Looks like a *mixed* relationship... Not sure if that'd work!

Just Finished Reading: Chickenhawk by Robert Mason (FP: 1983) [399pp] 

Robert Mason wanted to fly for as long as he could remember. Gaining his civilian pilot's licence as soon as he could he still wasn’t satisfied. He wanted to fly helicopters but the only way he could afford that was to be trained by the Army, so he joined up. Despite the worsening situation in SE Asia, he never expected to be sent to Vietnam. That, among other things, just showed his lack of understanding about the world. Within weeks of getting his helicopter pilot's licence he was on his way overseas with a new type of combat unit – the 1st Air Cavalry. For the next 12 months, from August 1965 to July 1966, he would fly over 1,000 combat missions delivering troops into hot LZs (Landing Zones), returning later to pick up the survivors, the wounded and the dead, he would deliver ammunition, food and other supplies to artillery units on lonely hilltops, and he would fly top brass and reporters across the jungle to ‘assess how things were going’. Apart from being an effective member of his squadron and not letting the guys down he had only one driving ambition – to survive his tour (despite everything) and return home to his wife and child. He did (no spoiler here as he wrote this book!) but as a changed man plagued by nightmares and increasing addicted to alcohol and drugs. 

This was a mistake. I had thought, going in, that this was a novel so I could add another Vietnam entry into my fictional world tour. The book turned out to be, however, a personal account of the authors experiences as part of an experimental tactical unit expected to win the war in Vietnam in a matter of months. This was, in many ways, an impressive work. Not only did the author (not a professional writer in any way) convey the reality of modern warfare – the chaos and incompetence at all levels was honestly shocking – but did so in such a way that you could almost imagine sitting in that helicopter with him throughout the narrative. No doubt he pulled his punches from time to time to reduce the grimness of the tale, but what he did end up conveying was bad enough.  

The new ‘Air Cav’ system was expected to be a true war winner. Afterall, the most powerful military in the world was fighting (if you could use that word) a bunch of guys in sandals carried AK-47s, right? How could they possibly lose? Yet much to the surprise of the top brass (although quickly understood by the men on point) not only did the Vietcong not quickly go down to defeat and despondency they not only fought back but fought back effectively – and the US military had little response except more and more troops and more and more firepower. Looking at it with 60 years of hindsight it's easier to see why they failed. Firstly, it was all (effectively) new to the Americans despite their experiences in WW2. On top of that they were trying out, with great hopes, their new lethal toys against a supposedly primitive enemy. Their (actually warranted) arrogance wouldn’t allow them to see problems before they arose or solutions once the problems morphed into an intractable mire. The author related a simple but significant fact – before flying into his first combat zone he, and other pilots and gunners, were promised body armour. This finally arrived SEVEN months into a twelve-month deployment. Apart from logistical incompetence the reason I think this happened was because no one believed that they’d still be involved in the war for 6 months, never mind in excess of 16 YEARS. This level of over confidence (or arrogance) resulted in a lot of unnecessary deaths on all sides.  

I’d read a bit about this war before, watched movies and documentaries and actually remember watching it on the nightly news growing up, but this account was a real eye-opener to the reality on the ground. If you want to be exposed to how things where ‘in country’ from a first-hand perspective this is a very good place to start. Definitely recommended and more from this combat zone to come. 

[Highest page count of the year so far: 399pp][+17pp]

It's all a Fantasy.... 

Despite being originally very much a fan of Science-Fiction, I did periodically dip my toe into the Fantasy realm and I liked it (mostly). Although tales of dragons and swords didn’t manage to push all of my buttons they certainly pushed enough to get me coming back for more. But, over time, I slowly lost interest. But lately I’ve been thinking of trying again – at least to venture into a few books (or even series) per year.  

Fortunately, just as I had been expecting, The Matrix was listening – as it always is – and I was recently presented with a long-form YouTube video where the presenter outlined his plans to read the best 500 Fantasy books of all time. Attached to the video was the list he was intending to work from which I downloaded. Running through it I removed those I’d already read and didn’t want to re-read plus a handful that I have no intention of reading. It still left quite a LOT. Obviously, I have zero intention of working my way through 400+ works of Fantasy, but it has given me some very good ideas of where to re-start my quest. 

Added to this motivation I’ve had a few recent re-encounters with Michael Moorcock and Ursula K LeGuin. I used to be a HUGE Moorcock fan back in the late 70’s/early 80’s and was looking through my paperback collection just yesterday to re-discover what I own. I have three complete trilogies/series of his ready to go as well as most of the Elric and Jerry Cornelius books. I’ll see if I do in fact have the missing books somewhere else, but I might end up going incomplete. I’ve also never read the LeGuin Earthsea books which I’ve heard are highly praised. As a BIG fan of her other work I thought I’d give it/them a try too. 

I’m not expecting a sudden significant influx of Fantasy titles so don’t expect that! I’ll aim at three this year not including Alice in Wonderland which I was already scheduling. I’ll probably start off with something short – and maybe just short stories to be honest – to begin with to see if my desire for more catches fire. We’ll see.    

Happy Birthday: Lucrezia de' Medici (14 February 1545 – 21 April 1561).

[I was struggling to find a birthday person this week until I came across this tragic creature.]

She was a member of the House of Medici and by marriage Duchess consort of Ferrara, Modena and Reggio from 1558 to 1561.

Married to the intended husband of her elder sister Maria, who died young, her marriage was short and unhappy. The Duchess died of pulmonary tuberculosis, but almost immediately after her death there were rumors that she had been poisoned on the orders of her husband. That suspicion inspired the English poet Robert Browning to create a dramatic monologue in verse "My Last Duchess" (1842).

Born in Florence on 14 February 1545, Lucrezia was the fifth child and third daughter of Cosimo I de' Medici, Duke of Florence (and from 1569 Grand Duke of Tuscany), and Eleanor of Toledo. Her paternal grandparents were the famous condottiere Giovanni delle Bande Nere and Maria Salviati (granddaughter of Lorenzo the Magnificent). Her maternal grandparents were Pedro Álvarez de Toledo, Viceroy of Naples, and Maria Osorio, 2nd Marchioness of Villafranca del Bierzo. Lucrezia was named after her great-grandmother Lucrezia de' Medici (1470–1553) (mother of Maria Salviati).

From childhood, Lucrezia's parents sought suitable marriage candidates for their daughters. From 1549 to 1550, it was planned that Lucrezia would be married to Don Pedro de Aragona y Cardona, 3rd Duke of Montalto. Then in 1552 she was betrothed to Fabio Dal Monte, a nephew of Pope Julius III, but the engagement was canceled after the death of the Pope in 1555.

In 1557, as a sign of reconciliation between Ercole II d'Este, Duke of Ferrara (who held a pro-French position), and King Philip II of Spain, it was decided that Alfonso d'Este, Hereditary Prince of Ferrara, would marry Maria de' Medici, the eldest daughter of Cosimo I, an ally of Spain. However, Maria died shortly thereafter and Lucrezia took her place.

Once in Ferrara, the already frail Duchess spent almost all her time in her rooms. Less than a year after her arrival, on 21 April 1561, she died, after suffering a month of fever, severe weight loss, constant coughing and a permanently bleeding nose. According to Dr. Andrea Pascvali, sent from Florence to the Duchess by her father, Alfonso was concerned about Lucrezia's state of health during the entire period of her illness. An autopsy by the same doctor revealed that the Duchess had died of "putrid fever"; modern historians believe that her death was caused by pulmonary tuberculosis. Despite this, after her death, there were rumors that she had been poisoned.

Shocked at the death of the young Duchess, Bronzino dedicated a posthumous sonnet to her. Lucrezia is also the heroine of the dramatic monologue in verse, "My Last Duchess" by Robert Browning, first published under the title "Italy" in 1842, and under the more well-known title in 1845. She is also the subject of the 2022 novel The Marriage Portrait by award-winning author Maggie O'Farrell. Inspired by Browning's poem, her marriage to Alfonso is the subject of Gabrielle Kimm's 2010 novel His Last Duchess.

Happy St Valentine's Day.... Go hug a loved one!

Happy World Radio Day... Tune in and drop off... 

Just Finished Reading: Three Tang Dynasty Poets [53pp] 

I wasn’t expecting to review a booklet of 8th century Chinese poets today. What I was expecting to review was a short selection of avant-garde works by Gertrude Stein on Food. But just a few pages into that I decided that it was essentially unreadable, or at least that I valued my time/effort in excess of what was required to power my way through her (very) short work. Life is too short and my review pile too small for that sort of thing – so here we are. I had promised myself that I would read ALL of the Penguin short classics, but I have failed. [sobs] Life, and reading, however, goes on. 

THIS short booklet held the works of three poets (from 8th century China) and broke down into three main themes – nature, the missing of/longing for a separated loved one and a few tales of combat from this rather violent age. Generally, I much preferred the nature poems. 

I think the one I liked best was actually the first one – Song of the Peach Tree Spring – where a fisherman stumbles upon an idyllic hidden community and is so entranced that he decides to live there permanently only to discover he can’t find his way back.  

As I’ve said several times now, poetry just isn’t my thing. There has been a vanishing few that have captivated my attention (some of which I memorised, at least in part, decades ago and can still recall with a bit of effort) but generally I see them – much like comic books – as just too short or ephemeral to appreciate. I guess my brain just doesn’t work that way. 

No doubt in either of the boxsets I’m presently working my way through there will be more poetry works to try to engage with. I wonder if any of them will ‘stick’?     

Translated from the Chinese by G W Robinson and Arthur Cooper 

Erm.... 'Drama free'? I really don't think this person has had a cat in their life before.........