A Joyful Week for Some.

 

We met up with some friends at Minsmere for a walk and a picnic. The sky was overcast, the sea was a muddy brown, the tide was in but the day warm enough  to light  a glow in us. We have not seen our friends or many others for some time (Isn’t your other friend in Australia...Ed?) and it did feel good just to chat!
I had my first real meeting of the Avid Crime Readers yesterday since 2020 and again I enjoyed the experience of being with people.  As I’m sure you can guess, we did not spend much of the time discussing the book. I’m certain I made some of the points below but again it was good just to talk, face to un-masked face. In preparation for our email meeting I had set out a few notes. You may be interested - yes you at the back!
Ian Rankin - In a House of Lies. 2018
Back in the game again. It's like a big cup of tea and a slice of chocolate cake! Straight  into the tapestry of the plot,  first the body, then Siobhan, the new team, Foxy and finally the wiley coyote himself, Rebus. As prickly as a pear and obscure as a dreek Sunday afternoon in February on Carlton Hill.
The plot developed  with sufficient complexity to hold my attention and provide  enjoyment. I'm not sure it would be the same for a first time buyer. However, there is a quality to the description of people and places that fills expectations from Rankin. A convoluted affair but life is seldom pure and never simple. That would be an apt thing to chisel onto Rebus's headstone. The characters have developed, Shiv and Foxy heading uncomfortably to middle age and John wheezing his way down the coughing road to that headstone. The supporting cast is well drawn with the 'Chugalugs' and Big Ger yet again  sufficiently believable that you could draw twirly black mustaches on them and get away with it. The reveal(s) and resolutions are just, immoral,  or amoral as you wish but they gave a satisfactory ending to a wet Sunday afternoon. Now where is that chocolate cake?

(Can I congratulate you, things seem to be on the up. The corvid business has served you well...Ed.)
But not many others and mind you don’t get your feet wet in that downpour!

Crime and Publishment

 I might have mentioned before that I enjoy a good thriller and at this time sinking into a tale of murder, mystery and mayhem offers a measure of reassurance that all is well with the world. 

 I have recently finished 'A Simple Story' by Leonardo Sciascia. Just 40 pages of pure joy. It is a tale of Sicily that manges to capture the land, the language, criminality and society without descending into excess or cliche. Andrea Camilleri has made a great job of writing about ordinary decent criminals with that backdrop. Sciascia nails it for ordinary decent organised criminals,  and how the psychology of that thing of theirs denatures society just as the sulphurous atmosphere of the island corrodes the copper pans in a kitchen. Great stuff. Off you go then, order it from your local library!

Light Houses.

I may have mentioned before - I belong to a book group. We read crime novels. During this period of LockJaw we read the books as best we may and comment by email. Not the same but hey all things change.

The latest offering by M L Stedman - The Light Between Oceans, is not the usual. While Rosie, our convenor (our Leader, our Great Helmsperson, the Sun in our Hearts) avoids the cruder shootemups she uses the Library stock and this sadly puts limits on what she can offer us and what we may want to read and discuss. It was a real breath of fresh air!

Setting the scene with the body of a dead man, and a live baby in a boat started the plot at a high level. The move back in time to 1918 and the aftermath of war was a deft sharpening of the plot, obviously the marriage of Tom to Isobel and the subsequent miscariage refined my interest. The plot certainly thickened with at least one more miscariage and stillbirth. I couldn’t at that point make up my mind that the characters were made deliberately wooden or just not fully drawn. The story developed well, I feel, to fill them out and the overall setting of the lighthouse appealed to me. I have been a sucker for an Australian thriller lately. 
Tom and Isabel have both experienced great trauma and that may be the skeleton on which the story hangs but it is also the framework for the horror which Hannah has to face with the loss of a child and husband Frank.  In an interview the author claimed that the  story just emerged and I can believe that. The slow pace of its development was one of the aspects I found attractive. She claims they evolved as  “they were who they were, they did what they did, and those actions carried with them certain consequences.”  A key phrase that defined the story  was   ...Love pulled out of shape…  The author said that  towards the end she realised that she  was pulling punches where Tom was concerned, and she had to stop protecting him from his fate. I thought the treatment of the post 1918 world and the difficulty of communication physically and emotionally woven through the telling was a joy. Very, very different from previous suggestions but I found it very satisfying. I have already recommended it to Messers. All and  Sundry.

I’ve been reading reviews as a defense against the idea that this covid stuff might go on for ages. Suggestions I picked up from  NYRB include Leonardo Sciascia’s Day of the Owl, Jean-Patrick Manchette’s Fatale. Also Sand, by the German writer Wolfgang Hernndorf. I’ve really enjoyed Sciascia’s stories  and intrigues in the past so I might look them up!

The NYRB review also rated Dorothy B. Hughes on a par with Patricia Highsmith and Raymond Chandler and suggested - In a Lonely Place  and  The Expendable Man. Both sound good.

(Lots of reading then, not much writing...Ed)

Buckets and Books and Urns.

A villager confessed to me recently, on his election at the local urns,  that it was one of the things that he could now tick off on his Bucket List.  I'm not sure that I have ever had such a thing but if I did it is now, much reduced, to a Book List. Living the dream one book at a time.

To my eternal shame it is the first time I have ever voted for the blue corner. It did contribute to preventing the black shorts getting in. My reasoning was that politics is the art of the possible and it is possible to vote against. The English are not very good at doing that.
It seems we are going to miss the opportunity to obtain a postal vote in the forthcoming Europole because the  local Gauleiters have bollixed getting the postal vote out in reasonable time! And now for something completely different:-

A calming little picture!

Sue Grafton

I'm not too sure when we ran across the Kinsey Millhone PI novels, or indeed, who we have to thank for pointing them out to us. However, they have been a pleasure and we have read most of Sue Grafton's output about the hard boiled female detective. The series is titled from -  A is for Alibi  to - X and I would recommend them to any addicts of  crime fiction especially the US West Coast before the mobile phone... I was looking for the last volume of her output, rumoured to be titled Z is for Zero for an Xmas present when I saw the paperback for the Y novel branded as the last ever  Kinsey Millhonecase. Sue died last year and of course I missed it like I miss so much. I was pretty sure that I had met her, (at Murder One ?) and thumbing through the shelves found this.

I'm so glad that authors continue to tell us stories and signposters like Elaine, as I think it was, gently point us in the direction of good story tellers!

Reading again

Mothering Law’s Sayings - 99 in a series
“All this reading will turn your brain into Train Oil.”
How this comes about or what the underlying biochemical process is I have no idea.
Nor have I the foggiest what is the chemical composition of Train Oil. Perhaps we could direct the research Labs of BP enterprises to investigate. They may know one or two chaps at Alpha Labs, they are deep in the territory of protein folding. Now where was I, steep tin territory...Oh yes, Australia!
I noted that on the On the Java Ridge, by Jock Serong  won a prize for a thriller “in which no woman is beaten, stalked, sexually exploited, raped or murdered”. Trying my local library for this volume I came across an electronic copy of The rules of Backyard Cricket,  an earlier book by the same author. Intriguing book very twisty plot  and had me reading it at 9.45 to the bitter end  in my pjs (Well past your bedtime I surmise...Ed?) a.m. before my porridge as it happens.
Maybe a gift for the (Sports) man in your life?  (other volumes and gifts are available ...Ed!)

Small Orchards of Time and Space

The man is back with Book of the Week.

Raja Shehadeh - Where the line is drawn.

We were discussing time at the dinner table tonight and I thought I would tap into book of the week on the beeb. Almost the first phrase, above, drew me in. Give it a go!

Camino Del Libros

 (Do you not think a spoiler alert would be a kindness at this point...Ed)

Prospective readers who may believe that the 'Butler done it' should visit an optician and a doctor now!

I enjoyed being set up to follow the finely plotted heist only to see the rapid degeneration of the theft into a murderous farce. No such thing as the perfect crime and criminals have feet of clay and hearts of stone. For all their technical majesty and resources the Federal Bureau of Ineptitude were unable to make the closure of a conviction in the face of 'no comment'. So it is up to the plucky and no doubt delightful insurance investigator to pull the cat or rather the Gatsby out of the (swag) bag.
I found it a ripping good yarn and a relaxing way to cope with the recent drought and heat wave.
My only complaint, and this is not damming with faint praise, is that I did not like the ending. It was tricky and neat and all things Grisham. BUT far too easy an ending for Bruce who had committed the most heinous of crimes. In his corner you might claim that he is not a genocidal maniac a mass murderer, rapist or child molester, fair enough. He did however "traffic in stolen books". It is not a defence or plea in mitigation that no books were harmed in the process. The august and wealthy educational institution could stand the hit and the insurance company would, no doubt, collectivise their losses.
 The blackguard was a party to the stealing of the books!
Hanging, drawing and quartering are not enough.
But then I always was a tender-hearted liberal!

A Snow Dog's Life

World book day allegedly. Robert Macfarlane has an interesting thought -

Life is books - Life is a beech - haven't we been here before - La vida es un(a) haya

In the meantime here is a wee fella we found on our patch the other day.

(Looks like a dog to me ... Ed)!
Out of the mouths of Babes and Teenagers.

e Baa Gum Books!

Well then it's books!

I've been reading them, e-reading them, listening to them, commenting on them, reading about them in various forms and generally getting on like a pig in muck (Is that not too, how shall we say, agricultural a metaphor... Ed!)
It's earthy and a simile if you must;  moving  on. Your man in the Grauniad has a low opinion of the ebooky thingamyjigs.  However,  since he probably earns a good screw selling dead trees to people who should know better, he may have a point.
I grant you e-books have not:
- Brought about world peace and justice;
- Found a cure for cancer;
- Eradicated poverty and famine at a stroke;
- Brought democracy to Messers All & Sundry;
- Implemented a significant programme of renewable energy;
- Cut our carbon emissions by 90%...
(I think I catch your drift. Could we not take a break, sit down have a cup of tea and show a wee picture by way of  ***INTERMISSION *** ...Ed)

***INTERMISSION ***

If you are interested, and you should be, My Europe is a fine anthology of writing on Europe from Patrician Press. 

I'm sure that when all has come to pass, ourselves included, those that follow will say, mystified:-

"YOU DID WHAT...!?"

Are you reading comfortably?

I read The Waters of Eternal Youth by Donna Leon, the 25th outing for Commissario Brunetti of the Venice Police, last year having  heard a radio interview with her. He  is the protagonist of  her tales of Italian/Venetian coppering and is  without any major domestic traumas in his life or problems with the bottle, the drugs, gee gees, or money. His  only addiction seems to be the works of Latin Historians. I've enjoyed them over the years and when the convenor of our reading group brought this along as our Xmas read I thought I would return and refresh my memory. Place, time, food and all the usual suspects - Paula, Elettra, Vianello, Patta and Scarpa, made this a 'comfort' read. Then I caught myself on! A historical rape offence which was never investigated let alone prosecuted. A murder which was committed to escape any justice for the crime of rape which could not be prosecuted because of the statute of limitations. What is the justification of following up such crimes? Indeed this case produced a further crime by way of concealment. The reason we are given in the fiction is advanced by the grandmother of the child that has been raped. The contessa (two of them at least in this novel) wants to know what happened to her grandchild and is anxious to have some sort of closure on the 'crime', before she dies. A fine play on justice, the law and the vagaries of both. Leon, we agreed in the group, tackles ideas and concerns with some subtlety. She raises debates about  the Vu Cumpra and the New Africans; the problems created by tourism; the effects of climate change; the evils of homelessness and the drug economy! However,  the ending is somewhat schmaltzy. If you like the sun going down on a picture of the wronged and brain damaged 30ish  child reconnecting with the horse of her teenage years in a warm embrace. All brought together by an attractive, empathetic, female, Commissario Claudia, an Olympian dressagist of some repute. (who will be up to no good in the future, I'll be bound...Ed!)
If ever you tire of editing this blog perhaps you could consider this advert for roadsweepers, in Venice, it advises applicants to bring their own water wings!

The Windows of Porto

I have not been posting much recently. In my defense, your honour, I cite a bad back, old age, senility and the general paralysis of the insane. However, I have enjoyed reading a number of books from the comfort of my bed of pain. I have travelled to foreign climes, Portugal since you ask, and enjoyed a family wedding. God, I found myself wishing the couple the best of luck, which is pretty thin gruel when you consider what they will have to deal with, better the fair love of my heart.  It was good too, to catch up with members of Herself's large and welcomming tribe. We rounded off the holiday with a stay in Porto and luckily made it back to Stansted despite the Transportations of O'Ryan.
The books below are, I am assured by my records, those which I have read!

Little Boy Blue - M J Arlidge,
The Harbour Master - Daniel Pembrey
The Three-body Problem - Liu Cixin
Nowhere Girl - Ruth Dugdall
Himself - Jess Kidd
I’m Travelling Alone - Samuel Bjork
The Pledge - Friedrich Durrenmatt

Collinn Farrell is rumoured to be interested

The world, as you may well know, is in a terrible state of chassis. The weather, it being the height of the English Summer, somewhat cold and damp. Phwatt in the name of all that is good and holy is an old man with a bad back meant to do? Well, since you ask, curl up with a good book from Suffolk  Library. 'A man with one of those faces' by Caimh McDonnell. I won't bother you with details of the plot, the finely drawn characters that grace its pages, the wry commentary on youth, sex, drugs and country music or the dreadful state of a mangy Celtic Tiger portrayed therein. Suffice it to say that if you ever see a guard with a Hurley heading your way and your conscience has the least speck upon it run like feck or drop to your knees, extend both arms sideways, and intone 'Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani'.

A second volume has been prepared for your delight 'The day that never comes' which makes it sound like one of those Morse thingies, no offence there Colin, wouldn't want you turning in your grave. What with the other Collinn rumoured to be interested. ( Do we not have to be careful here with M'learned friends? He was buried, wasn't he, not cremated? Is there not an unhealthy proximity betwixt the words grave, rumoured and interested?...Ed)

I have in my hand the finest Hurley ever to smote leather or the large arse of a fecking eejit!
Eat your heart out Bunny McGarry.

That's Oil Folks

You May believe that we have reached the end times because we have been DUPed. You may believe that we are all going to Hell in a Hand Cart because Washington has turned into a dystopian Trumpington, Mr Kim's ICBMs or whatever. I bet  if you  go to sleep worrying about oil, it is   burning too much of it, getting enough of it,  fighting for it,  stealing it or using it on that squeaky bottom bracket. However, the reason we should have night sweats and terrors is that Central Bankers are at a complete loss as to how to decouple the system and environment of financing (low interest rates, QE and its effects) and our addiction to the oily stuff for the economy and anti-squeakyness.
I am alerted to this by the exceedingly informative podcast - Talking Politics- of a Mr Runciman and in particular by a discussion ( the last 15 minutes of the podcast if you are pushed for time) of the book - Oil and the Western Economic  Crisis- by a Ms Helen Thompson. Both I believe hold professorial posts at a nearby university.  Others are available!
Sweet dreams.  

An Englishman in Madrid

Summer Reading facts no. 92 in a series.

Did you know that the above book by Eduardo Mendoza is 9 out of 10 in the top sellers at the LRB  Bookshop?

Remember you read it here first.

What I can't remember though is whatever happened to Gurb?

Indexing we trust? p91

Indexing - now there's a thing.
I bet you haven't given much thought to that while I've been absent from these pages or indeed the pages themselves have been absent. The Grauniad had a nice wee article  on indexing on National Indexing Day by Sam Leith. Undoubtedly a piece of crass propaganda for the Society of Indexers.  We might as well go back to the days of craft guilds, 99 year apprenticeships, permanent indentedness, free beer,  protectionism, pre-brexitism  and so called Trade Unions! It is however very interesting and, of course, contains a 404 for the link to the Society.
Deliberate?
(Do you think we might have an index on this blog? I could knock you up a passable index for a few sovs extra each week. Now we have to take the bairns off on holiday when the schools are out it can be very expensive, and we have been going for over 10 years...Ed)

Expletives -obscene
                  -expressing the negative, p 92

Avid for crime(reading)

I may have mentioned before that I have read without benefit of a book group for many, many years.
However, I joined a small group a few years ago. The advantages are that it is sponsored by a public library which provides a room and about a dozen volumes of the same book each month. Our convenor, a calm and well organised woman (peace and many blessings be upon her) provides us with a wide selection of crime novels  for us to enjoy throughout the year and discuss if we feel so inclined.  The group has men as well as women in it, it does not follow a rigid pattern for contributions, members come and go and we do not have to 'speak up and shame the devil' if we do not wish. Occasionally, we get a stinker usually because a book has been suggested to our group from outside. I always make notes as a commitment to the group and the activity. Here is one from last year.

Mary Higgins Clark - The Lost Years
Notes

Pope finds Thank You note from Jesus. Decides to burn it. Monk feels this is blasphemous. Murder ensues through 5 centuries.
Mariah thinks her dad has found the letter and her mum has killed him. After a bit of twoing and throwing Mariah saves the day, the letter and managed a weak smile as she watched Richard running toward her (Who he? Oh never mind!)... Mariah  felt a sudden peace, a peace that was beyond understanding, fill her being.
Turned out nice again!

HSL High Speed Library

Books, people, time and it's Bliss!
I don't know if any books were harmed in the process of making this short video from the Grauniad.
As Lenin once famously said when he worked at Salford Public Library "You can't have book, Tovarish, unless I stamp on it!"
(I didn't know Vlad was on the council payroll at Salford. Was he there long...Ed?)

As long as it takes to make an omelette.

Bloody Hell

I've just finished 'His Bloody Project' by Graeme Macrae Burnet. A supposed collection of found documents. It has left me with a very strong sense of place, character and society. There is, as described in the Grauniad review ...

...a healthy dose of Kafka as well as Flann O’Brien in Roderick’s account of laboriously gathering seaweed from the shoreline with his father to spread on the fields, then being forced by Lachlan [The Parish Constable] to return it to the sea because they lack the laird’s permission to use his property. When they summon up the courage to seek clarification of the rules that govern their lives, they are told “that a person wishing to consult the regulations could only wish to do so in order to test the limits of the misdemeanours he might commit”. ...

Shades too of Gunn's Green Isle of the Great Deep but the lasting impression I shared with the reviewer was wondering about the reliability of the perspectives that the 'documents' had provided and the other crimes that may have taken place.

(Did Roderick have a poor mouth on him then...Ed?)

I thoroughly enjoyed wading through the misery and misdirection!

Bit of a Larf

Not much recently to give us a chuckle.
Rooting through the tangle of electrons in my interweb reference box I found this link to the GOG (Good Old Grauniad) live session with Naomi Alderman 'interviewing' Margaret Atwood about her new novel 'The Heart Goes Last' on the 2/10/15
(Glad to see we are still at the cutting edge...Ed) As you already know I am a man with a great future behind him.
Anyway the link is here and is also available as a downloadable mpthingy. Very enjoyable.