Category: Book Reviews

Book Notes – Crime Fiction

Published on by Margaret7 Comments

I’ve recently read the following books:

The Tiger In the Smoke by Margarey Allingham (first published 1952).  Jack Havoc is on the loose in post-war London, resulting in murder, mystery and mayhem.  I was immediately struck by the imagery – the fog pervades everything. At times I wished there was a bit less description but at other times I was completely caught up in the story and could feel the tension and fear in the characters. I expected Inspector Campion to take the lead but he only appears as a minor character. I thought the attitude to women was a bit condescending, and Meg, the young widow, didn’t really engage my sympathy.  However, Canon Avril is one of the best characters (along with Tiddy Doll), and forms a complete contrast with Havoc – good/evil.  His view of anger is that it is “the alcohol of the body”, which “deadens the perceptions.” And l liked his thoughts on the soul: “When I was a child I thought of it as a little ghostly bean, kidney shaped, I don’t know why. Now I think of it as the man I am with when I’m alone.”  After a slow start I read with increasing anticipation to find out what happened next.

Detection Unlimited by Georgette Heyer. Published in 1953 a year after Tiger In the Smoke this is a much lighter novel. As the title implies there are many suspects for the murder of Sampson Warrenby, found dead under a tree in his garden with a bullet through his brain and many people all too ready to tell Inspector Hemingway who did it. I was immediately drawn into a world gone by in a small village, with characters such as Mrs Midgeholme with her pack of Pekes, whose names all begin with ‘U’, Mr Drybeck, the old-fashioned solicitor, Warrenby’s long-suffering niece, Mavis, the country squire and his lady-wife, the maiden aunt Miss Patterdale, and the village bobby on his bicycle. A spot of blackmail, and a  number of twists and turns in the plot kept me interested to the end.

I thought A Christmas Visitor by Anne Perry was a little disappointing. The only Christmas connection I could see is that it is set just before Christmas. The good thing about this book is that it is very short (133 pages). The bad thing is that it is rather tedious. It began well set sometime in the 19th century with Henry Rathbone’s visit to the Dreghorn family near Ullswater in the Lake District for Christmas.  Judah, a judge in the local court at Penrith, had been found drowned in a stream, having gone out late at night. It was assumed at first that it was an accident. Antonia, Judah’s widow tells Henry of the death of her husband and then one by one Judah’s brothers, Benjamin, Ephraim and Naomi, his sister-in-law arrive and are met by Henry and he relates the account of Judah’s death to each one and I started to get tired of the repetition. The chief suspect is Ashton Gower, who has just been released from prison, sentenced by Judah to twelve years for forgery. Gower claims to be the rightful owner of the Dreghorns’ house. Not the most riveting of mysteries.

Stillmeadow and Sugarbridge

Published on by Margaret9 Comments

I finished reading Stillmeadow and Sugarbridge by Gladys Taber and Barbara Webster in November. The book is composed of letters between  Gladys Taber in Stillmeadow, Southbury, Connecticut and Barbara Webster in Sugarbridge in Pennsylvania over one year in the 1950s, illustrated by Edward Shenton, Barbara’s husband.  Stillmeadow Friends is a good site for information about Gladys Taber and her books.

 I started to read Stillmeadow and Sugarbridge in August and decided then to take my time and read it slowly and at first I managed to limit my reading to a few letters each time I picked up the book. I wrote about the months of June and July in my Sunday Salon post  at the beginning of November. Since then I couldn’t stop myself from reading it and I finished it by the end of November.

The letters give a good picture of their lives and are full of the love of the countryside, gardening, cooking and their families. I love this  book (thanks again to my friend, Nan of Letters from a Hill Farm who sent it to me). There are so many extracts I could quote that I don’t quite know where to start. Here are a few.

Gladys, writing to Barbara in January:

Do you ever have a moment that is absolutely exquisite? Such moments are rare, they are like holding a pink pearl in your palm. Happiness, I think, is being able to live these moments when they come.

Barbara to Gladys on humour:

A great humorist, I think, is a top blessing to the world. It’s all very well to write grim things, profound tragedies, but we all need a little bright sun to encourage us. I also think it’s harder to be funny.

Barbara, writing about women writers:

I considered for a moment, the fine and fertile individualism of most English women writers, herself [Elizabeth Bowen], Virginia Woolf, shy and fey, fanciful and profound, with a gentle musing face; Edith Sitwell, fierce and inspired, with the air of an Elizabeth high priestess; Rebecca West, a keen and subtle reporter, a powerful novelist.

Gladys on time:

When I hear people doing things to pass the time, I shudder. For the one precious and irreplaceable gift is time, and surely we are in sorrowful state if we merely want to toss it out as fast as possible.

A day is a fine thing, and we shall never see this day again.

It is not a thing to take too easily.

I could go on and on, they write about the natural wants of man, getting inside of others, life as an orange – bitter and sweet, the intoxication of words,  writing, living each minute whilst still looking to the future, the ethics of hunting – to kill or not to kill, books, poetry, dogs, cats, children, flowers, vegetables, birds, the beauty of nature, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and a whole host of other topics; a picture of full and rewarding lives. This is most cetainly a book I shall re-read and re-read.

One last quote from Gladys, with which I can sadly agree. She had been dieting, at least between weekends (oh I know just what she’s saying) and was discouraged when she had worked out:

… that at the rate I am losing, I will be just right by the time I am a hundred and seventy three.

The Arsenic Labyrinth by Martin Edwards

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The Arsenic Labyrinth (Lake District Mystery, #3)

The Arsenic Labyrinth by Martin Edwards is such a good book that I had to put to one side the other books I was reading in order to concentrate on this one alone. It is a fascinating book. Not only is it set in the Lake District, a beautiful part of the country but it is a mystery of the best kind. Ten years earlier Emma Bestwick had disappeared. At the time there had been no apparent reason why she vanished into thin air but more information is revealed following an article in the local paper appealing for the case to be re-opened on the tenth anniversary of her disappearance. There are many twists and turns as Detective Inspector Hannah Scarlett’s Cold Case Review Team carries out its investigation.

This is the third book in Martin Edwards’ Lake District mystery series but it stands well on its own. I haven’t read the first two yet – The Coffin Trail and The Cipher Garden – but I will. I only wish I’d come across these books before. Martin has a very good website giving much more information – see here.

The central characters are Guy, aka R L Stevenson, (you know someone is not who he says he is when he introduces himself as R L Stevenson and Guy has many secrets!), Hannah Scarlett and Daniel Kind, a former historian who has left Oxford to live in the Lake District. As Miranda, Daniel’s partner becomes less enchanted with living in the Lakes,  preferring to live in London, the relationship between Daniel and Hannah is resumed (there is obviously some history to their relationship in the earlier books – I think I’ll have to read those books soon). Daniel meanwhile carries on with researching Ruskin’s life and his dread of “industry encroaching on the glory of the Lakes”, but also gets caught up in Hannah’s investigation.

Soon attention turns to the Arsenic Labyrinth, hidden in the hills on Mispickel Scar. The labyrinth was on the ground level with “shafts and tunnels from the mines winding around the length and breadth of the Scar.” (The author’s note at the end reveals that arsenic was never mined in Cumbria.) The arsenic works brought about the ruin of the Inchmore family and Mispickel Scar is said to be cursed.  Alban Clough, the fount of all knowledge on local mythology, is the owner of the Museum of Myth and Legend, where Emma had worked for a while. But just where did the legend  of the curse of Mispickel Scar originate? And what is the connection between the Clough and Inchmore families and Emma’s disappearance? Tom Inchmore, was the only suspect at the time of Emma’s disappearance but he died some years ago – did he kill her? How does her sister, Karen cope with Emma’s death and where do Francis and Vanessa, who Emma lodged with, fit in? To complicate matters it turns out that Vanessa was previously married to Jeremy, Karen’s husband. The overlapping and complex relationships are eventually sorted out, but just when you think you’ve worked it all out there are yet more complications. I never guessed who-did-it until just before the end.

There is mystery upon mystery as the secrets of the Arsenic Labyrinth are revealed. An engrossing book that had me racing through it and itching to get back to it each time I put it down.

Testimony by Anita Shreve

Published on by Margaret5 Comments

I first came across Anita Shreve’s books in the bookshop at Gatwick Airport, where I bought Fortune’s Rocks to read on holiday. I didn’t have long to choose a book and I was drawn to it by the title and the cover. I wasn’t disappointed and I’ve read all her books since then. Needless to say some of them are not quite as captivating as Fortune’s Rocks, and Testimony is one. Indeed, as I began to read the opening scenes describing the sex scandal at a boarding school in New England I wondered if this was by Anita Shreve and if this had been the first of hers I’d looked at I’d probably have not read it. However, as I read on I was drawn more and more into the story. The events are revealed through many different characters’ perspectives and I soon began to feel sympathy for some of the characters and annoyed by others and wanting to know more.

A video tape of the incident sets in motion a train of events that leads to tragedy. The headmaster, Mike is the main narrator. He views the video with mounting horror and dismay and his attempts to keep the scandal contained only make matters worse as the police and the press become involved. The futures of the three boys who are the school’s basketball stars and the girl who is only fourteen are irrevocably changed, but inevitably this also affects not only their parents and families, but also the reputation of the school, the other pupils and the local community.

 The way that Anita Shreve makes each person memorable and intriguing surprised me. With so many characters adding their thoughts and insights to the events it could have been just a jumbled mass, but I found each “voice” distinctive. The unfolding of the motives and sequence of events helps explain what actually happened and why. But I was still left at the end of the book feeling somewhat disgruntled by the whole thing. Somehow it seemed a bit contrived with everything leading to a miserable ending. The only person who came out of it well was the deputy headmaster who ended up taking over Mike’s job as headmaster. The girl, who remained anonymous throughout under the pseudonym Sienna, was an unlikeable character who seemed to be the one person who emerged unscathed despite her protests of innocence.

Thinking back over the last few books by Anita Shreve, Body Surfing and A Wedding in December are also ones that I didn’t think lived up to her earlier books, such as Fortune’s Rocks, Eden’s Close, The Pilot’s Wife and The Last Time They Met.

An Unsuitable Job for a Woman by P D James

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This is a Cordelia Gray detective story first published in 1972 and I thought I’d seen it as a TV drama some time ago. I checked on Wikipedia and saw that there were two adaptations, one in 1982 and a series made in 1997, with Helen Baxendale as Cordelia, which is the one I remembered. For a detailed account of the plot see Wikipedia.

This is Cordelia’s first assignment on her own after the suicide of Bernie Pryde, her partner in Pryde’s Detective Agency. People assume she won’t carry on the Agency on her as, of course, “it isn’t a suitable job for a woman”.

Cordelia has other ideas and takes on an assignment from Sir Ronald Callander, a famous scientist, to investigate the death of his son, Mark who had been found hanged in suspicious circumstances. It soon becomes clear to her that this is not suicide, but something much more sinister – murder. Mark had left a “suicide note” and the quotation from Blake’s poem “Tyger tyger burning bright” in the note triggers Cordelia’s suspicion that his death was not suicide – that and the knot he had used to hang himself and the merest trace of purple-red lipstick on his upper lip.

Mark had left Cambridge University without completing his degree and taken a job as a gardener, employed by a Major Markland. He was found in the Major’s cottage by his sister. She warned Cordelia:

It is unwise to become too personally involved with another human being. When that human being is dead, it can be dangerous as well as unwise.

Cordelia ignores this warning and finds herself increasingly involved and in danger of her own life. This is a satisfying read with much detailed observation and analysis of motive, a why-dunnit rather than a who-dunnit. There is sufficient information about Cordelia’s earlier life to exercise my mind about her motives for being a detective and I liked the references to Dalgliesh, who had been Bernie Pryde’s boss in the police force – Cordelia keeps remembering pieces of wisdom culled from Dalgleish and quoted to her by Bernie. Dalgleish is one of my favourite detectives – I loved the TV series with Roy Marsden as Dalgleish and have also read quite a few of P D James’s Dalgleish mysteries.

My Friend Maigret by Georges Simenon

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My Friend Maigret (Penguin Red Classics)Maigret leaves a rainy Paris for the balmy Mediterranan island of Porquerolles, three miles from the French coast, where he investigates the murder of Marcellin (also known as Marcel Picaud), a thug, drunkard, thief and pimp – in other words a  “mauvais garcon”. He is accompanied by Mr Pyke, a British detective who is shadowing Maigret to studying his method of working.

There are so many characters in My Friend Maigret that I got confused part way through this book and had to go back to sort out in my mind who they all were. Maigret, however, didn’t have the same problem as he talked to them all in connection with the murder.

The main point of interest for me was not who did the murder as the character of Marcellin remains indistinct throughout the book; he is just a small-time crook who claimed to be Maigret’s friend and that appears to be why he was killed.  No one has left the island since the murder took place and at first there are no obvious suspects but gradually as Maigret meets and talks to the local people he discovers the truth and through analysis and intuition solves the crime. The interest for me lay in the relationship between Maigret and Mr Pyke, the very proper British detective, and in the location on the island of Porquerolles.

Maigret and Pyke are very different characters,and Maigret feels inhibited and irritated by his presence. He worries about whether Pyke is criticising him for drinking, smoking and his general behaviour – was he acting as a detective should? He almost seems to develop an inferiority complex and be feeling very self-conscious. He looks at himself in the mirror and tells himself “That’s the divisional chief inspector!”

… it was not very long ago that he was wearing short trousers … Now he was a grown-up: everyone believed what he said, and there was only himself whom, from time to time, it was hard to convince.

did other people have the same experience? did Mr Pyke, for example, sometimes wonder how other people could take him seriously?

Much is made of the differences between the French Maigret and the English Mr Pyke – in the food and drinks they like, their style of clothes, and the way they speak – Maigret vague and thoughtful, whereas Mr Pyke is methodical and speaks in clipped precise sentences.

Maigret’s vagueness is enhance on the island where the heat makes him feel sleepy and he loses the desire to work. Porquerolles, set in a silky sea that is an incredible blue, is conjured up by the sights, sounds and smells that Simenon scatters throughout the book. There are the smells of food, bouillabaise and saffron oil, wine, mimosa, eucalyptus and fresh coffee; and the sound of bells on Sunday, the noise of the boules players, the laughter and conversation in the Grand Hotel and the sound of the sea.

My thoughts as I finished this book were that it’s not so much a crime or detective story, but it’s really a study of Maigret himself, and of life on a small Mediterranean island.