I Can't Stand the Confusion in My Mind

Yesterday was more significant than some Thursdays for Doctor Who fandom. Twitter was alight with rumours that Chris Chibnall had been fired ( for creating a female Dalek that couldn't be merchandised, according to one Youtuber!). Jodie Whitakker had resigned in sympathy but had been coaxed back/was reminded she was under contract and delivered a final,"improvised" regeneration scene. Neil Gaiman was to be the new show runner, thanks to Good Omens- the Amazon/BBC co-production and Michael Sheen was in talks to play the new Doctor. So far, so safe and predictable.

Happily, these were completely unfounded rumours born of those accounts which bemoan Social Justice Warriors and claim women ruin everything sci-fi. It's the alt-right world of Comicsgate, incels and 4chan and its tentacles are everywhere. When I bought a hardback collection of Gil Kane's 60s Captain Marvel recently, the comics shop owner commented archly "Ah, back when he used to be male!". I'm certain he knew that Carol Danvers was established as the character of Ms, Marvel  in her own right over 40 years ago. So perhaps he'd assumed I would identify with plaintive, old, "marginalised" white guys.

Eh, naw.
(art by Staz Johnson)

The other notable DW event was the publication of a delightful DWM special on Target Books. When I bought Resurrection of the Daleks in Inverness ,the sales assistant ( another old white guy) asked if I had the set, in particular 1988's Wheel in Space which, as you'll know, is a rare collectible, allegedly because of  a warehouse fire.

I certainly don't have a full set of Targets; I kept this for a trip to Lanark Loch and New Lanark, about a fortnight ago, simply because I'd enjoyed reading an Eleventh Doctor book (The Glamour Chase) last time I visited by train in 2010.

Resurrection changed the tone and style of Who and not for the better in the end.  All grit and no plot, it resembled Eric Saward's earlier fan favourites, The Visitation and Earthshock: mercenary anti-heroes, brutality, splatter and gratuitous continuity references.

The novelisation is paced like the two-part tv story: very slow exposition and then very rapid action. When not funereally black,  Saward's humour leans toward Douglas Adams-style whimsy as displayed in his  80s  Target books, The Twin Dilemma and Slipback. Here, we're told about the Tardis unseen robot chef, Ooba-Doa. I'd like to see this droid emerge from his kitchen.

There's little characterisation or internal life for the protagonists. There is ,however, an odd coda for Tegan which sees an element of the superhuman grafted on to the stroppy Australian's abrupt departure. After a Dalek mutant attack, she feels herself focused, energised and finds more self-control. It's definitely a more positive resolution for Miss Jovanka than the nervous breakdown, pop star marriage ( to Ian and Barbara' son!) and brain tumour that other spin-offs have depicted. But as Tom Baker might hiss, "What's it for?"

Despite centering on the revival of Davros and a plot to attack the Time Lords with Dalek duplicate infiltrators, Resurrection isn't a very memorable story- it's really the imagery of the set-pieces that stays with you. Saward has even changed some of the most infamous lines. Of course, I'm interested to see how he novelises Revelation of the Daleks, later this year. This was his mid-80s parody of Waugh's The Loved One, in which Colin Baker's Sixth Doctor was largely sidelined for the intrigues in a space mausoleum.

But I'm troubled that there's no new prose fiction for the current Doctor, at least until the winter. When right-wing voices say that boys won't play with Thirteen Doctor action figures (dollies!) and that boys won't read comics because they're full of racially -diverse, emasculated liberal heroes, we need  the Tardis Fam more than ever.

next time: many happy returns, Big Finish


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