Another of the IG accounts I surf to by web from memory is collectiblesciencefiction. It’s both window shopping and memory trigger for me. I remember buying my own copy of this, on a grim early-teenage “family” “holiday” to Blackpool. It was a remaindered copy, I think, sitting on a table for fifty pence or something. This was my first exposure to Savoy Books. I know I still have my copy: I read it to death and treasured it. Just seeing this cover again sent me back to escaping into Mike Moorcock’s short fiction while smaller, crappier wars broke out around me.
There’s new archaeological analysis of environmental stresses fuelling creative thinking.
Nice piece here about writer-director Jane Arden and her film THE OTHER SIDE OF THE UNDERNEATH –
The Other Side of the Underneath features — among various other disorienting and agonising scenes — a group therapy session undertaken by women dressed in Victorian nightgowns, in which Arden herself plays a belligerent therapist. In an interview given in 2007, Natasha Morgan, one of the participating actors, remembered that everyone in the session was on LSD and Arden herself was drunk, having been steadily drinking her way through the entire production. There was also reportedly a brown bear in the next room, trying to claw its way through the wall.
I’m an admirer of her film (with Jack Bond) ANTI-CLOCK, a science fiction about memory manipulation. I own the DVD remaster of ANTI-CLOCK, which struggled to find release:
Bond contacted the Technicolor lab where the masters were stored, and found himself briefly embroiled in a Kafkaesque exchange. “You can’t have them, by order of Jack Bond,” he was told, and was then shown a letter to that effect signed by himself 25 years earlier, copies of which had been taped to every can of film. “But I am Jack Bond,” he remonstrated, only to be told: “You’ll have to prove that.”
It’s a Kafka-haunted week.