It has been about a year and a half since the Quirky Muffin was in full swing, and the time has probably come for another update. The interruption began due to a horrible consolidated chest infection, and has continued through bowel problems and only recently qualified asthma and lactose intolerance. Stress effects, perhaps? (Lactose tip: switch to almond milk, and guzzle lactobacillic probiotic yogurt. It feels like a spell in limbo.) As a result, it has been and continues to be a time of diminished energy and interest, which has been exacerbated by a Big Birthday. Maybe we'll get back to something close to that which came before, and maybe we won't, but there is hope. Maybe an upgrade in asthma inhaler is a step toward better things, instead of a slide toward stranger times.
So, all things being equal, what is to come soon (relatively speaking) here on the weblog? ('Blog' is an abbreviation, after all.) We should finally finish off the 'Man From UNCLE' series of posts sometime soon, push out a brace of book posts (really late and far too long after reading the texts), and blather on with some commentary on this, that and hopefully nothing about the Thing That Is Going On (Or Not) here in old Blighty.
In a side note, business is close to booming on the Oliver Scale Of Activity, and I'm also trying desperately to get back into writing stories. Not the serialised web stories, but real ones for publication one day. It's not the worst idea in the world, although time and commitment are limited at this point on the personal string of life. It would be lovely to finish writing 'The Misadventures Of Clomp' finally. The main problem with writing is that, for me, it works the best as a displacement activity from things I really should be doing instead. A lot of my main phase of excessive story writing took place during an extremely boring higher national diploma in something or other. Oh, that was fun.
Well, this wasn't too horrific an experience. Perhaps I'll do it again sometime soon. A lot of the vocabulary has vanished, but I can extemporise a little between students and whatever else pops up from time to time. Right? Maybe? Rhinoceros?
This Muffin is still Quirky.
O.
Friday, 20 September 2019
Thursday, 15 August 2019
Books: The Literary Reflection, XVIII
And so the wheel turns once again, and another batch of books makes it into 'The Literary Reflection'. Perhaps, in days gone by or days still to come, some of these might get a post all their own, but for now they will get a snippet each. Reading four novels over fourteen hours of coach travel is a bit draining to the grey cells.
'The White Company' (1891) by Arthur Conan Doyle
Expectations were mixed when I decided to get 'The White Company', but it turned out to be a very good adventure novel, albeit it one with a slightly disappointing ending. Set during the Hundred Years War, and chronicling the adventures of a young nobleman called Alleyne upon his leaving monastery life, the novel is in many ways an epic. Alleyne becomes the squire of a gung ho knight called Sir Nigel Loring, who is asked to take over the command of a mercenary troop called the White Company and participate in the war against Spain, and the story is about the journey to find that command and about Alleyne's love for Loring's precocious daughter.
It really is an unexpectedly good read, which shouldn't be surprising at all for something written by Doyle, but it's also quite slight. It's probably best to consider it in the same bracket as 'Ivanhoe', which is a compliment, and class it as a adolescent adventure story. A good one. The supporting characters are good, and some of the episodes during the narrative are gripping, but there is a significant problem with the ending, wherein several heroic sacrifices were reversed in order to provide a happy ending. It seems rather strange for me, the advocate of not killing people in stories, to say that!
'Below Suspicion' (Gideon Fell) (1947) by John Dickson Carr
It's time for another story with Dr Gideon Fell, the almost supernaturally smart sleuth with no boundaries. On this occasion, Fell is tangentially connected with a string of poisonings, along with ace counsel for the defence Patrick Butler. In fact, Butler becomes far more involved than is wise, being interested in two consecutive suspects. Dr Fell doesn't appear heavily in the story, until near the end, and it would be deeply counter-productive to reveal the denouement of it all. His involvement is, however, a pivotal part of the story. Really, it's a Patrick Butler story, as he is confounded by his belief in his own infallibility, and the perils of falling in love. Overall, this is very good, with not much mystery except for one key misunderstanding. The final confrontation is a doozy, where suddenly that misunderstanding is overturned and all makes sense, and no more can safely be said.
'The Trials Of Rumpole' (Rumpole) (1979) by John Mortimer
This second set of Rumpole stories doesn't stick in the mind nearly so much as the first, which might be because it was read during a long and sleepy coach journey, in a bit of a determined rush. The one story of the six that definitely sticks out is the last one, 'Rumpole And The Age Of Retirement', wherein a family plot to make the loquacious barrister retire is twinned with another Timson family plot to force one of their venerable clan into retiring from fencing goods.
Actually, in retrospect, details of some more of the stories do come to mind. There is the unforgettable liaison between Guthrie Featherstone and a rebellious clerk, the doomed engagement of the perpetually wimpy George, and the inexplicable relationship between Erskine-Brown and the delightful Phylidda Trant. Oh, and a parallel between working as a barrister and working in the theatre! There is a lot here, after all.
Why, Miss Trant? Why was it Erskine-Brown? I sigh in confusion.
'The Stainless Steel Rat For President' (Stainless Steel Rat) (1982) by Harry Harrison
Jim DiGriz returns once again, in what might have been the chronological end of his adventures, as Harrison went back to fill in the beginning of his story after this episode. Filling in prehistory is a disgusting habit, isn't it? Perhaps they will be good books, anyway? In any case, in 'The Stainless Steel Rat For President', Jim is lured to the newly rediscovered planet of Nuevo Paraiso (New Paradise) by the discovery of a corpse with his name figuratively written all over it. Nuevo Paraiso isn't quite the paradise it claims to be, however, since it has been ruled by a democratically elected (and nefariously re-elected) presidential dictator for more than a century. Thus, taking this as a crooked challenge, Jim decides to out-rig the election and bring the (pun-laden) world to its honestly democratic fate. This is another decent episode in the solid Rat series, but on this occasion the DiGriz family unit really feels bolted on, and we miss the Special Corps background a little. Sometimes, you just want that rogue running alone and in great danger! Also, the Rat is clearly beginning to feel his age, which is a bit sad. Oh, horror, horror indeed.
O.
'The White Company' (1891) by Arthur Conan Doyle
Expectations were mixed when I decided to get 'The White Company', but it turned out to be a very good adventure novel, albeit it one with a slightly disappointing ending. Set during the Hundred Years War, and chronicling the adventures of a young nobleman called Alleyne upon his leaving monastery life, the novel is in many ways an epic. Alleyne becomes the squire of a gung ho knight called Sir Nigel Loring, who is asked to take over the command of a mercenary troop called the White Company and participate in the war against Spain, and the story is about the journey to find that command and about Alleyne's love for Loring's precocious daughter.
It really is an unexpectedly good read, which shouldn't be surprising at all for something written by Doyle, but it's also quite slight. It's probably best to consider it in the same bracket as 'Ivanhoe', which is a compliment, and class it as a adolescent adventure story. A good one. The supporting characters are good, and some of the episodes during the narrative are gripping, but there is a significant problem with the ending, wherein several heroic sacrifices were reversed in order to provide a happy ending. It seems rather strange for me, the advocate of not killing people in stories, to say that!
'Below Suspicion' (Gideon Fell) (1947) by John Dickson Carr
It's time for another story with Dr Gideon Fell, the almost supernaturally smart sleuth with no boundaries. On this occasion, Fell is tangentially connected with a string of poisonings, along with ace counsel for the defence Patrick Butler. In fact, Butler becomes far more involved than is wise, being interested in two consecutive suspects. Dr Fell doesn't appear heavily in the story, until near the end, and it would be deeply counter-productive to reveal the denouement of it all. His involvement is, however, a pivotal part of the story. Really, it's a Patrick Butler story, as he is confounded by his belief in his own infallibility, and the perils of falling in love. Overall, this is very good, with not much mystery except for one key misunderstanding. The final confrontation is a doozy, where suddenly that misunderstanding is overturned and all makes sense, and no more can safely be said.
'The Trials Of Rumpole' (Rumpole) (1979) by John Mortimer
This second set of Rumpole stories doesn't stick in the mind nearly so much as the first, which might be because it was read during a long and sleepy coach journey, in a bit of a determined rush. The one story of the six that definitely sticks out is the last one, 'Rumpole And The Age Of Retirement', wherein a family plot to make the loquacious barrister retire is twinned with another Timson family plot to force one of their venerable clan into retiring from fencing goods.
Actually, in retrospect, details of some more of the stories do come to mind. There is the unforgettable liaison between Guthrie Featherstone and a rebellious clerk, the doomed engagement of the perpetually wimpy George, and the inexplicable relationship between Erskine-Brown and the delightful Phylidda Trant. Oh, and a parallel between working as a barrister and working in the theatre! There is a lot here, after all.
Why, Miss Trant? Why was it Erskine-Brown? I sigh in confusion.
'The Stainless Steel Rat For President' (Stainless Steel Rat) (1982) by Harry Harrison
Jim DiGriz returns once again, in what might have been the chronological end of his adventures, as Harrison went back to fill in the beginning of his story after this episode. Filling in prehistory is a disgusting habit, isn't it? Perhaps they will be good books, anyway? In any case, in 'The Stainless Steel Rat For President', Jim is lured to the newly rediscovered planet of Nuevo Paraiso (New Paradise) by the discovery of a corpse with his name figuratively written all over it. Nuevo Paraiso isn't quite the paradise it claims to be, however, since it has been ruled by a democratically elected (and nefariously re-elected) presidential dictator for more than a century. Thus, taking this as a crooked challenge, Jim decides to out-rig the election and bring the (pun-laden) world to its honestly democratic fate. This is another decent episode in the solid Rat series, but on this occasion the DiGriz family unit really feels bolted on, and we miss the Special Corps background a little. Sometimes, you just want that rogue running alone and in great danger! Also, the Rat is clearly beginning to feel his age, which is a bit sad. Oh, horror, horror indeed.
O.
Thursday, 8 August 2019
Books: The Literary Reflection, XVII
There's no way around it. There are three weblogs worth of book posts to write, and this first one has been gathering dust since April. Oh, the shame, the infamy, the dawdling while mildly sick...
'The Stainless Steel Rat Wants You' (Stainless Steel Rat) (1978) by Harry Harrison
On this occasion, Slippery Jim DiGriz and his now grown family have to save the known galaxy from an invasion of non-humanoid aliens. Yes, they do exist! However, there may be an even more nefarious threat behind the aliens, and even more special Corps than Jim's own Special Corps. This latest instalment in the series is as entertaining as the previous entries, and is a touch more substantial as we get to grips with the true story behind the sinister Grey Men. It's still funny, still some of the more fantastic science fiction that you might easily find, and still completely daft.
'Galileo's Daughter' (1999) by Dava Sobel
This is an interesting read. Apparently almost all of Galileo's correspondence was lost, but the letters from his daughter to him still exist, which are reproduced and translated here in relation to his story. The description and title of the book are rather deceptive, though, as this is almost entirely about Galileo at its heart. Yes, there is some information about Virginia, and life in her convent and local area, but there's no doubt who the star of the history is. Still, if you want a primer on Galileo without diving deep in a more serious account, then this is a good place to start. Superficially, Galileo was certainly a genius, but he definitely seems to have partly destroyed himself by playing games with his own religion in an era when that Church utterly dominated his land. He did poke the bear. Never poke a bear without a pressing need.
'Right Ho, Jeeves' (Jeeves And Wooster) (1934) by PG Wodehouse
Back in the Wodehousian lands, we reach 'Right Ho, Jeeves', in which Bertie first becomes entangled in the romantic web between Madeline Bassett, the bringer of insipid chaos, and Gussie Fink-Nottle, the king of newts. Oh the horror and confusion that ensues when Bertie decides that Jeeves has lost his touch, and opts to tackle the tangled webs himself! Tuppy Glossop and Cousin Angela torn asunder, Aunt Dahlia separated from her prized chef Anatole, the dreaded Basset turning to past (imagined) loves when Gussie stumbles, strange faces leering in through windows, and even more strife. This is not quite as good as 'The Code Of The Woosters', being a bit more forced in its contrivances, but the first appearances of the Bassett and the Fink-Nottle surely raises it to a higher level. Oh, the stars really are a bit like a god's daisychain, aren't they. I shall retire now, to wax poetic.
'Rumpole Of The Bailey' (Rumpole) (1978) by John Mortimer
This first set of short stories, adapted from the first series of the television series, is very interesting. Despite being rooted in a time long ago, the misadventures of John Mortimer's loquacious barrister are still shockingly prescient, and his ability to speak truths (and sometimes other things) without being hampered by what we now call political correctness can be shocking. Without having viewed the episodes in advance, it is impossible to write about the amount of adaptation necessary to get from screen to page, but you can still hear Leo McKern wandering around in his signature role. Good old Leo.
John Mortimer covers a lot of ground in these six stories, ranging from criminal dynasties and children being allowed to choose their own destinies, to alternative societies being allowed to flourish in their own little bubbles, via a quandary or two for Rumpole in rape cases and his own marital life. More words will be reserved for the television series, when it finally gets here. If it's even only comparable to this prose version, then it will be excellent. Come to us, McKern, come to us. Bring your quotations with you.
For now, you should definitely read this first set of stories, and see what you think.
O.
'The Stainless Steel Rat Wants You' (Stainless Steel Rat) (1978) by Harry Harrison
On this occasion, Slippery Jim DiGriz and his now grown family have to save the known galaxy from an invasion of non-humanoid aliens. Yes, they do exist! However, there may be an even more nefarious threat behind the aliens, and even more special Corps than Jim's own Special Corps. This latest instalment in the series is as entertaining as the previous entries, and is a touch more substantial as we get to grips with the true story behind the sinister Grey Men. It's still funny, still some of the more fantastic science fiction that you might easily find, and still completely daft.
'Galileo's Daughter' (1999) by Dava Sobel
This is an interesting read. Apparently almost all of Galileo's correspondence was lost, but the letters from his daughter to him still exist, which are reproduced and translated here in relation to his story. The description and title of the book are rather deceptive, though, as this is almost entirely about Galileo at its heart. Yes, there is some information about Virginia, and life in her convent and local area, but there's no doubt who the star of the history is. Still, if you want a primer on Galileo without diving deep in a more serious account, then this is a good place to start. Superficially, Galileo was certainly a genius, but he definitely seems to have partly destroyed himself by playing games with his own religion in an era when that Church utterly dominated his land. He did poke the bear. Never poke a bear without a pressing need.
'Right Ho, Jeeves' (Jeeves And Wooster) (1934) by PG Wodehouse
Back in the Wodehousian lands, we reach 'Right Ho, Jeeves', in which Bertie first becomes entangled in the romantic web between Madeline Bassett, the bringer of insipid chaos, and Gussie Fink-Nottle, the king of newts. Oh the horror and confusion that ensues when Bertie decides that Jeeves has lost his touch, and opts to tackle the tangled webs himself! Tuppy Glossop and Cousin Angela torn asunder, Aunt Dahlia separated from her prized chef Anatole, the dreaded Basset turning to past (imagined) loves when Gussie stumbles, strange faces leering in through windows, and even more strife. This is not quite as good as 'The Code Of The Woosters', being a bit more forced in its contrivances, but the first appearances of the Bassett and the Fink-Nottle surely raises it to a higher level. Oh, the stars really are a bit like a god's daisychain, aren't they. I shall retire now, to wax poetic.
'Rumpole Of The Bailey' (Rumpole) (1978) by John Mortimer
This first set of short stories, adapted from the first series of the television series, is very interesting. Despite being rooted in a time long ago, the misadventures of John Mortimer's loquacious barrister are still shockingly prescient, and his ability to speak truths (and sometimes other things) without being hampered by what we now call political correctness can be shocking. Without having viewed the episodes in advance, it is impossible to write about the amount of adaptation necessary to get from screen to page, but you can still hear Leo McKern wandering around in his signature role. Good old Leo.
John Mortimer covers a lot of ground in these six stories, ranging from criminal dynasties and children being allowed to choose their own destinies, to alternative societies being allowed to flourish in their own little bubbles, via a quandary or two for Rumpole in rape cases and his own marital life. More words will be reserved for the television series, when it finally gets here. If it's even only comparable to this prose version, then it will be excellent. Come to us, McKern, come to us. Bring your quotations with you.
For now, you should definitely read this first set of stories, and see what you think.
O.
Saturday, 22 June 2019
Television: 'The Man From UNCLE: The Girls From Nazarone Affair' (1965) (Aired 1x28, Produced 1x27)
Some lovely moments conspire against an uninspired story to make an episode which is perfectly fine, but not particularly special. It's definitely almost the end of a long, long season. You can imagine writing rooms of dazed people, staring blankly at hideously bland walls...
In 'The Girls From Nazarone Affair', Napoleon and Ilya arrive in the French Riviera, seeking the truth behind the disappearance of a scientist who may have invented a magical healing serum. (Note: Nothing good ever comes of serums in television, films or comic books.) The men from UNCLE then get tangled up with a holidaying lady schoolteacher (we've had a few of those this season!) in trying to determine the truth, and how it affects a not-dead woman racing driver they saw murdered.
Ultimately, this is almost worth it for the very memorable pool scene where Napoleon tries to steal along unobserved by using a pool mattress as a disguise. He and the Innocent Of The Week almost get eliminated on similar mattresses later. It could almost have been entitled 'The Deadly Pool Mattress Affair'! Sadly, the nasty serum is finally found to burn up the users from the inside out, and gets successfully stolen by THRUSH. In fact, the best moments of the episode are the ending, where Ilya pranks a defeated Napoleon by not telling him about the serum's nasty side-effects, and only gets found out via the consolations of the Innocent, Miss Brown. What would that post-credits fight have looked like??? There's no Mr Waverley this week, sadly, but there is an evil THRUSH scientist and mistress of disguise. In trivial details, Ilya gets caught again and thrown down a well, and the duo do quite a lot of unlawful entries into Miss Brown's various holiday homes.
It should be nicer, but this episode seem a bit vacuous, despite some stylish moments. Oh well, we have two left, and then we're done. Fortunately, at least one of those two is a stone cold classic!
O.
In 'The Girls From Nazarone Affair', Napoleon and Ilya arrive in the French Riviera, seeking the truth behind the disappearance of a scientist who may have invented a magical healing serum. (Note: Nothing good ever comes of serums in television, films or comic books.) The men from UNCLE then get tangled up with a holidaying lady schoolteacher (we've had a few of those this season!) in trying to determine the truth, and how it affects a not-dead woman racing driver they saw murdered.
Ultimately, this is almost worth it for the very memorable pool scene where Napoleon tries to steal along unobserved by using a pool mattress as a disguise. He and the Innocent Of The Week almost get eliminated on similar mattresses later. It could almost have been entitled 'The Deadly Pool Mattress Affair'! Sadly, the nasty serum is finally found to burn up the users from the inside out, and gets successfully stolen by THRUSH. In fact, the best moments of the episode are the ending, where Ilya pranks a defeated Napoleon by not telling him about the serum's nasty side-effects, and only gets found out via the consolations of the Innocent, Miss Brown. What would that post-credits fight have looked like??? There's no Mr Waverley this week, sadly, but there is an evil THRUSH scientist and mistress of disguise. In trivial details, Ilya gets caught again and thrown down a well, and the duo do quite a lot of unlawful entries into Miss Brown's various holiday homes.
It should be nicer, but this episode seem a bit vacuous, despite some stylish moments. Oh well, we have two left, and then we're done. Fortunately, at least one of those two is a stone cold classic!
O.
Saturday, 15 June 2019
Spinning Wheels
Today, in what might have been the event of the century for this tiny village of Pontyates, the Womens Tour of Cycling quickly ran through. Yes, an actual event came through. It was very unnerving, especially as it was on the road just in front of the shack that houses the Quirky Muffin.
Given the gravity of the moment, it felt essential to go and watch the ladies go by. They must have been absolutely exhausted from the hilly route, but they did make it here eventually. Cyclists must be classified as lunatics, mustn't they? It was a long wait for the maniacs to finally come through, and it was astounding to see so many police vehicles come through in advance and in following. There must have been dozens of police motorcycles. Dozens!
Sadly, after two highly concentrated lumps of cyclists came through, it all seemed to be over in an instant, and so I wandered off, but a few more did come through unobserved. Mutter mutter.
I hope they all made it to Pembrey. It would have been nice to finish by the sea.
O.
Given the gravity of the moment, it felt essential to go and watch the ladies go by. They must have been absolutely exhausted from the hilly route, but they did make it here eventually. Cyclists must be classified as lunatics, mustn't they? It was a long wait for the maniacs to finally come through, and it was astounding to see so many police vehicles come through in advance and in following. There must have been dozens of police motorcycles. Dozens!
Sadly, after two highly concentrated lumps of cyclists came through, it all seemed to be over in an instant, and so I wandered off, but a few more did come through unobserved. Mutter mutter.
I hope they all made it to Pembrey. It would have been nice to finish by the sea.
O.
Wednesday, 22 May 2019
Television: 'The Man From UNCLE: The Never-Never Affair' (1965) (Aired 1x25, Produced 1x26)
This could easily qualify for my favourite episode of 'The Man From UNCLE'. Not only do we have a very adorable Barbara Feldon, just prior to 'Get Smart' kicking off, but we also have Cesar Romero putting in a wonderfully charming performance and Napoleon being... nice! Oh, and Ilya almost gets burned alive.
In 'The Never-Never Affair', we get yet another inventive Innocent Of The Week, an UNCLE translator (Feldon) hungry for for some field work, whom Napoleon tries to calm down with a secretly harmless courier job for Mr Waverley. However, Mandy the translator crosses paths with a THRUSH squad out to obtain a vital microdot, led by the rogueish Victor Gervais (Romero). It all works very organically and very elegantly, partly due to the sheer accumulated charm of Robert Vaughn and Romero, and the utter coincidence that finally sees her trapped.
It's very nice to see the support staff at UNCLE be featured once again, and of course it helps to build the universe up a bit more. We may not have spent this much time with minor UNCLE staff since 'The Mad, Mad Tea Party Affair', which is another favourite. 'The Never-Never Affair' is also extremely pretty in its black and white photography, in a return to the crisp cinematic quality so evident in other great episodes, and is subtly reminiscent of 'Alice In Wonderland' as Mandy falls down a figurative rabbit hole. Does that make Napoleon or Victor the White Rabbit, though? Or do they both function that way? There is some great fire work too, some nice physical stuff for David McCallum to work through, and impressive physical acting from Vaughn. He was woefully underrated, wasn't he?
Where do they find these ridiculously beautiful UNCLE ladies, though, and how did they go extinct? Why does Napoleon's kindness so often seem to backfire? What happened in that movie cinema after they all left? Mr Waverley just loves to get out into the field in New York, doesn't he?
As with all my favourite episodes of this season, this is definitely Napoleon Solo's episode, culminating in the amazing backwards, tied up in a chair gunshot. Accidentally or not, he does save the day. Stopping a very gallant villain is always more interesting than stopping a rampant loon. Oh, and Barbara Feldon more than pulls her weight in the acting stakes.
Excellent, although the Agent 99 bias may be pulling.
O.
In 'The Never-Never Affair', we get yet another inventive Innocent Of The Week, an UNCLE translator (Feldon) hungry for for some field work, whom Napoleon tries to calm down with a secretly harmless courier job for Mr Waverley. However, Mandy the translator crosses paths with a THRUSH squad out to obtain a vital microdot, led by the rogueish Victor Gervais (Romero). It all works very organically and very elegantly, partly due to the sheer accumulated charm of Robert Vaughn and Romero, and the utter coincidence that finally sees her trapped.
It's very nice to see the support staff at UNCLE be featured once again, and of course it helps to build the universe up a bit more. We may not have spent this much time with minor UNCLE staff since 'The Mad, Mad Tea Party Affair', which is another favourite. 'The Never-Never Affair' is also extremely pretty in its black and white photography, in a return to the crisp cinematic quality so evident in other great episodes, and is subtly reminiscent of 'Alice In Wonderland' as Mandy falls down a figurative rabbit hole. Does that make Napoleon or Victor the White Rabbit, though? Or do they both function that way? There is some great fire work too, some nice physical stuff for David McCallum to work through, and impressive physical acting from Vaughn. He was woefully underrated, wasn't he?
Where do they find these ridiculously beautiful UNCLE ladies, though, and how did they go extinct? Why does Napoleon's kindness so often seem to backfire? What happened in that movie cinema after they all left? Mr Waverley just loves to get out into the field in New York, doesn't he?
As with all my favourite episodes of this season, this is definitely Napoleon Solo's episode, culminating in the amazing backwards, tied up in a chair gunshot. Accidentally or not, he does save the day. Stopping a very gallant villain is always more interesting than stopping a rampant loon. Oh, and Barbara Feldon more than pulls her weight in the acting stakes.
Excellent, although the Agent 99 bias may be pulling.
O.
Sunday, 28 April 2019
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.
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