4 x Patricia Wentworth

Patricia Wentworth is an author that I have (hithertooooooo) completely overlooked. I'm not sure why I've never spotted her - possibly her name reminds me of another author that I don't care for, possibly it's just another example of my scatty approach to enjoying detective stories. Anyway, she's one of the golden oldies of vintage crime, and I was put on to her by a tip on a forum I frequent. Also, I'd just come across the name at the back of a Cyril Hare book, I think, because it rang a bell as soon as I'd read it. Another example of coincidence being all over this thing we call life. So I skedaddled over to the library and borrowed everything they had to offer - not much, sadly - because as I said, I need to indulge in a bit of crime fiction for a bit.

A novel by Wentworth is easily read in one night's work (if you work nights as I do). They are heavily tinged with the author's other literary bent, namely that as penner of romance novels. There is always a young couple in it, who are in love but don't at first realise it, or are thwarted by one of them being suspects in the murder, or something to that effect. At the end they of course fall happily into an embrace for ever after - it's really rather Austen-esque. One of the novels I read now, The Gazebo, even has a Persuasion theme - years ago, the unfeeling relations forced the young couple apart, but now they meet again etc. Sweet!

Our detective hero is Miss Maud Silver, who used to be a governess but now runs a private enquiry agency. I love this old-fashioned term for private eye by the way. It's very quaint. Miss Silver is one of those old ladies who finds out a load of things simply by always knitting and looking old and harmless - a bit like Miss Marple, but not as draconian. As a recall Miss Marple, she can be quite hard-core: a staunch supporter of the death penalty for example. Wouldn't surprise me if she in one book or other advocates the rod as the best aid in child-rearing - Miss Silver however in The Watersplash clearly says that if you beat a child you've failed at raising it. I find myself a little untaken with Miss Silver though despite all this, mostly due to Wentworth giving her an annoying cough, that she uses to punctuate her speech at The Important Moments. Dreadfully irritating. Other than that she's rather grand. A random thing I really like is that Miss Silver is in at least three of the books I think is knitting baby vests in pink wool. She does this regardless of the sex of the child - in two cases she doesn't know it as it's not yet born. Wonderful. I choose to see this as proof of the somewhat controversial statement that pink was a colour for boys up until the 50s or so (Miss Silver is knitting unisex pink during that decade).

I've read, in this order, Spotlight (1949), The Gazebo (1955), The Key (1946) and The Watersplash (1954). All four as you can see set in the war and post-war era, with references to rationing, egg substitute, bombings and happiness at pink wool finally being available again after so many years of khaki. The Key is set smack in the middle of the war and has a spy theme, even. Spotlight is the oldest edition, from 1952, and has this great romantic retro cover that seems to have been the norm for Wentworth novels for a while, since The Key and The Gazebo are re-prints from 2005 and have the same style artwork on the front. Cute but a little embarrassing to read in public, if you are a little vain, as I am. Whatever did people who saw me think? The Watersplash has a horribly lurid MURDER!!! cover photo though, printed in -88 that one is. The first and last of the books listed are old enough to be dotted through with comments by the crime aficionado/proof reader who haunts the pages of all older crime novels the library possesses, at least in the English section. Haven't come across her (I think it's a her) for ages! I wonder why she stopped commenting? Is she dead? Or did she just move? Or stop reading? Check the link and you'll see that I asked myself these questions before.

Spotlight: the only one where the murder takes place in a country house in manner of a classic whodunnit. A young woman, Dorinda, takes a job as private secretary to a rather indolent wife of a wealthy man. They are all invited to visit a business accquaintance of the husband's. All the guests are oddly ill-matched and make up an awkward house party. When their host is found murdered it transpires that he was blackmailing them all. Fascinating little thing: Dorinda is supposed to have unusual colouring with hair and eyes the same shade of gold, and her cousin fervently hopes that she'll not start tinting her eyelashes, they are so beautiful as they are. Imagine that these days when mascara is such a norm. Sigh.

The Gazebo: See above. The evil relation (mother) is found strangled. Did the thwarted fiancé do it? Or has it got something to do with the fact that two people seem oddly keen on buying the young lady's house, no matter the cost?

The Key: an inventor and refugee from a concentration camp has finally finished the explosive he's been working on for so long. Immediately after announcing this fact he is murdered. Warum?

The Watersplash: a young man returns after being missing for five years. Everyone thought he was dead, including the rich uncle who made a new will and left everything to his own brother. But was that really the end of it all? A local drunk who claims to have witnessed an even newer will is found dead in the local watersplash (whatever that is, I have to look this up when I get home - is it a glorified word for puddle?). Somebody is killing those few who might have an inkling that there is something odd with the wills…

I can't say I have a favourite, because to be honest they are all pretty much the same. The plot is fair - good workmanship throughout. They're not proper whodunnits I'd say, as evidence keeps falling in all through the book. I liked them though and will definitely keep a look-out for more! - the library has none so it'll have to be careful second-hand browsing and possibly a bit of an E-bay spree. But not for a while, I must be good now. I've been too liberal lately.

Oh, final note: what I especially like about vintage crime is that you do learn something, honest, while enjoying yourself. I've learned during this recent spree that the expression originally was "to make up" and not "to apply make-up" or "put make-up on". Very educational.

P.D. James: The Murder Room

I have a feeling I may have read this before - I often get that feeling with these British crime authors, both because I may actually have read them, but also because they are so often televised. It is impossible to imagine the face of Adam Dalgliesh as anything other than that of "his" actor now, of course. Anyway, I took it on a whim and if I've read it it must have been long enough ago for me to forget most of it, so all is well. I see that I have never blogged about a P.D. James book since this one - not surprising since I think my last P.D. James craze was in my teens sometime.

It's one of the newer Jameses, and I believe I said in the previous post that I'm not as fond of them. I somehow feel that they become so centred around Dalgliesh's "new" staff. We've got Inspector Kate Miskin here, who has gone from low class and delapidated housing estate to middle-class, but who can't always let go of the past despite wanting to belong to her new status. She's the most important side-kick in this book, with Tarrant and Benton-Smith as seconds. I'm not sure why I disapprove so much of the new kids on the block. I think I feel it's a bit strained, like James is trying to update the concept but her heart is still with the more classic lone detective genius solving the country house crime? Not that James has ever been that predictable, but she does write sort of in that genre - but well. I think I may just have to re-read a bunch of Jameses and see what the difference is between the books from say the 70s and the ones written now. This one is from 2003. Part of it is probably that she for the sake of realism inserts people that she doesn't (probably) know that much about - homeless people or what have you. I might be unfair, we'll know if I have a binge.

The book starts off with a coincidence - Dalglish is taken to a private museum on the inter-war years, the Dupayne, by a friend. A week later a murder takes place on the premises, and owing to one of the employees having a connection with MI5 it is considered best if Dalgliesh and his special team handles the investigation. We have a narrow set of suspects from the beginning. True to James's style we delve into the minds of all involved, and get just enough hints from the suspects' thoughts to keep us guessing. I wasn't too surprised at who the murderer was, but felt like I had missed some things when she mentions her motive - maybe I wasn't paying attention somewhere, but as it was it felt like loose ends. On the other hand, that's what life is, a bunch of loose ends.

By a coincidence of my own I read this at just about the same time of year as when everything happens in the book. I started reading on Nov. 3 and finished on Nov. 4, and the first victim dies on Nov. 1 in the book. This amused me. Also, in the fictional Murder Room at the museum are displayed real cases from the inter-war years, and snippets of facts from these cases are mentioned, such as that one of the murderers got off largely thanks to a very well-spoken lawyer with a sonorous voice. I think the murder took place in -34. Now, when reading Hare's Tragedy at Law (from 1946) I remember that one of the lawyers is said to have just such a beautiful voice, seducing juries into letting his clients off the hook. I'm thinking that Hare's fictional lawyer is modelled on a very real lawyer then, y'see.

I did like the book, and like I said I might go on a bit of a PD James kick now. She is worth it.

Ariana Franklin: The Serpent's Tale

My sister brought to my attention that although I borrowed and read the second book in the Mistress of the Art of Death series I never blogged about it. The shame. It's been MONTHS. And it's sort of faded on me now, so I'll just do my best. It's set a while after the first one ended, and while Adelia and Rowley were lovers for a bit and have had a daughter, they are now estranged. He has become a bishop and seems to have truly found a calling too, she lives modestly (poorly) in the Fens with her friends.

The king's mistress is murdered with poisonous mushrooms, and Adelia is called in by the king to investigate. The plot turns out to be more convoluted than expected, with a coup staged by the jealous queen imprisoning them in a convent, and their lives being threatened by an assassin. I liked how the mistress lives in a tower surrounded by a maze of thorny bushes - it's a nice little hint at an origin of the Sleeping Beauty story. This may just be embellishing a legend, but I liked it.

I had, frankly, expected to like it less, being a sequel, but it's quite okay. The plot was a little much though, with things happening all over the place. It bothered me, don't know why… I think I got that cynical feeling that the author thought it would look good on film, maybe. I hate that feeling. However, it's great that it's not at all all lovey-dovey between Adelia and Rowley, because that would have been too simple and too obviously some sort of sponge-off Ellis Peters' and her optimistic view of the world. If my sister gets the third one I'll read that too.

Ngaoi Marsh: Tied Up In Tinsel

Fed up with "real literature" I have decided to wallow in crime fiction for a while. Specifically as much vintage as I can get my hands on - I may even re-read some. I was pleased to find a Ngaoi Marsh at the library that I hadn't read, although to be honest I think I must have - the story seems a little familiar. But there were huge chunks that were not, so maybe I haven't? Haven't blogged about it anyway. Although the book is old (written in -72, reprinted -76 by Aeonian Press, a company that seems to have taken pride in a hit-and-miss approach to inking their typewhatsits, the little metal letters like, that you print with. The print is sometimes very blurry) so I should in all fairness have seen it when I had my MASSIVE detective story craze a few years ago, before I started the blog. Although I did just find a new Marsh, a collection of three novels (two of which I've read I might add, typical), so maybe someone has donated some books or something. Not important. Moving on.

Being a late Marsh it has moved with the times - somewhat. We have here a murder in a country house, with a limited number of suspects. But, since this is the seventies, the country house is a delapidated new accquisition by an excentric rich man, who has made his fortune in antiques, and who staffs it cheaply with criminals - murderers - from the nearby prison. Troy is here painting his portrait, and when Alleyn unexpectedly is home for Christmas he arrives just in time for the murder.

Favourite bits:  Marsh has once again inserted a homosexual character, subtly. We even get a little sad taste of the times, possibly it's even social criticism? One of the staff of murderers is descriped like this:

"He actually trained as a chef. He is not," Hilary had told Troy, "one hundred per cent he-man. He was imprisoned under that heading but while serving his sentence attacked a warder who approached him when he was not in the mood."

It's actually very sordid and sad in many ways, but so lightly dealt with. You can't say that this type of literature doesn't teach you loads about the times in which they were written. Our gay chef is later referred to as "that queen in the kitchen" I might add.

I also liked the description of how the rich man's girlfriend behaves and talks. I can't find the spot now, but she makes a "dead set" at Alleyn, much to Troy's amusement, and says something to her along the lines of "Darling! Your husband? The mostest! You know?" which is hilarious.

Not my favourite, but not bad.

James Lasdun: The Horned Man

This is one of the books my cousin sent me, and it is NOT a thriller. Which has sadly prejudiced me against it, because I thought it would be. The back of it is all "oooo a series of brutal killings", "as the novel spirals to its shocking conclusion" and the killings don't even get mentioned until half-way through, and the end shocked no-one.
A first-person narrative, we follow a professor of gender studies, who seems to be followed and set up by a former professor of the college he works at. Our professor Miller seems like a meekish, sane man of sound values, but as the book progresses we get hints that maybe he is not what he wants himself to be, or else he is indeed being hounded. The ending doesn't really clear it up for us. Is Miller mad? It's more Kafka-esque than anything else, with that slightly fantastical, dreamy air. Not really my thing, to be honest, but it was severely marred by my expectations of something more in the linear thriller line. If I'd ever heard about James Lasdun though I mightn't have been surprised.  To do it justice I might have to re-read it in a few years. In general though I'm not mad about this type of story at all.

Tony Parsons: My Favourite Wife

I have friends who really like Tony Parsons, and when I last was at their house I was supposed to borrow a book from them (I was headed to work at the time and needed a read). Naturally I forgot it there and had to do without literature that night, but Tony Parsons lodged in my mind. So I picked this up to try, and it did nothing for me. Even blogging about it is cheating a little, because I haven't read it. I read about six chapters in and then I gave up, just skimmed a little in the middle and read the last two-three chapters. It's about a young family who move to Shanghai so that he can make more money and climb the career ladder, since life in London is too expensive for them and is wearing them down. Things don't work out so perfectly as they had planned, and while the wife is back in England for a while with their daughter he gets friendly with a lonely "second wife" in the same building. And towards the end he has to choose a family.

None of the characters felt flesh and blood to me, none mattered. The words just fell completely flat, even though there's nothing wrong per se with the language. Not very disappointed, more bemused. Don't understand why people read him. I might try another some time, if all other books have been burned or something. Dull dull dull.

Nora Kelly: My Sister's Keeper

I took this out because the cover blurbs compare Kelly to Amanda Cross, whom I love, and because the book looks like this, like someone photocopied it in a cellar somewhere to smuggle into Soviet Russia, except the paper was better. It's not terribly good, but I'm intrigued enough to maybe one day borrow another one of hers. It's too obviously moralistic and - what did that one reviewer say that I happened across on the net... something about dialectics... damn, I should have blogged about it straight away, shouldn't I? Point was that she preaches a message, but the other guy put it better.

The books heroine, Gillian Adams, is a college professor, but there endeth all comparisons to Amanda Cross. She has a position of boss-ness at her department (don't ask me to remember the title, but not dean), and gets caught in the centre of things when a group of feminists want to change old and misogynistic traditions at the university. It's quite obvious who'll die, but less obvious who did it. The plot isn't terrible I suppose. However, it's not very interesting unless you need a crash course in gender studies - actually, it's not even that informative, it just tells you over and over that misogyny is bad and feminism good. Meh, but MAYBE I'll try another one some time.