Book Reviews

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Anthology #35

The Dirty South, by John Connolly

Hitherto, I would not have actively sought out American crime thrillers in preference to other genres, particularly British ones, but this book, written by an ex-patriate Irishman, as it happens, appears not to be in thrall to an established, and well known background of American writing, and I found it an enjoyable, and nicely paced thriller. It is set in rural Arkansas, not long after William Jefferson Clinton, “the son of a traveling [sic] salesman out of Hope, Arkansas, became the forty-second president of the United States”, and it raised the hopes of many in The South, specifically his home state, that “some federal manna was bound to come the Bear State’s way.” However, the expected, but by no means guaranteed, largesse of a corporation by the name of Kovas Industries could easily be diverted elsewhere [Texas] if the barbaric killing of a young black girl were to go unsolved. That would not be automatically facilitated by the mix of competing police jurisdictions, associated civilian offices, such as medical examiner, and the overriding authority of one of the oldest families in the county, the Cades, one of whom, with the given name of Jurel, is the chief investigator for the county, and not averse to perverting the course of justice, if it serves his family’s interests. Into this febrile mix comes Charlie Parker, an ex-NYPD cop, who is searching for the man who killed his wife & daughter in a ghastly way, brought there by the information he has received through his grapevine about the local killing. Because of his intransigence, and initial refusal to reveal any details about his background, he is immediately regarded as a suspect, but this is soon resolved, and after some hesitation, he decides to remain and assist with the investigation, in the hope that it might also throw some light on his own search. The build-up to the resolution is quite slow, but not unnecessarily so, and in this prequel to the Parker series, he brings his outsider insight to help identify the killer. The paperback I read was published in 2021 [2020] by Hodder & Stoughton, London, ISBN 978-1-5293-9833–5.

Marple: Twelve New Stories, by various [12]

As ever with this sort of compendium, in my humble opinion, the result is a Curate’s Egg. I was already familiar with at least the name, if not in every case the work of several of the included authors: Val McDermid, Elly Griffiths, and Kate Mosse, in order of inclusion, but of course, familiarity with an author’s regular work won’t necessarily give a reader here the expectation of a particular style of writing, although in Elly Griffith’s case, there was a specific hope, and I am glad to say that I wasn’t disappointed. To be fair to these authors, and others who are continuing the work of now deceased but universally popular writers, a writing style must, surely, be a very personal attribute, and trying deliberately to copy another writer’s style isn’t necessarily the best approach. Nevertheless, and I do want to avoid giving an impression of bias here, Agatha Christie was a British writer, and her mystery thrillers were set mostly in an England between the 1920s and the 1960s, so it does feel somewhat odd to read a Marple story set in the 1970s, and it was very clear to me which writers here were not British, as a result of subtle differences in English usage and vocabulary. Perhaps I am the Luddite, expecting all the stories to written in a style preserved in aspic: I don’t know, but despite all the main characters being here, some stories felt more comfortable than others. That said, this is a welcome addition to the canon, as are the new Poirot stories written by Sophie Hannah, and all the stories here are quite short, so the action moves agreeably quickly. Definitely worth reading. The paperback I read was published in 2023 [2022] by HarperCollinsPublishers, London, ISBN 978-0-0084-6735-7.

April in Spain, by John Banville

This book is the second in a series featuring the character of Detective Inspector St. John Strafford, and it is the first [possibly only, but that is unclear] to overlap with this Irish author’s earlier series, featuring the character of Quirke, a retired pathologist. The time period is unspecified, other than the month, April, but it is probably late 1950s, or early 1960s*. Quirke is on holiday, albeit grudgingly, with his second wife Evelyn, an Austrian psychiatrist, in San Sebastián, Spain [*Franco died in 1975, but the indicators in this story set it earlier]. After cutting his right hand quite badly, clumsily attempting to open an oyster, Quirke & Evelyn attend the local hospital, and while there, he sees a young female doctor, whom he had previously spotted in a local bar, overhearing her Irish accent; Quirke is a recovering alcoholic; but the doctor refuses to treat him, abruptly referring him to a local male doctor. This confirms Quirke’s suspicions that the young woman is the same one who was thought to have died some years previously in mysterious circumstances back home. He impulsively makes the mistake of phoning his daughter, Phoebe, in Dublin: she and the woman, now going under the name Angela Lawless, had been friends when she was known as April Latimer [hence the pun in the book’s title]. Quirke asks Phoebe to come to Spain to put his mind at rest, and after some hesitation, and a couple of visits to significant characters, she decides to accede to his request; however, she is accompanied, somewhat to her chagrin, by Strafford, for her protection. Unbeknown to them, a London hitman, but who has a background in Dublin, is also on the trail of the pseudonymous Angela Lawless. The tension builds slowly, but inexorably, and the plot is plausible, but there is one aspect of the dénouement which stretches credibility for me; other than that, it is a well-written thriller, and I would be happy to find other stories by this author. The paperback I read was published in 2022 [2021] by Faber & Faber Limited, London, ISBN 978-0-5713-6360-5.

The Stone Chamber, by Kate Ellis

By now, the Detective Inspector Wesley Peterson character is very well established, having featured in at least 26 novels to date; I have reviewed a few of them, the most recent, The Burial Circle, here. They are set in Devon, a part of England known to many of my ancestors, and this one starts with a series of murders, seemingly random, but after the first, the others are connected by the method of disposal: a bullet to the head. Also, an American tourist has gone missing, and there are signs of a bloody struggle in her hotel room. It takes some time for the enquiries of Wesley and his colleagues to find any reason for these murders, and Wesley is helped to some extent by his old friend from his archaeology study background, Dr Neil Watson; Neil is excavating a church which shows evidence of an attached sealed room, which might contain the remains of an anchorite or anchoress: these were Christian devotees who chose to be sealed off from the world, for the purpose of solitary contemplation & prayer, apart from their existential needs being catered for. This ties in with a diary, dating from 1956, excerpts of which are interspersed with the other chapters, and whose existence is only discovered later in the story, when its connection to the murders is revealed. The plot is carefully developed, and the perpetrator is only discovered after family connections have been resolved, and the lies told by people to protect their shameful, or even criminal acts, have been brought to light. There is a final twist which is unexpected and poignant, and certainly not implausible, so this is an engaging read from this accomplished author. The paperback I read was published in 2022 [2021] by Piatkus, an imprint of Little, Brown Book Group, London, ISBN 978-0-3494-2571-9.

Book Reviews

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Anthology #32

The Raging Storm, by Ann Cleeves

This is only the third in the Matthew Venn series by this expert author, but already, it has the feel of a well-established series, with familiar characters; the second of the previous two stories, the Heron’s Cry, is reviewed here. Venn is a Detective Inspector in the Devon [England] & Cornwall police force, based at Barnstaple, and he enjoys the beauty of the surrounding coast & countryside, but he is still working his way out of the guilt he feels at abandoning his Christian faith, after a childhood brought up as a member of the élitist Barum Brethren, who are still very much present in the area, including the locus of the story. His latest case concerns the murder of a local celebrity, a seaman & adventurer, by the name of Jeremy, aka Jem, Roscoe who, after having been away for some years, had come back to the area of his origin, and rented a cottage overlooking the sea in a fictional Devon village. He told the pub locals, who were thrilled at his presence, that he was waiting for someone special to arrive, but wouldn’t reveal whom. His body is subsequently found in a small boat, anchored by the coast in a spot which is haunted by doom-laden folklore. In conducting the investigation, Venn must counter the inevitable resistance, and even suspicion of the locals, although his husband, Jonathan, proves to be helpful [again], with his easy-going manner which always seems to put people at ease. As usual with this author, the characters are plausible, and the procedural action develops slowly, but inexorably, towards a satisfying conclusion. Also as usual, at the front of the book there is a monochrome map of the area, albeit not including the fictional village and its nearest town of any size, to help the reader. This canon has already been dramatised, so I look forward to seeing this one, if it occurs, and how well it is adapted from the book.  The hardback I read was published in 2023 by Macmillan, an imprint of Pan Macmillan, London, ISBN 978-1-5290-7769–8.

The Hanging Garden, by Ian Rankin

Rebus is very busy: it’s 1997; or thereabouts: the exact date isn’t specified, and there are jumps back into the past; and he is still a Detective Inspector with the Scottish police, based at the St. Leonard’s station in Edinburgh. He is investigating whether a respected retired professor of languages could have been a war criminal, responsible for initiating a massacre of civilians in France during the second world war; it is proving extremely difficult to find any evidence which would support that hypothesis. He also become involved in a developing conflict between two vicious gangs in the city, which threatens to escalate into full-scale war. On one side is the outfit controlled by an awkward Nemesis of Rebus, Morris Gerald Cafferty, who is having to run his empire from a cell in Barlinnie gaol in Glasgow, subsequent to a successful conviction on Rebus’s evidence. The other gang is run by a relative newcomer, the amusingly named Thomas Telford; he has enlisted the help of a Newcastle gangster who is originally from Chechnya, but there is also most recently a Japanese Yakuza presence, which is very disturbing for the Scottish police: especially as the primary object of the upstarts appears to be the total elimination of the established order, namely Cafferty. The latter seems content to regard Rebus as his ‘man’, referring to him as “Strawman”, as a result of events which took place in previous stories, but Rebus is very conscious of the implications, always looking for an opportunity to disabuse Cafferty of this contention. Rebus is now divorced from his wife, Rhona, who lives in London, but their daughter, Samantha, is back home, and she & Rebus seem to be getting along well. Unfortunately, an incident occurs which causes Rebus to risk almost everything to make amends, and he is forced into an unholy alliance with Cafferty. It’s a convoluted plot, but as ever, Rankin ties all the strands together very skilfully, and there are no loose ends. The paperback I read was published in 2021 by Orion Fiction [1998, Orion Books, London], ISBN 978-1-3987-0640-8.

Picture You Dead, by Peter James

The subject of this most recent entry in the Dead series of novels featuring Detective Superintendent Roy Grace is avarice; probably not a word in common usage these days, but everybody is aware of greed, and the pernicious effect it can have upon people. It is probably a given that career criminals will allow this unpleasant personality trait to determine their actions, because they have decided that the conventional lifestyle of work for minimal reward, especially if they have no academic qualifications, is not for them; but greed can affect ‘ordinary’ people as well, even if only indirectly. When a respectable builder buys an old painting for peanuts at a car boot sale; not for the art itself, but for the frame, which has a certain aesthetic appeal; the life of the man, his wife, and their adolescent & diabetic son is changed dramatically. Serendipitously [or at least, so it seems at the time], he discovers that there is another, more interesting painting hidden behind the ghastly daub he had seen originally. Naturally, it is worth checking if this first image has any monetary value, so the man starts making enquiries. Unfortunately, people with fewer [or no] scruples become involved, and when it transpires that the painting could be a highly sought-after example of the fête galante school, by the eighteenth century French artist, Jean-Honoré Fragonard, it becomes an object of desire to which life-threatening danger becomes attached; an earlier murder also features. Roy Grace, who is still mourning a son only recently discovered, but lost in a tragic accident, and eagerly awaiting the arrival of a new baby with his second wife, Cleo, solves the crime and, of course, it is a moral tale, but it is well told, as ever. The hardback I read was published in 2022 by Macmillan, an imprint of Pan Macmillan, London, ISBN 978-1-5290-0436-6.

Summerland, by Hannu Rajaniemi

I found this story rather confusing; I wouldn’t go so far as to describe it as impenetrable, but there were aspects of it which impeded my enjoyment of it. The plot is conventional enough: an espionage narrative set in an alternative universe, dateline 1938, but the main difference, apart from the technology [read on], is that Adolf Hitler and his monomaniacal mission is never mentioned, so the reader can only wonder why, and if the consequent destruction of Germany and the desolation of much of the rest of the world will ever happen. The action is based in London, England, and the foreign focus is Spain, where the civil war which happened in our world is raging. The main enemy, however, is Russia, which is meddling in the war in the ways familiar to us; however, Joseph Stalin, in the guise of his real birth name Iosif Vissarionovich Dzhugashvili, from Georgia, has gone to Spain, according to a communist British local asset, to stop the war. To achieve this, he intends to take over the government, reject the Soviets, and make a deal with the British, which would ensure the defeat of Franco: needless to say, he is being hunted by the Russian NKVD. The protagonist is an SIS operative by the name of Rachel White, who is hunting a mole, after receiving information from a Russian defector, but there is a connection with the imbroglio in Spain. Where the narrative diverges from ‘reality’ is that death has been conquered, and the eponymous Summerland is where the dead go, so that they can live on, in a manner of speaking, if they are lucky: not all do. The confusion arises, for me, in the plethora of quasi-technical terminology surrounding this metaphysical development: it could be the analogous embodiment of the Steampunk lifestyle, albeit updated from the Victorian/Edwardian era. Some explanations of the technology were sprinkled into the narrative, but more, or even an attached glossary, would have enabled me to enjoy this story more. The paperback I read was published in 2018 by Gollancz, London, ISBN 978-1-4732-0328-0.

Book Reviews

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Anthology #30

A Most Wanted Man, by John le Carré

This relatively late entry in le Carré’s canon appears to be a response to the so-called 9/11 and the War on Terror, occurring and, subsequently initiated, in the United States of America. It took le Carré a few years to deliver, but by the end, we are left in no doubt as to his attitude regarding America’s approach towards the scourge of terrorism. It starts relatively quietly, with an apparently traumatised young man, possibly Chechen, arriving in Hamburg, Germany, and throwing himself upon the tender mercy of a young female pro bono asylum advocate. His stated intentions are to be allowed to remain in the country, primarily, but also to train & qualify as a medical practitioner, partly as a demonstration of his Moslem beliefs. Curiously, he is carrying details of a bank account in that city, with the code word Lippizaner; the bank, Brue Frères, is not actually French, but run by an expatriate Scot: the name was an affectation of the bank’s founder, and it was previously based in Vienna, but it relocated to Hamburg for what might, euphemistically, be referred to as ‘operational’ reasons. The Lippizaner accounts were held at the ultra-secret private bank on behalf of Russian oligarchs and gangsters, and they have been a matter of some embarrassment to Thomas Brue. It soon becomes evident that the German security services are aware of the presence of the young man, who goes by the name Issa, although that is not his Russian birth name. Unfortunately, as a by-product of the creation of the German republic, their security services are an awkward mix which must, of necessity, include the police service, but also the government’s American sponsors: a term not used satirically. Issa declares himself unwilling to claim his father’s legacy, but he could be persuaded by a resident Moslem cleric, who solicits donations for Moslem charities: unfortunately, he is only “95% good” — will the Americans allow this interaction and donation of Issa’s funds to proceed? Another cracking and thought-provoking story about iniquity & double-dealing from this master story-teller. The paperback I read was published in 2018 by Penguin Books [2008, Hodder & Stoughton], ISBN 978-0-2413-2242–0.

Hazards of Time Travel, by Joyce Carol Oates

I so wanted to give this book a good review, but it will have to be with reservations. It starts well enough, being narrated by a 17 year old high school girl in Pennsboro, New Jersey, USA, but it is set in a [for this British person] nightmare, fascist version of a possible future, set in the twenty-third year after the calendar has been reset, following their ‘9/11’ terrorist attacks. All personal freedom has been curtailed by Homeland Security, which effectively runs the country, and aggressively pursues its ‘enemies’; Canada has also, implausibly, been absorbed into the combined North American States. The protagonist, Adriane Strohl, is arrested at school at the instigation of her Principal, on a charge of seven counts of “Treason-Speech and Questioning of Authority”, immediately after giving her Valedictorian speech, and after interrogation as a suspected subversive is sentenced to the most serious punishment less than “Deletion” — publicly viewed execution — which is Exile, and that means being sent back in time to 1959, old calendar, in rural Wisconsin. It seems likely that her father’s status, MI — Marked Individual — acquired when he was younger, as a result of being charged with associating with [merely listening to] a Subversive Individual, who was later arrested & tried for treason, had marked Adriane out as being likely to succumb to “independent thought”. What follows is the most interesting part of the book, with copious psychology, which is one of her study subjects, but also as it applies to her, and the way the subject is being deliberately steered by ‘the powers that be’ towards the future she has been sent from. Along the way, she meets a fellow exile, one of her professors, but their relationship, although latterly intimate, does not end well. The story concludes happily but, for me, unresolved: that said, the message it sends is important, so although the book is worth reading, it fell at the final hurdle in my estimation. The paperback I read was published in 2019 [UK, 2018] by 4th Estate, [US, 2018, Ecco, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers], ISBN 978-0-0082-9548-6.

The Secret Hours, by Mick Herron

My pleasure at digesting this latest entry in the author’s canon was limited somewhat by having to speed-read it, but that’s nobody’s fault but mine. As ever, with semi-serial novels, a knowledge of preceding narratives is useful, but not essential. It is a British story, and the politics are bang up to date: only the names have been changed to protect the guilty. Diana Taverner is still First Desk [although that is privileged information: she is only referred to here by her title] at Regent’s Park, where the Security Service is situated; the blond bomb-site of a PM has been ousted by his ungrateful Party, and a public inquiry, called Monochrome, has been set up to scrutinise the operations of the British Intelligence Services: needless to say, for Diana, lead balloons spring to mind. However, she need not worry unduly, because the committee members are an uninspiring bunch, apart from one IT magnate, and the two administrators are relatively low-level civil servants who appear not to have been selected for their boat-rocking potential. While this is progressing, we learn about a retired agent from eastern Europe who had been given a safe haven in Britain; although it was safe until an attempt at abduction is made, which he narrowly avoids. This produces his back story, which involves two characters who are well known in the present, but in different guises, which are not revealed in full [and, with one of them, not even explicitly, although as above, foreknowledge can be gratifying & helpful] until near the end. All the usual machinations are here, and in my own humble opinion, Mick Herron’s writing can justifiably be spoken of as equal in merit to that of his possible model, John le Carré. There aren’t many authors whose body of work I would willingly own as a library for regular re-reading, but this one is at the top of the list: if you like le Carré, you’ll love this. In a way, if I ever get the chance to watch the TV dramatisation, I’m not sure if it could live up to the appeal of the written word. The hardback I read was published in 2023 by Baskerville, an imprint of John Murray (Publishers), London, ISBN 978-1-3998-0053-2.

The Old Rogue of Limehouse, by Ann Granger

This genre, that of the nineteenth century crime novel, featuring either contemporary police officers or freelance/consulting detectives, or the criminal elements as the protagonists is probably quite popular, although one stands out head & shoulders above the rest, namely Sherlock Holmes. This book is one of an already large series of crime novels from this author featuring these characters, Inspector Ben Ross and his colleagues, but she has also written three other crime novel series which include several, or many, entries. The inspector is based at Scotland Yard; hardly surprising, really, because being based at Hammersmith nick probably wouldn’t have had the same cachet. At least in these series, the hero generally has a wife, who could also be intelligent and capable of contributing useful suggestions, as is the case here. The murder victim is a notorious Dutch antiquarian, Jacob Jacobus, now resident in Limehouse, London; he has been known to pass on information to the police, no doubt in reasonable hope of being protected from arrest for his suspected fencing activities, although nothing had hitherto been proved, and Ross is hoping to glean some useful information about potential burglaries expected during the forthcoming London ‘season’, but Jacobus is slain before he can help. At the same time, an emerald necklace, a priceless heirloom of the Roxby family, is stolen; could the two crimes be connected? As usual, family secrets are not willingly disclosed, and it is a time when the upper class, or even the aspiring middle class, could use position & financial clout to hinder Ross’s investigation. The incredulous and/or officious superior officer is a well-used trope, and it is present here, but it doesn’t prevent the unravelling of the plot. Not an unduly demanding read, but engaging enough. The paperback I read was published in 2023, HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP, London, ISBN 978-1-4722-9015-1.

Book Reviews

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Anthology #29

Agent Running in the Field, by John le Carré

This is a late entry in le Carré’s canon; the last completed novel was Silverview, published in 2021, and reviewed by me in February 2022; and the title has a double meaning, but I will refrain from defining which is applicable; or, indeed, if it is both. The story is narrated in the first person in a historical sense, albeit the very recent past, so we can be confident, unless the author has uncharacteristically introduced a metaphysical aspect to his spy novel, that the narrator has ‘lived to tell the tale’. He is Anatoly, aka Nat, “a journeyman spy in his late forties who detests deskwork and has the curriculum vitae of a middle-ranking diplomat who never made the grade.” He is married to Prue, a highly intelligent barrister with left-wing tendencies, who takes on pro bono work, and is currently involved in a campaign against Big Pharma. Nat enjoys playing badminton, and generally beating all-comers, and while “savouring a well-deserved spell of home leave”, albeit “A cloud looms over my professional life … I expect to be declared redundant” is not unduly surprised when a “six-foot-something, gawky bespectacled young man” who has bicycled “all across London just to challenge the Champ of the South” does just that. In addition to being a very competent player, who soon has Nat’s measure, albeit not always, Ed Shannon has very pronounced pro-Europe and anti-Trump views, and when it later becomes apparent that Ed has offered his services to the Russians, Nat falls under suspicion when he declares his association with Ed: why did he not do this at the time? Nat’s ultimate superior, Bryn Jordan, who is currently on secondment in Washington DC, normally allows Nat some considerable latitude, but even he seems disappointed at this turn of events. What follows is the operation to monitor Ed in his dealings with the opposition, and the possible dénouement. I’ve always enjoyed reading le Carré’s spy stories, and this one doesn’t disappoint. The paperback I read was published in 2020 by Penguin Books [2019, Viking], ISBN 978-0-2419-8654–7.

Complicity, by Iain Banks

This author’s name is one of which I had heard, and knowing it had some resonance, but without being sure why, I was happy to find an example of his work to sample. The protagonist, Cameron Colley, who narrates in the first person, is described as “a fully paid-up Gonzo hack on an Edinburgh newspaper” [is it just coincidence that I seem to be reading a lot of stories set in & around Edinburgh recently?], but without wanting to give anything away, I think he would have to go some to keep up with the originator of the sobriquet, Hunter S. Thompson. Nevertheless, he lives hard, and he is currently pursuing a story about corruption in the arms industry, a potentially very dangerous undertaking. The book starts with another character, whose actions are described in the second person, somewhat unusually, and these actions are brutally violent, even arguably sadistic, but the identity of this character isn’t revealed until near the end, so the reader has no alternative but to follow the actions and try to make connections; although there appears to be an overriding motive, which is retribution: this stems from an extreme version of Colley’s social conscience, but could Colley be the perpetrator? While this is happening, we are given Colley’s back story, including his relationship with an old school pal, Andy, two years older than Colley, and with whom he is still in contact: Andy has now settled into slackerdom, having bought a ramshackle hotel in the Scottish wilderness, after making a fortune by selling his business in which he sold very useful gadgets. Also, Colley has semi-regular sex sessions [quite graphic, occasionally] with another old friend, Yvonne, who is married to the handsome but openly avaricious William. The story builds well, and gives the thoughtful reader plenty to ruminate on, and possibly identify with, in terms of the iniquity of the modern world, so an enjoyable read for me. The paperback I read was published in 2018 [1994] by Abacus, [1993, Little, Brown and Company, London], ISBN 978-0-3491-4284-5.

Lies, Damned Lies, and History, by Jodi Taylor

This is the seventh book in this series, and the second one from it which I have read — the other one is the ninth, which I read before this one, but I am reviewing them chronologically, which seems sensible; either way, this is now a must-read series for me, primarily because I love time travel stories, but also because they are written with a nice humour. It is a synthesis of Terry Pratchett and Doulas Adams, and the protagonist, Dr Lisa Maxwell, always known as Max, narrates the action in a self-deprecating way: very British! Given this story’s place in the canon, not all details are given, despite it being effectively a stand-alone entry, which can be slightly frustrating, especially the functioning of the time-travel physics, but to be fair, as with most time-travel stories, the reader has to suspend disbelief that it will work. Max is a historian [not “an historian”, as Taylor anachronistically insists on saying] and Chief Operations Officer of the History Department of St. Mary’s, location undisclosed, which is a subsidiary of the University of Thirsk, which for some reason is situated in Northallerton, North Yorkshire, not Thirsk itself. The department is charged with visiting significant episodes in history for research, and these intrepid researchers travel in pods, which are vaguely described as stone-built shacks, but equipped with modern facilities, including computers, to manage the travel, and necessary facilities, such as toilets, but there doesn’t appear to be any attempt to make these shacks blend in [or be bigger on the inside, à la TARDIS]. Unfortunately [or fortuitously, one could say, else there would be scant story to tell] something nearly always seems to go wrong on these jumps and, inevitably, there is a villain, the renegade historian Clive Ronan, and the proto-fascist Time Police to contend with. Oh, and Max is pregnant, and if she should unfortunately give birth out of her own time, she & the child would not be allowed to leave that epoch….. The paperback I read was published in 2016 by Accent Press Ltd., ISBN 978-1-9109-3900-0.

An Argumentation of Historians, by Jodi Taylor

Slight plot spoiler necessary here, to reveal that Max is back in her own time, having recovered from the vicissitudes of the above and, presumably, intermediate story, but her son, Matthew, has been moved to the future by the Time Police for safe keeping from the evil Clive Ronan. In the previously reviewed story, the historians [who argue constantly, apparently, hence this book’s title] travelled to Georgian England, medieval Wales, The Wash in East Anglia when King John lost his treasure, and ancient Stonehenge. This time, they visit Tudor England to view Henry VIII’s disastrous jousting injury, Persepolis to watch it burn, and a siege in medieval England. Along the way, Max hatches a plan to trap Clive Ronan once & for all, having thwarted the not insignificant attempts of the Time Police to ensnare him; this is very much dependent upon Ronan doing what is expected of him, at the right time, of course. As with the previous story, there is copious attention to detail and, given that my knowledge of history is by no means encyclopaedic, I have to assume that the details are, at the very least, broadly correct; also, as before, the other and in no sense any less important departments of St. Mary’s and their vital staff are included at relevant junctures. This time though, unfortunately, there is a viper in the nest: because of previous transgressions by St. Mary’s — predominantly Max, it has to be said — Thirsk has now imposed a resident monitor, in the form of Malcolm Halcombe, or “the idiot Halcombe”, as he is described by nearly everyone there, out of his hearing at least: he is still being treated, very slowly, and as painfully as possible, in the Medical Department, for leprosy, contracted on a previous mission. I sincerely hope I can find more of these stories and, ideally, in chronological order, to fill in some of the missing details! The paperback I read was published in 2018 Accent Press Ltd., ISBN 978-1-7861-5233-6.

Book Reviews

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Anthology #25

Steps to the Gallows, by Edward Marston

This is the second book in the Bow Street Rivals series, preceding Date with the Executioner, but the format, in the same time period [1816], seems to be identical to its successor, and even the plot is quite similar: here, instead of a campaigning MP being murdered [notwithstanding his philandering], it is the publisher of a satirical news sheet, called Parliament of Foibles, and scandalous cartoons, drawn by a secretive artist only known as Virgo. So, the reader is likely to infer that the author is happy to condone social justice, and the heroes of the scenario, the Skillen twins, have made it their quest to uphold it, in the face of the well known nineteenth century [and continuing, some would say] Establishment disdain for democracy. Unfortunately, the victim, an ex-army man, had requested protection from the brothers, as a result of threats of physical violence, but the colleague they had assigned the job had himself been brutally attacked, so this development had obviously been expected by the perpetrator — seemingly, as a result of deduction & enquiries by the brothers, a shadowy, most likely rich, Establishment figure. The bulk of the narrative details the narrowing down of the list and, ideally, figurative elimination of the innocent suspects, but the actual perpetrator cleverly wrong-foots the pursuers, including the hopeless official upholders of law & order, the Bow Street Runners, until the very end. Solid & well-plotted, if not too mentally taxing. The paperback I read was published in 2017 [2016] by Allison & Busby Limited, London, ISBN 978-0-7490-1602–9.

Deep Time, by Trevor Baxendale

This is a Doctor Who story, one of a trilogy of adventures referred to as The Glamour Chronicles [don’t jump to conclusions about that]; I can’t reveal where it sits in the series; and it features the twelfth Doctor, played on screen by Peter Capaldi. In one sense, it seems somewhat superfluous to know which actor is playing the character at any one time, but that is one of the features, appreciated by most, of the genre, that each actor brings specific mannerisms & foibles to the character, and this is what drew me to this particular book, because I didn’t have chance, at the time, and being a fan, to watch all of this Doctor’s adventures. I am catching up with the few which are available [why not all, I wonder? The answer is probably because these are freely available, whereas the whole set will be available, for a subscription, on a streaming service]; here, the Doctor’s companion [not assistant!] is the lovely Jenna Coleman, as Clara Oswald, who is equally as good as the many other companions the various Doctors have had in their many iterations. Here, at some time in Earth’s future, a space ship is on the way to find a wormhole in a different galaxy, which might provide the answer for one of the ship’s passengers as to why his mother’s space ship disappeared a century earlier. If course, this is destined to precipitate great danger, which is why the Doctor and Clara mysteriously appear on the ship and join the journey. Along the way, the Doctor warns the other passengers about the perils of the Glamour, which I won’t reveal here, but if disbelief can be sufficiently suspended, it is very plausible. If one is familiar enough with the character, it is enjoyable to mentally play out the action, and the psychological element stays on the right side of disturbing. The paperback I read was published in 2018 [2015] by BBC Books, an imprint of Ebury Publishing, London, ISBN 978-1-7859-4385-0.

Dark Voyage, by Alan Furst

This author is very proficient at writing wartime, both hot & cold, and espionage novels: his work as a journalist has taken him to France, eastern Europe and Russia, so he should have a reasonable ‘feel’ for the way of thinking, and how that impinges on life, both contemporaneously and historically, in these countries. This is the eighth novel in his canon of eleven, to the date of publishing; but that is nearly twenty years ago now, so it is possible there are more, by now. This narrative is a workmanlike story of a medium-size Dutch freighter, captained by Eric DeHaan, with a crew of diverse nationalities, and it takes place in 1941; so, the early years of world war two, when the outcome was finely balanced, but a serious miscalculation by Hitler sealed his fate. DeHaan is coerced — with not a great deal of difficulty, it has to be said: he seems to be a pragmatist, and accepts that generally, it is best to ‘go with the flow’ to use an anachronistic, modern term — into working for British intelligence, which necessitates a change of apparent registration of the boat to Spanish, ostensibly a neutral nation, but actually barely concealing its alignment to the Axis powers. Given that all nautical registrations can be checked in the Lloyds documents, this was a clever move, because the name given was that of a freighter currently out of action in South America, so unlikely to be discovered in short order. As the narrative progresses, the boat acquires a few potentially dangerous [albeit indirectly] passengers, some of whom are put to work, and it takes on some strategically important cargoes, which could also be very dangerous, if discovered by the enemy, or detonated. The action starts in the Mediterranean, then moves to the Baltic, and the ending is somewhat downbeat, notwithstanding a few casualties along the way, and there is also a question mark over the fate of our hero, but despite that, this is an engaging read. The paperback I read was reissued in 2008, by Phoenix, an imprint of Orion Books Ltd., London [2005; first published by Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2004], ISBN 978-0-7538-2555-6.

Head of State, by Andrew Marr

There is a very clever pun in this title, which I can’t reveal, as it would seriously spoil the plot, but Andrew Marr, a name probably familiar to most who watch British television news & current affairs programmes, has drawn on his considerable experience as a political observer, correspondent, and interlocutor to craft a very plausible, yet simultaneously amusing, in a satirical way, story of what could have happened in events surrounding the Brexit referendum in England in 2016. The vote is set to take place on a fictional date, Thursday 21 September 2017, but I’m not sure of the significance of that, given that the story was written in 2014, at the instigation of Lord Peter Chadlington, of the unquestionably English Establishment Gummer family, whose idea it was initially — Marr provided the breadth of political knowledge & writing competence, although I wonder how closely his own views align with the illustrious [?] baron: perhaps when the story was written, the actual date had not yet been finalised, but I could be wrong there. It is interesting that Marr has used the names of some real people in the narrative, including his own, self-referentially, but the contribution of the others is not acknowledged, so I wonder if he asked their permission? The entirely fictional prime minister is supporting remaining in Europe, but the mood of the country is on a knife edge, and any unforeseen events could seriously jeopardise his chances of success…what could possibly go wrong? I enjoyed this well written book and I will certainly keep my eyes open for more of Marr’s fiction. The paperback I read was published in 2015 [2014] by Fourth Estate, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, London, ISBN 978-0-0075-9194-7.

Book Reviews

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Anthology #24

The Diary of a Secret Tory MP, by The Secret Tory

I had hoped that this book would be funnier than I found it, after some initial amusement; unfortunately, that was tempered by a realisation that it is very difficult, if not well-nigh impossible to satirise the execrable government which Britain has been obliged to suffer under for what seems like eternity. There is plenty of humour, of course, but it is a brand of humour which anyone who doesn’t have a reasonably comprehensive knowledge of recent British politics will find incomprehensible [comparisons with US politics pre-Biden notwithstanding]; I have to confess to struggling myself, to some extent, despite recognising most of the names mentioned [and some of the antics described by real politicians are very possibly verging on the libellous], because I have eschewed mainstream news for a couple of years now — the bungling of the pandemic in Britain was most probably the catalyst [it was a gradual realisation, rather than an overnight decision, but one I haven’t regretted]; so I tend to absorb my knowledge of current affairs somewhat post facto from Facebook [with appropriate discernment, of course] and first-class satire TV programmes [I can’t do with current affairs on Radio 4, I’m afraid] like Have I got News for You, The Mash Report, and the late, lamented Mock the Week. As for the identity of the author: I’m not hazarding any guesses, because the field is wide open, I feel; it could be a bona fide satirist [if there is such a thing?], but it could just as easily be a disaffected Tory [the numbers are growing, thankfully] as a militant non-Tory. Watch this space, I suppose! The paperback I read was published in 2023 [2022] by Mudlark, HarperCollinsPublishers, London, ISBN 978-0-0085-3520–9.

Wisdom of the Ancients, by Neil Oliver

Neil Oliver is the luxuriantly-haired archaeologist with the beguiling Scottish accent who has graced many a BBC history documentary. This is his third book, and it has an ambitious remit, given the length of humanity’s history, but he accommodates this by packaging it in twelve relatively short and easily comprehended chapters dealing with topics which are either tangible: Earth, House, Tenants; or more personal, and therefore subjective, such as Memory, Reaching, Heroes. He is clearly scientific and, to some extent, utilitarian, but not to the exclusion of an appreciation of aesthetic values, and it doesn’t preclude him from considering how humanity has always yearned for something beyond itself, giving rise to the plethora of religions & spiritual beliefs with which we seek to comfort ourselves about the inevitability of our limited life-spans. Something which always intrigues me is how different our society; fractured as it is; could have developed if the earliest hunter-gatherers had either not created the concept of property, or had eschewed it, choosing instead to share resources amicably — Oliver gives us the known evidence, of course. Religion is examined, inevitably, and it is interesting how the etymology of language can play such a large part, notwithstanding superstition: “Adam is from the Hebrew adamah, which is the ground — specifically the flesh-pink clay. … The root of ‘human’, and therefore Homo, is the proto-Indo-European dhghomon, meaning ‘earthly being’”. There are several more points I could have signalled, but I heartily recommend, if you are as interested in our evolution from the various vestigial flavours of hominid as I am, that you read this engaging & informative book. The paperback I read was published in 2022 by Penguin, [2020, Transworld Publishers, London], ISBN 978-1-5291-7678-0.

Don’t Laugh, It’ll Only Encourage Her, by Daisy May Cooper

If you aren’t perturbed by ripe language, and you like your humour scatological, there’s a good chance that you’ll enjoy this book, even if you’ve never heard of the author. As it is, I have, and despite never having watched her best known work to date on television, I find her an engaging character, who doesn’t appear in the slightest concerned that she might not have a fashion model’s physique, and excels as a team captain on a riotous television panel show: a reboot of the successful Never Mind The Buzzcocks [a music industry in-joke]. This book is, for the most part, a combination of earthy humour and heart-warming determination to succeed as an actor, against all the odds which nearly all but the most well-connected aspirant actors have to face. The stories of her childhood, with her unshakeable conviction that she must be an actor, and early auditions, after actually succeeding in gaining entrance to the prestigious RADA in London, are almost too outlandish to be true, but it’s a well-known fact that life has an exasperating way of doing its utmost to screw up the best-laid plans. Her parents, who were a mixture of genuine encouragement and oddball uselessness, are still alive, and she says she now has a good relationship with them; probably against the odds, it has to be said. As I said, I’ve never watched This Country, which also features her brother Charlie, who plays her cousin, Kurtan: the concept of two probably intellectually-challenged west-country losers has never appealed to me, but it has gained a loyal [probably predominantly young] following, and it is all credit to her & Charlie that they fought so hard against inevitable indifference or outright incomprehension, to bring their project to fruition. I struggled to read the handwriting on some of the reproduced scripts; again, not really my ‘cup of tea’; but that is only a minor quibble: I wish her every success. The paperback I read was published in 2022, by Penguin Books, [2021, Penguin Michael Joseph, London], ISBN 978-1-4059-4922-4.

When Will There Be Good News?, by Kate Atkinson

Jackson Brodie has moved on; unfortunately for him, he still isn’t sure he’s where he wants to be, and the quest to determine whether his latest ex-wife’s young son is his or not takes a very problematic, and painful, turn. The reader could be forgiven for thinking [without reading the rear cover blurb, which I generally avoid] that this isn’t a Jackson Brodie novel, because he isn’t introduced until well into the narrative. He inadvertently finds himself in Edinburgh, where a young female GP has gone missing, much to the distress of the sixteen-year old [but who looks younger] babyminder-cum-au pair, Regina, aka Reggie, who dotes on the baby and regards her employer almost as a surrogate mother. As this situation develops, Brodie again encounters his almost-love interest from the previous story, One Good Turn, who has also moved on: somewhat incredibly, given her previous aversion, she is now married, to a genial Irish widower, who is an accomplished surgeon. Chief Inspector Louise Monroe is, however, starting to feel itchy in her new-found middle-class comfort zone, and when Jackson Brodie again rears his maddeningly attractive head, he rings all the wrong bells for her. Once again, this author weaves a deliciously complex plot, constantly metaphorically wrong-footing the reader, by introducing characters & action which are only gradually explained as the story develops. It all works out; to some degree better for some characters rather than all, but then again, a happy ending all round would probably seem trite & contrived anyway. I look forward to reading more of Jackson Brodie’s exploits, if we are to be so privileged. The paperback I read was published in 2009 by Black Swan, [2008, Doubleday, a division of Transworld Publishers, London], ISBN 978-0-5527-7245-7.

Book Reviews

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Anthology #23

The Blackbriar Genesis, by Simon Gervais

This author has a background in the sort of ‘security’ operations which are undertaken in this book, which is another characteristically gung-ho example of America protecting itself against its multifarious enemies and, in the process, contributing to the protection of the so-called “free world”. It is set in “the Jason Bourne universe”, so we should expect the operatives working for this new undercover, and easily officially deniable, security asset, to be supremely capable, although Bourne himself doesn’t appear. Treadstone, the agency which produced [not entirely figuratively] Jason Bourne, played very convincingly by Matt Damon in the films, has now become more or less legitimate, so there is evidently a need for a new, ultra-covert agency, which could assassinate persons deemed as a threat, with impunity, and almost limitless resources & financial backing. This time, the actually very plausible threat is coming from an association between the Russians [always a good standby] and the Mexican drug cartels who have, almost incredibly, managed to park their traditional animosity, to work together. If this had produced direct action, that might have been easy enough to counteract, given sufficient firepower, but the threat here is a psychological one: harnessing a social media conglomerate, which is able to manipulate gullible Americans’ opinions and sow discord & disharmony, causing social unrest and possibly even panic, eventually destroying the fabric of American society: Facebook, anyone? Aside from the almost laughable invulnerability of the two protagonists [one male and one female: will they or won’t they? Not telling] the tension is maintained by almost constant action, and the outcome is fairly predictable, but if you like all-action stories, this is a decent read. The paperback I read was published in 2023 [2022] by Head of Zeus [USA, 2022, G. P. Putnam’s Sons], ISBN 978-1-8032-8598–6.

Rage of the Assassin, by Edward Marston

I know I have read at least one other book by this author; in the multitudinous Railway Detective series [not the only series by this prolific author with many entries]; but I neglected to review it/them: apologies for the oversight. This is an entry in the Bow Street Rivals series, and it is set, presumably like all the others, in the early 19th century in England, when an official and, to some extent, regulated police force had been established. The eponymous rivals are two Bow Street Runners and twin brothers, who have taken it upon themselves to investigate crimes which the individually officious & oafish, and less oafish & not very bright policemen are unwilling and/or incapable of investigating themselves: needless to say, their rivals always solve the cases, leaving the coppers with figurative egg on their faces. Here, a prominent but also controversial Member of Parliament is murdered at the stage door of a London theatre, when a beautiful & successful actress is emerging, under the protection of one of the twins, who also happens to be her secret lover. The Runners believe the murder was a bungled attempt on the life of the Prince Regent, who had, inauspiciously, chosen that evening to try and approach the actress with an amorous proposition; this theory is actually suggested by Paul Skillen, one of the brothers, but he soon retracts that, after he is approached by a lower-class friend of the MP, from his home constituency in the Midlands, who was a leading member of the MP’s group campaigning for an extension of the voting franchise to working people. Needless to say, the MP had enemies among the ‘Establishment’ in parliament, but the brothers have to tread carefully, before accusing one of those, and the dead MP’s older brother is distinctly hostile towards the brothers. A good plot, and well developed, so this is an engaging read. The paperback I read was published in 2021 [2020] by Allison & Busby Limited, London, ISBN 978-0-7490-2644-8.

The Third Nero, by Lindsey Davis

A novel such as this, set in the Rome of the first century AD should, of necessity, be based on established history, as far as possible, if it isn’t set in an alternate timeline. There are four other novels in this series, featuring the character Flavia Albia, as well as many other books which, from their titles, are historical in content, so one has to assume that this author has done the appropriate amount of research: there is no author bio to give any indication of this, however. Some of the character names are well known; Domitian [the current emperor], and Nero, to name but two, but some of the other character names vary in degrees of plausibility: in fact, occasionally, I wondered if she had borrowed, very possibly knowingly, of course, from Up Pompeii, or Carry on Cleo! The premise here is that the protagonist, Flavia Albia, who originates from Britain, is “licensed to make enquiries” and to “carry out work for people who need answers”. This might seem somewhat far-fetched in such a patriarchal society as ancient Rome, but I am not well enough informed to be able to support that assertion, so I will have to assume that Davis knows her facts. Nero has been dead for some years, but a significant section of Roman society is unwilling to accept this; notwithstanding Nero’s unsuitability as a leader; and the current emperor, Domitian, is not universally loved, so when not one, but three men who claim, or for whom it is claimed, that they are Nero, either reborn or miraculously survived, there could be many who would follow him. The first two have already been dispatched, terminally, but the third is still somewhere, whereabouts unknown, so Flavia Albia is engaged to assist in the hunt for him. Overall, the narrative develops well, told first person in a modern, conversational style, which works, but my only reservation, probably unavoidable in fairness, was the sheer number of different characters whose names needed to be remembered; there is a character list, albeit not comprehensive, and a map of the relevant area at the front of the book. Other than that, I enjoyed it. The paperback I read was published in 2017, by Hodder & Stoughton, London, ISBN 978-1-4736-1345-4.

One Good Turn, by Kate Atkinson

Once again, Kate Atkinson has delivered a cracking mystery, constructed in a similar way to her previous book, Case Histories, featuring the same protagonist, Jackson Brodie. He is still with his actress lover, Julia, who refuses to consider them a couple, to Jackson’s frustration, his being of a more traditionalist mindset. They are in Edinburgh, for the Fringe Festival, for which Julia is appearing in a rather [even for the Fringe] avant garde theatrical production, for which the players are required to wear sackcloth & ashes. The event which causes the lives of several characters to become entwined & overlapping is a relatively mundane, albeit violent, incidence of road rage, when a rented car being driven by a man using a false name has to stop suddenly to avoid running over a careless pedestrian, and it is driven into by a thug who then proceeds to attack the driver with a baseball bat, before being temporarily incapacitated by the laptop bag, containing a laptop, impulsively thrown by the owner, a mild-mannered author, who also has a false name, albeit a nom de plume. Jackson witnesses this incident, but after reassuring the laptop thrower, now in a state of some anxiety, he decides to leave the scene and refrain from speaking to the police. After this, however, things get very weird very quickly. There is a murder but the victim is misidentified, and Jackson finds the body of a dead woman in the sea by a breakwater; and that’s only the beginning! Along the way, Jackson flirts with the idea, but not the reality of a romantic liaison, with a female detective who thinks he is somehow involved with the ongoing situation; later, he starts to wonder if he should have actually enabled his impulses. The ending is nicely wrapped up, but there is a final ambiguous twist which is very well masked, so this author is now on my ‘must read’ list. The paperback I read was published in 2007 by Black Swan, [2006, Doubleday, a division of Transworld Publishers, London], ISBN 978-0-5527-7244-0.

Book Reviews

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Anthology #22

Super-Infinfite, by Katherine Rundell

This is, to borrow from its title, and Donne’s own evident penchant for this prefix, a super-erudite biography of a man of whom many will have heard, but very probably without knowing whence; the erudition does occasionally give rise to some slightly impenetrable prose, however. That said, I learned as much as I will probably ever need to know about this very complex late sixteenth and early seventeenth century character. The subtitle of the book is The Transformations of John Donne, which is an indication of how complex he was, as a result of his almost constant self-refashioning. Many will know the famous quote correctly attributed to him: “No man is an island…”, but very likely little else [guilty]. He was a contemporary of Shakespeare, but there is no evidence that they met. His writing covered several genres, but he is best known for his poetry and his later sermons as a Protestant [but ex-Catholic] Minister, given that he was a devout man in an age of expected & enforced devotion, but they could be controversial; he was obsessed with death, in an age when life could be short & uncertain, and occasionally, dangerously, mused on suicide: he even suggested that Christ’s death could be interpreted as suicide, and in a way, he could be seen as a precursor of the modern Dignity in Dying movement. The book is well structured, being mostly chronological, and there are several excerpts from his written work, and some monochrome reproductions of portraits and other useful images. Despite my minor reservation, this is not a ‘dry-as-dust’ literary tome, so I can recommend it as an introduction to one of England’s best Renaissance writers. The paperback I read was published in 2023 [2022] by Faber & Faber Ltd., London, ISBN 978-0-5713-4592–2.

The Burial Circle, by Kate Ellis

This book immediately succeeds one which I reviewed very recently: Dead Man’s Lane, and here, the author uses the same method of interspersing the current action with a historical narrative; this time, the late nineteenth century and, apart from the first instance, all the rest are presented in the form of diary entries by a physician who has transplanted himself & his wife from London to a small Devonshire village. The title refers to a practice which was common in earlier times, when people were so poor that they literally could not afford to bury their family members and, with early death & child mortality being so much more prevalent than now, this was a real problem; so people, especially those of a charitable nature, would group together and contribute a small amount regularly into a fund which could be drawn upon on demand, to facilitate burials. However, this name could also have a more sinister meaning, whereby people could be targeted for death, and subsequent burial, as happened in Doctor Christopher Crukshank’s time. In the present, some human bones are discovered after a tree is blown down on a farm belonging to the parents of one of DI Wesley Peterson’s sergeants. The presence of a red rucksack confirms that these bones are not ancient; in fact, constituting the body of a young female hitch-hiker who vanished twelve years previously. The girl’s connections still resonate in the area, and an old property provides the connection with the events of more than one hundred years earlier. This is another well-crafted murder mystery from this author, and the tension continues right up to the end. The paperback I read was published in 2020 by Piatkus, ISBN 978-0-3494-1832-2.

Case Histories, by Kate Atkinson

Jackson Brodie is a private investigator, of Scottish ancestry, who was previously an Inspector in the West Yorkshire police; before that, he was in the army. He has also been brought to television, in the person of Jason Isaacs; I haven’t had the opportunity to investigate [sorry] yet, but I intend to rectify that presently. It is presumably normal for PIs to work on more than one case at once; as indeed do the regular police; and this is how this book has been presented, with three different case histories vying for Brodie’s attention, and one other, which is interwoven, without any obvious immediate relevance: that is provided before the end, however, never fear. Four-year-old Olivia vanishes without trace in 1970, and the other three daughters of clearly less than perfect parents, studious Sylvia, flirty Julia, and frumpy Amelia, are left to cope in their own ways. In 1994, the beloved younger daughter, Laura, of a solicitor, Theo, is murdered in her father’s office premises in a seemingly random knife attack. An eighteen-year-old farmer’s wife has a breakdown and cleaves her husband’s head open with an axe, in 1979. Then there is Caroline: who, or what, is she? Somehow, Brodie manages to juggle these cases, contending with a tooth, badly in need of root canal treatment, and his suffering is exacerbated, rather than helped, by the occasional assault upon his person, in the course of his investigations, whose progress is presented in a fragmented and somewhat random sequence, but this all contributes to a clever resolution which is only apparent once any details which were omitted in earlier chapters are given. Brodie is a human and ethical character, so I will look out for other material from this author. The paperback I read was published in 2005, by Black Swan, [2004, Doubleday] a division of Transworld Publishers, London, ISBN 978-0-5527-7243-7.

Rumpole at Christmas, by John Mortimer

Although it’s too early yet, IMHO, to be thinking about Christmas, I regarded the opportunity to acquaint myself with this character, albeit in a collection of festive season-themed short stories, as too good to miss. I knew of Rumpole already, of course, and have watched at least the odd one or two excellent television adaptations of the stories, starring the marvellously well cast Leo McKern in the title rôle, but I had never hitherto read any of the source material. Despite being quite short, these stories certainly gave a hint of the dry wit & humour evident in this character, shown in his first-person narration. There are seven stories, in which our hero tries to make the best of a holiday which doesn’t inspire him with peace and goodwill to all men, unless he can spend it quietly at home in his London apartment, with his wife, known [presumably, only to himself] as She Who Must Be Obeyed; otherwise Hilda; when they open their regular & unchanging presents to each other, eat the traditional Christmas lunch, and try to avoid falling asleep in front of the queen’s speech. In these stories, some of which see him in the middle of cases at The Old Bailey, he is variously consigned to old school friends of Hilda, or to some betterment establishment designed to help him become a slimmer version of his current, well padded self. If he isn’t directly involved with a crime while ‘on holiday’, he encounters a personage who throws light on a brief, but the characteristic humour is ever present, and these are a joy to read: I look forward to finding a full-length story, should that be possible. The hardback I read was published in 2009 by Viking, Penguin Books Ltd., ISBN 978-0-6709-1791-4.

Book Reviews

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Anthology #21

The Winter Fortress, by Neal Bascomb

This American author has written a clearly thoroughly well-researched and non-partisan account of the efforts by the Norwegians, subsequent to their invasion & subjugation by Germany, to resist this in any way possible, but specifically, to prevent Germany acquiring enough ‘heavy water’ to take nuclear research to a sufficiently advanced stage to construct or even, unthinkably, use, an atomic bomb to end World War Two decisively in Germany’s favour. This essential raw material was produced primarily at a Norsk Hydro plant at a place called Vemork, which was commandeered by Germany [Bascomb uses the convention many others do, of conflating Germany with “the Nazis”, which was not always the case], although many of the essential staff were Norwegian, most of whom were prepared to risk their lives to engage in acts of sabotage to hinder the Germans’ efforts, and the Norwegians were assisted to a great extent by Britain and, latterly, in the form of not always advisable or well-targeted bombing raids, the Americans. The title refers to Vemork, so it is a slight misnomer, because not all of the action took place in winter, although a significant portion did, with associated danger & privations for the saboteurs, albeit they were well acclimatised to their own country. History informs us that they succeeded, but how they did is the subject of this inspiring book; war is irrevocably evil, but removal of a brutal conquering military power has to be seen as essential. The paperback I read was published in 2017 [2016] by Head of Zeus Ltd., London [2016, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, USA], ISBN 978-1-7849-7705–4.

The English Führer, by Rory Clements

This novel is, coincidentally [I know synchronicitously is not a valid word, but it should be, because synchronously doesn’t convey the same sense of synchronicity] a successor to the one reviewed above, because it follows it very closely in timescale; i.e.: immediately after the end of World War Two, and in some areas of activity, hostilities haven’t ceased. To anyone with a reasonable knowledge of early twentieth century British history, the title refers to the putative British [i.e.: not specifically English, although he was] Führer: Sir Oswald Mosley. He would have strenuously abjured the sobriquet because, notwithstanding his prewar associations with and, to a certain extent, admiration of the German National Socialist dictatorship, he always asserted that his fascism was modelled on the Italian version [for details, please see my book Black Shirt and Smoking Beagles]. Without wishing to spoil the plot, Mosley does have a rôle to play in the book, but is it to him that the title refers? The protagonist is Tom Wilde, a half-American ex-OSS [Office of Strategic Services: the precursor of the CIA] officer who lives in Cambridge [England] with his British wife. A small village has been quarantined, following an outbreak of an unspecified plague [here there is also a parallel with the recent influenza pandemic], and it quickly becomes apparent to the British security services that this could constitute the start of an attack on the British government & people, but by whom, and with what long-term object? The tension is very well cultivated by this relatively prolific [13 other novels] British author, and the prevalent paranoia is well conveyed, so I would be very willing to read more of his material. The paperback I read was published in 2023 by ZAFFRE, an imprint of Bonnier Books UK, London, ISBN 978-1-8041-8110-2.

The Heron’s Cry, by Ann Cleeves

Once again [as ever, in fact] Ann Cleeves builds a narrative which seems to progress very slowly, deceptively so, but the characters are so easy to identify with, that my interest never lagged, notwithstanding the frustration of the police protagonist with his perceived inability to get a real handle on the case. This is a Matthew Venn story, in the Two Rivers series: the previous one, The Long Call [which is a reference to the cry of a gull, so perhaps that will be the pattern for this series] has been televised, like so many of the Vera series, but these are located in the lovely north Devon setting of Barnstaple and its environs; the two rivers referred to are the Taw & the Torridge. As in the previous story, Matthew’s husband Jonathan is closely connected with the action; not implausible as the community in which most of it takes place is quite small, and Matthew’s sergeant, Jen Rafferty, is also friendly with another character who is directly involved. A man who was previously a medical professional is murdered: stabbed in the neck with a shard of glass, hand-blown by another one of the characters, his daughter, Eve, and he is found in her workshop. The man, Nigel Yeo, was running a patients’ action group, North Devon Patients Together, and he had recently taken up the case, on behalf of the family, of a young man who committed suicide after being released from protective custody, because he was deemed to be well enough to manage on his own. There is no clear indication of the identity of the murderer until very near the end, so this is another very cleverly constructed story and, thankfully [for me, anyway!] there is a definite conclusion, with no loose ends. The hardback I read was published in 2021, by Macmillan, an imprint of Pan Macmillan, ISBN 978-1-5098-8968-6.

Maigret in New York, by Georges Simenon

I found this a rather frustrating read, and I seem to remember that the other Maigret stories I have read have left me feeling the same way [which is a shame, because he is actually quite a likeable character], because we are told regularly, and in some detail, how our hero feels at any given time, but the plot tends to be poorly elucidated: in this one, a one-sided transatlantic telephone conversation very near the end is supposed to tell us what the story is all about, but some necessary information is missing, and we are supposed to fill the rest in for ourselves, from Maigret’s questions and his sometimes emotional responses. As the title suggests, Maigret, despite having now retired from the Police Judiciare in Paris to Meung sur Loire, is persuaded to go by ship to New York, by a young Frenchman who fears for the safety of his father, who has lived there most of his life. When Maigret arrives, there are attempts at misdirection, and it is difficult to perceive when the truth of the affair becomes clear to him, but at some stage it does, although there are two deaths in the process. The young man’s father is alive & well, but there is a miasma of lies & deceit surrounding him, and it is this which Maigret has to penetrate if he is to ascertain why the young man was so concerned, enough to persuade a detective of the status & reputation of the former Chief Inspector Maigret to leave his comfortable retirement for an unknown country where he barely speaks the language. He is very glad to return home, despite his wife’s disappointment at not being brought a souvenir! The paperback I read, translated by Linda Coverdale, was published in 2016 by Penguin [1947, Presses de la Cité], ISBN 978-0-2412-0636-2.

Book Reviews

Photo by Simon Wilkes on Unsplash

Anthology #20

Act of Oblivion, by Robert Harris

Robert Harris is a master at creating a historical novel, and they are always demonstrably well researched. This one is no exception, and despite being comparatively long for a paperback [although I have recently seen in the library some unfeasibly long paperbacks, more like a house brick in size, and weight!], it is not a daunting prospect. The title of the book refers to a law which was introduced by parliament, after the previous king’s son, also named Charles, has been invited to return from mainland Europe to assume the position of king, rendering extinguished the republic instigated, following the English Civil War, and administered by the now deceased Oliver Cromwell, and all who had taken up arms against the previous monarch were to be pardoned, except the regicides: those who had direct involvement in the trial & execution of Charles Stuart, and were required to surrender themselves for judgment, which in reality meant almost certain horrific & brutal execution. This is the story of two such regicides, who were pursued across the still relatively young colony of New England, by a fictitious character created by Harris, but who could, plausibly, have existed, albeit perhaps not with this name, Richard Nayler; as Harris says in his Author’s note: “…you cannot sustain a [real] manhunt without a manhunter—but whoever he was, his identity is lost to history.” Of course, Nayler willingly ignores the fact which is painfully obvious to many: those who are not blinded by sycophantic love of a monarch, reputedly ordained by their god, that Charles the son is a self-centred hedonist. I thoroughly enjoyed this story, notwithstanding my republican sentiments; there were no heroes in this episode: Cromwell was a despicable character, not a worthy governor of Britain, and both sides allowed their religion to unreasonably influence their decision-making. The paperback I read was published in 2023 by Penguin Books, [2022, Hutchinson Heinemann], ISBN 978-1-5291-6032–1.

55, by James Delargy

This first-time author has taken a relatively simple idea; if never used before, somewhere, I would be surprised; and spun it into a full-length novel. As well as the progression of the narrative, which I will describe presently, he intersperses the chapters of current action with a developing backstory for at least two of the main characters, and this eventually throws light on the motivation of the criminal. The premise of the story is that one man staggers into a small, outback police station in western Australia, showing some minor injuries, and claiming to have been abducted, with a view to being murdered, but managed to escape. After preliminaries, he is taken to the local hotel, pending enquiries. Then, another man staggers into the same police station with similar injuries, telling an identical story; meantime, the first supposed victim has absconded, triggering a state-wide search, and necessitating the involvement of an erstwhile colleague of the protagonist, still a sergeant, who is now an Inspector. Unfortunately, there is animus between the two men, which is explained both in the current action and the developing backstory. Overall, this is a reasonable story [and it is recommended for fans of a recent TV production called The Dry, which didn’t appeal to me], but some of the delays caused by sheer stupidity are a trifle irritating, and my eyebrows raised more than once at a questionably-used adjective; but that aside, it’s not a bad modern adventure yarn. The paperback I read was published in 2019 by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd., London, ISBN 978-1-4711-7755-2.

Too Much, by Tom Allen

This is a painfully honest, but also mostly amusing, memoir from a young [to me, anyway] comedian who has latterly become very popular, initially from his standup comedy routines, but springing from that, hosting & co-hosting duties on some popular British television shows. The unavoidable theme, which he is usually more than ready & willing to reveal in his comedy, is that he is gay, and a lot of the book revolves around his inner conflict about this when he was growing up, leading to feelings of inadequacy and even, occasionally, self-loathing. Thankfully, homosexuality is now largely regarded as nothing shameful in modern Western society: the same cannot be said worldwide, however. He was lucky enough to grow up in a loving home in suburban Bromley, south of London, with parents who supported him and were very happy for him to live at home, even in adulthood, but during the writing of the book, his father died, which was then clearly, and to some extent remains, traumatic. His experience of “coming out” is not recounted here, so this might have been covered in his previous book, No Shame. This book is a succession of chapters about his early career, and his travels to America & Japan, to try and ‘find himself’, and gain some confidence for his work, which he clearly loves. I hesitate to mention any negative assessments of his character, because as stated, he is very honest, which I think is worthy of credit. It’s a fairly slim volume, but an enjoyable read, inspiring some empathy. The paperback I read was published in 2023, by Coronet, [2022, Hodder Studio, an imprint of Hodder & Stoughton], ISBN 978-1-5293-9747-5.

Dead Man’s Lane, by Kate Ellis

I felt sure that I had already reviewed one of this author’s previous books [of which there were 22, in this series, at the time of writing] but, thanks to WordPress’s inexplicable omission of a search by title facility on its user dashboard [the category/tag search facility is very cumbersome] I can’t include a link for the interested reader. The protagonist character of Detective Inspector Wesley Peterson of Devon [UK] police is familiar to me, so I know I have encountered him before. This story is a cleverly constructed narrative involving murder [of course] and characters assuming multiple identities, and/or not being who they seem to be, so it was not obvious to me who the perpetrator was until the very end, which is a compliment worthy of a murder mystery plotter of the calibre of the doyenne of this genre, Agatha Christie. Interwoven with the present-day action are diary entries from the 17th century, written by a man who came from London, at the time of the Great Fire [1666] to live at the eponymous address, and the events of that time cast a shadow over the future, when the property and its environs are potentially being developed as a leisure facility; characters who are involved in this project are very closely associated with the murders; one of them, the architectural consultant, is a former romantic interest of DI Peterson, so he has to tread very carefully, to avoid upsetting his wife. I have no hesitation in recommending this book, and author, to lovers of murder mysteries, especially those with an archaeology connection [cf. Elly Griffiths]. The paperback I read was published in 2019 by Piatkus, ISBN 978-0-3494-1828-5.