H.M. Holten's Blog, page 10

Newest Reviews

Kevin Ansbro, The Fish That Climbed a Tree

Literary Tour de Force of Magical Realism

Henry Drummond is a man that proves that every notion can be turned upside down. How? He is born with a manly endowment that hints at the original Priapus but has a character and an integrity that, in Greek sculpture, would be presented with a surprisingly modest phallus.

Henry is generous to a fault, loveable, and loving. He is also a genius writer in spe.

His parents die horrendous deaths at the hands of two villains that top every villain, I’ve ever read about. They will haunt Henry’s life too.

Over and above that, Henry has (older) friends and an unspeakable roommate. His love interest, Amber, must endure the boyfriend from hell.

This is the scenario Ansbro unfolds in brilliant writing and a fabulous plot arch. There are touches of paradise and hell, insane violence, bungled affairs of all sorts – from murder to petty theft.

Into this mix, Ansbro brings an idea of afterlife that is both enchanting and amusing, Angels that materialise as butterflies, and great personalities of the past (spanning from Elvis to Voltaire). There are nods to James Joyce as well as to Homer’s Ulysses. This is a book that will keep you in suspense and delight you. The literary allusions are strewn in with a deft hand and never get in the way of the tale. A book that makes you laugh and cry and bite your nails. It may not be for the fainthearted, but any adventurous bibliophile will love it from start to finish. 

*

John Dolan, Adventures in Mythopoeia

Myth-building Extravaganza

‘It was neither the best of times, nor the worst of times. It was somewhere in the middle.’ Thus, John Dolan starts his venture into mythopoeia, and what an adventure this is. From the Ancient Greeks, with a sniff at the Celtic pantheon, to the Arthurian legends including the quest for the holy grail, and an extensive visit with the knight of the sad countenance, as well as an unforgettable confrontation with Medea. Towards the end, Dolan throws in a few UFOs for good measure.

The reader is confronted with a three-part novel – without a doubt a nod to Dickens and other old-timers. That doesn’t mean that we stray far from our modern world, on the contrary, the large cast is as modern as it gets. We have a world peopled by misfits, from an ex-footballer to a male escort turned bank robber. There are sheep in several varieties, a hawk, and a talking cat. Add to the pantheon of Dolan’s mythopoeia a nineteen-year-old sufferer from progeria (the old/young man), a soothsayer and her daughter, the publican of the Green Man, Olympians and Titans, a cat lady who ‘discovered the recipe for contentment, and a few extra-terrestrials.

This allegorical read has characters with human flaws who are believable and often endearing. There is hair raising violence, young and old love, adultery, rune translations, and tarot cards. If this sounds chaotic, don’t worry, Dolan has a solid grip on his multiple characters and manages to tie up every sprawling red thread in his audacious plot. It may not be necessary to bring an umbrella but be prepared for criminals, gags, and enchantment, not to mention sheep.

*

Sheila Patel, The Magic Vodka Wardrobe

Surreal Screwball Short Story

The Magic Vodka Wardrobe is well-written – but endlessly repetitive. Vodka shots, dance floor extravaganzas, complete with glitterball. Vomiting, weeds, and fanciful clothing take Sharon (Shaz), Trace, and Kirsty (via Skype) on a wild ride together with their crazy aunt Sheila.

Aunt Fatima of the corner shop, the bearded barkeeper, the homeless and – knicker-less Sheryl, and Tattoo Tony with his rottweiler – Nobhead – admittedly enliven the action, but all in all, I’m not a vodka fan. The Wardrobe doesn’t feature furs, fauns, or a lion: instead, the entrance to the vodka bar is filled with ‘Primani’ shoes, handbags, and seventies’ fashion, including Madonna-inspired brassieres.

Visit The Magic Vodka Wardrobe if you’re in the mood for a light-hearted and slangy read and have nothing better to do. The Magic Vodka Wardrobe will entertain you for an hour or two.

*

Marcee Corn, Always Thaddeus: The Resurrection

Does Retribution Exist? Can Justice Prevail?

The sequel to Always Thaddeus is as compelling as the work it follows.

Who is Jane Doe? Who is Margaret Buchanan and or Beth Morgan? Was Andrew Morgan guilty? Whatever happened to Sandy? Who did Ernesto Chavez marry? Will he get a chance for happiness? Will Sanity prevail? How? Who will survive, and who will be forced to deal with a dual personality?

Coast guard petty officer Craig Hendershott and reporter Jan Smith of the Augusta Herald both search for answers – but will the answers make them happy? Is Thaddeus alive? Does the title hint at his resurrection?

To answer all the questions, one must go deep into the text and ponder the deep oceans of the main characters’ minds. There are losses to deal with, from Jane Does’ loss of memory to Andrew Morgan’s loss of freedom. Will the end give them the closure they dream of? What is the ideal outcome for a tortured soul – when everybody suffers? Always Thaddeus: The Resurrection is a grown-up novel that doesn’t give easy answers. It poses deep questions and leaves it to the reader to find the underlying truths. The easy answers aren’t forthcoming and that is the greatest strength of this unusual romance thriller. Still, this isn’t a book that leaves you feeling doomed. It points to hope as the best part of life.

*

Daniel Adam Garwood, A Faulty Eviction

Social Realism With a Twist?

A faulty eviction isn’t easy to pull through – even if it is within the letter of the law. Daniel Adam Garwood knows that “life swarms with innocent monsters” and sets that thought as the motto for his debut. The first chapter is short and to the point: after covering his first (the second) victim with a powder-blue panda throw, he announces that – all in all – three deaths will happen.

Obviously, you might wonder why. It’s all down to the landlord at the refurbished brewery, Pendrick Court. Meet money-grabbing Kevin Douglas, also the owner of several corner shops, who wants to evict all his tenants. Will he succeed? The answer forms and decides the plot of A Faulty Eviction. The action spans two weeks, the aforementioned three deaths, a heightened media circus, and ten irate residents, including the landlord’s son. Not only that, but DAG also supplies an abundance of quirky details and a few rather disgusting actions.

Elements of farce, black humour, satire, tragicomedy, slapstick, and serious exhibits enliven the conflict. The characters are believable, notably Nigerian-born Anah Agu and her eccentric cat. Around her crowds hypochondriac Edna, dysfunctional couple Megan and Jack, incongruent Susan and Robert, Paul Stokes – plumber and engineer, Sean who uses his flat as storage for his father’s shops, retired Alan who enjoys the odd glass, as well as trendy Jessica. Barring the villain of the piece (Said Kevin Douglas) – the quirky cast is singularly attractive.

Well-crafted and well-written, A Faulty Eviction is a remarkable debut.

*

Stella Gibbons, Cold Comfort Farm

Wicked, Wonderful, and Witty

Flora Poste finds herself poor at the death of her father. She must survive on an income of one hundred pounds a year and it is up to her to decide whether to work or live off her family. Visiting a friend, she writes to several distant cousins in the hope of finding somewhere to live – as a cherished guest. Nothing appeals to her until she receives a letter from the Starkadders at Cold Comfort Farm. She goes to Sussex and finds a vast canvas for her inventiveness.

Here are a few examples: a three-legged cow, a farmhand who cleans the dishes with a stick, Urk with his water voles, Amos who has a penchant for preaching, his wife, Judith, who sees trouble everywhere. Aptly named Elfine is dishevelled but a beauty and a budding poetess. Lustful Seth and land-loving Reuben complete the main characters together with old Ada Doom – who “saw something nasty in the woodshed” when she was a kid.

Stella Gibson created a sensation when Cold Comfort Farm appeared in 1932, and no wonder. In it, Ms Gibson took on a long tradition of gloom and doom novels and turned the rural misery topsy-turvy with her sophisticated wit. Her futuristic ideas about ‘air mail’ and ‘twistable television dials’ are as clever as is her idea of the Anglo-Nicaraguan war of 1946.

One thing is clear: when visiting Cold Comfort Farm, it is important to bring gumboots. This novel was a revelation to me – and completely different from my expectations. There is nothing like being surprised by an entertaining and significant author.

*

Chariss K Walker, Purple Kitty – Blue Cadillac

Dystopian Crime with a Vengeance

Meet Serena McKay former police officer turned PI. Meet a cast of the extremely rich and the equally poor people. Indulge in a vision of the future that will make your hair stand on end. In August City there are four areas. One for the super-rich, one for those who are wealthy, and two for the poor and the destitute. Life is good in the rich areas and dangerous everywhere else.

August City was built on the ruins of another city and the underground is a labyrinth of immense proportions. This scene-setting, which is reminiscent of certain European cities and has a literary association (think Victor Hugo), provides a picture of the dark minds that live in August city. The characters represent abusers and those who are abused. The scale of violence rises throughout the two novels.

Serena must face it all to save herself and those closest to her.

Chariss K Walker dissects the brutality and poverty of a city, close to its downfall. She ponders the variations of gender and the neglect that can origin in denying that humans are diverse. She takes no prisoners in these books – except her readers. Her writing style is concise, but her thinking reminded me of some of Agatha Christie’s darkest novels, ‘And Then There were None’ as well as ‘Endless Night’. Highly recommended if you aren’t faint of heart.

*

Sue-Ellen Welfonder, Tara Scott, Allie Mackay The Marriage Maker

Napoleonic Romance with Comedy Elements

The Marriage Maker is a four-part box set, and the four books are also available as single instalments.

A light-hearted romp that centres on the marriage maker of the title finding suitable husbands for Charity and her three younger sisters. Sir Stirling, the aforementioned marriage maker, wants to marry Charity, who is unwilling to marry. Being the eldest daughter and heiress to her father’s, the Duke of Roxburgh’s, title she fears that her suitor is only interested in the dukedom. Also, she dreams of independence.

What does Charity do? She sets Sir Stirling a task that she believes he can’t accomplish. In only one month he must find suitors for her sisters and ensure that they get married within this time frame. Each sister has her own novella, in which to fall in love, marry, and get deflowered. Each sister is the heroine of her story, and the titles, ‘Worth of a Lady’, ‘The Marriage Wager’, ‘A Lady by Chance, and ‘How to Catch an Heiress’, refer to the young women as they appear.

No doubt this is entertaining, but that is all. My main bugbear is that the four brides go through similar experiences: first unwilling to marry, then intrigued by their fiancés, then sexually aroused, and finally in love. All this within a day or two. OK, there were slight variations. Love at first sight is an element in one or two of the novellas. The first man was youthful and rich. The second was a privateer turning into a businessman, the third a destitute landowner with a private ghost, and the last was (obviously) the matchmaker who arranged every match, to the abhorrence of his beloved.

My problem is that books that make me think are my favourites. Admittedly, there’s a guilty pleasure to such light and fluffy concoctions, but they aren’t exactly nourishing.

*

©HMH, 2021

Tempestuous Tulip

*

Flower of love and of greed and of scorn

Perfect, enduring, a symbol ignored

Crown for a ruler or madness for Dutch

Raised to the heavens and dropped into dust

*

Emblem of paradise, supporting the poor

Spread from the seeds or the bulbs to increase

Wealth and the prospects of royal delights

Vintage or modern or ancient and wise

*

Tempests abounded and spun out their fate

Triumph and Rembrandt grew early and late

Apricot parrots and lily flowered wonders

Medleys and hybrids and singles and groups

Vied for a space on a tulip mad globe

*

*

© HMH, 2021

Parrot Tulips by Lynne Henderson

Take a look at these beautiful and lifelike tulips, Painted by Lynne Henderson. I find it remarkably interesting to read about her technique. It is a pleasure to step aside and let her speak for herself.

***

Another technique I developed came from experiments during the textile module of an art and design course I did at the local college. Wet into wet watercolour is very reminiscent of silk painting, as is the use of gutta resist line work to contain the colour washes and prevent them from spreading outside of the area of application. I found that the tube-lining done with glass painting could give me the gutta resist effect on paper, so off I went and collected many tubes of different colours from my local craft shop. In this painting on paper, you can hopefully see where this raised outlining was applied to the edges of the leaves and petals. Left to dry, I then had fun using very rich contrasts of wet into wet work within the leaves and petals, finishing off with a dramatic sky effect. The subject came from a pot of parrot tulips I bought and photographed which have been used a few times now in other compositions. Another ‘trick’ I used for texture in other paintings in this style was to apply PVA glue to certain areas of flowers, for example, the anthers, which would be raised when dry for painting on top off. Paintings done using these techniques have shine, shimmer, and 3D qualities when you view the original or touch them. Sand added to the PVA glue when wet was another method I used for natural history and landscape paintings. I went on to do many works in this way which I dubbed my ‘texturals’, and they have brought forth quite a few exclamations when they have gone to the picture framers.

Parrot Tulips, mixed media on paper, 8 by 10 inches

***

© HMH, 2021

Beauty and the Beasts

When I look in the mirror, what do I see? A scrawny half-starved girl or a beautiful lady? Inside, I’m still that skinny girl. No matter, with intelligence and a little luck, I can secure my future. It sure helps that my body has curves in all the right places. That is something you can’t buy. Unless you have money. My other advantage is that I speak proper, thanks to the nuns who ran the orphanage.

My last target has MONEY. He isn’t a looker, but that matters less. It’s an advantage that he works and lives far from here. But he’s taken with me. That’s what counts. It was too easy. Let me tell you how it happened.

I had cocktails in my usual club on the beach. My friend for the evening was stingy, but that turned out to my advantage. It made me pay attention. It’s easy to sweep the room while appearing to listen, especially if your fellow is self-centred. Most of them are. Saying yes and no in the right places becomes second nature with a little training. It was time to stir up the situation a little, so I took a sip of my companion’s cocktail leaving a lipstick mark for him.

Looking across his shoulder, I spotted him. At the bar. He was short and slightly overweight. Pale and sunburned, his hair was strawberry blond. But he stared at me. There was no doubt, he was interested. Time to think fast. My companion grabbed my hand and said something that I didn’t catch.
‘Pardon – I didn’t – will you excuse me?’ I rose and squeezed his hand. ‘I’ll be back in a sec. Maybe we could get some fresh air?’

He nodded, knowing exactly what I meant. I hurried to the bar. My strawberry-blond cavalier beamed at me. I made a point of passing him — almost too close. If he’d reached out, he could have touched me. I smiled — seductively. That’s a skill well worth learning. You can’t start on that too early.

Anyway, In the ladies’ toilet, I wrote my mobile number down and folded the paper so that it fitted in my hand. On the way back to my table, it was simple. Just a matter of stumbling and letting Strawberry-blond catch me. He didn’t want to let me go, but I smiled and put my piece of paper into his breast pocket. His smile went from ear to ear. There was something endearing about it, so I let him hold me for a heartbeat.
Later, after losing my stingy companion, I returned to the bar. Strawberry-blond was still there.
‘Hello, stranger. Still here?’
‘You came back.’ He grinned. ‘Can I offer you a drink?’

That evening, we just talked. It was plain sailing. He bought everything I told him. My family, my small flat, my wish to get an English diploma. That was the clinch. He drove me back to my flat, and I allowed him to kiss me. When you want to hook them securely, you must keep them at a distance. Don’t give in too quickly. This is an art.

The next morning, he sat on the terrace in front of his hotel. I passed, slowly, swinging my hips. Did he see me? Of course. He looked up and waved me over.

‘Won’t you sit down?’ He pulled out a chair for me. ‘I’ve been thinking all night. It’s so impressive what you’re trying to do. Taking care of your family, trying to better yourself. Let me enrol you in that course, I’ll pay the fee.’

‘Oh, but you shouldn’t.’ Fumbling in my handbag, it was easy to avoid his eyes. ‘It’s very nice of you to offer, but—’

‘My dear, I insist. Where is the enrolment office?’ He drained his coffee and got up. ‘They must be open now. Let me do this for you.’

Maybe he was wilier than I thought. Nothing for it, it might be a good thing to take an English course. It could help me with foreign punters. That didn’t change the need for getting some cash out of him. It wasn’t difficult to figure out the right approach. Do you know how The Funeral works? It’s easily arranged. You see, next time you meet him, you seem preoccupied. When he asks what the matter is, you tell him. Your mother is dead, and you can’t afford the funeral costs. In his case, it was necessary to rent a funeral. The cost is trifling.

He fell for it, but there was a slight crisis. He attended the funeral. Fortunately, the day was hot. The sun plagued him on the long walk through the graveyard, so he didn’t notice anything. Of course, the ‘family’ always wants their cut. It worked out all right because I made sure that they didn’t know how much he’d coughed up.

A week later he left, already in love with me. He said so — repeatedly. He was jealous too. I know the signs. I tell you, it’s as easy as stealing sweets from a baby.

He promised to come back in a month. If I play my cards well, he’ll set me up in a nice flat. Meanwhile, there were a few interesting tourists at the airport. You always need backup targets. Never forget that. Being prepared is half of the business.

After some thought, I decided against the English course. They paid the money back, and that raised my earnings on Strawberry-Blond. The month is almost up. Who knows how much I can squeeze out of him this time?

© HMH, 2021

Green and pink butterfly

***

A breathless minute, a magical moment

Occurred in a flash of flittering wings

The porcelain colours, the filigree contours

Make daylight and sunshine merge in a blaze.

The seconds, repressed, still drop away pounding

Your heart wants to stop but continues its beat

Slowly, aware that a miracle holds you

 So gently it takes you, you hardly can breathe.

*

Within definite walls, inside ramparts of myths

You stand as if frozen

You gaze, and you thrill

*

A fate tempts your hand

To touch this pure wonder

Although it be sin

*

The wings of this creature can’t bear to be handled

But still causes hurricanes in a far land

A moment you feel at the centre of action

Hanging from destiny’s wheel, fused to time

Then you exhale, or a gentle wind soars

The butterfly flutters away on its course.

*

For a moment bereft you follow the flight

As the green and pink creature ascends in the light

***

© HMH, 2021

Monarch Butterfly and Wildflowers by Lynne Henderson

I’m delighted to welcome Lynne Henderson back with another painting – the second in the current series.

***

The next painterly progression for me was driven by a need to convey plants in the wild with atmospheric backgrounds and for a little more spontaneity and originality than pure botanical painting. Cue my developmental sideline into flower painting.

For this I would use selected plants from hedgerows or my garden, begin pencil drawing one or two to get the habitat arrangement going, then paint the flowers and stems using the same building up of full tones as in botanical painting, adding others into the ‘field’ as it were as I went along. The background came after all the plants had been rendered. I wet section by section of the in-between areas, using the wet into wet watercolour technique, where a flush of blue into white creates a cloudy summer sky, or a darker green into a light green creates both the suggestion of more leaves or plants as well as that all-important depth. Some negative painting (painting around a certain shape, like a stem, with darker colour to make the left alone area pop out into a positive structure) finished off the painting.

It might seem a challenge to paint the background afterwards, but it really is a joy and my preferred way, rather than masking off everything first, which is not usually organic enough a process for me. And being a lover of detail, I relish the tidying up at the end!

***

Watercolour on paper, 7 by 9 inches (a group composition of wildflowers in a meadow visited by a monarch butterfly)

***

© HMH, 2021

Monarch Butterfly and Wildflowers

I’m delighted to welcome Lynne Henderson back with another painting – the second in the current series.

***

The next painterly progression for me was driven by a need to convey plants in the wild with atmospheric backgrounds and for a little more spontaneity and originality than pure botanical painting. Cue my developmental sideline into flower painting.

For this I would use selected plants from hedgerows or my garden, begin pencil drawing one or two to get the habitat arrangement going, then paint the flowers and stems using the same building up of full tones as in botanical painting, adding others into the ‘field’ as it were as I went along. The background came after all the plants had been rendered. I wet section by section of the in-between areas, using the wet into wet watercolour technique, where a flush of blue into white creates a cloudy summer sky, or a darker green into a light green creates both the suggestion of more leaves or plants as well as that all-important depth. Some negative painting (painting around a certain shape, like a stem, with darker colour to make the left alone area pop out into a positive structure) finished off the painting.

It might seem a challenge to paint the background afterwards, but it really is a joy and my preferred way, rather than masking off everything first, which is not usually organic enough a process for me. And being a lover of detail, I relish the tidying up at the end!

***

Watercolour on paper, 7 by 9 inches (a group composition of wildflowers in a meadow visited by a monarch butterfly)

***

© HMH, 2021

Humanity?

St Michael V Satan by Georgio Vasari

Life is an enigma. We love because we can’t help it but the same is a factor in hate. Do we ever make choices? Are we so conditioned that we can’t be responsible for anything? Why must it be like that? Why do people have double standards? Sometimes it is for the ultimate ethical reasons – and will still be seen as evil or diabolical. That goes to show how absurd humanity is. There is much to say for living by instinct.

Man started to go upright. Man developed speech and reason. When they started developing a nascent philosophy, things went from bad to worse. Still, without thought, without reasoning, without thinking where would we be? Would the world be a cleaner and pleasanter place? Or would it be a veritable hell?

We strive for something that is bigger than we are. That’s all. Without that effort, we wouldn’t have got out of the primaeval soup. You can’t have angels without devils. There is and will ever be a duality, a split. Good and evil has no existence without thought. Who can blame a cat for acting like a cat? Exactly.

It is a matter of staying sane and – alive. And it is a day-to-day fight. Might that be a reason why it seems endless? No doubt, many humans experience an accumulation of unpleasant experiences that make it more difficult to stay on course. That situation might seem to repeat ad absurdum. Perhaps that inspired people to invent the idea of karma.

If so, the question is whether it helps or just makes us fatalists. What is the lesson to learn? That isn’t clear to me. There are such subtle shades in the entire complex of experiences. It makes little sense. Perhaps, the only thing that matters is to stay true to one’s inner convictions. That isn’t all, one must also tolerate other people’s opinions, and be generous about them. One must care for those who a weaker or – sicker. It doesn’t matter if it’s physical or mental. Every person must fight his or her personal demons. Who can tell if it is harder to suffer mentally than it is to deal with any physical trauma?

©HMH, 2021

Peony

Inspired by Lynne Henderson’s watercolour Paeonia Officinalis

Rustic delight and Japanese grace

Combine in a blustery symphony of

Colours that abound, from

Snowy white and subtle Rose to

Magenta and purple on top.

*

Found in crystal vessels or lodging in gardens.

Ponderous and slow

But full of mystique and

Apt meditation

*

Duluth, Mme de Verneville, and

Sarah Bernard

Add fragrance to

Elegance

As feathery leaves waft in

The breeze.

From flower and botanical image collection at Imageria.com

***

©HMH 2021

Peony by Lynne Henderson

***

I’m pleased to start another series of paintings by a fellow author. I admire Lynne Henderson as an author (writing as Lynne Fisher) and was delighted to find out that she also is a consummate painter. Without further ado, I’ll let Lynne introduce her work.

***

Paeonia Officinalis, watercolour on paper, 13 by 17’’

(A botanical illustration of a peony from my garden, painted from life.)

When I came back to art, after leaving it behind in childhood, it was on a week’s botanical illustration course in the 90s with a lovely tutor. I can still remember his name — Michael Hickey. After developing the watercolour methods and illustrative style over many years, this painting is probably one of my best – a painting of a peony shrub on stretched ‘hot pressed’ (very smooth) paper, which was growing in my garden. I used reference photographs and sections of the plant to develop a composition beginning with drawing in the heads and working the stems in from there. The initial pencil drawing has to be intensely precise and light in touch. Then the watercolour layers are slowly built up from light to dark tones, developing the shading, three-dimensional structure, and shadow overlaps after the initial colour washes are laid down. It is a highly time-consuming, controlled method of painting with little spontaneity involved. The only spontaneity can come in the composition, and here it came for me when I added the spent seed head and dropped petals onto the lower leaves – my favourite part!

***

Paeonia Officinalis by Lynne Henderson
Watercolour on paper

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© HMH, 2021