Martin Edwards's Blog, page 242
July 13, 2012
Forgotten Book - Mystery at Lynden Sands
The case of the Tichborne Claimant is a classic of impersonation and it has provided the inspiration for a host of crime stories, including today’s Forgotten Book, Mystery at Lynden Sands (1929) by J.J. Connington, a story which recreates the partnership of Sir Clinton Driffield and Squire Wendover first encountered in Murder in the Maze.
This is an enjoyable book, although I found it difficult not to be deterred by an excruciating first chapter in which a brother tediously reminds his sister of the family history, all of which she knew already, simply in order to explain the background to the reader. Including a simple family tree would have been a better option. It’s an example of how not to convey factual information in a novel.
But I was glad I persevered. This poor bit of writing aside, Connington does a very good job in creating one of his complicated fair-play murder mysteries. He makes excellent use of the seaside resort setting for purposes of the plot, although, typically, he provides diagrams of crime scenes rather than memorable descriptions. The Holmes-Watson relationship between Driffield and Wendover is nicely drawn, as are their dealings with the local cop, named Armadale (perhaps after the Wilkie Collins novel?)
One of the intriguing features of the Connington books is the sheer ruthlessness of Driffield. He is quite prepared to let a villain suffer in agony, yet in many ways he is decent and good-natured. His focus is, above all, on evidence, and this reflects Connington’s scientific training. He focuses on facts, like emotions. But despite this touch of coldness, Connington was definitely one of the more interesting writers of the Golden Age.
This is an enjoyable book, although I found it difficult not to be deterred by an excruciating first chapter in which a brother tediously reminds his sister of the family history, all of which she knew already, simply in order to explain the background to the reader. Including a simple family tree would have been a better option. It’s an example of how not to convey factual information in a novel.
But I was glad I persevered. This poor bit of writing aside, Connington does a very good job in creating one of his complicated fair-play murder mysteries. He makes excellent use of the seaside resort setting for purposes of the plot, although, typically, he provides diagrams of crime scenes rather than memorable descriptions. The Holmes-Watson relationship between Driffield and Wendover is nicely drawn, as are their dealings with the local cop, named Armadale (perhaps after the Wilkie Collins novel?)
One of the intriguing features of the Connington books is the sheer ruthlessness of Driffield. He is quite prepared to let a villain suffer in agony, yet in many ways he is decent and good-natured. His focus is, above all, on evidence, and this reflects Connington’s scientific training. He focuses on facts, like emotions. But despite this touch of coldness, Connington was definitely one of the more interesting writers of the Golden Age.
July 12, 2012
Case Sensitive: The Other Half Lives
Case Sensitive: How the Other Half Lives is a two-part series based on a book by Sophie Hannah that I haven’t read. Nor did I see the first Case Sensitive series, which hit the screens last year – somehow, I missed it completely. But I rather enjoyed the first part of this story, although I suspect the novel has many more layers of complexity.
Charlie and Simon, Hannah’s series cops, are played by Olivia Williams and Darren Boyd, who don’t correspond with my mental impression of the characters. All the same, Olivia Williams did impress me; she is a very good actor. Boyd’s role was subordinate, and it’s too soon for me to judge his performance.
The story concerns a very attractive acquaintance of Charlie’s, played by Eva Birthistle, who leaves her husband for an enigmatic piano tuner called Aiden. He confides that he once hurt a woman, but annoyingly refuses to divulge more. Even more infuriatingly, he then complains that his lover should “trust” him, though one is tempted to respond that trust is a two-way thing.
When the woman’s husband is found murdered, Aiden is the obvious suspect, but by the end of this episode, she was in the frame. I expect more twists, and I shall certainly be tuning in to find out what happens. I’m a fan of Hannah’s work and I hope that the two programmes, taken together, do justice to a writer who combines psychological insight with a flair for plot.
July 10, 2012
Events with Fellow Writers
This has been such a horrible “summer” so far in Britain that I had dark forebodings about a barbecue and crime event organised by the tireless Tony Higginson of Formby Books for last Thursday. Yet- miracle of miracles – the evening was sunny and I have the photos to prove it! They were taken by fellow crime writer Ron Ellis, and the photo above also shows June Francis, a prolific and successful writer of Liverpool sagas who has been a friend of mine for many years.
My fellow speakers were Stephen Booth and Frances Brody. Stephen’s Peak District series about the youngish cops Cooper and Fry has achieved a very loyal following. Frances is, in comparison, a newcomer to the scene, but her historical mysteries featuring Kate Shackleton are also making a real impact and this year she was long-listed for the CWA Dagger in the Library.
On Monday of last week, I did an event with Mike Walters at Moreton Library in Wirral. I used to live in Moreton in the 80s, and was a member of the library. This was around the time I started writing my first novel, All the Lonely People. It was fascinating to go back. And I enjoyed the gig enormously – Mike and I did it as a conversation, and although (or because?) we hadn’t planned it in detail, it seemed to go really well. Mike is an interesting writer whose latest books are written under the name Alex Walters. His earlier work is set in Mongolia, and is also well worth a look.
I rather like joint events with other writers, and over the years I’ve done a great many of them. Different pairings have different dynamics, but I honestly can’t think of any writer with whom I’ve done an event in the past with whom I wouldn’t be happy to do another in the future. I can think of a couple of cases where two fellow panel members haven’t really hit it off with each other, but even that is very unusual. Perhaps it shows that writers are more collegiate souls than their solitary occupation might suggest?
July 8, 2012
Short Stories and the CWA Dagger
I wasn’t able to attend the CWA Dagger Awards last Thursday, for pleasant reasons I’ll describe in my next post. I was, however, thrilled to learn that the CWA Short Story Dagger was shared between Cath Staincliffe and Margaret Murphy for their stories from our Murder Squad anthology, Best Eaten Cold and Other Stories, published by The Mystery Press.
Over the years, I’ve had the great fortune to edit books in which a good many stories have appeared which went on to be shortlisted, and quite often to win, awards both here and overseas. This year was, though, the first time that four stories appearing in books I’d edited had featured on the same shortlist. Very nice to get a bit of vicarious glory, and even nicer to have a hand in bringing some fine stories to the attention of readers.
It isn’t easy to persuade publishers to take short stories or anthologies. They do not often sell well. I’m not really sure why. It has never been easy – it’s not just a new phenomenon. And at least the internet is making some short stories more accessible than ever before.
A final word about Murder Squad. The group came into being back in 2000, and despite a few personnel changes, remains highly cohesive. I’m glad to be associated with writers of distinction who also happen to be, without exception, delightful people.
July 5, 2012
Forgotten Book - The Public School Murder
R.C. Woodthorpe was a pretty successful author in the 1930s, and his best known novel, which I have in a green Penguin edition, is my Forgotten Book for today. This is The Public School Murder, and its school setting, Polchester, is evidently based on Christ’s Hospital, where Woodthorpe taught in the Twenties before going into journalism.
The story is agreeably written, and it makes a virtue of the public school ethos, about which views are probably as divided today as they were in the Golden Age. Much of the tale is told from the viewpoint of one of the teachers, although it is the head of the governing body of the school who eventually acts as amateur detective and comes up with a solution to the mystery of how Polchester’s headmaster died.
I’ve never read anything else by Woodthorpe, but I would like to do so. The trouble is that his books are now rather elusive – it would be good if someone could bring them back into print. However, very little information seems to be available about Woodthorpe, and such detection work as I’ve been able to do has been rather poignant.
His full name was Ralph Carter Woodthorpe, and he lived until 1971. But he gave up writing following the outbreak of the war, and soon his reputation became shrouded in obscurity. He was a good enough writer to have been elected to the Detection Club in 1935 – yet his name is nowadays not even included on the list of the Club’s past members! Very sad, but at least I can do my best to put that right. He doesn’t deserve to be so neglected, but it’s sobering to be reminded yet again of the transience of success.
July 3, 2012
Desmond Cory
I’ve written previously on this blog about Desmond Cory, an extremely interesting crime novelist of the recent past. He wrote, among other things, that most unusual novel Bennett and Deadfall, which was filmed with Michael Caine, and a great John Barry score.
Cory is one of those writers in whom interest is reviving, I’m glad to say. (Another of roughly similar vintage is Andrew Garve, and I’ll talk more about him in the future.) Those excellent print on demand publishers Ostara have reissued Undertow, which is one of their series of “Top Notch Thrillers”, and this is yet another illustration of the way p.o.d., as well as digital publishing is making good books widely available again after too long a gap.
Cory’s real name was Shaun MacCarthy, and through writing about him, I’ve come into contact with his son Richard, who is doing sterling work in preserving his father’s literary legacy. He tells me, by the way, that Cory wasn’t a fan of the film made of Deadfall, but I hope he did at least like the music!
Richard kindly drew to my attention to On the Gulf, now available for download on Amazon Kindle. This is a thriller set in the imaginary – but entirely credible – Middle Eastern state of Fariq. As is often the case with Cory’s work, the focus is not just on action, but also on psychological insight into the characters. Definitely worth a look.
I’m pleased to see that Cory’s early work is also becoming available for download. An example – which I have not read as yet, but intend to – is his second book, Begin, Murderer! in which private eye Lindsey Grey investigates a series of murders. There’s something a bit different about Cory, a quirkiness as well as an interest in people under pressure – often in exotic places – which marked him out from the crowd and makes his work well worth discovering, or rediscovering.
July 1, 2012
Specific Gravity
Round-robin mysteries have featured several times on this blog, and I’ve mentioned that I find them rather fascinating. I shall have more news before long of an interesting reprint that I’m involved with, but in the meantime, I’m delighted to say that the first collaborative mystery that I’ve been involved with is now available.
It came into existence through an initiative of the lovely people who run the Theakston’s Old Peculier Crime Fiction Festival at Harrogate each year. This has become a major event for fans, and regularly features a host of international best-sellers. So I was extremely gratified when the organisers invited me to take part in writing a chapter of Specific Gravity, a mystery broadly (and in many ways, distantly) in the tradition of The Floating Admiral.
The story was to be started and finished by Stuart MacBride, who has become a superstar of the contemporary crime novel. Other contributors were to be Laura Wilson, Natasha Cooper, Martyn Waites, Allan Guthrie, Ann Cleeves, Charlie Williams, Zoe Sharp and Dreda Say Mitchell. Very good company to be in!
This joint enterprise was all about having fun, and I approached it in that spirit. There was no advance planning – each writer did their own thing. I wrote in a different style from usual, and really enjoyed writing my chapter. But then the project went very quiet for a long time, as consideration was given as to how to promote it. Now, at last, it’s emerged – and at long last, when I get a spare moment, I shall finally find out what happened in the story after I did my bit!
If you fancy seeing what we all made of the project, take a look at Specific Gravity . Incidentally, having enjoyed contributing this one, I’m now involved with another round-robin project, though this one will be very different. More about that in the fullness of time...
June 30, 2012
Murder Gone Mad
Murder Gone Mad by Philip Macdonald is arguably a landmark in the crime genre. Published in 1931, it is, as far as I know, the first Golden Age serial killer novel in which there was no rational motive for the crimes.
Murder strikes in the peaceful town of Holmdale in shocking fashion, when an eleven year old boy called Lionel is stabbed to death. The police receive a message from ^The Butcher” about the crime, and this sets a pattern. A series of young people, male and female, are killed by “The Butcher”, and panic sets in.
One of Macdonald’s regular cops, the Scotland Yard man Arnold Pike, is called in to lead the investigation, but although a passing mention is made of Macdonald’s amateur sleuth Colonel Anthony Gethryn, Gethryn does not play any part in the story.
More than 80 years after this book was published, it’s difficult to judge it fairly. The crimes are shocking, but by modern standards, naturally, the material is tame There is a surprise solution, in terms of the revelation of the culprit’s identity, but this is not a “fair play” mystery, and more seriously, there is no explanation of what caused the psychological collapse that led a seemingly harmless individual to commit such shocking crimes. The book is, then, a historical curiosity which may fail to satisfy most modern readers, but Macdonald was a pioneer in this field, and, for all his faults, he remains one of the more interesting writers of the 30s.
Murder strikes in the peaceful town of Holmdale in shocking fashion, when an eleven year old boy called Lionel is stabbed to death. The police receive a message from ^The Butcher” about the crime, and this sets a pattern. A series of young people, male and female, are killed by “The Butcher”, and panic sets in.
One of Macdonald’s regular cops, the Scotland Yard man Arnold Pike, is called in to lead the investigation, but although a passing mention is made of Macdonald’s amateur sleuth Colonel Anthony Gethryn, Gethryn does not play any part in the story.
More than 80 years after this book was published, it’s difficult to judge it fairly. The crimes are shocking, but by modern standards, naturally, the material is tame There is a surprise solution, in terms of the revelation of the culprit’s identity, but this is not a “fair play” mystery, and more seriously, there is no explanation of what caused the psychological collapse that led a seemingly harmless individual to commit such shocking crimes. The book is, then, a historical curiosity which may fail to satisfy most modern readers, but Macdonald was a pioneer in this field, and, for all his faults, he remains one of the more interesting writers of the 30s.
Forgotten Book - Murder Gone Mad
Murder Gone Mad by Philip Macdonald, today’s Forgotten Book, is arguably a landmark in the crime genre. Published in 1931, it is, as far as I know, the first Golden Age serial killer novel in which there was no rational motive for the crimes.
Murder strikes in the peaceful town of Holmdale in shocking fashion, when an eleven year old boy called Lionel is stabbed to death. The police receive a message from ^The Butcher” about the crime, and this sets a pattern. A series of young people, male and female, are killed by “The Butcher”, and panic sets in.
One of Macdonald’s regular cops, the Scotland Yard man Arnold Pike, is called in to lead the investigation, but although a passing mention is made of Macdonald’s amateur sleuth Colonel Anthony Gethryn, Gethryn does not play any part in the story.
More than 80 years after this book was published, it’s difficult to judge it fairly. The crimes are shocking, but by modern standards, naturally, the material is tame There is a surprise solution, in terms of the revelation of the culprit’s identity, but this is not a “fair play” mystery, and more seriously, there is no explanation of what caused the psychological collapse that led a seemingly harmless individual to commit such shocking crimes. The book is, then, a historical curiosity which may fail to satisfy most modern readers, but Macdonald was a pioneer in this field, and, for all his faults, he remains one of the more interesting writers of the 30s.
Murder strikes in the peaceful town of Holmdale in shocking fashion, when an eleven year old boy called Lionel is stabbed to death. The police receive a message from ^The Butcher” about the crime, and this sets a pattern. A series of young people, male and female, are killed by “The Butcher”, and panic sets in.
One of Macdonald’s regular cops, the Scotland Yard man Arnold Pike, is called in to lead the investigation, but although a passing mention is made of Macdonald’s amateur sleuth Colonel Anthony Gethryn, Gethryn does not play any part in the story.
More than 80 years after this book was published, it’s difficult to judge it fairly. The crimes are shocking, but by modern standards, naturally, the material is tame There is a surprise solution, in terms of the revelation of the culprit’s identity, but this is not a “fair play” mystery, and more seriously, there is no explanation of what caused the psychological collapse that led a seemingly harmless individual to commit such shocking crimes. The book is, then, a historical curiosity which may fail to satisfy most modern readers, but Macdonald was a pioneer in this field, and, for all his faults, he remains one of the more interesting writers of the 30s.
June 28, 2012
Forgotten Book - The Missing Partners
I’ve mentioned several times my enthusiasm for Henry Wade, and my Forgotten Book for today is his second novel, The Missing Partners. A highly unusual feature of the book is its setting – in Merseyside, which Wade evidently knew quite well. And I was pleased to see a Liverpool solicitor forming part of a group of amateur sleuths who compete with the police to solve the problem!
Tom Fairbanks is a young clerk working for the Inland Revenue whose girlfriend is the daughter of an accountant working in a small shipping company. The two brothers who run the company go missing at the same time, and it seems that one of them has killed the other.
What follows is quite a complicated plot involving train times and smuggling, and the details are not especially entrancing to a modern reader. But there is a liveliness about the characterisation, as well as a pacy narrative, to keep one interested. And it is certainly worth persevering to the end, as Wade produces a clever and unexpected solution.
Henry Wade would go on to write better books than this one, but already he was showing himself to be a distinctive talent. And what is particularly admirable about him is the sheer variety of his work. You never know quite what to expect. This range probably made it difficult for him to achieve fame in his lifetime. But it keeps his work fresh and interesting to this day.
Tom Fairbanks is a young clerk working for the Inland Revenue whose girlfriend is the daughter of an accountant working in a small shipping company. The two brothers who run the company go missing at the same time, and it seems that one of them has killed the other.
What follows is quite a complicated plot involving train times and smuggling, and the details are not especially entrancing to a modern reader. But there is a liveliness about the characterisation, as well as a pacy narrative, to keep one interested. And it is certainly worth persevering to the end, as Wade produces a clever and unexpected solution.
Henry Wade would go on to write better books than this one, but already he was showing himself to be a distinctive talent. And what is particularly admirable about him is the sheer variety of his work. You never know quite what to expect. This range probably made it difficult for him to achieve fame in his lifetime. But it keeps his work fresh and interesting to this day.
