Books: The Literary Reflection, XVI

Yes, it's time to dig through the recent readings and see what's what.


'The Killing Of Polly Carter' (Death In Paradise) (2015) by Robert Thorogood
This is a major improvement on the first novel in the series, 'A Meditation On Murder', with many more red herrings and less of the television series's gimmicks in evidence. I suspect that it would be fair to say this is more in line with the spirit of the series than the first, by adhering less to the letter of it all, but I've not seen it, so this is all speculation. In 'The Killing Of Polly Carter', Thorogood integrates all the major characters of the Richard Poole era of 'Death In Paradise' in a much better fashion, telegraphs the plotline far less, and incorporates the supremely awkward Poole in a much more natural way. The mystery, the apparent suicide of retired supermodel Polly Carter, leads to an awful lot of drug-related histories, and is quite awkward if you don't like that sort of thing, but is otherwise good. I liked it. Now it's time to wait for the hardback of the third book, as the first two were accidentally in hardback and now it's time to be hideously consistent...


'Unicorn Variations' (1983) by Roger Zelazny
Finally, another set of short stories and fragments over, and this one was nice. I was expecting endlessly gloomy endings, but it was mixed, and there were a few good to hilarious endings. In particular, the titular 'Unicorn Variations' and 'The George Business' are quite fun, and 'Home Is The Hangman' has a surprisingly optimistic ending in the context of a murder mystery. 'My Lady Of The Diodes' was a pretty good romp too. This set seemed more enjoyable than the collection 'The Last Defender Of Camelot', and still needs to be compared with the latter of the two collection titled 'The Doors of His Face, the Lamps of His Mouth'. Good, veering toward very good.


'Battlestations!' (Star Trek) (1991) by Diane Carey
Yes, it's time for the sequel to 'Dreadnought!', and once again it's time to recuse myself from any sense of impartiality. I read this many, many times while growing up and it still has that connection. Yes, there's a tendency toward lengthy prose and intimations of long communication-filled stares, but it does have a certain something to it. There are some really nice science fiction ideas, a good dose of 'Star Trek' continuity mixed in, some great lines, and a much more interesting dynamic in play as Piper and her gang attempt to pull off their part in a larger operation to avoid a cosmic scramble when the incredible prototype for transwarp drive is stolen and put up for sale to the highest bidder. It's either good, or I'm reading through rose-tinted binoculars, and I don't know which.

I wonder what happened to Piper and her crew after the events pf 'Battlestations!'? It's a little bit of a pity that Carey never returned to this bunch, which manage to succeed despite being a bit of a clone of the main Enterprise crew. Is it okay to copycat like this? Aargh. I do now know what to think! That moment at the very end is priceless, though.


'The Case Of The Constant Suicides' (Gideon Fell) (1941) by John Dickson Carr
This story is quite highly regarded, but it ultimately came off as being a middle of the pack 'Gideon Fell' novel. The gimmick employed was ingenius, though, and one which I never saw coming. That's the magical thing about the Carr novels, that idea that catches you unawares even in the slighter narratives. Yes, the romance between the two historians is lovely, and the crazy Scottish aristocrats are funny, and there are some chilling moments... Oh, maybe it's better than my opinion. Perhaps the central mystery of why that castle owner jumped from the tower window is defused by the long period of time before the second supposed suicide, or perhaps the comedic nature of many of the scenes at the castle unconsciously clash with the life or death perils behind the scenes? Let's call it good. Why not? It is very insubstantial, though. I could go around in circles on this one all day.


'Mystery Mile' (Albert Campion) (1930) by Margery Allingham
This second 'Campion' novel is much better than the first, and finally makes the titular adventurer the protagonist of the story, as we get a partial follow-up to 'The Crime At Black Dudley', hidden in a stand-alone story. Campion is a very interesting character, and the revelations we get on his character, both directly and as revealed by his ex-criminal manservant Lugg, reveal a far more interesting person than you might expect of the time. The question of why exactly he was working for a bunch of crooks in 'Black Dudley' is never explained, though.

Does the book add anything that wasn't present in the television adaptation? The order of events may have been tampered with slightly in the dramatisation, but it's ultimately the exact same story. Campion still has to protect a retired judge, who claims to have the clue that will identify the mysterious man at the head of the Simister gang. He takes the judge and his family to the country house of some friends of his, and events unfold. It's very well written, very character-driven, and very well put together. Would it be as good without Peter Davison's and Brian Glover's shadows falling over proceedings? Probably, yes.

At the moment, after two entries in the series, this is above 'Lord Peter Wimsey', but we shall see.


O.

Books: 'The Elenium' by David Eddings (1989-1991)

'The Diamond Throne' (1989)

This is actually rather impressive. I've always been a little reluctant to re-read the Elenium due to the ticking timer at its core, and the more adult tone, but courage has been accumulated and the sense of wonder re-stoked. The 'Elenium' and the 'Belgariad' represent the peak of David Eddings, when he was constructing whole worlds with seeming ease, and not merely repeating the same patterns with a twist.

After the raging medievalism/barbarism/whatever-ism of 'The Belgariad', we get a totally different setup in 'The Diamond Throne'. Gone are the various races, each with its own stereotype or cliches, and the innocent naive hero with his soldierly companions and sorcerous mentors. Here we have a battered Knight of the Church, a continent-wide religion which crosses state lines and influences everything to some degree, with its own capital city and leader. However, Sir Sparhawk is also the Champion of his own Queen, and she has been poisoned. It's a very different scenario when your hero is returning from an exile, already knows the ropes and levers of government, and is as cynical as they come. The magic is different too, operating not by the Will and the Word, but by spells and incantations calling on the power of the mysterious Younger Gods of Styricum, a minority race on the continent.

Now, having read this at a formative age and reacting a little negatively at the time, I can't entirely pretend to be impartial about 'The Diamond Throne', but the writing is impressive. That is undeniable. It's not as driven a story as the first part of the 'Belgariad', with protagonists who don't have a clear path to follow, but the meanderings as they work out just what is going on around them are entertaining, and the characterizations are nice. The power is mainly in the world-building and the variations of the kingdoms of the conintent of Eosia, as well as in the complex shenanigans of a world with an overriding Church and occasional ghosts. Fiction wouldn't be fiction without a few ghosts wandering around with things on their minds.

That ticking clock still annoys me, though. It's integral to the whole thing and vexes considerably. Blast it all.


'The Ruby Throne' (1990)

'The Ruby Knight' has a very odd moment, where everything is supposed to turn around, but the effect is that of a handbrake turn toward where the story needs to go. As a consequence, it's a book which is definitely of two halves. To begin, we have the continuation of 'The Sapphire Throne', and then we segue fully into the proper and directed hunt for 'The Bhelliom' and the conclusion that will come in 'The Sapphire Rose'.

We get lots of character work, a segue into horror, some tussles with the hideous creature that is the Seeker, a bit of necromancy, some flirtation, and a lot of intrigue. Mainly, however, 'The Ruby Knight' sets us up for the final part of the story. What will happen once they release Ehlana from her sustaining crystal and heal her? And what has the hideous god Azash got to do with it all? The final book will reveal all. Or will it?


'The Sapphire Rose' (1991)

And so we come to the end of 'The Elenium', and wonder just what we have read. Sparhawk ends up married to his Queen in the opening of the book instead of the end, an emasculated god is killed, a protagonist dies, and we get one of those epic endings. Actually, we also get one of those post-script endings that I enjoy so much, after the main narrative has completed, and everyone settles down into an idyllic life of sorts. Well, it's not quite like that time, as we get a global grieving of sorts, followed by a monumental Spring, but it's still nice. Things do go on, and just as we enter the story 'en media res', so do we also leave it, at a new beginning.

'The Sapphire Rose' is much more cohesive than 'The Ruby Knight', with no need for authorial interventions to turn the story. It does feel oddly disconnected, though, with the absence of the Child Goddess Aphrael, the ever so brief honeymoon, mental manipulations by dark forces, and the confrontation with the twisted God Azash. In between, we have the election of a new Archprelate (Pope) and the siege of the Holy City, so there is a lot going on. The intricacies of papal elections and corrupt ancient democracy are quite nice.

Despite the implied gripes, it's an amazing world construction, and the idea of the Child Goddess is very impressive. It's a bit gruesome, though, and probably unnecessarily so.


Overall, 'The Elenium' is a grand trilogy, which hooks up oddly in the middle. There is a massive amount of dialogue, and sometimes the characters seem a bit interchangeable, but it's a worthwhile read if you liked 'The Belgariad', without really equalling or surpassing it. Oh, the joys of very lengthy narrative!

O.

Television: 'The Man From UNCLE: The Hong Kong Shilling Affair' (1965) (Aired 1x24, Produced 1x25)

We're getting very close to the end of our journey through the black and white season of 'The Man From UNCLE', and we've had some duller times of late, but on this occasion we have a nice return to form in 'The Hong Kong Shilling Affair'. We still don't get enough Napoleon Solo, but the innocent of the week is the very interesting Glenn Corbett, an American student who falls in love with a femme fatale, and whom UNCLE recruits to help find an extremely valuable coin and a deeply black market auction house that is selling on international secrets.

After a few weeks of comparative blandness, we get a secret boss communicating with her stooges through some talking samurai armour, Ilya donning a ridiculous Mongolian warlord disguise, the brilliant name of 'Heavenly Cortelle' and... geese... Oh, and Ilya must have been getting bored because he did some duck impressions when warning Napoleon about the aforementioned guard geese. It was also nice to get out into the environs of the supposed Hong Kong, and have a piece of scenery become vital to the closure of the plot!

In this episode, Bernie the innocent really does get to steal the show to some extent, throwing in some laughs both during brawls with the fearsome Richard "Jaws' Kiel, and in his general behaviour. His love affair with the probably (but not certainly) Heavenly is pretty neat too, although it does remove any chance of Napoleon being the one who gets the girl this time. Oh, Napoleon, you have been a bit distant lately. What ails you, dear chap? At least he got to do some sneaking this week, that was something, although he also got captured and gagged with Bernie, so it was a mixed bag.

Ilya's duck impression really was an odd moment. It stuck in the mind as very incongruous. Perhaps it was McCallum that was bored? Or maybe he was feeling stifled by being under that all that latex and costume when he was playing the warlord?

This is a nice and stylish episode, with lots of sneakery, humour and humanity. Mr Waverley even makes a special phone call to remind Ilya and Napoleon that civilians are not expendable, which is odd as they've never really been considered that way, unless there have been a few stories in between episodes with horrific occurrences? Good grief, UNCLE, what have you done???

It's a recommended show.

O.

Books: The Literary Reflection, XV

It has been a while, hasn't it? Have we finally accumulated enough fragments to make a 'Literary Reflection'? Yes! Huzzah!


'Star Trek: Dreadnought!' (1986) by Diane Carey
Is it good, or is it just because it's 'Star Trek' and I read it when I was growing up? I'm not sure I could ever really answer that question. It's right there in the box called labelled 'confusion', along with 'The Belgariad' and a few other things. However, for all that confusion, it's still an enjoyable romp with what might be called a 'Star Trek Junior' crew. Diane Carey is right up there on my list of important 'Star Trek' authors, and that means something. She seems to have a link into the maritime side of the show that serves her very well. On this occasion, captaincy candidate Lieutenant Piper is re-assigned to the legendary starship Enterprise, under her hero Captain Kirk, and quickly lands herself in hot water and a potential galactic crisis. Will she and her ragtag mini-crew manage to save the situation before Kirk does? Well, it's a close call...


'The Crime At Black Dudley' (Campion) (1929) by Margery Allingham
Having watched all of the television 'Campion' in a month very recently, it seemed a natural choice to take a look at the books. As can be found via a little research, the first 'Campion' novel is very atypical of the series that follows, in that he is a side character and possibly a stooge for a Moriarty-style villain somewhere in the outer world of the story. Possibly. Also, this isn't a mystery story at all, but a thriller, in which a weekending party group is held hostage in a mansion by some hoodlums, who are intent on finding a mysterious item stolen by one of their number. It does turn unexpectedly into a mystery near the end, but in reality it's a thriller, and there are secret passages and romances in play. There's nothing truly remarkable, except perhaps that it's remarkably fluent for a mystery/thriller written in the 1920s, and seems somehow atypical for its time. Half-recommended.


'The Girl On The Boat' (1922) by PG Wodehouse
Venturing away from the 'Blandings' and 'Jeeves And Wooster' stories seems a bit risky when it comes to Wodehouse. In this case, 'The Girl On The Boat' is a relative dud, and rehash (or prehash) of many other Wodehouse novels but with less success. It has good moments, of course, but the underhanded tactics of the protagonist make it a harder experience than would it have been best with someone who had our sympathy. The novel does have the comparative merit of not being the incredibly awkward and mis-cast movie adaptation, though, and we do get another of the Wodehousian butlers, without whom the world would be the poorer.


'A Meditation On Murder' (Death In Paradise) (2015) by Robert Thorogood

Interesting. This is interesting. Not having seen the television series (shock horror!), this mystery was approached more or less purely on its own merits. In some ways, it fits in perfectly with what I call the 'Christopher Nolan Principle': 'In a world of hacks, a competent workman might be viewed as a genius.', which is not intended to put anyone down but instead put things in their perspective. This is a good attempt at a contemporary locked room murder, and is written well, one or two steps above standard 'bestseller drab'. In what I assume is homage/devotion/slavery/servitude to the original television medium, Inspector Richard Poole does spend a lot of time staring at the very novel locked room and wondering what he's missing, and we have a scene at the end where the detective brings the small band of suspects together for the Big Reveal. Oh, and there is a stubborn reluctance to ever consider anyone outside the small bunch of Most Obvious Suspects. Despite all those quibbles, it's a nice read, and probably even moreso for fans of the series. The second book is bound to be better. I feel it in the bones...


O.

Novel: 'Ivanhoe' (1819) by Sir Walter Scott

What a long journey for this novel. I first borrowed it from the school library many eons ago, forget to return it, and then it ended up unread on a shelf somewhere. Then, a small number of years ago, the conscience was finally pricked, and I ordered another copy, and started to read it. 'Ivanhoe' was a bit of a revelation. For some reason, I had the idea that it was going to be a very dry classic, but it ended up being a classic adventure yarn, somewhere on the epic side of things, and thoroughly inoffensive to all. It's strange to read all the historical emnity towards the Jewish people at that time, but it's important to remind people how things were, and learn from it.

It's hard to believe that 'Ivanhoe' was written two hundred years ago. Two hundred years. Two centuries. The language is quite dense, but otherwise it is very readable. My putting it down for an extended period and then having to restart is not a criticism of the book, but an indication of unstable times in the past year or two. Also, the classical mistake of reading the introduction was made, and in this case compounded by mis-reading the introduction. I was sure I read that one of the main characters would die, and that proved a deterrent, but in actuality no-one died. Well, people died, but none of the people we were following. It's actually strange, in that sense, to have zero relevant fatalities.

The fascinating part of 'Ivanhoe', apart from it being a swashbuckler that I never read, is the neat concision with which it incorporates what we now think of as 'The Robin Hood Story'. The tournement is in there, as are all his notable Merry Men except Maid Marian, and his encounter with King Richard. Prince John is in there, fomenting rebellion and trying to usurp the throne, and Friar Tuck proves a wonderful side character. It's not really clear why Wilfred of Ivanhoe gets to be the titular character though, as he's injured or sidelined for the vast majority of the story, and a bit wet the rest of the time.

There's a risk associated with long classical novels, that they might not support their own length, and just meander around for a few hundred pages in the mid-section, but 'Ivanhoe' seemed to maintain momentum. It helps that one of the major setpieces occurred in the middle, the besieging of a castle and the capture and kidnapping of the real central character, Rebecca the Jewess, the object of desire for the main antagonist, the very unsettled Knight Templar Brian de Bois-Gilbert.

Yes, this one is solidly recommended, but you may need reading stamina to successfully take it on. It's not for the sprinter.

O.

Books: The Literary Reflection, XIV

This set covers a long period of time, but it's time to get it out there. Once again, these are the books which either didn't go well, or aren't quite substantial enough to warrant a post of their own. It's not necessarily a bad thing to be in 'The Literary Reflection'!


'The Thin Man' (1934) by Dashiell Hammett
Oh, 'The Thin Man', a novel that is equal in stature to its film adaptation, but which has very little going on beyond the obviously brilliant prose. Therein lies the problem: It's wonderful but slight. Some people wouldn't even call that a problem, but for me it hinders re-readability, especially when the film also exists. The book is superior in structure, lacking the horrific preamble tacked on to its screen equivalent, but it doesn't have William Powell or the possibly diving Myrna Loy. They both have the great dialogue, though. Oh, Hammett, you were a wonder!


'Star Trek: The Wrath Of Khan' (1982) by Vonda N McIntyre
Ah, more 'Star Trek' and more novelizations. I've always been a bit shy of this novelization for some reason, preferring those for the other original cast movies, but that long string of illness (still ongoing, lingeringly) allowed plenty of opportunities and so it came into the rotation. 'Wrath Of Khan' tries to tread a tricky path, following the plot of one of the best movies made, while adding things which were wholly absent in that screen version. We get added background stories for Saavik and Peter Preston, motivation and character for Khan's chief henchman Joaquim, character arcs for some of the other Genesis scientists, and some other details which change the tone of the story markedly. This is definitely one of those instances where a well-written adaptation still doesn't live up to the original, as some of the subtext becomes explicit text and loses potency. It's good, but definitely alternative instead of complementary. Watch the movie instead.


'The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd' (1926) by Agatha Christie
This is one of the most famous Agatha Christie mysteries, and one of her Poirot stories. You see, every so often, Christie went off and employed what was then called a 'gimmick', and this is one of the finest, creating a legacy in all following mystery stories. As a result, this is both famous, for the high quality of writing, and infamous for the central trick. It's so good that I have given it as a gift on several occasions, and often consider throwing it at students as a reading practice! Unusually for a Christie, it can be reread without becoming tedious. Well done.


'The Vatican Rip' (Lovejoy) (1981) by Jonathan Gash
This is where we part company with the 'Lovejoy' series of novels, as this more gloomy and sweary than usual example finally pushes me over the edge. I suppose it's okay as an entry into the series, and has unique features, but it's just too much. In combination with the ongoing inconsistencies, it's just a stinky mess to wade through. Oh, for a ray of sunlight in that dreary world. Knocking off the Vatican? Ha! Not likely at all.


'Captain Cut-Throat' (1955) by John Dickson Carr
There is more exposition than you might expect in this Napoleonic-era thriller, but there are some thrilling moments too. Your liking for this will will on what you expect from such a story, and whether you can accept a non-mystery from the king of the intricate mysteries. My own inclination is to like it quite a lot, but to be a little annoyed at the long spells of explanatory dialogue. On the other hand, it was read pretty speedily, which is a recommendation in itself. Non-military stories in this era are pretty rare, and espionage tales are almost unheard of. The closest other book in the collection is probably 'A Tale Of Two Cities', which is set in pre-Napoleonic France and Britain, but is close enough for jazz.

A brief synopsis? A top British agent is captured in France, and blackmailed by the French secret service into trying to identify and capture the invisible assassin who is killing French sentries and causing panic. Mixed into this are the agent's estranged wife, a beautiful enemy femme fatale, and two cavalry troopers with possible secrets of their own. Hanging over them all is the shadow of the Emperor, and the French spymaster Fouche, who may know more than all of them. Is Captain Cut-Throat a real person, or just a trap? Does our hero have more cards up his sleeve than we're aware of? You will have to read it to find out. Recommended.


O.

Book: 'Moon Shot' (2009?) by Dan Parry

Fifty years ago, three men strapped themselves to the top of a rocket, and were launched on a week long journey, to land on the Moon and return. Yes, the Moon. It was and is amazing, and it was the culmination of a massive amount of work, including two previous Apollo missions around the Moon, without landings. 'Moon Shot' tells a dual narrative, swapping between the story of the space program in general, and the preparations and proceedings of the Apollo 11 crew specifically.

You can't help but be impressed by the courage and careful planning involved in this ridiculous undertaking, and the pressures being felt as the Soviets played their own part in this grand race into space. It's really very disturbing that no human has left Low Earth Orbit since the last moon landing in 1972. That's forty-seven years, for those counting. Apparently the race meant more than the project, for the people paying the bills.

This is a nice book, with some gorgeous photos and deep biographical information on Armstrong, Collins and Aldrin. The information on the preceding Mercury missions and the general development of space flight was probably the more interesting part for me, however. The grand sweep of that process is fascinating. Completely fascinating. Parry is definitely a gifted writer, and he uses first hand accounts and excellent research to make an already dynamic story resonate on the page.

It's still very hard to believe that anyone could really launch themselves into space on top of a giant firework rocket and then land on the moon in a tin foil capsule, before returning in one piece. Yes, they may have been test pilots and drenched in the spirit of maddening courage, but it has that bizarre smell of unreality to it. It's no wonder that people disbelieved the veracity of the Moon landings for so long.

The human costs of the Space Program become clear as you read, culminating in the final cost for the Apollo 11 crew, that of becoming icons and losing their anonymity and to some extent their connection to the world as conventional human beings. All of the glamour of the Space Program was attached to them, while the other astronauts live in the shadow.

Yes, it really has been more than fifty years since we first sent people around the Moon. What a grand project it was, and how well it has been documented. As I get to more books about the Space Program, this one will be put into more perspective, but it is for now my first and the best.

O.