Stories, and more stories - Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman and Patakin by Nina Jaffe

 Fact - I am a huge fan of Neil Gaiman. Fact - I am a huge fan of the Norse myths. So when Neil came out with his retelling, I was thrilled, excited and pre-ordered his book, Norse Mythology. I waited months, and months, and months. And it arrived in February. I dove into the book with great abandon. And I was a little surprised.

 You KNOW Neil Gaiman knows his myths. Not just the Norse myths, but also the Greek myths, Japanese myths, the list could go on forever. You can see it in the layers of his graphic novels The Sandman. You can feel it in Neverwhere, and taste the Norse myths in Odd and the Frost Giants. Neil Gaiman is one of the most talented writers out there. His characters are deep, the mood is intense, even in some of his picture books (Wolves in the Walls). There is humour in his writing, great style, and knowledge.

 I was sorely disappointed in Norse Mythology. At times the writing is geared to young readers, but in the next moment it seems aimed at an older readership. He talks about poop, then says piss.The writing is choppy, in the way Oscar Wilde can be choppy - Neil Gaiman is not choppy!
Having said all this, the book is a fairly good retelling of the Norse myths, but it is not Gaiman's best writing. I ask myself if this book was edited, and if so does the editor still have a job?
Would I recommend it? Sort of. Not the hardcover. Get the paperback. If you are a huge fan of Neil Gaiman, maybe. If you have young readers or listeners who want to know more about the Norse gods, probably. Otherwise I highly recommend one of my favourite books of the Norse stories - Kevin Crossley-Holland's The Norse Myths. It has everything the Gaiman book does and more. It might not be as cute as Gaiman's, but the Norse stories are not meant to be cute. Funny in places? Yes. Cute? No. Crossley-Holland's might be a little more dry, but they are myths and the book is well written.

Another book I finished this year was originally published 2001 and written by storyteller, folklorist, and drummer Nina Jaffe: Patakin, World Tales of Drums and Drummers. (Pronounced pah-tah-KEEN, the sound of hand hitting a drum.) As a drummer this book was of great interest to me and was recommended by Tim Van Egmond for a bodhrán tale it contained. Although most of these wonderful stories are traditional I discovered the bodhrán tale from Ireland was not a traditional tale, but one created 'for the drum' by Nina and features the legendary drummer Stevie Mac! The edition I got included a CD of some of the tales (not all ten). The introduction, five tales and epilogue are well told by the author and are augmented by the percussion featured in the story, and flute and vocals. The amount of research that obviously went into this book must have been great. You know there is more that was not included, and I for one, would be interested in seeing all the notes and research that went into this wonderful little book. Drums and their stories hail from Ghana, Fiji, Korea, India, Ireland, Haiti,Venezuela, Mexico and include a tale from te Inuit people and a Jewish story. With explanatory notes, a glossary, bibliography, discography, recommended resources and publications and further reading, if you like drums and folk tales, this is a must have book! If you are, or know a music teacher who love their drums, compliment their collection of books by adding this one! A well researched, nicely illustrated collection of tales indeed.

Both of these book reviews were unsolicited.
© 2017 Simon Brooks

LIVE! And in the moment.

Practicing, circa 1980

There is something special about performing. My first exposure, like most peoples, was in the school play, or first school musical presentation, but back then I was still learning my craft, insanely nervous, or just goofing around with friends, and not in the moment. My first real taste of that something special was when I was 14 or 15 and my dad had me sit in on drums with a jazz pianist at a restaurant we were at. My parents had divorced when I was 6 and I only got to see my dad at holiday time - Christmas, Easter, the summer holidays, etc.. Of course I wanted to show Dad what I could do. He never got to hear me play.

My old 4 piece, 1960's Olympic kit
with additional hanging toms, all in the attic!
Circa 1980.

I had been playing drums since aged 11 and had got my first kit when I was 12. I played mostly rock and roll and pop, but I also played along to a few jazz l.p.'s that were in our house. I would take my record player and amp up to the attic where my blue, 1960's Olympic drum kit was housed, plug in my headphones and bash along to whatever records I took up with me. That was it, right there. At the time I had not played with another musician, unless you counted the time I played in the school band, which I really don't! So we were in this restaurant eating and my dad persuades the pianist to let me play on the drum kit which was there. I was insanely nervous and unprepared. It was not a school audience, but total strangers. I was not performing with peers and friends, but a professional pianist. I had no idea what tunes we were going to play. I think my dad knew the piano player.

Painted Bass Drum, and yes that is a cow bell for a leg!
And the drum sticks are in a Wellington boot!

The pianist asked me for a song I knew and I said, Tiger Rag. I knew this from a live recording of Louis Armstrong and had played it a number of times on my own.  It's a crazy upbeat number, lots of fun. But being jazz, the pianist either played a completely different song, or played a totally different version. Of course, it's jazz! I hung in there. The pianist played another tune and I fell into the music, lost myself to the piano. In storytelling it is called riding the elusive dragon, an image I love and think totally captures the feeling. Some people call it on-form or being on, in the game, or in the moment. It is a place of beauty and magic.

Performing live gives you a high, a buzz, a thrill. But more than that, it connects you with your audience in a way that is unique to performance. You are them, they are you. Some rock musicians say it is better than procreation. I am not sure I can say that is true with storytelling, but it is pretty darn good. This connection is almost spiritual. It connects you with people in ways unlike any other. Ask yourself how you felt after going to a great concert, or what you were feeling after hearing a professional storyteller and were moved in some way by what they were doing.

It turns out we have a similar, quite possibly less intense, experience when we have meaningful conversations. Science had proved there is a very close connection during storytelling. Storytellers and listeners have been hooked up to brain scanners to see how the brain works, and lights up. http://news.sciencemag.org/2010/07/mind-meld-enables-good-conversation Since this 2010 experiment other studies have been done with storytelling. These have shown that the listener and speaker are so in tune with one another that the brain scans show the listener almost anticipates what is going to happen. That is a truly close relationship you're having with a stranger!

Musicians can be seen doing this with each other when jamming. Playing some tune, the guitarist might change accent and rhythm slightly and the drummer and bassist are right on it. Even though it wasn't planned and completely off the cuff, the other musicians felt what was coming and went with that feeling. To the audience it might have sounded rehearsed and well practiced, but it is a spontaneous event of 'magic', if you will. Comedians doing great improv can and do experience these moments. I am sure sports folks also have this moment.

Storytelling has that connection, but instead of with a colleague on the stage, the shared moment is with the listener. Sometimes, when we do our job and the 'planets are aligned', the elusive dragon flies into the space, we jump on its back and ride with the audience, and everyone is transported. Obviously a controlled environment gives the opportunity for this more than a hot and humid room filled with over-heated children, and distracted camp councilors, but it can happen in those places at those times. Then, (under far from perfect circumstances) it is truly magical, it is a magnificent ride with the story. The colours are bright, the smells of the story are strong, and nothing else in the room, or outside the room matters. And later, after the gear is packed up and you're driving home, you know you reached people, and there is that high, buzz, thrill. Maybe you gave the audience a little more joy, maybe more understanding about the world we live in, for all its horrors and hardships. And in those mystical moments we are taken somewhere else, far away and are who we want to be, if only for a moment.

In the moment of joy, July 2015!