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This will be a lot funnier in the year 2072.

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Despite the evidence presented by the OSHA-violating precarious tower of books on my desk, it seems like I read kind of an embarassingly small number of books this year. Of those, here are the ones that I enjoyed, in desk-stack order:

• Cat Pictures Please and Other Stories -- Naomi Kritzer
• Catfishing on CatNet + Chaos on CatNet -- Naomi Kritzer
• 35 Years of the Year's Best Science Fiction -- Gardner Dozois
• Ripe -- Sarah Rose Etter
• Nona the Ninth -- Tamsyn Muir
• Shift Happens -- Marcin Wichary
• The Dr. Phibes Companion -- Justin Humphreys
• Atomic Robo and the Vengeful Dead -- Brian Clevinger & Scott Wegener
• The Library at Mount Char -- Scott Hawkins
• Color x Color -- Chuck Sperry
• Alphonse Mucha -- Tomoko Sato
• Navola -- Paolo Bacigalupi
• WipEout: Futurism -- Michael C Place
• Glass Houses -- Madeline Ashby
• Catwoman: Lonely City -- Cliff Chiang
• Dictionnaire Infernal: Ultimate Edition - J. Collin de Plancy
• The Covid Safety Handbook -- Violet Blue
• 1984 -- George Orwell
• Julia: A Novel -- Sandra Newman
• Red Rising + Golden Son + Morning Star -- Pierce Brown
• Elusive -- Genevieve Cogman
• Voluptuous Panic: The Erotic World of Weimar Berlin -- Mel Gordon

I gave up on writing book reviews a while ago, but I have a story about 1984.

Julia is a recent re-telling of 1984 with you-know-who as the narrator. It takes the positions that A) Winston Smith is kind of a shitty person, and B) fascists are not nearly as smart as they tell you they are. Though it contains a few credulity-stretching coincidences, I enjoyed it a lot.

Before reading it, I thought I should re-read 1984, and that was a good call, because the way the plot, and even some of the dialog, line up between the two novels is well done.

Re-reading 1984 just after the 2024 presidential election probably counts as self-harm. "But I went ahead and did it just the same."

I last read 1984 when I was a teenager, but imagine my surprise when I, a book hoarder, went to my shelves and did not have a copy of it! This means that either I read it while sitting on the floor in the library stacks, or it was assigned in school and I had to give it back. So I went to bookshop.org and ordered the first copy there.

Even though it had been like a thousand years since I last read it, I still remembered every particular of the plot vividly. But the one thing that I didn't remember was, it's actually a great book! I expected it to be a constant bummer and kind of a slog, but it's actually really tightly written with interesting characters. And it goes hard.

So here's the weird part: as I'm reading it, I keep noticing all of these odd typos. Newlines where they shouldn't be. Missing paragraph breaks. An extra "f" at the end of a line for no reason. For a book that's like 80 years old, you'd think the copy-edit phase of its life would be over by now, right? So I flip to the colophon, and this book is copyright by some company in India, not by the notoriously litigious Orwell estate!

OMG, did they just pirate this shit? Are these typos trap typos, like trap streets on maps? Is this OCR slop? Julia, of course, worked in Pornosec, producing books "composed entirely by mechanical means on a special kind of kaleidoscope known as a versificator". This all felt just a little too on-the-nose, so I gave away that obviously-accursed copy of the book and ordered an ancient, yellow, dog-eared copy from eBay whose cover looked familiar.

This one smells right.

Previously.

Pirouette Machines war ziemlich bemerkenswert. War eine Künstlerin, die sich u.a. mit analogen Computern mit Wasser oder Luft beschäftigt hat.

Der Joscha-Talk war auch mal wieder schönes Hirn-Durchblasen.

Der io_uring und eBPF-Talk von Harald hat mich natürlich besonders interessiert, hatte aber nicht genug eBPF-Details für die üblichen eBPF-Hype-Jünger gerade glaube ich. Es ging aus der Sicht von Harald als Osmocom-Entwickler, und er hatte da nur relativ eingeschränkte Anwendung für eBPF. Trotzdem hochspannend und empfehlenswert, natürlich, aber wenn ihr da hingeht in der Hoffnung, danach eBPF zu können, dann werdet ihr enttäuscht werden.

Richtig geil war auch der Satelliten-Hacken-Talk. Spoiler ich mal nicht. Lohnt.

Auch Fake-Shops und Radiomining waren interessant. Ein bisschen enttäuschend fand ich Wie fliegt man eigentlich Flugzeuge. Erwartunsghaltung: Die Piloten sind vergiftet, und ich muss das Flugzeug notlanden. Welche Könpfe drücke ich? Realität: Compliance-Papierkram-Theater.

Tag 3.

Euclid war super, guckt euch das Video an. Der Open-Everything-FPGA-Talk setzte so viel voraus, dass der glaube ich nicht vielen Leuten im Publikum weitergeholfen hat. Durchaus ein cooles Thema und so, aber wenn ihr erstmal eine Einführung in FPGAs gebraucht hättet: Die kam nicht.

Beyond BLE war ähnlich cool wie der Sat-Hacking-Talk. Volle Empfehlung.

Biological evolution hat mich nicht so überzeugt. Die haben sich da ein paar Dinge überlegt, eine Simulation geschrieben, und es kam das raus, was sie gehofft hatten, nachdem sie genug dran herumgetweakt haben. Ist ja schön und die waren auch sehr enthusiastisch, aber darauf folgt halt erstmal nicht viel über die Evolution von Einzellern zu Mehrzellern.

High energy physics war ein Überblick, der mich jetzt nicht so weiter gebracht hat. Ging darum, nach was für exotischen Teilchen man da Experimente aufbaut und wonach man so guckt und wieviel Daten da so anfallen und dass das immer mehr werden. Vielleicht war ich einfach zu müden für den Talk an der Stelle :-)

Von Ultrawide arhaeology habe ich nur die letzten paar Minuten gesehen aber die waren lustig genug, dass ich mir den Rest angucken werde.

5 Jahre nach Ibiza war großartig und eindrucksvoll. Klare Empfehlung!

This is an essay in two parts.

Neuschwanstein Concept Drawing by the stage designer (!!) Christian Jank (1869).

There exist in architecture clear precedents to the McMansion that have nothing to do with suburban real estate. This is because “McMansionry” (let’s say) has many transferable properties. Among them can be included: 1) a diabolical amount of wealth that must be communicated architecturally in the most frivolous way possible, 2) a penchant for historical LARPing primarily informed by media (e.g. the American “Tuscan kitchen”) and 3) the execution of historical styles using contemporary building materials resulting in an aesthetic affect that can be described as uncanny or cheap-looking. By these metrics, we can absolutely call Neuschwanstein Castle, built by the architect Eduard Riedel for King Ludwig II of Bavaria, a McMansion.

Constructed from 1869 through 1886 – the year of Ludwig’s alleged suicide after having been ousted and declared insane – the castle cost the coffers of the Bavarian state and Ludwig himself no fewer than 6.2 million German gold marks. (That’s an estimated 47 million euros today.) The castle’s story is rife with well-known scandal. I’m sure any passing Swan Enthusiast is already familiar with Ludwig’s financial capriciousness, his called-off marriage and repressed homosexuality, his parasocial obsession with Richard Wagner, his complete and total inability to run his country, and his alleged “madness,” as they used to call it. All of these combine to make Neuschwanstein inescapable from the man who commissioned it – and the artist who inspired it. Say what you like about Ludwig and his building projects, but he is definitely remembered because of them, which is what most monarchs want. Be careful what you wish for.

Neuschwanstein gatehouse.

How should one describe Neuschwanstein architecturally? You’d need an additional blog. Its interiors alone (the subject of the next essay) range from Neo-Baroque to Neo-Byzantine to Neo-Gothic. There are many terms that can loosely define the palace’s overall style: eclecticism, medieval revivalism, historicism, chateauesque, sclerotic monarchycore, etc. However, the the most specific would be what was called “castle Romanticism” (Burgenromantik). The Germans are nothing if not literal. Whatever word you want to use, Neuschwanstein is such a Sistine Chapel of pure sentimentality and sugary kitsch that theme park architecture – most famously, Disney’s Cinderella’s castle itself – owes many of its medieval iterations to the palace’s towering silhouette.

There is some truth to the term Burgenromantik. Neuschwanstein’s exterior is a completely fabricated 19th century storybook fantasy of the Middle Ages whose precedents lie more truthfully in art for the stage. As a castle without fortification and a palace with no space for governance, Neuschwanstein’s own program is indecisive about what it should be, which makes it a pretty good reflection of Ludwig II himself. To me, however, it is the last gasp of a monarchy whose power will be totally extinguished by that same industrial modernity responsible for the materials and techniques of Neuschwanstein’s own, ironic construction.

In order to understand Neuschwanstein, however, we must go into two subjects that are equally a great time for me: 19th century medievalism - the subject of this essay - and the opera Lohengrin by Richard Wagner, the subject of the next. (1)

Part I: Medievalisms Progressive and Reactionary

The Middle Ages were inescapable in 19th century Europe. Design, music, visual art, theater, literature, and yes, architecture were all besotted with the stuff of knights and castles, old sagas, and courtly literature. From arch-conservative nationalism to pro-labor socialism, medievalism’s popularity spanned the entire political spectrum. This is because it owes its existence to a number of developments that affected the whole of society.

In Ludwig’s time, the world was changing in profound, almost inconceivable ways. The first and second industrial revolutions with their socioeconomic upheavals and new technologies of transport, manufacturing, and mass communication, all completely unmade and remade how people lived and worked. This was as true of the average person as it was of the princes and nobles who were beginning to be undermined by something called “the petit bourgeoisie.”

Sustenance farming dwindled and wage labor eclipsed all other forms of working. Millions of people no longer able to make a living on piecemeal and agricultural work flocked to the cities and into the great Molochs of factories, mills, stockyards, and mines. Families and other kinship bonds were eroded or severed by the acceleration of capitalist production, large wars, and new means of transportation, especially the railroad. People became not only alienated from each other and from their labor in the classical Marxist sense but also from the results of that labor, too. No longer were chairs made by craftsmen or clothes by the single tailor – unless you could afford the bespoke. Everything from shirtwaists to wrought iron lamps was increasingly mass produced - under wretched conditions, too. Things – including buildings – that were once built to last a lifetime became cheap, disposable, and subject to the whimsy of fashion, sold via this new thing called “the catalog.”

William Morris’ painting Le Belle Iseult (1868).

Unsurprisingly, this new way of living and working caused not a little discontent. This was the climate in which Karl Marx wrote Capital and Charles Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol. More specific to our interests, however, is a different dissenter and one of the most interesting practitioners of medievalism, the English polymath William Morris.

A lover of Arthurian legend and an admirer of the architect and design reformer John Ruskin, Morris was first trained in the office of architect G. E. Street, himself a die-hard Gothic Revivalist. From the very beginning, the Middle Ages can be found everywhere in Morris’ work, from the rough-hewn qualities of the furniture he helped design to the floral elements and compositions of the art nouveau textiles and graphics he’s most famous for – which, it should be said, are reminiscent of 15th century English tapestries. In addition to his design endeavors, Morris was also a gifted writer and poet. His was a profound love for medieval literature, especially Norse sagas from Iceland. Some of these he even translated including the Volsunga Saga – also a preoccupation of Wagner’s. Few among us earn the title of polymath, but Morris’ claim to it is undeniable. Aside from music, there really wasn’t any area of creative life he didn’t touch.

However, Morris’ predilection for the medieval was not just a personal and aesthetic fascination. It was also an expression of his political rejection of the capitalist mode of production. As one of the founders of the English Arts & Crafts Movement, Morris called for a rejection of piecemeal machine labor, a return to handicraft, and overall to things made well and made with dignity. While this was and remains a largely middle class argument, one that usually leads down the road of ethical consumption, Morris was right that capitalism’s failing of design and architecture did not just lie with the depreciated quality of goods, but the depreciated quality of life. His was the utopian call to respect both the object and the laborer who produced it. To quote from his 1888 essay called “The Revival of Architecture,” Morris dreamed of a society that “will produce to live and not live to produce, as we do.” Indeed, in our current era of AI Slop, there remains much to like about the Factory Slop-era call to take back time from the foreman’s clock and once more make labor an act of enjoyable and unalienated creativity. Only now it’s about things like writing an essay.

I bother to describe Morris at length here for a number of reasons. The first is to reiterate that medievalism’s popularity was largely a response to socioeconomic changes. Additionally, since traditionalism - in Ludwig’s time and in ours - still gets weaponized by right-wing losers, it’s worth pointing out that not all practitioners of medievalism were politically reactionary in nature. However – and I will return to this later – medievalism, reactionary or not, remains inescapably nostalgic. Morris is no exception. While a total rejection of mass produced goods may seem quixotic to us now, when Morris was working, the era before mass industrialization remained at the fringes of living memory. Hence the nostalgia is perhaps to be expected. Unfortunately for him and for us, the only way out of capitalism is through it.

To return again to the big picture: whether one liked it or not, the old feudal world was done. Only its necrotic leftovers, namely a hereditary nobility whose power would run out of road in WWI, remained. For Ludwig purposes, it was a fraught political time in Bavaria as well. Bavaria, weird duck that it was, remained relatively autonomous within the new German Reich. Despite the title of king, Ludwig, much to his chagrin - hence the pathetic Middle Ages fantasizing - did not rule absolutely. His was a constitutional monarchy, and an embattled one at that. During the building of Neuschwanstein, the king found himself wedged between the Franco-Prussian War and the political coup masterminded by Otto von Bismarck that would put Europe on the fast track to a global conflict many saw as the atavistic culmination of all that already violent modernity. No wonder he wanted to hide with his Schwans up in the hills of Schwangau.

The very notion of a unified German Reich (or an independent Kingdom of Bavaria) was itself indicative of another development. Regardless if one was liberal or conservative, a king, an artist or a shoe peddler, the 19th century was plagued by the rise of modern nationalism. Bolstered by new ideas in “medical” “science,” this was also a racialized nationalism. A lot of emotional, political, and artistic investment was put into the idea that there existed a fundamentally German volk, a German soil, a German soul. This, however, was a universalizing statement in need of a citation, with lots of political power on the line. Hence, in order to add historical credence to these new conceptions of one’s heritage, people turned to the old sources.

Within the hallowed halls of Europe’s universities, newly minted historians and philologists scoured medieval texts for traces of a people united by a common geography and ethnicity as well as the foundations for a historically continuous state. We now know that this is a problematic and incorrect way of looking at the medieval world, a world that was so very different from our own. A great deal of subsequent medieval scholarship still devotes itself to correcting for these errors. But back then, such scholarly ethics were not to be found and people did what they liked with the sources. A lot of assumptions were made in order to make whatever point one wanted, often about one’s superiority over another. Hell, anyone who’s been on Trad Guy Deus Vult Twitter knows that a lot of assumptions are still made, and for the same purposes.(2)

Meanwhile, outside of the academy, mass print media meant more people were exposed to medieval content than ever before. Translations of chivalric romances such as Wolfgang von Eschenbach’s Parzival and sagas like the Poetic Edda inspired a century’s worth of artists to incorporate these characters and themes into their work. This work was often but of course not always nationalistic in character. Such adaptations for political purposes could get very granular in nature. We all like to point to the greats like William Morris or Richard Wagner (who was really a master of a larger syncretism.) But there were many lesser attempts made by weaker artists that today have an unfortunate bootlicking je nais se quoi to them.

I love a minor tangent related to my interests, so here’s one: a good example of this nationalist granularity comes from Franz Grillparzer’s 1823 pro-Hapsburg play König Ottokars Glück und Ende, which took for its source a deep cut 14th century manuscript called the Styrian Rhyming Chronicle, written by Ottokar Aus Der Gaul. The play concerns the political intrigue around King Ottokar II of Bohemia and his subsequent 1278 defeat at the hands of Grillparzer’s very swagged out Rudolf of Habsburg. Present are some truly fascinating but extremely obscure characters from 13th Holy Roman Empire lore including a long-time personal obsession of mine, the Styrian ministerial and three-time traitor of the Great Interregnum, Frederick V of Pettau. But I’m getting off-topic here. Let’s get back to the castle.

The Throne Room at Neuschwanstein

For architecture, perhaps the most important development in spreading medievalism was this new institution called the “big public museum.” Through a professionalizing field of archaeology and the sickness that was colonialist expansion, bits and bobs of buildings were stolen from places like North Africa, Egypt, the Middle East, and Byzantium, all of which had an enormous impact on latter 19th century architecture. (They were also picked up by early 20th century American architects from H. H. Richardson to Louis Sullivan.) These orientalized fragments were further disseminated through new books, monographs, and later photography.

Meanwhile, developments in fabrication (standardized building materials), construction (namely iron, then steel) and mass production sped things up and reduced costs considerably. Soon, castles and churches in the image of those that once took decades if not a century to build were erected on countless hillsides or in little town squares across the continent. These changes in the material production of architecture are key for understanding “why Neuschwanstein castle looks so weird.”

Part of what gives medieval architecture its character is the sheer embodiment of labor embedded in all those heavy stones, stones that were chiseled, hauled, and set by hand. The Gothic cathedral was a precarious endeavor whose appearance of lightness was not earned easily, which is why, when writing about their sublimity, Edmund Burke invoked not only the play of light and shadow, but the sheer slowness and human toil involved.

This is, of course, not true of our present estate. Neuschwanstein not only eschews the role of a castle as a “fortress to be used in war” (an inherently stereotomic program) but was erected using contemporary materials and techniques that are simply not imbued with the same age or gravitas. Built via a typical brick construction but clad in more impressive sandstone, it’s all far too clean. Neuschwanstein’s proportions seem not only chaotic - towers and windows are strewn about seemingly on a whim - they are also totally irreconcilable with the castle’s alleged typology, in part because we know what a genuine medieval castle looks like.

Ludwig’s palace was a technological marvel of the industrial revolution. Not only did Neuschwanstein have indoor plumbing and central heat, it also used the largest glass windows then in manufacture. It’s not even an Iron Age building. The throne room, seen earlier in this post, required the use of structural steel. None of this is to say that 19th century construction labor was easy. It wasn’t and many people still died, including 30 at Neuschwanstein. It was, however, simply different in character than medieval labor. For all the waxing poetic about handiwork, I’m sure medieval stonemasons would have loved the use of a steam crane.

It’s true that architectural eclecticism (the use of many styles at once) has a knack for undermining the presumed authenticity or fidelity of each style employed. But this somewhat misunderstands the crime. The thing about Neuschwanstein is that its goal was not to be historically authentic at all. Its target realm was that of fantasy. Not only that, a fantasy informed primarily by a contemporary media source. In this, it could be said to be more architecturally successful.

The fantasy of medievalism is very different than the truth of the Middle Ages. As I hinted at before, more than anything else, medievalism was an inherently nostalgic movement, and not only because it was a bedrock of so much children’s literature. People loved it because it promised a bygone past that never existed. The visual and written languages of feudalism, despite it being a terrible socioeconomic system, came into vogue in part because it wasn’t capitalism. We must remember that the 19th century saw industrial capitalism at its newest and rawest. Unregulated, it destroyed every natural resource in sight and subjected people, including children, to horrific labor conditions. It still does, and will probably get worse, but the difference is, we’re somewhat used to it by now. The shock’s worn off.

All that upheaval I talked about earlier made people long for a simplicity they felt was missing. This took many different forms. The rapid advances of secular society and the incursion of science into belief made many crave a greater religiosity. At a time when the effects of wage labor on the family had made womanhood a contested territory, many appeals were made to a divine and innocent feminine a la Lady Guinevere. Urbanization made many wish for a quieter world with less hustle and bustle and better air. These sentiments are not without their reasons. Technological and socioeconomic changes still make us feel alienated and destabilized, hence why there are so many medieval revivals even in our own time. (Chappell Roan of Arc anyone?) Hell, our own rich people aren’t so different from Ludwig either. Mark Zuckerburg owns a Hawaiian island and basically controls the fates of the people who live there lord-in-the-castle-style.

Given all this, it’s not surprising that of the products of the Middle Ages, perhaps chivalric romance was and remains the most popular. While never a real depiction of medieval life (no, all those knights were not dying on the behalf of pretty ladies), such stories of good men and women and their grand adventures still capture the imaginations of children and adults alike. (You will find no greater fan of Parzival than yours truly.) It’s also no wonder the nature of the romance, with its paternalistic patriarchy, its Christianity, its sentimentality around courtly love, and most of all its depiction of the ruling class as noble and benevolent – appealed to someone like Ludwig, both as a quirked-up individual and a member of his class.

It follows, then, that any artist capable of synthesizing all these elements, fears, and desires into an aesthetically transcendent package would’ve had a great effect on such a man. One did, of course. His name was Richard Wagner.

In our next essay, we will witness one of the most astonishing cases of kitsch imitating art. But before there could be Neuschwanstein Castle, there had to be this pretty little opera called Lohengrin.

—

(1) If you want to get a head start on the Wagner stuff, I’ve been writing about the Ring cycle lately on my Substack: https://www.late-review.com/p/essays-on-wagners-ring-part-1-believing

(2) My favorite insane nationalist claim comes from the 1960s, when the Slovene-American historian Joseph Felicijan claimed that the US’s democracy was based off the 13th century ritual of enthronement practiced by the Dukes of Carinthia because Thomas Jefferson owned a copy of Jean Bodin’s Les six livres de la Republique (1576) in which the rite was mentioned. For more information, see Peter Štih’s book The Middle Ages Between the Alps and the Northern Adriatic (p. 56 for the curious.)

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This edition is a little harder given I’ve recently just completed my Reflection on 2024 mix with over 40 tracks and artists I’ve enjoyed this year. So with that in mind, I’m digging into some non-2024 stuff I’ve picked up on Bandcamp recently.

Akra - Pure (Rising Sun Melancholia - Shield Cut)

After our label event at Public Records in early December, we headed upstairs to continue the night at a second space (one of 3 rooms at the venue), where the DJ was sat in front of another lovely Devon Ojas system, comfy on a couch, spinning a bunch of classic house and 10’s. Most of it was built for the Friday night crowd- funky and danceable - but at one point, this absolute beast of a sub-bass cut through, and then a soaring atmospheric string line. My old ass started to move. I walked away not knowing what it was, but got a short 5-second video to go from. After sending it to the DJ on Instagram asking for a track ID - and after a bit of back and forth - it was finally revealed.

Funny, as my friend Hadi mentioned on my Instagram video when trying to ID the track “sounds like early Rising Sun”…. I responded… yeah it does, but I doubt it… it was a 10” and in the middle of a lot of older Chicago house-sounding stuff..

I was very glad to be in the wrong. Big love to Isaiah Collier, who was spinning this tune and did what any great DJ should do, and helped track down that track ID!

Christian Kleine - Relic Memories

As I prep another host of music from Christian Kleine’s prime era to be released on the label soon, he quietly dropped this bunch of nostalgia over on Bandcamp. As confirmed with a few other die-hard CK lovers, this is straight from the era that made many fall in love with his unique sound (and I'm kind of annoyed he didn’t send it my way first tbh ha). I have some more gems of his to come very soon, though, so don’t worry.

Jako Jako - Metamorphose

It’s the track Amygdala that blew me away from this album. Enough arps, enough analogue, enough euphoria for a perfectly sweet slice of electronics. It’s like Hania Rani’s classical sensibilities transported into a full analog system.

Citizen Maze - Northern Angelique

I have been well aware of Analog Attic Recordings for a long time now, of course through my relationship with ASIP artist Alex Albrecht. But, it often takes a while to make it through all of the releases. But after recently adding the Analog Attic catalog into rotation on 9128.live, I found myself deep in Citizen Maze’s releases - lost in some warm, dubby, trancey euphoric world. That’s a very rudimentary way to describe this music - but I’m only here to point you in the right direction, and not ruin it any more for you…

This might be the last we hear from the Citizen Maze alias, though, which is disappointing… a recent Soundcloud set text mentioned, “This mix might be the last of my mixes under Citizen Maze as I'm slowly working towards establishing my new alias and it's sound”…

Aspetuck - Early Color

As you may have already figured out, we are gearing up for a 2025 release with Aspetuck. Based in New York, Griff recently played at our Public Records label showcase, and is also a regular artist on South Korean techno label, Oslated, with several releases to date and a new album coming in the new year.

In addition to this, Griff also runs his own label alongside the Delayed crew, called Never Late. Early Color, the label’s first release, sets a very clear intention of sound and style that’s subsequently been followed by two more great releases by Mjulev and Tensen Park (also recommended).

A truly relaxing jaunt through various styles, soundtracking the brim of a beautiful horizon.

Find these albums and many more over on my Bandcamp Collection.