Is it just my imagination, or could this book be seen as slightly self-referential?
No offence intended to the author – I haven’t read the book so I’m not really passing comment, but you can see what I’m driving at, right?
Category: Pictures Page 32 of 46
‘The Mirror of Time’ is the latest incarnation of the ‘Bodyworlds’ series of exhibitions, run by the anatomist Gunther von Hagens. And yes, the Bodyworlds exhibitions are the ones with real dead bodies preserved by a process called ‘plastination’.
Let’s just deal with the issue of looking at dead bodies first; I have no problem at all with it – I don’t consider the human body, even stripped of its flesh, ugly or scary or gross or anything like that, though I understand that a lot of people might feel that way. That’s fine, though I do dislike it when saying ‘I don’t like it’ gets conflated with ‘ah, but were the bodies obtained legally?’ and the like. I’m absolutely fine with the idea of something I’m interested in not being to someone else’s tastes.
As an aside, I think part of the reason that such sights might creep people out is because the only times we’re generally likely to see the human body with its musculature exposed, or nerves poking out, is in a horror film (example: Hellraiser) where it’s not exactly presented in a good light. And its sheer lack of familiarity (to most of us, anyway) makes looking at such sights feel like looking at one of those lifeforms from the bottom of the Marianas Trench – just too outside of our frame of refence to be immediately comfortable, basically.
Anyway, all that aside, I thought this was an interesting exhibition. It starts off showing the stages of development in the womb, and then shows various stages in the lifecycle, with particular emphasis on aging and other ways that our internal organs change and decay over time. There are several other plastinated forms which don’t really fit in the ‘chronology’ really – a plastinated horse and giraffe, for example – but the overall theme just about holds, and I was genuinely surprised at some of the items, such as the size difference between a healthy and a diseased liver.
This was the first time I’d seen one of these exhibitions, and thus the first time I’d been within such a short distance of a dead body. I have to say that, even knowing that these were real people who’d once been walking and breathing and eating and pooing like you or I, after seeing the first one, I didn’t really focus on that aspect of it, but instead was more intrigued by the way you could see the nerves or whatever. Which, I guess, is the point of the exhibition.
I did come away, though, with a renewed sense of being impressed at just what a clever device the human body is; fragile in some respects and yet resilient in so many others, and whether you believe that the form developed as a result of some divine intervention or evolution or some other route, it’s nonetheless an incredible organism, and the mere fact that you’re able to see these words and read them and interpret them as having some meaning is, in itself, the result of a number of biological processes in a system that we could all too easily take for granted. That said, Mrs Wife and I did go on to the chip shop afterwards, so one might argue that the respect for the body was short-lived.
If you don’t find the idea of the plastinated forms off-putting, there’s some informative stuff to be gleaned from this exhibition, and I’d recommend it.
It’s on at the (now post-)Millennium Dome in Greenwich, London, until August 23, 2009.
A lot of posters for films, as you may have noticed, tend not to quote actual words from reviews nowadays, instead preferring to include stars. A little-known fact about the film industry is that the stars you see in film reviews are not stars in the Michelin-restaurant-acclaim fashion, but are actually asterisks that were intended to be included in the original review.
That being the case, you’re probably wondering how to decode what the reviewer actually thought of the film. Well, here at John Soanes, we’re nothing if not public-minded, so here’s a handy cut-out-and-keep guide to the real meaning of the stars you see on film posters…
Carry the above with you at all times, and next time you see a film advertised without proper words being quoted from the reviews, use the above and all will be revealed!
I talked back here about how pleased I was to get this book at a bargain price, and I’m even more pleased to be able to report that it’s a cracking read.
The plot, put very simply, is that student Ariel Manto finds a copy of the rare book ‘The End Of Mr Y’ – she’s pleased about this, as it’s covered by a thesis she’s writing on the author of the book, who disappeared. Like the main character in the book. And where exactly has her tutor vanished to?
The writing style is very readable, even when characters have to talk about some fairly in-depth theoretical stuff, and it’s got enough twists and turns to keep you unsure what’s going to happen next – it was, cliché as it may sound, the kind of book that made me wish I had just one more tube or bus stop to go before I had to stop reading.
My only niggle was that the slight romance sub-plot felt just that – slight – and I thought it was going to develop into something slightly more interesting than it did, but really this was just a disappointment in comparison to the way the other plot elements flowered so satisfyingly.
Definitely recommended, and if you’re wavering, do bear in mind that the edges of the pages are all black, so as one carries it around it looks like a grimoire, or some other book containing mysterious knowledge. A book that’s both a good read and physically well-designed? What’s not to like?
One to own, and certainly read more than once, I’d say.
A quick glance at the column to the right will show the name Stevyn Colgyn, and regular readers will know that I’ve linked to comments and stuff on Steve’s blog before (and he’s reciprocated). What I haven’t directly drawn your attention to yet is the fact that Steve has a book out, called Joined-Up Thinking. Though you might well have guessed that from the picture.
Yes, a real book, with a hardcover and a dustjacket and everything. And I can confidently – and honestly – say that it’s a corking read, as I just finished reading my copy last night; Steve was kind enough to give me a signed (and indeed cartooned) copy a day or so ahead of publication, and even with my slow, finger-across-the-page reading style, I rattled throught it at a good old rate, because it’s fun and addictive stuff, showing all sorts of connections between things which you’d never have known about otherwise (as a huge fan of Twin Peaks, I was delighted to see it connected to Les Miserables, to give but one example).
It’s a lively read, and I heartily recommend it. Try not to be swayed by my bias – Steve’s a thoroughly nice chap, and a friend – because it’s good fun, and Steve writes well, especially when explaining the background to things. Oh, and one short chapter does a great job of debunking a number of urban myths, which I found particularly enjoyable (though maybe that’s because I’m always the first one to hit ‘Reply All’ and type ‘Urban Myth’ when I get one of those e-mails warning me of some unlikely peril, or claiming that I’ll get a gazillion pounds from Bill Gates if I forward it to ten people I know).
You can buy it online – here, for example – and in all good bookshops (yes, and some otherwise shoddy ones as well).
Go on, buy a copy (or more than one), and see why one reviewer referred to the book as ‘Trivia Porn’ (though that’s a better pastime than Porn Trivia – after all, few of us can remember the names of the lighting crew on Naughty Gym Instructors I – VII)…
…then I saw the names of the actors above the title.
Alec Baldwin and Scarlet Johansson together in a film? Wow, that might be – hey, hang on a minute, they put the forenames of the cast in smaller type in the hope I wouldn’t notice! The swines!
And that mendacity of marketing is enough to make me think nope, it’s a swipe.
A mother of five suffers a stroke live on international television, and no-one bats an eyelid.
Well, except her, obviously.
One of the sights which I always found fascinating as a kid was that of raindrops clinging to cobwebs, making them look like a net of jewels.
Imagine my delight on seeing not one, but four such water-laden webs this morning, on some park railings.
Huzzah for my phone’s camera facility, I say!
… And of course a cheer for nature, for making this phenomenon happen in the first place.
Click to enlarge and see the real reason the Large Hadron Collider has been switched off until next year.
(Is this offensive? Only, I think, to scientists who might not like to consider the possibility that they might be wrong. But if you disagree, that’s what the Comment function is for…)
If Angus and Janette were romantically involved, they’d find their wardrobes doubled at a stroke.
Just a thought (mind you, she doesn’t look too impressed)…