Website rsync Backups the Time Machine Way

Continuing my recent rash of stupid coding, after Spellcheck the Shell Way, I decided for Website rsync Backups the Time Machine Way.

For a few years now, I’ve been using a bash script I bodged together that does incremental-ish backups of my websites using the rather formidable rsync. This week I’ve been working for maschinentempel.de, helping get frohstoff.de‘s WooCommerce shop from Trabant to Hoonage. Which required repeated backing up of the entire site and database, and made me realise the shoddiness of my original backup script.

I thought, “Wouldn’t it be awesome, instead of having to make those stupid ‘backup.blah’ folders, to let the script create a time-stamped folder like Time Machine for each backup, and use the most recent backup for the rsync hard links link destination?” Fukken wouldn’t it, eh?

Creating time-stamped folders was easy. Using the most recent backup folder — which has the most recent date, and in standard list view on my Mac, the last folder in a list — was a little trickier. Especially because once a new folder was created to backup into, that previously most recent was now second to last. tail and head feels hilariously bodgy, but works? Of course it does.

Bare bones explaining: The script needs to be in a folder with another folder called ‘backups’, and a text file called ‘excludes.txt’.  Needs to be given chmod +x to make it executable, and generally can be re-bodged to work on any server you can ssh into. Much faster, more reliable, increased laziness, time-stamped server backups.

#!/bin/sh
# ---------------------------------------------------------------
# A script to manually back up your entire website
# Backup will include everything from the user directory up
# excludes.txt lists files and folders not backed up
# Subsequent backups only download changes, but each folder is a complete backup
# ---------------------------------------------------------------
# get the folder we're in
this_dir="`dirname \"$0\"`"
# set the folder in that to backup into
backup_dir="$this_dir/backups"
# cd to that folder
echo "******************"
echo "cd-ing to $backup_dir"
echo "******************"
cd "$backup_dir" || exit 1
# make a new folder with timestamp
time_stamp=$(date +%Y-%m-%d-%H%M%S)
mkdir "$backup_dir/${backuppath}supernaut-${time_stamp}"
echo "created backup folder: supernaut-${time_stamp}"
echo "******************"
# set link destination for hard links to previous backup
# this gets the last two folders (including the one just made)
# and then the first of those, which is the most recent backup
link_dest=`ls | tail -2 | head -n 1`
echo "hardlink destination: $link_dest"
echo "******************"
# set rsync backup destination to the folder we just made
backup_dest=`ls | tail -1`
echo "backup destination: $backup_dest"
echo "******************"
# run rsync to do the backup via ssh with passwordless login
rsync -avvzc --hard-links --delete --delete-excluded --progress --exclude-from="$this_dir/excludes.txt" --link-dest="$backup_dir/$link_dest" -e ssh username@supernaut.info:~/ "$backup_dir/$backup_dest"
echo "******************"
echo "Backup complete"
echo "******************"
#------------------------------------------------
# info on the backup commands:
# -a --archive archive mode; same as -rlptgoD (no -H)
# -r --recursive recurse into directories
# -l --links copy symlinks as symlinks
# -p --perms preserve permissions
# -t --times preserve times
# -g --group preserve group
# -o --owner preserve owner (super-user only)
# -D same as --devices --specials
# --devices preserve device files (super-user only)
# --specials preserve special files
# -v --verbose increase verbosity - can increment for more detail i.e. -vv -vvv
# -z --compress compress file data during the transfer
# -c --checksum skip based on checksum, not mod-time & size – SLOWER
# -H --hard-links preserve hard links
# --delete delete extraneous files from dest dirs
# --delete-excluded also delete excluded files from dest dirs
# --progress show progress during transfer
# --exclude-from=FILE read exclude patterns from FILE – one file or folder per line
# --link-dest=DIR hardlink to files in DIR when unchanged – set as previous backup
# -e --rsh=COMMAND specify the remote shell to use – SSH
# -n --dry-run show what would have been transferred

Reading: Alastair Reynolds — Revenger

What I said about Alastair Reynolds’ Slow Bullets:

i. Best title of the year.
ii. Not enough pages.

and:

… there’s a hopelessness in his work, like the heat death of the universe.

Revenger:

i. Best title of the year.
ii. Not enough pages.

Probably going to be my Book of the Year. There’d have to be something fucking exceptional to eclipse this monster of a story.

I first read Reynolds in Australia, turns out I was in Zürich when I was trying for an Iain M. Banks substitute while waiting for his next skiffy piece. Reynolds does hard sci-fi / space opera up there with the best of the current generation, but there’s something dark and frankly despairing in his work. I wasn’t being glib when I said it’s like the heat death of the universe. Humanity or who- or whatever passes for humanity in the near or distant future of his novels is like a lost child in a vast, abandoned factory at night, with the dimmest of torches on a dying battery for light. There are monsters in the blackness, and the blackness is all there is. It’s existential terror upon which his novels are written. And it’s the cheerless antipode of Banks’ Culture utopia. You don’t come out the other side going, “Woo! That was fun!”

I took a long break after Pushing Ice before giving him another whirl with Slow Bullets. Still grim as teeth being pulled but bloody masterful. Which convinced me to read his Revelation Space trilogy (now a quintet), Revelation SpaceRedemption Ark, and Absolution Gap. Go read what I wrote about all those because I’m not going to summarise here. And as uneven as those were — brilliant and uneven — I’ve nonetheless let Reynolds into my exclusive world of Authors I Will Always Read. Magnanimous I am, for sure.

Which brings me to Revenger. Still the best title. He fucking murders titles. He’s probably got a list of them and periodically pulls it out and reads them, and is all, “Yes, I am God.” He could do an exhibition of just paintings of titles and people would bleed out under their awesome majesty.

The weird thing is this is marketed in that well dodgy category of Young Adult. You know, the one filled with dystopian futures for the last decade. I’m not sure whose idea that was, because Revenger is a slaughterhouse. Here’s a crew we’ve come to enjoy the company of on a small interplanetary pirate-y type ship. Here’s them getting massacred. Here’s a story of two girls who run away from their Little Prince-sized planet with a black hole at the core to have adventures and save the family from ruin. Here’s the younger cutting off her own hand and replacing it with an ancient and cryptic metal one. And I know I’m slow on the uptake, but when Reynolds revealed what she was writing her story on and with: it’s called Revenger for a reason.

Though it is neither the ironic violence of the Starship Troopers kind, nor the morally vacuous Marvel/DC superhero movie kind. As much as I love a tasty morsel of well-written violence, it needs purpose and justification. This is one of the two things I can rely on Reynolds for: he’s serious in the morality of use of force. His characters are changed by using it, often cut off on some existential level from the rest of humanity. He seldom reaches for it, so when he does it carries a far weightier brutality than if it were merely the full stop on every sentence.

The other is his commitment to a universe bound by the laws of physics as we know them. No faster than light travel (except for Slow Bullets), even if other technology is as incomprehensible as tools of the gods. There’s a whole battered solar system of that here, spanning successive waves of technological progress and decline. He builds a formidable world up in it, and could easily write a series of the scope of Revelation Space here. I’d read the shit out of it.

And it also inspired me to write a shell script to help with spellchecking.

Alastair Reynolds — Revenger
Alastair Reynolds — Revenger

Reading: Steph Swainston — Fair Rebel

Late-2015, for vague reasons I couldn’t plumb, I threw myself into Steph Swainston’s massive The Castle Omnibus. Three books in one. Was most impressive. One of those rare stories and worlds which keep churning in the background of my thoughts, like you know a second reading will be rich with detail you’d forgotten or not even noticed the first time.

And at that time she’d retired from writing to be a chemistry teacher, so besides Above the Snowline (which I’m currently reading), that was to be the entirety of her literary brilliance. Lucky for me she found an arrangement between the demands of publishers and fans, and her need to write, and returned with an absolute slammer of a novel.

Or maybe she just wanted to smash down the world she’d created. Or maybe she needed to do that to open it to the possibilities of these worlds. For whatever reason, she annihilates people and buildings with methodical, dispassionate relentlessness throughout the Fourlands and not stopping at the Castle itself. Immortals are sloughed off; art, industry, culture, history burned and razed; and not the minor cast either. She goes straight for the leads who have filled her previous four novels. It’s gloriously brutal and tragic.

I’ve been quietly raving about Swainston to my friends, but don’t really know how to describe her. Sometimes it’s like William Burroughs’ The Naked Lunch; other times like ancient Greek literature. There’s a logic in the many worlds like some science-fiction yet there’s obviously a lineage with Western European fantasy, but to say, “If you liked Lord of the Rings, you’ll love this” is entirely what it isn’t. Sometimes it’s like a deranged and drug-addled version of Poldark. I was looking through writers to go, “It’s like them,” and usually I can get close, but with Swainston … maybe a bit of Sophie Samatar or Jo Walton’s The Just City trilogy, but really all three are so different.

I’m not sure if reading Fair Rebel without The Castle Omnibus would be so satisfying — or such a punch in the face — but this is the kind of series you’re either all in for or don’t make it through the first chapter. Obviously I’m all in.

Steph Swainston — Fair Rebel
Steph Swainston — Fair Rebel

New Tires!

Aside

New Tires! I coughed up for some Challenge Strada Biancas ’cos I’m riding more cobbles and less cyclocross lately. Plus my current gravel tires are thrashed to bits. They arrived folded up; I thought they were open tubulars they’re so light. I really wanted the Paris-Roubaix ones, because Paris-Roubaix, but they’re 27mm and I like a bit of width for off-road bashing. So, Strada Bianca. Giro d’Italia, Strade Bianche, these are my favourite races along with the Cobbled Classics. Which start in less than a week!

Spellcheck the Shell Way

I was reading this awesome book (about which I shall soon blog) and there was this moment of, “Fark! What a brilliant line!” like I actually said that ’cos it was so good, followed by, “Fark! Spelling mistake of spacecraft’s name!” And I thought wouldn’t a good way to deal with spellchecking (besides my favourite cmd-;) be to take the entire text, do something fancy command-line to it, and output all the words alphabetically by frequency. Then you could just spellcheck that file, find the weird words, go back to the original document and correct the shit out of them. So I did. Brilliant!

# take a text and output all the words alphabetically by frequency
# spaces replaced with line breaks, lowercase everything, punctuation included (apostrophe in ascii \047)
# http://unix.stackexchange.com/questions/39039/get-text-file-word-occurrence-count-of-all-words-print-output-sorted
# http://tldp.org/LDP/abs/html/textproc.html
# http://donsnotes.com/tech/charsets/ascii.html
find . -name "foo.txt" -exec cat {} \; | tr ' ' '\012' | tr A-Z a-z | tr -cd '\012[a-z][0-9]\047' | grep -v "^\s*$" | sort | uniq -c | sort -bnr

Dasniya Sommer’s Bondage and Dancey Stuff in February

And here’s my regular re-posting of Dasniya Sommer’s most excellent bondage and shibari workshops in Berlin, this time with performances. As usual, more more more on Dasniya’s blog and website.

Also! Remounts of two Das Helmi shows at Ballhaus Ost: Fatrasien on 3rd-5th February; and Große Vögel Kleine Vögel on 17th-19th February.

Das Helmi: Fatrasien. At Ballhaus Ost (Foto Brian Morrow)
Das Helmi: Fatrasien. At Ballhaus Ost (Foto Brian Morrow)

Isabelle Schad — “Personal Collective” at Museo Universitario Del Chopo, Mexico City

There’s a scene in Episode 9 of Sense8 where Lito is sitting with Nomi before an early sketch of Man at the Crossroads in the Diego Rivera Museum in Mexico telling her how he lost his partner Hernando, while cutting to flashbacks of Hernando describing the history of of the mural, of art, and love before their first kiss.

Late-December, Isabelle says, “I’m going to Mexico.” I say, “You have to go to the Diego Rivera Museum.”

Even if she doesn’t make it there, she’s still in a museum, the Museo Universitario del Chopo, where she’s working with a group of local performers to develop and present a variation of the Collective JumpsPieces and Elements series. And if you are in Mexico City later next week, you can see it.

Personal Collective
Performance Installation:
4th and 5th February 2017, 1pm
9th and 10th February 2017, 5pm

Personal Collective has been developed together with the performers from Mexico City under the artistic direction of Isabelle Schad, assisted by Julia Rodriguez for the site of the Museum el Chopo. Certain modules derive from the work Collective Jumps by Isabelle Schad and Laurent Goldring.

With: Daniela Urías, Patricia Marcela Herrera Román, Engelbert Ortega, Alvaro Pérez, Azhareel Sierra, Argelia Villegas, Uriel Isaac Palma Torres, Alberto González Etchegaray, Leticia Cordero Mote, Adrián Hernández, Gilberto Spindola, Mariana García, Citlalli Granados de León, Alejandro Ramírez, Edgar Landa, Karina Terán, Mónica Arellano, Daniela Flores, Marlene Coronel, Víctor Hugo Rivera.

Personal Collective is a collaboration by Isabelle Schad with Goethe-Institut Mexico and Museo Universitario del Chopo.

More information: Isabelle Schad, Museo Universitario del Chopo.

Isabelle Schad — “Personal Collective” at Museo Universitario Del Chopo, Mexico City (Foto: I. Schad in front of Azul extensivo by Sofia Táboas)
Isabelle Schad — “Personal Collective” at Museo Universitario Del Chopo, Mexico City (Foto: I. Schad in front of Azul extensivo by Sofia Táboas)

Reading: Simone Caroti — The Culture Series of Iain M. Banks: A Critical Introduction

I put off buying Simone Caroti’s The Culture Series of Iain M. Banks: A Critical Introduction for a long time because it’s ridiculously expensive. And because the last ridiculously expensive volume on Banks, Martyn Colebrook’s and Katharine Cox’s The Transgressive Iain Banks: Essays on a Writer Beyond Borders was kinda unimpressive. I’m getting this bit out the way first: The Culture Series is one of those academic publications that’s needlessly expensive}. Chumps like me, living in a country with relatively cheap access to books, buy them anyway. I’m in a continual internal debate whether to scan them and upload to an audience that is denied access.

Caroti’s book-length essay reminded me why I love Banks, with or without an M., Culture or not, and reminded me I’ve not had a full Banks binge for a couple of years. Breaking the flow here, I feel I always need to point out here me writing on books I’m reading, am about to read, have read, is not a review. Sometimes it becomes that, but if you’re looking for a review of The Culture Series or a coherent set of thoughts, this isn’t the place. Unlike The Transgressive Iain Banks, which was frankly disappointing, Caroti did the research, brings together almost forty years of a writer spanning thirty works, comes up with a bunch of interesting analysis and criticism, and competently keeps it all rolling for almost 300 pages.

Much of how Caroti interprets Banks is through the lens of John Clute’s term Fantastika. While working on the Tiptree website, amid conversations around categorising works from a more technical perspective, Debbie Notkin said they (the Motherboard) preferred the term Speculative Fiction over Sci-Fi/Fantasy or other terms which delineated between the sometimes disparate and sometimes analogous twins of the genre. Caroti’s choice of the term might represent the (Eastern) European traditions of Skiffy he’s engaging in, contra Speculative Fictions very Anglo-American leanings. Still, I don’t recall him addressing Banks on the the latter terms, even as a comparison with Fantastika. Perhaps I’m missing something that Caroti’s erudition makes clear to himself, but I didn’t find the argument for calling Banks’ work — or even reading it as — Fantastika particularly compelling.

As a needlessly picky aside, I’ve long had a thing for Derrida, and make no claims to understanding more than the mere shallows fringing his vast oceans of incomprehensibility, but any form of “deconstruction then reconstruction” is not a thing. I know it’s a lost battle, but words and meaning matter. Whatever process a writer means by preparing the scene for ‘reconstruction’, it isn’t deconstruction, indeed is a fundamental misunderstanding of what deconstruction is and can do, which even Derrida was gloriously gnomic on. I think at times Caroti is engaging with Banks’ work consciously in a kind of deconstructive process, which makes it all the more annoying for me to have him undermine the rich possibilities in such a reading by pairing those two words.

Which leads me off into a couple general ramblings and criticisms of Caroti’s work — some of which he addresses himself.

I’ve been reading Banks since 2004 when a friend gave me the Culture novels Consider Phlebas, Use of Weapons, Excession, and the non-Culture Against a Dark Background, and Feersum Endjinn. Anyone who’s persevered with me blabbing here for the last almost 13 years knows I think Feersum Endjinn is Banks’ best work; I’m also well fond of The Algebraist (Archimandrite Luseferous of the Starveling Cult is his superior villain), Transition, and The Business. Another aside: while in Leipzig working with Melanie Lane, I met her partner, Chris Clark (the musician). Opening night drinking led to a long Banks conversation in which we got onto what an excellent book The Bridge is, and him saying obviously I’d read Alasdair Gray’s Lanark: A Life in Four Books, to which I replied I’d not even heard of it. Much incredulity and astonishment! It’s now on the top of my To Read list. I mention this in part to underline my often egregious gaps in ‘self-evident’ knowledge, and to point out that just because a connection may seem self-evident, doesn’t presuppose a clear path from one to another. Also to point out that reading an author’s influences doesn’t necessarily add anything to the experience. With the exception of Jo Walton, who writes her influences into profound and clever stories, I’m more likely to be bemused, like say, Iain Banks being influenced by Jane Austin.

The received separation of Banks’ works lies on either side of the M. Sci-fi with, and proper literature without. Caroti elaborates on this throughout his work, making it clear how poorly Banks’ genre work is critically regarded. Caroti though makes another division: Culture and non-Culture. If he hadn’t his book would be several hundred pages and unaffordable. But still, it’s an arbitrary division that obscures the singular thematic structure of Banks’ work. This is one of the points Caroti makes at the end, and in Banks fandom is a ripe subject for contentious debate.

Caroti describes some of Banks’ works as the Scottish series (The Crow Road, The Steep Approach to Garbadale, among others). Excluding the space opera component, there’s little that separates these from Against a Dark Background or Use of Weapons, particularly in setting. Equally the railway of The Bridge returns in a form in Feersum Endjinn; the levels of the Shellworld in Matter in the Dweller wormhole network in The Algebraist; The Concern of Transition in The Business in the eponymous novel; the politics in Complicity return throughout the Culture’s Special Circumstances and disaffected individuals who populate main character roles; not even including the hints and mentions of the Culture in supposedly non-Culture and non-genre works. My reading of Banks has always seen all his works as variations on the same story. It’s not so much that the Culture appears as say, a variation on The Business, or that characters in Transition could be read as Use of Weapons’ Cheradenine Zakalwe, Complicity’s Andy, or from The Business or Walking on Glass, rather that Banks had a comprehensive, unified framework upon which he built his novels out, and from which major ideas like the Culture emerged. Repetition and variation of these thematic constants occur in almost all his novels. Whether his novels were space opera or Scottish landscape is integral to this, but not primary, like scenery being changed on stage. Which is to say, by concentrating on the differences, be they M. or no-M. Banks, Culture or non-Culture, we’re missing reading Banks as a forty-year, philosophical, political project.

One idea he worked with from first to almost last novel, which is very much part of that framework, and for which he seems to get little credit, is identity. His opinion on identity and gender was well-formed even before his first novel, The Wasp Factory. Caroti discusses this, specifically the Culture understanding of sex, gender, identity through going back and forth between male and female as a normal, indeed expected part of life. It’s maybe here that the rupture between Banks as one of the queerest authors I’ve read and his pretty heteronormative audience crops up. Banks was a hoon, totally enjoyed booze and drugs, was publicly hetero, a bit of a lad, all of which appeals to a cisgender, hetero male demographic, be they reader or critic. And yet, unlike other cis-male writers of what we currently call trans and/or intersex characters (Jeffrey Eugenides’ Middlesex is a good example here), Banks wasn’t writing these characters to represent say, ‘the alienation we all feel’ or ‘so sad, how tragic’.

A diversion on The Wasp Factory and the protagonist with whom I share a name. I think trans/intersex criticism of the novel is valid, though less so than Middlesex or a lot of that ’70s / ’80s feminist-ish stuff like Angela Carter’s The Passion of New Eve. Maybe I’m biased, but it sits for me more in the camp of say Laura Jane Grace calling her biography Tranny. It comments in an excessive way on the ideology of gender as it was at the time, of which Dr John Money’s beliefs and experiments serve as a real-life mirror. The horror and disgust at what is done to Frank as a work of fiction might be better read as an allegory on real life and be directed into the real world at doctors and theorists who still carry out violence on trans and intersex bodies little different from what Frank’s father did.

Nonetheless it makes a reading of Banks’ understanding of gender less than simplistically utopian. What Banks proposes isn’t a ’70s/’80s radical feminist destroying of gender and androgynous utopia, much like his Culture utopia isn’t a Communist one. I still find this surprising since there was little outside these dominant and ubiquitous theories at the time to provide alternatives, and Banks’ thinking on gender and identity still reads as contemporary and relevant. A way of illustrating this is in the ending of Excession, where Genar-Hofoen, as a condition for having provided services, is given the body of an Affront, the buffoonish and sadistic alien tentacle monsters. If transposing yourself into an alien species is both possible and unremarkable, how mundane must identity of self bound to gender and sex be? Banks proposes both a kind of Butlerian ‘gender as a useful generalisation’ and Deleuzean ‘as many genders as there are identities’ while on one side resisting collapsing identity to compulsory androgyny and the other validating and celebrating difference. It’s dead fucking sexy.

As I was reading The Culture Series, the chapter on The Player of Games, I remembered reading somewhere that the main character, Jernau Morat Gurgeh, was written as brown or black — which flies in the face of the mid-’90s Orbit print with Mark Salwowski cover where he’s so white he’s pink. I had to reread to confirm, but there it is. Early in the novel he’s described as having a “dark-curled head”, “black locks of hair”, “dark beard”; compared to the Culture ambassador, “Shohobohaum Za was a little lighter in colour than Gurgeh, but still much darker than the average Azadian”, and his partner, Yay having “gold-dark skin”. So with Player of Games, we have a novel where the main character is a person of colour, and it’s indicated the Culture is a whole lot more brown than might be expected in the history of Anglo-American Sci-Fi and space opera, and a whole lot more than it’s still discussed as. And as with gender, reading ethnicity in Banks is critical to understanding if not his entire body of work, then certainly the Culture.

One final thing to finish with, Caroti mentions a few times the work on Banks’ opus by Moira Martingale, Gothic Dimensions: Iain Banks, Timelord, which I’d (naturally) never heard of, and is now obviously on my list.

Simone Caroti — The Culture Series of Iain M. Banks: A Critical Introduction
Simone Caroti — The Culture Series of Iain M. Banks: A Critical Introduction

One More Sort of Bi Trans Queer Muslim Immigrant Something Woman

Despite my hostility to labels, be they social, cultural, medical, legal, it’s obvious that most people define and reduce people only to labels and categories. And knowing that I can appear to those people as not belonging to those categories they desire to annihilate, and thus seem to be “one of them”; and knowing that despite my own definition of self being seldom and very much ambivalently on those terms — terms which are some of the least interesting parts of me — nonetheless for them this is what I am, this is all I am.

So this is me putting my arse on the line and being counted:

Here’s one more woman, here’s one more bi, here’s one more trans, here’s one more queer, here’s one more — as they like to say in Germany — of Muslim immigrant background.

Because even though I want to have a private life, and don’t want to be the object of public scrutiny, and I’m afraid of the discrimination and dehumanisation that comes with being such an object, for many there isn’t this choice. And irrespective of the fact I am not public about this, I’ve nonetheless had to live through it, live through being this.

Because my grandmother was Muslim and Turkish, and every time I see another Muslim woman treated like shit I think of her, of that being done to her.

And we’re being targeted anyway, so fuck it.

Dasniya Sommer’s February Self-Suspension Workshop

Dasniya Sommer’s most excellent workshop on the art of shibari self-suspension returns in February. One of my faves from her. All the info on her blog.

Fly high! This workshop answers all your questions on self-suspension technique. After a solid warm up we will look at different harnesses for your personal self-suspension.

The technique varies depending on its function and anatomy. It can be used for performing or simply as rope playing with a partner. After a warm up we will step by step look at safety principals, breathing, movement sequence, and progressions in the air.

For me self-suspension is also a performative tool for self-empowerment. So when you are in the air, we will pace down, finding your personal rope dance and own inner hero.

Bring comfortable clothes, a snack and ropes if you have, otherwise we provide them.

Friday, February 24th
Hours: 12 -16h
Costs: 50 €
Info & registration: workshops@dasniyasommer.de

Where: Institute Sommer, Uferstrasse 8, 13357 Berlin. U8 Pankstrasse, U9 Osloerstrasse
(Enter the gate at the big bus, walk right to the building with the big clock, turn left and immediately right up the small stairs, entrance ‘B6’)
Please take this number in case the door is locked, 0174-3937049

Baby belly bondage. Janina in Dasniya's studio, July 2016, photographed by Frances d'Ath
Baby belly bondage. Janina in Dasniya’s studio, July 2016, photographed by Frances d’Ath