Narcissism (n). An author reading reviews of his own book.

There's something incredibly narcissistic about reading reviews of my own book, particularly when the reviewer talks about my abilities as an author.  Which won't stop me from doing it; I merely point out one of my numerous personality defects.

On the plus side, there's nothing like writing a book for discovering like-minded people.  The whole process is worth it just for that alone.

So here forthwith is a review of The Pericles Commission at Marilyn's Mystery Reads.

An interesting passage

I'm going to quote a passage from The Commodore, by Patrick O'Brian.  O'Brian wrote sea adventure stories set in Napoleonic times, his heroes being Captain Aubrey of the Royal Navy and Dr Stephen Maturin.  To give you some context, two ships, named Surprise and Berenice, are traveling home in convoy.  Surprise had previously been in a spot of bother from which they were saved by Berenice.

There's something remarkable about this passage.  Here it is:

Though unconscionably long, it was a most companionable voyage, particularly as the Surprise was able to do away with much of the invidious difference between deliverer and delivered by providing the sickly and under-manned Berenice with a surgeon, her own having been lost, together with his only mate, when their boat overturned not ten yards from the ship—neither could swim, and each seized the other with fatal energy—so that her people, sadly reduced by Sydney pox and Cape Horn scurvy, were left to the care of an illiterate but fearless loblolly-boy; and to provide her not merely with an ordinary naval surgeon, equipped with little more than a certificate from the Sick and Hurt Board, but with a full-blown physician in the person of Stephen Maturin, the author of a standard work on the diseases of seamen, a Fellow of the Royal Society with doctorates from Dublin and Paris, a gentleman fluent in both Latin and Greek (such a comfort to his patients), a particular friend of Captain Aubrey's and, though this was known to very few, one of the Admiralty's—indeed of the Ministry's—most valued advisors on Spanish and Spanish-American affairs: in short an intelligence-agent, though on a wholly independent and voluntary basis.

How many sentences in that passage?  How many different types of punctuation?

I find that just incredible.  207 words, and I bet most people wouldn't even spot it if they were reading the book.  He gets away with it because his rhythm is absolutely perfect.

O'Brian would be the greatest living writer of the English language, if he weren't dead.

IXEA: like IKEA, but for Roman furniture

IXEA is open for business.  It's like IKEA, only at IXEA they sell exact replicas of ancient Roman furniture.  

Want to live like an emperor?  Lie back on a plush red dining couch while you check out the latest issue of Acta Diurna?  Now's your big chance.  

IXEA is run by Limburg Museum in the Netherlands.  Thanks to Irene Hahn for pointing this out. 

The catalogue is at http://www.limburgsmuseum.nl/ixea/.  Hurry now while stocks last.

Vampires and zombies

Ancient Greece was depressingly short on vampires, zombies and ninjas, though they were well stocked for pirates.

Ninjas of course are just totally the wrong culture.

Zombies don't work out because once you're in Hades, there's no coming back, so living dead isn't a concept; they did however manage to have quite a few psyches wandering the earth.

Vampires again are the wrong culture.  Though if vampires are your thing, I note that regular reader of this blog Carrie Clevenger has a vampire novel appearing next year, which she announced via an interview with her main character.

On the plus side, they did have titans, ladies with stony expressions and snakes for hair, various demigods, three-headed dogs, cyclops, minotaurs  etc.  Also the odd god and goddess.  My favourite movie of ancient, mythological Greece isn't the recent stuff about Alexander and Troy.  My fave is definitely the original Jason and the Argonauts, complete with special effects that were incredible for their time, and for my money, remain more dramatic than the smoother but less interesting computer generated effects.  Here's the famous fight with the skeletons (yes, I know they're not Greek).  Keep in mind, this entire scene was done with stop-motion cinematography.

A classical Greek doll

Here's a child's doll from classical Greece.  Very few children's toys survived, so this thing is precious.  It's made of terracotta and dated 500BC to 400BC, exactly the period I'm writing in.  This is the sort of doll Diotima would have played with when she was a little girl.

These are my own photos, taken at the excellent Getty Villa.  If you're ever in LA, the Getty is a must-see.  Notice the articulation hinged on pins.  Needless to say, the doll would have been painted in bright, happy colours.