Over the years, we have enjoyed a litany of tie-in material for The X-Files, principally across the 1990s but again recently thanks to the return of Chris Carter’s iconic series.
Fans will remember Brian Lowry’s essential episode guide books back when the show aired – basic by today’s standard but a touchstone in the pre-online era of limited investigative or behind the scenes information. Ditto Jane Goldman’s two-volume Book of the Unexplained, much more of an expansive ‘coffee table tome’. Aside from the novelisation tie-ins from writers such as Charles Grant & Kevin J. Anderson, these materials expanded our knowledge and enjoyment of the television series, paving the way for the multimedia onslaught of additional material that would appear around shows and movies to come, and following in the footsteps of mega franchises such as Star Wars and Star Trek, who had already been doing it for years.
In the modern 2020s, what can resources such as this offer us? Back in the ‘90s, without access to information or images or contextualisation, such books would inform and enrich our knowledge of the movies and shows we loved. Now, everything in those books is available thanks to a cursory Google search. This forces books such as The Official Archives to be a touch more inventive in how they engage with the property they’re playing with.
Paul Terry is clearly someone who adores The X-Files and knows it well, and such enthusiasm emerges in a book that is part coffee-table resource filled with arcanum and part investigative journal, playfully adding new details and lore to The X-Files mythos.
Film criticism is a thrilling, if mercurial, business, and one which can either chew a writer up and spit them out on the other side of corporate vacuity, or lead them to stand firm against the cultural tide.
In many ways, The Press Gang exemplifies that ongoing struggle. Subtitled ‘Writings on Cinema from New York Press, 1991-2011’, the book strings together two decades worth of criticism spanning an era of cinema undergoing a long-standing, pervasive metamorphosis into a corporate mono-culture. Edited by Jim Colvill, who undertook a mission to seek out the writing of three critics who penned a brace of work for the now long defunct New York Press, the book is a snapshot of criticism during a key time, filled to the brim with detailed, often fascinating analysis on pictures as diverse as Michael Bay’s The Island through to Mohsen Makmalbaf’s A Moment of Innocence (nope, I’d never heard of it either).
This is uncompromising, often searing film writing which is not designed to simply encourage you to indulge the filmmaker or studio producing said films, but rather question their cultural, aesthetic and personal value in the world, as part of a broader societal whole.
Autism remains, to many, a complete enigma. Difficult to diagnose, even harder to treat, it serves as a misunderstood disability millions have to live with on a daily basis. This struggle is what Alan J. Hill’s A Boy Called Arsenal neatly encapsulates.
Full disclosure: I am acquainted with the author. Alan is the father of one of my wife’s best and longest friends, and indeed a friend of mine too. We have met, in person, once only (though fortunately an event beckons next year that will remedy this), and I very quickly fell into a long discussion with him about our common interests (we’re both huge film buffs, as anyone who reads this site will know me to be), not to mention Alan’s work with mental health charities. This was before, I believe, Arsenal Whittick, the protagonist of Alan’s first foray into non-fiction, came into his life, or certainly before the groundwork was laid for A Boy Called Arsenal.
Even in that discussion, however, I gained a sense of Alan’s real passion for the causes and treatment of mental health.
So it has finally happened guys… I am a published author!
Myth-Building in Modern Media: The Role of the Mytharc in Imagined Worlds is finally now available to purchase via Amazon and all good bookshops. It won’t necessarily be on all shelves but you can order online. I’ll provide links at the bottom should you wish to be very kind and purchase. The paperback isn’t cheap but the price point is a bit more agreeable via Kindle, and I recommend asking your library to stock it so then you can read it for free. If you do spend your hard earned money on this, my eternal thanks. Please do let me know what you think too, ideally via an Amazon/Goodreads rating/review, or by messaging me via this blog or my social media pages. I’d love to hear what you make of it.
Here’s the blurb once again if you remain on the fence:
In an attempt to try and tackle the onerous job of looking into the Star Trek book universe, thanks to the help of Memory Beta’s chronology section, I am intending to look at the saga in book form from stories which take place earliest in the franchise’s timeline onwards. This hopefully should provide an illuminating and unusual way of examining the extended Star Trek universe.
This story takes place 27,000 years ago…
It’s worth me making a confession before you read any further: I haven’t yet read any of Star Trek: Gateways, the 2001 book series which connected all of the Star Trek properties of that time together in a shared uber-narrative concerning the ancient Iconians and their titular gateways through time and space. Luckily, that doesn’t make Horn and Ivory too impenetrable as a story.
One of six novellas within What Lay Beyond, the Gateways conclusion, it is based on the idea that six characters from each of the collected series stepped through one of the gateways at the end of their journey in the preceding book, and these novellas chart what happened to all of them. Horn and Ivory, as a result, follows on from the Deep Space NineGateways book, Demons of Air and Darkness, also written by Keith R. A. DeCandido, and focuses squarely on the character of Kira Nerys, who finds herself in Bajoran antiquity at the heart of territorial wars between numerous nation states in the ancient history of her home planet.
It’s a credit to DeCandido’s writing that Horn and Ivory doesn’t in any way seem a baffling experience if you haven’t read any of the previous Gateways novels, his prose explaining quite clearly the basics needed to understand how Kira has ended up in the ancient past before getting on with a short story which neatly resonates with the character we know from the show and subsequent relaunch book series.
Nina Allan prefaces this re-issue of her 2011 science-fiction novel, The Silver Wind, with thoughts about material she has inserted back into the book which didn’t seem to fit the first time around, and this nicely queues you up for the kind of treat her novel turns out to be. The Silver Wind is discordant, tricky, eerie and almost entirely non-linear, all in the right ways.
Even giving a broad description of Allan’s fairly short, not much longer than a novella work, is a slippery proposition. Ostensibly the story revolves around brother and sister Martin and Dora Newland, who find themselves embroiled in the mystery of a man named Owen Andrews, a watchmaker who has found a way to control the flow of time. To say anymore feels churlish and unfair to the sweep of Allan’s book which is unusually structured in order to pay off the inter-connectivity of what are, effectively, short stories tethered together by an ever-developing thread concerning time travel.
We might as well get that one out of the way given the novel is science-fiction. Time travel is a factor.
Eagle eyed among you may have noticed my written output has been less precipitous this month as, in truth, I’ve been experiencing something of a block when it comes to my critical analysis & cultural commentary.
Remember the time that backstory was just that? Backstory.
Many of the most successful TV shows and movies are specifically built on a sense of their own mythology and world building. Game of Thrones has a series of vast novels to draw on which detail an incredibly complicated social and political eco-system, for example. Backstory, the details of the universes of these tales and the histories of many characters within the stories, provide the unseen depth and ballast to the tale we are being told, the tale we are invested in.
In recent years, however, the trend of this has begun to shift. Our biggest stories within popular culture are now becoming obsessed with backstory not just being developed to enable the narrative, they are instead *becoming* the narrative. Storytellers are actively attempting to try and ‘plug gaps’, for want of a better term, in continuity and canon, believing it seems that audiences are as obsessed with these minor details as the writers of these properties appear to be. We are losing the element of ambiguity, surprise and mystery.
We are losing backstory by exploring too much of it.
It’s been a while since I last did a little update on All Things Tony, probably because it’s been quite the month. If you weren’t aware, I get married a week today so, naturally, it’s a miracle I’ve been able to write or podcast on anything over the last couple of months, but I’ve somehow managed it!
When I’m not looking at all kinds of geeky media on this blog, I’m co-running my website Set The Tape, on which I now and then publish content. This is part of a review you can find the rest of in the link below.
Given that the Alien franchise is arguably one of the most renowned and beloved in cinema history, it comes as something as a surprise to learn there have only ever been nine tie-in novels, outside of the official movie adaptations and one anthology collection of short stories. The Cold Forge, now the tenth Alien tie-in novel, proves if anything how much of a goldmine publishers have previously missed in telling stories within the universe Ridley Scott created. Alex White’s story would make a damn fine movie in itself.
Taking a cue from the previous, successful trilogy of novels over the last few years including Out of the Shadows & River of Pain, The Cold Forge manages to cultivate its own corner of Alien’s dark, corporate, late-capitalist future by creating a uniquely Alien set-up: a research and development facility in deep space, in orbit of a burning star, with a collection of characters all with unique personalities, distinguishing traits, and several with plot-specific secrets.