Martin Edwards's Blog, page 252
December 16, 2011
Forgotten Book - Careless Corpse
My forgotten book today is an obscure but extraordinary novel written by a fascinating, idiosyncratic and sometimes maddening American Golden Age storyteller. The book is Careless Corpse, first published in 1937, and the author C. Daly King. And it included that odd paragraph on economics that I teased you with yesterday.
I've mentioned King before in this blog. He was a psychologist who wrote books on the subject, and he drew from his professional expertise for his novels. But this did not take him down the road of "psychological suspense" – his fiction bears no resemblance to that of Francis Iles, say, or C.S. Forester. On the contrary, he specialised in elaborate puzzles, often weighed down by strange digressions into academic debates. An example is the passage I quoted in my quiz question.
In this novel, a series of deaths occur among members of a party of celebrities – including a concert pianist, a violinist, a dancer, a composer, and a musical critic. The party is organised by a wealthy scientist, and the setting is an island amid the ice-floes of the Hudson River.
As so often, King provides helpful diagrams – no fewer than five – and arranges the text in a series of "movements" to underline the musical aspects of the story. The plot is elaborate and wildly ingenious (and, of course, improbable) and there is some entertaining writing mixed in with a bit of padding here and there. I don't claim this book is great literature, but I really did enjoy it as a light, escapist read.
I've mentioned King before in this blog. He was a psychologist who wrote books on the subject, and he drew from his professional expertise for his novels. But this did not take him down the road of "psychological suspense" – his fiction bears no resemblance to that of Francis Iles, say, or C.S. Forester. On the contrary, he specialised in elaborate puzzles, often weighed down by strange digressions into academic debates. An example is the passage I quoted in my quiz question.
In this novel, a series of deaths occur among members of a party of celebrities – including a concert pianist, a violinist, a dancer, a composer, and a musical critic. The party is organised by a wealthy scientist, and the setting is an island amid the ice-floes of the Hudson River.
As so often, King provides helpful diagrams – no fewer than five – and arranges the text in a series of "movements" to underline the musical aspects of the story. The plot is elaborate and wildly ingenious (and, of course, improbable) and there is some entertaining writing mixed in with a bit of padding here and there. I don't claim this book is great literature, but I really did enjoy it as a light, escapist read.
Forgotten Book -Careless Corpse
My forgotten book today is an obscure but extraordinary novel written by a fascinating, idiosyncratic and sometimes maddening American Golden Age storyteller. The book is Careless Corpse, first published in 1937, and the author C. Daly King. And it included that odd paragraph on economics that I teased you with yesterday.
I've mentioned King before in this blog. He was a psychologist who wrote books on the subject, and he drew from his professional expertise for his novels. But this did not take him down the road of "psychological suspense" – his fiction bears no resemblance to that of Francis Iles, say, or C.S. Forester. On the contrary, he specialised in elaborate puzzles, often weighed down by strange digressions into academic debates. An example is the passage I quoted in my quiz question.
In this novel, a series of deaths occur among members of a party of celebrities – including a concert pianist, a violinist, a dancer, a composer, and a musical critic. The party is organised by a wealthy scientist, and the setting is an island amid the ice-floes of the Hudson River.
As so often, King provides helpful diagrams – no fewer than five – and arranges the text in a series of "movements" to underline the musical aspects of the story. The plot is elaborate and wildly ingenious (and, of course, improbable) and there is some entertaining writing mixed in with a bit of padding here and there. I don't claim this book is great literature, but I really did enjoy it as a light, escapist read.
I've mentioned King before in this blog. He was a psychologist who wrote books on the subject, and he drew from his professional expertise for his novels. But this did not take him down the road of "psychological suspense" – his fiction bears no resemblance to that of Francis Iles, say, or C.S. Forester. On the contrary, he specialised in elaborate puzzles, often weighed down by strange digressions into academic debates. An example is the passage I quoted in my quiz question.
In this novel, a series of deaths occur among members of a party of celebrities – including a concert pianist, a violinist, a dancer, a composer, and a musical critic. The party is organised by a wealthy scientist, and the setting is an island amid the ice-floes of the Hudson River.
As so often, King provides helpful diagrams – no fewer than five – and arranges the text in a series of "movements" to underline the musical aspects of the story. The plot is elaborate and wildly ingenious (and, of course, improbable) and there is some entertaining writing mixed in with a bit of padding here and there. I don't claim this book is great literature, but I really did enjoy it as a light, escapist read.
December 15, 2011
Quiz Question
Here's an extract from a book I've just read. It amused and intrigued me because the passage was written in 1937, yet arguably it has a modern resonance in these troubled economic times.
But the question is – do you know which book it appeared in? I will be very impressed if anyone knows the answer – but I'll put you out of your misery tomorrow!
Here's the quote:
"Why, this, country is on the skids properly now! With your taxes boosted practically to the British level, what do you do with them? The British use theirs to balance their budget, set their nation in order, pay for their necessary current running expenses; you use it for political bribery of the most corrupt kind and still pile up deficits twice or more as large as the increased taxes."
Any ideas?
But the question is – do you know which book it appeared in? I will be very impressed if anyone knows the answer – but I'll put you out of your misery tomorrow!
Here's the quote:
"Why, this, country is on the skids properly now! With your taxes boosted practically to the British level, what do you do with them? The British use theirs to balance their budget, set their nation in order, pay for their necessary current running expenses; you use it for political bribery of the most corrupt kind and still pile up deficits twice or more as large as the increased taxes."
Any ideas?
December 14, 2011
R.I.P. Gilbert Adair
I never met Gilbert Adair, but I was sorry to learn of his death a few days ago. He was only 66, and suffered a second stroke; the first, it seems, had robbed him of much of his vision, a tragedy for anyone, but certainly for someone who loved reading as much as Adair must have done.
I've mentioned Adair once or twice before in this blog. He was a sophisticated writer, with a real interest in detective fiction. I read his A Closed Book when it first came out years ago, and enjoyed it. Some people see it as a sort of updating of Francis Iles, one of my favourite crime authors of the past.
In recent years, Adair had dabbled in pastiche, and he produced three books boasting titles which are riffs on Christie classics – And Then There Was No One , a very tricky piece of work, was his last published novel, as it turns out. His books tended to get a mixed reception from Golden Age fans, but there was no doubting Adair's flair, intelligence or ability to see things differently. One of his titles was The Postmodernist Always Rings Twice. You either like that kind of joke, or you don't, and I definitely do.
In an excellent obituary in The Daily Telegraph, Jake Kerridge highlighted an excellent passage from A Mysterious Affair of Style (2007) which is worth quoting:
"It's my theory...that the tension...of a whodunit....has much less to do with, say, the revelation of the murderer's identity...than with the growing apprehension in the reader's own mind that...the ending might turn out to be, yet again, a letdown...the reader's fear [is] not that the detective will fail...but that the author will fail."
A fascinating, if controversial proposition – and thus typical of Gilbert Adair's work.How I wish I'd had the chance to meet and talk with him and get a better insight into a brilliant mind.
I've mentioned Adair once or twice before in this blog. He was a sophisticated writer, with a real interest in detective fiction. I read his A Closed Book when it first came out years ago, and enjoyed it. Some people see it as a sort of updating of Francis Iles, one of my favourite crime authors of the past.
In recent years, Adair had dabbled in pastiche, and he produced three books boasting titles which are riffs on Christie classics – And Then There Was No One , a very tricky piece of work, was his last published novel, as it turns out. His books tended to get a mixed reception from Golden Age fans, but there was no doubting Adair's flair, intelligence or ability to see things differently. One of his titles was The Postmodernist Always Rings Twice. You either like that kind of joke, or you don't, and I definitely do.
In an excellent obituary in The Daily Telegraph, Jake Kerridge highlighted an excellent passage from A Mysterious Affair of Style (2007) which is worth quoting:
"It's my theory...that the tension...of a whodunit....has much less to do with, say, the revelation of the murderer's identity...than with the growing apprehension in the reader's own mind that...the ending might turn out to be, yet again, a letdown...the reader's fear [is] not that the detective will fail...but that the author will fail."
A fascinating, if controversial proposition – and thus typical of Gilbert Adair's work.How I wish I'd had the chance to meet and talk with him and get a better insight into a brilliant mind.
December 12, 2011
Dorothy and Wilkie
Dorothy L Sayers had ahuge admiration for her Victorian predecessor Wilkie Collins. I too am a Collins fan, and it's interesting to see the ways in which his work sometimesinfluenced hers. Perhaps the most notable example is to be found in theepistolary form that she adopted for her non-Wimsey novel The Documents in theCase.
For many years, Sayerstalked about writing a biography of Collins. She did start work on it, butnever managed to complete it – for reasons that are not entirely clear. She hadall the attributes, certainly including a gift for scholarship, that would haveequipped her ideally for the task.
I've often wonderedabout the incomplete biography, and recently John Curran told me that it hadbeen published, but was very difficult to obtain. Now, thanks to the kindnessof Christopher Dean, the chairman of the Dorothy L Sayers Society, I have beenable to borrow a copy, which I read with much interest.
There are one or twopassing observations to her fellow detective story writers, J.J. Connington andHenry Wade, but sadly, the manuscript finishes before Sayers reaches the pointin Collins' life when he wrote his masterpieces, The Moonstone and The Woman in White. What a pity that we do not have a really detailed study of those booksfrom Sayers in the context of Collins' life story. Perhaps she meant to returnto the book one day in the future. Her sudden and rather premature death meantthat she did not have the chance to do so – and we are the poorer for it, eventhough it is pleasing that the fragment remains in existence.
For many years, Sayerstalked about writing a biography of Collins. She did start work on it, butnever managed to complete it – for reasons that are not entirely clear. She hadall the attributes, certainly including a gift for scholarship, that would haveequipped her ideally for the task.
I've often wonderedabout the incomplete biography, and recently John Curran told me that it hadbeen published, but was very difficult to obtain. Now, thanks to the kindnessof Christopher Dean, the chairman of the Dorothy L Sayers Society, I have beenable to borrow a copy, which I read with much interest.
There are one or twopassing observations to her fellow detective story writers, J.J. Connington andHenry Wade, but sadly, the manuscript finishes before Sayers reaches the pointin Collins' life when he wrote his masterpieces, The Moonstone and The Woman in White. What a pity that we do not have a really detailed study of those booksfrom Sayers in the context of Collins' life story. Perhaps she meant to returnto the book one day in the future. Her sudden and rather premature death meantthat she did not have the chance to do so – and we are the poorer for it, eventhough it is pleasing that the fragment remains in existence.
December 11, 2011
Blogs
Jessica Mann is a writer of very interesting novels, some of which I've mentioned in the past. She's also a critic and commentator, with a very good full-length study of female crime writers, Deadlier Than the Male, to her name.
Jessica has now started a blog with discussions about "pre-feminism for post-feminists", a topic that really is much more fascinating than that tag-line may suggest. You could argue that feminist issues are at the heart of much of Jessica's fiction, but her novels are certainly not didactic, and any points she wants to make don't get in the way of the story.
The blog anticipates the appearance next spring of her latest non-fiction book, The Fifties Mystique, which evidently talks about some issues of concern to feminists. But whether or not one labels oneself as feminist, I'd expect it to be a very interesting piece of work. As a male reader who enjoys many books written by women and featuring female characters, I'm looking forward to it.
On the subject of blogs, you'll have gathered that I've been having continuing problems with the new version of Blogger. My apologies – and thanks for your patience. My webmaster is now back to help me get things sorted out - hence the new layout. There are still some issues to iron out, but I hope that both the blog and my website will be looking better and more up to date before Christmas.
Jessica has now started a blog with discussions about "pre-feminism for post-feminists", a topic that really is much more fascinating than that tag-line may suggest. You could argue that feminist issues are at the heart of much of Jessica's fiction, but her novels are certainly not didactic, and any points she wants to make don't get in the way of the story.
The blog anticipates the appearance next spring of her latest non-fiction book, The Fifties Mystique, which evidently talks about some issues of concern to feminists. But whether or not one labels oneself as feminist, I'd expect it to be a very interesting piece of work. As a male reader who enjoys many books written by women and featuring female characters, I'm looking forward to it.
On the subject of blogs, you'll have gathered that I've been having continuing problems with the new version of Blogger. My apologies – and thanks for your patience. My webmaster is now back to help me get things sorted out - hence the new layout. There are still some issues to iron out, but I hope that both the blog and my website will be looking better and more up to date before Christmas.
December 10, 2011
The Oliva Reader
Spangle, who has kindly contributed quite a few comments to 'Do You Write Under Your Own Name?', has a
blog herself, which I've belatedly added to the blogroll. She invited me to contribute a piece to her 'Chapters in
My Life' series, and this is the link to at http://theolivareader.blogspot.com/2011/12/chapters-in-my-life-week-10.htm"lher blog
blog herself, which I've belatedly added to the blogroll. She invited me to contribute a piece to her 'Chapters in
My Life' series, and this is the link to at http://theolivareader.blogspot.com/2011/12/chapters-in-my-life-week-10.htm"lher blog
December 9, 2011
Forgotten Book - Bennett
My Forgotten Book fortoday was published in 1977. Desmond Cory (a pseudonym) was a prolific writerof thrillers who occasionally dabbled in psychological suspense. Bennett washis last foray into that field, and I suspect that it was not a particularlysuccessful book. It is, however, by any standards a pretty extraordinary pieceof work.
Part of the book takesthe form of a journal, ostensibly written by a detective novelist calledWilliam Bennett. He has gone missing inSpain, and a young cop called Hunter has come out to try and find him, inconnection with the death of an au pair girl back in Britain.
The case has someechoes of the Lord Lucan case, but Cory's concern is not to offer a "solution"to that famous mystery, but rather to indulge in an intellectual game with thereader. Are there two journals, are there two men claiming to be Bennett? Anddoes Hunter have a close personal connection with the man he is... hunting?
I first read this booknot long after it came out. I was disappointed by its anti-climactic nature,and I suspect most other readers shared my frustration. At least one reviewerdescribed the book as boring. But on re-readng it, I had more sympathy with Cory'sattempt to do something very different with the crime novel. It's certainly intelligent, original and unrepeatable. Andthere are some fascinating allusions to classic detective fiction – such as TheWraith, an obscure book by PhilipMacdonald – which are not fully developed, but which somehow give the book abit more depth. Bennett may be a failure, but it's an intriguing failure and iswell worth inspection – as long as you don't expect the orthodox.
December 8, 2011
Devil - film review
Whilst on holiday recently, I had the opportunity to watch the recent movie Devil and I found I enjoyed it immensely. It's a modern film, and yet it has some distinctly classic elements. So when, after watching it, I read about the film on the internet, I wasn't surprised to learn that M. Night Shamaylan, one o the team behind the film, and famous for the spookiness of his work, acknowledged that the story involved a nod to Agatha Christie.
More than a single nod, in fact. The main story is a riff on And Then There Were None, but in the dialogue there is also a hint of the plot-line from The ABC Murders. Suffice to say that I thought the film-makers used the Christie inspiration pretty well.
The story is taut (the film only lasts 80 minutes, and the brevity of the film helps to ensure that the intensity of the narrative is maintained) and compelling. An elevator in a skyscraper gets stuck and it seems that Satan is in there along with the five passengers. One by one, they meet grisly ends.
None of the actors was familiar to me, but they all did a decent job, and I felt that the film was well done, and the story presented in compelling way. The claustrophobic environment of the elevator in particular is beautifully conveyed. Devil is a world away from Fatal Descent, an elevator based novel I discussed here recently. But it's much better than the Golden Age book by John Rhode and Carter Dickson, and, despite the lurid nature of the plot, it is strangely more credible.
December 7, 2011
End In Tears
I have written beforein this blog of my huge admiration for Ruth Rendell. At one time, I had readevery novel and short story she'd published, both under her own name and asBarbara Vine. In the past 10 years or so, however, I've missed a few titles,and I've rather felt that (with a few notable exceptions) her most recent bookshave not quite reached the remarkable standards of excellence that she set inthe past. But she remains a gifted writer, and I'm keen to fill in the gaps.
I decided that I'd tryan audio book version of one of her Wexford stories, and was tempted by End inTears, especially as it was read by Christopher Ravenscroft, who was so good ontelevision in the role of Detective Inspector Mike Burden. I really like theWexford series, and I also admired the performance of the late George Baker asa very believable television Wexford.
Again,however, I have felt that there has been something of a falling-off in the morerecent Wexford books. For my taste, Rendell became a little too anxious toshove some social comment into the stories, and in such a long-establishedseries, this occasionally seems a bit awkward and unconvincing. But I make thisobservation simply because I think Ruth Rendell is such a fine writer that sheought to be judged by the most demanding standards (most of the rest of us needjustice to be tempered with a liberal dose of mercy!)
Endin Tears is a well-constructed mystery, although not ideally suited to audiobook abridgement, which led to a slightly fragmentary narrative and perhaps toomany characters. The social comment element here is about surrogacy, and Ifound this fairly interesting. But the actual murder motive was, to my mind, genuinelyfascinating, and neatly concealed. This book may not rank with the best ofWexford, but it is still enjoyable and I'm glad I've caught up with it at last.
