Anansi Boys

I've taken a week off work, mostly to catch up on my reading.

So far, it's going swimmingly. Just finished Anansi Boys, by Neil Gaiman.

After his father dies in a Karaoke bar, Fat Charlie Nancy learns two things about his family: his father was actually Anansi the trickster spider god, and Charlie has a brother named Spider who inherited all the godlike powers. When Charlie finally meets his brother, Spider takes over his flat, his life and makes off with his fiancee. To get his old life back, Fat Charlie has to deal with Jamaican grandmothers, his slimy boss and ancient animal gods from the edge of the world.

It's funny. Well, it starts out funny, gets quite dark, then ends up in a mawkish sort of happy ending. I know it's a comedy, where happy endings are required. But Gaiman does have this irritating habit - he leads you into the dark places, but he always leads you out again to where everything is happy and cheerful and nice. Sometimes you just wish he'd let the darkness stick.

Still, I liked it a lot. It's a light, entertaining read. The audio book is read by Lenny Henry, which would be a treat. Some of the earlier chapters - where Gaiman struggles hard to be funny without sounding like either Terry Pratchett or Douglas Adams - really need to be read aloud to get the humour.

Right. I should go write up my Gaiman interview for Fiend.

Dutch Masters at the NGV

Saw the Dutch Masters at NGV on Saturday. It was... okay.

Lots of technically brilliant 17th Dutch paintings. The way the artists captured the folds and texture of cloth was often astonishing. But there was something missing from the paintings. Some soul. Some fire.

Maybe the whole "blockbuster exhibition" layout did the paintings a disservice. After all, these were not the grand religious paintings of the Caravaggio exhibition. These paintings were essentially decorations, designed to prettify the houses of rich Dutch merchants. They were never meant to stand up to crowds of people shuffling past them in search of greatness.

That said, one painting stood out: Rembrandt's Portrait of a White-Haired Man.

That photo does it no justice at all. In the flesh, the painting is on fire.

Rembrandt has laid down the paint in a scribbly, impressionistic texture that just makes the whole painting come alive. The blacks of the man's clothing are rich and dark and almost spiritual. The scratches and dabs of the man's face make him live in a way that the photorealism of the other paintings never even come close to.

There are three or four other Rembrandt's in the exhibition. They are all from earlier in his life, and while they have a warmth and a technique that is undeniable, even they didn't move me the way this portrait did.

Neil and Joss

TIME magazine online have put up their interview with Joss Whedon and Neil Gaiman

There's the magazine article as well, but that's less interesting.