Month: September 2020

Morse Gets Down and Dirty….

1:09 PM 17 APRIL 2017

Book 3 of the Dexter ‘set’ and a brooding Chief Inspector Morse grapples with the murder of a newly appointed member of the Oxford Examination Syndicate. Nicholas Quinn was deaf and though talented, not the unanimous choice of the other ‘syndics’, to join their studious ranks. Still, Morse needs to tease apart the complex social connections and doggedly unpick the dense layers of motivation and alibi to unmask the culprit.

My only criticisms would be the author’s penchant for conferring tawdry weakness indiscriminately (all of the key suspects appear to have an appetite for pornography). Dexter commonly challenges the superficial gloss of academia and Oxford, often juxtaposing it with contrastingly brutal and uncivilized aspects of ‘real’ life. However, the tarring of so many characters with the same feeble brush seemed strikingly implausible. So too, the final gathering of the academics to hear Morse’s conclusion. It felt rather reminiscent of Agatha Christie’s drawing room finales, but simply not as convincing.

I was coming round to the notion that fictional detectives are necessarily a reflection of their environment. But, in that case, Morse might be expected to evince rather more style and class. Certainly, in this book, the depth of the Chief Inspector’s intellect is rather betrayed by the shallow nature of his character. Even the long-suffering, up-holder of standards, DS Lewis, seemed to be detrimentally affected, as he went about his gofer duties. Perhaps, Morse will rediscover his love of opera and Wagner, conspicuously absent in this episode and be once more elevated to higher things. One can but hope!

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Journal of a Francophile

9:04 PM 14 APRIL 2017

“A Year in Provence” won the British Book Awards’ “Best Travel Book of the Year” in 1989 and without wishing to be disparaging, it is utterly charming! Month-by-month Peter Mayle describes his gradual assimilation into a new life in southern France and though not without challenges, the lifestyle retains enough of an idyllic quality as to be appealing to many a reader.

For example, the twelve months begins with a New Year’s Eve six course lunch with pink champagne. Typically, Brits have been enviously familiar with the obsession with food, which looms large in French culture, from the virtues of olive oil to the daily purchase of bread – vive la difference!  More recently, of course, we are arguably catching up, but regular references to the importance of food and drink and the superior Gallic appreciation of all things gastronomical, does lend the book a sumptuous feel. Still, this is simply garnish for descriptions of the local characters and landscapes Mayle encounters, which form the main course of his book.

Just the idea of a farmhouse with six acres located between the medieval villages of Menerbes and Bonnieux seems exotic, “at the end of a dirt track through cherry trees and vines”. And though the author recounts the unexpected difficulties with the climate and getting a series of tradesmen to deliver on the promised renovations, the Spring “evenings of corrugated pink skies…” seem fair compensation for the fact that the swimming pool isn’t for all-year-round use!

However, for me, the highlight of the book is undoubtedly the rather genteel descriptions of a host of local people, with whom Mayle develops a seemingly genuine affinity and who in turn, appear to accept the Englishman seeking to share in their slice of the ‘better life’. Indeed, the incessant visitors from home almost became intruders, inhibiting Mr & Mrs Mayle’s desire to luxuriate in their new home and be seamlessly absorbed into the community.

The lasting impression is that our neighbour’s  grass is inevitably greener, though it wouldn’t necessarily be everyone’s cup of tea. C’est la vie! 

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Morse losing his grip?

7:29 PM 3 APRIL 2017

In many ways, I suspect the stuttering advance of Morse towards the solution in this case is far closer to reality than the more common application of fictional detective brilliance. Yet, while the unusual failure of of our hero’s usually reliable brainpower is unsettling, in common with DS Lewis, I felt an irritating desire for Morse to ‘get a grip’!

Of course, for Morse, an investigation badged as a ‘missing person’ is intrinsically boring. Even more so, since the teenager (Valerie Taylor) had been missing for more than two years and the prospect of tedious routine police work was unappetizing. Throw in the temporary absence of Lewis to illness and we catch sight of an unflattering side of the Chief Inspector, repeatedly flailing around hypotheses that he can’t substantiate, without the grounding influence of his DS. Moreover the lewd thoughts of Morse, largely shorn of the civilizing effects of Wagner in this book, seemed a coarser, more shallow mortal. Perhaps this failure to behave as expected , to be ‘off his game’ and timorous in the face of potential defeat also contributed to an overall sense of disappointment.

Though the introduction of a murdered body did briefly suggest that Morse might shift through his mental gears in more familiar fashion, the early languid pace of the investigation was never really overcome. The tawdry nature of the circumstances were perhaps deliberately mundane, rather than sensational, which again contributed to the sense of ordinariness. I wouldn’t want to suggest the writing wasn’t exceptional, Dexter has a remarkable style, but for my part, I like Morse to be extraordinary, heroically so!

This is book two in the set of thirteen, but I am expecting greater things in the remaining novels.

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Love in a not so foreign land…

11:45 PM 31 MARCH 2017

Khaled Hosseini is a consummate story-teller and following the impact of his first novel – ‘The Kite Runner’ – his second was always likely to be awaited with bated breath. But, while there are plenty of examples of seminal music albums that have disappointing follow-ups, or movie sequels that never quite reach the highpoint of the original, in this book Hosseini cements his reputation as a genuinely gifted writer.

Once again set in Afghanistan, this story focuses on the respective journeys of two women – Mariam and Laila – and the dissection of the book into four parts helpfully describes their individual experiences, before interweaving their lives within the context of war-locked Kabul and a hinterland dominated by armed factions. Seen through the eyes of these women, this book also offers a powerful critique of a social structure, which layers disadvantage based on gender, wealth, religion, tribe, marriage,birth, language, disability, etc. The domestic violence, which they experience at the hands of their husband (Rasheed), is brutal and possible in the absence of protection for the vulnerable and a paternalistic culture which seems to regard women and children as chattels. However, perhaps unsurprisingly, the antidote to such systematic hardship proved to be the indomitable human spirit and the innate capacity for reciprocal love.

Almost in spite of the dire consequences of the soviet invasion and the transition to the equally destructive Taliban rule and its subsequent demise, the period covered by the book, Hosseini has managed to extricate a wonderfully uplifting tale of love in diverse forms. Positive and negative attachments to parents, the powerful but not universal instinct to protect children, as well as the strength of selfless romantic love, as distinct from pragmatic survival mechanisms, conjures up some challenging moral dilemmas for the reader. Moreover, the sisterly bonding of Mariam and Laila in an unspoken connection of damaged souls is arguably the most touching of all.

Amid the physical war damage and emotional carnage, the author nonetheless manages to eke out a testament to human resilience and deep-rooted optimism. However, it is the strength and resolve of the central female characters that offer most pride in the human virtues on show. My favourite quote from the book follows the mourning of Laila’s brothers, when the character perceives a hierarchy in her mother’s affections, “….Mammy’s heart was like a pallid beach where Laila’s footprints would forever wash away beneath the waves of sorrow that swelled and crashed.Swelled and crashed.” In the final analysis, Laila’s courage was every bit as worthy of her mother’s reverence.

On reflection, I believe one of the most engaging factors for the reader steeped in western culture is the apparent difference in certain values, most notably in respect of women (though notably feminists would argue there is still a way to go), but also, reassuringly, common humane principles that derive from the respective civilizations. The ‘otherness’ is a seductive curiosity, however, it should not be overstated, for as Hosseini demonstrates, our aspirations are remarkably similar.

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Tribute to the late Colin Dexter

12:02 AM 26 MARCH 2017

I read this first Inspector Morse mystery in honour of the author who passed away this week. In fact, I have the set of thirteen Morse novels and I really must be getting on with them. I deliberately read this first one fairly intensively, if only to keep the complex storyline fixed in my head, but the central characters – Chief Inspector Morse and Detective Sergeant Lewis – popularized in the ITV adaption, come together for the first time here and offer the prospect of a burgeoning relationship. Of course, once exposed to the TV characters, as one reads it’s hard not to conjure up a mental picture of John Thaw and Kevin Whately, even if the Chief Inspector is driving a Lancia.

Like Morse, Colin Dexter’s writing style is complex and his plotlines intelligent and sophisticated. A former graduate of Cambridge, it is curious that the author should choose to set his series of novels in Oxford. Yet, the backdrop of dreaming spires and college cloisters surrenders a potential wealth of articulate, affluent characters linked to this seat of learning, alongside the harsher reality of city life in the Thames valley. Following the well-trodden footsteps of Sherlock Holmes, in Morse we are enthralled by the detective’s superior intellect, in spite of the character’s equally obvious flaws. And in DS Lewis, Morse has the perfect foil, whereby blunt common sense and diligent police work enables the more florid, ale-fuelled genius to flourish.

In a sense, the emotional vulnerability displayed by Morse in his pursuit of a ‘love’ interest is surprising, but his ineptitude in the relationship department is nonetheless endearing. In this opening story, Morse and Lewis are beginning to find the measure of each other and formulating a working relationship, which meshes their respective strengths, but the sparks between them also also keeps this partnership interesting, with more to come.

As well as the crime (in this instance murder), the key to the crime novel is often how the ‘solution’ is unpacked and here Dexter has Morse subtly explain his ‘working out’ to Lewis. The conclusion is slightly melodramatic for my taste, but a giant among literary detectives began his rise to popularity with this book.

Twelve books to go. How exciting! And what an exceptional body of work!

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Boys will be boys…

11:10 PM 25 MARCH 2017

It might be regarded as a classic book, but “Lord of the Flies” is not what I would describe as an easy read. Confronting the reader, as William Golding does, with a rather bleak and brutal portrayal of youth unfettered by the boundaries of social norms. Indeed, this novel suggests we may remain a very uncomfortably short step from the savagery supposedly consigned to primitive human history. The fact that the protagonists are children only magnifies the horror of the characters’ amoral behaviour and irreverent attitude to life.

Marooned on a desert island, the only survivors of a plane crash are a group of schoolboys, comprising littluns and bigguns. At the outset, the scenario has the feel of an adventure, but as the harsh realities of survival kick-in, the group becomes fractured and set upon an inevitable trajectory of conflict.

In many ways it is a rather tragic story, with fatal consequences for some. Still, the examination of bullying, the potential folly of unchallenged, charismatic, macho leadership and the value of social rules makes this an obvious choice for GCSE study. Though I have come to it very late, I can understand why this book retains popularity and is regarded as an important contribution to English literature. Still, it offers up a very unflattering impression of man-kind. Like father, like son?

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

Burning through the pages

11:09 AM 18 MARCH 2017

Andrew Taylor has made a career out of historical thrillers and his latest book is a compelling dive into post-republic Britain. Many of us perhaps recall 1666 as the year of the ‘great fire of London’, a catastrophic event in the history of the nation, often taught in classrooms alongside the impact of the plague, for which the fire is frequently regarded as a partial antidote. However, I for one, am short on detail, the impact for the city of such an event, both logistically, but also for individual citizens. In this book, Andrew Taylor draws us onto street level, as the inhabitants of the capital struggle to dampen the flames, which raged for days and threatened to cause irreparable damage. It’s an interesting and dynamic backdrop into which the author deftly inserts a tale of intrigue, murder and power-broking which sustains the returned king, amid turmoil and a nation recovering from the tensions evoked under Oliver Cromwell.

James Marwood and Catherine (‘Cat’) Lovett are the adult children of regicides – those who had been directly instrumental in the execution of the king’s father in Whitehall. Their respective families had flourished under parliamentarian rule and extremist religious views that were tolerated. However, the return of the monarchy was to confer profound changes to the fortunes of their respective fathers and emburdened the children with the associated shame and guilt. The book traces their respective interwoven journeys and struggles to survive, thereby lifting a veil on the often brutal life in London at that time, the machinations of the state, society and the fluctuating fortunes of the aristocracy, political and lower classes.

In some ways there are intriguing and tangible parallels with today. The destruction of a major city creates a flood of refugees and it is the rich and powerful best placed to survive the tumult, with most choices. Still, amid the generalized mayhem and economic disaster, with the attendant winners and losers, Taylor has developed a compelling plot, which made this reader want to know how circumstances pan out for the central characters.

Top of the bestseller list for this genre for weeks, Taylor has clearly tapped into an appetite for fast-moving action and in spite of the historical context the quality of the writing and the strength of the characters gives this book broad appeal. Worth noting there are instances of violence in the book, but handled well by the author, in my view and in keeping with the unsanitized description of a great city convulsed by time and happenstance. Well worth reading.

Rating: 4 out of 5.

An Empathetic Portrait

8:34 PM 28 FEBRUARY 2017

The musings of Alan Bennett, based on his observations of people and his experience of life in general, are almost guaranteed to draw a smile from even the most world-weary. As one reads his diarised account of life after the eccentric Miss Shepherd had moved her clapped-out van into his front garden…..and then stayed for fifteen years, it is hard not to be touched by a mixture of humour and pathos, which is both funny and moving in equal measure. 

So improbable is the bizarre sequence of events that ‘you couldn’t make it up’ and the knowledge that Bennett is recounting ‘real life’ somehow adds to the riveting nature of the book. Though now a ‘major motion picture’ starring Dame Maggie Smith, as I read, I could frequently ‘hear’ Bennett’s distinctive northern, nasally voice, wanting to remain compassionate, but nonplussed by the chaotic and seemingly irrational choices made by his visitor. Yet, it is hard not to have more than a sneaking regard for the enigmatic Miss Shepherd. Though seemingly destined to persistently rail against conforming to social norms, Miss Shepherd is nonetheless like an iceberg, with only a small fraction of herself showing above the community waterline. Indeed, perhaps it was the prospect of hidden depths, which so intrigued the author.

Still, we can also applaud Mr Bennett for his very uncommon response, in the circumstances, which has permitted a tender, yet unsentimental portrait of a  fascinating human being. Since, Miss Shepherd could potentially be any one of us, Bennett also manages to make a powerful case for tolerance and an acceptance of difference. Just as it takes a village to raise a child, there is perhaps an argument here suggesting that same village may also foster a dignified end of life for our elders.

By including an epilogue, the author also provided a thoughtful conclusion, which deftly answered some of the questions arising about Miss Shepherd’s past. This was my first foray into the written work of Alan Bennett, but from this example, it is easy to see why he is regarded by many as a national treasure. I look forward to more dipping into a substantial body of work.

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Sebastian Faulks takes some P.G tips

6:44 PM 19 FEBRUARY 2017

Sub-titled “a homage to P.G. Wodehouse”, as a lifelong fan of the late,great man one can imagine that it must have been both an honour and a distinct challenge for Sebastian Faulks, to be invited by the Wodehouse estate to write a new Jeeves and Wooster novel. No pressure….though given that Faulks has similarly delivered a new James Bond novel (see my review of “Devil May Care”) in the style of Ian Fleming, one cannot doubt the chameleonic qualities of this fine contemporary writer. Still, as a longstanding fan of Wodehouse myself, I also came at this book with a certain degree of trepidation and a wistful hope for more than a pale imitation of a Wodehouse original. I needn’t have worried. Faulks has successfully woven the classic ingredients into a wonderfully comic plot, which sees Bertie and Jeeves revisit a glorious heyday. Indeed, if imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, there can be no finer accolade than to suggest this belated addition to the catalogue of J&W stories sits very comfortably alongside the originals, with deft brushstrokes that so clearly simulate the master. 

Since the TV series, in my imagination, Stephen Fry and Hugh Lawrie inevitably play the starring roles and the dialogue is crafted to fit their honeyed tones seamlessly. However, it is the quintessentially English nature of the farce, threaded through the frailties of the upper classes, which provides such a familiar platform for the many slapstick moments. The affable Bertie Wooster, big of heart, but none too bright, chaperoned by his patient, cerebrally-gifted manservant, who navigates through the choppy waters his master instinctively seems to steer towards. This book is stuffed with laugh-out-loud moments, which draw unashamedly on the antics of the Drones Club and references to familiar friends of old (Stinker Pinker, Boko Fittleworth, Bingo Little, Aunt Agatha, etc). Only the role swap at the core of this new tale breaks new ground with predictably hilarious consequences. If ever there was a book to brighten the cold winter evenings, this is it. Full credit to Mr Faulks for doing P.G. fans proud!

This book definitely is one for my ‘favourites’ shelf and one I expect to return to.  

Rating: 4 out of 5.

It’s a case of judgement…

10:56 PM 28 JANUARY 2017

As a long time admirer of the Grisham back-catalogue,  there is always a tremor of excitement when a new title is added to the list (currently the list of novels numbers twenty nine) and more often than not the author delivers for his army of fans.’The Whistler’ carries all the traditional hallmarks of a Grisham thriller – the victims, the baddies and the agents of the justice system seeking to uphold the rule of law. The intrinsically arcane and yet equally fascinating backdrop of the US legal system has been successfully mined repeatedly by Grisham and  his tales often turn on an obscure element of the law and in this instance that pertaining to ‘whistle-blowers’. Wrap around that nugget a plot involving organized crime, a corrupt judge, the land belonging to a native American tribe, murder, extortion and a range of misdemeanors and this novel makes for a compelling read.

In this offering, Grisham does not dwell much on motivation, though the presence of greed and its corrupting influence looms large. More interesting though is the inadvertently heroic efforts of the law enforcers to see justice prevail, without the inducements anticipated by the ‘whistlers’. More grave, the disloyalty of a judge to the public she exists to serve and the abject abuse of a revered high office.

However, for me, the acid test unfolds in the epilogue. The ‘triumph’ of justice can be fickle and the apportioning of ‘just deserts’ nuanced and sometimes unsatisfying. For example, the full weight of the law being lightened by plea-bargaining, the witness protection programme, the apparent need to reward some people to ‘do the right thing’, while expecting it of others. Still, there was something very satisfying about wealthy criminals being temporarily unable to engage expensive lawyers. At that moment, at least, the playing field seemed level, perhaps in the way we’d like to imagine the law should operate.

Ultimately though, the conclusion was greeted with an indifferent  shrug, not so much a thrilling crescendo, as a damp squib really. But why? 

On reflection, I don’t think the characters were developed enough to be fully plausible, nor to make the reader ‘care’ about their respective outcomes. Yet, on balance, ‘The Whistler’ remains an enjoyable romp, but, rather like fast food, I was quickly left feeling the need for something more substantial. Then again, who am I to judge.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.