The Ink — January 18
The Heart in Winter, Orbital, Cien años de soledad, and more...
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Articles. Art. Music. More. The Ink is some stuff we found—or found interesting—recently.
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by Julian A.S. — Abortion law in Canada is not what most people think. In this piece, I explore the status quo, how we got here, and what it might mean for the future.
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The Cement Garden by Ian McEwan
Peter: I thumbed through my narrow bookshelf, resigned to re-reading one of the few books I have managed to tuck into the corner of my tiny bedroom, until I happened upon this thin grey volume, which my mother had lent me at some point. It’s the second McEwan I’ve read, his first novel. Sitting in my kitchen with a mug of tea and December rain falling in the courtyard, I dug into the grim tale. We follow a family of British children, two brothers and two sisters, whose insular existence in a dilapidated house descends into a lurid nightmare over the summer holidays. McEwan narrates from the twisted mind of the clammy-palmed, depressive older brother, whose confused attention-seeking behaviour and obsessive sexual desire for his sister are equal parts pathetic and chilling. The book locates its quiet horror in the threshold of adolescence, that dangerous metamorphosis from child to adult. Our narrator’s cold, quiescent existence, entombed in his resentment of others, forms a malignant chrysalis. As the outer world fades and the cocoon of family hardens around them, the children restage the familial and romantic formations of adults. At this point, a strong odor of psychoanalysis emerges that may turn off some readers; I say, ignore it. The sickly, shocking finish may whiff of 1970s Freudian erotica, but it prods us in another uncomfortable region, too; the thin membrane of our performed adulthood.
Orbital by Samantha Harvey
Julian: Six astronauts circle the earth once every ninety minutes; sixteen sunrises and sunsets every twenty-four hours. Orbital is the story of these six men and women, and unfolds over the course of just one of their sixteen days-within-a-day. Much of this book is simply descriptions of the sights, sensations, and emotions of being in space, which Harvey deftly evokes in quite stark and vivid fashion. Through these six perspectives, the novel explores what it means to be human—juxtaposed against the least human environment possible. Although set in space and dealing often with scientific subject matter, I wouldn’t call this a work of sci-fi in the conventional sense. Ultimately, Harvey’s achievement in Orbital is the prose. It’s probably the most well-written work I’ve read recently in terms of its ability to weave such a visually emotive story in words. Despite the beautiful language, my biggest gripe with this book was its length. It’s not a long work by any means, but it probably could’ve been a bit shorter. I think at novella-length, Orbital could have retained most of its strength and impact while cutting out the occasional tedium. Regardless, this novel was much lauded last year, and for good reason. It’s certainly worth a read, especially if you’re looking to pick up something refreshing.
The Heart in Winter by Kevin Barry
Peter: Not feeling a macabre incest plot this January? How about a rollicking, heart-breaking, profane, and exceedingly Irish cowboy love story? I devoured this book over the holidays. Barry holds a kaleidoscope up to the western genre and shakes it in all the right places. I loved how the West in this story is not the settled, homesteading Protestant Old America found in Hollywood, but one of immigrants, outsiders, new to the land, speaking many languages, a big old mishmash of tension and possibility. The prose is poetic, with run-on sentences, interjections, and streams of consciousness all crashing together into striking and inventive imagery. But all in service of accessible, efficient story-telling that whips you across the land like a Colorado blizzard. The book froths with sentimentality, violence, pathos, psychedelia, mysticism and awe of nature, humour, destitution. It delivers a real slice of history, but without being stuffily historical (the characters have an overwhelming predilection to “just say fuck it”). It’s the first cowboy book I’ve ever read with a magic mushroom scene. I loved it!
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Roman: I’ve written about Pecos Hank before on this newsletter. He’s a Texan stormchaser who documents his tornado seeking adventures on YouTube. Every year, he releases a recap of all the storms he chased that season – and 2024 just dropped. It’s a banger. Pecos Hank is the best.
Cien años de soledad (2024) directed by Alex García López and Laura Mora
James: Released on Netflix in December, Cien años de soledad (2024) is the first rendition on the screen of the famous Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel. The series is a beautiful reflection of the magic that has defined Marquez’s mythical town of Macondo. Over eight episodes, viewers are immersed in the founding of Macondo by the Buendía family with a plague of insomnia, forays into alchemy, forbidden love, and political violence that reflects the history of Marquez’s Colombia. Notably, Netflix built the entire set from scratch and avoided the use of special effects to do justice to the strange magical realism that is integral to the story. I really enjoyed this series (and finished it quickly!) and highly recommend it.
Julian: I’ve always thought that rainbows are one of those insane natural phenomena that we are just sorta desensitized to. Imagine if the rainbow was unknown to us, and then one suddenly appeared in the sky tomorrow. Profound awe and/or apocalyptic panic would ensue, no doubt. Recently, while gazing at one such colourful arc in the sky, I found myself wondering once again how exactly a rainbow works. I knew it had something to do with sunlight and moisture in the air—or something, I dunno—though I now know it is far more complex and interesting than that. I came across this excellent video from the science communication YouTube channel Veritasium. This video breaks down everything you ever wanted to know about rainbows (and probably more) with excellent diagrams, thorough explanations, and practical experiments to convey the complex subject in a digestible way. Fascinating. The rainbow truly is one of those synergistic things that makes our experience of the universe just that much richer.
Le Bureau des Légendes (The Bureau)
Roman: I started watching this show over the holidays. It follows an agent in the DGSE (Direction de la sécurité général de l’extérieure) – basically, the French CIA – after his return from a 6-year undercover mission in Syria. I won’t say anything more, except that what follows is genuinely thrilling, smart, and deceptive. One caveat: anytime there’s dialogue in English, it’s absolutely terrible. But hey, it’s a French show. Watch it.
Listen
James: Three Albums I Loved
The Past is Still Alive by Hurray for the Riff Raff
I found this album again late last year. I had first listened to it when it came out in February and I didn’t really enjoy it. I found it hard to listen to at first. Maybe I just wasn’t in the headspace. Come October, it was maybe my favourite album release of the year. I love “Alibi”, the first song off the album and could belt out every word if it was a karaoke bop. “Snake Plant (the Past Is Still Alive)” is another favourite. Folky, fluid, and fun, this album just makes me feel really moved as Hurray for the Riff Raff sings about change, growing up, and travelling across a country that hurts you.
Manning Fireworks by MJ Lenderman
Ok hear me out. This album was another one that when I first listened, I really didn’t like. All the way through again, Lenderman’s lyrics are funny, thoughtful, and feel good over steel guitar and ripping guitar. This album is on all the “Best albums of 2024” lists so I feel a little sheepish putting it here, but hey. I like what I like.
Natalia Lafourcade Live at Carnegie Hall by Natalia Lafourcade
Natalia Lafourcade, Natalia Lafourcade, Natalia Lafourcade. Say that three times fast. Released earlier this month, I’ve loved the gentle acoustics, really (surprisingly) good live clap-alongs for tracks like “Maria la Curandera” and the amazing vocals from Lafourcade on tracks like “Pasan los días” or “Hasta la Raíz.” She is such a talented musician, and it translates really well onto a live album.
