Spies and spirits haunt Gibson's 'Spook Country'

Spies and spirits haunt Gibson's 'Spook Country' Kevin Wood / Daily Yomiuri Staff Writer 
Spook Country
By William Gibson
G.P. Putnam's Sons
384 pp, 25.95 dollars  
Both spies and the spirits of the dead are thick on the ground in William Gibson's latest novel, Spook Country. While the novel has no literal supernatural element, its protagonists spend much of their time chasing spooks of one sort or another.
Gibson, who made his bones as a science fiction writer in the 1980s and '90s--he virtually invented the cyberpunk subgenre and famously coined the term "cyberspace"--has moved away from the genre's focus on the future, but keeps technology in the forefront in this, his ninth novel, while also weaving in some subtle satirical commentary on the post-9/11 national security state and the U.S. "cold civil war."  
Set in February 2006, the story follows an outline familiar to readers of Gibson's previous works such as Pattern Recognition and Neuromancer: A specialist is set on a quest to find some sort of mysterious technological grail unrelated to their area of expertise by shadowy, powerful figures while in a parallel plotline other shadowy figures set other specialists on a collision course.  
In Spook Country, rock-singer-turned-journalist Hollis Henry has been hired by Node, a magazine touted as "a European version of Wired, it seemed, though of course they never put it that way." The magazine may or may not actually exist, though it apparently has big money behind it.
Her assignment is to write a feature on the new field of locative art--virtual reality (VR) installations tied to particular locations via GPS coordinates. After interviewing a locative artist in Los Angeles who specializes in celebrity death scenes--a VR rendering of River Phoenix dying outside the Viper Room, a virtual shrine to Helmut Newton at the scene of his fatal crash outside the Chateau Marmont--Henry is told to track down the artist's technical advisor, a slightly paranoid GPS whiz kid who refuses to sleep in the same place twice.
The journalist is also told to pay special attention if anything involving global shipping or iPods comes up. Unsurprisingly, both the artist and his technical adviser just happen to be big fans of Henry's old band. On an unannounced visit to the techie's workspace, she catches a glimpse of a VR rendering of a shipping container that the GPS expert definitely did not mean for her to see, and the chase is on.  
Meanwhile, Gibson introduces us to Tito, a Chinese-Cuban from Havana whose entire family has relocated to United States where they have continued the family espionage business on a freelance basis. Tito has been delivering iPods full of data to an old man in New York's Washington Square and communicating with his extended family of spies in Volapuk, a Russian-based "universal language" that uses Western keyboard characters to mimic the cyrillic alphabet. He is being watched by Brown, another spy who may or may not work for the U.S. government. Brown has abducted Milgrim, a hapless Ativan junkie and Russian scholar, to translate intercepted text messages.  
Clearly, those aforementioned collision courses are full of twists and turns. Spook Country has fewer straight lines than a spilled bowl of ramen. The plot tends to be a bit baffling for the first part of the book, but when the pieces start to fit together Spook Country draws the reader in like a black hole.  
Gibson provides plenty of spooks of both sorts. In addition to the VR ghosts of the locative artists, Henry is haunted in her own mind by the memory of her former band's bassist, dead of a heroin overdose. Tito is consumed with questions about the death of his father and constantly influenced by the spirits that make up his deeply held belief in Santeria.  
On the more corporeal side of the coin are Tito's clan of clandestine operatives; the clearly-connected-but-not-necessarily-legitimate Brown, who is occasionally cartoonishly right-wing and not quite as capable as he thinks he is; and the nameless old man from Washington Square, a former senior U.S. intelligence agent with a serious hate of the neo-conservatives and war profiteers who have taken over the U.S. government and its agencies. Somewhere between the two lies the unorthodox billionaire Belgian advertising genius Hubertus Bigend, and his minions, who first appeared in Pattern Recognition.  
Gibson uses the various secret agents and operatives both to poke fun at America's obsession with security and to ask some pertinent questions about the country that has, as one character puts it, "developed Stockholm syndrome toward its own government, post 9/11." 
After ratcheting up the tension as the competing factions seek out the mysterious shipping container, Gibson's climax turns out to be more of an elaborate practical joke than an epoch-making transformation, though it is hardly a letdown.  
In addition to a familiar plot structure, Gibson also leans on some his favorite themes, including the notion of subcultures and smaller social groups serving as tribes and substitute families. Locative artists, Bigend and his employees, and fans of Henry's indie rock band are all discrete, self-sustaining phylums of humanity with their own social rules and goals. 
Henry never mentions her biological family, but her ex-bandmates behave like siblings despite their acrimonious break-up, willing to advise her, admonish her and bail her out of trouble with an axe handle as needed. 
In his early work, one of Gibson's stylistic touchstones was the use of familiar brand names for futuristic, far-fetched or ironic products he invented for the sake of the story. The future has now caught up with the futurist and left him behind. What is the use of inventing ironic or iconic brand-name gadgets in world where magnetic levitation beds exist and Adidas really does make a boot named after a German antiterrorist squad?  
As always, Gibson's greatest strengths as a writer remain his ability to conjure up realistic, gritty, urban settings and create an atmosphere from subtle changes in tone. His previously muted dry humor is more in evidence here, but his tight prose still sings like a high-tension wire and his characterization is as original and exact as ever. (The Daily Yomiuri, Aug. 18, 2007)

Cops and kids share storytime at east end school

 

By Kevin Wood, News Staff

Stoney Creek News

Dec 22, 2010

  Parents and passers-by could be forgiven for being a little concerned when they saw four police cars parked in front of Hillcrest Public School in the Oriole Crescent- Melvin Avenue neighbourhood in East Hamilton on the morning of Dec. 9.

Inside the school library, five Hamilton police officers planned their next move and checked their gear to be sure that in addition to the usual sidearms, body armor, handcuffs, batons, tasers and radios they had the special equipment needed for that morning’s assignment: Pictures books and candy canes. 

The officers of C squad at the Hamilton Police Service’s Division 2 station weren’t there to read anyone their rights, they were there to read stories to the students.

Since February 2007, subject to the need for their services elsewhere on more serious matters, police officers from the King Street East station have been coming to the school twice a month in groups of up to eight to spend some time reading to students in kindergarten through Grade 3.
Study after study has shown that reading to children at a young age helps them learn to read, but Constable Ryan Clarke says encouraging literacy is secondary; the main point of the program is to build a positive relationship with the children. Clarke organizes the reading program in cooperation with Hillcrest School l e a r n i n g  r e s o u r c e teacher Cynthia Dobrik.
The program was begun by Hillcrest principal Chuck Buttle, who has since retired, and his friend Glen Bullock, staff sergeant for C squad at Division 2. It has proved popular with both students and police officers.
“Ryan always takes the first graders, they’re his buddies,” says Dobrik, discussing class assignments with the officers before morning bell rings.
“We want them to learn that they don’t have to be in trouble to talk to a police officer, that there doesn’t have to be something bad happening for them to talk to a cop,” said Clarke.
Officers usually read to the students in their classrooms for about 20 minutes and then hold a brief question and answer session or talk to the kids about police related topics such as how and when to call 911 and how to stay safe.
Sgt. Lynda Sohal said it’s about establishing a rapport with the kids.
“It’s all about building relationships and breaking down barriers.
This gives the kids a chance to see police in a positive light,” said Sohal.
“It’s good. When you give a presentation later on, they know you and they’re comfortable with you,” said Const. Michelle Kwok.
Several of the officers mentioned having had kids they had read to at the school stop to say hello to them by name on the street.
C l a r k e acknowledges that presenting this kind of program is challenging in a higher crime area like Hamilton’s east end, where contact with the police isn’t always positive, but says that is what makes it so important and rewarding.
“We’re teaching them not to fear cops, that we’re their friends,” said Clarke.

Local photographer finds inspiration among the hopeless in Haiti

 By KEVIN WOOD, NEWS STAFF
Arts & Entertainment
Jan 12, 2011, Stoney Creek News

It is not a place anyone would choose for a pleasure trip, but Stoney Creek resident Jay Perry says his recent visit to Haiti was the best experience of his life.
The unhappy history of Haiti begins in 1492 with its discovery by Christopher Columbus and the rapid near extermination of its original inhabitants by conquering Spaniards and goes downhill from there. The island has remained mired in poverty since a slave rebellion drove the French from the island in 1804, with violent political instability interrupted only by a harsh and exploitive 17- year U.S. occupation in the early part of the 20th century and the brutal reign of terror and corruption under the Duvaliers from 1957 to 1986.
The country is by far the poorest in the Western Hemisphere.  United Nations troops, including Canadian soldiers, have been trying to keep order in the country since 2004 as it struggles to establish an effective and democratic government. In January 2010, the capital of Port-au-Prince was leveled by a massive earthquake that caused heavy damage and killed tens of thousands of people throughout the country. A subsequent ongoing cholera epidemic has killed thousands more.
Given all that, one can understand Perry’s surprise at the joy he found manifested in the people he met when he traveled to Haiti in November with a relief organization.
“We take so much for granted here that they don’t take for granted – people there are happy just to be alive, just to have their families…I saw more happy people in Haiti than I have in Canada.”
A photographer by trade, Perry, 28, had signed up with a Hamilton-based Christian missionary relief organization, The Joy and Hope of Haiti, to go to the impoverished nation and help build schools. Initially, he had no intention of even bringing his cameras with him, wanting to devote his time to helping out, but when trip organizers found out how he made his living, they convinced him to take some pictures on their behalf.
Joy and Hope of Haiti works with Starfish Kids, an evangelical Christian charity group that is part of the One Mission Society. Perry spent much of his time in Haiti visiting most of the 40 schools in which the group has a role, taking photos of the students and helping out. Starfish Kids is involved with about 40 religious schools in Haiti, paying a portion of sponsored students’ tuition and providing them with shoes, school books, and breakfast.
Perry believes a lack of education is chief among the root causes of poverty in Haiti.  He said he and his fellow Canadian aid workers were met with a mixed reaction at first. While some greeted them with smiles and waves, other shouted obscenities at them, believing that because they were Caucasian, they were with the United Nations, which many Haitians hold responsible for the cholera outbreak that began last year.
Despite such suspicion, Perry said as soon as his camera came out he was instantly the most popular person around. At all of the schools he visited, he was mobbed by children wanting to be photographed. 
“The most rewarding part was seeing the expression on the kids’ faces when I showed them their photo in the viewfinder. They absolutely loved it…After numerous school visits and showing the kids their photos, I finally asked someone why the kids got so excited to see their photo. They told me that it was probably the first time they had ever seen themselves. That they don’t own a mirror and the only image they have ever caught of them selves was a faint reflection in a dirty window. Can you imagine? Not knowing what you look like until you’re five or six?”
In some of the schools the floor was gravel and the roof was a tarp with chalkboards to separate the classes. Perry said the way the Haitians lived happily without material possessions was inspirational to him. 
“We visited this place called Happiness Alley – it’s one of the poorest places in the country and I got some of my best pictures there. The houses were just sort of put together with whatever people could find, bamboo, tarps. There was garbage everywhere.  Kids were running barefoot through the garbage and there were wild goats, pigs and dogs eating the garbage, awful smell and yet the one thing that will stick in my head forever are the smiles on the kids faces.  They had nothing. They were playing in garbage.  They were dressed in the only dirty clothes they had and somehow managed not to care. They knew no different and were just happy to be alive. It was one of the most moving experiences for me.”
Visits to the schools became impossible a few days after Perry arrived due to rioting and roving gangs angry about the cholera outbreak and blaming the UN.  Perry said they couldn’t leave their lodgings in Cap-Haiten after dark, but that he didn’t find it any scarier than downtown Hamilton. The only time he was scared was when he and his colleagues were confronted by a group carrying machetes that screamed obscenities at them believing that they were with the UN. Thankfully, their Haitian guide and a local pastor were able to talk them out of their trouble. 
As the Nov. 28 election drew closer, the riots got worse and even leaving the country became difficult.  As travel arrangements changed constantly, Perry and the rest of his contingent worked at painting a technical school with local workers until they could get a plane out of Cap-Haiten to Port-au- Prince and then to the United States. Perry said they rode in the back of a covered truck to the airport and did their best to stay out of sight as they passed cars burning on the roadside.
While he has plenty of photos that show the desperate situation in Haiti, Perry said that there is more than enough negative stories in the press about the country and he wanted to capture the smiles and kids having fun.
“The problems there are so severe compared to the life we have, but they don’t know our life, so these severe problems are just everyday life for them and somehow they find joy in it, “ said Perry.
An exhibit of some of the 1,500 photos Perry shot in Haiti will be on display for the month of February at 220, a clothing store at King and Caroline streets. and the store will also be selling limited edition Tshirts with one of his photographs on them to help raise money for Starfish Kids.  In March, Perry will be posting many of his photos on his website at www.jayperry.ca.
“It was by far the greatest experience I’ve ever had and I’d go back in a second,” said Perry, who hopes to return to Haiti someday soon with prints of his photos to distribute to the subjects.