Splish Splash: An Entertaining Diversion

In a bizarre twist of fate, we suddenly have a (gasp!) outdoor activity aside from Kidwelly Castle in the Llanelli-Carmarthen area. How is it possible? No-one knows. However, if you wish, you can now go paddleboarding, kayaking or rowboating on the Swiss Valley lower reservoir, and it's very pleasant indeed.

There's nothing quite like paddling away on the water and pretending you're in 'The Wind In The Willows' or 'Three Men In A Boat', or even 'To Say Nothing Of The Dog'. Oh, to be drifting along, thinking of luncheons or making it to the next inn... Except, that's not really going to be the case on a reservoir in the twenty-first century! It's still a very pleasant experience, and one which needs to be advertised better as it was very quiet for a day during the school holidays. Surely there must be more paddlers out there? Come on, be brave, people!

It's strange to think how few things there are in this immediate area. There is the aforementioned castle, which is always nice, and then... Well, it's strange. It might be partly due to the local apathy, where no-one ever seems to turn out for anything. We need more things which should appeal to locals and tourists alike. We could convert the old railway into a mine train experience... And it's not too late to make up the legend of the Swiss Valley monster, last seen menacing seagulls with a tickling stick and using popup speed cameras to make up its income in the quiet weeks.

Anyone for a paddle? Off to the reservoir with you! It's a pretty place, with those trees and the tranquil waters, and the oddly absent comedic pirates and sharks. It's nice to remember how to row, get caught up in trees, and be held hostage by fishermen intent on ransoming you for as many free maths lessons as can be unreasonably extorted.

Go ahead, have some watery fun, and maybe a coffee and a piece of cake. Go and mess about on the water.

O.

Ten Inarguably Good Novels?

'A Tale Of Two Cities' by Charles Dickens (1859)

'The Sign Of The Four' by Arthur Conan Doyle (1890)

'Leave It To Psmith' by PG Wodehouse (1923)

'Gaudy Night' by Dorothy L Sayers (1935)

'We Didn't Mean To Go To Sea' by Arthur Ransome (1937)

'Three Hearts And Three Lions' by Poul Anderson (1961)

'The Seven-Per-Cent Solution' by Nicholas Meyer (1974)

'Gateway' by Frederik Pohl (1977)

'Bridge Of Birds' by Barry Hughart (1984)

'To Say Nothing Of The Dog' by Connie Willis (1997)

This feels much more inarguable as a list than the corresponding one for movies. There really isn't a weak book in there, except possibly 'A Tale Of Two Cities' for it being set in such a different time for prose. However, it's still brilliant.

O.

PS Anyone have any additional ideas? 

Ten Unimpeachably Good Movies?

I was trying to think of ten inarguably good movies that you could show any friend without worrying overly about whether they will like them. What do you think?

'The 39 Steps' (1935)

'The Philadelphia Story' (1940)

'The African Queen' (1951)

'Rear Window' (1954)

'Cat Ballou' (1965)

'The Taking Of Pelham 123' (1974)

'Jaws' (1975)

'Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan' (1982)

'Stranger Than Fiction' (2006)

'Fish Story' (2009)

O.

 

No, They Cried, Not AGAIN!

Shamefully, it has been a few years now since the last active phase of the Quirky Muffin, but it's pretty clear to everyone just what those three years were all about and so let's push on. But push on to what?

Now, the Quirky Muffin has been gone a while,

As if burbling and meandering was out of style,

But now, if rumours are true, it might be back,

And once again the 'blog's author will lack,

All sense of restraint as the words tumble out,

Leaving all sensible people to run away in rout.

`Where have you been? Why have you returned?

Have you forgotten all the things you've learned?

Do you really intend to compose silly reviews,

Extemporise wildly about what is barely the news,

And then ponder wild thoughts about this and that?'

And the answer? 'Yes, 'tis their natural habitat!'

What should we push onto? It's a good question. For now, let's see what happens, and not be too pushy. Talking endlessly about oneself is a long out-of-date and self-indulgent exercise, but there might be some things to cover from time to time.

We shall see.

O.

Film: 'Porco Rosso' (1992, dubbed version)

Now that was kind of interesting. Could this be the point of closest approach for myself and the legendary Hayao Miyazaki? A story about an ex-First World War pilot, who was somehow cursed into becoming a pig person, and is living his life as a bounty hunter in the Adriatic. Why is he a pig person? It's hard to know, but it must  be a reflection of his own self-image or a consequence of acts we'll never know. Or is it all part of his strange experience seeing those spirit pilots flying up to the heavenly squadron? Yes, you have been spoiled!

This movie epitomizes everything that people like about Miyazaki, and everything they don't like. As with a lot of Japanese animation, a many of the characters look almost identical, especially the ladies, and the comedy villains have less characterization than some inanimate objects. The plot is also a bit too sparse and decompressed. However, and it's always the same 'however', it is very very beautiful and there are moments which elevate it beyond its average.

Oh, Miyazaki! If only the writing were as good as the visuals! Oh, the visuals! The titular character is a bit too muted, and doesn't always look exactly porcine, but it's okay. The high flying airstream of spirit planes is fantastic, as are most of the beautiful shorts of Porco's original red plane. The world of the Adriatic stuns, and the sojourn of Porco in Milan, hiding out from the police while his plane is redesigned and rebuilt is appropriate grimy. It's almost certainly a net positive so far. And, it's excellent that the girl plane designer is built into the plot, but a shame they didn't do something a bit less cliched. At least she didn't really fall for Porco.

Is it possible to get to a final conclusion on 'Porco Rosso'? Once everything is considered, it's somewhere on the clearly good end of the spectrum. The ending is sweet and implicitly resolves the storylines of Porco and the two ladies in his life. If only, if only, the supporting pirates weren't so entirely, stupidly, pathetically stupid and comedic. And if only the dialogue was just a bit better. In the dubbed version, Michael Keaton is spectacular as Porco, with some good and solid backup from the rest of the cast.

Yes, definitely good, but a bit panto-like with the villains. Is there another Miyazaki which will approach even closer? Is there?

To the Quirky Muffin!

Books: The Literary Reflection, XXIV

Here we go again! Welcome back to Book-ville!



'Thank You, Jeeves' (Jeeves And Wooster) (1934) by PG Wodehouse

This is excellent stuff, and with more built into it than was in the coresponding 'Jeeves And Wooster' television episode. There is, in particular a string of three chapter endings that stun you with the comedic turns and backlashes. Could anything more have gone wrong for Bertie Wooster? Could it? He spends half of the book blacked up with shoe polish, being assaulted by his new valet, harrassed by the well-meaning constabulary, and paying for his new love of the banjolele by the absence of Jeeves. It's a wonderul sequence of events, and it's hard to imagine any actual person being able to string it all together. It's not quite up there with the masterpiece that is 'The Code Of The Woosters', but very few novels are. Wodehouse even manages to redeem the pompous Roderick Glossop, egad! I can't write any more without providing coherent spoilers (incoherent spoilers are admissable, after all), and so will stop at this point. Time to go back and start from the beginning with Mr Wooster, it seems.


'Death Of A Doxy' (Nero Wolfe) (1966) by Rex Stout

Much as with 'Some Buried Caesar', I'm still very confused on the Nero Wolfe series. 'Death Of A Doxy' is a straightforwardly (but very well) written crime story, with some unique touches, and is comparatively short. Archie Goodwin continues to narrate and drive the plot while Nero Wolfe himself potters around and thinks in between sessions at the dining table and with his orchids. I suspect this is an excellent novel, and yet... I wish there were a rough edge or two somewhere to make it less perfect. One of my longest-standing biases is that of being a little put off by things which are so glossy and flawless that they becomes inhuman, and this may well have fallen into that hole. The interludes with singer Julia Jaquette and Nero are fascinating, however, as is her ultimate path. She may be as close as we get to an Irene Adler for Mr Wolfe? I can't imagine anyone else calling him 'Big Man' in serious, or song, or jest and getting away with it. Apparently Rez Stout became an octogenarian just during the writing or just after the publication of this one, and you really wouldn't have known. The cold opening, 'en media res' in other words, in particularly solid. Very good. Maybe excellent. Probably excellent.


'Star Trek: Logs Nine And Ten' (Star Trek) (1977-1978) by Alan Dean Foster

Never during reading all these adaptations of 'Star Trek: The Animated Series', have they felt exactly like 'Star Trek', which is perhaps a sign of their accuracy as the animated series never felt that way either. In these last two instalments, Foster massively expands the two episodes 'Bem' and 'The Slaver Weapon'. In moving to this kind of expansion, we get even more crazy stuff. There are agglomerated monsters, symbiotic crowns, mass body swaps, enough Klingons to have a small party, and another prank by Scotty. As with the animated series, the characterisation is very different to the original series, which makes it problematic. Very problematic. Kirk in particular does some very un-Kirk-like things in resolving the major problem in 'Bem' and setting up a devious ploy in 'The Slaver Weapon'. as adaptation of the animated series, this concludes the series and is probably very good. As 'Star Trek' in general, I don't know. Is that wishy-washy enough?

In a big minus, there was a major problem with my copy of 'Logs Nine And Ten', where thirty-something pages were printed twice, the second instances overwriting a part of the story. That is a hideous oversight in the reprint and should be scorned. Scorned! I'm looking at you, Insert Publisher Here! Grrr.


'Sackett's Land' (Sacketts) (1974) by Louis L'Amour

Chronologically first, but published twelfth, 'Sackett's Land' is the prequel to and beginning of L'Amour's planned history of the pioneering American frontier, and is a fairly short and straightforward story of adventuring across the ocean while facing intrigue on the land. In fact, it's a story about many things. There are valuable antique coins, ship battles, Indians (the American kind), alligators, true love, sword fights, elements of intrigue, rough times living wild and more in 'Sackett's Land', and it skims over all those things in a flash. In fact, it feels as if it pays far too little attention to many of its plot elements, as we hop back and forth. One moment our protagonmist Barnabas is marooned amidst enemies, and the next he's saved, only to be threatened again, survive, and so on and so on. It's good, though, and is in fact one of the very first non kiddie books I ever read, although I remembered only the beginning parts, set in the Fens of the United Kingdom.

Let's belabour the point here: It's strange to think that in only one hundred and eighty pages we start with a Fensman discovering some coins, transition through five or six other subplots, voyage to America and back, and establish both a romance and the foundations of the chronologically following books in the series. However, it could have been so much more! The sequel to this novel, which will be read soon, is a much longer and thicker novel so L'Amour could be more elaborate when he wanted. In summary, good but very fast and packed. In many ways, it is difficult to fully evaluate this novel without having read the others in series. Time will tell.


'The Starship Trap' (Star Trek) (1993) by Mel Gilden

Oooh... a 'Star Trek' novel! You can't see it from wherever you may be, but there are a lot of 'Star Trek' novels here, most of which haven't been read for a long long time. 'Trek' was a staple of my reading while growing up, before even seeing much of the original series, but the simplistic and basic writing of quite a few of them can be offputting decades later. As a case in point, 'The Starship Trap' has a plot worthy of being an episode of the show, with a cool science fiction concept at its heart as well as a nicely defined antagonist, but the prose is very plain indeed. Fortunately the concept transcends the style, which itself improves a little as we proceed, and we ultimately get a decent to solid entry into the series. But my, what an episode it would have made! You see, there is this weaponry designer who goes rogue, and he invents a twist in the space-time continuum and starts to...


'Death Of A Ghost' (Campion) (1934) by Margery Allingham

Another excellent Campion story, and another one so similar to the television episodes that it is very difficult to disentangle. In fact, the only real differences are the elimination of a minor character or two and a small tag on the end. It's a very well written book, and highly recommended if you like this series of classical adventures or Golden Age stories in general. Oh, one major change is that there's no Lugg in this original prose version of the story. That's right, NO LUGG! To be fair, he's nowhere near as important in the books as he was in the television series, where Brian Glover made him a kind of treasure. What's it about? Oh, details! Campion becomes embroiled in a murder connected to the unveiling of a long dead artist's latest time released painting. There's a rather vivid sequence where Campion is... Oh, that would be too much. Warning, there are a lot of eccentric artistic types in this story.


O.

Book: 'Volcano Adventure' (Adventure) (1956) by Willard Price

'Volcano Adventure' continues on directly from 'Underwater Adventure', with the 'Lively Lady' being taken over by noted volcanologist Dr Dan Adams, who is intent on doing a survey of the volcanoes of the western Pacific. What impact does this change of director have on the story? Well, it gets very hot very frequently.

One of the major distinguishing features of 'Volcano Adventure', the fourth episode in the 'Adventure' series, is that the mentor figure this time is not exactly reliable. He is in fact prone to mental episodes, and begins to distrust the two Hunts over the course of the novel. He's never an outright antagonist, but for a while he's not a friend either. That is unusual for the series to date, and interesting. Why does he freeze up for minutes on end, wake up screaming on one occasion, and go a bit loco while scuba diving on another? The lack of an overt villain in 'Volcano Adventure' is refreshing, probably because of all the volcano related peril already present. Yes, gentle readers, volcanoes are dangerous. It's also dangerous to punch a tiger shark in the belly, but I think we already knew that. Also, any story with a diving bell trip into the crater of an active volcano is definitely sporting some major adventure credentials.

The mini-tour around the South Seas, and the visit to Japan, is all nicely different too, and there are very few negatives to point out. Hal definitely gets the majority of the page time on this occasion, with younger Roger taking the back seat, but that could turn around in future instalments.

How could Price squeeze any more peril into the following books? How? Having asked that, the next book is 'Whale Adventure', which is definitely set to be the most problematic of the whole series as whaling is not even remotely acceptable any more. I've never read it, have no idea what's in it, and can only prepare for a rough ride.

O.

Book: 'Underwater Adventure' (Adventure) (1954) by Willard Price

Go, go, Hal and Roger! In this third instalment of the classic 'Adventure' series by Willard Price, we continue the maritime voyage begun in 'South Sea Adventure', but this time with a profound submarine component. However, we do still have a finkish villain in the form of SK 'Skink' Inkham, a pretender to the leadership of the mission. There is a lot to learn in these adventure novels, despite their antiquity and focus on being juvenile fiction, and a lot to really be surprised by.

First of all, this time we gets lot of gadgets. There are snorkels, aqualungs, sea sleds, diving bells and just a little bit more. Secondly, we have octopi, sharks, sunken treasure, submarine raiders, and treachery most vile. When I say 'vile', I really mean it, as the boys' mentor this time meets a very cruel death at the hands of a ruthless villain. Inkham is definitely one of the nastier antagonists in the run, and one who rather improbably got away with trying to murder a teacher at school with a deadly snake. Hal's similar experience is very tense here.

Not only do we have a lot of underwater adventures in this instalment, but we also have sunken treasure. Hurrah! Nothing is better than a sunken Spanish galleon, although on this occasion it is trumped by a typhoon. What, you were already happy with sunken treasure? Ha! The wall of water puts all that to shame! Spoilers? Ha!

It's lovely stuff. The resolution with the antagonists seems a bit predictable and glued on, but that's a minor defect. Roll on, book four, even if it does bring the potential problem that is the fifth book one step closer...

O.

Book: 'Clouds Of Witness' (Lord Peter Wimsey) (1926) by Dorothy L Sayers

Now this is rather awesome and a huge improvement on 'Whose Body?'. Huzzah! In the second Wimsey novel, we get a massive chunk of the Wimsey family history, a much more personal story and connection to Wimsey himself, the establishment of Parker's own backstory, and a great and totally unexpected ending moment with everyone least favourite detective, Inspector Sugg! And Sugg is partially redeemed. Huzzah!

'Clouds Of Witness' is the great second entry into the Wimsey series, in which Peter's decidedly dim elder brother ends up accused of murder (which means trial by the House Of Lords!). Is he guilty? Probably not, but he won't provide his alibi and probably has secrets of his own to protect and other people to shield. It's up to Wimsey and Parker to find the truth about who killed the amateur sleuth's sister's fiance and try to duck scandal if at all possible.

Wimsey is much more of a relatable person in this instalment in the series, and further rehabilitated from the shell shock and heartbreak inflicted on him prior to the beginning of the stories. In fact, he is pronounced cured of his heartbreak, and even reconnects to his family in the form of his slightly wacky sister Mary, fiancee of the mysterious and dubious dead man. But did anyone really like the victim, including Mary herself? There is peril in the form of bog holes and rushed transatlantic flights with pioneering aviators, covert affairs of the heart, and also all the pomp and ceremony of the trial of a peer of the realm. And lots of breakfasts too. Breakfasts are important.

Recommended. We get much close closer to all the main characters. Excellent. Add ten to whatever score you think this all means.

O.

Books: The Literary Reflection, XXIII

The cursed era of the Big Nasty continues, and the Quirky Muffin has suffered while I descend into mild depressions and strange moods. There has been some reading, but not a lot, and so it's time for another Literary Reflection, a non-comprehensive summary of some of the books that have passed through the stacks.

Let the odd ramblings commence!



'Police At The Funeral' (Campion) (1931) by Margery Allingham

The British tradition of filling stories with eccentrics, oddballs and noble matriarchs is in full evidence in 'Police At The Funeral', wherein Campion is asked to help out at a town house in Cambridge. The house in question is inhabited by an aged matriarch and her almost totally useless children, nephew and one useful great-niece. Well, perhaps that should be 'late nephew', as murders seem to be happening and no-one is clear on what is going on. Discreet help is needed, and no-one is more discreet than Albert Campion, called in by a friend of the family. The question is this: Can he stop the killings, and save Great Aunt Caroline from a hideous prodigal's return? 'Police At The Funeral' is not one of my favourites of the Campions I've read so far. That would be 'Sweet Danger', the following story, but this is solid. Ultimately, it's just too gloomy and the shadow of the television version hangs over it too much for this to be viewed independently. The beginning sequence in London is rather good, though. Is it a good book? Definitely yes, with a sordid undertone. (These notes written after far too long an interval.)


'Rumpole And The Golden Thread' (Rumpole) (1983) by John Mortimer

This set of six stories aligns with the fourth series of the vintage, classical and unparalleled television series also written by John Mortimer. Which came first, the episodes or the stories? I really have no idea, as it has all become unclear with time and may have varied, year by year. In this set, an eccentric artist seems determined to be convicted of forging, Rumpole is summoned to Africa to defend an opposition leader facing death, a couple are arrested for running a very very middle class brothel, Horace plots to get Miss Allways into Chambers, Allways' sister is accused of murder, and finally Rumpole resorts to extreme measures during a case before the Mad Bull. It's a nice collection of stories, but I'm so late in collecting these remarks (perhaps six months late) that it's not all entirely clear in my mind, especially having watched the television versions so recently. 'The Last Resort' does stir a memory, however, as it is the only prose version that I've read so far which includes a passage not written by Rumpole himself. I will not explain why that is so, but it does mark a high water mark in the set. I wonder what happened to Miss Allways, anyway? (These notes written after far too long an interval.)


'Sweet Danger' (Campion) (1933) by Margery Allingham

The Campion stories are adventures instead of mysteries, which is obvious to anyone who actually reads them or sees the television series. This entry, the fifth, both wonderful for its story but also for introducing the love of Albert's life, the sparky Amanda Fitton. As an early novel, it does have a television episode counterpart, which influences the reading, but it's jolly good by itself too. That said, it's impossible to not see Lysette Antony firing up the scene when Amanda is involved in the episode. In 'Sweet Danger', Albert and some companions set out to save a tiny European valley in the middle of nowhere, which is now valuable as it has acquired a coastline, and restore it to the ownership of a long forgotten British family. There are riddles, quests, a villainous financier, several brushes with danger, strange black magic motifs and more inside this book. Be warned! It is extremely readable! And absolutely wacky in the combinations of incongruous elements. A primitive electric car? Oh, oh, how much more interesting and less homogenous things might have been back in history... Maybe... Rose-tinted spectacles at the ready, everyone!


'The Stainless Steel Rat Gets Drafted' (Stainless Steel Rat) (1987) by Harry Harrison

When last we heard from Slippery Jim DiGriz, the titular Stainless Steel Rat, we had discovered his origin story and the fate of his mentor, the mysterious man known only as The Bishop. Now, in the wake of past events, Jim sets out to escape prison and exact revenge on the villain responsible for the Bishop's fate. In typical fashion, that involves Jim enlisting in a planetary army, becoming involved in an interplanetary invasion, subversion on a massive scale, the discovery of an ancient artificial intelligence, a wholly new social philosophy, and confusion at every turn in the narrative. This is definitely one of the messier Stainless Steel Rats, but it's good. Probably very good. Harry Harrison was a writer who had not problem pushing against his own genre, and I'm wondering when or if this series falls apart.  This is the seventh instalment, published twenty-six years after the first. Where next? And will Harrison avoid the trap of trying to top himself every time now we're skipping around in DrGriz's timeline? Time will tell... (These notes written after far too long an interval.)


'An Antarctic Mystery (AKA The Sphinx Of The Ice Fields)' (1897) by Jules Verne

This is an odd one. Having been used to the famous Verne novels, it seemed like time to get a bit obscure and so we end up with 'An Antarctic Mystery', which is apparently a direct sequel to the Edgar Allen Poe story about some guy called Pym. Pym had a (it sounds rather gruesome and morbid) maritime adventure in the Antarctic Circle, which ended in disaster (Poe!), and Verne's story features a geologist hitching a ride home from a remote island with a ship whose captain's brother died during the Pym story. This ride ultimately converts into a trip to the as yet unreached speculated continent of Antarctica, in search of survivors from that trip many many years before. The chief weakness of this story is that it would be completely non-existent without the earlier work, is ultimately just pointless flotsam if, like myself, you are not a fan of Poe. However, there are good points. The gigantic lodestone at the South Pole is interesting, destroying vessels by extracting all the metal fasteners and equipment, and destroying whatever (or whoever) happens to be between those items and this 'antarctic sphinx'. Some of the geographical knowledge about the near Antarctic islands is quite good too. However, there are far too many coincidences, and mutinous crewmen have been so overdone as to cause torpor at this point. Overall, it was a very erratic experience.

O.

Book: 'Whose Body?' (Lord Peter Wimsey) (1923) by Dorothy L Sayers

The first Lord Peter Wimsey novel doesn't feel like the first. It feels like the second or third. That's a good thing. We don't get the exposition of the various characters' backgrounds, but learn by example. Lord Peter already knows his police partner Parker, Bunter is already his valet and confidante, and the mystery is the thing.

The first time I read through the Wimsey series I was both impressed and a little deterred by its core strength: Its sheer intellectual power. Sayers was a reasoning machine in her writing, and what flashes of emotion we get are brief and powerful. 'Whose Body?' is excellent and impressive while still being disposable in some strange way, but it was more appealing the second time through. The crime, a classic case of corpse switching, is one that takes a while to unravel in the reader's mind. In my case, I didn't work out until a short while after Wimsey did, despite having read the story before.

The curious nature of the Wimsey series is difficult to really articulate. In this book, you might perhaps be reading about people while looking through a stainless steel shield, held by a reverent knight intent on guarding their little universe. Or is that too fanciful? Perhaps it's all in my mind. The notion of post traumatic stress disorder was barely developed in the years following the Great War, but here we have a nobleman, an ex-officer of the battle line, stranded in a now peaceful land and looking for excitement to fill up his life and incidentally help his recovery from what was then called 'shell shock'. We never really get to know Wimsey, but we do know of him.

'Whose Body?' is not the best in the series (you might need the character of Harriet Vane to qualify for that distinction), but it is a very solid opener. This read through will continue...

O.


 

Book: 'The Last Templar' (Medieval West Country Mysteries) (1995) by Michael Jecks

This is the first entry in a fantastically long series of medieval mysteries that have been championed by the 'In Search Of The Classic Mystery Novel' blog run by the Puzzle Doctor. It's nice to see these stories reaching new eras of history, and not just languishing in the Victorian era and later. Jecks' writing is good, with some imagery thrown in to avoid the bland bestseller style you find in so many modern-ish novels.

'The Last Templar' tricked me, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Yes, there are spoilers ahead. There are several murders, which according to classical mystery story telling should all be connected, but I can't decide whether the actual solutions to the various intrigues breaks an important rule of these kinds of books or not. Or whether it is ultimately satisfying. The high quality of writing means I'll definitely come back for another one or two in the series, though. The trick behind the title is also very misleading, but feels much fairer in how it works.

The world of policing in the medieval age is so completely different as to be fascinating. There are essentially no policemen apart from a few sheriffs and a bailiff or two, and they have to organise a posse if they ever need to investigate trouble. Yes, a posse, often referred to as 'The Hundred'. It is also a world without light, and one with an awful lot of fire. Fire was the high technology of the time, and was a more common method of murder. It's also a world where people would still be crucified and burned at stakes. How strange it all seems now, even while our hero, Simon Puttock the newly chosen Bailiff  of Lydford Castle investigates the murders in his area and meeting his new friend, and suspicious newcomer, Sir Baldwin Furnshill.

Where will this series go? We will have to wait and see. I'll keep going until either the end or the onset of fatigue.

O.

Book: 'The Merchant's Partner' (Medieval West Country Mysteries) (1995) by Michael Jecks

There are so many exclamation marks at the end of dialogue! Yikes! It's sometimes as if the characters are speaking in an episode of 'Batman'! How's that for a cold opening, huh? We return to Michael Jecks, and on this occasion I will be less positive, if only because 'The Merchant's Partner' has some structural similarities to the first book in the series and because of the exclamation marks! The temptation is to put the quibbles aside and lump it all into the 'second book problem' category of woes, which has afflicted so many authors and series. The first book is usually a labour of love, but the second book is often a labour of toil as the author tries to work out what on Earth to do next, given the success of the first instalment.

In that first book, 'The Last Templar', there were were three murders and the strong presence of darkness, which was a major problem back in history. When you only had fire as a source of light, the night time was a dangerous time indeed. This time, there are two murders and the natural problem of coldness, as this is definitely a winter's tale, with snow and potential death by hypothermia around every corner. There but for a few gadgets would we all be. On the other hand, the much deeper symbiosis with the environment seems a far more natural way of life that the sterile isolation from all things animal we have now. Anyway, back to the plot. Sir Baldwin Furnshill, Keeper of the Peace, has invited his old friend Simon Puttock, Bailiff of Lydford, and his wife to visit, but unfortunately two murders complicate matters tremendously. In addition, snow is falling by the yard, Baldwin the unhappy bachelor is desperately pining for a love to call his own. Oh, and one of the victims is supposed to have been a witch...

This one is curious. Overall, it's very solidly constructed and written. The second string narrative of the visiting stranger and his wanderings is quite similar to that in the first book, and exists mainly as a potential red herring to keep us guessing. The medieval setting is still fresh and unusual for a mystery novel, but the long narrative journey to get us to the conclusion seems a bit drawn out and burdened with exposition. It seems a bit far-fetched that neither Furnshill nor Puttock could have guessed at the real nature of the potion that Spoilery Person Number Five took, and Furnshill fell in love so ludicrously fast that his heart may have broken the sound barrier. Still, that could well be my cynicism seeping through.

Second books are always difficult, and this is pretty solid and good on many levels, so the third shall be the real test. It's not time to leave Devon yet...

O.

Book: 'The Big Clock' (1946) by Kenneth Fearing

Spoilery times ahead.

It's going to be difficult to talk about this without making a comparison to the rather excellent Ray Milland movie version, but let's try. In 'The Big Clock', we are introduced to our main protagonist George Stroud, who is an editor of the crime magazine 'Crimeways', part of tycoon Earl Jaroth's publication group. He's an average guy, except for being a bit sleazy at times, who gets involved with Jaroth's mistress and then witnesses his boss at her home on the night she is murdered. What follows is a thriller, where the murderer Jaroth tells Stroud to employ the entire magazine group staff on a manhunt to catch... Stroud. There are other wrinkles to it all, but the (mostly) innocent Stroud has to protect himself while trying to deflect the investigation toward the true culprit.

Maybe we should talk about the movie, after all, as the differences are important. Here, in the book, Stroud is saved by a freak event which gets the manhunt called off, and is then mysteriously considered in the clear. He is also clearly a philanderer, which is a real flaw to add to the main protagonist. In terms of the climax and likeable characters, the movie is much much better, since Stroud is instrumental in the climax and fate of Jaroth, instead of being the recipient of good but dumb luck. Also, in the movie, he spends the evening with the doomed lady in bars and antique shops, but it is nowhere near being the grand weeks long infidelity depicted in the novel. Ultimately, the novel is hard-boiled noir, and the movie is filled with more likeable characters.

In an unusual move, each chapter of 'The Big Clock' is written from the point of view of a character, most of them George Stroud. There are, however, several narrated by other characters in the story. At the moment, I can't think of another novel that does that in my collection, although it seems as if there is at least one, currently hidden away by memory. Is it necessary, or a gimmick, or both? There are definitely versions of this story which could successfully be told exclusively from Stroud's point of view, leaving the machinations of Jaroth to the reader's imagination.

All in all, this is a good and short thriller. There is an issue with the ending being so sudden and incidental, leaving Stroud in the clear for no reason, but this is purely a subjective problem. The ending of the movie is definitely preferable. It's more satisfying to tie the ending into your protagonist than not, after all. Still, it is a famous crime novel, so Fearing probably knew what he was doing! It's well written, humorous and serious, but a bit brief. Also, there is an eccentric artist! On the other hand, it's a bit too preoccupied  with sexuality and mores for me, but that's not an uncommon problem.

O.

Diary Of A Stay At Home, VII

Self-Quarantine Day 39: Wednesday, 22nd April, 2020

Sixteen days have elapsed since the last update, in which everything has continued more or less as before, but with less nervous tension and more sleeping. Doesn't that sound nice? Things really have stayed much the same, which is eerie in many ways, as the country (and the wider world) struggles with the Big Nasty that no-one ever expected. Oh, many have suspected that a killer virus would emerge to wreak vengeance on the species that has caused so much imbalance and ickiness, but those suspicions were never 'this year' or 'this week'. Oh well, we deal with what we're dealt. And then go to sleep each night. That's the British way.

Meanwhile, here in Old South Wales, your genial author is contenting himself with convalescing from that nervous schism that followed the outbreak of the oncoming storm, by diversions such as endless games and escalating reading time. It will be alright. In fact, a re-readathon has been kickstarted, succeeding the monumental string of previously unread stories. Now, unread stories are wonderful, but so is returning to old friends. Thus, 'Belgarath the Sorcerer' makes a reappearance, as does 'The Beiderbecke Trilogy' (not as good as the television shows, but decent), 'Conan The Barbarian', and 'The Columbo Collection' (not even close to being as good as the television series again, but a diversion). I suspect this is going to be a period re-integration of old things with the new. Maybe a new synthesis is occurring in the world, where many of the non-essential fripperies will be put aside for a long time. Maybe pigs will also fly.

It's hard to learn how not to be nervous while essentially cowering away in your dwelling. It's hard to not panic, or fret. Fortunately, there is emotional release through television, movies and even radio plays. Tomorrow, there should be a Clive Merrison and Michael Williams Sherlock-athon. Huzzah! You can't go wrong with those two. You also can't go wrong with just flinging frisbees (or obsoleted flying rings) in the garden, if you have a garden. It's a nice way to get out of the house during this endless sunny spell, about which no-one has really talked. It has been sunny for weeks, and often more like Summer than Spring, and is extraordinarily annoying. Why, oh why, torture us this way, Great Bird Of The Galaxy? However, let's get back to frisbees. If you happen to be lucky enough to have a frisbee, and a number of rings, you can play target frisbee. You throw the disk, and then try to get as close as possible to it with the rings. Yes, it sounds dull, but it's very relaxing, if you can relax enough about wind direction, strength, and what might be drifting from where. Target frisbee is relaxing in the same way that air conducting is a release. It might be time to take a trip to the Teary List in order to feel better...

Will we all have learnt to be more independent when this is over? Will we? And will I want to leave the small book fortress that will have accumulated? Just wait and see... Incidentally, what would be the best way to make a book drawbridge?

O.

Diary Of A Stay At Home, VI

Self-Quarantine Day 24: Monday, 6th April, 2020

It was the year of staying home, of lemony drinks, of being suspicious of winds from the bungalows next door, and of herbal teas most foul. It was the year of being practically unemployed, of anxiety, and of uncertainty as to where the next batch of food might be coming from. It was the year of 2020, and it still is, and it will be for many more months.

The world is hurrying out there, beyond these walls. Researchers and medics are hurriedly trying to repurpose existing medications and vaccines, in the hopes that they might help, while other do their best to develop medicines especially for the Big Nasty as quickly as possible, while not cutting so many corners that they produce completely worthless rubbish. Inventive people are developing equipment that can be 3-D printed, while merciless tycoons and unsavoury leaders try to push unsafe medications on their peoples, in exchange for favours as yet undisclosed to us, the general public. All of these things at once, while here in the United Kingdom, the Prime Minister I never wanted is hospitalised with an uncertain future.

Yes, it is the year 2020, and everything has gone rather ca-ca. Still, it could be worse. Indeed, it could be far, far worse, and we'll just have to wait and see what will happen. Here, things continue in an endless loop, and the squirrels in the garden continue to frolic. We're up to four now. They're nice little rapscallions. There's something hypnotic about the way they move: Fast jumping runs interspersed with moments of utter stillness. That's the beauty of squirrels. Maybe they'll take over one day. That would be nice, and much better than 'Planet Of The Apes'. Yes, I'll have to write 'World Of The Squirrels'. What a wonder that would be!

Yes, this post has to end with 'World Of The Squirrels'. That has blotted out all else, even the incredible irony of a tobacco firm claiming to have developed an antigen, which it's growing inside its plants. Even that has been eclipsed by the squirrels. It could be a great series of novels. 'Birth Of The World Of The Squirrels', 'Revolution Of World Of The Squirrels', 'Dance Of World Of The Squirrels', and... 'Nut Festivals Of World Of The Squirrels'. It must happen.

O.

Diary Of A Stay At Home, V

Self-Quarantine Day 17: Monday, 30th March, 2020

It has been a few days since the last update, and things have continued in much the same fashion, with a couple of unfortunate trips out, and much stress around dog walking and food deliveries. This whole 'two metre' guideline seems extremely simplistic. If people breathe out droplets, aren't they still going to be there for other people to walk through, or is there some kind of fast dispersion and nullification effect from being outside? Is it the wind? Does that mean calm days are more dangerous for being outside? It's a mystery to me. In a few short weeks there are going to be far too many people wandering around to ever walk the quadruped of terror anywhere but the garden. The mystery of whether open car windows are dangerous continues to be a mystery... as does the safety of food deliveries. I mean, those packages are being breathed on by several batches of people, right? Is it paranoia? Is it?

It would be easy to get paranoid in this situation. There might be six more months of this to go, or more, and everything that comes into the house is suspect, including me. There is no relief. It will probably be better when everyone is not sick, though. There are coughs, and now sneezes, and my chest is still tight, and I'm still not convinced we haven't already had the Mighty Virus, but it's impossible to tell. MAss home testing can't come quickly enough.

What does a day consist of at this stage of the lockdown? At the moment, we begin with getting up, which is traditional. Some people like to get down instead of getting up, but that's too much like work or jive. Then there's catching up on the turn-based games on BoardGameArena, breakfast, a ceremonial television episode with the parents, and then divergence from pattern. On Tuesday, there are a couple of students, on another day there's a food delivery, and on others nothing really happens but a little preparation. That has to change. Something has to fill those days. After the deviation, out with the dog, a game with parents, maybe another television episode, more game turns on the website, a ceremonial e-mail or two, and then to sleep. Or as close to sleep as is possible.

It all feels very sad. Television will have to be our saviour for now.

O.

Diary Of A Stay At Home, IV

Self-Quarantine Day 12: Wednesday, 25th March, 2020

It is a time of extremes. The quarantine is blown as my father had to go to casualty with a cut hand, three times. That equals enormous stress, but we may just have gotten away with it. On the other hand, I was moved to tears by more than four hundred thousand people volunteering to become NHS Volunteers and take up a role in the community. What a wonder that is. Well done, you people! Tears did flow.

In good virus news, mass testing might be upon us, which would lead to a significant advantage over the microorganism. We may beat it yet. On the other hand, Agent X reports a worry about the (small?) fee for early purchase by the general public. We just don't know enough yet.

For even more viral knowledge, here's something about 'viral load':

https://www.facebook.com/helen.williamson.507/posts/10156555735875834

In short, viruses can be worse the more you're exposed. One exposure from a single source is better than from a crowd in a room. Also, it's best to not hang around with other infected people as you breathe in each other's nastiness and become even more infected. That makes sense, right? Try to recover alone. The source seems reputable, and again it is from secret source Agent X. She'll be named if she's nice, and notices anything away from her family.

Being in self-isolation, and scared of a foe you can not see, you become more than a little afraid. You become afraid of the packaging the food comes in, just in case it was handled by an infected person. You get scared of the clothes you walked the dog in, because they may have picked something up from the air, or from passing cars (with open windows, you rotten twerps), or from gates or brushing on a fence. You get scared of a sore throat, or touching the computer mouse, because you touched it earlier, after touching your coat, which may have been messed by the walk outside, which may, which may, and so on.

Try not to get too scared please. It's not worth it. Eat liquorice instead. Mwahahahahaha. Or glug some echinacea tea, or use the Mystical Unwaxed Lemon Trick. Or find a source of elderberry extract. There are more productive things to do...

O.

Diary Of A Stay At Home, III

Self-Quarantine Day 10: Monday, 23rd March, 2020

And so, after making it a whole week since the last definite contact, the day counter rolls back to zero after a simple misunderstanding. It's back to worrying for all! And that's not even including my old lung would springing some surprise pain for the day. Oh well, I'm always worried anyway, so there's no difference in that respect, but it is vexing.

Many things change in the middle of a massive disease crisis. Here in the Lair of the Quirky Muffin, certain more serious books in the reading stack have gone back into the standby pile, to be replaced by happier and nicer reads. Similarly, the heavier television series in the rotation are being spaced out by somewhat lighter fare. It's all in the spirit of positivity!

Now, if only the old lung wound hadn't started hurting, probably due to gas. No need to panic. There's nothing to see here. Here are some highlights of the day's activities: two absolutely classical episodes of 'Car 54, Where Are You?' ('No More Pickpockets' and 'The Beast That Walked The Bronx'), a well-made raisin cake, and a nice walk without the spectre of open car windows passing by for once. That should become less of a concern if there is a lockdown.

When this whole pandemic crisis blows over, let's all fly a kite, and have a really wonderful day of being able to touch our faces with no shame whatsoever. Oh, the torture of itches...

O.

Diary Of A Stay At Home, II

Self-Quarantine Day 7: Friday, 20th March, 2020

One entirely predictable consequence of being isolated for three to twelve months is going to be the mental state upon going back to some kind of normal. Some people might even resist it, and try to stay in their exile, especially if they've built up an online profession and virtual life. So, how should we prepare for eventually going back to the social world? I don't have a good answer yet, but presumably we should all stay in contact with our people as best we can, while also focussing on projects and hobbies to keep us sane.

Does that make sense?

In health news, it has been eight days since my mother last went to town for volunteering, six days since my last face-to-face student, and only five days since my father last saw someone from the outside in person. We're doing well so far, so perhaps we're all clean of the dreaded virus. We can only hope!

Just in case, if anything happens to me, you're all brilliant. Even you, slouching at the back. Stand up straight!

O.