Martin Edwards's Blog, page 178
June 8, 2015
The Return of Edmund Crispin and Alexander Wilson
The republication of classic crime novels continues apace with two rather different, attractively produced new series. The first comes from Harper Collins, who are starting to reissue the books of Edmund Crispin in paperback. Three titles have recently appeared: Love Lies Bleeding, The Moving Toyshop, and Holy Disorders. Each book features Crispin's amateur sleuth Gervase Fen, and my understanding is that the rest of Crispin's books are likely to appear in similar editions in due course.
Crispin was a lively and intelligent writer who enjoyed the game-playing aspect of detective fiction, even though he came along at the end of the Golden Age (which is why he is mentioned only in passing in The Golden Age of Murder; alas, had I tried to cover writers like Crispin, Christianna Brand and Dorothy Bowers in detail, the book would have been even weightier.)
Crispin was influenced by the likes of fellow Oxford man, Michael Innes, and John Dickson Carr. His work has always retained an appeal to readers; I recall listening to a very enthusiastic discussion of his work by Susan Moody a while back, which revived my interest in his work. So his books have never been too hard to find; all the same, it's good to see these new editions. Here's my take on
Alexander Wilson, in contrast, really is a forgotten writer. But perhaps not for much longer. Allison & Busby have set about reprinting his thrillers, with cover artwork in a style eerily reminiscent of the British Library Crime Classics series (though where are the wonderful introductions? Only joking!) Wilson was a spy as well as a writer, and there's a very interesting Wikipedia page about him. The first three titles to appear are: Mystery of Tunnel 51, The Devil's Cocktail, and Wallace of the Secret Service.
Crispin was a lively and intelligent writer who enjoyed the game-playing aspect of detective fiction, even though he came along at the end of the Golden Age (which is why he is mentioned only in passing in The Golden Age of Murder; alas, had I tried to cover writers like Crispin, Christianna Brand and Dorothy Bowers in detail, the book would have been even weightier.)
Crispin was influenced by the likes of fellow Oxford man, Michael Innes, and John Dickson Carr. His work has always retained an appeal to readers; I recall listening to a very enthusiastic discussion of his work by Susan Moody a while back, which revived my interest in his work. So his books have never been too hard to find; all the same, it's good to see these new editions. Here's my take on
Alexander Wilson, in contrast, really is a forgotten writer. But perhaps not for much longer. Allison & Busby have set about reprinting his thrillers, with cover artwork in a style eerily reminiscent of the British Library Crime Classics series (though where are the wonderful introductions? Only joking!) Wilson was a spy as well as a writer, and there's a very interesting Wikipedia page about him. The first three titles to appear are: Mystery of Tunnel 51, The Devil's Cocktail, and Wallace of the Secret Service.
June 5, 2015
Forgotten Book - The Tremor of Forgery
I first picked up a copy of today's Forgotten Book when I was a student, going through a Patricia Highsmith phase. Unfortunately, I only managed about fifty pages of The Tremor of Forgery before giving up. Later, I acquired a Penguin paperback of the same title, but only now have I got round to reading it. This time, I made my way to the end of the story, and I'm glad I persevered with it.
Opinions are divided on Patricia Highsmith and her books; but I do find that there is something hypnotic about her writing. Graham Greene and Julian Symons, no mean judges, thought that The Tremor of Forgery was perhaps her best book, but others will struggle with it, as I did first time round. For me, it doesn't compare to Strangers on a Train or The Talented Mr Ripley. I'm not even sure it's right to describe it as a crime novel; that isn't a label that the author herself applied to it.
It is, strange to say, a book in which not very much happens. An American writer called Howard Ingham is visiting Tunis - the idea is that he will work on a film with an acquaintance, who has yet to turn up. The Tunisian setting is unusual, and as with so many Highsmith books, the wonderfully evoked exotic location contributes greatly to the pleasure of the story, as well as somehow helping to make plausible behaviour that might otherwise seem highly unlikely.
Ingham becomes anxious, as well as lonely bored, when he doesn't hear from his acquaintance, or from Ina, the woman he plans - in a vague sort of way - to marry. He befriends an American right-wing broadcaster (there's quite a lot about politics in the book, which provides a mildly interesting historical context) and a gay Dane. Ingham rebuffs the Dane's advances, yet remains strangely drawn to him.There's a strong gay sub-text to several of the scenes.
An incident occurs which may or may not amount to murder. Ingham's conscience is sorely troubled, but (spoiler alert!) we never know for sure what happened to the victim. And that's about as action-packed as the story gets. It's an odd, low-key book, best read for the sinuous prose rather than the almost non-existent plot. On the back of my Penguin, a reviewer comments that he'd rather read Highsmith's worst book than anyone else's best. The cynic in me wondered if the preceding sentence suggested this was indeed her worst book! I don't think it is, but it definitely won't be everyone's cup of tea. Agatha Christie she wasn't, but she was an extremely interesting and intelligent writer..
Opinions are divided on Patricia Highsmith and her books; but I do find that there is something hypnotic about her writing. Graham Greene and Julian Symons, no mean judges, thought that The Tremor of Forgery was perhaps her best book, but others will struggle with it, as I did first time round. For me, it doesn't compare to Strangers on a Train or The Talented Mr Ripley. I'm not even sure it's right to describe it as a crime novel; that isn't a label that the author herself applied to it.
It is, strange to say, a book in which not very much happens. An American writer called Howard Ingham is visiting Tunis - the idea is that he will work on a film with an acquaintance, who has yet to turn up. The Tunisian setting is unusual, and as with so many Highsmith books, the wonderfully evoked exotic location contributes greatly to the pleasure of the story, as well as somehow helping to make plausible behaviour that might otherwise seem highly unlikely.
Ingham becomes anxious, as well as lonely bored, when he doesn't hear from his acquaintance, or from Ina, the woman he plans - in a vague sort of way - to marry. He befriends an American right-wing broadcaster (there's quite a lot about politics in the book, which provides a mildly interesting historical context) and a gay Dane. Ingham rebuffs the Dane's advances, yet remains strangely drawn to him.There's a strong gay sub-text to several of the scenes.
An incident occurs which may or may not amount to murder. Ingham's conscience is sorely troubled, but (spoiler alert!) we never know for sure what happened to the victim. And that's about as action-packed as the story gets. It's an odd, low-key book, best read for the sinuous prose rather than the almost non-existent plot. On the back of my Penguin, a reviewer comments that he'd rather read Highsmith's worst book than anyone else's best. The cynic in me wondered if the preceding sentence suggested this was indeed her worst book! I don't think it is, but it definitely won't be everyone's cup of tea. Agatha Christie she wasn't, but she was an extremely interesting and intelligent writer..
June 3, 2015
Snowblind - Ragnar Jonasson's guest post
Ragnar Jonasson is a talented Icelandic crime writer, one of whose short stories I had the pleasure of including in a recent CWA anthology. His recent novel Snowblind has been published by Orenda Books to much acclaim. Ragnar's English is,I have to say, immeasurably better,than my Icelandic, but in fact his book has been translated by another excellent novelist based in Iceland, British-born Quentin Bates (who, as it happens, has just contributed a terrific essay to a non-fiction CWA book, Truly Criminal.) I invited Ragnar to contribute a guest post telling the story of how he came to write his story:
"I spent my childhood summers in the wonderful, small, northern-most town of Siglufjörður in Iceland, where the days are long and bright in summer (but equally short and dark in winter). When I started writing crime fiction, I felt compelled to write a book set in this place. The village, nestled by the fjord, is closed off on every side by high mountains and the only way to get there is by tunnel or by sea. I always felt it was a very fitting setting for a crime novel, a sort-of locked room in the shape of a small town. It’s not unusual for avalanches and heavy snowfall to close off the roads and, indeed, any access, into town in winter (which, of course, happens in the book as well).
I also had more personal reasons for writing about Siglufjörður. My father grew up there, during the era when the town was the bustling centre of herring fishing in Iceland, where people worked day and night to bring the fish in from the sea. My grandparents lived there for most of their lives, and my grandfather wrote a series of books about the history of Siglufjörður.I have been a fan of Golden Age crime fiction for years; I started by reading, and later translating, Agatha Christie, and also enjoying books by a variety of other authors of that era, such as Queen, Van Dine and Marsh. The factors that drew me to Christie – and the Golden Age in particular – are, to a large extent, her plotting and use of setting, and I wanted to try to create a story that could in some way be a juxtaposition of the Golden Age and the much newer Nordic Noir. That, too, is a genre that has influenced me, and I have many favorite authors, including Stieg Larsson and Jo Nesbo. Another influence is the amazing P.D. James, whose characterization is second to none. I really admire the way she created memorable characters with complex backgrounds, all of whom stay with the reader long after the story is finished. In Snowblind, I set out to create a small gallery of suspects, all of whom have back stories that are revealed – little by little. We see the story evolve in part through their eyes, as well as through the eyes of the lead detective, Ari Thor.In addition to the above, a key factor behind my decision to write Snowblind was also – of course – the fact that I felt I had a story to tell; the story of a group of people living in a remote place, the story of a young man adapting (or not adapting!) to a new and fairly hostile environment, and little plot twist that I hope I’ll manage to conceal until the very last pages."
I particularly like Ragnar's point about combining GA type writing and Nordic Noir!.
"I spent my childhood summers in the wonderful, small, northern-most town of Siglufjörður in Iceland, where the days are long and bright in summer (but equally short and dark in winter). When I started writing crime fiction, I felt compelled to write a book set in this place. The village, nestled by the fjord, is closed off on every side by high mountains and the only way to get there is by tunnel or by sea. I always felt it was a very fitting setting for a crime novel, a sort-of locked room in the shape of a small town. It’s not unusual for avalanches and heavy snowfall to close off the roads and, indeed, any access, into town in winter (which, of course, happens in the book as well).
I also had more personal reasons for writing about Siglufjörður. My father grew up there, during the era when the town was the bustling centre of herring fishing in Iceland, where people worked day and night to bring the fish in from the sea. My grandparents lived there for most of their lives, and my grandfather wrote a series of books about the history of Siglufjörður.I have been a fan of Golden Age crime fiction for years; I started by reading, and later translating, Agatha Christie, and also enjoying books by a variety of other authors of that era, such as Queen, Van Dine and Marsh. The factors that drew me to Christie – and the Golden Age in particular – are, to a large extent, her plotting and use of setting, and I wanted to try to create a story that could in some way be a juxtaposition of the Golden Age and the much newer Nordic Noir. That, too, is a genre that has influenced me, and I have many favorite authors, including Stieg Larsson and Jo Nesbo. Another influence is the amazing P.D. James, whose characterization is second to none. I really admire the way she created memorable characters with complex backgrounds, all of whom stay with the reader long after the story is finished. In Snowblind, I set out to create a small gallery of suspects, all of whom have back stories that are revealed – little by little. We see the story evolve in part through their eyes, as well as through the eyes of the lead detective, Ari Thor.In addition to the above, a key factor behind my decision to write Snowblind was also – of course – the fact that I felt I had a story to tell; the story of a group of people living in a remote place, the story of a young man adapting (or not adapting!) to a new and fairly hostile environment, and little plot twist that I hope I’ll manage to conceal until the very last pages."
I particularly like Ragnar's point about combining GA type writing and Nordic Noir!.
June 1, 2015
All the Fun of the Book Fairs
One of the sub-plots, so to speak, of The Golden Age of Murder concerns the stories that are evident, or implicit, in some of the inscriptions by authors in their Golden Age whodunits. This is a subject that has intrigued me for a number of years, and in the book,I've discussed inscriptions by Agatha Christie, Henry Wade, and others that I find appealing. But of course, it is rather hard to track down such books.
I succumbed to temptation, therefore, when down in London on Friday..For the first time,two major book fairs, one run by the PBFA, the other a major international event, were run in tandem, with a shuttle bus linking the two events. I met up with a couple of friends, including the doyen of Golden Age commentators, Barry Pike, and set about haunting the bookstalls.
There were many fascinating books on display. Some of them would have been totally irresistible had they been affordable. But I did pick up a number of titles. Most of these come from the collection of the late Bob Adey, who assembled many treasures over the course of about fifty years. I've never seen such a remarkable collection, and I'm glad that I've been able to acquire just a few of them. Among those that were out of reach,by the way, were two editions of the famously rare The Curious Mr Tarrant, by C. Daly King. One of them had an ownership signature of Ellery Queen - wow...
My haul was more modest, but I was very pleased with it nonetheless, and I did find some very interesting inscriptions. One example is to be found in a copy of Robert Player's first book, The Ingenious Mr Stone, and another in John Dickson Carr's Fire, Burn! - Carr often wrote lengthy inscriptions, and this is a good one, though not easy to read! The Evelyn Elder novel in the picture above is not inscribed, but it was such a lovely copy that I couldn't resist it, knowing that I'm never likely to see another.
I'll be talking more about the inscribed books on another occasion, but suffice to say that it was a thoroughly satisfying pair of events. And it was rounded off by most enjoyable dinner with Barry Pike and a notable collector, my friend and fellow employment lawyer Nigel Moss. Barry has, by the way, already written his talk on Allingham and Sayers for the Bodies from the Library conference on 20 June, and I'm sure fans of those two writers would love to hear it. Book now while a few tickets remain available - the event is expected to sell out.
May 29, 2015
Forgotten Book - Nightmare Cottage
I'd never come across G.M.Wilson, let alone her novel Nightmare Cottage, before I read an extremely positive review of the story on John Norris' splendid blog. John is an excellent judge - he introduced me to another long-neglected author, Claude Houghton, amongst others - and I determined to track down the novel. I've finally managed to find and read a copy, and it's my Forgotten Book for today.
John gives a fine account of the story, and I won't attempt to compete with it,.Rather, I'll start by reflecting on the fact that the book's lack of renown probably has a great deal to do with the fact that it was originally published in the UK, in 1963, by Robert Hale, a company closely associated with the public library market. There tends to be a stereotype that Hale books are inferior, but anyone who makes that assumption is likely to miss out on some very good books Pamela Barrington, to whom I was introduced by Kacper, via a comment on this blog, is among the Hale authors who wrote some very enjoyable work.
Gertrude Mary Wilson was, so I learn from Allen J. Hubin's brilliant and indispensable bibliography of the genre, born in 1899, and her career as a crime novelist began in the Fifties, continuing into the Seventies. Throughout she was published by Hale, and her regular detective was Inspector Lowick, who features here in tandem with Miss Purdy, an appealing amateur sleuth. John, incidentally, mentions in a comment on his blog post that he in turn was tipped off about Wilson by a review from the late and much missed Bill Deeck on the hugely informative Mystery*File blog.
I enjoyed the book, and found the story to be constructed with skill. That said, I wasn't quite as enthusiastic as John, and it's not entirely easy to explain why I wasn't as gripped as I should have been as the plot complications unfolded. I suppose that for me the mystery lacked the intensity that I like, and which I find very often, for instance, in the allegedly genteel and cosy world of Christie and Sayers. But then, they were two superstars, and G.M. Wilson was undoubtedly a capable story-teller who doesn't deserve to be forgotten. I'm glad that John, and Bill, highlighted her work. .
John gives a fine account of the story, and I won't attempt to compete with it,.Rather, I'll start by reflecting on the fact that the book's lack of renown probably has a great deal to do with the fact that it was originally published in the UK, in 1963, by Robert Hale, a company closely associated with the public library market. There tends to be a stereotype that Hale books are inferior, but anyone who makes that assumption is likely to miss out on some very good books Pamela Barrington, to whom I was introduced by Kacper, via a comment on this blog, is among the Hale authors who wrote some very enjoyable work.
Gertrude Mary Wilson was, so I learn from Allen J. Hubin's brilliant and indispensable bibliography of the genre, born in 1899, and her career as a crime novelist began in the Fifties, continuing into the Seventies. Throughout she was published by Hale, and her regular detective was Inspector Lowick, who features here in tandem with Miss Purdy, an appealing amateur sleuth. John, incidentally, mentions in a comment on his blog post that he in turn was tipped off about Wilson by a review from the late and much missed Bill Deeck on the hugely informative Mystery*File blog.
I enjoyed the book, and found the story to be constructed with skill. That said, I wasn't quite as enthusiastic as John, and it's not entirely easy to explain why I wasn't as gripped as I should have been as the plot complications unfolded. I suppose that for me the mystery lacked the intensity that I like, and which I find very often, for instance, in the allegedly genteel and cosy world of Christie and Sayers. But then, they were two superstars, and G.M. Wilson was undoubtedly a capable story-teller who doesn't deserve to be forgotten. I'm glad that John, and Bill, highlighted her work. .
May 27, 2015
Impact - movie review
I'm a fan of film noir, and some time ago, I treated myself to a box set of vintage films in that vein. But I have only got round to watching them now, and I decided to kick off my viewing with Impact, from 1949, a little-known movie with a screneplay co-written by Jay Dratler, who had previously worked on the script for that much more celebrated film, the excellent Laura.
Brian Donlevy plays Walter Williams, who is introduced to us as a dynamic young businessman,able to twist a board of grumpy directors around his little finger. But when he goes home to his wife Irene (Helen Williams) a different side to his character appears. He is a "softy", quite besotted with her. This being a film noir, however, you can bet that Irene, for all her protestations, is not equally crazy about him.
The early scenes are lacklustre in the extreme, but things liven up once Irene persuades doting Walter to give a lift to a young "cousin" who is, in fact, her lover,.Jim. The plan is for Jim to drive Walter to a lonely spot on the edge of a cliff, kill him, and get away with murder. But Jim is not very bright, and things do not work out as he and Irene intended.
This is a decent piece of entertainment, and Walter finds himself trapped in a situation which just about validates the description of Impact as a film noir. Charles Coburn steals several scenes as a likeable cop. But the script is not as sharp as it could have been, and Walter's blind spot about Irene is rather hard to take. Worth watching, but a long way short of Laura . Then again, most films are.
Brian Donlevy plays Walter Williams, who is introduced to us as a dynamic young businessman,able to twist a board of grumpy directors around his little finger. But when he goes home to his wife Irene (Helen Williams) a different side to his character appears. He is a "softy", quite besotted with her. This being a film noir, however, you can bet that Irene, for all her protestations, is not equally crazy about him.
The early scenes are lacklustre in the extreme, but things liven up once Irene persuades doting Walter to give a lift to a young "cousin" who is, in fact, her lover,.Jim. The plan is for Jim to drive Walter to a lonely spot on the edge of a cliff, kill him, and get away with murder. But Jim is not very bright, and things do not work out as he and Irene intended.
This is a decent piece of entertainment, and Walter finds himself trapped in a situation which just about validates the description of Impact as a film noir. Charles Coburn steals several scenes as a likeable cop. But the script is not as sharp as it could have been, and Walter's blind spot about Irene is rather hard to take. Worth watching, but a long way short of Laura . Then again, most films are.
May 25, 2015
CADS 70
The arrival of a new issue of CAD is always a cause for celebration, and I have just devoured issue 70 of Geoff Bradley's splendid and long-running magazine for crime fiction lovers. Once again, the contents range far and wide. If you are a fan of the genre and you don't know CADS, do check it out. I'm confident that you will be impressed.
Several long-standing contributors are again featured. They include Barry Pike, continuing his series about the Mr Fortune series of H.C.Bailey. The fact that I've developed an increasing admiration for Bailey is largely due to Barry's advocacy; I still find Bailey's style irksome, but I've been persuaded that at his best, he was a very powerful and unusual writer. There are no fewer than three short pieces by the indefatigible Philip Scowcroft, one of them dealing with Val Gielgud, whose detective fiction is discussed surprisingly seldom. Tony Medawar contributes another "On This Day" snippet, and Mike Ripley writes about Peter Cheney, while there is a poignant final contribution from the late Bob Adey.
Geoff talks about Bob in his editorial notes, and there is also a wonderful piece by Scott Herbertson about someone else who, in a very different way, is also a huge loss to the crime fiction community, P.D. James. I very much enjoyed John Cooper's essay about Henry Wade's Inspector Poole, while Curt Evans writes about Ianthe Jerrold, two of whose detective novels are happily available again after a long gap.
I haven't written as much for CADS in recent years as I've wished, because of the demands of The Golden Age of Murder (which to my amazement has just been reviewed in, of all places, The Wall Street Journal) and other projects, but this time I've contributed an essay which talks about the influence that CADS has had on my book. As anyone who has read the book, and in particular the end notes, will see, that influence has been quite considerable and has spanned many years. Had it not been for what I have learned from CADS, I would still have written the book, but it wouldn't have had as much information in it. I'm one of many writers and crime fans who has cause to thank Geoff for his decades of hard work as editor.
Several long-standing contributors are again featured. They include Barry Pike, continuing his series about the Mr Fortune series of H.C.Bailey. The fact that I've developed an increasing admiration for Bailey is largely due to Barry's advocacy; I still find Bailey's style irksome, but I've been persuaded that at his best, he was a very powerful and unusual writer. There are no fewer than three short pieces by the indefatigible Philip Scowcroft, one of them dealing with Val Gielgud, whose detective fiction is discussed surprisingly seldom. Tony Medawar contributes another "On This Day" snippet, and Mike Ripley writes about Peter Cheney, while there is a poignant final contribution from the late Bob Adey.
Geoff talks about Bob in his editorial notes, and there is also a wonderful piece by Scott Herbertson about someone else who, in a very different way, is also a huge loss to the crime fiction community, P.D. James. I very much enjoyed John Cooper's essay about Henry Wade's Inspector Poole, while Curt Evans writes about Ianthe Jerrold, two of whose detective novels are happily available again after a long gap.
I haven't written as much for CADS in recent years as I've wished, because of the demands of The Golden Age of Murder (which to my amazement has just been reviewed in, of all places, The Wall Street Journal) and other projects, but this time I've contributed an essay which talks about the influence that CADS has had on my book. As anyone who has read the book, and in particular the end notes, will see, that influence has been quite considerable and has spanned many years. Had it not been for what I have learned from CADS, I would still have written the book, but it wouldn't have had as much information in it. I'm one of many writers and crime fans who has cause to thank Geoff for his decades of hard work as editor.
May 24, 2015
Azma Dar - guest blog about The Secret Arts
Azma Dar is a playwright who has turned to crime fiction with a book called The Secret Arts, published by Dean Street Press, whose eclectic list includes numerous classic crime reprints. I've not yet read her novel, but I'm always pleased to learn of newcomers to the crime writing scene, and here's a guest blog post from her which explains the background:
"Although crime is my favourite genre, I’d always been a bit scared to try my hand at it myself, worried that I wasn’t clever enough to write an ingenious plot. My plays are mostly set in London and explore contemporary themes and issues, serious subjects looked at with, I hope, a bit of humour. I’d wanted to write something about black magic, superstitions and “religious” old men who sold charms and cures for some time. I’d heard of these beliefs whilst growing up.
Unfortunate events were often attributed to evil eyes and curses, and I was fascinated and angered by how easily these theories, rooted in tradition and culture, were accepted by otherwise intelligent and rational minds. Then, on a trip to Pakistan, I heard even more outlandish but supposedly true anecdotes, involving protective chillis, mystical glasses of water, wicked in-laws, jinns, spirits and the odd boiled egg. The idea for a sinister, murderous novel began to take shape.
During that trip we visited the small town of Murree, a pretty, old fashioned place in the hills, full of forests and precarious winding roads. Most strikingly, it was enveloped in a creeping mist. It would seem like a clear day, then suddenly within minutes you could see no further than a couple of metres. It was all that lovely fog which inspired me to set the novel in Murree. It felt like a really atmospheric backdrop for a spooky story.
The novel became The Secret Arts, the story of Saika, a young woman who marries an older man, a respectable Colonel, but her bliss is short lived when she starts hearing rumours about the suspicious death of his first wife. Meanwhile the rest of the family members are entangled in lies and secrets, meddling in black magic and placing curses on each other. When one of her cousins is murdered, and her husband starts behaving strangely, Saika becomes determined to unravel the truth...."
"Although crime is my favourite genre, I’d always been a bit scared to try my hand at it myself, worried that I wasn’t clever enough to write an ingenious plot. My plays are mostly set in London and explore contemporary themes and issues, serious subjects looked at with, I hope, a bit of humour. I’d wanted to write something about black magic, superstitions and “religious” old men who sold charms and cures for some time. I’d heard of these beliefs whilst growing up.
Unfortunate events were often attributed to evil eyes and curses, and I was fascinated and angered by how easily these theories, rooted in tradition and culture, were accepted by otherwise intelligent and rational minds. Then, on a trip to Pakistan, I heard even more outlandish but supposedly true anecdotes, involving protective chillis, mystical glasses of water, wicked in-laws, jinns, spirits and the odd boiled egg. The idea for a sinister, murderous novel began to take shape.
During that trip we visited the small town of Murree, a pretty, old fashioned place in the hills, full of forests and precarious winding roads. Most strikingly, it was enveloped in a creeping mist. It would seem like a clear day, then suddenly within minutes you could see no further than a couple of metres. It was all that lovely fog which inspired me to set the novel in Murree. It felt like a really atmospheric backdrop for a spooky story.
The novel became The Secret Arts, the story of Saika, a young woman who marries an older man, a respectable Colonel, but her bliss is short lived when she starts hearing rumours about the suspicious death of his first wife. Meanwhile the rest of the family members are entangled in lies and secrets, meddling in black magic and placing curses on each other. When one of her cousins is murdered, and her husband starts behaving strangely, Saika becomes determined to unravel the truth...."
May 22, 2015
Forgotten Book - The Judas Window
Why has it taken me so long to get round to reading Carter Dickson's The Judas Window? It is regarded highly by a number of good judges who are fans of Dickson - better known as John Dickson Carr. I suppose my main justification for describing it as a Forgotten Book is that I've forgotten, or at least neglected, to read it until now.
I've long admired Carr's work, and his mastery of the intricacies of the "impossible crime". In particular, I am a fan of the books featuring Dr Gideon Fell, the Chestertonian lexicographer who strs in classics such as The Hollow Man. A good many people prefer Sir Henry Merrivale, alias "H.M.", who is the rumbustious hero of the books written under the Carter Dickson alias. This is, in part, because of their humour - one of the neat features of the stories is that sometimes a slapstick scene will conceal an important clue to the mystery.
Merrivale features in a truly brilliant short story, "The House in Goblin Wood", but I've not been quite as keen on some of the Merrivale novels I've read. But The Judas Window is a high calibre mystery, no question of that. It's also rather different from "typical" Carr stories, in that it centres around a murder trial at the Old Bailey- and Merrivale is counsel for the defence.
His client is Jimmy Answell, a young man who seems the only possible suspect in a locked room murder case. We know Jimmy is innocent, but how on earth can this be established, in the face of apparently overwhelming evidence that he killed his prospective father-in-law? As the trial proceeds, we come across testimony from various people in the dead man's circle - but how can any of them have committed the crime? And if one of them did do the dastardly deed, for what reason?
The technicalities of the crime are very cleverly handled. I was much less convinced by the culprit's motivation, but the fact is that Carr was not as preoccupied with criminal psychology as some of his colleagues in the Detection Club. Yet he could weave a tantalising mystery, and I agree with those who rate this book highly. If you are a locked room fan, I recommend you get round to reading it more quickly than I did..
I've long admired Carr's work, and his mastery of the intricacies of the "impossible crime". In particular, I am a fan of the books featuring Dr Gideon Fell, the Chestertonian lexicographer who strs in classics such as The Hollow Man. A good many people prefer Sir Henry Merrivale, alias "H.M.", who is the rumbustious hero of the books written under the Carter Dickson alias. This is, in part, because of their humour - one of the neat features of the stories is that sometimes a slapstick scene will conceal an important clue to the mystery.
Merrivale features in a truly brilliant short story, "The House in Goblin Wood", but I've not been quite as keen on some of the Merrivale novels I've read. But The Judas Window is a high calibre mystery, no question of that. It's also rather different from "typical" Carr stories, in that it centres around a murder trial at the Old Bailey- and Merrivale is counsel for the defence.
His client is Jimmy Answell, a young man who seems the only possible suspect in a locked room murder case. We know Jimmy is innocent, but how on earth can this be established, in the face of apparently overwhelming evidence that he killed his prospective father-in-law? As the trial proceeds, we come across testimony from various people in the dead man's circle - but how can any of them have committed the crime? And if one of them did do the dastardly deed, for what reason?
The technicalities of the crime are very cleverly handled. I was much less convinced by the culprit's motivation, but the fact is that Carr was not as preoccupied with criminal psychology as some of his colleagues in the Detection Club. Yet he could weave a tantalising mystery, and I agree with those who rate this book highly. If you are a locked room fan, I recommend you get round to reading it more quickly than I did..
May 20, 2015
Reaction to The Golden Age of Murder
When you publish a book, it's usually far from easy to predict how it will be received. You've done your best with it, your agent and editor are happy with it (bad news if they aren't!), but you can never quite be sure how others will react. Authors are often said not to be the best judges of their own work. My most commercially successful novel is The Coffin Trail, and in sales terms, my least commercially successful, is Dancing for the Hangman. Yet my own feeling is that the latter book is possibly, in literary terms, my best. Who knows? All these judgments are subjective, like all reviews.
So I was unsure about how people would respond to The Golden Age of Murder. It's 25 years (even I find this hard to believe) since I pitched the idea of an Oxford Companion about the crime genre to the late Michael Cox, then a senior editor at Oxford University Press, and later a successful novelist, so people can see how long it's taken me to reach this point. When you've worked long and hard on a project, you hope the results will justify the effort. But there are no guarantees; life isn't like that.
I realised over time that I wanted to write a book that was ambitious, wide-ranging, very personal, and... different. Rash of me, really. I don't even know for sure if it is, as some have said, a reference book. A quarter of a century ago, I did want to write a reference book, but my priorities have evolved as I've developed as a novelist. Above all, I wanted to tell a story, and the more I researched it, the more I felt that the story of the early years of the Detection Club deserved to be told. And it was important to me to tell the story with a degree of empathy with the writers, and also with humour .
To say that I've been thrilled by readers' reaction to this book to date is true, but it hardly conveys the excitement I feel about the number of people who have "got" what I was trying to do. It's a long book, with a tight structure that is not very obvious, although each chapter does have a distinct theme. So I thought that the readers most likely to appreciate it might be those who read it more than once, and then found they enjoyed going back to it. And since I was aiming to interest Golden Age fans but also to intrigue and entertain those who had little or no real interest in GA books, I was expecting quite a lot of scepticism. That may still come, of course. But the reviews so far have been fantastic, beyond my wildest dreams..I've been lucky throughout my career to have been reviewed in national newspapers as well as specialist magazines and more recently blogs, but I've never had so many great reviews in such a short space of time
One or two extremely interesting projects have already been mooted as a result of the book's appearance, and if anything comes of them, that will certainly be a bonus. In my own mind, I am primarily a novelist and short story writer, rather than a writer of non-fiction, but I care about, and take care over, all my books, and I certainly care very much about the story told in The Golden Age of Murder. I'm so pleased that plenty of other people seem to care too.
.
So I was unsure about how people would respond to The Golden Age of Murder. It's 25 years (even I find this hard to believe) since I pitched the idea of an Oxford Companion about the crime genre to the late Michael Cox, then a senior editor at Oxford University Press, and later a successful novelist, so people can see how long it's taken me to reach this point. When you've worked long and hard on a project, you hope the results will justify the effort. But there are no guarantees; life isn't like that.
I realised over time that I wanted to write a book that was ambitious, wide-ranging, very personal, and... different. Rash of me, really. I don't even know for sure if it is, as some have said, a reference book. A quarter of a century ago, I did want to write a reference book, but my priorities have evolved as I've developed as a novelist. Above all, I wanted to tell a story, and the more I researched it, the more I felt that the story of the early years of the Detection Club deserved to be told. And it was important to me to tell the story with a degree of empathy with the writers, and also with humour .
To say that I've been thrilled by readers' reaction to this book to date is true, but it hardly conveys the excitement I feel about the number of people who have "got" what I was trying to do. It's a long book, with a tight structure that is not very obvious, although each chapter does have a distinct theme. So I thought that the readers most likely to appreciate it might be those who read it more than once, and then found they enjoyed going back to it. And since I was aiming to interest Golden Age fans but also to intrigue and entertain those who had little or no real interest in GA books, I was expecting quite a lot of scepticism. That may still come, of course. But the reviews so far have been fantastic, beyond my wildest dreams..I've been lucky throughout my career to have been reviewed in national newspapers as well as specialist magazines and more recently blogs, but I've never had so many great reviews in such a short space of time
One or two extremely interesting projects have already been mooted as a result of the book's appearance, and if anything comes of them, that will certainly be a bonus. In my own mind, I am primarily a novelist and short story writer, rather than a writer of non-fiction, but I care about, and take care over, all my books, and I certainly care very much about the story told in The Golden Age of Murder. I'm so pleased that plenty of other people seem to care too.
.
