The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco

The Name of the Rose was one of those books that everyone in my circle seemed to be reading at the same time back in the '80s.  I can't remember the last time a book so caught the collective imagination of my friends and colleagues.  It was with fond recollections of an important time in my life that I decided to re-read the book.

What struck me most upon this time around was the wonderful translation by William Weaver.  Whatever the qualities of the original Italian version, Weaver has managed to produce English prose of the highest order, making the book a delight to read.

The tale itself  centres on a certain Benedictine abbey in Italy in 1327.  Brother William of Baskerville, accompanied by a novice monk named Adso, has come to the abbey on a mission from the Holy Roman Emperor.  William has a well-earned reputation as a learned man and an acute thinker, and he is asked by the abbot to investigate a murder that occurred in the abbey on the previous night.  It is vital for William to solve the mystery in order to preserve the good name of the abbey before an important papal delegation arrives.  If only it were that simple.

The Name of the Rose is part detective novel, part historical novel.  The investigation of the mystery is interspersed with (often lengthy) explanations of ecclesiastical life and church politics as it was in the early 14th century.  The mystery is ingenious; the historical details have the charm of being recounted through the words of the characters as though they were contemporary events - although, at times, the volume of details and the intricacies of the politics can be a little overwhelming.  Regardless of the exact truth of what we are being told - and I'm certainly not a medieval scholar - the reader does come away feeling they have a good idea of what it must have been like to live in that time and at that place, such is the sense of verisimilitude Eco is able to convey through his use of fluent and detailed descriptions and eloquent conversations between the characters.

I enjoyed this book even more the second time around.  Worth the effort.

The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins

The Moonstone is a powerful, inventive and intriguing tale, one that is sure to keep the reader turning the pages.

First published in 1868,  it is, in a way, a precocious post-modern novel in so much as it mixes up novelistic genres.  Simultaneously a detective story, an almost gothic romance and a social critique, it shifts its complexion in a chameleon-like manner in the course of the unfolding events.

A holy gem, the Moonstone, has been stolen from India by a British Army officer and brought back to England.  According the terms of his will, it is to be presented to his niece Rachel Verinder on her next birthday.  And so Rachel receives the diamond, valued at £20,000, but it goes missing on the night of her birthday party.  Suspicion falls on several characters, relationships fracture and death soon follows.

The Moonstone is almost an epistolary novel, being told through extensive written accounts (rather than through letters) by key players in the mystery.  The first half of the novel is told by Gabriel Betteredge, the head servant of the Verinder household.  He introduces us to most of the characters who have a bearing on proceedings.  The second half of the book is told by several other characters, and it contains the solution to the whereabouts of the diamond.

The point of view throughout the book shifts frequently, either because of reported speech or because of a change of narrator.  This adds to the complexity of the tale and the manner in which information is provided to both the characters and the reader.  All are kept on their toes, guessing and second-guessing.

Star Maker by Olaf Stapledon

A strange and yet compelling book.

A London man falls into a trance.  His disembodied spirit flies out into the universe, travelling further and further away from Earth.  He finds another civilisation and discovers that he can cohabit the bodies of certain individuals of the alien species and experience life through their unique set of senses.

He then embarks on further journeys through the cosmos, taking new companions with him from each of the species he encounters.  Their minds combine to make an increasingly greater intelligence as their numbers swell, until they are able to apprehend the mind of the creator of the universe.  What they discover there is disturbing.

Yes, strange and compelling.  Stapledon maps out the evolution of the universe.  At each step along the way we are introduced to new forms of life.  The author is amazingly inventive in the number of varieties he creates, each with its own mode of surviving and reproducing.  The space in which each episode takes place becomes increasingly large, until the action is being played out across the galaxy.  

Stapledon tells his tale in a clinical, dispassionate but eloquent style.  His descriptions are extensive but never unnecessarily so. And there are deep, philosophical underpinnings to the story.  Here is just one example, taken from near the beginning of the book, echoing a thought the Greek philosopher Heraclitus had almost 2,500 years earlier: 

If he saved all the worlds, but tormented just one man, would you forgive him? Or if he was a little harsh only to one stupid child? What has our pain to do with it, or our failure? Star Maker! It is a good word, though we can have no notion of its meaning. Oh, Star Maker, even if you destroy me, I must praise you. Even if you torture my dearest. Even if you torment and waste all your lovely worlds, the little figments of your imagination, yet I must praise you. For if you do so, it must be right. In me it would be wrong, but in you it must be right.

Star Maker is not an easy read, and 'entertaining' is not a word that springs to mind when describing it; but for someone with a philosophical bent, it is food for the mind.

The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

When I was a kid, I liked the old Sherlock Holmes movies featuring Basil Rathbone as Holmes and Nigel Bruce as Dr Watson.  Bruce's Watson always seemed to be something of a dunderhead, but a lovable one.  In the novel The Hound of the Baskervilles, Watson is centre stage and he proves himself to be anything but a dunderhead.

A certain Dr James Mortimer comes to consult Holmes at his Baker St home.  He states that Sir Charles Baskerville, a minor aristocrat, has died from sheer terror on the grounds his Devonshire estate.  He suggests to Holmes that the death could have been caused by the appearance of an enormous phantom hound long associated with the Baskerville estate.  Dr Mortimer is worried that Sir Charles' heir Henry may be in grave danger.  Holmes takes the case but is unable to attend immediately because he is currently involved in solving another case.  He appoints to Watson to go to the Baskerville estate to protect Sir Henry and to conduct preliminary investigations. In Holmes absence, and its a prolonged absence, Watson has to demonstrate his competence as an investigator and protector.

The Hound of the Baskervilles is  both a detective novel and a gothic horror novel.  Much of the  action takes place on the wilds of Dartmoor, where the phantom hound can be heard howling in the mists at night. There are enough clues and red herrings to keep the armchair sleuth guessing, making for an exciting and satisfying reading experience. 

The Girl with a Symphony in Her Fingers by Michael Coney

The Girl with a Symphony in Her Fingers is an odd and angry book.  It has also been published under the title The Jaws that Bite, the Claws that Catch.

The story is set in a future where a large part of the west coast of North America has been destroyed in an event called the Western Seaboard Slide, leaving behind a fragment of land known as The Peninsula.  Traditional pets, such as cats and dogs, are noticeably absent on The Peninsula; instead, people use domesticated fish that can walk on land and breathe air with the aid of a mini-respirator for pets.  

Most disturbingly of all, a draconian penal system offers certain classes of prisoners the opportunity to enter into bondage: in return for a partial remission of their sentence, they agree to be organ and limb donors for their individual sponsors, should the need arise.  It is a voluntary arrangement, and there is good chance that the need for donation will never arise.  It is a gamble many are willing to take.

The plot centres on an eternal triangle between Joe Sagar, a freeman who runs an alien animal pelt business, Carioca Jones, a wealthy has-been movie star, and Joanne Shaw, Carioca's bondswoman.  A sizeable cast of subsidiary characters add complexity to the tale.  Carioca does something  completely legal but particularly abominable, and a chain of events of Shakespearean proportions is set in motion.

The main flaw of the book is that the male protagonist is unlikeable. Carioca is intentionally unlikeable, and both contrast with the gentle and stoic Joanne.  There seems to be a lot of repetition in the tale, but each episode actually lays down the conditions for the satisfying denouement on the final page.  Thematically, the book deals with the ethics of using prisoners as a cheap source of labour, and of a tacitly coercive legal organ and limb donation scheme.

Despite some whimsical sci-fi decorations, the tale is hard-going in some places and seemingly pointless in others; however, if you can get through this (and over the male protagonist), the finale makes it all worthwhile.

The Dosadi Experiment by Frank Herbert

The Dosadi Experiment is a challenge to read but is worth the effort. 

Like its predecessor, Whipping Star, this novel is set in the ConSentiency universe and features Jorj X. McKie as its protagonist.  It can be read as a stand-alone story, although reading them in the order of their publication does aid in understanding the nuances of the tale.

In the far future, humans have moved out into the galaxy and entered into a federation of worlds with several other sentient alien species.  Courtesy of two of these species, instantaneous travel and communication between planets is possible.

McKie, a government agent, learns of a covert experiment being undertaken on the planet Dosadi, location unknown.  His brief is to find Dosadi and uncover its secrets.  What he discovers is a monstrous threat to future of the ConSentiency.

The Dosadi Experiment combines an action thriller with an in-depth exploration of the culture and politics of one of the alien species, the Gowachin. The interplay between these two elements makes the novel a bit of a challenge to comprehend - there are so many details and concepts to keep in mind - but perseverance pays dividends in the end.  Thematically, there are echoes between the ethics of the experiment on Dosadi and of the Nazi experiments on humans during the Second World War.

Herbert is a natural storyteller. His combination of complex ideas and narrative tension make for a compelling and worthwhile reading experience.

John Burnet of Barns by John Buchan

Get ready to swash your buckle, because John Buchan is taking us back to 17th century Scotland.

Set during the final years of the reign of James VII of Scotland (James II of England), most of the action takes place in the valleys of the rivers Tweed and Clyde.  The tale is about two noble cousins feuding over pride and a pretty girl.

Buchan is hardly breaking new ground, as this story has strong echoes of R.D. Blackmore's Lorna Doone, a far superior work. It may be, this being only his second novel,  Buchan was still finding his feet as an author.  Be that as it may, what he did possess even at this early stage of his career was a fluent and effortless talent for describing the natural world - something I have always admired about his writing. 

There is plenty of action and plenty of climaxes too, but it did get a bit repetitious.  The characterisation is a bit black and white, but what would a historical romance be without some melodrama?  The manservant Nicol  is likeable and wily whereas his master John Burnet is raw and headstrong, and the baddie is cunning and most certainly dangerous.

Not the best book in the world.  I enjoyed reading it despite its flaws.  If you want some period derring-do in the Scottish lowlands, John Burnet of Barns will provide.

The Martian (2015) Starring Matt Damon

What an enjoyable and engaging movie.  It manages to achieve that most difficult of knacks: to make you care about the characters.

Something happens on Mars, and an American scientific expedition have to hurriedly blast-off from the planet, leaving behind one their number, presumed dead.  But he (Damon) isn't dead, and he is faced with the dilemma of how to stay alive alone on Mars with the barest of hopes that those back on Earth will realise the truth and mount a rescue mission.  But time is against him: it will be at least four years before a spacecraft can get from Earth to Mars.

The action divides itself between Damon on Mars, the administrative and scientific folk back on Earth, and the homeward bound team on the spaceship.  Problems are defined, solutions are proposed, developments aid or thwart resolution.  A gripping tension is maintained throughout the film, but it nicely counterpointed with warm and welcome doses of humour.

All the actors contribute stalwart performances, aided by an intelligent script (Drew Goddard) and skillful directing (Ridley Scott).  Matt Damon is solid as the Martian Robinson Crusoe, and he delivers a believable portrayal of a complex and resourceful man dealing with an intolerable situation.  Also of note is Michael Peña, who delivers another likeable performance (we have seen him before in Ant-Man), this time as Damon's verbal sparring partner.

Well worth the time and money.

My Man Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse

I discovered P.G. Wodehouse in my late teens.  It was a happy encounter.

Wodehouse's writing is a triumph of levity over gravity.  That is about the most profound thing about his works - the rest is entertaining fluff.  But what fabulous entertaining fluff it is.

If Wodehouse is remembered for anything, it is for his Wooster and Jeeves stories.  My Man Jeeves contains eight short stories, four of which feature Bertie Wooster and his valet Jeeves (the other four feature Reggie Pepper).  These are the earliest of the Wooster and Jeeves stories.  

Bertie is a man of independent means but with little commonsense.  He spends most of his time thinking about betting on horses and buying clothes.  Jeeves, on the other hand, has oceans of commonsense as well as vast reservoirs of experience and an impeccable sartorial taste.  The tales are usually about how Jeeves rescues Bertie from preposterous social situations, bad gambling decisions and fashion faux pas.  And that is about as deep as it gets.

The obvious joy about reading the Wooster and Jeeves stories is discovering how Bertie is dropped into trouble (and trouble, it seems, comes looking for him) and how Jeeves extricates him from it.  There is always a happy ending, and Bertie is always grateful for Jeeves' help.  A subtler joy is Wodehouse's lightness of touch.  Bertie, who is usually the narrator, tells his tales in the breeziest of manners.  His choice of phrase is a delight - for example, he describes an empty-headed friend as "unclouded".  As a result, the pages just roll by.

Entertaining, surprising and always comical, Wodehouse is a must read.

Whipping Star by Frank Herbert

Welcome to the worlds of the ConSentiency.  

In the far-flung future, humans and number of other sentient species have created a galaxy-spanning democracy. Citizens can travel instantaneously from planet to planet through jumpdoors, a technology provided by mysterious entities called Calebans.

The ConSentiency is so efficient at passing laws that a special force called the Bureau of Sabotage (BuSab) has been created to throw spanners in the legislative machinery to slow it down - for everyone's sake.  Jorj X. McKie is a Saboteur Extraordinary - one of BuSab's elite operatives.

But something is happening to the Calebans.  They are disappearing one by one, and each disappearance is accompanied by millions of deaths and cases of spontaneous insanity among the citizenry of the ConSentiency.  Now there is only one Caleban left, and it is being slowly tortured to death.  If it dies, it could mean the death of billions throughout the galaxy.  It is up to Jorj X. McKie to rescue the Caleban, but his hands are tied by the constraints of the law.  Can the Saboteur Extraordinary find the loopholes he needs to save the day?

Frank Herbert has a knack for creating believable fictional worlds and taking their internal logic to dizzying extremes.  In Whipping Star, we have interaction between humans and numerous sentient species.  They share similar psychologies, but each one has its own emphases.  As a result, the interplay between the various characters has to accommodate their differences whilst furthering the plot.  In particular, McKie has to decipher the utterly alien modes of thought of the last Caleban in order to save it.  Likewise, he has to deal with one or two psychotic bad guys.  In addition, there is the bureaucracy and its laws to contend with, and Herbert uses their complexities to add an additional layer of intrigue and frustration to the tale.

Whipping Star is a sci-fi ripping yarn: it is full of action, techno-babble and psycho-babble.  As is usual with Herbert, this book has its fair share of 'generous mouths' and characters 'swallowing in a dry throat'.  But it is all done with gusto.  If you want something that takes you out of yourself and gives your imagination a good workout, you can do a lot worse than spending time with Frank Herbert.

The Shepherd's Crown by Terry Pratchett

How sad, and how glad.  The Shepherd's Crown is the latest and last novel from the very great Terry Pratchett.  While it is not his best, finest or funniest creation, it may be his wisest, and that makes it a fitting finale.

The fifth novel in the Tiffany Aching series for young adults, The Shepherd's Crown begins by recapitulating the device of the first Granny Weatherwax book, Equal Rites (1987), and turning it on its head: this time a boy wants to become a witch.  Then something  big happens, and the walls separating the worlds weaken sufficiently so that an old enemy is able to enter from the other side.  It is up to Tiffany Aching and all the friends she can make and muster to save the world one more time.

Unlike in his Discworld novels for adults, Pratchett states his themes out loud rather than through the use of satire and parody: leave the world a better place than you found it; be kind to others, especially those worse off than yourself - it is good for you; make friends where you can; do not kill without need; believe that redemption is possible, even for the worst of us; and remember that there is no place like home.  This is magic indeed, and it is everywhere you go (if you take it with you).

In the end, Terry Pratchett has left us with a consolation rather than a conclusion.  There are loose ends, to be sure, and what happens to his characters is now left for us to imagine: the witches, the wizards, the City Watch, the Librarian, Death, and the cavalcade of minor-but-memorable characters - good and bad - that accompanied them.

Farewell, Terry Pratchett, and thank you.  You made my world a better place.  And, yes, I like cats.

Catch-22 by Joseph Heller

I recently came across an interview featuring Kurt Vonnegut in which he stated that the novel Catch-22 is based on Homer's The Odyssey.  This piqued my interest: if Vonnegut is correct, then it was something I missed in my original reading of the novel.  So I re-read it, and Vonnegut is right.

The action is set in the Mediterranean basin, mainly on the island of Pianosa (Odysseus - or Ulysses - visits many islands in the Mediterranean).  Captain John Yossarian (Odysseus) is a soldier trying to get home from the war.  He is prevented from doing so by the orders of his wrathful superior officer, Colonel Cathcart (Poseidon).  One by one almost all of Yossarian's comrades die (as did Odysseus' crew).  At one point, Yossarian even likens himself to Ulysses; and like Odysseus, he sustains a wound to his thigh.  So there it is: The Odyssey, this time set in 1943 during the Second World War.

But Catch-22 is so much more than The Odyssey. On one level it is about how humans stay sane or succumb to insanity in an insane situation:

Men went mad and were rewarded with medals.  All over the world, boys on every side of the bomb line were laying down their lives for what they had been told was their country, and no one seemed to mind, least of all the boys who were laying down their young lives.

On another level it about self-serving bureaucracy and the abuse of power:

You have no respect for excessive authority or obsolete traditions. You're dangerous and depraved, and you ought to be taken outside and shot!

Of course, there is the title of the book: Catch-22.  This phrase was invented by Heller to describe and give a raison d'etre to the logical double binds found throughout the book.  The central Catch-22 of the novel runs like this:

1. Regulations say a military doctor must ground anyone who is crazy and asks to be grounded.
2. Only a crazy person would voluntarily continue to fly on highly dangerous bombing missions; and being crazy, they would never ask.
3. Only a sane person would make the request, and so cannot be grounded.
4. Therefore, both the sane and the insane, if so ordered, must continue to fly.

And this is exactly the position the sane Yossarian finds himself in: he must continue to fly or, otherwise, disobey Colonel Cathcart's orders.  Both options could lead to his death.

I was a teenager when I first read Catch-22.  I remembered it as a quirky and comical tale I enjoyed greatly.  On re-reading it, I found it at turns puerile and profound, or frustrating but compelling. I suppose that is also true of war (and bureaucracies) as a lived experience.  There is a lot in this book to offend modern feminist sensibilities; but it was written in a time different from our own and describes an even different time: total war, with its concomitant brutalities. On the other hand, there is also the tenderness that is to be found in life's little acts, such as Yossarian's poignantly impotent 'There, there' as he nurses his injured comrade Snowden.

Catch-22 is one of the great books: dangerous and depraved, sane and crazy, comical and serious, crushing and elevating, and well worth reading.  Thank you, Joseph Heller.

Moving Pictures by Terry Pratchett

Moving Pictures is the 10th novel in the Discworld series, and this time Terry Pratchett has Hollywood in his satirical crosshairs.

The ancient hill of Holy Wood has lost its last guardian, and something within it begins to stir and  call out to the world.  Meanwhile, the alchemists of the city of Ankh-Morpork have developed a process for creating moving pictures.  Almost immediately, entrepreneurs and wannabe stars hear the call, and the action moves from the city to Holy Wood.  But Holy Wood has more magic than just that of the silver screen.  Who can tell what danger it will pose to the inhabitants of the Disc?

As is usual with Discworld novels, Moving Pictures has several plots running simultaneously.  The main one features Victor Tugelbend, a student wizard who does anything but wizardry, and Theda Withal, a country lass who has come to hit the big time.  They soon become the new stars of Holy Wood.  Also hoping to hit the big time, in this case as a producer, is the failed-but-ever-hopeful Ankh-Morpork small businessman Cut Me Own Throat Dibbler.  Throw in a talking dog and a librarian who is in fact an orangutan, and you have the basis for a lot of fun.

Moving Pictures is more than liberally sprinkled with references to Hollywood: Gone with Wind, Casablanca, Sam Goldwyn, Marlene Dietrich, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, to name a few.  All is done with great intelligence and sparkling wit, and the episode featuring the Librarian and the Tower of Art is absolutely side-splitting.

Not the deepest of the Discworld novels, nor its best, Moving Pictures is definitely good for more than a giggle.

Persuasion by Jane Austen

There is something oddly comforting about re-reading a book, so it an interesting exercise to revisit a book one disliked on first reading. I was 18 and a student when I was conscripted into reading Persuasion, and I grudged every minute of it.  Talk about hammering a square peg into a round hole, I was entirely the wrong shape for receiving whatever it was Jane Austen had to say.  Things change, including me - thank goodness - and I thoroughly enjoyed re-reading Persuasion. 

How relevant it is that I gave this book another whirl, because it about second chances - in this case, a second chance for two characters to find true love. 

Sir Walter Eliot - a baronet, the lowest rank of the British aristocracy - is a widower with three daughters.  Elizabeth, the eldest, is a true beauty; Mary, the youngest, is safely married; but Anne, the unmarried middle child, has lost the bloom of youth.  As a result, Anne's prospects are very uncertain.  Not that this was always the case.  Eight years earlier, when Anne was in the full blush of youth, she was in love with, and was loved by, one Mr Frederick Wentworth, a commoner; however, Anne was persuaded by her father and Lady Russell, a family friend, to discontinue the romance on the grounds of social incompatibility.  But now Frederick has returned with a substantial fortune behind him.  Is there a chance of the romance being rekindled, or will other eligible suitors win Anne's hand, if not her heart?

Persuasion is set just after the end of the Napoleonic Wars.  Austen contrasts the prejudices and petty spites of the minor aristocracy with the goodwill and fellowship of the returning admirals and captains.  The interplay of these two groups provides the ground for the action of the novel.  Caught between them is Anne Eliot, mostly alone and without a settled home.  It is of interest to the reader observe how (and if) Anne rises to meet the challenges facing her. 

Austen has a fine talent for setting the stage for her tales and filling them with memorable characters.  In Persuasion some are little better than caricatures, but the central actors are well drawn and have an emotional depth to them.  The action builds slowly but surely, but there is never any great danger.  The tale is more comfortable than challenging, and yet is also engaging, even compelling.  That is, if you are the right shape for it.

Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey

In the little two-horse town where I grew up there was a general store.  It had twin doors at the front.  The keeper opened these every morning and lined the little built-in shelves with cheap paperback novels.  You had two choices: romances or westerns.

I always passed up the chance to buy either - romances and westerns are generally not appealing to my tastes. Well, I finally bit the bullet and read a Zane Grey novel.  Did I enjoy it?  I reckon I surely did, y'all.  I liked it a lot.  All up, Riders of the Purple Sage is a real surprise package.

The story is simple enough.  The year is 1871, and the setting is southern Utah.  Jane Withersteen has inherited a substantial, well-watered cattle ranch.  She is single, rich and a Mormon.  Unlike her brethren, Jane has no qualms about hiring and befriending 'gentiles', as non-Mormons are called in the book.  This puts her at odds with elements within the Mormon community, especially those who are interested in winning her hand in marriage.  A campaign of attrition is waged against Jane to bring her to heel, and her cattle and horses are rustled in large numbers.  Standing by her side are two gentiles: Bern Venters, a hired hand, and Jim Lassiter.  Lassiter is a new-comer with a dread reputation as a deadly gunslinger.  Can these two help Jane recover her stock and keep her homestead?  The answer may surprise you.

The first notable thing about Riders of the Purple Sage is Zane Grey's facility for nature writing.  The weather and the landscape are almost characters in this tale, and they are never far away from the main action.  It is easy to write about nature, but it is very hard to do it well.  Tolkien and John Buchan are masters at it, and Grey can hold his own in this department.  He is a bit more prolix than either Tolkien or Buchan, but he particularly adept at imbuing his descriptions with the dynamism found in nature itself.

Then there is the smouldering-but-understated sexual tension. It's there, there's lots of it, and it runs throughout the book.  It blossoms into love, sometimes in unexpected places and for unexpected reasons, and has unforeseen consequences all round.  A brutal heart is counterpointed with its capacity for tenderness.

The story pivots around Jane Withersteen, and she is the most finely drawn character in the book.  She has to contend with the conflicts between the outward demands of  her religion and the inward demands of her personal faith, and between her common-sense and her emotions.  Sometimes Grey expresses  old-fashioned attitudes (the book was published in 1912), but for the most part Jane Withersteen would not be out of place in the modern world.

Finally, there is the action.  Riders of the Purple Sage does have a lot of action, but it is heavily punctuated with lengthy periods of introspection.  Psychology is just as important to the story as guns and horses.  What gun violence there is happens mostly out of sight, and more is made of the characters' attitude to weapons and the circumstances under which they are used.  There are a couple of thrilling chase sequences, and the nobility of the horses is brought to the fore in rather a stirring way.  One can't help but love Venters' horse Wrangle.

Yes, Riders of the Purple Sage is a surprise package worth opening.

The Turn of the Screw by Henry James

Have you ever met someone who mistakes their beliefs for truths?  Someone who doesn't understand that just saying something doesn't make it true?

But, what if?  What if such a person's beliefs and words, however improbable, are actually an accurate perception and account of an 'objective' reality? 

The challenge for any reader of The Turn of the Screw is to work out whether the main narrator's tale is one of delusion or verisimilitude. 

For one reason or another, a group of friends meet to hear a ghastly-but-true tale read to them by Douglas, one of their number.  The author of the tale, a now deceased friend of Douglas, claims the events described happened to her.  Twenty year earlier she had obtained work as the governess of two young orphan children, Miles and Flora.  Their uncle, who has custody of them, hands care for the children over to the governess and then promptly steps out of the picture.  Then the ghosts turn up.

So now we have the bones of a gothic horror story:  a big rambling house on a large, remote country estate, inhabited only by a handful of characters - the governess, the children and the housekeeper Mrs Grose. Oh, and the ghosts.   And there are dark secrets aplenty.

What is then left to discern is whether the events described can be attributed to a supernatural cause or to a more mundane one.  Henry James has been quite skillful in the weaving of this tale.  There are enough clues and enough loose threads to keep the reader guessing right up until the end. 

The Black Arrow by Robert Louis Stevenson

The Black Arrow is not in the league of other Stevenson classics like Treasure Island or Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde, but it is an enjoyable and exciting tale set in mediaeval England, and it kinda makes you want to be a kid again.

I had four blak arrows under my belt, 

Four for the greefs that I have felt, 

Four for the nomber of ill menne 

That have opressid me now and then.

Thus runs the opening stanza from a poem of warning written by one John Amend-all of the Greenwood.  

It is May 1460, and the conflict between the Houses of York and Lancaster that we now call the War of the Roses has been raging for five years.  Young Richard Shelton finds himself caught up first in the feud between John Amend-all and his oppressors, and later in the broader war.  Richard is a callow teenager beginning to make his way in the world, not sure who he should trust and who he should doubt.  He finds both loyalty and treachery in the most unexpected places.  Richard has to grow up - and grow up fast - if he is to survive and flourish in an uncertain and dangerous world.  Will Richard's pragmatism and natural charm be enough for him to overcome the obstacles that lie between him, his patrimony and his true love?

Robert Louis Stevenson stated that The Black Arrow was the only one of his novels that he could not bring himself to read.  It was first published in serial form in 1883 in a monthly publication for boys and girls called Young Folks.  Stevenson was under pressure to have two chapters ready for publication every month, and had to write to a formula.  

These circumstances no doubt contributed to the uneven quality of the structure of the novel, which is probably what Stevenson disliked about it; however, the high quality of the style of writing cannot be doubted.  Stevenson has given us a fast-paced tale of intrigue and derring-do.  The hero is likeable, his colleagues steadfast and entertaining, and his enemies subtle and underhanded. What more could you want from an adventure story?

Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett

Yea, the king will come bringing Law and Justice, and know nothing but the Truth, and Protect and Serve the People with his Sword. - Old Discworld Prophecy

Be careful what you wish for.

The eighth installment of the Discworld series is set in the ancient city of Ankh-Morpork.  It has been centuries since the city had a monarch, being ruled currently by a Patrician, Lord Vetinari, a tyrant in all but name.  A certain secret society is unhappy with this state of affairs and they hatch a plan to take control of the city by setting up a puppet king.  But they get much more than they bargained for.

Taking riffs from the film noir and noir literature genres, plod-police shows and combining it with Discworld magic, Pratchett provides us with a gumshoe/police mystery.  In doing so, and in the first of the Night Watch novels, he introduces the utterly memorable characters of Sam Vimes, Fred Colon, Nobby Nobbs, Carrot, Lady Sybil Ramkin and C.M.O.T Dibbler.

Thematically, Guards! Guards! is about human nature and the tendency of ordinary folk to allow evil to flourish through inaction and fear, rather than through intrinsic malice.  It also explores the phenomenon of humans abdicating their moral responsibility en masse to those in supposed positions of authority.

Of course, Pratchett's genius (apart from character creation) lies in his ability to take a serious theme and leaven it with sparkling humour - and there is a lot of humour in this novel - to make it more palatable, provoking thought and laughter at the same time.  A rare talent, indeed, and one to be all the more relished for both its rarity and its acuity.

Ant-Man (2015)

Take one action hero movie, make it family-friendly, stir in a good ensemble cast with a liberal splash of humour, watch for two hours.  Result: a satisfying and enjoyable experience.

I was wondering how Marvel was going to pull this one off, with Ant-man being one of their more, um, tangential superheroes - you know, a guy who can make himself really small.  Doesn't sound great compared to a god of thunder or a man in a flying suit of armor, but I think Marvel did a great job in making this movie one where the suspension of disbelief was a pleasure rather than a duty.

Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) has just served three years in prison for a white collar crime.  His estranged wife tells him: no access to their daughter until he gets a job and an apartment.  This is no easy task for an ex-jailbird.  And then fate dangles an illicit job in front of his nose.  It could be the solution to all his problems.  Instead, it back-fires and Scott winds up on the run from the law.  His only assets: a super costume that allows him to become really small, and a dubious new relationship with Dr Hank Pym (Michael Douglas), the suit's creator.  And then the fun begins.

The movie starts by showcasing the best special effect to date: they made Michael Douglas look thirty years old again.  We're not talking about some Photoshopped snaps in a family album.  No, we're talking about the man walking about and acting.  Uncanny.  You would swear the guy had just come from the set of The Streets of San Francisco.  This is not to say that this movie is a special effects one-trick pony.  No, the fight sequences involve some pretty impressive work, too.  And then there are the ants.  Lots of them.  Great work all round.

The movie casting was spot-on.  Paul Rudd is suited perfectly [pun-intended] to his dad-down-on-his-luck-cum-accidental-superhero role.  Corey Stoll is impressive and imposing as the deranged bad-guy.  Evangeline Lilly is a thwarted but still kick-ass female lead.  Michael Douglas plays a pivotal but nicely understated role throughout the proceedings.  But keep your eye on Michael Peña in the role of best-friend Luis: his is a wonderful comic performance.

There really is a lot in this movie to be pleased about: visual and verbal gags abound, the action is pacy and never weighed down by the mandatory passages of exposition, the performances are fine and the special effects are WOW!

Go see it.  Worth the price of admission.

The Stars My Destination by Alfred Bester

Gully Foyle is my name

And Terra is my nation

Deep space is my dwelling place

The stars my destination

The Stars My Destination (or Tiger! Tiger! in the United Kingdom) has been labelled a science fiction classic.  If you want a rollicking, high-risk, high-damage, high-gain adventure in the far future, this is the book for you.  If tenderness is your thing, look elsewhere.

In the 25th century, humanity has spread out into the solar system.  Two power blocs have arisen: the Inner Planets and the Outer Satellites. In addition to this, human have discovered "jaunting" - the innate ability to travel instantaneously from one destination to another, given the right circumstances.  An individual can cover several hundred miles in a single jaunte, making it possible to travel swiftly to any destination on the planet in several stages.

The wrecked freighter Nomad floats helplessly in the no man's land of the asteroid belt.  Its sole survivor is Gulliver (Gully) Foyle.  Foyle "lives" in a pressurized closet not much bigger than a coffin, making the occasional dangerous foray to other parts of the ship to get food, water and oxygen.  Six months after Foyle first became marooned, the spaceship Vorga passes the Nomad, ignoring the distress flares Foyle sent up.  He snaps psychologically and vows to dedicate his life to the destruction of the Vorga.  One way or another, Foyle makes it back to Earth and begins his quest for revenge, and it takes him to places he never could have imagined.

The Stars My Destination is certainly a powerful statement about a monomania for vengeance.  Gully Foyle is a memorable character - not only for his monomania, but also for the several transformations he undergoes in the course of the novel.  Through following Foyle's quest, we also learn about the intrigues of 25th century corporations and the ramifications of war between belligerent power blocs that straddle the solar system.  

Alfred Bester has done a wonderful job of creating a futuristic world for Gully Foyle to operate in.  The settings and power structures are constructed in a credible manner, and the use of human cyber-enhancements is visionary.  The twists and turns keep the reader on his/her toes, and the action sequences are fast and breathtaking.  There is a lot of violence, shown and implied, which is perfectly apt given Foyle's nature.  Alas, it all comes undone when Bester tries to tackle love and intimacy.  It takes more than a "But I love you" to do it, I am afraid.

Still, this book is what it is.  I enjoyed it, but I was glad when it was all over.  It certainly was a work-out.

Bluebeard by Kurt Vonnegut

I am happy and sad.  Happy because I had not read this novel before.  Sad  because, now I have finished it, I have read all of Kurt Vonnegut's novels.  They ain't making them like that anymore.  *Sigh*

Bluebeard is subtitled The Autobiography of Rabo Karabekian. It is the story of a one-eyed man (one-eyed both physically and metaphorically). We have met Karabekian before in Breakfast of Champions and tangentially in Deadeye Dick.  As with quite a few Vonnegut novels, this tale starts near the end of the narrative timeline.  The story then alternates between the present and the past.  As is also the case with other Vonnegut novels, this is also an inter-generational tale.

Rabo Karabekian is the child of two survivors of the Armenian "genocide" in Turkey during the First World War.  The elder Karabekians make their way to California via Egypt, having lost a fortune on the way, and start a family.  Later, Rabo shows some talent as an artist and, through a convoluted sub-plot, becomes apprenticed to America's foremost illustrator.  It is a hard and bitter apprenticeship, and finally Rabo eschews realism, preferring to specialise in abstract expressionism.  For one reason or another, he becomes a successful artist and a wealthy man.  Despite this, Rabo is haunted by regret, bitterness and disillusionment.  And then a certain person comes into his life ...

Thematically, Bluebeard is about the artificial extended families most of us manage to cobble together in the course of our lives.  Rabo says:

My parents were born into biological families, and big ones, too, which were respected by Armenians in Turkey.  I, born in America far from any other Armenians, save for my parents, eventually became a member of two artificial extended families which were reasonably respectable, although surely not the social equals of Harvard or Yale:
1. The Officer Corps of the Unites States Army in time or war,
2.the Abstract Expressionist school of painting after the war.

Of course, Rabo is not exactly correct in his generalisations: he also belongs to a little group of friends, with a kind of rotating membership, that is very important and influential in his life.

Vonnegut's characters are always deeply flawed, each in their own particular way.  There is is hope and despondency, rancor and good will, and yet each individual seems to contribute positively to the synergy of the group, producing unexpected outcomes in many cases.

Vonnegut meticulously builds up the layers of his tale, adding twists and turns that surprise or shock the reader. The dialogue is crisp and sharp, enhancing the insights into character and motivation already provided by the narrator. The alternation of narrative between the past and the present keeps the story rolling along while providing welcome respite.

Bluebeard is a reference to the Perrault fairytale about the one forbidden thing.  Apart from giving the book its title, it also provides Vonnegut with a device and a metaphor that runs throughout the novel.

I am  glad I read Bluebeard, and that I left it for last. Despite its dose of existential pessimism (and which of Vonnegut's tales doesn't contain it?), Bluebeard was hopeful enough and well-written enough to provide a pleasing full stop (for now) to my career as an amateur imbiber of Vonnegut novels.

Pyramids by Terry Pratchett

Cast your mind back to the late seventies and early eighties.  Remember when pyramids were all the rage?  Claims were made about their ability to keep razors sharp or to aid in personal physical rejuvenation.  Nonsense, perhaps, but there were people who truly believed in this stuff.  Maybe they still do.  Terry Pratchett used this phenomenon as the slender basis for the seventh novel in the Discworld series.

In this book, pyramids every bit as impressive as those of Egypt line the river of the desert kingdom of Djelibeybi.  Yes, they can put a sharp edge on anything, including rolling pins (or so it is written), but their main power is to take time from the future and flare it off harmlessly into the atmosphere in the present.  As a result, nothing has really changed in Djelibeybi for almost 7000 years, and there are people who want to keep it way.

Teppic, the son of king Pteppicyon XXVII, makes the extraordinary decision to acquire a trade in the world outside of the kingdom.  When Teppic returns from his apprenticeship seven years later he becomes the pebble that starts an avalanche of change.  What will become of Djelibeybi and its ancient culture? Whatever happens, it will probably have something to do with quantum.

Pyramids is an enjoyable book. While it lacks the memorable characters of the other Discworld novels, its structure is noteworthy.  There are multiple story lines running throughout the book.  These branch, intertwine, merge and branch again.  Pratchett frequently interrupts the main story with digressions to the numerous sub-plots, and here we meet more than a few minor players.  The reader has the opportunity to engage with these characters more thoroughly than they would in a strictly linear narrative; as a result, the story has a charming depth and diversity.

While it is not amongst the best of the Discworld novels, Pyramids is subtly comical and is sure to provide a satisfying reading experience.

The Man Who Knew Too Much by G.K. Chesterton

The Man Who Knew Too Much is an entertaining and surprising collection of stories - surprising because ... well, you will just have to read the book to find out why.  Let's just say it will challenge your notions of justice.

Horne Fisher is an accidental sleuth.  Possessing a razor-sharp intellect, Fisher is able to solve the numerous murder mysteries he happens upon in the course of his life.  He does this through acute observation, deductive logic and by drawing on his intimate knowledge of the intrigues of politics at the highest levels.  You see, Fisher is related to, or acquainted with, many powerful men, including the British Prime Minister, various cabinet members and those who attend them, and is aware of much of their dirty laundry.  This knowledge is a source of some pain and anguish to Fisher, and he calls himself "The Man Who Knows Too Much" because of it.

In the first tale in this collection of eight short stories, the reader meets a young and green journalist called Harold March.  During a ramble in the countryside, March makes the acquaintance of Fisher.  The two then witness an automobile accident, and so begins the first of the mysteries with which they will be involved in one capacity or another.  March plays little part in the adventures beyond being an incidental amanuensis to Fisher or an unwitting contributor to the solution of some of the mysteries.

The stories are set shortly after the First World War, and many of them involve political intrigues involving several northern European countries.  Chesterton intimates that another war is immanent.  In this he was correct but about fifteen years out in his reckoning - Chesterton died in 1936 and did not witness the Second World War.

Even though the stories are specific to their time, they are general enough to have a kind of timeless quality and be read with some satisfaction by a 21st century reader.  One story is jarring to modern sensibilities: the supposed true villains of the plot are the Jewish bankers of the time.  They are described in a very derogatory manner, and one wonders if this reflects Chesterton's own view or only that of his character.

If you like mysteries, The Man Who Knew Too Much is sure to satisfy.

Something Rotten by Jasper Fforde

Something Rotten is the fourth and final installment in the first series of Thursday Next novels. 

Readers of Fforde will be know this series takes place in an alternative reality that looks an awful lot like our own, except:  the year is 1985, there are vampires, werewolves and all manner of other supernatural beasties, and some people have extraordinary powers - such as the ability to travel through time or to enter into the fictional realities inside books.  In the previous book, The Well of Lost Plots, Thursday went into hiding inside a trashy novel called Caversham Heights.  

It is now over two years later:  Thursday has given birth to and started rearing a son, fathered by her now absent husband  Landen.  She decides it is time to come back to the real world and recover what she can of her old life.  If only it were that simple.  Old enemies resurface in new ways, and Armageddon may be just around the corner.  Can a croquet match really save the world from destruction?

Something Rotten is a much better book than its two predecessors.  The plot is well-constructed, the narrative is pacy throughout, with quite a few twists and turns to keep the reader interested and attentive.  Fforde adds extra life to the proceedings with wit and humor, and there is more than a few laughs to be had. 

I you haven't read anything by Jasper Fforde, I recommend The Eyre Affair, the first book in the series.  It can be read as a stand-alone novel; but once you have the taste, you may well want to consume more.  If The Eyre Affair is the tantalising entrée, then Something Rotten is the satisfying dessert.

A Study in Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

A Study in Scarlet (1887) marks the first appearance in print of the now famous consulting detective Sherlock Holmes and his friend Dr John Watson.  Of course, we are now very familiar with Holmes and Watson, so it was interesting to read the book that introduced them to the world.

Dr Watson, recently returned to London after serving with the British Army in Afghanistan, is looking for somewhere to stay.  Through a mutual friend, he meets Sherlock Holmes and the two agree to rent an apartment together - the famous 221B Baker Street - in order to share costs.

Holmes and Watson soon become involved in a murder inquiry.  A dead man has been found in an abandoned building.  There is no mark on the body and the word RACHE has been written in blood on a wall in the room.  Holmes is immediately able to give a specific description of the murderer, including his height, complexion, shoes and manicure.  Holmes decides to set a bait to draw the murderer out of hiding, and then ...

A Study in Scarlet is an interesting enough book, but it certainly has its flaws.  The prose is compelling and lively, although the structure of the book is problematic.  A lengthy digression in which Holmes and Watson play no part consumes a lot of the reader's time before the solution to the crime is revealed.  As a result, there is a missed opportunity for character development of the two people we want to care about and to know better.  Also, the depiction of a certain religion is highly contentious and could be upsetting to some readers.

Not the best book in the world, and not the worst.  Worth reading for its significance in terms of popular culture, and not a bad way to spend a quiet afternoon.

P.S.  Once again I was unable to solve the crime before Holmes did.

Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut

Live by the foma [harmless untruths] that make you brave and kind and healthy and happy.

The Books of Bokonon. I: 5

Kurt Vonnegut thought Cat's Cradle was one of his best novels, and I have to agree with him.  It is a tragicomedy of the first rank, and even more than fifty years after its first publication (1963), it is still a relevant and powerful document.

Cat's Cradle is narrated by Jonah (we never do find out his last name).  Jonah is intending to write a book about the day the atom bomb was dropped on Hiroshima.  His research puts him in contact with the children of Felix Hoenikker, the (fictional) father of the A-bomb, and this leads him to the tiny (fictional) Caribbean island of San Lorenzo.  Here he finds and adopts a new religion, Bokononism,  meets lots of interesting people, becomes love-struck and then witnesses, um, something big - something very, very big.

Cat's Cradle is a retrospective narrative.  Jonah tells us early on in the novel that he is a convert to Bokononism, a religion founded in San Lorenzo by Bokonon, and he uses some of its theological terms to impart a metaphysical relevance to his tale. Bokononism is a fatalist religion and, therefore, a sufficiently discriminating practitioner will be able to see God's hand in even the smallest details of his/her life.  For example, when Jonah's cab driver suggests they make a detour during their trip, Jonah quotes from the Books of Bokonon: “Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God.”

Of course, Cat's Cradle isn't really about a fictional religion.  It is a satire on the human condition in general (especially in relation to science, religion, history and politics), and the state of world affairs as it was in the early sixties.  As one would expect, the Cold War figures in the narrative, as does U.S. imperialism in the Caribbean, exploitative capitalists and well-meaning individuals.  Vonnegut also investigates the ethical implications of scientific research and the ways in which its discoveries and technologies are used by others.  On any of these points Vonnegut is both hopeful and bleak.

If you are worried about the current goings-on in the Ukraine or the Spratly Islands, or even in the environment in general, then Cat's Cradle may be the book to make you laugh and cry at the same time.  Challenging, entertaining, seemingly effortless and highly recommended.

P.S.  Regarding Chapter 125 on Tasmanian Aboriginals, Vonnegut says: "And the aborigines found life so unattractive that they gave up reproducing."  He got this wrong.  I am glad to say the Aboriginal Community in Tasmania is strong, proud and still here.

Wyrd Sisters by Terry Pratchett

Welcome to the kingdom of Lancre, a mountainous realm more vertical than horizontal, a naturally magical domain that is the home of witches and the birthplace of wizards.  We've been here before but only briefly, in Equal Rites, when we visited the village of Bad Ass and met Granny Weatherwax, its resident witch.

Things get fleshed-out in the Wyrd Sisters: the village is now part of a kingdom, and the kingdom has a name and a history.  Alas, it has no legitimate king, for King Verence has been murdered by his cousin Duke Felmet (at the instigation of  Felmet's foreign wife), who then usurps the throne.  Understandably, Verence (or more correctly, Verence's ghost - who has been unfleshed-out) is upset by this, but so is something else - something big and powerful.  There is going to be trouble unless high-order action is taken.  And that duty falls to Granny Weatherwax and her two fellow witches, Nanny Ogg and Magrat Garlick.

Wyrd Sisters is the sixth Discworld novel, and the second to feature Granny Weatherwax.  Pratchett borrows riffs from Shakespeare's Macbeth and Hamlet in constructing his tale of witches, ghosts, usurpation and plays.  He deftly turns many of these tropes on their heads or bends them at right-angles, with surprising and often hilarious effect. Thematically, the book explores the power of words to shape perceived reality, and the corrupting influence of power - especially power held without public purpose.

Pratchett's ability to create memorable literary characters rivals that of Dickens.  In Wyrd Sisters, he further develops the character of Granny - this time as the first among the witches of Lancre.  But he also introduces the ebullient Nanny Ogg, a witch no less capable than Granny, but in her own special, out-going way.  Magrat, an archetypical new age wiccan, provides a counterpoint to her more traditional colleagues.

The supporting cast is no less memorable.  There is the mad duke and his sociopath duchess; Vitoller, a rumbling thespian, and his band of strolling players, including Hwel the playwright; and the canny fool.  Keep an eye out for Hwel and his bouts of inspiration:  side-splittingly funny.

Comparing Pratchett with Pratchett, I would grade Wyrd Sisters with an A.  He has written better, but only just.  And an A for Terry Pratchett is an A+ for a lot of other writers.  Worth the time, and then some.

The Book of Tea by Kakuzo Okakura

My friends know how much I like a good cup of tea - Irish Breakfast by choice, Lapsang Souchong if I am feeling adventurous.  Despite my liking for the beverage, I have never set much store by any ceremony that may accompany it: a cup, a teabag, some boiling water and a splash of milk - that's me.  Oh, and some peace and quiet.  Works for me.

But there more to tea than brewing and drinking, and that is what Okakura tells us about in his little book, first published in 1906.  In this slender volume, we are told about the history of tea, from its beginnings as a medicine, through its development as a beverage, to its culmination as the central element of a rigorous zen ceremony.

In setting out this history, Okakura delights the reader with digressions into historical anecdotes about tea, art, architecture, monastic life and zen philosophy, among other things.  The author is well aware of the beauty of the natural world, and he makes it shine out of every page.  Through terse but evocative prose, Okakura opens the Western mind to the psychology of the East (if we can use such broad terms), and the reader comes to a realisation of the philosophy underlying the aesthetic of the tea ceremony:

It was the process, not the deed, which was interesting.  It was the completing, not the completion, which was really vital.  Man came thus at once face to face with nature.  A new meaning grew into the art of life. The tea began to be not a poetical pastime, but one of the methods of self-realisation.

There is so much more to this book that I can possibly convey in the limited space available to me.  It is certainly worth reading, perhaps it is better to be lived.  But how?  Oh well, I'll have to think about that one over a cuppa.

Neuromancer by William Gibson

Imagine a world where computer hackers can directly link their consciousness to the Internet through wires.  Henry Case is such a hacker, or used to be.  Case, addicted to cocaine and uppers, embezzled money from his criminal employers to finance his addiction.  They repaid him by damaging his nervous system so he could never hack again.  On the brink of suicide, Case is made an offer too good to refuse: a benefactor will pay to have his nervous system repaired through radical surgery if, in return, Case pulls off a very dangerous and illegal assignment.  He can't even begin to suspect the trouble he is about to experience.

Gibson's tale is told in the best noir fiction style, but with a twist.  The seedy hotels and the even seedier characters that inhabit them exist in an indeterminate future of bionic implants and orbiting space colonies. The action takes place in the dark urban underbellies of Japan and America and moves, seemingly naturally, to outer space and back again.  There is death, deception and double-crosses as the plot unfolds and mysteries are revealed.

Some novels are of their time, some are timeless.  Neuromancer belongs to the former category.  It was new and startling when it appeared in 1984, winning both the Hugo and Nebula awards for that year.  In many ways it was visionary, anticipating the rise of the Internet and popularising the term 'cyberspace'.  Thirty years on, it seems quite dated.  The Internet and cyberspace are old hat now, and it is hard for the 21st century reader to get excited about the idea of an extra 3MBs of RAM (back in the 80s we would have been selling our grannies for that).

Neuromancer can be enjoyed in its own right as an action thriller, and quite a solid and engaging one at that.  It is certainly an interesting historical document in the annals of speculative fiction.

The Daughter of Time by Josephine Tey

I have to admit my ignorance.  Until now I had never heard of Josephine Tey or any of her books.  I was surprised to find out that The Daughter of Time was voted #1 on the list of the 100 Top Crime Novels of All Time by the U.K. Crime Writers Association, and #4 on a similar list compiled by the Mystery Writers of America.

I am not widely read in crime fiction, so I cannot really comment on the relative merits of this book compared with hundreds of others in the genre.  I can say it is a cracking good read.  The Daughter of Time is a modern cold case investigation into a 500 year old mystery regarding Richard III.

Although popular in his own time, Richard III has gone down in history as a villain who possibly murdered his wife, one of his brothers, his two nephews and Henry VI.  How much of this is fact, and how much of it is Tudor propaganda?  Did he really murder his nephews - Edward V and Richard of York - better known as the Princes in the Tower?  These are the questions The Daughter of Time seeks to answer. 

The novel is set shortly after the Second World War.  Inspector Alan Grant of Scotland Yard has been severely injured in a fall and is now bed-ridden in hospital.  A friend suggests he should try to solve a historical mystery in order to exercise his analytic skills and to stave off boredom.  Grant finally decides on Richard III and the Princes in the Tower, a subject with which he is only slightly acquainted.  Through his friends and colleagues who come to visit him, Grant begins to amass evidence about the case and comes to a startling conclusion.

The Daughter of Time is remarkable in several ways.  First, all the action takes place in the one hospital room - Grant can't get out of bed.  Second, the narrative consists mostly of conversations, inner dialogue and snippets from books and letters.  Despite these limitations, the story is fresh and gripping.  Of necessity, there is a lot of exposition and analysis of history, but this is so skillfully woven into the dialogue between sharp-witted and likeable characters that it avoids seeming like a history lesson  Instead, the story comes across as an instructive and intriguing unravelling of a true mystery. No opium ink on a leaden page here: Tey is a great stylist who makes the reader want to find out what happens next at every turn.

I place The Daughter of Time at the top of my meagre list of mystery novels, secure in the knowledge that the U.K. Crime Writers Association would approve of my choice.