Dashing: 30 April v Sky Blue FC

There’s just not a lot to say about this game. The story of the night was about who wasn’t on the pitch, and not a lot of import happened on it. Sigh.

See other writeups at Midfield Press, Dynamo Theory, Keeper Notes.

Overall, the attacking skill of the Dash in the second half–especially missing Morgan Brian–bodes well for the season, but this has to be looked on as 2 points dropped by them, not 1 point gained.

#THE GOOD

  • In a word, Andressa. What a game from the midfielder. She was the subject of a ton of physical attention from Sky Blue all night, and was walking visibly stiffly by the end of the game from a long series of fouls; but she was tenacious, and controlling, and her instincts of when to turn into space and when to move the ball along are fantastic. Three(ish) shots from distance, one of which came close, and, of course, those lovely floating corner kicks.
  • Rachel Daly continues to impress with effort, with enthusiasm, and with the ability to get into good positions. Unlucky not to score.
  • When Kelley O’Hara has room to run, she is a terrifying force of nature. Easily the best player on the field for Sky Blue, and narrowly missed a free kick to steal the game at the very end.
  • Cari Roccaro made the bench, which means her hip injury must be progressing. I still foresee great things for her.
  • I thought Sarah Killion put in a good shift for Sky Blue, doing all the dirty work in midfield against a consistently strong Dash attack, especially in the second half.
  • Ah, that second half … The Dash played very well offensively, full of attacking verve and energy, and were generally unlucky not to score. Caroline Stanley is getting much of the credit, but it was as much a result of the Dash being unable to place a shot more than a foot or three to either side of her.

#THE UNGOOD

  • We all knew that Carli Lloyd was out. But, Amber Brooks missing the game for a personal event and Brian continuing to struggle with her hamstring were unexpected. I had anticipated Brian sliding into the #10 role with ease and flair. Not so much. Cami Privett did fine in Brooks’ stead, so the depth is nice, I guess.
  • Chioma Ubogagu struggled again, unable to really make an impact as the point in the attacking trident. Daly and Kealia Ohai seem to be working well together, but I’ve been far more impressed with Janine Beckie in the early going than Ubogagu.
  • This game saw Denise O’Sullivan make her debut as her international paperwork was finally sorted. She’s a thin, small woman who looks smaller than her listed height of 5’4″, and while she showed great feistiness and a nice occasional touch, she struggled to really impact the game. She could be a spark for the team, certainly, but she needs to show more than she did today.
  • Sky Blue in general was just unimpressive. It’s a team without a lot of spark, and they never showed much connection to the considerable talents of Tasha Kai up front.
  • For the first 2/3 of the game, Stanley was struggling mightily with all of her clearances: it almost felt like what happens when a catcher suddenly cannot toss the ball back to the pitcher. Punts spinning out of bounds, goal kicks barely clearing the 18, etc. Unsure if it was wind or just a momentary lapse of reason, or what. But it was noticeable.

#FAVES

Andressa, Andressa, Andressa. And, Daly’s work rate. And that the predicted deluge held off. Little else.

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Reading Well: The Black Company by Glen Cook

Since The Black Company was published in 1984, Glen Cook has come out with nine further novels surrounding the adventures of the titular band of mercenaries. This is the only one I have read to date, and I did so without knowing the novel was 30 years old.

That matters: the morally ambiguous anti-hero was much less prevalent in the 1980s than it is today, making it a more interesting read in hindsight. The book focuses on Croaker, a physician and historian with The Black Company, a centuries-old band of soldiers (and sorcerers) for hire currently in the employ of The Lady, fighting against the uprising of The Rebel with the aid of the Taken … and that sort of sums it up: this is pure fantasy pulp, full of capitalized characters and less than fully-fleshed out histories.

But it works: the pages turn, and Croaker’s companions–sullen Raven, the ever squabbling magicians One-Eye and Goblin, dependable Elmo, and the rest–are drawn with enough differentiation to keep them straight (or, you know, make them expendable). The questionable morality of The Black Company–The Lady is their employer, but is also clearly the more evil of the combatants–is dealt with fairly straightforwardly, although the groundwork is laid for the issue to come to a head in later books.

There is more than a whiff of Fafhrd & the Gray Mouser here, especially as the Company moves from setting to setting–and echoes of Fritz Leiber‘s master-series are certainly a compliment to Cook.

#WhatIWishICouldDo

Just surrender to the pulpness of it all: The Black Company is a fun voyage, and to write that freely without concern for what is missing and with such commitment to the propulsive nature of the narrative is a joyful ride.

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Reading Well: Nekropolis by Maureen McHugh

I first read Maureen McHugh via her collection of short stories, After the Apocalypse, which is highly recommended–the best stories are magnificent, the rest merely good. Nekropolis (2001) is the first novel of hers I have read (at about 250 pages, it could even be considered a long novella these days).

Set in a not-too-distant-future Morocco, Nekropolis is a story of two oppressed classes. The first are domestic workers who undergo a medical process called “jessing,” by which they become totally subservient to their masters and the second are an android race called the harni, a beautiful, sexually polymorphous, innocent machine-human hybrid.

Our heroine befriends a harni, a friendship that quickly becomes more than that and includes a possible remedy to being “jessed.”

And then … and then … and then Nekropolis changes gears entirely. And, without giving too much away, it shifts from an engaging work of speculative fiction with a nicely conceived North African setting to an exploration of what it means to be a refugee, of how possible it ever is to make a fresh start, of how the ties that bind us together in moments of struggle may loosen and fray once the destination is reached.

I loved the shift, and found Nekropolis to be a poignant, intelligent, nuanced book about identity and belonging and migration: themes that were resonant at the turn of the century when it was first published and remain so today. This is not a stunning, ground-breaking work, but that mantle is awful and heavy. It is literate and smart, and what it says is worth our attention.

#WhatIWishICouldDo

Let a story go where it needs to go. That takes courage and sensitivity and an attentive ear for the characters. It is scary as well: you risk your audience when you move away from established genre norms, and McHugh does so with confidence and grace.

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Dashing: 16 April v Chicago Red Stars

Welcome back to Dashing, an occasional series on Houston’s professional women’s soccer team. As a reminder, I try to focus more on tactical/evaluative comments than game reports. Fantastic game writeups can be found in the usual places: Dynamo Theory, KeeperNotes, etc. {A new entry, or, at least, new to me: Midfield Press.}

Last night saw the Dash open their 2016 season against the Chicago Red Stars, a team generally considered to be in the top third of the league. The result–and more than the result, the play itself–was, honestly, quite a surprise, as the Dash came away 3-1 winners in a game easily as one-sided as the score.

On to the usual stuff.

#THE GOOD

  • Amber Brooks, where have you been all my life? That’s right, in a game that saw offensive dominance by the Dash and three goals, I’m starting with the holding mids. That’s because Brooks and Andressa were absolutely fantastic throughout the game. They were pretty static in their roles: Brooks would “stay,” and the young Brazilian would “go,” and they were spectacularly efficient. Andressa’s calm and touch on the ball was on display throughout, and Brooks was a classic destroyer, breaking up play, winning second balls. This is the kind of performance that knits a game together and, potentially, a season.
  • The Dash were noticeably improved from last year in regaining and retaining possession. They aren’t employing anything like a gegenpressen philosophy, but last year the team would often disrupt the opponent only to lose the ball themselves. That did not happen nearly as often, especially on the right hand side, where Poliana, Andressa, and either Janine Beckie or Rachel Daly were able to work a lot of very effective, precise touches to hold the ball.
  • Daly had a great debut: a ton of hard work, a lovely goal, and a nice assist to Carli Lloyd for the go-ahead score. Beckie was solid as well, contributing good work on the wing, and taking her goal well.
  • Julie Johnston is pretty incredible. I don’t think this game was particularly great for her, but you could still use it as a primer on how to play centerback: always in the right position, always taking a smart angle towards the ball, attacking at times. She’s a great, great player.
  • Poliana had a good game. She was very effective on the flank, and made four or five deep runs into Red Star territory. Additionally, she is the tallest Dash defender, and dropped to a more central position quite effectively. There were some ungood moments: half her forays ran into cul-de-sacs, and all the skill on the ball doesn’t matter if she can’t get her head up for the pass.

#THE UNGOOD

  • Becca Moros was exposed for pace several times. When the challenge was tactical, when she needed to read the game, she was very good; but when it was her having to catch up to–or even stay even with–an opposing forward, she was toast. Most preseason analyses of the Dash speak of a need for a dominant centerback to partner with Ellie Brush. If Cari Roccaro recovers quickly and is unscathed by her hip surgery, she may the answer. If she doesn’t, the Dash may spend most of the year missing Toni Pressley (who I evidently held in higher regard than most).
  • The Chicago offense, which other than an opportunity gifted to Christine Press, was largely invisible.
  • Carli Lloyd. The media–at least the Houston media–has jumped on the Carli led them to victory notion, but that’s not what I saw. Lloyd rarely touched the ball and showed her usual defensive indifference. She had a good chance in the first half that didn’t come off, a couple nice moments in midfield, and she finished off Daly’s cross with skill. But it wasn’t a dominant performance, at best it was in the slightly impactful range, and that’s not good enough from Lloyd.
  • Chioma Ubogagu looked nervous and out of place in a cameo at the end of the game.
  • Morgan Brian‘s injury. That said, I wonder what the team looks like when Brian is healthy: I would hope that the defensive midfielders proved they should be there every game. So, my only guess is that she goes in for Beckie, and Lloyd becomes part of the attacking threesome. But that doesn’t sound right.

#FAVES

  • Watching Brooks and Andressa was a pleasure. The double-pivot is not easy to pull off, and can often lack dynamism, but they were fantastic.
  • The second goal was very pretty: a long pass, hard work from Daly, and a perfect header from Lloyd.
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Reading Well: Oscar & Lucinda by Peter Carey

Somehow, Oscar & Lucinda (1988) by Peter Carey got onto my radar via a fantasy-inspired recommendations. It doesn’t belong anywhere near that kind of categorization: instead, it’s a pretty straightforward historical romance, albeit one where little works out as expected for the characters involved.

The titular duo are, respectively, a flame-haired priest and a spunky female heiress. His story starts in England, but they meet in Australia, and the notion of a church totally constructed of glass figures prominently, as does a mutual affection (bordering on compulsion) for gambling.

(A note on the last: it’s not a particular insightful view of the draw of gambling, as Carey misses the draw of losing itself, although he does capture the thrill of the illicit moment, and the same it carries with for these characters, quite well.)

Carey’s strength, for me, is the way he probes the faults and foibles of his characters, creating people that are constantly mired in internal struggles that often are out of sync with their external presentations and understandings. That provides a depth of humanity that is, at times, missing in narratives so richly and deeply rooted in historical detail. It also allows the petty politics of the day to drive the characters’ actions in ways that build a nicely anxious tension that never feels forced for the period.

There are many striking and lasting images: Oscar’s overbearing father’s obsession with seaside invertebrates; his own (deeply linked) water phobia; Lucinda’s reaction to the process of glassblowing, which leads to her purchase of a glassworks; and, of course, the sparkling monstrosity of the glass church being built upon a boat as it moves slowly towards the Australian inland.

The writing is deeply literate, to the point where the only thing that saves it from accusations of being written “for book clubs” is that it predates the fad by at least a decade. For many, this will be an attractor.

It’s a good read, and was, in 1997, turned into a movie by Gillian Armstrong, starring Ralph Fiennes and Cate Blanchett in the titular roles, which I have not seen. Carey’s book is recommended if historical fiction, with some significant quirks, is your thing.

#WhatIWishICouldDo

The sort of detailed historical recreation is impressive. I find reality much trickier to recreate than fantasy, whereas he has no qualms about the stories left untold, or only referred to, or inadequately told (the most glaring here is that of the Aboriginal Australians who are encountered and, largely, slaughtered). I’m not saying he should have told the story differently, btw: the concerns and reactions of Oscar and Lucinda and the rest ring genuine for who those characters are.

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Reading Well: The Vorrh by Brian Catling

The Vorrh (2007) by Brian Catling (credited as B. Catling) is a fantastically imaginative book, but also a troubling one. The language is bright and inventive, and the characters–an unstoppable hunter, a cyclops raised by wooden robots in search of wider experience, and a massive and all-consuming forest (The Vorrh of the title) will stay with you, as will many of the smaller touches.

The troubling part is the essentially colonial structure of the narrative: the Vorrh itself is taken from Raymond Roussel‘s  Impressions of Africa (Roussel is a character in the book, as is photographer Eadweard Muybridge–whose name is spelled in many combinations throughout both the book and real life history–and, I believe, several other European artists of the late 19th/early 20th century), and the underlying skeleton of the book owes far too much to colonial tropes to be comfortable: the incomprehensibility of the natives, Africa itself as a dark mystery waiting to be seen and experienced by outside explorers, etc.

The book is engrossing and deeply creative, and deserving of the praise it has received for its originality and its emotional impact. But it also deserves critique and analysis, and a cautious reminder that the use of set and setting in fiction does indeed carry historical and political weight along with it.

It is worth reading.

#WhatIWishICouldDo

Catling is marvelously inventive with language, with descriptions that often make effective use of nouns as verbs and vice-versa, without ever seeming show-offy in doing so. I am envious of writers who are able to bend the rules of grammar successfully: it takes a confidence and a creativity with which I struggle.

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Reading Well: Under Heaven by Guy Gavriel Kay

Set in a magically-infused vision of 8th century China, Guy Gavriel Kay‘s Under Heaven (2010) straddles the line between historical fiction and fantasy. The fantastic elements are treated lightly, and the history is very compelling. The setting is the real hero of the story, with the rhythms and objects of Tang dynasty life building a deeply textured world.

The rest is fairly standard: the hero is heroic, the longing for lost love is deep, the battles are bloody, and the bad guys are brutal. There are a couple of nicely handled plot lines, where Kay makes surprising and intelligent choices in neither killing off all your favorite characters nor tying up all of the plot lines with happy endings, but the reason to read the book is more to lose yourself in a believable vision of early China.

There is a sequel of sorts, River of Stars, set a few hundred years later, but in the same setting. I have not read it.

#WhatIWishICouldDo

Historical research. Making a world historically believable (as opposed to invented) is so very hard, requiring a mixture of things and social structures both large and small in order not to jar the reader. Kay does so admirably. Note, that is not to say that his reconstruction of China is accurate, just that it is believable, which are not at all the same thing.

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Reading Well: The Peripheral by William Gibson

With The Peripheral (2014), William Gibson has returned to his wheelhouse: an incisive and disturbing vision of the near-future with engaging protagonists and sharp, snappy writing.

Whether it is the hero of the book, Flynne (reprising a steampunk role originated by Y.T. in Neal Stephenson’s Snowcrash) providing a fantastically sympathetic and engaging character or the amazing notion of a server that, when logged into, generates a new splinter in the timeline of history, or Gibson’s prescient take on the possible near-term future (a series of unrelated, but interlocked, disasters that decimate the poor while leaving the privileged largely untouched), The Peripheral delivers.

The one shortcoming for me were the initial chapters: it took a while to figure out the alternating narratives, which are also temporally displaced, but (a) that may have been due to my being initially inattentive and (b) once Gibson hits his stride, you won’t want to put it down.

Gibson remains an important voice in contemporary science fiction: it’s pulp, but it’s smart, writerly, entertaining pulp.

#WhatIWishICouldDo

Gibson is fantastic at making economical choices in his balance of dialog, characterization, and description. He creates worlds and scenes that are viscerally real with a minimum of words: scenes that I would stretch to pages he communicates in sentences.

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Reading Well: A Brief History of Seven Killings by Marlon James

You will know if you will enjoy A Brief History of Seven Killings (2014) by the end of the second chapter. The first is told by a ghost, observing those involved in his own demise; the second is in a deep Jamaican patois that dominates the rest of the many hundred pages of Marlon James‘ sprawling, ambitious novel.

For many, the patois will be too dense and off-putting. For me, those first two chapters were absolutely intoxicating, generating a momentum that carried me well into the rest of the book. I don’t know if I have read as enticing a beginning to a longer work since the opening chapter of Wolf Hall.

And this is a long work: nearly 700 pages, covering several decades of modern Jamaican history, centering on the build-up to and the fall-out from a failed attempt on the life of Bob Marley (mentioned in the book almost exclusively as The Singer). The main characters are drawn from the Jamaican underworld, and the book is often quite explicit regarding violent, sexual, and drug-related activities. It’s also (usually) successful in sketching characters that are more than caricatures, and whose activities have complex and nuanced motivations–something often missing in fiction located in these contexts.

Substituting Jamaica for Baltimore, there are strong parallels between A Brief History of Seven Killings and The Wire: memorable characters engaged in a variety of ethically compromised situations set against a context that illuminates the complex interactions between governmental, industrial, and illegal organizations as they struggle with and against each other. There are two additional forces in play here as well: international relations that surround drug and industry trade (as well as development efforts) from Jamaica to the USA (and other countries in the hemisphere) and the presence of Marley, a larger than life figure whose shadow looms in the background throughout the story.

That said, The Wire is arugably the best long-form TV series of all time; A Brief History of Seven Killings is a very good book, and perhaps even a great one.

#WhatIWishICouldDo

Have the courage to work in dialect/patois the way James does. The risks of alienating a significant portion of your audience are high, but he pulls it off, without being self conscious of it, without pandering.

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Reading Well: Daughters of the North by Sarah Hall

Daughters of the North (2007, originally published as The Carhullan Army) by Sarah Hall sits in the very thin area of overlap between literary and post-apocalyptic fiction. As such, it is a significantly higher level of craft than most of the latter category, and that certainly softens my opinion of it: there is an elegance to her writing that moves Daughters of the North well beyond “compelling page-turner.”

Hall is a writer to watch, and a write-up of her longer (and, at least from a writing perspective, “more serious”) novel, The Electric Michelangelo, should appear at some point. But I read this first.

I love her writing, which is complex, evocative, and emotionally direct, here telling an explicitly feminist story set in a Britain ravaged by war and environmental disaster. The protagonist finds her way to a camp populated by an exclusively female, armed resistance, and the book follows her struggles to survive alongside, integrate with, and ultimately take up arms alongside them.

While the ending is a bit slapdash, it’s an enjoyable read, and the setting is realized magnificently. Indeed, that is what first drew me to Hall’s writing: her ability to capture a certain geography, the bramble and gorse land that sits between England and Scotland, is quite special.

#WhatIWishICouldDo

There are writers who seem to share a surreal bond with a specific sense of place, and Hall is one: she feels utterly confident and utterly at home writing about that specific geography, filling the hills and valleys with emotional content as well as evocative description.

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