Martin Edwards's Blog, page 81

The Bibliomaniacs - guest post

John Cooper, co-author with Barry Pike on an excellent book about collecting crime fiction, is one of a small group of experts who give me suggestions for short stories to be included in anthologies, and through him I've come across his son Jonathan, the guiding hand behind a splendid enterprise known as the Bibliomaniacs. I feel they deserve loads of encouragement and so I invited them to contribute a guest post to this blog. Here it is:

'Hello everyone. We represent the Bibliomaniacs. We absolutely love to sell books and eat chocolate! We would like to thank Mr Edwards for letting us write this Blog on his page. It is a great honour to have an article on such an amazing and famous writer's page.

The Bibliomaniacs are the youngest antiquarian booksellers in the world (aged between ten and thirteen). There are currently 25 of us and we meet every Thursday to discuss recent book sales, and to discover more about the history of literature, books and printing. We are members of the PBFA and have attended four PBFA London book fairs as exhibitors.  Some of you may have even bought from us!

We have done a lot of Fairs at Papplewick School in Ascot, which is where we are based. We have two separate groups of boys in this group at the moment because of the current “bubble” rules in schools. We have the more senior Bibliomaniacs who do the more serious parts, for example cataloguing and thinking of ideas. Then we have the Miniacs, who are a bit more wild and smaller: as the name suggests. We always have a lot of fun in both groups though!

You can check us out at https://www.thebibliomaniacs.co.uk/. Our Latest Catalogue is about Sherlock Holmes and his Rivals. It can be found here at https://static1.squarespace.com/static/578a84165016e131ea77905d/t/5fc918b526feeb2c21f4fd94/1607014585675/Sherlock+Holmes+with+SOLD.pdf. The focus of this catalogue is (as is evident from the title) Sherlock Holmes and his near contemporaries. What makes the stories so popular today is undoubtedly their atmospheric descriptions of Victorian London: foggy, crowded and metropolitan, and with a seeming criminal underworld. The books are excellent and so are plenty of the so-called ‘pastiches’ or reworks of Sherlock Holmes. We particularly enjoyed cataloguing Strand Magazines with their advertisements for long-gone products and diverse articles. We also enjoyed learning about less well-known (to us) detectives such as Dr Thorndyke and the Old Man in the Corner. All of our books are worth buying from the catalogue and we have tried to price reasonably. Many may not be in the most tip-top condition but we’d rather read a first edition for not much more (or even less) than it costs to buy a crummy paperback (obviously we don’t mean the British Library series…)

We have an amazing and rather quite knowledgeable founder and “General Factotum”, our Classics teacher Jonathan Cooper, whose father has collected and written about crime fiction for longer than we have all been alive put together (not really). Mr Cooper helps us with the huge things like making sure everything is alright and also proofing some things on the catalogue. He has been an amazing leader amongst all of the difficulties and hardships along our way. We do actually have a boy “ Head Bibliomaniac” who is really in charge. His name is Rupert but currently in these strange times he is unable to be at school and help us as much as he could. 

Thank you again to Mr. Edwards for letting us write this and we hope that you all had as much fun reading this article as much as we did writing it. We have two or three more catalogues coming up in this Crime Fiction series and (spoiler alert) some of Mr Edwards’ early works will appear in a later catalogue.
                                       Andrew Zhang and Jamie Pike  (info.bibliomaniacs@gmail.com)'

And here is a member of the team, who happens to be called Sherlock. So the picture can be captioned 'Sherlock as Sherlock reading Sherlock'!

My thanks go to Andrew, Jamie, Jonathan Cooper, and everyone else involved with the Bibliomaniacs. I only wish there had been such a group at my own school!

  

Forgotten Book - Gold Was Our Grave

Gold Was Our Grave ranks as one of Henry Wade's more obscure titles. It was published in 1954, at a time when his reputation as one of the most accomplished practitioners of Golden Age detection was fading, and it has never attracted any significant critical discussion. But it features his main detective character, the likeable, hard-working, and occasionally fallible John Poole of  Scotland Yard, and boasts several of the attributes that made Wade well worth reading.

The book appeared at a time when the likes of Patricia Highsmith and Margaret Millar on the other side of the Atlantic, and Margot Bennett, Shelley Smith, Julian Symons, and John Bingham in the UK, were remaking the crime novel. Their books didn't, for instance, tend to include maps of the crime scene in the classic tradition - but Wade's novel does, with a drawing of the relevant part of Lincoln's Inn Fields. It's a small point, but it illustrates that he was working in a vein that was no longer fashionable.

The early pages of the story give us a rather plodding (although relevant) account of a fraud trial involving a South American gold mine. None of the alleged fraudsters was convicted and now, it seems, someone is out to take a rather belated revenge. The prime mover in the gold mine fiasco is now a successful businessman and appears to be the victim of an attempted murder. But he doesn't want police protection - will this prove to be a fatal mistake?

There are plenty of classic touches here, as well as a couple of digs, characteristic of Wade, at the pernicious nature of British taxation policy in the post-war era. The plot twist is a variant of one used to brilliant effect by Agatha Christie in the 30s, the detective work is in the Freeman Wills Crofts manner, and the cynical attitude at the end of the book towards the legal system and the nature of justice is worthy of Anthony Berkeley. This is a rather wordy novel, and it could and perhaps should have been pared down considerably. But it's decent entertainment, a book that doesn't deserve to have been so widely overlooked.

Mortmain Hall in paperback

Tomorrow sees the long-awaited (well, by me anyway) publication of Mortmain Hall in its UK paperback edition. Because of the pandemic, the paperback has been delayed from its original scheduled appearance, in common with many other books.

Despite the fact that original publication took place during lockdown, Mortmain Hall has done very well for me and at one point the ebook edition climbed near to the top of the national Kindle charts, as well as being a bestseller in a couple of categories. But sales are one thing, quality reviews quite another. I've been thrilled by the reaction to the book from critics such as A.N. Wilson. It's not easy for a writer who has been around a long time to attract such attention, especially with a book that isn't the first in a series, so despite the difficulties created by the pandemic, I've been very fortunate. A lot of credit goes to the publishers Head of Zeus, not least for commissioning Ed Bettison to create that wonderful jacket Gallows Court has just been republished in paperback with new cover artwork in similar style. I'm so pleased with Ed's art that I persuaded him to supply me with a print of each cover, now framed and waiting for me to find a bit of wall space...

I've talked about the book on a good many platforms. The other day I had the pleasure of being interviewed by two marvellous writers, Abir Mukherjee and Vas Khan, on their podcast. You can listen here  

  

Alanna Knight R.I.P.

Last Thursday I heard the sad news that Alanna Knight had died. Alanna was a leading light in Scottish literary circles and she was a friend of mine for more than thirty years. I've mentioned her a number of times on this blog, most recently when she was involved in organising the CWA conference in Edinburgh in 2017. I had the pleasure of presenting her with a bouquet of flowers as a token of our esteem for her contribution to our community of crime writers. 

She was a stalwart of the CWA and I first got to know her when she and her husband Alistair organised an earlier conference in Edinburgh at the end of the 1980s. That was a memorable weekend and in the years that followed I saw her quite often, not only at annual national conferences but also at events organised by the CWA's northern chapter, which she attended regularly before the Scottish chapter developed. Among those events was a visit to Magna Large Print in Yorkshire; looking back at the photos of that occasion is nostalgic, as they depict several other fine writers who are no longer with us, in the company of a relatively youthful Martin Edwards.

In addition to her many novels, Alanna was a biographer and playwright and expert on the work of that gifted fellow Scot, Robert Louis Stevenson. As a crime writer, she was probably best known for her long series of historical mysteries featuring Inspector Faro. Some years ago I was delighted when she agreed to contribute a Faro short story, "The Case of the Vanishing Vagrant", to a CWA anthology I edited, Guilty Consciences.

Alanna was made an MBE, a well-deserved reflection of her status in the writing world. She and I had many convivial conversations over the years and she was particularly kind to my children in their youth, when I used to drag them along to CWA events. I think it amused and appealed to her that my wife and I brought them. I shall remember her fondly as someone who was always great fun to be with.

  

Forgotten Book - Tidy Death

I first became aware of the detective novels of Nap Lombard thanks to Julian Symons' Bloody Murder. In the fascinating section towards the end of his book in which he mentions a whole range of oddments in the crime genre, he referred to the two books which Pamela Hansford Johnson wrote with her first husband, Neil Stewart under the Lombard pen-name. I don't know what the significance of 'Lombard' was, but I presume that 'Nap' was short for Neil and Pamela. Unfortunately, the books have never been reprinted, and I have never been able to track them down. 

Until recently, that is, and I'm pleased to say that the second novel, Murder's a Swine, also known as The Grinning Pig, will be published next year as a British Library Crime Classic. Today, however, I want to focus on the first book, Tidy Death, which appeared in 1940. By that time Johnson had already published several novels. She'd married Stewart, an Australian journalist, and they amused themselves with a short-lived literary collaboration.

Tidy Death is a thriller rather than a Golden Age-style whodunit (Murder's a Swine is a more conventional detective story, and is more elaborately plotted.) I'd describe this story as a romp which introduces Andrew Kinghof to his future wife Agnes - in the second novel, they are a married couple. Agnes' aunt, Miss Brick, is one of a number of victims in a bizarre murder case which also involves Lord Whitestone, a senior official at Scotland Yard and affectionately known to Andrew as Pig.

This is a breezy story which doesn't take itself too seriously and is none the worse for that. The prose is light and pacy. Not surprisingly, given Johnson's later literary successes, its quality is a cut above the average. I don't think this is as strong a book as its successor, but Agnes and Andrew are a lively pairing in the same mould as Christie's Tommy and Tuppence Beresford. It's a shame that the separations enforced by war led to the break-up of the authors' marriage, but I'm glad that at least one of their joint efforts is being revived at long last.

  

A Study in Terror - 1965 film review

When I was about fourteen, I started reading Ellery Queen novels, some of which were being reprinted and available in the local library. There was also a recently published book, A Study in Terror, which involved Sherlock Holmes and Jack the Ripper. I read it, but was underwhelmed. Many years later, I learned that the book had been written primarily by a minor author called Paul W. Fairman, and that it was a novelisation of a film which had come and gone in the mid-60s without making any impact on my consciousness. The book wasn't bad, but it rather illustrated the weakness of the later ghost-written Ellery Queens - the new writers were (even though some were very capable) generally not as talented as the original pair of authors.  

At long last I've watched the film which inspired the book. It features John Neville as Holmes and a slightly uncomfortable Donald Houston as Watson. The cast is generally high calibre, with stars ranging from Judi Dench to Adrienne Corri and Barbara Windsor and from Frank Finlay to Robert Morley and Anthony Quayle. A lot of talent there! Neville isn't bad as Holmes but his portrayal is subdued. He doesn't get under the skin of the great detective in the way that Jeremy Brett or Douglas Wilmer did. 

I needn't detain you too long with a summary of the plot. A madman is out on the streets of Whitechapel, murdering sex workers. A mysterious package of medical instruments is sent to Holmes, prompting him to investigate. The script is workmanlike, with several clumsy lines when you think: 'Holmes would never have said that!' But it's watchable.

The script was written by Derek Ford and his brother Donald, though apparently it needed a lot of improvement before the film was made. Derek's later films included The Wife Swappers, Keep it Up, Jack, and What's Up, Nurse?, so he wasn't exactly Billy Wilder or Ben Hecht. When Wilder did become involved with a Sherlock Holmes film, the results was a better film, The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes.

 

The Undoing - HBO/Sky Atlantic - final episode review

The Undoing, which came to an end on Sky Atlantic yesterday after the sixth and final episode, is a glossy thriller that has kept me interested throughout, although with some reservations, until letting me down at the end with a peculiarly unimpressive climax. It's one of those shows on which no expense has been spared and the stellar cast - led by Nicole Kidman, Hugh Grant, and Donald Sutherland - was top-notch. In this post, I'm going to discuss the way the story concludes, so beware spoilers.

The serial is based on a novel called You Should Have Known, a title which rather gives the game away. Suffice to say that this murder mystery wasn't in the same league as Broadchurch. But the performances of the lead actors were so compelling that until last night, I suppressed my doubts about the rather stretched-out storyline, which involves the brutal murder of a woman who has been having an affair with Grant (a specialist in cancer treatment) and given birth to his child - a child rather overlooked in the later stages of the story, it has to be said.

For me, the show fell apart in the courtroom, at the same time as Grant's defence. His supposedly hot-shot lawyer agreed to call Grant's wife as a sort of character witness. Why anyone would imagine that a jury would pay any attention to a wife saying that her husband was innocent, when she had no evidence to support that other than her gut feel as a psychiatrist, I really don't know. I know things are different in the US, and I'm no criminal lawyer - but even so. Predictably this bizarre error led to catastrophe, as well as the entertaining sight of the lawyer blaming anybody but herself for the ensuing debacle. At least this incident distracted attention from her previous weird and tasteless decision, to call the young son of the deceased as a witness for the defence.

These unlikely things are done, of course, to inject drama into the story. And yes, crime writers do this all the time - it's why seasoned police officers often cringe at the way we portray police procedure. For me, the test is whether the story works on its own terms. To my disappointment, last night it didn't, and the interest generated by earlier episodes of The Undoing was undone. 

Celebrating Peter Lovesey

Peter Lovesey has enjoyed - and continues to enjoy - a remarkable career. This year sees the 50th anniversary of the publication of his first detective novel, the prize-winning Victorian mystery Wobble to Death. The book launched Peter as a crime writer (he'd previously written a book about athletics) and led to an eight-book series featuring Sergeant Cribb, which resulted in two television series.

Since then, Peter's writing has ranged widely. I reviewed his latest novel, the excellent The Finisher, earlier this year. It's another in his long series featuring the Bath-based cop Peter Diamond. In addition, he's produced many excellent novels, including stand-alones such as The False Inspector Dew, which remains one of my favourite mysteries. On the Edge, a less well-known novel, is another that I very much enjoyed.  

Peter takes great pleasure in writing short stories - I've been fortunate to include several in anthologies that I've edited - and this enthusiasm is reflected in the excellence of his work. I'd argue that he is probably the finest living British exponent of the short mystery. He takes full advantage of the flexibility of the short form, which makes a perfect showcase for his literary versatility. It's his willingness to keep doing things differently, his refusal to be content with the formulaic, that has kept his writing fresh and enjoyable for so long.

His American publishers, Soho Press, have celebrated this remarkable anniversary by producing a special collector's edition of Wobble to Death. It's a lovely production, with a foreword by Jeffrey Deaver and a characteristically entertaining afterword by Peter himself. For the Lovesey fan in your life, I suggest it would make the perfect Christmas present.

  

Forgotten Book - Cobweb

Two novels that Pat Flower wrote towards the end of her career in the 1970s, Crisscross and Cobweb, re-work ideas and themes from her 1962 novel Hell for Heather. Of these three titles, I think the earliest book was the best, and Crisscross the least compelling. Cobweb, published in 1972, is pretty good. In Britain it appeared under the Collins Crime Club imprint, but doesn't seem to have made much impact. Indeed, she was an under-rated writer in her native country, although in her adopted homeland, Australia, she was known as a successful scriptwriter as well as a novelist.

By the time Cobweb appeared, Flower had dispensed with her series cop, Inspector Swinton, although this story features a shrewd and persistent detective called Fisher who is cut from much the same cloth. But Flower's main interest lay in the exploration of the criminal mind, and the protagonist is Martin Briggs, who at the start of the story is dissatisfied with his marriage to the lovely and wealthy Ellie.

Like many of Flower's lead characters, Martin is, beneath a superficial charm, cold and selfish. He murders Ellie, but the crime proves not to be the solution to his problems in life. He is attractive to women, and has a fling with a casual acquaintance before falling for someone else. This is Valerie, who comes into his life unexpectedly, breaking the news that she, rather than he, has inherited Ellie's money. To his delight, however, she seems susceptible to his charms...

The surprise solution is foreshadowed quite neatly and Flowers charts Martin's collapsing self-confidence with clinical precision. There is, however, a sad touch of irony about the storyline. Martin is tormented by insomnia and takes capsules to try to get a decent night's sleep. Flower herself experienced similar misery and in 1978 she took a fatal overdose of her pills. It was a tragic end to a career of some distinction.

CADS 84

The arrival of a new issue of CADS is always a treat. Geoff Bradley, the editor of this splendid fanzine, cunningly spaces out the issues so that they arrive infrequently but always seem to fill a long-felt need. Incredibly, we are now up to issue 84. I have every copy and they form an invaluable resource, with lots of information about vintage detective fiction that simply isn't available elsewhere. If you love Golden Age fiction, this is an indispensable publication. And it also carries a range of other material, including articles and reviews relating to contemporary books.

In this issue, I was delighted to see an essay by Mike Wilson on the subject of Michael Gilbert's plays. Mike invited me to join his students at Loughborough University in February for a Golden Age workshop. I also gave a talk. It was an enjoyable visit, and I never imagined at the time that it would be my one and only event outside Cheshire this year. 

There are plenty of other interesting contributions. Philip Gooden, a thoughtful commentator as well as a crime novelist, writes about Lionel Davidson, while there are two typically snappy articles by Philip Scowcroft and a very interesting piece by Kate Jackson about an Australian mystery competition in the 1950s. Christine Poulson discusses Ethel Lina White and there's a reprint of an old essay by G.K. Chesterton about the Detection Club. Marvin Lachman's obituary column is full of interesting references and John Cooper writes interestingly about the short-lived writing career of Julie Burrows: the reasons why authors who have battled to achieve publication suddenly give up has always fascinated me, although we don't know why Burrows vanished from sight. There's a similar and much more recent mystery concerning Mary Moody, discussed by Lyn McConachie. 

There's much else besides, including two essays by me. One discusses Howdunit. The other, much longer, is the most detailed examination to date of the career of Mary Kelly. I've included a lot of information supplied by Mary's husband Denis, with whom I've enjoyed a fascinating correspondence in recent years. My essay is really a tribute to him as well as to Mary.