Random Jottings

Two from Headline

Well, as promised, I have not forgotten you and let's review a book or two which is, after all, what this blog is all about even if I do go off on tangents about drives to London and nappy changing.

Have read a few thrillers/detective stories recently some of which were pretty poor so will not write about them, but some have been really good and enjoyable. So here goes.

Headline Books have been sending me quite a few books over the last few months and I have to be honest, they are nearly all by authors I have never heard of, but after the stunning debut novel The American Devil by Oliver Stark a month or two ago, reviewed here, I am now checking even more closely those that are sent to me by this publishing house.

First up, Moscow Sting by Alex Dryden.    A former British spy, Finn, is assassinated by the Russians and his widow, a former KGB Colonel, Anna, disappears with their child.  MI6, CIA and the KGB are all desperate to find her as she is the only person who knows the identity of a  mole in the KGB. She goes into hiding in the depths of rural France but her cover is blown when Logan Halloran, ex-CIA agent turned trader of secrets, wines and dines a French contact who lets slip that an important defector is under their protection.  He tracks her down, photographs her and then sends these photos to all three agencies, touting for the highest bidder.   Anna and her child are now in danger and have to flee but where will they go?

This is all exciting stuff, cat and mouse, double and treble agents, you don't know who you can trust and it is a real page turner.  Another narrative thread running through the story is the gunning down by a highly trained sniper of various Russian billionaires with Kremlin connections.  How does this tie in with the search for Anna?

Read through at a sitting and thoroughly enjoyed, I felt it ended rather suddenly but then checked the inside of the book, which I had not done before, and realised that there was a pre-story about Finn and Anna which came before and this is obviously a series, hence the open end.  I can recommend this as a tight, intriguing and exciting thriller and I am certainly looking forward to the next one.  Headline Books please note....

The second title from Headline is the rather oddly named The Day of the Jack Russell by Bateman. Yes, just Bateman, the author does not appear to have a first name...

The hero of this story, if he can be so identified as he is anything but heroic, is Mystery Man. Yep, no name either.  He runs a bookshop specialising in mystery novels but he has a sideline of fighting crime as a private eye.  An airline mogul comes into his shop (as this is set in Ireland the thought that it might be modelled on the head of Ryan aAir crossed my mind), who is furious that vandals are spraying rude graffiti over his advertising billboards (can't be the head of Ryan Air, he is such a cheapskate he never pays for advertising boards though if he did I am sure that many of his disgruntled passengers would quite happily vandalise them) and he hires Mystery Man to track them down.

With the help of his shop assistant Jeff, who works for him on a part time basis as his real job of saving political prisoners for Amnesty International doesn't pay very well, and his pregnant girlfriend Alison they track down the two graffiti artists.  As they had put themselves on You Tube and were obviously not very bright, this presents no problems but then they are found murdered and the case takes on a much more serious aspect.

If I tell you that a stuffed Jack Russell which may or may not be hiding a secret and MI6 are involved in this total farrago of nonsense, you will get a feel for this book.  It is very funny and events get hopelessly tangled and, once again as in Moscow Sting, though much more lightheartedly, we have double and treble agents involved and nobody quite knows what is going on, or what they are doing.  In fact, when I had finshed The day of the Jack Russell I was not sure I really knew either...

So far so good, witty, engaging and well written and I enjoyed it very much.  My only caveat and I have to mention this, is that Batemen seems a tad too pleased with himself. I have the feeling he writes each line, reads it and is overcome with his own wit and I think he has to be careful not to be too much of a smart arse, to be frank.  He is teetering on the brink at the moment though I hasten to add that this is only my opinion and others may, and probably do, disagree.

But, both really enjoyable reads and I liked them.

OK that has caught up on a couple.  Two by EF Benson and the latest Camilla Lackberg to review in the next few days.  And another from Headline arrived yesterday so will be taking alook at that as well.

Au reservoir.

Busy busy busy

Dear Readers I feel I am neglecting you.  I have a heap of books that I must write about. There are lots of lovely comments from you all I wish to respond to and I will, I promise.  This week I am charging about like a lunatic and am off to London again today to look after the divine Florence for the afternoon.  I have settled it with Helen that I will motor up once a week so she can have some time to herself and I will be free to worship, coo and chat to my granddaughter.  Of course this week, as you all know and because I am sooo pleased with myself I am telling everybody (again), I drove up to the City on Tuesday and back on Wednesday and am feeling that perhaps that was a tad too much, but never mind.  Next week my daughter Kathryn is in Colchester before departing these shores ('sob') and we will be roaring up and down the A12 again but I am not complaining about that.  She will be spending time with her family until 14th June when she catches her flight and I have cleared my diary for those last precious days. 

Last couple of months have been pretty shattering and got to get through the next and regroup now that my mother has gone and Kathryn departing and, in this regard, I am rather happy that the World Cup is on as its highs (every other football team taking part) and its lows (the England team) will take my mind off things.  Then of course there is Wimbledon where I can also get involved with the highs (every other tennis player on earth) and its lows (all the British players, including Andy Murray - and yes I know he is Scottish) and so for the last two weeks of June and first week of July I intend to spend most of my time on the sofa.

Mem:  will be leaving sofa when Sue Barker starts positing if Andy Murray can win Wimbledon and discusses it with John McEnroe who, to give him credit, always answers politely and courteously when inside he must be thinking 'O my god here we go again - you cannot be SERIOUS!'   We know Andy Murray can win Wimbledon, question is Will and When?   I will also leave sofa before Tim Henman appears as he is Mogadon Man when it comes to commentating and talking with a voice on one level that he really should market and use for insomniacs.  Nice guy though.

The World Cup reminds me that when it was last played out, four years ago, I started Random Jottings (no connection I assure you).  Cannot believe the time has gone so quickly. I remember writing a post about England's first match, David Beckham was then captain, and I had gone to Cambridge in the morning  to visit a shop called Bravissimo which provides support for 'women of a traditional build' (up top anyway) and then drove home along the M11 on what turned out to be one of the hottest days of the year. Got back to Colchester in time to watch the game (we won - just) and then for some reason beyond telling wrote a post which I foolishly called 'Bras, Boobs and Beckham' trying to be clever and alliterative.   When I checked my stats the next day I could not believe the number of hits I had had on this little piece, and then I checked where they came from.  Well, all I can say is there are some very weird people in this world..............

I changed the title immediately.

A Drive to London and the Opera

I have just returned from London where my friend Rosemary and I went to Covent Garden to see La Fille du Regiment at Covent Garden.  I have just posted a review over on Random Music so please do nip over and have a read and you will see what a simply glorious, wonderful, enchanting evening we had from start to finish.  Here is a link to my post.

We had decided to stay overnight this visit as it is always a mad dash afterwards to get a taxi to Liverpool Street and get on the late train, named the Vomit Comet for reasons I am sure I have no need to explain, and this can rather take the edge off the evening.  Rosemary has very bad arthritis so we decided this time we would splurge on a hotel and this was booked.  All this was arranged some time ago and as it got closer to the date, it became clear that Rosemary was going to find using public transport rather difficult so I had a think.  I am now used to going up and down to London to see my gorgeous granddaughter and getting quite blase about it all compared to my panics when I first started these trips and so I decided I would be really bold and brave and we would drive to London.  I found a hotel which has a car park and booked us in and got a really good deal - £107 bed and breakfast for the two of us and this slap bang in Russell Square in central London and we were good to go.  I mapped out a route and found out that instead of turning off the Mile End Road as I usually do, I could continue straight on and I would find myself in the City of London, and from there I knew my way to Russell Square in Bloomsbury, in which area I spend many teenage years and lived in a flat nearby. 

OK in theory until you actually have to drive into central London it can be a bit hairy, off we went and traffic was pretty horrendous, but the benefit of this was that I hardly ever got out of second gear and I had time to see ahead where I was going and to double check which turning I needed to take. Missed on a couple of occasions but as I knew the back doubles of the City I was able to nip up a side street and find my way through.   We arrived safely, I parked the car, we checked in and then flopped on the bed feet up drinking tea and chomping on biscuits before time for a meal and then off.

Drive back today was easy peasy except for one tricky moment when I came to a well know spot where Threadneedle Street, Bank, Poultry and Cornhill all meet in front of Mansion House and had to negotiate several sets of traffic lights etc etc.  In the end I just thought sod it, put my foot down and went as I was dithering about like a panic stricken virgin and delighted to say that I managed to cut up a taxi, which filled me with delight as they had been doing it to me all morning.

Arrived home safely and keep contemplating with wonder the fact that I, Elaine Simpson-Long, she of the panics and the jitters when contemplating road trips, has actually managed to do this.  I am flown with pride and so pleased with myself that I can barely get through the door my head has swollen to such monumental proportions.

In fact, so confident am I now that we have decided that next time we go to the theatre or the opera I will drive us in again.

Can't believe I just said that...........

Monday Ramblings from Grumpy Old Woman of Colchester

Gosh it is hot hot hot.   Up to a few years ago I loved the sun and loved beach holidays but now am not sure that I feel the same way.  Sitting in the shade with a cool drink and a book seems more preferable to me nowadays.   I had to go into town this morning to do some errands, I normally avoid going in as much as possible, but there are times when it just has to be done and of course, it had to be today when the sun was beating down.   Apart from the traffic and the dust and dirt to contend with (and I keep reminding myself to be thankful that I am not commuting and stop moaning Elaine), we have to face the emergence of the White Limbed Brit from its winter hibernation.

Before I go any further, I wish to make it quite clear that I do not in any way regard myself as a slim super model type.   60+, carrying some extra weight and not exactly under endowed in all respects, I have nothing to boast about in that area, but, and it is a big but, I try to dress according to my mature years and to the climate.  Women of a certain age, big boobed and big bellied have no business wearing ra ra skirts up their backsides, t-shirts with no bras and flip flops.   Men of a certain age, big boobed and big bellied have no business striding around town in knee length shorts of hideous hue and pattern, coupled with dirty trainers and coloured socks, with either their shirts open or not wearing any at all, so that their white slug like embonpoint is exposed to all and sundry.

Then there are the teenage boys, also exposing their pigeon chests, baseball caps on back to front accompanied by teenage girls who seem to be walking down the street in their bra and knickers with little legs teetering on high heels that look lethal to me.

OK yes I am in Grumpy Old Woman of Colchester mode, no need to tell me, but I do find all this parade of white flab acutely distressing. I am the possessor of white flab, I freely admit, but I keep it covered up as I have no wish to frighten the horses and I cannot understand how some of these people I saw parading this morning thought that they looked in any way attractive.

Oh well, enough Elaine enough...

Came home and have spent most of the afternoon on the sofa with all the windows open and a gentle zephyr floating through the flat (and flies and a wasp or too but I must not repine) and am feeling rested now. Noticed that we have a new little family of cygnets on the lake just round the corner from me and I stopped myself from rushing out and taking dozens of pictures as I did last year as they would all look exactly the same, but oh they are soooo sweet and already loads of mums with their children oohing and aahing at them.  Such a joy to see them.

Off up to London tomorrow to the opera and I am driving. Yes driving.  My friend Rosemary who is accompanying me, has very bad arthritis and the journey would consist of taxis, trains and more taxis which she finds very difficult to manage. So we made the decision that we would stay overnight as getting the late train back is very exhausting for her, and then I had a think and tracked down a hotel I knew in Bloomsbury which has a car park and have booked us in there. I have also had to pay the congestion charge for two days which I am cross about but cannot avoid but even with all these related costs, plus petrol, it will still be cheaper than travelling by train and we can go door to door.  So a little bit nervous about the drive but as it is in an area I know well, and my drive to see my lovely Florence takes me not far from the City, I know my way which helps. 

We are going to see La Fille du Regiment with Juan Diego Florez and Nathalie Dessay and so looking forward to it.  It was on TV last Christmas and enormous fun and has had marvellous reviews this week. I saw Juan Diego last year in the Barber of Seville and he was simply wonderful and tomorrow night is going to be just as good. As the cost of tickets and travel would fund a week on the Costa del Sol,  he had better not break a leg or fall ill that is all I can say....

So will be back on Wednesday with a full report of the evening and related matters. Until then, au reservoir.

Precious and Guido

I am sure that neither Alexander McCall Smith or Donna Leon need a review of their books on Random Jottings to help boost their sales which are enormous, and rightly so, but I do like to write about them here.

The Double Comfort Safari Club is the latest No 1 Ladies' Detective Agency and, as with the others in this series, nothing much happens.  Precious Ramotswe is asked to track down a beneficiary of a far away American lady's legacy on a distant safari camp, an old friend thinks her husband is having an affair and asks Precious to investigate and Mme Makatsi's fiance is injured and an unpleasant aunt seeks to supplant her at his bedside.  It rambles along at meandering pace with gentle philosophising along the way, the beauties of Botswana are once more described to us (so endearing that AMS obviously loves this country so much he cannot resist rhapsodising about it in every book), and Precious drinks Red  Bush Tea and drives her new van.

And that's it really.

A Question of Belief by Donna Leon - I had this book for several weeks before I read it. I wanted to save it up as a treat and when I was feeling a bit low a few days ago, I decided the time had come.  Venice is in the midst of a debilitating heatwave and Guido Brunetti decides to take his family to the mountains on holiday and get away from the city.   Before he leaves he has a visit from a friend who works at the Commune and it seems that discrepancies have been occurring at the courthouse involving Judge Luisa Coltellini and an usher, Araldo Fontana, who has worked there all his life and has a faultless track record.   Signore Elletra is asked to see what she can find out while Guido is away. 

He never makes it to the mountains as he is called back to Venice when the usher Fontana is found murdered.   It seems he has a side to his life that nobody knew about and his death migh not be linked to the irregularities at the Courthouse as initially suspected.

As always, Donna Leon recreates the sights and sounds of the Venice where she lives and which she obviously loves so much, the reader sinks back happily into the family life of Guido and Paola. And then there is the food  "Paola answered on the third ring - 'if you can get here in fifteen minutes, there's prosciutto and figs and then pasta with fresh peppers and shrimp'.  'Twenty' he said and hung up.

I have come to the conclusion that when reading either of this series of books, the crime is almost incidental to the ambiance.  I say almost, because it is not quite there yet in the Donna Leon books and they still have a sharper edge, but the No 1 Ladies' Detective Agency stories definitely appeal to me because of the comforting and relaxing background, we know nothing nasty is going to happen and that we can sink back and just enjoy.  

I have bracketed these two books together because both these authors have created characters who are as far away from the embittered, maverick detectives normally found in so much crime fiction nowadays.  Good to find a nice kind warmhearted lady like Precious Ramotswe.  Good to find a detective who loves his wife and children.  Good to read.

Unpleasant and uncalled for

Every time I read one of Elizabeth George's Inspector Lynley books I ask myself why I persevere with this series as I find the character of Tommy Lynley, the sub fusc Sir Peter Wimsey so irritating.  Of course, I have read them all now and, no matter how I might feel, I have this compulsion to carry on and find out what happens and I can't stop.

The last one in the series, Careless in Red, had Lynley walking along the Cornish coast trying to get over the murder of his wife Helen.  The book before that was titled What Happened before he Shot her which must be one of the clumsiest titles ever, and told the story of the 12 year old who actually pulled the trigger and was so totally unreadable that even I gave up on this one.  Shouldn't say it I know, but the aforementioned Helen was one of the most irritating, whiny self absorbed characters I have come across and the thought that we would no longer have to put up with her angst and drama quite cheered me up. Sorry....

Anyway, it is now a year since the death of Helen and Lynley is back at work, but only acting as support to Isabelle Ardery who may be taking over his position.  If I tell you that Isabelle is separated from her husband, is losing custody of her children and has a drink problem, you may feel the same overwhelming sense of boredom creep over you  as I did.  Goes without saying that Lynley and she are attracted to each other and I just could not believe that he would get himself involved with another head case, but no accounting for tastes.   However, give it a chance thought I and was pleased to meet up once more with Barbara Havers and Nkata, two of the more well rounded characters in the George canon who, as usual, do most of the detective work.  A young woman has been brutally murdered in a cemetery and it appears she had recently abandoned her lover of two years in Hampshire and had come running to London to start a new life.  Why did she leave him when they seemed settled and happy - what did she find out?

It is going to be very difficult, in fact well nigh impossible, to talk about the crux of the  reasons for the murder without giving anything away so I am not going to do so.  It is tightly plotted and well thought through, even if it gets a bit confusing at the denouement (as was Careless in Red - still not sure who murdered who in that one), but there was one aspect of the Body of Death that I found really unsettling.   Throughout the book  we read purported excerpts from police and social service reports about an earlier crime. These obviously are there to catch our attention and to let us know that this is somehow linked into the current investigation.   Well that's fine, but the story of this crime is clearly based, almost overwhelmingly so, on a heinous real life crime that took place some ten years ago and has been in the news again recently.  So detailed are these links employed throughout the narrative that it is clear Elizabeth George has done extensive research and I find it vaguely repellent that the author should use these facts and all the anguish and pain involved as a plot device and it has left a nasty taste in my mouth.  In my opinion, she should be ashamed of herself.

This might just be the final straw that makes me give up on these books....

A lovely day

I was not expecting it to be as today was the day my sister, Judith, and I went to scatter mum's ashes.  We have purchased a section in a cemetery underneath a tree. This is the Millennium cemetery so not very old and the trees are now growing beautifully and, as mum loved trees, we thought this would be a good place for her to be.   A gentleman from the Cemetery came along with the urn and the ground had been prepared and we asked him to put the ashes down as neither of us could face doing it.  He was immaculately dressed in a beautiful suit and waistcoat and he was respectful and understanding and did it beautifully.  I found it really distressing to feel that was that and my mum had finally gone and I would never see her again, I almost felt it was wrong to leave her there which is illogical and silly.

It was a beautiful day and so Judith suggested that we take a drive to the sea and we went to Felixstowe, not too far away and she told me there was a lovely bookshop there she knew I would like which cheered me up no end.  So off we went and found the shop, picture below and please note a delightful coffee shop next door where I had one of the best date slices I have ever eaten (in fact it was so substantial I couldn't finish it so wrapped it up and am now eating the rest of it with a cup of tea as I write this).

I bought two books, both with illustrations by Edward Ardizzone who is an illustrator I love, I posted about him some time ago, here.  One was The Little Bookroom by Eleanor Farjeon, a book I loved as a child and really pleased to have a copy of this again. Then Indian Diary 1952-53 where Ardizzone spent time taking part in a seminar for the production of Audio Visual Aids for Education, run by UNESCO.  He kept a diary of his visit and it is illustrated with his own sketches in pencil and ink and I could not resist it.

Then off to another bookshop, fancy Felixstowe having two such gorgeous second hand bookshops, Poor Richard's Books - lovely name for a shop - where my sister struck pay dirt.  We had been discussing the Whiteoaks books by Mazo de la Roche, which we had both read as teenagers and Judith decided to see if she could find any and re-read the entire saga.  Well, she came out with about 19 which is the sort of thing I do, so I felt very pleased with myself that I only emerged with one, a 1934 edition of Sam the Sudden by PG Wodehouse which reduced me to snorts of laughter as I was looking at it in the shop.

These two bookshops are well worth a visit, packed from floor to ceiling with the most wonderful collection of books, and every crook and nanny bulging with glorious titles.  I am already planning a revisit.

Then a drive to a cafe by The Ferry which my mother had visited a couple of times and loved.  Not a high class restaurant, nothing flash, plain wooden floors, simple decor but the fish is landed fresh daily and is absolutely delicious so two cod and chips and cup of tea did us a treat.   Then after lunch, a sit down and look out at the boats and the ferry and then a walk along the beach.  As you can see from the pictures, the sun was shining and it was lovely just to sit and look at the scenery and the blue skies.

  

 
 

My sister has now gone back home but we did enjoy each other's company and both agreed that it had been a wonderful day.   Still cannot believe mum is no longer here, I kept thinking how much she would have enjoyed herself with us watching the sea and the world go by.

Early night tonight I think, I am full of sunshine and sea air and feel nicely tired and tomorrow off to London to see Florence.  Kept away while I was ill and am dying to see her and give her a cuddle.

Au reservoir.

Waterstone's lets its stores choose the books again - Telegraph

Website of the Telegraph Media Group with breaking news, sport, business, latest UK and world news. Content from the Daily Telegraph and Sunday Telegraph newspapers and video from Telegraph TV. Enhanced by Google

via www.telegraph.co.uk

Would be nice if Waterstone's went back to its old ways - their new logo is a bit weird though, meant to be the M upside down in HMV, who own the chain, it just looks like a bum to me...

Cannes Film Festival: BBC film to show Charles Dickens' secret love affair - Telegraph

Website of the Telegraph Media Group with breaking news, sport, business, latest UK and world news. Content from the Daily Telegraph and Sunday Telegraph newspapers and video from Telegraph TV. Enhanced by Google

via www.telegraph.co.uk

This sounds interesting!

Random Rambles

My posting may be sporadic again this week as I have my sister with me and we are sorting out the last few things with my mum's flat and also will be scattering her ashes and that is something I really want done as soon as possible.  I feel as if I am in limbo at the moment and unable to move forward and this has been emphasised by a long chat I have just had with Kathryn regarding her move to Sydney.  She is, quite rightly, getting very excited about it all now that it is only a month away and much though I will miss her, I almost wish she was gone  - cannot seem to plan or see ahead at the moment and it makes me feel very insecure and wobbly.  Two of my main strands in my life, my mother and my elder daughter are both disappearing at the same time and of course, I have Helen and James and Florence, but things are difference and I have to regroup.   I am used to this, two marriages, two divorces, children, moving, living in Australia myself etc etc and I know I can do it again, but as one gets older it gets harder.

Anyway, Elaine Get a Grip and no wingeing.

I have just watched a programme I taped a week ago - The South Bank Show revisited.  One of the best, if not the best arts programmes on ITV, so of course they have axed it, as they did with Foyle's War.  Quality programming is not what the directors of TV companies want any more it seems. Anyway, they are revisiting some of the earlier shows and updating them with new interviews and in the last few weeks they have shown one on Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber, whose music I still find banal but he now seems to have mellowed and become a thoroughly nice chap, a really interesting one on Stephen Sondheim and last night, a gem, a programme all about Dame Judi Dench.  Now I know she hates being categorised as a national treasure but whether she likes it or not, she is and seeing her chat and talk and laugh and giggle that infectious way she has, inter cut with earlier South Bank shows and watching excerpts from various plays and comedy shows in which she has starred, really beguiled me and such fun to see.

There was one marvellous scene showing her in rehearsal for Sondheim's A Little Night Music in which Dame Judi was playing Desiree and had that wonderful song to sing 'Send in the Clowns'  She was rehearsing in what appeared to be an old school gym, she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and a battered old upright piano was accompanying her and she produced a peformance of this song that reduced me, sitting at home, to tears and those in the rehearsal with her, to stunned silence.   Quite breathtaking.

Last night I taped another South Bank Show revisited on Dame Kiri te Kanawa, never one of my favourite singers, beauty of sound yes but total lack of dramatic involvement I always felt, and will be most interested to see if I was being unfair to her and if I might revise my opinion.   Watching these programmes begs the question why have they axed this show? Why?  Answer comes there none...

Au reservoir