Children of the Stones: Squaring the Circle

 "There's no way out until the stones release us..."

This penultimate episode is the most gripping yet, from start to finish. Margaret and Sandra are now "happy", and the tension is superb as Adam and Matt gradually realise this. They're now alone in an increasingly claustrophobic village. It feels as though there's nothing they can do.

The attempt to leave the village fails, of course, in beautifully surreal scenes which are a triumph of trippy and imaginative direction. And they wake in Hendricks' house, as "guests", seemingly with no escape as villagers surround the house. 

Iain Cuthbertson is magnificent here, both urbane and sinister as, at last, he verbally spars with our father and son protagonists in his avuncular way. Yet, once again, it's the mood that lingers in the mind. I begin to wonder whether what's going on will be given some kind of explanation, or whether it may in fact be better if it isn't.

I have no idea how this can possibly end. But it truly is one of the greats of children's television.

Dexter: The British Invasion

 "Confusion requires fire trucks?"

Wow. So this is how it ends. Such magnificent, exciting chaos. Yet it all feels earned in terms of the characters. And, in hindsight, Lila's bit of self-arson a few episodes back was something of a harbinger for how this would end. For Doakes, and almost for Dexter...

I sort of knew that Doakes had to die- he knew too much. What else could the writers possibly have done with him? But so early in the episode, so dramatically, and Lila reacting to the truth about Dexter by doubling down on him being her soulmate... wow. She's an extraordinary character.

And her reaction, wanting Dexter even more and intensifying her pursuit, is extraordinary- as is Dexter's realisation of what she's like- just like him, emotionally empty. Her past, interestingly, is still a mystery, but was her "addiction" to a substance at all?

But then there's her unhinged revenge side, trying to kill not only Dexter but the kids. She misses a trick, I suppose, in not just exposing Dexter to Rita and to the world, but as a climax it really works. As does Dexter's killing her, finally able to do so in accordance with his "principles".

There's other character development with Deb, too... her heart, inevitably, is broken. But she's even closer to Dexter, the two of them being, bizarrely, paragons of a healthy sibling relationship. And all is seemingly back to the status quo...

Except LaGuerta, who knows something is off. As Doakes did exactly a season ago...

Wow. Just wow. 

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Suskind

 I read this way back in the '90s and, although I remembered very little, I do recall enjoying it. I also watched (and blogged) the film adaptation about ten years ago. I remember very little of that either, but apparently my past self didn't think too much of it, deeming the novel "unfilmable".

And... well, it is. It heavily leans into the dimensions of the olfactory, a dimension denied to film, a medium that appeals solely to the eyes and ears. And the charm of the novel lies in its depictions of the human side of pre-revolutionary France, described with a deeply enjoyable wit- and that the wit come across despite this being a novel in translation is a credit to both the author and the translator.

The novel was a great favourite of songwriting genius Kurt Cobain, of course, a big reason for me initially reading it back in the day. He was fascinated by Jean-Baptiste himself, and his disdain and hatred for his fellow humans. I wasn't really; Grenouille is interesting for his olfactory abilities but I wasn't drawn to him as a character. But the character of Grenouille isn't what makes this novel enjoyable- it's the wit, the irony, the well-drawn minor characters.

This is a good novel, not a great one, perhaps just a tiny bit over-praised for its literary qualities. But it's a thoroughly readable book and perfect for reading on the train while commuting.