Yet again, it's time to do the potted reviews of books that didn't quite make it to a full review for whatever reason. It doesn't mean that they were bad, necessarily! They might be good but without being truly noteworthy or significant.
'Spend Game' (Lovejoy) (1981) by Jonathan Gash
A grand improvement. It's not entirely clear why it's a big improvement, but my best guess would be the departure from formula and the continued effort spent in integrating the differing continuities of the first few novels as we get into this fourth episode in the 'Lovejoy' stories. On the other hand, it's a bit swearier, which counts against it. The mystery is much more mysterious, with a red herring detail that I followed down a rabbit hole, and has a nice bit of psychology making Lovejoy's situation much more perilous than any of the previous entries. Very good. Bring on some more of the series! Crikey, there should be some description of the story, perhaps? Lovejoy is drawn into a mystery sounding the death of an old army mate, literally dumped in the road in front of him, and his connections to a strange railway enigma. Yes, railways are involved, making a double hook. Ah...
'The Last Defender Of Camelot' (1980) by Roger Zelazny
This is not to be confused with the much later collection of the same name but different contents, This 'The Last Defender Of Camelot' was read over such a long period, that the earlier portions are now lost in a hazy recollection. Lots of the stories are excellent and brilliantly written, but Zelazny does fall into the classical paradigm of people trying to be taken seriously: He is absolutely unwilling to write a happy ending to anything. Anything! The anthology comprises many, many short stories, which cumulatively become a massive downer if you read too many in a row. Some time in the future, I will again write a massive diatribe about how ludicrous it is that misery is critically acclaimed. Aaaargh. Having said that, the titular story almost breaks that coda, and is really rather stunning in its simplicity, being the last story of Lancelot, a thousand years late. 'For A Breath, I Tarry' is also rather stunning, a future Eden story in fact. Oh, it's a great collection, but you can't read it all in one go, as the cumulative effect of great but sad stories like 'He Who Shapes', 'Damnation Alley', and even 'The Stainless Steel Leech' will leave you ragged.
'Rendezvous In Russia' (2014) by Lauren St John
The final novel in the 'Laura Marlin Mysteries' has been laid to rest, and it was about on a level with the others. It's a solid juvenile adventure mystery geared to the younger end, and it's hard as an adult to really make any kind of judgement. The telegraphing of plot points is very strong, which makes it a bit of a problem, and the depiction of Russia is a bit hard to reconcile with what we're presented (distorted or not) in the news, but it's still solid. It's a ridiculously tidy and neat ending, though. All in all, a good set of books to keep around if you're a sometime English tutor. You will read these, little people, and this other pile too! Get to it! Grraaaaa!
'The Lost World' (1912) by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Oh, that cheeky Arthur Conan Doyle, fooling us with all those historical novels and Sherlock Holmes mysteries, before blowing the doors off with this genre giant, 'The Lost World'! Dinosaurs! Ape men! Lost plateaux in the Amazon! It's a grand old adventure, in the same field as 'Journey To The Centre Of The Earth', but not quite on that exalted level. The social changes in the intervening century have made the hunting aspect of the story much less acceptable, even though it was a radically different thing at the time than the industrial hunting we have now. Also, attitudes towards hired native help and stereotypes have changed, but you have to take the rough with the smooth. There be dinosaurs here! For all the cliches, Zambo was an excellent guy.
'Star Trek: Probe' (1992) by Margaret Wander Bonanno
The 'Star Trek' novels really degenerated into a tick box exercise of filling in continuity gaps and interlinking things that didn't need to be connected after a while, but this was before all that. This is 'Probe' by the excellent Margaret Wander Bonanno (who wrote a few more sterling Trek novels besides this), a sequel to the events of 'Star Trek IV' and in many ways a complement to the much maligned 'Star Trek V' as well as providing a further thread feeding into 'Star Trek VI'. It still feels like its own entity, somehow, despite even probably referencing the Borg. 'Probe' succeeds by telling a simple story that is consistent in terms of character, tenor and 'Star Trek' in general, without feeling at all derivative or forced. Yes, there is that plethora of connections, but they're incidental. It's entirely credible that that giant probe from 'The Voyage Home' would return to investigate the mystery of the disappearing and reappearing whales. It would have to travel from somewhere, so why not have it traverse the Romulan Star Empire, and coincide with a fragile Romulan peace initiative? As 'Star Trek' novels go, this is one of the good ones. Bonanno could indeed write.
'The Stainless Steel Rat's Revenge' (1970) by Harry Harrison
We're a little out of sequence here, having read this second 'Steel Rat' novel after the third ('The Stainless Steel Rat Saves The World'), but it doesn't seem to make a huge difference. This is much better than its successor, mainly due to doing one thing coherently instead of zapping around in time and doing three things less well. Or, to be fairer, this one lives up to its potential better. Slippery Jim DiGriz is swiftly pushed into marriage with his true love, the ex-homicidal and currently very pregnant Angelina, before being pressed into a special and very perilous mission by the Special Corps. Can he stop a new star empire expanding just by himself? There is the usual amount of humour, the usual cavalcade of gorgeous (but not gratuitously described) female characters, and the plot that is a level above what you would expect of a comedic science-fiction novel. Therer's still a lot of drug-related behaviour and plot development, though, which was symptomatic of the times. I imagine that they thought that all kinds of things would be safely achieved via pharmaceutical constructions at the time. What a different world, and a different attitude! In any case, this series is so far recommended. What will happen with the fourth instalment, though?
O.
The mental meanderings of a maths researcher with far too little to do, and a penchant for baking.
Sunday, 9 September 2018
Saturday, 8 September 2018
Television: 'The Man From UNCLE: The Mad, Mad, Tea Party Affair' (1965) (Aired 1x18, Produced 1x21)
We return to UNCLE after missing 'The Secret Sceptre Affair' due to it being a bit dull. In the series's defence, it would be practically impossible to make twenty-nine episodes in a season and not have a few duller entries in the back half of the run. There are also some very good shows in that back half! Barbara Feldon will be appearing soon...
'The Mad Mad Tea Party Affair' has an interesting twist on the Involved Innocent conceit as well as a standard version, and is actually one of the cutest episodes of the season. 'Tea Party' begins with an ordinary looking man (Richard Haydn) launching a model plane in a park and watching it fly away, describing it as a 'sort of' suicide mission to some helping youths. The plane crashes into UNCLE headquarters, with the written message 'Boom! You're dead!' in the wreckage, and so the misadventures begin. Later on, there will be guppies. You have been warned.
Haydn's mischief maker is swiftly joined in the bystander stakes by a goofily deeply voiced Zohra Lampert as the woman he shoves through the secret UNCLE entrance at Del Floria's in order to occupy the agents' time while he probes their security at Mr Waverley's (who was trapped in a bathroom without his pipe, egads) request. The actual villainy of the episode is a plot by THRUSH (including the extremely beautiful Lee Meriwether briefly) to disrupt a vital diplomatic meeting at headquarters. How do the diplomats get in? Is there an official entrance somewhere? We never get the answers! An explosive conference table and a mole within UNCLE comprise the villainous scheme, but in an era of mass smoking, was it wise to make the detonators ash trays?
It's a great cast, Lampert's odd delivery not withstanding, and Waverley demonstrates his deep organising power yet again. Oh, and the cool factor is back again. We get all of this while almost never leaving the standing UNCLE sets, which makes this a very ambitious bottle episode. Bottle episodes are our friends, and always have been. There's something very powerful about winding up your actors, and letting them loose in a set with a well-written script.
We have a clear run to the end of the season now, people. Let's have fun with it!
O.
'The Mad Mad Tea Party Affair' has an interesting twist on the Involved Innocent conceit as well as a standard version, and is actually one of the cutest episodes of the season. 'Tea Party' begins with an ordinary looking man (Richard Haydn) launching a model plane in a park and watching it fly away, describing it as a 'sort of' suicide mission to some helping youths. The plane crashes into UNCLE headquarters, with the written message 'Boom! You're dead!' in the wreckage, and so the misadventures begin. Later on, there will be guppies. You have been warned.
Haydn's mischief maker is swiftly joined in the bystander stakes by a goofily deeply voiced Zohra Lampert as the woman he shoves through the secret UNCLE entrance at Del Floria's in order to occupy the agents' time while he probes their security at Mr Waverley's (who was trapped in a bathroom without his pipe, egads) request. The actual villainy of the episode is a plot by THRUSH (including the extremely beautiful Lee Meriwether briefly) to disrupt a vital diplomatic meeting at headquarters. How do the diplomats get in? Is there an official entrance somewhere? We never get the answers! An explosive conference table and a mole within UNCLE comprise the villainous scheme, but in an era of mass smoking, was it wise to make the detonators ash trays?
It's a great cast, Lampert's odd delivery not withstanding, and Waverley demonstrates his deep organising power yet again. Oh, and the cool factor is back again. We get all of this while almost never leaving the standing UNCLE sets, which makes this a very ambitious bottle episode. Bottle episodes are our friends, and always have been. There's something very powerful about winding up your actors, and letting them loose in a set with a well-written script.
We have a clear run to the end of the season now, people. Let's have fun with it!
O.
Tuesday, 4 September 2018
Book: 'The Rainbow Trail' (1915) by Zane Grey
This is impressive, maybe just as impressive as the first half of the story, which was contained in 'Riders Of The Purple Sage'. 'The Rainbow Trail' (TRT) is a great example of successfully looking at the end of one story, asking 'what if?', and actually producing a good second part. There are few examples of that being done successfully... No, 'Riders' is probably a bit better but simultaneously denser and more difficult, so there are checks and balances in play. All together, it's a grand (unplanned?) two-part story.
TRT is a great Western epic, which spans a year of narrative, or more, and is centred around an ex-preacher called John Shefford. His quest is to discover the fate of the mismatched trio of Lassiter, Jane and little Fay following the events of the first novel, where they were walled into the mini-paradise that was Surprise Valley as an escape from their Mormon pursuers, vengeful at Jane for abandoning her creed. We get more criticism of the Mormons here, such criticism being common for the period, but with more nuance as the youngest generation of that creed perform far more admirably according to the lights of the story.
While 'Riders' was more of a siege story, this is a road novel, with a mock trial and an escape punctuating the two parts of the journey. Shefford is an interesting protagonist to follow in his journey, morphing as he does from a confused ex-preacher through several states. However, the really interesting character is Nas Ta Bega, his Navajo soul brother, who helps and guides him, and who is suffering for the slow demise of his nation. Joe Lake, the allied Mormon, is also a good character to bring in, proving as he does that progress is going to be made. The Shefford story is intertwined with the much shorter (in pages, not time) story of Fay, imperilled in her own little drama, which is in many ways a complement to the whole story. In fact, every other character's story is a complement to Shefford's.
The strengths of TRT are the incredibly wonderful descriptions of the terrains and landscapes of the story, the sparsely written but well defined characterisations, and a great sense of wonder and danger in the wilderness and canyon country.
Very recommended, except for some ant-related peril. Yikes.
O.
TRT is a great Western epic, which spans a year of narrative, or more, and is centred around an ex-preacher called John Shefford. His quest is to discover the fate of the mismatched trio of Lassiter, Jane and little Fay following the events of the first novel, where they were walled into the mini-paradise that was Surprise Valley as an escape from their Mormon pursuers, vengeful at Jane for abandoning her creed. We get more criticism of the Mormons here, such criticism being common for the period, but with more nuance as the youngest generation of that creed perform far more admirably according to the lights of the story.
While 'Riders' was more of a siege story, this is a road novel, with a mock trial and an escape punctuating the two parts of the journey. Shefford is an interesting protagonist to follow in his journey, morphing as he does from a confused ex-preacher through several states. However, the really interesting character is Nas Ta Bega, his Navajo soul brother, who helps and guides him, and who is suffering for the slow demise of his nation. Joe Lake, the allied Mormon, is also a good character to bring in, proving as he does that progress is going to be made. The Shefford story is intertwined with the much shorter (in pages, not time) story of Fay, imperilled in her own little drama, which is in many ways a complement to the whole story. In fact, every other character's story is a complement to Shefford's.
The strengths of TRT are the incredibly wonderful descriptions of the terrains and landscapes of the story, the sparsely written but well defined characterisations, and a great sense of wonder and danger in the wilderness and canyon country.
Very recommended, except for some ant-related peril. Yikes.
O.
Friday, 10 August 2018
Board Game: 'Spy Club' (2018)
Forty Variations Of Something Nice
With one whole campaign of this co-operative now in the bag, playing solitaire as two players and only going slightly mad in the process, it's time to talk a little about 'Spy Club'.
This board/card game popped up on Kickstarter a year ago, and arrived just a couple of weeks ago. It's a quietly fascinating non-destructive and replayable campaign game, which is effectively a set of forty variations of a basic game, with some extra modifier cards which are persistent once they've been unlocked.
The basic game is about working out the details of a minor crime as a bunch of kid detectives, which is achieved by collecting sets of cards of each of five colours, one at a time. The 'bad stuff' phase, typical of almost all co-operative board games, is managed by a little suspect pawn who moves around the different player boards in a circle, with a set event occurring for each colour of card he might land on.
The base game is pretty hard, but the theme is wonderful and light, with none of the lurking dread common to most co-op games. Even if you don't fully succeed, you will pin down some of the aspects of the crime, to pass on to the police. There is no absolute failure here, but there is a definite race against time in that there will be only twenty-two turns, and several other other fail conditions. The potential for storytelling goodness is very good, as you try to build a narrative between the motive, suspect, location, object and crime cards that you've successfully nominated. What could link the garbage man, the ice cream shop, revenge, a stamp and a prank? What? And how does it relate to the 'master crime' being pinned down in the campaign?
The campaign of variations is a great concept and well executed. My experience is limited to a small number of games, but the ingenuity that has been employed in finding different ways to 'solve' the case using only the equipment provided is clear to see. Sometimes the variations make it harder, and sometimes easier. Sometimes they change the game in a major way, and sometimes just add an extra condition for winning. The only minor gripe I would have after this limited experience is that the campaign persistent modifications seem quite rare.
Aesthetically, it's very pretty, very thematic and very light. There is no gloom or doom here. The illustrations and art are beautiful. This is a recommended game.
Now, we just need a few more co-operative games which are thematically on the lighter side.
O.
With one whole campaign of this co-operative now in the bag, playing solitaire as two players and only going slightly mad in the process, it's time to talk a little about 'Spy Club'.
This board/card game popped up on Kickstarter a year ago, and arrived just a couple of weeks ago. It's a quietly fascinating non-destructive and replayable campaign game, which is effectively a set of forty variations of a basic game, with some extra modifier cards which are persistent once they've been unlocked.
The basic game is about working out the details of a minor crime as a bunch of kid detectives, which is achieved by collecting sets of cards of each of five colours, one at a time. The 'bad stuff' phase, typical of almost all co-operative board games, is managed by a little suspect pawn who moves around the different player boards in a circle, with a set event occurring for each colour of card he might land on.
The base game is pretty hard, but the theme is wonderful and light, with none of the lurking dread common to most co-op games. Even if you don't fully succeed, you will pin down some of the aspects of the crime, to pass on to the police. There is no absolute failure here, but there is a definite race against time in that there will be only twenty-two turns, and several other other fail conditions. The potential for storytelling goodness is very good, as you try to build a narrative between the motive, suspect, location, object and crime cards that you've successfully nominated. What could link the garbage man, the ice cream shop, revenge, a stamp and a prank? What? And how does it relate to the 'master crime' being pinned down in the campaign?
The campaign of variations is a great concept and well executed. My experience is limited to a small number of games, but the ingenuity that has been employed in finding different ways to 'solve' the case using only the equipment provided is clear to see. Sometimes the variations make it harder, and sometimes easier. Sometimes they change the game in a major way, and sometimes just add an extra condition for winning. The only minor gripe I would have after this limited experience is that the campaign persistent modifications seem quite rare.
Aesthetically, it's very pretty, very thematic and very light. There is no gloom or doom here. The illustrations and art are beautiful. This is a recommended game.
Now, we just need a few more co-operative games which are thematically on the lighter side.
O.
Thursday, 9 August 2018
Television: 'The Man From UNCLE: The Deadly Decoy Affair' (1965) (Aired 1x15, Produced 1x19)
Ilya really worked well in this episode. He almost held his own with Napoleon. Of course, it helped that they were both being duped by a far more devious mind, or even two far more devious minds, but it's still nice to see him get his due. Oh, what devious webs these spy masters weave. Actually, maybe there were three far more devious minds, but who can keep count in a spy show?
In 'The Deadly Decoy Affair', which is again a beautifully pretty episode, Napoleon and Ilya are assigned, after an off-duty altercation, to escort a decoy for a captured THRUSH bigwig to Washington, while Waverley takes the real superspy by heavily armed transport. Of course, we know who's going to get all the attention, don't we?
It's a pretty nice caper, on many levels, as our pursued dynamic duo and their prisoner become entangled with the Innocent of the week in a dress shop, unfortunate handcuffings occur and there's a cross-country chase. We even get a stop at an Amish house, and a Hitchcockian moment in passing the bound together villain and Innocent as newlyweds, but of course Napoleon uses his window lurking tendencies to good effect to keep the peace. Also in the category of Hitchcockian twists, we get a train journey which goes awry, and a blind THRUSH spymaster.
The enduring virtues of this first season of UNCLE are all on display here: Beautiful black and white photography, excellently paced and witty storytelling, a charming antagonist (or is he????), some lovely Walter Scharf jazzy music, and of course Robert Vaughn. He is the King Of Cool. Leo G Carroll could well have been the King of Cool in his earlier career, which is why he is perfectly cast as part of the regular UNCLE triumvirate. Witness, for example, the effortless Waverley karate chop and his deeply devious machinations. There should also be a special mention for Ralph Taeger as THRUSH prisoner Egon Stryker, who almost manages to out-cool Robert Vaughn, and another to the blind THRUSH spy hunter co-ordinating their chase. This episode is definitely recommended. I suppose the Innocent of the week is a bit bland, to make a negative.
We're well into our closing straight on 'The Man From UNCLE'. Next, 'The Secret Sceptre Affair', if all goes well.
O.
In 'The Deadly Decoy Affair', which is again a beautifully pretty episode, Napoleon and Ilya are assigned, after an off-duty altercation, to escort a decoy for a captured THRUSH bigwig to Washington, while Waverley takes the real superspy by heavily armed transport. Of course, we know who's going to get all the attention, don't we?
It's a pretty nice caper, on many levels, as our pursued dynamic duo and their prisoner become entangled with the Innocent of the week in a dress shop, unfortunate handcuffings occur and there's a cross-country chase. We even get a stop at an Amish house, and a Hitchcockian moment in passing the bound together villain and Innocent as newlyweds, but of course Napoleon uses his window lurking tendencies to good effect to keep the peace. Also in the category of Hitchcockian twists, we get a train journey which goes awry, and a blind THRUSH spymaster.
The enduring virtues of this first season of UNCLE are all on display here: Beautiful black and white photography, excellently paced and witty storytelling, a charming antagonist (or is he????), some lovely Walter Scharf jazzy music, and of course Robert Vaughn. He is the King Of Cool. Leo G Carroll could well have been the King of Cool in his earlier career, which is why he is perfectly cast as part of the regular UNCLE triumvirate. Witness, for example, the effortless Waverley karate chop and his deeply devious machinations. There should also be a special mention for Ralph Taeger as THRUSH prisoner Egon Stryker, who almost manages to out-cool Robert Vaughn, and another to the blind THRUSH spy hunter co-ordinating their chase. This episode is definitely recommended. I suppose the Innocent of the week is a bit bland, to make a negative.
We're well into our closing straight on 'The Man From UNCLE'. Next, 'The Secret Sceptre Affair', if all goes well.
O.
Tuesday, 7 August 2018
Television: 'The West Wing: Inauguration - Over There' (2003) (Episode 4x14)
This is a joyous episode of 'The West Wing', as if Aaron Sorkin had finally put all the baggage of the election storyline in the past, and focussed on just making the best half-season of television possible before his departure. All the favourite supporting characters are pulled back in, Bartlet is indeed allowed to be Bartlet, Josh and Donna are getting lots of screen time, and my favourite character of Will Bailey is here, punching above his weight for just half a season and putting the departed Sam Seaborn into an almost instant forgotten limbo. Sam who? Rob Lowe who? It's Joshua Malina all the way to the end now, people! It must have been nice to not have Rob Lowe (reportedly) agitating for more screen time constantly. Oh, and Danny and Zoey are back too. It's almost as if season one is picking up all over again.
One of the continuing natural storylines of the series was that of Bartlet allowing himself to do the right thing, despite a lifetime of holding himself in due to the restrictions of his offices and of looking to the future. That was all the limitation we ever really needed in the show, with the rotten MS storyline being an extremely forced method to make re-election look like something less than an absolutely certainty. The daddy issues hampering him in the campaign a bit better, though. Here, we get the ultimate version of the Bartlet dilemma, where the standard policy of only intervening in overseas conflicts when Americans are endangered finally comes to a crunch, and needling from the newly arrived Will and some influencing from Laurel and Hardy finally push him into following his conscience. Thus, we get the best of Bartlet and the best of Will, against the backdrop of an inauguration and several balls, concluding in the formalization of Will's continuing role in the West Wing. It's classical, and there can never be too much of Stan and Ollie.
In other parts of the episode, we get things for absolutely everyone to do. CJ gets to bounce off of the returned Danny, Danny gets to bounce off absolutely everyone delightfully when he's in the party to get a wrongfully shamed Donna out of her apartment and into the balls, Toby and Josh get several wonderful moments of just hanging around and being brilliant, and Charlie gets to assert his love for Zoey Bartlet before realising the battle ahead of him. Everyone gets something to do. Everyone! Well, everyone except Sam Seaborn, who is inexplicably absent and promoted to non-existence at the end.
Ultimately, this could be analysed to death, but the secret to the wonder of this episode is that it's plainly joyous, and increasingly so as the episode goes on. The right thing was going to be done, we all knew it was going be done, and then it was. Tears of joy were shed. Brilliant, and if you weren't already in love with Donna, then here is occasion eighty-four for that to happen. All hail Janel Moloney.
O.
One of the continuing natural storylines of the series was that of Bartlet allowing himself to do the right thing, despite a lifetime of holding himself in due to the restrictions of his offices and of looking to the future. That was all the limitation we ever really needed in the show, with the rotten MS storyline being an extremely forced method to make re-election look like something less than an absolutely certainty. The daddy issues hampering him in the campaign a bit better, though. Here, we get the ultimate version of the Bartlet dilemma, where the standard policy of only intervening in overseas conflicts when Americans are endangered finally comes to a crunch, and needling from the newly arrived Will and some influencing from Laurel and Hardy finally push him into following his conscience. Thus, we get the best of Bartlet and the best of Will, against the backdrop of an inauguration and several balls, concluding in the formalization of Will's continuing role in the West Wing. It's classical, and there can never be too much of Stan and Ollie.
In other parts of the episode, we get things for absolutely everyone to do. CJ gets to bounce off of the returned Danny, Danny gets to bounce off absolutely everyone delightfully when he's in the party to get a wrongfully shamed Donna out of her apartment and into the balls, Toby and Josh get several wonderful moments of just hanging around and being brilliant, and Charlie gets to assert his love for Zoey Bartlet before realising the battle ahead of him. Everyone gets something to do. Everyone! Well, everyone except Sam Seaborn, who is inexplicably absent and promoted to non-existence at the end.
Ultimately, this could be analysed to death, but the secret to the wonder of this episode is that it's plainly joyous, and increasingly so as the episode goes on. The right thing was going to be done, we all knew it was going be done, and then it was. Tears of joy were shed. Brilliant, and if you weren't already in love with Donna, then here is occasion eighty-four for that to happen. All hail Janel Moloney.
O.
Sunday, 5 August 2018
Book: 'The Black Spectacles' a.k.a. 'The Problem Of The Green Capsule' (1939) by John Dickson Carr
These earlier John Dickson Carr novels from the 1930s really seem to hit a specific button that works with me. The prose is denser, there is more detail, there is a greater tendency to just go off on dialogue tangents, and everything is just a tinge funnier. Ah, 'twas a grand time in the world of mystery writing. On this occasion, in the tenth novel of the Gideon Fell series, an Inspector Elliott (apparently featured in the previous novel) is sent to investigate the goings on and repercussions of a long cold poisoning incident in the village of Sodbury, but arrives to discover a new and even more mysterious murder. Most unfortunately, all the suspects in the murder of Marcus Chesney were witnesses to the event, and one of them is the woman that Elliott loves. Is that a stretch too far, to have the detective be in love with the very definitely prime suspect? In this case, it mostly works.
It's a grand mystery, with lots of minor twists and turns, and one whole character who is a literal red herring, in that we never see him at all! Is that a spoiler? No, of course not. In fact, you could argue that there are two such characters, although that might not really make sense at all. I blame John Dickson Carr for all this foolishness. What an insanely clever writer he was.
One of the games in any Gideon Fell novel is wondering just when the verbose and titanic genius is going to make his entrance. In this case, he doesn't appear until the end of about the first third, and has to be recruited from a spa town after being mentioned at the beginning of the story. He almost gets to give a lecture in the style of that famous chapter from the masterpiece 'The Hollow Man', but it is averted, and he seems to come to grips with the case pretty quickly. The know it all! Fell is actually very diplomatic in this one, withholding information for the inspector's sake, the prime suspect's sake and even just for dramatic effect. The critical twists are pretty good this time, with one being provided by the dead man himself, which will be an inexplicable lure to a reader yet to get through 'The Black Spectacles'.
There hasn't been much on the plot of the novel here, has there? It's partly intentional, as talking about the story of an 'impossible mystery' is definitely not a helpful thing to do. The reveal is very nice, and is best not even approached. It's better to talk about the inexplicable opening in Italy instead.
Thank goodness for John Dickson Carr.
O.
It's a grand mystery, with lots of minor twists and turns, and one whole character who is a literal red herring, in that we never see him at all! Is that a spoiler? No, of course not. In fact, you could argue that there are two such characters, although that might not really make sense at all. I blame John Dickson Carr for all this foolishness. What an insanely clever writer he was.
One of the games in any Gideon Fell novel is wondering just when the verbose and titanic genius is going to make his entrance. In this case, he doesn't appear until the end of about the first third, and has to be recruited from a spa town after being mentioned at the beginning of the story. He almost gets to give a lecture in the style of that famous chapter from the masterpiece 'The Hollow Man', but it is averted, and he seems to come to grips with the case pretty quickly. The know it all! Fell is actually very diplomatic in this one, withholding information for the inspector's sake, the prime suspect's sake and even just for dramatic effect. The critical twists are pretty good this time, with one being provided by the dead man himself, which will be an inexplicable lure to a reader yet to get through 'The Black Spectacles'.
There hasn't been much on the plot of the novel here, has there? It's partly intentional, as talking about the story of an 'impossible mystery' is definitely not a helpful thing to do. The reveal is very nice, and is best not even approached. It's better to talk about the inexplicable opening in Italy instead.
Thank goodness for John Dickson Carr.
O.
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