I had an idea for a long time of wanting to do a big story centered around Preservation, the planet, or in the Preservation system, with something happening there. I would like to be able to do that. Usually, I come up with ideas and think, ‘Oh, I’ll do this book,’ and then it barely touches on that or there’s just not enough room in the book to get everything done. But that’s really something I’m hoping to do in the next book, if I can come up with a good idea.
"Fugitive Telemetry" has come to be my favorite book in the whole series, largely because it is set on the Preservation planet and is about the problems Murderbot experiences with fitting into that society. Which causes Murderbot's friends from the Preservation Aux team to come in conflict with their own society, as in the excellent scene where the head of security on Preservation, Senior Indah, has a meeting with Murderbot, Mensah and Pin Lee, who is acting as Murderbot's lawyer. During the meeting Murderbot discovers that Pin Lee is building a legal case against Indah because Pin-Lee doesn't like Indah's attitude towards Murderbot.
This was also the last time we saw Pin-Lee, one of my favorite characters in the series. Which is now three books ago in the Murderbot Universe timeline. But that's one of my gripes with the series - Wells creates these great characters and then leaves them behind to write about new characters. I mean, what happened with Ratthi and Tarik?
THE REST OF THIS BLOG POST CONTAINS SPOILERS ABOUT PLATFORM DECAY
I mentioned a few months ago that Ian Leslie does a bang-up job in his book "John and Paul a Love Story in Songs" in analyzing not only the Lennon/McCartney relationship but also their music. I wrote that Leslie "has quite a few excellent essays on lots of their songs. I will be discussing those later."
Now it's later.
Although Leslie has lots of interesting things to say about the Lennon/McCartney oeuvre, he really hits his stride with the album Revolver, particularly in his discussions of "Tomorrow Never Knows" and "Eleanor Rigby." He points out that the two songs have a lot in common:
…both John and Paul came back from their break with songs about death written from a detached omniscient perspective. In “Tomorrow Never Knows,” John dispenses instruction from the mountain top. In two minutes, "Eleanor Rigby" captures the entire lives of two individuals in a series of stark images. Musically, both songs are stripped down to a few parts in order to distill and intensify some essence.
"Eleanor Rigby" confines itself to a narrow melodic range and the song has minimal harmonic development. Like “Tomorrow Never Knows” it alternates between just two chords set in a minor key.
Still it's hard to explain "Eleanor Rigby." Nobody had created a pop song like this before. Its cultural ubiquity has stopped us from noticing how strange it is, at least as radical in its way as "Tomorrow Never Knows,” which John came up with after hearing Paul play "Eleanor Rigby."
That last part resonates with me. I blogged about Eleanor Rigby almost ten years ago now, and I also commented on how surprising it is, especially since it was written by a 24-year-old pop star.
Leslie continues:
…Paul ends each line of "Eleanor Rigby" with a little commentary or question on what has preceded it: lives in a dream; who is it for; no one comes near. Similar to the gods-eye mode of Tomorrow Never Knows.
The two songs speak to one another. In "Tomorrow Never Knows," however distant Lennon's voice sounds, the message is ultimately soothing. "Eleanor Rigby" offers no comfort. It turns an unflinching, even acerbic gaze on its characters: a woman picks up rice in a church tidying up after a wedding, oblivious to joy. She lives in a dream and wears a face that nobody sees. In the second verse we meet Father McKenzie writing his sermon for nobody. In the third and final verse, they are brought together without coming together: he buries her in a perfunctory ritual. Everything is concise. economical and devastating: no one was saved.
Around this time both John and Paul were dwelling on the decline of Christianity. In Cleave's interview, John contrasted it with the rise in popularity of The Beatles a relatively mild observation that came back to haunt him. But in "Eleanor Rigby," Paul slid a knife into the bone...
And I also liked this description of "Tomorrow Never Knows."
...The finished track feels like standing in a full-force gale as the rubble of history blows by us. Lennon's voice surfs serenely above an unearthly concatenation of noises and Ringo's stuttering, pulverising drum beat. John commands the chaos and subdues its terrors, inviting us to consider the meaning of within and to play the game to the end of the beginning, a phrase that John Winston Lennon borrowed not from (Timothy) Leary, but from Churchill, who had died the year before. What they were now calling "The Void" was by far the strangest sounding track that The Beatles or any pop group had ever recorded. There was no girl or boy, no verse or chorus, just a continuous flow that loops around toggling between two chords and fades out on the word beginning. It brought together McCartney's experiments in sound with Lennon's desire to communicate truths about the meaning of life. It blended Indian music with Stockhausen; psychedelic philosophy with English poetry and comedy...
Leslie has a similar commentary for "Strawberry Fields Forever" which I will talk about soon.
He also talks about the origin of the title "Tomrrow Never Knows:"
Lennon decided that "The Void" as a title was too heavy. During a televised press conference in 1964, Ringo had expressed the unpredictability of the group's career by saying "tomorrow never knows." In the footage you can see Lennon cracking up behind him...
The Beatles, like Shakespeare, preferred to avoid portentousness.
And thanks to YouTube, we can see exactly what Leslie is talking about:
