book covers.

Graham Greene is, and always will be, one of my favorite authors.

My love affair began the first week of my first year of college, when my first professor--a red-headed, pipe-smoking, wee Hobbit-y man assigned my first English Lit. class our first book, The Comedians.

Greene was prolific in a Joyce Carol Oates kind of way, so there's always another novel to look forward to (although his "entertainments," a series of straight thrillers like Stamboul Train, are skippable) and numerous film adaptations--good ones, like Our Man in Havana, The End of the Affair, The Quiet American. (Brighton Rock is currently in my Netflix queue.)

What I also love about Greene novels is that they come in pretty packages. I especially love the Penguin series from the 60s-70s book covers illustrated by Paul Hogarth.

More to love:

Love this geometric skirt available for pre-order from Plenty by Tracy Reese.

I love this recipe for a Golden Beet and Tzatziki Sandwich.

And this recipe for Pear and Pomegranate Salsa. 

Love this list: 11 Thrilling Books for People Who Don't Read Thrillers.

Wear a little planter around your neck--love this!

british spies & secret stairs.

I have a new obsession: spies. In both films and books. It kicked off last year around this time with Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. Still going strong.

So, I'm reading this book right now.

I know there's the Captain Obvious reason for the fascination--my dad was an intelligence officer for many years. I can disclose that to you now, since he's retired. I know it's like "Maybe if I read a bunch of books, it will give me some insight into his secret life, blah, blah, blah..." No. That's pap psychology for peasants. Meh.

Specifically, I'm captivated by authors who were also spies--Maugham, Conrad, Greene. As I mentioned in my last entry, I started reading this:

And I came upon this passage:

"A poet's an individualist. He can dress as he likes; he depends only on himself. 

A novelist depends on other men: he's an average man with the power 

of expression. 'E's a spy...'E 'as to see everything and pass unnoticed. 

If people recognized 'im they wouldn't talk, they'd pose before 'im; 

'e wouldn't find things out."

Now we're on to something. Far more interesting.

So anyway, I'm also completely obsessed with the British series, MI-5, aka Spooks. It's sort of like the Law & Order of the UK (actually, did you know there's a British version of L&O? Truth.). Spooks aired for 10 seasons, had no issue with knocking off main characters and deftly replaced them with new ones.

While an action series, it still addressed terrorism and intelligence in a far more compelling way than any US series (yes, Homeland, you), concentrating on terrorist acts of the bio, environmental, religious and political varieties. It also made no bones that many of these acts were "inside jobs," with intelligence forces from different countries colluding, or factions within the MI-5 and MI-6 playing each other. A contrived terrorist strike in the name of launching a war for oil? Well, duh. All in a day's work.

Spooks launched with the hunky Matthew MacFadyen, and when he left in season 3, I thought no one could replace him. Boy, was I wrong. Ladies, meet my new, favorite man on the planet, Rupert Penry-Jones. This man makes any and all James Bonds look like this guy. Let's take a look.

Hi!

As an aside, both MacFadyen and Penry-Jones have starred in Jack the Ripper-related series since their runs on Spooks: Rupert on Whitechapel and Matthew on the BBC's new Ripper Street.

I've seen Whitechapel, and while it's not Spooks, it's also not bad--finely crafted comfort TV, UK-style. However, my TiVo somehow mangled the premiere of Ripper Street, so I can't report on that just yet.

As an aside to my aside, I read From Hell last year, a compelling conspiracy as to who Jack the Ripper really was and how this horror foreshadowed the bloodbath of the 20th century. No spoiler alerts here. Read it.

But be warned: Intense doesn't begin to describe From Hell. I don't think there's another graphic novel quite like it. The story is so complex, the violence so stomach-churning, it's mind boggling how attuned every detail is to the accompanying illustrations.

OK. Back to my primary narrative. I really wanted to check out Sir Penry-Jones in a current remake of The 39 Steps. I knew I should watch the Hitchcock original, but I didn't care. Only I couldn't get the damn thing to download on blu-ray, and when I switched back to cable, guess what was on? TCM was airing the Hitchcock version. I took this as the universe telling me to watch the goddamned original. "It's Hitchcock, for God's sake!" said the universe.

  "The MAN who put MAN in roMANce..." Hee!

The crazy thing about watching early Hitchcock is it makes you realize how many cinematic techniques he originated, how we take for granted what must have seemed utterly groundbreaking back then. Because it was.

In one of the opening scenes, a woman encounters a murder and her screams dissolve into the piercing shriek of a train whistle. The main conceit in the movie centers on the hero being handcuffed to the extremely reluctant heroine--what is now the plot device of every goddamned bounty hunter movie. Because god knows I can never get enough movies about bounty hunters. Oy.

Seeing The 39 Steps provides a great segue to chatting about a book by my friend, Chaz.

 
Chaz, aka Charles Fleming, is a journalist for Los Angeles magazine, the LA Times and author of High Concept: Don Simpson and the Hollywood Culture of Excess, along with many novels. The Secret Stairs of Los Angeles maps out many walks across the city, featuring these crazy, hidden staircases. Chaz also leads his own tours of these steps. You can read more about them here.

One of the routes in his book traces a path I walk with my dog in the Hollywood Hills. Chaz's book is great because it identifies some of the really cool landmarks along these hikes. Reading it made my walk so much more interesting. Let's take a look.

Isabel did the stairs with ease.

Stunning views of the San Fernando Valley.

Walk #38, aka "Universal City--Happy Trails," included some interesting sights, including a house called "Wings," which Fleming describes as "Flintstones-meets-Jetsons."

The Wings house.

Beware.

The home of Max Ehling. The new owner is proud of it, too.

Another landmark that's tough to miss is the spectacularly mosaic-ed palace built in 1927 and designed by professional wrestler, George Ehling. Partly breathtaking, partly bananas and totally Hollywood Hills.

Two views of the secret stairs of Los Angeles.

I can't wait to explore more walks from the book. I hope to report on them in future blog posts.

So, in looking up older Hitchcock movies, I realized I've never seen this, which features a young John Gielgud and The 39 Steps star, Madeleine Carroll.

Guess what? It's based on Ashenden! We've come full circle, people. It's next to watch, fo sho. And of course, Rupert, in the remake of The 39 Steps. Let's have another look.

I'm not even going to get out of this chair.

synchronicity.

Anyone who knows me knows that I really dig Carl Jung. I recently finished Man and His Symbols, a book he wrote along with a handful of his proteges. It was meant to be less for the scholar and more for the layperson, and it's extremely readable. Also--illustrated! It's all about dream interpretation, how so many symbols in our dreams and culture are part of our collective unconscious. It was his last major work before his death.

What I dig so much about Jung is that he had an open mind toward the mystical. He applied principles of logic to explain seemingly psychic events. Like synchronicity. He came up with that one.

I had a couple synchronous happenings last week. I'd like to tell you about them.

So, Friday I had lunch at Sage and popped in at Stories in Echo Park. Unusually satisfying vegan food and buying too many books--it's becoming a habit. I picked up a copy of Stamboul Train: An Entertainment by Graham Greene.

I guess I missed the key word in the title, because when I asked the manager if he'd read it, he replied, "uh no, it's an entertainment." Oh. Well. It's still Graham Greene, so I trust it's amazing. Plus, I'm always in search of a good, literary mystery/thriller.

After reading The Power and the Glory. Definitely not an entertainment. A crazy intense book. In a nutshell, I'd say it's about the death of God in the 20th century. That sounds vague and pretentious. Let me try again.

It's the story of a "whiskey priest," a shabby little man, who suddenly find himself on the run in a Mexican state that is executing all Catholic priests. The priest is deeply flawed, a drunk and an illegitimate father of a young girl, neither a hero nor a martyr. But in his reluctant journey for survival, he becomes both. It was a difficult story to grasp at first, but harrowing and powerful (pun, sorry) by the end.

But back to my day of synchronicity. In the morning I heard Britten's Simple Symphony and the theme from Murder on the Orient Express on KUSC while driving to work.

 
I love Britten, and I was infatuated with Agatha Christie as a tween. It's an obsession that runs in the family, as my sister named her daughter "Agatha."

I have a vivid memory of reading Orient Express, because the ending blew my 12-year-old mind. I didn't even know what the author did with it was possible. Seriously, it was one of the first times a book freaked me out. Of course, I can't tell you what happened.

 
But the book doesn't have much to do with Istanbul, other than taking place on its most famous train.

So I arrive at work, and what's the first e-mail in my inbox? An excellent groupon for a trip to Istanbul. And guess what? I am going for it! When the universe throws me a little sign, I perk up my ears and whip out my credit card out. The city formerly known as Constantinople--here I come!



I've had Istanbul on the brain for a little while now, ever since I watched the film The International, over the holidays. It's not a bad little movie, an intelligent sleeper thriller with a breathtaking shootout set in the Guggenheim Museum. The film's climax takes place in Istanbul.

Clive Owen, stomping around the roofs of Istanbul.

Another fond memory I have is reading Orham Parmuk's Snow all through a blazingly hot, 100+ degree Labor Day weekend, with the air conditioner blasting and the blinds shut. I don't know if it necessarily cooled me down, but it was a great book.

And, of course, these will be must-reads for my trip.

That afternoon, I discovered 2013 is the year of the Britten Centennial. I found it out in the Telegraph, a London paper, and hoped that this wasn't a UK-only event. With some investigation (two google hits) I found out it wasn't. There are quite a few concerts happening in 2013-14 right here in L.A. The L.A. Opera is kicking it all off on February 20, with a free talk by director James Conlon. I plan to attend.
 

While beloved in the classical world, Benjamin Britten isn't exactly a household name. Like Englebert Humperdinck. And I only really delved into his music in the past few years, mostly because I heard a recording of his rarely-performed violin concerto by the British virtuoso, Daniel Hope. I also really like Janine Jansen's interpretation of this technically harrowing and emotionally exhausting work. Not for the faint of heart.

I had another experience with Britten, one that profoundly changed my life. Two years ago, I had been toying with the idea of getting a dog. I fell in love with one on the Baldwin Park Shelter's Facebook pages. I just knew she was "the one."

It was a Sunday, and I couldn't get hold of the shelter by phone. Knowing how swiftly county shelters euthanize dogs, I feared she could be gone by the end of the day. So, I jumped in my car and drove 40 miles deep into the Inland Empire. But only to check her out (wink, wink).

That Sunday happened to be one of the worst rainstorms I've experienced in my 14 years living in Los Angeles. I was on the slick, new 210 freeway, and I could barely see over the hood of my car. I really thought I needed to pull over and go back home.

But the thing that kept me going was a radio cast of Britten's opera Turn of the Screw, based on Henry James's novella. I was listening to the music and the commentary so intently, it kept me focused and calm, while I was hydroplaning like mad in this monsoon.

 photos via latimes.com

The commentator described Turn of the Screw as a "ghost story that challenges the mind." I loved this idea so much, it became the guiding principle for my own novel that I had just started and am now finishing, The Waking Eye.

And now my eyes awake to this face every morning.

Portrait of a Little Lady.

Driving home, I really wanted to give her a name from the story, but there wasn't much to choose from. The main character, the governess, is anonymous, and the only other female was the little girl, Flora. And my dog just wasn't a "Flora." So, she became "Isabel Archer," the lady in The Portrait of a Lady.

Here is a list of the events surrounding the Britten Centennial in L.A. There are lots...exciting!

Another notable anniversary this year is the centennial of Stravinsky's Rite of Spring. The Joffrey Ballet is performing it here in L.A. this February. I plan to attend.

Photo by the Joffrey Ballet

One more note on the 100-year celebrations of composers: 2012 wrapped up with the Lutoslawski Centennial, and I was fortunate enough to see Esa-Pekka Salonen's return to the L.A. Philharmonic to conduct his Symphony #1 and Fanfare for the L.A. Philharmonic, along with Beethoven's Second Symphony and one of his lesser known overtures, the King Stephen.

It's cool to watch Salonen conduct anything, but especially Lutoslawski, since he has always been such a passionate advocate of the composer/conductor. New Yorker music critic, Alex Ross, began his article on Salonen's farewell from the Phil with the first words he said to the orchestra as a baby-faced 26-year-old maestro: “I suppose that you know the Lutosławski notation.” 

As KUSC DJ Brian Lauritzen notes on his blog, Lutoslawski's actual 100th birthday was January 25. The above moment was captured on film, One Minute Maestro, and can be seen at Celebrating Salonen (click on "videos" and scroll down). He also features the mini documentary that was shown that night at the concert.