Dyepot, Teapot

Over the weekend I read To Say Nothing of the Dog, by Connie Willis, which is a time travel caper that references Three Men in a Boat (to say nothing of the dog), by Jerome K. Jerome. And since the first one was fun, I picked up the second, and am now reading about Jerome & friends’ adventures on the Thames.

One of my current research interests is food eaten on expeditions (long story—maybe I’ll write about it later) so I glommed onto the references to overladen Victorian picnickers in both books. A little digging around online found this recommended menu from Mrs. Isabella Beeton’s Book of Household Management, 1861:

BILL OF FARE FOR A PICNIC FOR 40 PERSONS.

2149. A joint of cold roast beef, a joint of cold boiled beef, 2 ribs of
lamb, 2 shoulders of lamb, 4 roast fowls, 2 roast ducks, 1 ham, 1
tongue, 2 veal-and-ham pies, 2 pigeon pies, 6 medium-sized lobsters, 1
piece of collared calf’s head, 18 lettuces, 6 baskets of salad, 6
cucumbers.

2150. Stewed fruit well sweetened, and put into glass bottles well
corked; 3 or 4 dozen plain pastry biscuits to eat with the stewed fruit,
2 dozen fruit turnovers, 4 dozen cheesecakes, 2 cold cabinet puddings in
moulds, 2 blancmanges in moulds, a few jam puffs, 1 large cold
plum-pudding (this must be good), a few baskets of fresh fruit, 3 dozen
plain biscuits, a piece of cheese, 6 lbs. of butter (this, of course,
includes the butter for tea), 4 quartern loaves of household broad, 3
dozen rolls, 6 loaves of tin bread (for tea), 2 plain plum cakes, 2
pound cakes, 2 sponge cakes, a tin of mixed biscuits, 1/2 lb, of tea.
Coffee is not suitable for a picnic, being difficult to make.

Things not to be forgotten at a Picnic.

2151. A stick of horseradish, a bottle of mint-sauce well corked, a
bottle of salad dressing, a bottle of vinegar, made mustard, pepper,
salt, good oil, and pounded sugar. If it can be managed, take a little
ice. It is scarcely necessary to say that plates, tumblers,
wine-glasses, knives, forks, and spoons, must not be forgotten; as also
teacups and saucers, 3 or 4 teapots, some lump sugar, and milk, if this
last-named article cannot be obtained in the neighbourhood. Take 3
corkscrews.

2152. _Beverages_.–3 dozen quart bottles of ale, packed in hampers;
ginger-beer, soda-water, and lemonade, of each 2 dozen bottles; 6
bottles of sherry, 6 bottles of claret, champagne à discrétion, and any
other light wine that may be preferred, and 2 bottles of brandy. Water
can usually be obtained so it is useless to take it.

The section of the book directly following this is on managing one’s servants. You’re certainly going to struggle to carry that much food without some kind of help.

I definitely enjoyed it, and it was worth reading straight through for eight hours to get to the end, but ultimately I’m disappointed that it never really transcended its fluffy children’s entertainment roots. Seven books is a lot of words to put on the page without significantly improving as a writer. There were so many hints of complexity in the background that were glossed over to keep the focus on Harry’s experience. So it was an appropriate ending for the story, and it’s a more mature tale in the levels of violence (and snogging), but the storytelling didn’t really mature with it.

Also–I can think of so many other things I would have liked to hear about in that epilogue, rather than the completely predictable direction it took.

Also also–I’ve seen people complain that HP is not nearly as awesome as various other YA works (and by implication, is overrated relative to the complainer’s favorite books), particularly Phillip Pullman’s Dark Materials trilogy, but I thought those suffered the same kind of disappointing hollowness at the end. Maybe more so, because the big important thing Pullman built up to seemed awfully cheesy and over-hyped once I got to it. Whereas the big important things discovered at the end of HP were about right.

I woke up this morning lightly feverish, that feeling that says “you will be spending the day in your pajamas on the couch unable to do anything but read fiction”. So I opened up Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom, by Cory Doctorow. The thing I had always heard mentioned about this book is that it’s an interesting take on the idea of a reputation economy, the idea that all commerce is done based on what people think of you, rather than cash and capitalism.

The thing no one mentioned (so far as I’ve seen) is that the effects of the reputation economy in this book are actually kind of horrific. This seems to be a common thing that happens when you read science fiction. Yes, that book you heard about does have lots of cool tech, but it’s actually not as fun as it sounds. Which leaves me wondering whether people who go on about the shiny tech (or social and economic environment) actually read the story, or just the description on the back.

I’ve been meaning to post about Elizabeth Bear’s novel Carnival for the last week or so, because it’s really interesting and both like and not like a lot of other sf I’ve been reading, in very cool way. It involves colony worlds and government oppression and gay men and matriarchy, and this is actually not cheesy in the ways that summary will make it sound. It’s in paperback now. If you like space adventure you should get a copy.

Anyhow, she also has an essay up at Subterranean Magazine right now, and I thought it fit well with what I wrote about last night.

Dear Patriarchy:

I don’t care what you think.

I’m not here to convert you. I’m not here to enlighten you. I’m not here to try to earn your respect. I don’t need it.

I am not scared of you.

You see, I can win without you. I can make a living without you. I can reach a broad readership of women–yes, and men too! lots of men! men who are enlightened, and emotionally secure!–without you. It’s really kind of awesome. After fifteen years working in corporate America, actually, where I usually had to do what a particular type of authoritarian men wanted if I wanted to keep my job, these days, I can pick the audience I care to appeal to.

nolove, Bear.

Go read.

I haven’t spent any time on my photos since I last posted. Instead, I’ve been burying myself in several books: Idlewild, The Android’s Dream, Ender’s Game (I never got around to reading it before now), The Cassini Division, and the first 50 pages of Herzog, which is the book club assignment this month, but I’m getting the impression that it’s more style than plot, so I don’t know if I’ll try to finish it.

Work is hectic. My job has changed a fair bit from what I expected when I started, and while I enjoy project management, sometimes it makes it hard to focus on just programming. But slowly I am getting the hang of test-driven development, and the project hasn’t exploded yet.

The lack of sunlight in our office is really getting to me, too. Only one side of the suite has windows, and almost nothing filters over to the developer area even on sunny winter days like today.

I’ll try to post something more interesting soon. I had an idea the other day to talk about how my knitting process is a lot like the way I program. “Do the simplest thing that could work.”