Tag: humour

Book Review: Mr Campion’s Christmas by Mike Ripley – a fun, seasonal read with both thrills and period charm

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

Mike Ripley is the author of the Fitzroy Maclean Angel crime series featuring an enigmatic bandleader as its sleuth. Then about ten years ago he picked up where Margery Allingham left off and has written another twelve novels in her Albert Campion series. I feel as if I’m rather late to the party having never read any of the Campion books, which Allingham began way back in 1929, a kind of spoof, supposedly, of Dorothy Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey novels.

Having just read Mr Campion’s Christmas I feel I have a bit of catching up to do. The story begins with a bus journey from London, leaving the Victoria Coach Station a couple of days after Christmas. It’s 1962, a year that went down in history not only for the Cuban Missile Crisis, but also a severe season of blizzards that particularly rocked East Anglia. The coach is heading for Walsingham, a Norfolk village famous for its shrines and as such a destination for pilgrims.

Walsingham is also near an RAF airbase, so there are three genial American airman on board, as well as a small collection of odd characters: Hereward Henderson, a history buff and general bore, Miss Pounder, a reserved middle-aged woman, Reverend Breck who is planning to retire in Walsingham, and Fred De Vries, a Dutch art dealer who guards his luggage with his life. It’s a nerve-wracking journey for Graham Fisk, the driver, as snow turns to blizzard, so he’s only too happy to hand over the driving to one of the airmen. But even Oscar can’t keep the bus straight in such horrific conditions and the coach collides with one of the gate posts of a country house named Carterers.

Yes, it’s the home of Albert Campion, his wife Lady Amanda and their son Rupert, just home from his first term at a University in America. The three are hunkering down as the snow falls, along with Campion’s side-kick Magersfontein Lugg, a large man with a few rough edges. The hot meals keep coming thanks to Mrs Thursby, the housekeeper, and the family have also rescued Lloyd Thursby, Mrs Thursby’s deaf father-in-law who has a passion for watching westerns on the TV.

Suddenly the Campions are playing hosts to the stranded coach party and sleeping arrangements have to be sorted. But what starts out as Yule-tide hospitality turns into a hostage situation plus a murder, and it’s a return to the old days for Campion and Lugg who must save the day. It’s a classic kind of thriller, made entertaining and fresh by the quirky characters of the household as well as those from the coach. Most of this group seem to be harbouring a secret, just to make things complicated.

Mr Campion flung open the kitchen door, strode in and turned the light on as if he owned the place, which of course he did. He and Lugg were confronted by a scene of simple domesticity, if the detritus of catering for eight unexpected guests arriving in a snowstorm could be described as simple. Everything seemed to be in its place, or at least where Amanda and Mrs Thursby had left it.
‘If we ‘ad a burglar, he wasn’t peckish,’ said Lugg, indicating the tray of geometrically arranged mince pies Mrs Thursby had baked ‘just in case’ before she went to bed. As if moving chess pieces, he carefully picked out two which did not disturb the pattern unduly and began munching.
‘Can I get you the brandy butter and a pot of tea perhaps?’ hissed Campion. ‘Or can we get on?’

Of course the telephone loses connection so there’s no chance of rescue, and the Campions must rescue themselves, although help comes from an unexpected quarter. Lady Amanda is a modern woman, with a career in the aeronautical industry, and also gets to show her mettle. Just as all seems lost, Campion devises an oddball plan that is very entertaining as well as reasonably nail-biting. Campion hides his skill at handling tricky situations behind a facade of batty eccentricity, that’s a little P G Wodehouse, while his brain is in overdrive looking for windows of opportunity. There are codewords and his number one weapon, the size and heft of Lugg, is eventually deployed.

Bubbling through it all is a steady stream of wit, humorous incidents and smart writing that makes this update of an old favourite nicely readable for a modern audience. But you’re still happily in 1962 and the classic crime writing of this era – the perfect light, diverting escapade for Christmas. Mr Campion’s Christmas is a four-star read from me.

Book Review: The Bookshop Detectives: Dead Girl Gone by Gareth Ward and Louise Ward – a humorous take on the bookshop mystery, packed with local colour

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I went to an author talk recently at which authors Gareth and Louise Ward described how they came to write a book together set in the New Zealand village of Havelock North where they live and where they own a bookshop. The Bookshop Detectives: Dead Girl Gone is a delightful cosy mystery and part of the humour for me, anyway – and this is a very funny book – comes from the way the main characters, Garth and Eloise Sherlock, owners of Sherlock Tomes, are seemingly versions of the authors and their world.

In real life, Gareth and Louise were also, once upon a time, coppers back in the UK, or Blighty as they call it. And they do have a large dog with a sensitive personality who is often at the shop – I’ve been there a few times, so I know. The world of these booksellers just seems made for a cosy mystery series, doesn’t it? At the talk I was amused to learn that the dog, Stevie, was a more prominent character in the first drafts, until the editor cut out large chunks with “too much Stevie” scrawled in the margin. So for lovers of mysteries where pets save the day and solve the murder, this doesn’t quite happen, although I am happy to say, Stevie does play a pivotal role in things.

The story revolves around a cold case, the disappearance of schoolgirl, Tracey Jervis, decades before. A bright student with a talent for poetry, Tracey left home, heading for the circus, and was never seen again. There were rumours of her being caught in a clinch with a teacher, but the work she did helping a politician with his campaign seems to have thrown up more questions. As well as being politically ambitious, Franklin White is a property developer, with an arrogance that makes him easy to loathe. And then there’s Tracey’s controlling father; and what about the ex-boyfriend?

Meryl is an artist, as she’s told us often, although I’ve never seen any of her work in Havelock North’s galleries or that other purveyor of fine art, the local coffee shop. She barges past me pulling a granny trolley, which she is far too young to be using. ‘What other calendars have you got?’ she asks, seeming indifferent to the fact that I haven’t set up for the day, or even yet switched the lights on.
Despite having been ordered from the reps in February, the main drop of calendars hasn’t arrived yet. They get later each year and the shipping issues we’ve had thanks to Covid have only made matters worse. ‘They’re in a box up at the counter,’ I tell Meryl. ‘We’ve just had a couple of the smaller suppliers so far.’ I grab two piles of magazines banded with plastic strips from outside the door and hurry after her.
‘What about “Nice Jewish Guys”?’
When we first opened the shop, and didn’t know what we were doing, we got an eclectic mix of calendars of which perhaps the most bizarre was ‘Nice Jewish Guys’. We put a photo of Eloise swooning over it up on Facebook as a bit of a giggle and sold all four copies the same day. Ever since it has been a firm seller every year, though the calendar rep told us we’re the only retailer in New Zealand that stocks it.

Garth and Eloise had never heard of Tracey Jarvis until a mysterious package is delivered to the shop with a copy of a book inside – See You in September, by real-life local author, Charity Norman. The book has been annotated with a message – a call to action to reinvestigate Tracey’s disappearance, and on the package is a reference to Eloise’s old police badge number, which was hardly something anyone local would know. The couple can’t help wondering if there’s a link to a nasty criminal Eloise had helped put away years ago and who casts a lingering shadow.

Other story threads are woven in, the most notable being the decision of one of the world’s best-selling authors to launch her latest book at Sherlock Tomes, a colossal and mind-boggling event that has to be kept under wraps. Then there’s the flower pilferer that is pinching flowers from the shop’s window box as well as the menace provided by some thuggish gang members who try to put a stop to the Tracey Jarvis investigation.

Everything comes together neatly, the plot building to a simmering conclusion full of surprises and fair dose of action. But while the book lives up to it’s ‘cosy mystery’ label, it’s also a view into the enchanting world of bookshops and the people who visit, its quirky and loveable staff, and the curious characters who inhabit the village. Dead Girl Gone is the first in a series, with a second book already in the pipeline to look out for. Can’t wait! This one’s a four-star read from me.

Book Review: Romantic Comedy by Curtis Sittenfeld – a warm and witty novel that explores the affairs of the heart

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I loved Eligible, Curtis Sittenfeld’s modern interpretation of Pride and Prejudice, written for The Austen Project and published in 2016. It was smart, funny and romantic, and a very clever update. So I was expecting a similar vibe with Romantic Comedy, a novel about a sketch writer for a late night TV show and an unexpected romance.

Sally Milz has been writing comedy sketches for The Night Owls for almost ten years and has seen a lot of talent come and go. When fellow writer Danny starts dating Annabel, a beautiful actress who is also super talented and bright, Sally is peeved. Why is it that fairly ordinary guys like Danny can date and even plan a future with women who are way out of their league, when it never happens the other way around? There have been several Danny/Annabel type matches at the studio alone but you never see an ordinary-looking woman, or even a mildly pretty one, catching the eye of handsome star in his prime.

The arrival of Noah Brewster, a hugely successful and drop-dead gorgeous music star, as a guest host on the show gives Sally the perfect opportunity for a sketch to highlight this anomaly. The Danny Horst Rule would star Noah as the gorgeous guy who tries to date an average girl. Sally gets more of her skits voted in for the show that week, and so gets to spend more time with Noah at rehearsals. She finds him surprisingly nice, and what’s more, he apparently likes her. He’s easy to talk to and seems to seek her out.

The story follows their interactions and Sally’s growing attraction to Noah, a relationship that she discounts, because there’s no way a guy like that would ever think of her romantically, is there? We meet other people on The Night Owls, particularly fellow actors like Viv and Henrietta, who are Sally’s friends and sounding boards, whose advice is sometimes helpful, and often hilarious. Viv herself has met an eye doctor she’s attracted to so there’s advice going both ways. And we get a bit of Sally’s backstory – a failed marriage, the colleague who broke her heart.

Working on The Night Owls, Sally works excruciatingly long days, and nights, taking naps in her office, but then she’s a perfectionist and gives her work her all. She has decided never again to date a colleague, and has no time for more than an occasional night spent with someone she doesn’t care about. When Noah upsets the applecart of her carefully managed feelings, she doesn’t know what to do.

I heard someone say my name, but at first I was so deeply asleep that I incorporated the voice into my dream. I thought it was Bernard, the janitor, coming to empty my trash can, and, seamlessly, I mumbled, “You can leave the molluscs.” I felt a hand lightly pat my shoulder, and the person said, “Sally, I’m really sorry to bother you” – not a commonly uttered phrase at TNO – and I pulled the T-shrit off my eyes and the earplugs from my ears, sat straight up, and said, “What do you want?”
Hunched over the couch at such an angle that my sitting up had brought our faces within a few inches of each other was Noah Brewster.

This was a fun read for the most part. I found the look behind the scenes of a television show fascinating and Sittenfeld peoples it with plenty of interesting characters and scenarios. Danny’s and Annabel’s relationship has its ups and downs and so there’s plenty going on. There are ups and downs for Sally and Noah too, and a lot of the story has the reader wondering: will they or won’t they? There’s Covid and the lock-downs, long-distance communication and a lot of soul searching. So while this is in many ways a romantic comedy, it’s also at times a serious look at love and life.

Curtis Sittenfeld has written a smart, thoughtful and very romantic novel which has moments of laugh-out-loud humour. My only quibble is that Sally can be difficult company at times, with a tendency to shoot herself in the foot to make a point. Sometimes I wanted to give her a good telling off. So while I didn’t enjoy Romantic Comedy quite as much as Eligible, it’s still entertaining and clever – and a three-and-a-half-star read from me.

Book Review: Back Trouble by Clare Chambers – an oldie but a goodie from a favourite author

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If you enjoyed Clare Chambers’s last book, Small Pleasures, as much as I did, you’ll be pleased to know her new book, Shy Creatures, is out soon. I’ve always loved this author’s particular way with empathy and humour, so when I found an earlier book by Chambers at a second-hand bookshop, I was delighted, in spite of having read it years before.

Back Trouble, first published in 1994, is about Philip, who is about to turn forty, and his life for the most part seems to have gone to custard. We first catch up with him at an awkward family New Year’s celebration. His insurance broker brother Raymond is over from Canada with a new batch of photos of his children, recounting their successes (the football and the gymnastics), while Philip has never felt less like celebrating. With the failure of his publishing company he is in debt up to his eyeballs and the love of his life having gone home to New Zealand, life couldn’t get any worse, could it?

A cold chip from an overflowing municipal bin sends Philip head over tail and the ensuing back injury leaves him bedridden. There’s nothing to do but to fish out the notebook and pens from under his bed and begin to write the story of his childhood – a New Year’s challenge flung out by Raymond, to be completed in three months – just a thousand words a day – no probs. We are reminded that this is the 1990s and the Internet is in its infancy, although probably a more modern-day Philip wouldn’t be diverted by technology as he’d be out of data anyway – he’s that strapped for cash.

The story alternates between scenes of Philip’s growing up in a working class home in London – baths once a week in a tin tub in the kitchen and gristly stew for dinner – with the year he spends falling in love with Kate. Kate’s a health worker from New Zealand on a limited working visa and a breath of fresh air for Philip and the problems. Each chapter concerns a pivotal point – a bit like a short story – a visit with Kate to Philip’s father’s sheltered flat by the sea; a childhood family holiday by the sea; a wedding; home improvements – ordinary things in themselves, but with significance to the whole.

The kitchen was the first room to be tackled. One of the men from the building site had given Dad and industrial-sized drum of bottle green paint from the batch which his brother, who worked for the Council, had been using to paint the park railings. Cost was Dad’s only criterion in selecting materials. This meant garish rolls of wallpaper from the bargain bucket outside the DIY shop, the top six inches of every roll faded by the sun, and brushes which moulted into the paint. He had an idiosyncratic way of decorating. Being both nervous and impatient he didn’t believe in preparing surfaces, always fearing that something terrible might be lurking beneath a layer of bubbly paper or flaking paint. So instead of stripping paintwork, or even washing it, he would set straight to work, brushing gloss over old gloss, dust, mould and even, in one instance, a dead spider which lay preserved like a Pompeian relic in its shell of green paint.

Philip is such a self-deprecating narrator – he has no illusions about where he’s at as he approaches forty – and his story is warmly humorous as it rattles along to a nicely surprising ending. There are some poignant moments too, particularly in Philip’s childhood, with adults not behaving as they ought to and the weight of knowledge that falls on a young boy growing up. It is easy to blame Philip’s careless yet penny-pinching father, but other adults also turn out to be unreliable or even predatory.

Odd allusions to Great Expectations add an interesting twist. There are a raft of curious characters, quirky, helpful or otherwise, which may be another nod to Dickens, particularly the scene at Philip’s grandmother’s house – the blind matriarch and hoarder of useless furniture, including four unplayable pianos, terrifying in her fierceness; the black-toothed Auntie Florrie smoking her woodbines; Punnet the obese black labrador. It’s like stepping back in time.

For a small book, Clare Chambers packs quite a lot in and it’s hugely entertaining. I know she can always be relied upon for an original and big-hearted read so I am so looking forward to Shy Creatures, released on Amazon at the end of the month. Back Trouble is a four-star read from me.

Book Review: Goyhood by Reuven Fenton – a hilarious road-trip story full of unexpected detours

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People often expect twins to be alike – even the non-identical ones. But you couldn’t find two brothers more different than David and Marty Belkin, the main characters in Reuven Fenton’s debut novel Goyhood. We meet them during a heatwave in small-town Georgia when they’re twelve, the day that young Marty, soon to become Mayer, has an epiphany.

The boys are doing it tough, living with a mother who frequently absents herself and drinks too much. So it’s not surprising that when Marty is offered a chance to study at an Orthodox Jewish school, or yeshiva, in New York, he jumps at it.

Switch forward thirty odd years and Mayer is still a student of holy scripture, that’s all he has to do, thanks to the generosity of his father-in-law. His marriage to Sarah is not a happy one, weighed down by difficulties in conceiving a child. Things are all set to change again for Mayer when he gets the news that his mother has died. He will have to sit shiva for her and he’ll see his twin brother again for the first time in decades.

David has had a completely different life to Mayer, having to learn the lessons of life the hard way. There have been a lot of drugs and career misfires, but now he’s made his fortune in the e-cigarette market and turns up to collect Mayer at the airport looking the essence of prosperity. The two hardly recognise each other. A letter written shortly before their mother’s death reveals the bombshell that the boys aren’t technically Jewish which throws Mayer into a spin. With the help of their old rabbi, Yossi, he’ll have the chance to remedy that situation, in a week’s time.

But David’s still a wild boy at heart and persuades his twin to travel to New York with him for the appointment for his ‘conversion’ in a muscle car he nicknames Daisy. They take their mother’s ashes with them, the plan being to scatter them somewhere she would enjoy, and along the way collect an unappealing dog, but not Mayer’s luggage, which has not arrived with him at the airport. David has plans that Mayer should enjoy his week of ‘goyhood’ and live a little, while Mayer is like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

“And due to an unprecedented turn of events, we find ourselves facing an entire week with empty schedules.”
“You’re talking about a vacation,” Mayer said.
“A rehabilitation period to wrap our heads around the existential vortex we’ve fallen into.”
“A vacation.”
“A pilgrimage.”
“I don’t need a vacation. I don’t want to wrap my head around this. If it were up to me, I’d spend the week in a medically induced coma.”
“Listen, Ese, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s when the going gets tough, the tough get in the car and drive.”

The story builds in tension as Mayer is pulled in different directions – his sense that he must live according to religious principals constantly under fire. As Mayer struggles to rein his brother in, Sarah is continually on the phone about his luggage and her sudden plans to join him at his mother’s house. She would be appalled by what Marty has been up to with David and all this adds brilliantly to the story’s humour.

Meanwhile there is plenty of temptation on offer to a man who has never been tried before, particularly when the two hit New Orleans and David offers a ride to Charlayne, an attractive acquaintance of his who is about to walk the Appalachian Trail. David is the sort who lives for the moment and acts on impulse, so the road trip takes some unexpected turns.

Fenton piles on one madcap scene after another, putting our characters through their paces, and even allowing the dog, Popeye, a moment of glory. Intermingled with all this is some deep soul-searching – by the end of the book, the reader has an inkling that change is in the air for Mayer, and possibly for David as well.

It all adds up to an entertaining, feel-good read enhanced by lively dialogue as the characters bounce off each other. The writing is polished and witty and the story never lags for a moment. I enjoyed it immensely and will be keen to read more by this author. Due for release on 28 May, Goyhood is a four-star read from me..

Book Review: All Together Now by Gill Hornby – a heart-warming read full of quirky characters, humour and song

~ Judith ~ 1 Comment

Sometimes all you really want is a nice, “feel-good” novel – something to chase away the darker clouds of a difficult day. The best of them will have characters you’ll warm to, a plot with a few surprises and an emotional pull – tears or laughter, either way, I’m not fussy.

I haven’t been in a choir since school, but still remember the whoosh you get when a lot of people get together and harmonise in song. Gill Hornby brings her joy for choral singing into her story about a struggling choir in a dead-end town. All Together Now follows the lives of three main characters: socially-awkward Bennett, once a choir boy and now, recently single again, he’s at a loose end; librarian Annie who does all the donkey work for the choir as a way of dealing with her “empty nest”; and Tracey, who is too cool for choirs, but can really belt out a number in the privacy of her home. Tracey also has a burning secret.

The story starts off with a car accident that leaves the Bridgeford Community Choir rudderless, its choirmaster hospitalised and in a coma. There’s a county choral championship up for grabs, and a town in dire need of invigorating – but can a medley from The Sound of Music or The Carpenters be the answer?

Tracey spots the choir performing outside the station one day and it makes her cringe. She’s one of life’s soloists. When her layabout son of twenty-two goes out to work one evening, she suddenly feels liberated. She dusts off her old music collection and begins to sing. A knock on the door and there’s someone she recognises; it’s Lewis from the choir, surprisingly also a neighbour, who rather than demanding Tracey turn it down a bit, implores her to join their choir.

Tracey became aware that, rather than the raspy, throaty one that she used when she was singling along with Billy, she was using her chest voice for once, and she could feel the calming, anti-depressant effect it had on her stressed-out body. But it wasn’t until she was back in the living room, tucked up with her glass and the bottle on the sofa, that she realised exactly what it was she was singing. Christ almighty. Those bloody belters had wormed into her ear, through to her brain, down to her lungs. They had regressed her. She was regressing. For the first time in nearly thirty years, she was spending the night in alone pretending to be Karen bloody Carpenter. How sad was that?

The story follows the lives of Annie, Tracey and Bennett in parallel to the struggling choir that might just save them all. Tracey finds she’s not such a soloist after all, in the choir or in life; Bennett steps up to help save the town, and proves to his kids that he’s almost kinda cool; Annie takes a hard look at her marriage and makes a surprising discovery. And the choir gets a bit better. It’s an uplifting tale, but it’s also full of laughs and dry wit, particularly in the way the characters bounce off each other, disagree but also sing together. There are some amusing and some discordant minor characters that give the plot a bit of tension.

The story is peppered with music – the lines of songs nicely mixed in the scenes describing the choir in rehearsal so you have a sense of how it all sounds. Most of the songs are pretty familiar, but in case you don’t know them there’s a handy play-list of at the back and even a Spotify link so you can hear them as well.

All Together Now really hits the spot for a big-hearted, cheering sort of read, more character driven than a gripping page-turner, the prose bright and witty. I’ll probably not be rushing off to join a choir anytime soon, but will happily curl up on the sofa with another book by Gill Hornby. This one’s a four-star read from me.

Book Review: Prettier if She Smiled More by Toni Jordan – another hilarious round with the Schnabels

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I hadn’t realised until I started it, that Toni Jordan’s latest novel features a bunch of the same characters we met in Dinner with the Schnabels – one of my favourite reads from 2022. In Prettier if She Smiled More, we follow the story of Kylie Schnabel who at the start of the book is about to experience three disasters that upend her life – all before Wednesday. By the end of the week, nothing will be the same.

Kylie Schnabel, if you remember, is the oldest sibling, daughter of Schnabel matriarch Gloria. She works as a pharmacist and likes to think she has everything under control. She’s very serious and is a stickler for detail, hardworking and a little abrupt. She’s been working at the same small suburban pharmacy since she graduated, living frugally and planning her life around one day buying the shop from her genial boss Tim who’s approaching retirement.

Life’s all going to plan, until one day it isn’t. Kylie gets to work on Monday to discover that Tim is selling his shop to a chain of pharmacies, a big business conglomerate all set to modernise and refurb. Gail from Pharmacy King insists Kylie reapply for her job – just a formality, and even though Kylie has a work ethic second to none and has won a Young Pharmacist of the Year award, the reader knows it’s going to be tricky. Kylie’s sometimes grim, no-nonsense manner is going to be a problem.

Then there’s Colin, Kylie’s partner, who is supposedly away at a business conference but activity on his Fitbit suggests he’s getting up to some extra-curricular hanky-panky. Kylie suddenly sees unpatchable cracks in their relationship. When Gloria breaks her ankle and needs full-time care, Kylie finds herself back at her childhood home, dealing with a mother who doesn’t want to be looked after and somehow ends up baby-sitting Caesar, a tiny Pomeranian.

There are plenty of funny moments, and Kylie’s internal monologue is always entertaining – she’s such a force of nature. But coming home where the decor is still stuck in the 1980s and there are so many reminders of her childhood, suddenly the past comes back with a wallop. Why has Kylie’s bedroom been turned into a sewing room, while her siblings, Tansy and Nick’s rooms are still intact, just as they left them? Then there’s her parent’s acrimonious divorce and memories of her childhood anguish, of being the eldest and having to be the sensible one when her mother was in pieces.

‘Your … father, is this?’ Ramona said, picking up one of the photos. ‘Is very handsome, but familiar somehow?…
  …In those years before Photoshop, what could be done about David, who was in the centre of many of the said photos and who Gloria wished dead several times a day in a variety of painful ways? Facing the grinning face of her ex-husband every day in her own home was untenable.
  Gloria’s solution had been to cut out a range of Kevin Costner heads of varying sizes from different magazines and glue them over similarly sized David heads. Now the family photos lined up on the mantel were of Gloria and Kevin, standing proudly behind their children, young Kylie, Tansy and Nick.

There’s a lot for Kylie to deal with, all in one week, including a tennis open day for Gloria, who is a children’s tennis coach. There’s finding a nurse who will want to stay with her mother so that she can get back to work when Gloria has other ideas. Kylie’s brother Nick talks her into going on a date with one of his mates. And on top of everything, Kylie has agreed to host the family lunch on Sunday. As the pressure mounts, something has to give.

Prettier if She Smiled More is a smart and often hilarious second-chances kind of novel. The format is similar to Dinner with the Schnabels, with one character having a lot to get done as the days of a single week slip by and each day heralds more problems. The final chapter brings everything to a head and somehow everything gets fixed, but in a way Kylie, the meticulous over-planner, would never have predicted a week earlier. I loved it and wouldn’t say no to another Schnabel novel if Toni Jordan feels so inclined. This one’s gets an easy five out of five stars from me.

Book Review: No Life for a Lady by Hannah Dolby – a light and humorous adventure

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This novel was a breath of fresh air, a lively read that was a welcome pick-me-up without challenging the brain cells too much. Part rom-com, part mystery with a little comedy of manners thrown in, No Life for a Lady follows Violet Hamilton who lives with her father in the English seaside town of Hastings.

We’re in the final years of the 19th century, and at 28, Violet should be happily married off by now, according to her respectable banker dad. But Violet is determined never to marry, her parents own marriage having been somewhat less than blissful. So much so that a decade ago, Violet’s beautiful mother Lily disappeared. She’d just popped out to visit friends one evening and never returned.

Lily’s disappearance might have been an accidental drowning as she was last seen on the pier. Had she fallen into the sea and been washed away? That certainly seems to be a possible theory and the one Mr Hamilton propounds to Violet, all the better for her to put her mother behind her and move on with her life. But Violet feels she would know if her mother had died, and thinks she could be out there somewhere, maybe even needing help.

When Violet decides to hire a detective, she sets in motion a chain of unforeseen events that spell disaster on one hand, but also push Violet to becoming a sleuth herself. Frank Knight is the only detective in town and eagerly takes on her case. But Violet is unimpressed with his lack of professionalism, and his assumptions about Lily seem set to defame her rather than save her.

The disappointments of the decade had been compounded by the realisation it was almost impossible for a lady to take up a respectable profession. I had been set on the idea, but now my attic was filled with the skeletons of half-finished hats, faded botanical specimens and, most tragic of all, dusty portraits of a few worthy occupants of the town. This last career had ended abruptly when I persuaded the wife of the town mayor to pose for a portrait. I had faithfully included all three of her chins, upon which she told me she had only sat for me out of sympathy, forbade me to continue as an artist and left, chins wobbling in fury.

Violet finds an old newspaper which leads her to Benjamin Blackthorn, a reluctant detective who has given up the trade in favour of selling furniture in the old, slightly seedy part of town. While he is the opposite of Knight in every way, Benjamin refuses to take on her case, but Violet wears him down enough to allow her to help with one or two cases that require a woman’s touch. Violet is more enthusiastic than subtle at the outset, which leads to some hilarious confrontations.

Dolby’s manuscript for the book was the runner-up in the Comedy Women in Print awards, and there are plenty of fun scenes, the writing’s witty, but there’s plenty to think about too. There are issues around the constraints placed on women in the era, of class and the lack of choice when it comes to making a living: marriage, servitude or prostitution seem to be the main options for women. Add to that the resigned tedium of being stuck in an unhappy marriage; the ignominy of divorce.

Packed with an assortment of quaint and humorous characters, the story builds to a dramatic conclusion involving surprising revelations and a fair amount of danger. For a young lady of her time, Violet has to step outside the norm of proper behaviour but finds allies in surprising places. The ending leaves us with possibilities for a sequel, perhaps more cases for Violet to solve. I shall certainly be keen to read more of Violet’s adventures. No Life for a Lady gets four out of five stars from me.

Book Review: Less Than Angels by Barbara Pym – anthropology meets comedy of manners

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

I seem to have got caught in the 1950s, first with the Charlotte Bingham memoir, and now with this book published in 1955.

Less Than Angels follows a group of people connected to an anthropology faculty at a London university. It opens in a café where Catherine, a freelance writer for women’s magazines, is sitting watching people go by from her seat by the window. Outside two anthropology academics are hurrying to a party at a new research centre that has been donated by a wealthy widow named Mrs Foresight.

At the party we meet Esther Clovis who is one of those ‘excellent women’ who keep everything ticking along, while the more senior men strut and proclaim. These include elderly Professor Mainwaring, once obviously devilishly handsome, who has secured the funding by charming his way into Mrs Forsight’s good books and who gets to choose the recipients of the research grants later in the book.

Esther is not an attractive character, but Pym gives her feelings none the less and makes her interesting. Here she is as the party is about to start, worrying about the students who have gathered in the library to study and how to throw them out nicely. In the end she invites them to stay for the party and we meet them all.

I confess I was a little put off by this lengthy party scene at the beginning of the book. So many characters to keep track of, including two young men in their third year, Digby and Mark, who add a touch of comedy, and new student Deirdre, who has begun to wonder why she decided on anthropology in the first place. Deirdre is a wistful, restless girl with the kind of languid beauty that goes with all that. She lives with her widowed mother and a ‘spinster’ aunt in a leafy suburb. They live next door to failed anthropologist, Alaric Lydgate, who has an alarming collection of African masks which he wears in the privacy of his garden.

It was odd to think that he himself had once been on the threshold of that kind of life and that he had thrown it all away, as it were, to go out to Africa and study the ways of a so-called primitive tribe. For really, when one came to consider it, what could be more primitive than the rigid ceremonial of launching a debutante on the marriage market?

The story really picks up when Tom Mallow returns from his stint in Africa to write his thesis, and to his domestic arrangements with Catherine, who has a bohemian style flat. Catherine obviously loves Tom, who seems surprised by his own easy charm with women, but he’s soon drawn to Deirdre.

So the story has a kind of love triangle in the centre of it, with a myriad of interesting characters and the small politics of a university faculty in the background. When it comes to anthropology, Pym seems to know her stuff – she was at one time the editor of the journal of the International Institute of African Languages and Cultures in London. And perhaps this has inspired her because while the novel’s academics are absorbed in the study of African tribes, their customs, values and intergenerational connections, Pym seems to casting her own anthropological eye over the British middle classes.

Barbara Pym has often been described as a twentieth century Jane Austen and this is particularly so when it comes to her thoughts on being a woman in her time, the sexism and the rocky road of making a place in the world for oneself. Universal themes, but enhanced with Pym’s sparkling wit and gentle send-up of social formalities. Once I’d settled into the book, I found this a brilliant story, both entertaining and thought-provoking – but then, I’ve been a Barbara Pym fan for decades, so I knew I was in safe hands. Less Than Angels is a four-and-a-half star read from me.

Book Review: Spies and Stars: MI5 Showbusiness and Me by Charlotte Bingham – Round Two in Bingham’s hilarious MI5 reminiscences

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

This is one of those memoirs that read like a like a novel. It’s the second of Bingham’s recollections of her career in MI5. In the first, MI5 and Me, Bingham was encouraged to join the secretarial staff at MI5 by her father – she’d been just faffing around at home. Her father was quite important in MI5 himself – according to notes at the rear of the book, the inspiration for the character of George Smiley, in the John le Carré novels. Which makes her story seem all the more extraordinary.

Charlotte, or Lottie as everyone calls her, is twenty-something, and her interactions with fellow secretaries, Arabella and Zuzu reminded me a little of the St Trinian’s stories. They’re probably a similar era too – the events in this book take place the 1950s. As well as her work in the War Office, there is her developing relationship with her boyfriend Harry and their writing. Lottie and Harry spend hours after work beavering away in cafés on their film scripts hoping to make it in showbusiness. The characters they meet – the producers and performers – are often oddball and flamboyant, and wonderfully brought to life here.

Harry is a struggling actor so the writing helps keep him busy when he’s ‘resting’. But like Lottie, Mr Bingham sees in Harry someone who can do a job for him. He’s already got a couple of actors on his team – Hal and Melville even live at the family home, Dingle Dell. So Harry finds himself hawking copies of the Communist paper The Daily Worker outside the entrance to the Kensington High St tube station, alongside a ‘blind’ match seller also working for Lottie’s dad.

I went back to Dingley Dell feeling thoughtful only to bump into Hal and Melville both hurrying back into the house carrying copies of the Daily Worker.

‘Really, Lottie darling, the things I do for England,’ Melville said, sighing.

‘I shall read it cover to cover,’ Hal boomed. ‘I think of it as a political Beano. Apparently these asses really believe we are all equal. They wouldn’t if they’d ever toured with Dougie Robinson.’

A lot of Spies and Stars describes how Lottie and Harry come up with scripts, then dealing with agents and producers. Their first, The Happy Communist, is inspired by Harry’s Daily Worker pushing stint. There’s a terrible panic when their agent says there’s someone interested. What will Lottie’s father say? But obviously there’s some writing talent on display, as the two carry on writing more scripts and even sell a few. They soon learn the lesson not to expect their scripts to resemble anything like their originals once they’ve been through the rewriting team.

As I said before the memoir reads like a novel. Bingham is just so good with her characters, who are all vividly drawn, full of the quirks that make them interesting. And well, between show business and MI5, they’re a madcap bunch. And then there’s her use of dialogue, which creates lively scenes. You can tell that she had the talent to go on to write for popular television series like Upstairs Downstairs, which I remember I never missed as a girl.

Charlotte Bingham’s memoirs are fun, light reading, and almost qualify as ‘strange but true’. But maybe 1950s England was like that. And she really knows how to tell a story. I am tempted to try Bingham’s novels – there are dozens of them mostly published in the 1990s up to 2014. Spies and Stars is a four-star read from me, but if you’re tempted to pick this up, you’re probably best to read MI5 and Me first.