You know, today was supposed to be the day the UltraSeven novel (also by Pat Cadigan, second in the series), delayed from June 2024, was to have been released. The owner on my LCS tells me that puiblisher after published have stopped dealing with Diamond entirely. Everything to have shipped through Diamond should still ship, but will have to be re-solicited. I was supposed to read this before the Ultraman Decker video series ships. I'll have to get on the ball.
I'm reasonably certain that the UltraSeven novel was in the B&N in the Smith Haven Mall when I bought my copy of the book I just finished. I'll doublecheck it the next time that I'm out that way.
Edgar Allan Poe, Frank Herbert, Henry James, Larry McMurtry, Marcel Proust
"Two years into his sixties, Duane Moore -- a man who had driven pickups for as long as he had been licensed to drive -- parked his pickup in his own carport one day and began to walk wherever he went."
That's the first line of Duane's Depressed, the third volume of Larry McMurtry's "Thalia" series. the dust jacket of my first edition copy says, "The final volume of The Last Picture Show/Texasville story." (Actually, he went on to write two more: When the Light Goes and Rhino Ranch.) Five years ago I decided it was time to sit down and read them all at last. (See pages 128-130 of this discussion.) I had read The Last Picture Show a couple of times, so I started with Texasville. I was in my late 50s at the time, and felt as if I were reading about my future. In Duane's Depressed, Duane's psychiatrist recommend that he read Remembrance of Things Past by Marcel Proust (Kilmartin translation), all of it, before she would see him again. (It's either three volumes or six volumes depending on which version you buy.) He set himself a goal of ten pages a day, and it took him more than a year. By that time, his psychiatrist was living in China for a year. That was the first time I got the idea I might like to read Proust" sometime.
I recently read an article about the benefits of pushing oneself to read difficult text, so I decided to push the botton and ordered the first volume (C.K. Scott Mongrieff translation), which I received yesterday. Before it arrived, I decided to refresh the "Proust" section of Duane's Depressed in my mind. the McMurty book is written in three sections, the third of which is "The Walker and Marcel Proust." I didn't read the whole thing, but I did re-read all of the sections dealing with Proust specifically.
I was in junior high school when I decided to read Edgar Allan Poe. I found it very difficult at the time, but he eventually became one of my favorite American authors. When I was in high school and decided to read "The Dune Trilogy" (which was actually four books at the time), I determined it was the most difficult thing I had ever read. When I re-read it in college a few years later (in anticipation of reading the fifth and sixth books of what by that time was called "The Dune Chronicles"), I breezed through it and couldn't understand why I thought it was so difficult. More recently, Tracy and I decided to read Henry James' The Turn of the Screw together. I don't think she finished it, but I forced myself to.
With Proust, I decided to set for myself the same goal Duame Moore did: ten pages a day. And, well... I'm ten pages in.
The Baron > Jeff of Earth-JJuly 13, 2025 at 2:13pm
(It's either three volumes or six volumes depending on which version you buy.)
I'm pretty sure that it's seven volumes long:
1 Swann's Way (1913) aka The Way by Swann's 2 In the Shadow of Young Girls in Flower (1919) aka Within a Budding Grove 3 The Guermantes Way (1920) 4 Sodom and Gomorrah (1921) aka Cities of the Plain 5 The Prisoner (1923) aka The Captive 6 The Fugitive (1925) aka Albertine Gone / The Sweet Cheat Gone 7 Time Regained (1927) aka The Past Recaptured / Finding Time Again
Also, it's over 4,200 pages long, so ten pages a day is going to take way more than a year.
As for me, I'm reading All of the Marvels, by Douglas Wolk.
ULTRAMAN: THE OFFICIAL NOVEL OF THE SERIES by Pat Cadigan: I've had this one for a while now, but moved it to the top of my list when I found out Bob recently read it. So far I've read only the first two chapters, and I'm interspersing it with other things. Each chapter (so far, anyway) is an adaptation of a TV episode, and each is just the right length to read in a single sitting. The first two chapters adapt the first two episodes of the series: "Ultra Operation #1" (with Bemular) and "Shoot the Invader" (with the Beltans). There are seven chapters in the book, but at this point I don't know whether Cadigan is going to adapt the first seven episodes in order, of just do seven select episodes.
So far, it remonds me quite a bit (in a way) of Alan Dean Foster's Star Trek: Log series, both of which flesh out half hour (minus commercials) TV scripts with additional details and embellishments. Both also add a bit of inter-episode continuity. When I read the Log series, I usually follow it up with the animated episode each episode is based on, but I haven't done that (at least not yet) with Ultraman. I don't know if I will, because part of Cadigan's adaptation is to update it with contemporary references which may cause something of a cognitive disconnect with televised and prose versions. for example, references are made to videoo blogs, streaming services, laptops, tablets, selfies and the like. One thing that is beginning to get on my nerves is that Cadigan has Hayata repeatedly think of Ultraman as his "new best friend."
I'll likely move on to Cadigan's UltraSeven novel after this. I see the original Ultraman and UltraSeven as being similar to the First and Fourth Doctors: the first and the best-known. Younger viewers my think of the Tenth Doctor and Ultraman Blazar (or whatever).
Written by mysterious Japanese YouTube star Uketsu (2022). Translated into English by Jim Rion (2025). Sold: ten kajillion copies worldwide.
I do not read Japanese. This review relies upon a translation, which may be inadequate when compared to the original. Likewise, my understanding of how the novel reflects aspects of contemporary Japanese society is limited.
And I am not really certain how to review this book. I read it in a couple of days when I was busy with other things, so it obviously engaged me. However, it lacks many of the elements that I would associate with good writing and a good novel.
Strange Pictures is as much a puzzle as a novel, consisting of a prologue and four chapters.
The prologue introduces an anonymous eleven-year-old girl and her drawings, analyzed by one of the people charged with her care. This psychologist offers one explanation for the drawing. Other interpretations will follow.
I’ve finally figured out the secret of those three drawings. I can’t imagine the kind of pain you must have been suffering. Nor can I understand the depths of whatever sin you have committed. I cannot forgive you. But even so, I will always love you.
Chapter One concerns two student members of a Paranormal Club who become fascinated with an enigmatic early-2000s blog. The blog—a credible recreation of an online artifact of that earlier e-era—presents them with a mystery. The clues take the form of the posts themselves, and five mysterious drawings. It’s clear that the blog somehow connects to the prologue, but we do not have enough evidence yet to know precisely how. The characters have been thinly-sketched and speak in expository dialogue, but the chapter creates a creepy, creeping sense of foreboding
Chapter Two features a haunted woman, who fears a mysterious pursuer, and her child, who goes missing. It comes the closest of the chapters to resembling a conventional short story. Unsurprisingly, the child leaves behind a cryptic drawing that serves as a clue. Japanese kanji also plays a role in this chapter, illustrating in a small way the difficulties of translating a work from one language and culture into another.
Chapter Three centres on the murders of two people in the same location, one of them an art teacher. Naturally, art plays a role in the clues. The chapter ends when a third person commits suicide and leaves a message taking responsibility for the murders.
Readers may have their doubts about the authenticity of the note and, at this point, will be checking their notes to see exactly how the chapters connect.
Chapter Four explains the events of the book, a dénouement that proves simultaneously straightforward (essentially, pages of exposition) and convoluted (a consequence of the complex story and problematic motives it has to explain).
The plot and characters are stylized in ways that will challenge some readers. As with many murder mysteries, we have intricately complicated murder plots and equally remarkable detective work. Characters converse in detailed explanations. And, of course, we have the novel’s central conceit: that killers and victims alike, often under highly improbable circumstances, will express themselves in cryptic drawings. Readers will vary in their response to such things.
In the end, we have a brilliant concept, executed in a fairly mundane manner, which makes for a quick and intriguing read.
Replies
You know, today was supposed to be the day the UltraSeven novel (also by Pat Cadigan, second in the series), delayed from June 2024, was to have been released. The owner on my LCS tells me that puiblisher after published have stopped dealing with Diamond entirely. Everything to have shipped through Diamond should still ship, but will have to be re-solicited. I was supposed to read this before the Ultraman Decker video series ships. I'll have to get on the ball.
I'm reasonably certain that the UltraSeven novel was in the B&N in the Smith Haven Mall when I bought my copy of the book I just finished. I'll doublecheck it the next time that I'm out that way.
WHAT!?
$#!t, it's on Amazon!
That's what I recall, but my aging brain could be failing me. I was thinking of going out that way later in the week. If I so, I'll have a look.
oh, OK. I might still go to tbe Mall anyway, though.
Edgar Allan Poe, Frank Herbert, Henry James, Larry McMurtry, Marcel Proust
"Two years into his sixties, Duane Moore -- a man who had driven pickups for as long as he had been licensed to drive -- parked his pickup in his own carport one day and began to walk wherever he went."
That's the first line of Duane's Depressed, the third volume of Larry McMurtry's "Thalia" series. the dust jacket of my first edition copy says, "The final volume of The Last Picture Show/Texasville story." (Actually, he went on to write two more: When the Light Goes and Rhino Ranch.) Five years ago I decided it was time to sit down and read them all at last. (See pages 128-130 of this discussion.) I had read The Last Picture Show a couple of times, so I started with Texasville. I was in my late 50s at the time, and felt as if I were reading about my future. In Duane's Depressed, Duane's psychiatrist recommend that he read Remembrance of Things Past by Marcel Proust (Kilmartin translation), all of it, before she would see him again. (It's either three volumes or six volumes depending on which version you buy.) He set himself a goal of ten pages a day, and it took him more than a year. By that time, his psychiatrist was living in China for a year. That was the first time I got the idea I might like to read Proust" sometime.
I recently read an article about the benefits of pushing oneself to read difficult text, so I decided to push the botton and ordered the first volume (C.K. Scott Mongrieff translation), which I received yesterday. Before it arrived, I decided to refresh the "Proust" section of Duane's Depressed in my mind. the McMurty book is written in three sections, the third of which is "The Walker and Marcel Proust." I didn't read the whole thing, but I did re-read all of the sections dealing with Proust specifically.
I was in junior high school when I decided to read Edgar Allan Poe. I found it very difficult at the time, but he eventually became one of my favorite American authors. When I was in high school and decided to read "The Dune Trilogy" (which was actually four books at the time), I determined it was the most difficult thing I had ever read. When I re-read it in college a few years later (in anticipation of reading the fifth and sixth books of what by that time was called "The Dune Chronicles"), I breezed through it and couldn't understand why I thought it was so difficult. More recently, Tracy and I decided to read Henry James' The Turn of the Screw together. I don't think she finished it, but I forced myself to.
With Proust, I decided to set for myself the same goal Duame Moore did: ten pages a day. And, well... I'm ten pages in.
(It's either three volumes or six volumes depending on which version you buy.)
I'm pretty sure that it's seven volumes long:
1 Swann's Way (1913)
aka The Way by Swann's
2 In the Shadow of Young Girls in Flower (1919)
aka Within a Budding Grove
3 The Guermantes Way (1920)
4 Sodom and Gomorrah (1921)
aka Cities of the Plain
5 The Prisoner (1923)
aka The Captive
6 The Fugitive (1925)
aka Albertine Gone / The Sweet Cheat Gone
7 Time Regained (1927)
aka The Past Recaptured / Finding Time Again
Also, it's over 4,200 pages long, so ten pages a day is going to take way more than a year.
As for me, I'm reading All of the Marvels, by Douglas Wolk.
I'm sure you're correct. It could just be the way certain publishers have divided the books into the sets I looked at online.
I seriously doubt I'll read the entire thing. If I make it through Swann's Way and want to continue, I'll likely buy one of the sets.
I read All of the Marvels when it first came out. I found the Spider-Man chapter ("Spinning in Circles") to be of particular interest.
If you're interested in my thoughts on it, I posted them to the top of page 136 of this discussion.
ULTRAMAN: THE OFFICIAL NOVEL OF THE SERIES by Pat Cadigan: I've had this one for a while now, but moved it to the top of my list when I found out Bob recently read it. So far I've read only the first two chapters, and I'm interspersing it with other things. Each chapter (so far, anyway) is an adaptation of a TV episode, and each is just the right length to read in a single sitting. The first two chapters adapt the first two episodes of the series: "Ultra Operation #1" (with Bemular) and "Shoot the Invader" (with the Beltans). There are seven chapters in the book, but at this point I don't know whether Cadigan is going to adapt the first seven episodes in order, of just do seven select episodes.
So far, it remonds me quite a bit (in a way) of Alan Dean Foster's Star Trek: Log series, both of which flesh out half hour (minus commercials) TV scripts with additional details and embellishments. Both also add a bit of inter-episode continuity. When I read the Log series, I usually follow it up with the animated episode each episode is based on, but I haven't done that (at least not yet) with Ultraman. I don't know if I will, because part of Cadigan's adaptation is to update it with contemporary references which may cause something of a cognitive disconnect with televised and prose versions. for example, references are made to videoo blogs, streaming services, laptops, tablets, selfies and the like. One thing that is beginning to get on my nerves is that Cadigan has Hayata repeatedly think of Ultraman as his "new best friend."
I'll likely move on to Cadigan's UltraSeven novel after this. I see the original Ultraman and UltraSeven as being similar to the First and Fourth Doctors: the first and the best-known. Younger viewers my think of the Tenth Doctor and Ultraman Blazar (or whatever).
Strange Pictures
Written by mysterious Japanese YouTube star Uketsu (2022).
Translated into English by Jim Rion (2025).
Sold: ten kajillion copies worldwide.
I do not read Japanese. This review relies upon a translation, which may be inadequate when compared to the original. Likewise, my understanding of how the novel reflects aspects of contemporary Japanese society is limited.
And I am not really certain how to review this book. I read it in a couple of days when I was busy with other things, so it obviously engaged me. However, it lacks many of the elements that I would associate with good writing and a good novel.
Strange Pictures is as much a puzzle as a novel, consisting of a prologue and four chapters.
The prologue introduces an anonymous eleven-year-old girl and her drawings, analyzed by one of the people charged with her care. This psychologist offers one explanation for the drawing. Other interpretations will follow.
I’ve finally figured out the secret of those three drawings.
I can’t imagine the kind of pain you must have been suffering.
Nor can I understand the depths of whatever sin you have committed.
I cannot forgive you. But even so, I will always love you.
Chapter One concerns two student members of a Paranormal Club who become fascinated with an enigmatic early-2000s blog. The blog—a credible recreation of an online artifact of that earlier e-era—presents them with a mystery. The clues take the form of the posts themselves, and five mysterious drawings. It’s clear that the blog somehow connects to the prologue, but we do not have enough evidence yet to know precisely how. The characters have been thinly-sketched and speak in expository dialogue, but the chapter creates a creepy, creeping sense of foreboding
Chapter Two features a haunted woman, who fears a mysterious pursuer, and her child, who goes missing. It comes the closest of the chapters to resembling a conventional short story. Unsurprisingly, the child leaves behind a cryptic drawing that serves as a clue. Japanese kanji also plays a role in this chapter, illustrating in a small way the difficulties of translating a work from one language and culture into another.
Chapter Three centres on the murders of two people in the same location, one of them an art teacher. Naturally, art plays a role in the clues. The chapter ends when a third person commits suicide and leaves a message taking responsibility for the murders.
Readers may have their doubts about the authenticity of the note and, at this point, will be checking their notes to see exactly how the chapters connect.
Chapter Four explains the events of the book, a dénouement that proves simultaneously straightforward (essentially, pages of exposition) and convoluted (a consequence of the complex story and problematic motives it has to explain).
The plot and characters are stylized in ways that will challenge some readers. As with many murder mysteries, we have intricately complicated murder plots and equally remarkable detective work. Characters converse in detailed explanations. And, of course, we have the novel’s central conceit: that killers and victims alike, often under highly improbable circumstances, will express themselves in cryptic drawings. Readers will vary in their response to such things.
In the end, we have a brilliant concept, executed in a fairly mundane manner, which makes for a quick and intriguing read.
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