women more active in their own stories rather than being responsive to events that happen to them. On a totally related note: I love and miss my sisters so much.
6. The Personal History of David Copperfield - The novel is a mad caper and so is the film, full of joy and charm and picaresque moments. Again, as an adaptation, it cannot hope to cram everything in, but director Armando Iannucci certainly knows what he's doing. He is assisted by a spectacular cast including Dev Patel (as the titular character), Hugh Laurie, Daisy May Cooper, Peter Capaldi, Tilda Swinton, Ben Wishaw and Paul Whitehouse, who all bring zest and energy to their roles. Iannucci and co-writer Simon Blackwell handle the tale with respect and reverence, tweaking bits here and there for a contemporary audience while never losing sight of the importance of a boy growing into a young man through learning and education, which are not the same thing.

Special mentions: 

The Big Step (Il Grande Passo) - Beautiful and gentle story written and directed by Antonio Padovan about estranged brothers (Guiseppe Battiston and Stefano Fresi) who find a friendship and commonality while trying to deal with abandonment, rejection and an obsession with the moon. The storytelling is simple and improbable, encouraging us to dream big and aim high.

Blithe Spirit - The latest film adaptation (directed by Edward Hall) of Blithe Spirit is utterly delightful with alterations to bring in the artifice and essential distractions of the film world (including that obvious reference in the final scene). Charles Condomine (Dan Stevens) and his wives (Isla Fisher and Leslie Mann) exhibit the arch and superficial perfection of the period piece rather marvellously, and design elements, set, costumes, hair and makeup are all glorious. Some won’t like the modifications to the script (I understand their reservations: I can be a bit like that with Shakespeare, where I don’t enjoy changes just for the hell of it, or to ‘engage new audiences’), but I felt the surface-charm-with-darker-edges aspect of this film is in keeping with the ‘spirit’ of Noel Coward’s original. As for Dame Judi’s performance, which some have dismissed as lazy, that seems churlish. Her characterisation displays warmth, enthusiasm, confusion, bravado, humility, sensitivity and a dash of eccentricity. She may not be the most sprightly Madame Arcati I’ve ever seen, but if I could turn out a performance like that when I’m 85 and legally blind, I would be happy.

Corpus Christi Despite being bookended by brutal acts, there are moments of deep reflection in this film. Daniel (Bartosz Bielenia) is a young man pretending to be a priest in a small Polish village rather than face his probationary position as a convicted criminal. As he soothes the sick and navigates toxic conflicts in the community, his actions raise questions of penance and punishment; reconciliation and redemption; atonement and absolution. The subtlety of acting, design and direction (Jan Komasa) allow the themes to shine through and the questions remain unanswered long after the film has finished.

Coyote Lake - In this highly-limited-release picture, Ester (Camila Mendes) and her overbearing mother, Theresa (Adriana Barraza) run a remote bed and breakfast near the US/Mexico border for desperate travellers. When two unwanted guests, Mario (Charlie Weber) and Dirk (Neil Sandilands) turn up with additional problems, things get frightening. Beguilingly seductive and chilling, this is a captivating debut thriller from writer/director Sara Seligman.

Eternal Beauty - Written and directed by Craig Roberts, this was billed as 'a comedy in which a woman recovers from a breakdown by finding love and life with surprising results'. This may be the worst description ever. I watched it as a Friday night light and fluffy entertainment option. Big mistake! It's a painfully sensitive depiction of schizophrenia and trying to make sense of a modern world when everyone else seems to think you're the mad one. Sally Hawkins, David Thewlis, Penelope Wilton and Billie Piper are all remarkable, and it left me sobbing on the sofa. Cheers, and you're welcome.

Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga - Disclaimer: I love Eurovision. I love the ridiculous outfits, terrible songs, barely disguised politics and blatant attempts to win/ lose votes with oversized props, wind machines and erotic dance moves, and so does director David Dobkin, obviously as now it’s more than just a drinking game: it’s a film! I missed Eurovision this year, and this film helps to make up for its loss: even Will Ferrell and Rachel McAdams, whom I usually find tedious and unfunny, are entertaining in this. I love all that cheesy ham, and if you do too, then this is your croque, Monsieur (et Madame).  

The Translators (Les Traducteurs) - Agatha Christie meets The Usual Suspects in a genre-bending piece that parodies every stereotype with guile and gaucherie in equal measure. It is thoroughly captivating for its hour and three quarters, never outstaying its welcome, and glibly forgettable once finished.

Friday Five: Who's Who on Christmas Day

Obviously many families are separated this year by disease as well as distance, but through the wonders of modern technology, many of us were able to gather and converse through a screen. I miss the hugs and the contact, but I love to see the smiles and hear the laughter. As part of my festive family get-together, I compiled a quiz around the whys and wherefores of Christmas. Round one was 'Who?' and featured the following people, all born on Christmas Day (and they're all in black and white because my colour printer wasn't working). Put your answers in the comments if you're interested, and I'll tell you if you're right.

5 People Born on Christmas Day

1. 
   
   
2. 
   
   
3. 
   
   
4. 
   
   
5. 

Boys' Own War Adventure: The Rest is Silence

The Rest Is Silence by James R Benn

Soho Crime

Pp. 323

The writing on the jacket claims that this is “a Billy Boyle World War II Mystery”, so it is obviously one of a series in which US Army Captain Billy Boyle and his partner Kaz work for the Office of Special Investigations: “our job was to deal with low crimes in high places that got in the way of the war effort. And to deal with them quietly, although quiet wasn’t always in the cards.” The novel was published in 2014, but the style is that of a previous era with a hard-boiled-detective noir fiction bent.

When a body washes up on Slapton Sands on England’s Southern Coast, Boyle and Kaz are called in to investigate. The Devonshire Beach is the home to Operation Tiger (April 1944), the top-secret rehearsal for the approaching D-Day invasion of Normandy. This was a real event in which hundreds of Allied soldiers lost their lives; there were more American casualties in the exercise than the actual attack.

While the men are investigating the crime, they are billeted in a country house full of rich people, which includes a dead patriarch, old animosities, and a contested will. This provides ample sub-plots about relationship dynamics. One of the family members, Edgar, is writing a book about the interpretation of the end of Hamlet, which is where the title of the novel originates. Boyle seems to be taking a swipe at academia and philosophy, whereas he deals in hard truths and manly facts.

He is a plastic Paddy American who hates the English as part of his shtick, having to restrain himself from voicing his true feelings. Boyle is related to General Dwight Eisenhower, who is everyone’s boss in the US Army: “I call him Uncle Ike”. Lady Pemberton, the matriarch of the house in which he is staying says, “One bristles at the idea of a foreigner, even one of our American cousins, telling the British army what to do. But he seems like a decent fellow.” Boyle is naturally tough and uncompromising and rejects authority figures, or certainly British ones. War is unpleasant, requiring a stern exterior, and Boyle narrates his part in a stoical fashion. He takes no prisoners and favours neither side, trying to remain natural about the situation.

In some cases the language strains to be contemporary to the setting. There are men with physical deformities including Kaz: “[Kaz] grinned, his scarred face looking slightly maniacal. I don’t much mind maniacal when it’s on my side.” And there are men with mental scars as a result of the war, who have suicidal tendencies and difficulty readjusting to civilian life. These issues may be well-known now but were less so at the time, making the recognition anachronistic though the sentiment is sound.

Much of the novel reads like a boys’ own adventure with comrades in arms, smugglers, gun fights, and bureaucratic conversations about military exercises and clandestine operations. Its main interest is in the fact that it is set around a genuine historic incident. There are many others in this series (fifteen at present count), so people are clearly drawn to this style of storytelling with a historical mystery set against a military background with a cynical world-weary hero.

Bootprints of 749 troops were laid out on Slapton Sands, Devon, in April 2019 to mark the 75th anniversary of Exercise Tiger.

Friday Five: Best Theatre of 2020

What with one thing and another (I think we all know what I mean), I've not had the chance to see much live theatre this year. So most of my top theatre of the year was seen in the first three months of 2020. And it was in Canberra/ Queanbeyan because we can't travel. I'm not including the National Theatre Live films of productions in this list, although some of those were excellent and certainly helped to get me through a period when I couldn't go to the theatre.

Tom Healey in Red Stitch Theatre's American Song

5 Best Theatre Production I Saw in 2020 (in alphabetical order):

1. American Song - Red Stitch Actors' Theatre and Critical Stages Touring, Queanbeyan Performing Arts Centre: One man theatre performed by Joe Petruzzi, directed by Tom Healey, and written by Joanna Murray-Smith is a heart-felt and sensitive account of how to cope with unfathomable loss due to gun violence. It's not as preachy as it could easily be, and the dry-stone wall metaphor may be a little stretched, but it is so well-meant that I'll let it stand.
2. Brighton Beach Memoirs - Canberra Repertory Society, Theatre 3: If I'm honest I'm a bit bored with stories about men being men or becoming men. I know this is not the fault of the writer (write what you know. right?) but rather the publishing houses and production companies who choose these stories over anything else. But the second rule of reviewing is 'review what is there; not what you want to be there' (the first is 'don't give away the plot'), and in that vein, this is a pretty fine production. Director Karen Vickery has obviously worked on diction and projection - despite the assumed American accents, I can still understand 90% of what the cast are saying - and has also imported a realism of action that works well with the home-spun tale of how a kid became a writer. The semi-autobiographical character of Eugene Jerome is played with plenty of energy and promise by Jamie Boyd, who looks to have a bright future if theatre survives in this town, and, as his mother, Victoria Dixon is dignified and powerful with an exceptional touch of insecurity. The family dynamics with their alliances, splits, and hierarchical divisions (three adults, three children and one teenager are crammed into a Brooklyn apartment) are highlighted brilliantly by Chris Baldock's set, which paints its own claustrophobic pictures.
3. Family Values - Griffin Theatre Company, The Playhouse: Full of meaty goodness - political satire in its natural habitat with plenty of energy and dysfunctional dynamics. As he prepares for his 70th birthday, retired judge, Roger (Andrew McFarlane) holds forth smugly on a number of issues, including refugees, detention centres and boat people, in such a way that will obviously be challenged when his family arrive and question all of his assumptions. Great work by creative cast and crew brings this aphoristic text (David Williamson) to life.
4. Hell Ship - Chester Creative, Queanbeyan Performing Arts Centre: Another one-man show (more likely due to financial considerations rather than viral ones) as Michael Veitch interprets a personal story about the doctor on board the 'fever ship', Ticonderoga, which arrived in Melbourne in 1852, and on which 170 of the 800 passengers (mainly Scottish families who had embarked seeking a new life) died from typhus. The doctor, James William Henry Veitch was Veitch's great-great grandfather, and he portrays his initial warmth, humour and subsequent survivor's guilt with the help of a sheet and some creative lighting.
5. HMS Pinafore - Hayes Theatre Co, Queanbeyan Performing Arts Centre: This show is amazing! Kate Gaul has directed a masterpiece with respect and irreverence in equal measure. I suspected I would like it, but I was not expecting to love this as much as I do: I simply can't stop smiling. The star-crossed lovers; the mismatched marriages; the mistaken identities; the entirely relevant gender-reversals; the songs I didn't even know I knew; the hyper-realism of set and costume... Oh joy, oh rapture unforeseen; it is absolutely beautiful and an utter delight. In case you can't tell, I f*•^ing loved it.

Andrew McFarlane as Roger and Belinda Giblin as Sue in Griffin Theatre's Family Values

I would also like to give a special mention to a couple of venues who have done everything they can to support live performance (theatre; music; comedy), namely The Basement in Belconnen, Smiths Alternative, and Canberra Repertory Society in the CBD. They have kept going as best they can providing entertainment to live audiences and encouraging the arts in the most fundamental and necessary manner. People want to perform and people want to see them do so - let's keep this alive.

Victoria Dixon as Kate and Jamie Boyd as Eugene in Canberra Rep's Brighton Beach Memoirs

There is no Planet B: The Battle of the Labyrinth

The Battle of the Labyrinth by Rick Riordan

Disney Hyperion

Pp. 361

In this fourth instalment in the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series, Percy and his companions embark on quest through the Labyrinth, a terrifying place created by Daedalus, which exists in another dimension. Like its predecessors, the novel is an entertaining introduction to the world of Greek mythology, featuring gods, heroes, monsters, half-bloods and mortals There are great action scene set pieces, and an underpinning ecological message that keeps the pace varied and adds a touch of depth to the adventures.

We meet many gods, who mostly fight each other: the Olympians are in perpetual conflict with the Titans, ruled by Kronos who is gathering his forces in secret. The gods with their games and their prophecies are fickle and deceptive. Thy are omnipotent, yet they fight against the heroes and half-bloods with their magical assistants. For example, Quitus has a large and terrifying hellhound called Mrs O’Leary who can kill and chews on a life-size squeaky pink rubber yak. There are magical swords, invisibility caps, and charmed whistles, but we learn that humans’ knowledge can help as much as (if not more than) magic.

In a gameshow sequence Annabeth has to answer the sphinx’s riddle: she thinks she knows it (the one about the ages of man), but it has been changed because everyone knows that one by now. “Canned applause blasted from the ceiling, as if there were invisible loud speakers. Spotlights swept across the room and reflected off the dais, throwing disco glitter over the skeletons on the floor.” The pop-culture meets horror story aesthetic is very similar to a Stephen King novel.

The satirical style is maintained throughout to counteract the hyperbolic escapades, and Riordan makes great use of the deadpan approach (pun intended), such as when he introduces the idea of Grover searching for Pan, god of the wild. It is Grover’s mission to find Pan, and if he fails, his life means nothing. “I’d never heard him sound so confident about anything, except maybe that cheese enchiladas were better than chicken enchiladas.” Pan’s wilderness is being destroyed by humans and development. Gods can’t die, but they can fade, as Pan tells Grover, “when everything they stood for is gone. When they cease to have power, and their sacred places disappear. The wild is so small now, so shattered, that no god can save it. My realm is gone.” 

The remaining humans must work together for salvation. The name, Pan, originally meant rustic, but over the years it has come to mean all. “The spirit of the wild must pass to all of you now. You must tell each one you meet: if you would find Pan, take up Pan’s spirit. Remake the wild, a little at a time, each in your own corner of the world. You cannot wait for anyone else, even a god, to do that for you.” The environmental message is strong, suggesting that life (both of people and the planet) is fragile and that we should take more care of it. Hephaestus bemoans, “People are more difficult to work with than machines. And when you break a person, he can’t be fixed.”

Percy Jackson was hailed as the new Harry Potter, and there are many similarities with J.K. Rowling’s wizard world. Percy is different; he has ADHD, which means he can’t sit still and he blurts things out – perhaps this is also an excuse for antisocial behaviour? His dreams threaten to torment him, as did Harry’s. He goes to camp every summer, fights to protect his friends, starts having human hormones, learns to accept difference, and deals with monsters and magic that ‘normal’ humans can’t see. Camp Half-Blood is very dangerous and people die there; each year there is a quest, and everyone wants one so that they can prove themselves. Rachel asks Percy, not unreasonably, “So you do this every summer? Fight monsters? Save the world? Don’t you ever get to do just, you know, normal stuff?”

There are five novels in this series and it is all building to the final show-down. After all, that’s how fantasy always ends; not with a whimper, but with a big bang.