Random Jottings

Murder in Vienna - E C R Lorac

One of the joys of the British LIbrary Classic Crime series has been the discovery of E C R Lorac (she also writes under the name of Carol Carnac) and becoming acquainted with Superintendent Macdonald. 

Murder in Vienna was published in 1956 and has long been out of print. I managed to get hold of a very tatty copy some years back but am delighted that this new edition, with the usual elegiac and wonderful covers, was sent to me by the British Library for review. Always a joy to receive titles and to discover writers that I know nothing about. E C R Lorac has been one of their most popular discoveries and there are plenty more titles to get through so here is hoping for more.

The introduction, as always written in a masterly fashion by Martin Edwards, points out that this was one of a number of British detective novels from this period which were sent in overseas locations.                                               

"Crime writers were responding to the desire of readers, wearied by years of
domestic post-war austerity and keen on escapist ficiton to enjoy a vicarious sense of the glamour of foreign travel".

Vienna is a city which I simply must visit. It has always fascinated me, the land of music and Strauss and Elizabeth, Empress of Austria, sachertorte and coffee houses and much more. So any books set in this city grab my attention and I was delighted to see that the rather charming Macdonald is in Vienna.

"for him the city had a charm all of its own. After all, under its gaiety and brilliance Vienna has always been a centre of intrigue"

He is visiting an old friend Dr Natzler and on the plane notes some unusual passengers. Elizabeth le Vendre is a young new secretary to Sir Walter Vanbrugh who is going to help write his memoirs.  There are rumours that these memoirs are not viewed with favour and when Elizabeth is reported missing and found unconscious from an attack, Macdonald finds himself caught up in the investigation.

Set against the background of post war Vienna, with its beautiful palaces and gardens, its disenchanted residents and scars of war, E C R Lorac has written a book drenched in atmosphere.  Those of us who remember the film The Third Man which captures the slightly noirish feel of Vienna at this time will receive the same feeling when reading this story. 

This mystery makes its return to print for the first time since its original appearance. I highly recommend it.  Though I love Lorac's books, as with prolific authors there are those that I enjoy less than others, but this is not one of them.  It goes onn my list of favourites.

Lady Living Alone - Norah Lofts

Norah Lofts is the author of almost fifty historical fiction novels none of which I have read though I am an admirer of the genre.  I have tried but found them not to my taste and some of the titles and, in the sixties and seventies, ghastly covers always put me off.

She was among the list of authors who had a vast turnover when I worked in the library system years ago. In that long ago time when Mary McCarthy, Iris Murdoch et al were the authors of the day, Norah Lofts, along with D E Stevenson, E M Delafield, Miss Read and Dorothy Whipple were never on the library shelves as they were borrowed as quickly as they returned. I have mentioned before, and here I go mentioning it again, that I rather turned my nose up at these ‘nice’ books which I thought were only good enough for old ladies. Well now I know better and also as an old lady myself have read all the works of the aforementioned and love them. Inside those seemingly sweet and slightly twee book covers lurked stories that were true to life and exposed all the frailties and temptations by which we are all affected.   I am pleased to say that these authors are now read by a younger audience as well and much appreciated.

Norah Lofts wrote four non historical novels between 1940 and 1960 under the pseudonym Peter Curtis. It seemed she wished to try something different but did not wish to alienate her fan base. Lady Living Alone, now published under her real name by the British Library, was one of these titles and I was rather intrigued when it dropped through my letter box.

Penelope Shadow is a moderately successful writer but her circumstances are transformed by the unexpected success of her fourth novel Mexican Flowers and, at the age of 35, she finds herself wealthy and capable of an independent life.

The choice of name is apt as she seems a shadowy person, timid and self effacing and
incapable of looking after herself. She had been living with her sister Elsie and her children and when faced with the reality of buying a house of her own, as her sister wishes to remarry, she has no idea how to go about it.

“As soon as she had shown her piquant little face and began to relate in her vague rambling manner what she required that men in fusty house agencies began to think dark and dangerous thoughts connected with ridding themselves of some ‘sticker’ some house which had been on the books for months or even years…”

In the end Elsie stepped in and found a suitable house. Penelope moved in and all seemed set fair except for the fact that Penelope had never lived alone before, had no idea how to deal with every day matters, and over the coming months was doomed to lose on a regular basis her housekeepers/servants who either cheated her or became bored.

Returning home one day and having been given notice by her latest woman, Penelope stopped for the night at a hotel as she simply could not go home to an empty house. The hotel is uncomfortable, badly run and in the middle of nowhere but it was better than going home alone. Here she is assiduously looked after by the Boy who makes sure she has a good room, a hot water bottle and well fed despite the slightly eccentric owners seeming careless attention to their guests.

“You have been very kind to me”

“Well I haven’t strained myself over it. And you look at though you could do with a bit of looking after”

Penelope looked up sharply, scenting impertinence but none was there. He had made a simple statement of fact and only a fool or a snob could have resented it”

Unhappy with his position as a general man of all work, Terry which is his name agrees to come and work for her and they leave together.  It is clear to any reader that this is a dangerous and foolish move and disaster lies ahead. At first all is well, Penelope is well looked after, her life is running smoothly and, best of all, she is not alone in her house. As the months go by gossip about their relationship is rife but as she is totally unaware of this and it is only brought to her attention by Terry the reader once more suspects his motives.

He tells her that he has fallen in love with her.

“I think I do love you Terry and if you feel the same in the morning ….I think we’ll  have to get married”

She slipped away so she missed the expression of calculating triumph which, despite his efforts to suppress it, dawned on his face at her final words……after all one likes six months of hard labour to bear some result”

The inevitable happens. Ephemeral happiness in her marriage and then a gradual realisation that Terry is unfaithful and clearly wishes to have control of her money and she is helpless.  And it is then that Norah Lofts gives the story of Penelope a totally unexpected twist and an ending to the story that left me quite staggered.   The slightly ineffectual Miss Shadow turns out to have hitherto unsuspected depths and imagination to best her erring husband and to emerge triumphant.

I will say no more as I do not wish to give anything away.  It is not surprising that Norah Lofts wrote this under a different name as her normal readership would have been astonished. I only wish she had written more like this.

The British Library Women Writer’s series has come up with some really interesting titles over the last few years and I found this most enjoyable.

I wonder what else they will discover ......

Books and TV - Random thoughts

It is that time of the year when the nights draw in and one hunkers down and that is what I have been doing these last few weeks. When the clocks go back and it gets dark at 4pm then I like to draw the curtains, make tea and curl up with a book or the remote.

In the last few weeks I decided to rewatch West Wing right from the beginning. Not quite sure why but I keep getting little "best bits" popping up on my twitter/Face book feed so it made me feel that I would like to check it out. So I have the first three seasons to hand and am currently half way through Season 2.  I am grateful for sub-titles now as most of the characters are charging around the White House at warp speed and chatting all the time and I missed quite a lot of at first watch so now I can catch up.

So what do I think? Well, I am enjoying it but am finding it somewhat irritating in parts which I did not before. I am getting older and more cycnical as time passes which may account for it. The saintliness of President Bartlett and his ability to talk knowledgeably on EVERYTHING is beginning to wear thin as is Donna's back chat with Josh which is irritating to the nth degree. I know that the script is brilliant and the back and forth is witty and savvy, but in my experience of meetings (an experience of many years) most people waffle and are less than incisive. Still it is tv.

I also am coming to the conclusion that it is not necessary for a distant trumpet to sound every time the President says something wonderful and his staff are stunned into awe struck silence.

A book has just come out called What's Next celebrating 25 years since the programme was aired and I decided to get it and read and catch up on insider chat etc.  Well there is plenty of that but the two authors, who were in the show, seem to decide that gush mode is the way to go.  Every time an actor is discussed, how they booked him, auditioned him etc they come in with bracketed interpolations usally saying OMG he smashed it, he was incredible, everyone was stunned into silence blah blah blah.  Half way through this mighty tome, and it weighs in at about 3lb, I could take no more and it has been tossed into the home for abandoned books.

It also seems that Martin Sheen in person as well as in his role as the President was a saint, a saint I tell you, who went round chatting to the lowest members of the team and reducing them to star struck silence.

So that was that.

Now in between watching West Wing, I have  binging on Netflix and have been watching the Lincoln Lawyer. Series 3 has just finished and it is excellent. There was a movie of the first book in the series starring Matthew McConaugheyand it was pretty good but the series has
taken it further and dramatised the books by Michael Connelly. They have done a really good job. The script writers have stuck to the story lines closely with no mucking about or huge changes, and though there are certain changes in personnel which I think add to the drama rather than detract, the main narrative remains the same as the books.  Extremely well done and I am thoroughly enoying them.

Over on Prime Video Michael Connelly has also been adapted extremely well, this time the Harry Bosch series. Once again, the story lines have been stuck to with some alteration but the heart of the stories has remained the same.

I gather there is a slight problem with the Lincoln Lawyer series 4 which they are having to solve, in that Netflix and Prime Video have dramatised the stories but have not used characters from the Bosch books and there are a few occasions when there has been a cross over. There is no way they can avoid this in the next run so I gather that meetings are being held and secret talks taking place to try and resolve the issue. I guess it will come down to money in the end.

What I have enjoyed about both the above is the producers have remained faithful to the original work.  I do wish others would take note.   Here in the UK there have been recent dramatisations of Dame Agatha Christie where not only have the characterisations of the protagonists been changed which is irritating, but in some case the actual murderer has been altered too which I think is unforgivable.   If you are going to adapt an author for the TV or the big screen, there is nobody who does not understand that changes have to be made for dramtic purpose, but to off piste is just not on.  The recent movies with Kenneth Branagh as Poirot are simply awful and I think are a vanity project for Our Ken. I gather he has more in the works. I tried to watch Death on the Nile and Murder on the Orient Express but they had the narrative drive and speed of a sloth so I gave up.

If you have not read the Connelly books I can really recommend them. I have read the lot and he is still going strong so, hopefully, many more to come.

Oh and I have to say that if you can, do watch The Diplomat on Netflix. Not a book, an original screenplay, and it is simply terrific. In the second series which I have just watched (twice as I missed nuances the first time) Alison Janney, who played CJ in the West Wing, turns up as the Vice President of the United States, and I have to say she steals the show. Wonderful.

I have also read a rather interesting book in the last few days, as far removed from all of the above as it is possible to be, and I am pondering on my post on that. I will let you have my thoughts soon.

Now off to get my supper. Last night I was eating my casserole on a tray (I have no dining room in my flat) and I managed to drop it all over the floor. While cleaning it up I stepped backwards onto a potato and squashed it flat. Scrubbed the kitchen floor, checked food was ok and bunged it in the microwave. Got it out, put it on tray and yes, banged into the door and once again my dinner was scattered far and wide. At this stage I gave up, binned the lot and made a cheese sandwich.

So wish me luck as I head off to the kitchen.............

Midnight in Vienna - Jane Thynne

“Someone had crashed their car inside the Admiralty Arch – the folly of trying to manoeuvre a large Austin 7 through such a narrow space alongside a bicycle. Voices were raised indignantly, a man was shouting and the traffic was backing up…….not far away from this commotion Hubert Newman made his way erratically along Pall Mall…”

This is the opening of Midnight in Vienna and within a few pages Hubert Newman is dead.

It is 1938 and Stella Fry has returned to London from Vienna where she has been living and working. She has had a love affair which has come to an end when she discovers her lover is joining the Socialist Party…

“What does it matter what I believe? It doesn’t change who we are’.

‘I think it matters what you believe”

She is now home, out of work and sharing a flat with Evely Lamont an actress friend.

“although actual fame eluded her she had met Edith Evans and Margaret Lockwood and could imitate both with perfect mimicry. She had taught herself to hold a cigarette like Bette Davis and she studied Vogue like the bible”

Stella had spent her time in  Vienna as a private tutor before the Austrian family she worked for, and whose children she loved, had decided to leave and seek safety in New  York. She

could speak three languages, had a Royal typewriter, no job and a broken heart and she knew that generous though Evelyn was she needed to find work.

She then sees an advertisement in the Times ‘author seeks typist’. The author is Hubert Newman a famous writer of detective stories. They lunch at the Athenaeum and he finds her knack of "spot the mistakes" perfect for the job. This particular manuscript is a departure from the norm.

“the fact is that this book is not a detective novel at all. It is a literary investigation. It is called Masquerade. I decided to apply my skills as a sleuth to investigate all the alternative candidates for the ‘real' Shakespeare”

He offers her the job and promises to send her the manuscript immediately. The next morning Stella is shocked to hear of his death and then twenty four hours later the manuscript arrives with the dedication;'

'To Stella, spotter of mistakes.

The story has two main protagonists so we are now introduced to Harry Fox, formerly of Special Branch, brilliant at surveillance, suspended for some undisclosed mistake and now a Watcher.  It is quite amusing to read that his job is to follow possible subversives such as Auden and Orwell and spends most of his days following his targets.   He has his own reasons for being interested in Hubert Newman. He approaches Stella Fry to share his belief that the writer's death was no accident.

I admit that when I first started reading this book I was not immediately captivated as I have been with the author’s Clara Vine books, but I still found I could not put it down and it slowly drew me in until I was intrigued enough to carry on and read it in one sitting.

The story shifts between Vienne and London and Jane Thynne captures perfectly the atmosphere of pre- war Europe and its uncertainties.  She is very much at home in this milieu. Oddly enough after reading Midnight in Vienna I watched a programme about the director David Lean and his earlier films made in black and white.  I realised that when I pictured the scenes and characters in Midnight in Vienna, as I do when reading,  it was the  style of Lean with his sharply defined cinematography  that came to mind and fitted perfectly with my inner vision of this story. The atmosphere created was almost film noir.

I love Jane Thynne’s writing.  I constantly repeat myself when I say  how much I appreciate clean writing, straightforward narrative no frills or furbelows – a style of writing which is a pleasure to read and which flow continuously. This title, along with others I have read by this author, exhibits all of the above and by the end I found myself totally involved with the characters.   It seems, by the slightly open ended finale, that this is the start of a series and I am already looking forward to the next one.

But oh please, if I am not being too greedy,  may we have another Clara Vine?

Anne Bronte - Tenant of Wildfell Hall

After my re-read of Jane Eyre and watching two tv/film adaptations of same I decided to have another perusal of the Tenant of Wildfell Hall. I also found that the 1996 adaptation was available on Amazon Prime so I gave that another go and enjoyed it just as much the first time around.  It would be good to have a more up to date version though I dread to think how it would be handled now to be honest.

So a bit of a Bronte month BUT I hasten to add, there will be no going back to Wuthering Heights which I freely confess I loathe.  Why anybody should view Heathcliff as a hero is totally beyond me. I blame the old Olivier/Merle Oberon film of years ago with Laurence O looking all Byronic and glam when in reality Heathclifee was, in my opinion anyway,  a pyschopath. The entire book is full of people with the most god awful characters without one redeeming feature amongst them.   I have always found Emily to be a bit of a pain. Charlotte seemed to hold her in great admiration (or was it fear? would not be surprised).

I sometimes want to shake for her so called bravery when dying when I think she was being plain selfish and an exhibitionist.  Others may weep at the thought of this strong woman staggering around the rooms clutching the furniture and refusing to see a doctor, thus ensuring the maximum amount of suffering for those who had to witness it all. Then the final collapse on the sofa and Charlotte rushing in with a piece of gorse from her beloved moors so she could smell it before she died.  Yes and call me cynical if you like, I don't mind.

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, is the story of an abusive marriage to a drunken husband and Anne used Branwell's behaviour and appalling end as her model for Arthur Huntingdon.  Her family were not happy with the book and did not want it published but Anne stuck to her guns and Tenant was issued.   Critics have said it is clumsy and uneven but I disagree.  I know that the first and last sections are in the first person of Gilbert, a young farmer who persists in his
attentions to Helen Huntingdown when she moves to Wildfell Hall with her young son and refuses to be rejected until she hands him her diary to explain her situation.  The majority of the novel is then Helen's narrative and it does come as a bit of a bump when we jump back to Gilbert towards the denouement. However, I think it is a wonderful book and the more I have read it the more I have appreciated it and I now have a huge admiration for Anne. 

After Anne’s death Charlotte tried to stop Tenant of Wildfell Hall being republished as she disapproved of the subject matter.  A bit rich from somebody who wrote about a heroine who fell in love with a man who had a mad wife in the attic.

As the years have gone by and I have re-read both Jane Eyre and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall many times, I have re-evaluated them both and I have come to the conclusion that Tenant is the greater book.  I sometimes wonder if Charlotte maintained the “quiet Anne” the “meek Anne” idea because, deep down, she realised that her younger sister was perhaps the greatest writer of them all....

Jane Eyre - film and tv versions

I recently re-read Jane Eyre after some years and, once again, found myself totally engrossed with it.  I first read it when I was about eleven and enjoyed the first part, and cried at the death of Helen Burns, but could not really grasp the rest. I then tackled it again as a teenager and got further with it, but it was not until I read it in my twenties that I understood the wonderful moment when Jane claims equality with Rochester. Never fails to make my hair stand on end and, at the time it was published, ground breaking.

There have been many films and tv productions of the novel and, out of interest I decided to check out Amazon and see just how many there are.

First of all, there were three BBC versions.  One I have never seen is the first with Sinead Cusack as Jane and her Rochester a very young Michael Jayston.  I may get hold of this out of sheer curiousity.  I rather liked the Timothy Dalton, Zelah Clarke one which I remember very well and, of course, the latest one which I thought was wonderful, even if they did muck about with Charlotte's words, as I found Toby Stephens just right as Rochester and Ruth Wilson quite heartbreaking and vulnerable as Jane (I just watched this again this week and still think it is terrific though rather spoiled by the chocolate box ending).

Then various film versions (love the blonde one on the left!)  The Wells/Fontaine one had the impossibly beautiful young Elizabeth Taylor playing Helen Burns which is pretty mind boggling.  The John Hurt, Charlotte Gainsbourgh version was of monumental dullness with Hurt totally charisma free as Rochester.

Next up, George C Scott, totally over the top and a gormless Susannah York portrayal.  On the right, Samantha Morton looked the part but did not shine and her Rochester, Ciaran HInds, who I thought would have been excellent, seemed curiously lacking somehow.  This version, from ITV, also had Elle McPherson as Blanche Ingram.  Enough said I think.

Much though I love the Toby Stephens one I have to say that I think my favourite out of all of them is the one with Fassbender as Rochester and Mia Wasikowska as Jane. I think it is absolutely perfect and the final scene, though it ends very quickly, is wonderful.  The wordless joy of their reunion is spot on. And it has the bonus of Judi Dench as Mrs Fairfax.

Has anybody else got any favourites or comments on the above?

It is odd that as winter gets nearer I find I always want to sit down with a good Victorian novel. I can never work out why...                           

The King's Loot: The Greatest Royal Jewellery Heist in History - Richard Wallace

There is a line in Godfather III when Michael Corleone says "just when I think I am out they drag me back in".   I feel the same way about the Duke and Duchess of Windsor. Just when you think all that could be said has been said, another book arrives and this one landed on my door mat a week or so ago.

The King’s Loot was serialised in one of the tabloids.  It is always misleading to read the serialisation of a book in the newspapers. The paper in question will always focus on the more sensational aspects of the story which will catch the reader’s attention.

In the case of The Kings Loot, subtitled The Greatest Royal Jewellery Heist in History, the excerpts pre publication would lead us to believe that the narrative would centre on the robbery of the jewels of the Duchess of Windsor when she and the Duke were on a visit to England.  This particular robbery has always attracted attention and it was never solved, though one of the investigating officers was adamant that he knew who the thief was and never let up in his efforts to prove it.

The Duchess, for some reason unknown to anybody but herself, had not placed her astonishing collection in the safe of the house in which she and her husband were staying, but insisted on  keeping the trunk under her bed.   The theft took place and the surrounding furore and publicity was wide and damaging. Some pieces were found scattered over the local countryside leading the police to believe that it was an opportunistic crime and the thieves panicked and fled dropping some of the loot on the way.

The Duchess insisted it was an inside job and demanded that all the staff be grilled and investigated much to the annoyance of her hosts the Earl and Countess of Dudley. Wallis behaved with her usual lack of grace and, as always, had a tone deaf attitude regarding how she appeared. Her quote during this visit that "a fool would know that with tweeds or other daytime clothes one wears gold and with evening clothese one wears platinum" did not endear her to the public or engeder much sympathy for her loss.

The insurance was claimed and paid and yet for years it was generally felt that this was a scam on the Windsor’s part in order to obtain money which which they were permanently obsessed.

So purchasers of The King’s Loot would be forgiven for thinking that this would be an in depth discussion of the robbery and its background but, in fact, it merely is one small part of the narrative. The blurb adds to this impression and also emphasises the sale of the jewellery of the Duchess after her death. This sale took place in Geneva in 1987 and we are told that “the staid Swiss town is awash with limousines, journalists and minor European aristocracy. All the best hotels are bursting at the seams. Caviar truffles and foie gras are in short supply while champagne is flooding the market at ridiculously high prices”

 We are treated to the life story of the auctioneer ‘the debonair Nicholas Rayner’ how he suffers from nerves “but even he as he drew aside the curtains that Thursday morning in the pokey little room he occupied at the Hotel de la Paix (after releasing his sumptuous suite as a favour to an old client with deep pockets) and gazed at the majestic saw toothed snow capped Alps, must have realised that this was likely to be the most incredible event in the lives of a lot of people”

This overwrought and fanciful writing sets the tone of this book.   The actual ‘heist’ is buried in the middle of a repetitive narrative which merely retells the story of Edward and Mrs Simpson, the jewels he purchased for her (the author references Suzy Menzies excellent books on the Royal jewels extensively) and merely repeats what is in the public purview and has been for some time in other books and biographies of this couple as is clear from the bibliography. The books listed cover the lives of the Windsors and I appear to have read most of them.

This is history lite.  I am not a snob when it comes to history or biography but I did weary after a while of the author’ style:

“assured the collection (her luggage)  was safely installed in her suite upstairs Wallis collapsed into a chair in front of a blazing log fire and covered her face with her hands”

On the reading of the will of George V:

“A blazing fire in the salon at Sandringham had been stoked for the occasion. Edward was late. He strode confidently towards the others, past the grand piano and plethora of plotted plants. Everyone rose: the King kissed his mother, winked at Wigram”

This is pure fiction. How does the author know Wallis collapsed or that the King winked?   This hyperbole merely adds verisimilitude to an bald and unconvincing narrative.

I really dislike being negative about a book, I really do but my lack of patience while reading gradually increased the further I read. I checked the biography of Richard Wallace and it seems that he has been expelled or threatened with expulsion from most of the institutions he has been associated with. Almost thrown out of University, ejected from the House of Commons press gallery for reading a book during a particularly dull debate (I can sympathise with him here) and threatened with ejection from Wimbledon press seats.

It seems to me that Mr Wallace has written a book daring us to find it and him annoying.  I am sure he will be delighted to find that, as far as I am concerned, he has succeeded.

Cosy Random

I have done very little reading of pith and moment this summer. I find that I can sit and concentrate more in the autumn and winter. I remember at school thinking how foolish it was to have to sit exams in July when the weather was hot (well sometimes….)

Anyway, I am back from my cruise and then had a week in Suffolk which was lovely and now I am sitting here and feel that perhaps I ought to post else you will all feel I have vanished into the ether.

My topic today is ‘cosy crime’. Now, let’s face it, this is an oxymoron. Crime is nothing but cosy, it is disturbing and brutal and yet this genre has begun and flourished.   I gather that the supposed doyenne of cosy crime is Dame Agatha Christie and I am pretty sure she would not be happy to be so designated.   Of course, it is because of Miss Marple living in St Mary Mead and solving mysteries because the murderer reminds her of the fishmonger or the butcher who used to cut up their produce in an odd way, etc etc.

There is nothing cosy about Miss Marple, she is as sharp as a tack and can see right through deception and lies. One of my favourite Marple quotes is ‘it is very dangerous to believe what people say. I gave it up years ago’

OK so what cosy authors are there?

Richard Osman has latched onto this with his Thursday Club crime series where the murders are solved by a bunch of old codgers in a home.   I attempted to read the first one and half way through decided I had better things to do, like make a cup of tea or mow  the lawn, and I gave up. I thought it was poorly written, derivative and boring and we all know it got published because he is a ”Sleb”. Thousands will disagree with me and that is ok. Being made into a film now which I shall have to see because amongst the cast list is Pierce Brosnan who unfairly gets sexier as he gets older, and Helen Mirren who is my role model. Well I try.

So many books are now described as cosy crime that it is difficult to choose which to sample. I have tried a lot, binned half of them as the writing was execrable, but others I have thoroughly enjoyed.   So here are a few that I recommend but, of course, feel free to disagree.

T A Williams.  I bought one of his books for 99p on Kindle. It was classified as a light romance and set in Italy and I thought OK that sounds fun and it was. I read several others.  My initial thought was that his name was a nom de plume and no man could possibly show a woman’s thoughts and feelings during a love affair. Of course, I know this is sexist. There are male writers who pen for Mills & Boon but they use a female name as otherwise nobody would buy them.  So I had my doubts.    But then he started a brand new series featuring a retired Scotland Yard police inspector who settles in Tuscany with his labrador, Oscar, and sets up a detective agency.

When I queried on Twitter why he started this series his reply was along the lines of ‘well I started romancing them all and now I am killing them off’

They are witty and amusing and Oscar the dog is a star and the plotting is spot on. All in lovely settings with lovely food too. I have just finished the latest Murder in Portofino and thoroughly enjoyed it. Check him out on Amazon and do try them. They are listed as Armstrong and Oscar Cozy (with a z this time) mysteries.  Enormous fun.

Jane Bettany. I picked up a paperback (one of those 3 for £6 offers) along with another couple of titles because it was called Murder at the Book Festival. Could not resist that naturally, Violet Brewster, divorced and in her forties, has settle in a quiet village (NOT St Mary Mead but a close approximation) and before she knows it finds herself involved in murder which she manages to solve before the police. Natch.  

Again, well written and great fun.  She has also written others featuring Detective Isabel Blood, which I have on my Kindle but yet to read.

Fiona Veitch Smith.  Clara Vale has inherited a house plus a detective agency from her uncle after his death. Clara is an unsatisfactory daughter from her mother’s point of view who wishes to see her married and settled. Clara went to university and studied science, a terribly unladylike thing to do in the 1920’s the period in which this book is set and she is delighted at thie opportunity to leave her family and move to Newcastle and live an interesting, exciting and independent life.I did like these.   The three Clara Vane books are the Picture House  Murders, the Pantomime Murders and the Pyramid Murders. She also has another series featuring Poppy Denby and I have these listed to investigate.

Kate Hardy is a romance writer who has written over 100 books for Mills & Boon and has now turned her hand to mystery.   As she is still writing romantic novels and has the time to add another string to her bow, I am amazed at how she does it.

Her detective is Georgina Drake, another divorcee of mature years, who goes to live in a village (again NOT St Mary Mead). She lets out her barn as a holiday cottage and at the end of a tenancy goes to clean it up and finds the current holiday maker dead on the floor. There is a twist to these books which I am not going to give away and I found them quirky and interesting. I reviewed Kate’s first book The Body at Rookery Barn here. There are others and, once again, they are on my Kindle and I shall be reading them. So nice to have books waiting for one.

The next author on my list is Frances Lloyd.   Amazon, knowing my penchant for crime, offered me two box sets at £1.99 each of the Jack Dawes mysteries.   I bought one set, read the first story and immediately logged back on and bought the second set before they hoiked the price up.  I was very glad I did.

Now these stories are not quite cosy. Neither are they hard hitting or brutal or filled with violence so I am including them in this list as I think the story lines are good, well written and the characters are fun. Jack has a wife called Coriander (she is a chef and really with that name could she be anything else?) and is friends with the wife of the Chief Superintendent who tries to make Jack’s life difficult, as they all do in these kind of stories. She and her friends interfere and suss out clues etc but the main thrust of the story is with Jack and they are really good. An eleventh title came out earlier this year and I bought it straight away as I enjoyed them so much.

Come the colder weather and I may plunge into deeper, darker reading. Or perhaps not. As I get older I find I prefer reading books that make me feel happy and relaxed. I honestly find modern fiction not to my taste. Mark you, I never have it is not something that has come with age.

I think I mentioned in my last post that I have also been reading a shedload of Regency Romances by Mary Balogh and I am working my way through her entire ouevre. There are a lot and they are extremely well written, not frothy at all and I have so say that the sex scenes almost put me to the blush.

Almost….

Random Norway - I am back

I am back from the fjords and sitting here looking at the usual British grey skies and rain. I am sure that when we look back at our childhood we view it with nostalgia and, perhaps, false memories, but honestly I can remember so many sunshine days on the beach or in the country and all we have now is endless dreariness. So dispiriting. No wonder the beaches are heaving with humanity when the sun does deign to shine. We need to grab it when we can.

Well I must not complain as I have had the most wonderful week cruising down the Norwegian fjords.  I went on a Solo trip and freely admit that I was very nervous about it all but in the end I need not have worried.   I have travelled with this company before (albeit on the company that they took over after it went into administration) and, as with my trip to Australia, the ship, the service, the crew and everyone on board were friendly and helpful.   Ambassador Cruises look after the solo travellers and arrange meetings etc for them so everyone has a chance to make friends. I was on a table of ten in the dining room and after a couple of nights of getting to know each other were firm friends by the end of the voyage with lots of laughter and fun.

Oh the scenery. My goodness me.  Almost impossible to find words to describe the breathtaking beauty of the fjords. Sailing along with towering mountains on either side, cascading waterfalls and the colour and beauty of the lakes and oceans.

Every day when I awoke to this beauty I remembered the psalm which says “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help”. It takes a lot to render me speechless, as many can testify, but the glory of the fjords managed it.

One of the trips out was to visit a glacier which, I gather, is in danger of vanishing completely within the next few years as it is slowly melting.   A coach drive and then we all got in ‘troll cars’ which were more or less golf carts and were whisked up hill round and round a winding road. I was slightly worried when I noticed that our driver was using one hand on the wheel and was lying back in his seat displaying a laid back insouciance but he had obviously done this hundreds of times before so no worries.

We then arrived as far as we could go and another walk of half a mile uphill was in front of us. I was a tad worried how my new hip would manage and was delighted to see that I had no problems.   My knee ached a bit though….

I felt a great sense of accomplishment when I made it. Coming down was a tad more wearing on the knee cap and I was glad to find that when we got back to the main area tea, coffee and cakes were awaiting us.

One of the best days though there were many, and when I checked and noted I had done 13,000 steps and walked five miles I felt even better.

I am going to insert photos into this post – I have made a couple of collages to fit in as many as possible – and you will see just how glorious it was.

I am now contemplating another solo cruise and have in mind one that goes round the British Isles, including the Shetlands, Scilly Isles and Guernsey.  As I have grown older the lure of hot sunshine and a golden beach, lovely though they are, holds less charm for me. Mountains and lakes and wild scenery are now my preferences.

Oh and as this is a book blog, I should say that I read a lot of books on my new paperwhite, all of which were light hearted and fun reads more attuned to my holiday spirit. Hardly a week for Tolstoy or Dostoevsky…..

Random Fjords

Here I sit in the lounge of the ship, Ambience, and having had my breakfast and totally unable to drink the awful instant coffee in the buffet restaurant, I now have a cappucino with an extra shot and all is good.  I am going on an outing later today, up a glacier no less, and am having a quiet morning.

I have nothing but good things to say about the staff and crew on board who are, without exception, friendly, polite,smiling and helpful no matter what time of the day it is. I had a problem with a vent in the air conditioning in my cabin last night which was making an awful noise and within ten minutes of reporting it an engineer turned up and fixed it. In the ten minutes reception called twice to say that he would be there soon. I also noted, presumably as I am a solo traveller, that when he arrived he was accompanied by a woman member of staff which I thought was sensible.

I had some doubts about solo travelling but these have now been put to rest.   Solo peeps are well looked after and I have found fellow solos and it is all most enjoyable. I will have no fears about doing it again and hearing tales from other solo traveller is a real eye opener.

So the fjords. First day of the trip was at sea and then berthing on the coast and it was quite dull to be honest. But then we turned into the fjords and oh my goodness the sheer beauty takes ones breath away.   Simply glorious.  

I am having difficulty in uploading photos, not sure the onboard wifi can deal with it so my apologies. I will rectify this on my return.