Pets Win Prizes

The shortlist for the National Short Story Prize has been announced by the BBC. My story, "The Orphan and the Mob", is on it. This is rather exciting, as it is, according to the Guardian, "the world's richest short story prize". The five shortlisted stories will be broadcast on BBC Radio 4 over the next week, and then published in a small book by Grove/Atlantic.

I strongly recommend you listen to the radio version of "The Orphan and the Mob", as it has been recorded by Conor Lovett, the greatest Beckett actor of his generation, and my favourite stage actor. (And, for you uncultured oafs who spurn our glorious theatre, he was also in The Mainland episode of Father Ted.) It goes out on Radio 4, at 3.30pm, Tuesday 17th of April (2007). I'm sure it'll be streamed live, and archived later, so neither space nor time can stop you supping at the deep well of Conor Lovett's genius. (If you ever get the chance, go see him do Molloy, or even better, Molloy, Malone Dies and The Unnameable. It's just him, directed by Judy Hegarty, and it's the best thing I've ever seen in a theatre.)

This is the shortlist:

Hanif Kureishi - Weddings and Beheadings

Jackie Kay - How To Get Away with Suicide

Julian Gough - The Orphan and The Mob.

David Almond- Slog's Dad

Jonathan Falla - The Morena

The judges are Mark Lawson, Monica Ali, AS Byatt, Di Speirs of the BBC and Alex Linklater of Prospect magazine.

First prize is fifteen grand. Second is three grand.

The winner will be announced on the 23rd of April.

Holy Guacamole

Holy guacamole, is it that long since I posted? When I look at what Jesus achieved over the past week, and then at what I have achieved... well, it's humbling.

 

I have been fairly fully occupied, though, wrestling with a metaphorical octopus. Over the past few years, as I wrote Jude, I spent a lot of time thinking about the modern novel, and, more specifically, about the comic novel. I decided I should write an essay on the subject, to come out around the time Jude would be published. An apologia pro vita comedia. Well, an explanation of what the hell I'd been doing all those years. Or maybe more an explanation of the thinking behind whatever the hell it was I'd been doing...

 
So anyway, I've spent the last couple of weeks trying to boil several years of thought down into a little pot of message. And it's now finished. At one point, when the fifth draft was nine thousand words long, I had glum visions of the thirtieth draft being a million words long, but I finally tamed it. So, five thousand words on comedy and the novel coming up shortly, if that tickles your mickle. Working title: "The Sound Of One God Laughing."

 

Stay! online! for! retail! details! ... I think I know when and where it'll be published but everything is change, as Heraclitus said in disappointment after robbing the wrong bank, so I won't post the print publication date and place till I'm absolutely sure.

 

(And no, I can't publish it here, yet. Later, maybe, but for now nice men are paying my rent for the right to print it first.) 

Cover versions

Here's the latest on the cover design for Jude: Level 1. I'm copying some of this from my News section, because nobody bothers to look there. And quite rightly, because I never have any news. In fact, if you've missed my news for the past few years, here it is, summarised:

NEWS 2003: Sat in cafe, drinking coffee, writing.

NEWS 2004: Sat in cafe, drinking coffee, writing.

NEWS 2005:  This year was one of almost unimaginable change. Price of coffee in cafe went up. Size and quality went down.
Changed cafe.
Sat in new cafe, writing...

Anyway, back to the cover. The publication date for Jude: Level 1 is going to be July 2nd (2007). The cover is coming along delightfully. It's being illustrated by Dan Mogford, the guy who designed the On-U Sound website, Morcheeba's The Antidote album, and the covers of lots of books for Granta and Verso and Profile.

(Er, and none of the above look anything like the cover we're coming up with for Jude: Level 1, so none of those links will help you visualise it. I just thought you might like to see some of his other work...)

Emails full of suggestions have been whizzing around between me, Dan, and Ben, my publisher at Old Street Publishing. The last one, in Ben's characteristically polite and apologetic tones, asked if Dan could possibly add a human skeleton and a naked Charles Haughey (former Taoiseach of Ireland) to the iceberg floating in the foreground of the picture. Dan replied that this was perhaps the weirdest emailed request he had ever received.

 At which point we realised we were perhaps losing it, and backed off and let Dan get on with it.

Jean Baudrillard is dead

This blog is turning into an obituary column. Interesting.

Anyway,  Jean Baudrillard, the French explorer of hyper-reality, died yesterday (Tuesday March 6th, 2007), in Paris, France, aged 77. He'd been ill for ages.

Jean Baudrillard, like many Frenchmen, was a poet pretending to be a scientist.

There are two main theories of Baudrillard:

One is that he was a great and original thinker who described the modern world as it really is.

The other is that he was a tremendous French bullshitter, high on his own supply, using words which he failed to define, in a style that imitated science without understanding it, and whose work made no sense.

Both theories are correct. 

 Jean Baudrillard is famous for:

1) Inspiring the makers of The Matrix films. Baudrillard later said they didn't understand his ideas at all.

2) Writing the essay "The Gulf War did not take place".  (Almost all criticism of which has been written by people who have not read the original essay, thus proving quite a few of his points about the nature of reality, in an age saturated with far too much information to process. And yes, I have read it.).

 As I have no opinions or beliefs, I neither endorse nor reject him, nor any of his ideas, nor indeed any of my own comments on his ideas, as laid out above. But he was a big influence on Jude, and it's a pity he'll never read it now.

Arthur Schlesinger is dead

Well, Arthur Schlesinger, the great liberal American historian, has died. Heart attack in a restaurant at the age of 89, not a bad way to go. If you are interested, here's a proper, old-fashioned, sprawling, comprehensive, New York Times obituary.

And if you're only a little bit interested, here's a bite-sized chunk from it:

'In 1949, Mr. Schlesinger solidified his position as the spokesman for postwar liberalism with his book “The Vital Center: The Politics of Freedom.” Inspired by the Protestant theologian Reinhold Niebuhr, he argued that pragmatic, reform-minded liberalism, limited in scope, was the best that man could hope for politically.

“Problems will always torment us,” he wrote, “because all important problems are insoluble: that is why they are important. The good comes from the continuing struggle to try and solve them, not from the vain hope of their solution."'

Under the JFK administration , one of his jobs was to take Jackie Kennedy to the movies. What a great life.

Debt & Derivatives: A Prediction.

Warning: This is solid economics all the way to the end, and it's long. So, please, skip it if this kind of thing doesn't interest you.  I will totally understand.

 

Sigh. OK.  For the last week, I've been meaning to predict a global economic disaster, but never got round to it. And now there's this big 9% Chinese stock market fall today, which has jolted the US markets down 3%, so if I post now I'll look like Chicken Little, hit by an acorn and screaming "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!"

But, sheesh, I'll do it anyway.  Here's my prediction, based a little on economics and a lot on history and human nature. At some point in the next five years (but my gut feeling is much sooner, within the next two years) there will be almost simultaneous collapses in the valuations of many unrelated asset classes across much of the world.

 OK, why? Because almost every major unregulated financial innovation starts out being used for its intended purpose, gets misused by more and more mainstream financial institutions to make free money, and is pushed to grotesque excess, leading to the unexpected collapse and disgrace of often venerable institutions, followed by reform and regulation.

 The new derivatives (especially some of the credit default ones, and some of the very, very weird and complex derivatives-of-derivatives) are classic examples of this.

Step one: A great idea. You can hedge risk by buying a derivative: for example, if you own General Motors bonds, you can insure against the risk that General Motors will go bust by buying a credit default derivative for those bonds. The derivative will pay out if General Motors goes bust. Voila! You now have no risk. Ultimately, either the bonds will pay up, or the derivative will pay up. Banks also get excited, because they can shift risk off their books by packaging debt (say a bundle of mortgages) and selling it as a product. Risks can be spread more widely. This should lead to greater stability in the markets, and safer banks.  And it would, if human nature didn't lead inevitably to...

 

Step two: Misuse.  People and institutions start to get really, really interested in the derivatives themselves, and not the underlying asset, as the derivatives themselves become tradable assets. At first it's just people buying and selling derivatives they don't need. Someone with no General Motors bonds buys a credit default derivative for those bonds, because he figures it's better value than the bonds. Now debt, and risk, start to change meaning: Instead of being locked in place between a lender and a borrower, debt and the debt's risk can be moved, separated, repriced, sold, resold, shuffled, combined with something else, repackaged, renamed, rebranded, remarketed, in derivatives of derivatives of the original thing, whatever the hell that was.

 

Step three: Grotesque excess. The relationship between derivatives and the underlying assets becomes totally meaningless. The value of outstanding derivative contracts becomes massively greater than the value of all the assets on earth. Many derivatives are now pure and simple speculation (or "bets" as they used to be known.) But there is a feedback mechanism now exaggerating the situation and pushing it to its limit (and crisis). The removal of risk from the lending institutions leads to far more lending than would otherwise be the case. The removal of risk from the borrower means that companies and institutions are far more keen to borrow than they would otherwise be. Much of the lending and borrowing is to buy unanchored assets which only exist because of the extraordinary liquidity of the financial markets. Real-world debt is now an asset in high demand: therefore, there is immense pressure to supply it.

 

An example: Banks which once made their money slowly, from mortgage borrowers slowly paying back their mortgages, now make much more money, much faster, by slicing-and-dicing the mortgage debt into complex derivative products and selling it to hedge funds. So the bank's primary customer becomes the hedge fund, not the guy buying a house. The product the bank is selling has changed: it's no longer selling money to people who need money: it's selling debt, to institutions that need to buy debt. And almost any mortgage to almost any individual becomes profitable, because the supply of real world debt is the only bottleneck, in a world awash with liquidity.
 

 Step four: Unexpected collapse. The global house price bubble is largely explained by this hunger for real debt to repackage. A lot of other assets are now at silly prices because the illusion of no risk has led to vast over-lending into a limited pool of real-world assets. The consequent pumping up of real-world asset prices keeps the whole game going. But risk hasn't been eliminated: it's merely been moved around (and, I believe, mispriced).
There is also, in total, a lot more of it than there was before. A crash has become less likely, on a day-to-day basis; but it will be larger and spread across more territory and asset classes when it does.

 

By definition, an unexpected collapse will be unexpected. It's impossible to predict the trigger, and foolish to predict the timing. But if it pops, the feedback loop which pumped it up will reverse and act to deflate it. There will be a horrible drying up of liquidity, a credit crunch, and a fairly general asset crash.

 

But, to end on an up note, the underlying real-world economy is in fact in excellent nick (on its own terms, but that's a different debate). It is also, now, a system of such tremendous complexity that it is in fact quite stable. (The mathematics of large complex systems are very interesting and often counterintuitive). It will bounce back surprisingly quickly. And once derivatives and hedge funds are properly regulated, they will indeed bring greater stability to the  financial system. Until the next major innovation.

 

OK, that's it. Glad I got it off my chest. And don't worry, it's just my pet theory. I could also be quite wrong. Nobody really knows what the hell is going on in the financial markets these days. They're now just too vast and complex to model. And they involve the one factor that can totally screw up any prediction: lots and lots and lots of people, living their lives, and making their decisions, and reacting to events while creating new events in a real world that exists on a plane that transcends any theory.

 

If you made it all the way to the end of that, my God, you're a hero. Thanks for sticking with it. Buy yourself a cup of coffee. Have a biscuit too, you deserve one. 

Super-black and ultra-chunky

I agree with Roswell's comment (which was made on my last post, but over on the dirty, under-class-oriented copy of my blog at www.myspace.com/juliangough: and ain't that the postmodern condition, baby): extra-thick, super-black, ultra-chunky vinyl is the way to go. This city is practically made out of vinyl. Winos live in mounds of old Chris DeBurgh albums, while students sleep insulated under warm, fashionable cardboard duvets, stitched together from the sleeves of New Order 12-inch singles. Berlin children, when they play, not only skip, but also crackle, and rotate at 45 rpm.

Ideally, "It Makes The Sex Exciting (When There's Been A Little Fighting)" will eventually come out as a yummy, limited-edition 7", on a Japanese label so obscure the owner's mother hasn't heard of it.

Meanwhile, we might put it out for nowt on Myspace. Cuz Free is the new Paid For. Broke is the new Rich. And Old is the new Young.

Yeah, I'm surfing a wave, I'm so smooth I don't shave...

Till later, my pop children.

-Julian

Electronic, punkatonic, ultramoronic anthem...

I have just, to my own surprise, recorded a song. Very, very quickly, and most enjoyably. Melanie Houston (DJ, musician) invited me to try something with her. We met up in an improvised home studio in Brunnenstrasse. (Brief description of studio: a couple of doors laid flat on trestles, covered with black cloth, on which lay a tremendously chaotic bunch of, ah, let’s call them "vintage" Korg rhythm boxes, a keyboard with one key jammed down, and a mike with its mesh so bent in that it may have been used as a hammer, or murder weapon, all enthusiastically and incomprehensibly wired together. Everything fed down one wire into a hard drive.)

We spent ages working on a fairly traditional pop song, until we both lost the will to live and abandoned it.

Then, as so often happens after wasting ages on something that doesn’t work, we relaxed, gave up, started to play for the joy of it, and came up with something we loved. In the next thirty minutes, we wrote, rewrote, and recorded a 200 beats-per-minute, electronic, punkatonic, ultramoronic anthem that is almost certainly the first great song of the new millennium. Well, that’s what it felt like, halfway through the first take. I was on my knees, scrolling through stacks of lyrics on the MacBook, rewriting and reciting on the fly into the crunched mike, while Melanie played keyboard, avoided the stuck key, messed with the rhythm boxes and mixed the master live, all at the same time, with no way to go back, cuz it’s all on one track...

It’s called It Makes The Sex Exciting (When There’s Been A Little Fighting), and I’ll try and get it up on the site somehow, soon. Oh, and Melanie will be DJing in White Trash , Schoenhauser Allee, on February 9th, if you’re in Berlin…

Meanwhile, here’s the lyric:

...No, it's not. This is that very rare thing from me, an edit in a post. About a year after posting the above, I reworked a lot of those words into a poem that I rather like, and I want to send it to some people who frown on reading anything that's been published. Yes, I know, cheerfully slapping stuff up on your own blog isn't exactly publishing, but rather than risk confusion I thought I'd pull the lyric from my post. It's been very enjoyable, back-engineering a song into a poem. The words started off, as words do, in my notebook, with no job description (song lyric / poem / aphorism / diary entry / whatever). But, hmmm, they make a rocking poem... I'll put the poem up when all this is over... (This edit done July 29th 2008.)

Robert Anton Wilson reduced to an essence

Last entry, I recommended some books by the late Robert Anton Wilson. But who the hell has time to read books? CERTAINLY NOT ME. This is the Inter-Web-Cyber-Net, baby. We are Futuristic, Highly Stressed, and Time-Starved. Our Hair Is Falling Out. So here's the vital essence of all the books of Robert Anton Wilson, condensed, filtered, distorted and traduced through my consciousness, with added Faulty Memory Mangling:

We don't experience the world. We experience tiny, tiny hints and glimpses of incredibly limited and local aspects of the world. And even those hints are viewed down a Reality Tunnel of prejudgements (evolutionary, cultural and personal) that blocks out most of what we're potentially capable of seeing and hearing. Our Reality Tunnel tries, in particular, to block out any information that would conflict with our view of the world.

This has consequences. For example, a US, Yale-educated, Protestant, neo-conservative female politician sees a different world to the world seen by, say, an Iraqi, Karbala-educated, Shiite, conservative male cleric. They live in different realities. Their private universes are quite different. And communication between those private universes is difficult, because each has a set of unspoken assumptions that the other does not share. (Wittgenstein would say that, when they talk, they are playing different language games: many of the words they use have quite different meanings in each language game, therefore communication is not really happening. A guy is playing tennis against a guy playing golf.)

If they don’t even realise that they are not really communicating when they speak, that they are neither understanding nor being understood; well, the misunderstanding can get very messy very fast.

(Wilson would also say that all that I have written is essentially meaningless, because I'm using big abstract words ["conservative" "Protestant" “male”] that don't map onto specific things or actions in the real [objective, outside-us, difficult-to-know] world. And I'm using the "is' of identity ["He is black" "I am rich" “She is crazy”], and such statements are never true.)

Given that all beliefs are based on faulty and inadequate information, we should not give too much weight to them. In particular, we should not mess other people around, or kill them, on the basis of our beliefs.

We should question all beliefs, including our own belief in questions.

And given that we are prone to look at life through an ever-narrowing tunnel, it’s good to try to see the world through other people’s reality tunnels now and then. Read a newspaper from the other end of the political spectrum to your own. If you’re pro-life, browse a pro-choice website, and vice versa. Check out a different religion occasionally. Read some economics. Sit up a tree and pretend to be a bird. People’s (radically different) world-views work for them. There’s often something useful there, that you can use to broaden your tunnel, to see a little more of this astonishing universe.

But don’t fall in love with any world-view. Even Robert Anton Wilson’s.

Robert Anton Wilson is dead

When I finally finished writing Jude, after seven years of work, one of the first people I wanted to send it to was Robert Anton Wilson, because he had helped create the mind that wrote it. When I was a teenager, the three novels he co-authored with Robert Shea (The Illuminatus Trilogy) had changed my idea of what the novel was capable of. Later, his non-fiction books, especially Cosmic Trigger: Book 1, and Prometheus Rising, had changed my idea of what I was capable of.

I was about to send him a typescript of Jude when my friend and agent, Charlie Campbell, discovered that Wilson was terminally ill. I decided not to send it. A man busy dying does not need five hundred loose leaves of someone else's book sliding off his knees and across the room.

But I wish now I'd sent him a short note instead. I wish I’d said hello. And thank you. And goodbye.

He died on January 11th 2007.

It doesn't make sense to mourn him: his life was long, and filled with achievement on every level. His books changed lives (often for the better). He had a tremendous marriage, to Arlen (who died, I think, in 1999.) He seemed to get on great with his three surviving children. (The fourth, his wonderful daughter Luna, was murdered in the 1970s). He had a heck of a lot of friends. He was loved.

I’ll write more, on another day, about Robert Anton Wilson, and his work. There’s much, much more to be said. For today, all I want to say is something like…

Hello Robert. Thank you. Goodbye.

Testing, testing...

I'm rather enjoying setting up a website from scratch. (Yes, I know, using Squarespace's modular system is to building a website what assembling an IKEA bookcase is to carpentry. But I want the darn thing to function, and if I were to code it myself... well, you should see the toast-rack I made in woodwork class when I was 15. In fact, you can. It's currently on exhibition, as an instrument of torture, in the mediaeval section of Madame Tussaud's Chamber of Horrors, London...)

I think I'll wander off and create a News section now... Or maybe a Forum...

What larks!

Construction Site

This is eventually going to be a proper website...

...but it isn't yet. I'll be putting up content, in a lazy fashion, over the next while, when I have time. The idea is to have a fairly decent, fairly interesting website up by September 2007, when my next novel comes out. Yes, I've been saying I'll do this for years. Yes, I may well do bugger all about it, again. Call again in a few weeks and see...