Holidays have finally arrived, and after only an hour and a half delay at Birmingham airport I've completed the first leg of the journey to Shetland by getting as far as Inverness. The trip to Shetland has become both more complicated and more expensive since last year (which will continue to piss me off for the foreseeable future).
The stop in Inverness has not been our normal route, but it's proving a lovely way to start a holiday. A quick tea and scone in the tartan carpeted hotel by the station, a good browse around Leaky's splendid second hand bookshop, time to look at the ever increasing array of Scottish gins for sale around the town, buy a bottle of whisky (ostensibly for my father, but I'm sure he won't mind sharing) and finally find some of the plain chocolate Tunnock's tea cakes I owed D from a bet back in March.
It was hard to resist buying books in Leaky's, but we're stopping here on the way back south too, so I'm going to wait...
Meanwhile I think I cracked the Sherry cup conundrum. The Fino I was playing with last week would not make a drink that I felt would have sufficient popular appeal for my work colleges (the intended drinkers). Happily I had a bit of a very good oloroso hanging around so I tried that as well. It was a much better drink.
An altogether more economical alternative was an amontillado (and frankly a decent Oloroso is better enjoyed as it is). Amontillado is generally described as medium, but it's a dry sort of medium, with a nutty kind of flavour. It proved the perfect background for my cup, tying all the other flavours together beautifully.
The basic recipe is 1 part Sherry to 4 parts sparkling water, with Brandy and triple sec to taste, and the all important slither of cucumber, along with plenty of ice. You can use lemonade along with the water if you want something a bit sweeter, and add some summer fruits which makes something not unlike a Pimm's, though not quite as sweet.
I'm very pleased I've finally made this, I really like Sherry both to drink and to cook with, but sometimes struggle to get through a bottle in a timely fashion (it doesn't keep indefinitely, and in the case of a Fino or a manzanilla ought to be drunk within a couple of weeks of opening) turning it into a cup or a cobbler is an excellent way finish off bottles.
Given the popularity of Pimm's and an increasing array of other commercially made alcoholic fruit cups it's strange that we've more or less stopped making these from scratch - it's only a very minimal effort to end up with something tailored to your personal taste, and there's so much variety to be explored - so much more fun than buying something off the shelf.
Saturday, June 30, 2018
Friday, June 29, 2018
The Murder of my Aunt - Richard Hull
There are now two Richard Hull's in in the British Library Crime Classics series, a handful available reasonably cheaply second hand, and a couple more being reprinted elsewhere. I read and really liked Excellent Intentions about a month ago which had been one of his lesser known books (although if you're not a series vintage crime fan, they're all unknown). 'The Murder of my Aunt' was Hull's first book, and the one that had been apparently regarded as his best, and certainly seems to have been the best known.
My personal preference is for 'Excellent Intentions'. I enjoyed the thorough unpleasantness of the victim, the way Hull makes his reader plot through pages of trivia about stamp collecting, and keeps you guessing until the end about which of the unlikely suspects did it. (I don't actually think it's too difficult to guess, but the unlikeliness of at least two of the suspects is fun.) In short, Hull's sense of humour in this book really appeals to me.
'The Murder of my Aunt' has many of the same traits, but is a little bit more troubling. In short there is an incident between the narrator, Edward, and his aunt. She determines he'll make a stiff walk into the village to pick up some books on a hot day, he determines that he won't. In the end she wines after involving half the village in her machinations, and Edward decides that the only answer is to kill her. What follows are a series of attempts that keep going wrong.
Edward is a fairly loathsome character. Lazy, greedy, vain, affected, undisciplined, vengeful, and a supporter of the "virile" Oswald Mosley, as well as a devoted reader of banned French novels. Aunt Mildred seems just as spiteful, given to rages, and mean spirited, though, and if neither seem particularly well balanced, Edward at least has the excuse of youth.
I assume the reader is meant to feel slightly more sympathy for Mildred than Edward, but I didn't, partly because it's also implied that Edward is gay as if that's another character deficiency, partly because she just seems like the sort of woman you would fantasise about murdering if you lived with her - and both of those things nagged at me whilst I read.
Beyond that discomfort about how Edward is portrayed however, there was all the same black humour and sly wit that made 'Excellent Intentions' so enjoyable. The plot feels fresh, the digressions are splendid, and the difficulty in getting rid of troublesome aunts here should relieve troublesome aunts everywhere.
My personal preference is for 'Excellent Intentions'. I enjoyed the thorough unpleasantness of the victim, the way Hull makes his reader plot through pages of trivia about stamp collecting, and keeps you guessing until the end about which of the unlikely suspects did it. (I don't actually think it's too difficult to guess, but the unlikeliness of at least two of the suspects is fun.) In short, Hull's sense of humour in this book really appeals to me.
'The Murder of my Aunt' has many of the same traits, but is a little bit more troubling. In short there is an incident between the narrator, Edward, and his aunt. She determines he'll make a stiff walk into the village to pick up some books on a hot day, he determines that he won't. In the end she wines after involving half the village in her machinations, and Edward decides that the only answer is to kill her. What follows are a series of attempts that keep going wrong.
Edward is a fairly loathsome character. Lazy, greedy, vain, affected, undisciplined, vengeful, and a supporter of the "virile" Oswald Mosley, as well as a devoted reader of banned French novels. Aunt Mildred seems just as spiteful, given to rages, and mean spirited, though, and if neither seem particularly well balanced, Edward at least has the excuse of youth.
I assume the reader is meant to feel slightly more sympathy for Mildred than Edward, but I didn't, partly because it's also implied that Edward is gay as if that's another character deficiency, partly because she just seems like the sort of woman you would fantasise about murdering if you lived with her - and both of those things nagged at me whilst I read.
Beyond that discomfort about how Edward is portrayed however, there was all the same black humour and sly wit that made 'Excellent Intentions' so enjoyable. The plot feels fresh, the digressions are splendid, and the difficulty in getting rid of troublesome aunts here should relieve troublesome aunts everywhere.
Sunday, June 24, 2018
Knitting
I'll be making my annual trip north next week, and not a moment to soon. The prospect of being somewhere where a cool breeze is a given, and where World Cup enthusiasm is at a minimum (the majority of the neighbours are sheep, they have other things to think about) sounds like heaven. As today has been a hot day, and England won their game, there's a considerable crowd of more or less drunk topless men between here and Marks & Spencer's.
For the most part that has meant a procession of startlingly white beer guts wobbling down the street ahead of owners getting steadily redder in the face and across their backs. I'm not sure what will be worse for them tomorrow - the sunburn or the hangovers. I doubt they'll learn much from either.
I've learnt to stay inside as much as possible post match, so have finally made the tassels for my Kep's. I've been putting this off for months assuming for some reason that it would be a fiddly, difficult job. Obviously it isn't, so I at least have learnt something useful today. One kep is for my brother, who I think might wear it (I've seen him wear odder things) the other one for Dad, who when he saw a picture of the one I'd done for Peter, said he'd like one too.
I will admit this seems unlikely to me, he's been decidedly unenthusiastic about the offer of scarfs or cowls, and a kep is quite a sartorial statement, but I made him one anyway. They're fun to knit (apart from the ribbing under the brim, which is incredibly dull to knit), and I think the next one I make will be even longer.
The cowl in greys was to use up some lace weight yarn, and is sort of a swatch to practice stripes. It's soft, lightweight, and inoffensive and a lace pattern that I love, but the greys don't work brilliantly together, and I need to think more about how I put the shades together. Dissatisfactions aside I find these really useful, and I'm basically pleased with this one.
The current cowl on the needles is intended for someone else, but I might end up keeping it because the row of green triangles has been a mistake. They disappear into the grey in a really annoying way. A swatch would have shown me this, but they were an unhappy inspiration in what was originally going to be a two tone thing. I only realised how unhappy after knitting enough more not to want to rip it back. I'm wondering if putting in some more rows of green will make it better or worse.
For the most part that has meant a procession of startlingly white beer guts wobbling down the street ahead of owners getting steadily redder in the face and across their backs. I'm not sure what will be worse for them tomorrow - the sunburn or the hangovers. I doubt they'll learn much from either.
I've learnt to stay inside as much as possible post match, so have finally made the tassels for my Kep's. I've been putting this off for months assuming for some reason that it would be a fiddly, difficult job. Obviously it isn't, so I at least have learnt something useful today. One kep is for my brother, who I think might wear it (I've seen him wear odder things) the other one for Dad, who when he saw a picture of the one I'd done for Peter, said he'd like one too.
I will admit this seems unlikely to me, he's been decidedly unenthusiastic about the offer of scarfs or cowls, and a kep is quite a sartorial statement, but I made him one anyway. They're fun to knit (apart from the ribbing under the brim, which is incredibly dull to knit), and I think the next one I make will be even longer.
The cowl in greys was to use up some lace weight yarn, and is sort of a swatch to practice stripes. It's soft, lightweight, and inoffensive and a lace pattern that I love, but the greys don't work brilliantly together, and I need to think more about how I put the shades together. Dissatisfactions aside I find these really useful, and I'm basically pleased with this one.
The current cowl on the needles is intended for someone else, but I might end up keeping it because the row of green triangles has been a mistake. They disappear into the grey in a really annoying way. A swatch would have shown me this, but they were an unhappy inspiration in what was originally going to be a two tone thing. I only realised how unhappy after knitting enough more not to want to rip it back. I'm wondering if putting in some more rows of green will make it better or worse.
Saturday, June 23, 2018
You can't ignore cucumber, or the search for a good Sherry cup recipe
I have to organise a series of tastings at work for staff and customers next week - the expectation seems to have been something Cocktail based for staff, but it's during the working day. I know from experience that this is A Very Bad Idea both in terms of productivity, and anybody's ability to reliably give the correct change.
The expectation for the customer event is that it will be some sort of gin tasting, but I'm on the fence about that too. I want to go something entirely different - this is just the chance to play around with punches/cups that I've been looking for.
What I really, really, want to do is a Sherry cup, although this recipe for Peach Cup from Ambrose Heath also appeals to me "Prick a large ripe Peach all over with a silver fork, and put it in a pint of champagne." Unfortunately I can't put my hand to a silver fork between now and Monday when the first event takes place, ripe peaches are even more of a challenge (the rock hard things sold as ready to eat will not do) and champagne is undoubtedly out of budget. Another time.
It's Ambrose Heath who I've turned to for Sherry cup recipes as well, he has a couple but only says Sherry - like it's obvious which one I should use - it is not (and this is why I think the silver fork might really matter to the peach). Sherry comes in everything from bone dry and light (Fino) to something that resembles treacle (Pedro Ximenez).
I've asked around and the consensus seems to be that Fino Sherry is the way to go. I have a bottle of Fino in the fridge so I've been experimenting. The results have made me light headed but indecisive. Heath's recipe is for 2 bottles of Sherry, 1/2 a pint of Cognac, 1/4 of a pint of curaçao (I'm subbing it with triple sec) and 3 drops of almond essence all mixed well together, then with a slice of cucumber and 3 or 4 bottles of Soda water.
I've scaled that down to fit in a glass so the proportions are all off - the single, thin, slice of cucumber is really making its presence felt for a start. A second recipe uses lemonade as well as soda water which would add sweetness - so I've also played around with some sugar syrup - and thrown in some fruit because plenty of old recipes call for it.
The result is okay, I like it, but I like my drinks dry, a lot of my colleagues do not. I don't have a pale cream Sherry to try this with but think that might be too sweet. It's all very annoying, and all I can taste now is cucumber anyway. How can anything with so much water in it be such a flavour bully?
Meanwhile there's a plan B. It comes from Arabella Boxer's Book of English Food. She gives recipes for White wine cup (wine, Brandy, elderflower cordial, soda water, cucumber rind) Wine cup (rose wine, Brandy, lemonade, cucumber rind and soda water) or Quaglino cup (champagne, orange juice, Brandy, curaçao, soda water, no cucumber) which is allegedly less alcoholic than a Buck's Fizz. I'll take her word for that, though I think the brandy and curaçao will make up for the extra soda water.
The advantage of going with plan B is that Boxer has already done the hard work so I have a nice, specific, recipe to follow that will make roughly the quantity I need, and is I suspect, adjusted for modern tastes, I don't even have to find a ripe peach, or a silver fork. The down side is that it could be a while before I get another Sherry cup chance and I really feel that done right it could be a winner.
The expectation for the customer event is that it will be some sort of gin tasting, but I'm on the fence about that too. I want to go something entirely different - this is just the chance to play around with punches/cups that I've been looking for.
What I really, really, want to do is a Sherry cup, although this recipe for Peach Cup from Ambrose Heath also appeals to me "Prick a large ripe Peach all over with a silver fork, and put it in a pint of champagne." Unfortunately I can't put my hand to a silver fork between now and Monday when the first event takes place, ripe peaches are even more of a challenge (the rock hard things sold as ready to eat will not do) and champagne is undoubtedly out of budget. Another time.
It's Ambrose Heath who I've turned to for Sherry cup recipes as well, he has a couple but only says Sherry - like it's obvious which one I should use - it is not (and this is why I think the silver fork might really matter to the peach). Sherry comes in everything from bone dry and light (Fino) to something that resembles treacle (Pedro Ximenez).
I've asked around and the consensus seems to be that Fino Sherry is the way to go. I have a bottle of Fino in the fridge so I've been experimenting. The results have made me light headed but indecisive. Heath's recipe is for 2 bottles of Sherry, 1/2 a pint of Cognac, 1/4 of a pint of curaçao (I'm subbing it with triple sec) and 3 drops of almond essence all mixed well together, then with a slice of cucumber and 3 or 4 bottles of Soda water.
I've scaled that down to fit in a glass so the proportions are all off - the single, thin, slice of cucumber is really making its presence felt for a start. A second recipe uses lemonade as well as soda water which would add sweetness - so I've also played around with some sugar syrup - and thrown in some fruit because plenty of old recipes call for it.
The result is okay, I like it, but I like my drinks dry, a lot of my colleagues do not. I don't have a pale cream Sherry to try this with but think that might be too sweet. It's all very annoying, and all I can taste now is cucumber anyway. How can anything with so much water in it be such a flavour bully?
Meanwhile there's a plan B. It comes from Arabella Boxer's Book of English Food. She gives recipes for White wine cup (wine, Brandy, elderflower cordial, soda water, cucumber rind) Wine cup (rose wine, Brandy, lemonade, cucumber rind and soda water) or Quaglino cup (champagne, orange juice, Brandy, curaçao, soda water, no cucumber) which is allegedly less alcoholic than a Buck's Fizz. I'll take her word for that, though I think the brandy and curaçao will make up for the extra soda water.
The advantage of going with plan B is that Boxer has already done the hard work so I have a nice, specific, recipe to follow that will make roughly the quantity I need, and is I suspect, adjusted for modern tastes, I don't even have to find a ripe peach, or a silver fork. The down side is that it could be a while before I get another Sherry cup chance and I really feel that done right it could be a winner.
Thursday, June 21, 2018
What's so wrong with a little mediocrity?
About a month or so ago there was a spirited defence of W. H. Smith as a Bookseller after it came low in a customer satisfaction survey. For what it's worth I like Smiths. My local one has the post office just past the books so I'm in there sort of regularly even though it's in a slightly depressing basement, and there's generallybsomething to be tempted by.
I also followed Lionel Shriver's attack on Penguin's Diversity project, which if nothing else has at least given Penguin's diversity project and Lionel Shriver a whole lot more publicity then they might otherwise have had. There's a whole lot of things to take issue with in Shriver's original article, but the thing that both the storms in a teacup have left me thinking is that not great hooks deserve a bit more appreciation.
The majority of my childhood library must have been made up of Enid Blyton books, they're certainly the ones I have the clearest memories of. I've never revisited them, mostly because I think the magic would be gone for me now, but at the time the books I loved the most were the ones that most closely reflected my own life. If it featured farming, or islands, it was a winner.
I'm also thinking that those Enid Blyton's must have been as formulaic as the Mills & Boons that I used to share with my grandmother. Or maybe they had more in common with the well worn conventions of the golden age detective fiction I've also loved since my early teens when I first found Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers.
Either way there are times, and currently it's most of the time, when what I want to read is something easy, undemanding, and familiar. Maybe even something a little bit trashy - and there's nothing wrong with that. I'm also lucky that as a middling class, middle aged, white woman there's no shortage of books good, bad, and in between, that reflect me back to myself sufficiently to hold my interest.
That's the reason I love Virago Modern Classics, and Persephone books so much -they're reflecting the voices of women more or less like me, back to me. It was so exciting to find those voices, and every one of those books has it's merits, even if I judge some of them to be decidedly mediocre in literary terms. The point is that I want all of those voices to get a full sense of that history, and lucky me - they're increasingly available. Who doesn't deserve to be able to find the same?
I also followed Lionel Shriver's attack on Penguin's Diversity project, which if nothing else has at least given Penguin's diversity project and Lionel Shriver a whole lot more publicity then they might otherwise have had. There's a whole lot of things to take issue with in Shriver's original article, but the thing that both the storms in a teacup have left me thinking is that not great hooks deserve a bit more appreciation.
The majority of my childhood library must have been made up of Enid Blyton books, they're certainly the ones I have the clearest memories of. I've never revisited them, mostly because I think the magic would be gone for me now, but at the time the books I loved the most were the ones that most closely reflected my own life. If it featured farming, or islands, it was a winner.
I'm also thinking that those Enid Blyton's must have been as formulaic as the Mills & Boons that I used to share with my grandmother. Or maybe they had more in common with the well worn conventions of the golden age detective fiction I've also loved since my early teens when I first found Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers.
Either way there are times, and currently it's most of the time, when what I want to read is something easy, undemanding, and familiar. Maybe even something a little bit trashy - and there's nothing wrong with that. I'm also lucky that as a middling class, middle aged, white woman there's no shortage of books good, bad, and in between, that reflect me back to myself sufficiently to hold my interest.
That's the reason I love Virago Modern Classics, and Persephone books so much -they're reflecting the voices of women more or less like me, back to me. It was so exciting to find those voices, and every one of those books has it's merits, even if I judge some of them to be decidedly mediocre in literary terms. The point is that I want all of those voices to get a full sense of that history, and lucky me - they're increasingly available. Who doesn't deserve to be able to find the same?
I expect the books that Penguin's WriteNow mentoring scheme produces will thoroughly deserve their place on any shelf (and also, look at the Peirene Now project for consistently high quality, challenging, and diverse voices) but even if the project produced some decidedly mediocre work - what of it?
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
Murder, Mr Mosley - John Greenwood
I'm not having the best of weeks - my insurance company tried it on with a £300 increase on my annual premium- which they have now mostly knocked off, but which means that next year I'm almost certainly going to have to find the time to get a series of quotes from other companies (not quick, not fun, and not easy to fit in around work). Monday also bought the fun news that Eon electricity failed to put me on the tariff we agreed on last August, and have since been overcharging to a truly eye watering degree.
This should have been flagged in February when they sent a statement which (incorrectly) stated that they owed me £350, then couldn't give me an actual statement based on the meter reading I took, refused to come and do an actual reading themselves, and didn't send the revised statement they promised. Now they want to increase my payment by a whopping 150% and I want them to put me on the tariff we agreed last year and not to pay more than I should have on that. Sorting that out is tomorrow's promised treat - if the resolution team actually call me back. Not holding my breath for this.
Between that and getting thoroughly depressed and angry every time I see or hear a news bulletin I'm feeling at a particularly low ebb. Holidays cannot come quickly enough.
'Murder, Mr Mosley' was an impulse purchase a few weeks ago and is part of the pretty looking Pan reprints of books that mostly seem to be from the 1980's. The covers of these are curious. They have a deliberately nostalgic feel about them that makes you think you're picking up something golden age, or at least 1950's, and feel somewhat disconnected from the contents.
To be fair it's hard to imagine how you could evoke '80's book covers and still appeal to the target audience for these books, but I wish they would try. 'Murder, Mr Mosely' isn't a masterpiece, but it has a certain charm and it made me laugh - I'd definitely pick up another Greenwood for more of the same.
I think this one must be the first in the Mosely series, mostly because it refers to his lack of experience with murder cases, but it feels like it could come half way through which was occasionally irritating (it felt like I'd missed a chapter which explained this or that piece of background, but I hadn't). The plot goes a bit crazy too, but Greenwood's sense of humour and eye for odd details carries it through so that those things don't matter very much, and over all there was a lot to enjoy about this.
The plot, such as it is concerns the return of Brenda Cryer to the village of Parson's Fold, and her subsequent murder. She'd been gone for 17 years, her past is mysterious, and so is the source of her income. Mosley is the local man, more used to dealing with missing fruit and rustled geese, but somehow more on the ball than the extremely up to date Seargeant Beamish, thanks mostly to an extremely efficient network of gossip.
The question is, what has Brenda been up too, does it have anything to do with her murder, and what other connections might the investigation uncover...
Sunday, June 17, 2018
Bodies From The Library - 2018
This was the third Bodies from the Library I've been to (the fourth they've done) and it was excellent. It's a thoroughly well organised event that I'd recommend to anybody with even a passing interest in golden age crime fiction.
Particular highlights for me started with Rachel Reeves MP talking about 'Ellen Wilkinson: MP and Detective Novelist'. I hadn't heard of Ellen Wilkinson before, or at least if I had I hadn't remembered her, it's a shame in either count because she sounded like an amazing woman. Rachel Reeves is writing a book (out in March next year) about women in parliament over the last 100 years that's definitely going on my wish list. I also need to look up Wilkinson's biography.
Ellen Wilkinson was a labour MP from the mid 1920's onwards. She wrote 'The Diviion Bell Mystery' to make some money whilst she was temporarily without a seat. Reeves read it whilst researching her book, and approached the British Library about reissuing it as part of their Crime Classics series after finding it thoroughly entertaining as well as full of details about parliamentary life in the period. It's out in August (although copies were available yesterday) and I'm really looking forward to this one.
Martin Edwards in Richard Hull was interesting too, I really enjoyed 'Excellent Intentions' and will finish 'The Murder of my Aunt' as soon as I've written this post. 'The Murder of my Aunt' was Hull's first book, and is apparently often considered his best - so far I prefer 'Excellent Intentions', but both have a lot to recommend them. The good news about Hull is that more of his titles are drifting back into print in various places so there's going to be plenty more to explore.
Martin Edwards and Tony Medawar discussing the compilation of anthologies sold me 'Bodies From The Library'. This collection comprises previously lost tales of mystery and suspense by Agatha Christie and other masters of the golden age - including a Georgette Heyer, which was the selling point for me. These are mostly things which first appeared in magazines and newspapers, often quite obscure ones, and had since been more or less forgotten about. There's another collection due next year as well.
Jake Kerridge talking about Michael Innes has really made me want to read him too. I certainly used to have some Innes, and am hoping that I didn't send it off to a charity shop during one of those periodic clear outs. If I did at least I can choose a sensible place (near the beginning) to have another go with Innes now I have a better idea of what to expect.
Particular highlights for me started with Rachel Reeves MP talking about 'Ellen Wilkinson: MP and Detective Novelist'. I hadn't heard of Ellen Wilkinson before, or at least if I had I hadn't remembered her, it's a shame in either count because she sounded like an amazing woman. Rachel Reeves is writing a book (out in March next year) about women in parliament over the last 100 years that's definitely going on my wish list. I also need to look up Wilkinson's biography.
Ellen Wilkinson was a labour MP from the mid 1920's onwards. She wrote 'The Diviion Bell Mystery' to make some money whilst she was temporarily without a seat. Reeves read it whilst researching her book, and approached the British Library about reissuing it as part of their Crime Classics series after finding it thoroughly entertaining as well as full of details about parliamentary life in the period. It's out in August (although copies were available yesterday) and I'm really looking forward to this one.
Martin Edwards in Richard Hull was interesting too, I really enjoyed 'Excellent Intentions' and will finish 'The Murder of my Aunt' as soon as I've written this post. 'The Murder of my Aunt' was Hull's first book, and is apparently often considered his best - so far I prefer 'Excellent Intentions', but both have a lot to recommend them. The good news about Hull is that more of his titles are drifting back into print in various places so there's going to be plenty more to explore.
Martin Edwards and Tony Medawar discussing the compilation of anthologies sold me 'Bodies From The Library'. This collection comprises previously lost tales of mystery and suspense by Agatha Christie and other masters of the golden age - including a Georgette Heyer, which was the selling point for me. These are mostly things which first appeared in magazines and newspapers, often quite obscure ones, and had since been more or less forgotten about. There's another collection due next year as well.
Jake Kerridge talking about Michael Innes has really made me want to read him too. I certainly used to have some Innes, and am hoping that I didn't send it off to a charity shop during one of those periodic clear outs. If I did at least I can choose a sensible place (near the beginning) to have another go with Innes now I have a better idea of what to expect.
Wednesday, June 13, 2018
Weekend at Thrackley - Alan Melville
It's the Bodies From the Library conference at the British Library this weekend so I'm catching up with some of the most recent titles in preparation - not that I need either an excuse or any particular motivation to read Alan Melville.
This is the third Melville in the crime classics series (the other two are Quick Curtain and Death of Anton, both of which I really enjoyed), but the first book he wrote. It was enough of a success to more or less change his life (he quite his job in the family business, managed to buy a bungalow he called Thrackley, and took up writing and broadcasting work full time).
There's a Dorothy L. Sayers review of 'Quick Curtain' in which Sayers demonstrates a complete lack of humour when it comes to Melville, who shows no inclination to take the detective fiction genre seriously - but that's exactly what makes him so much fun.
'Weekend at Thrackley' is definitely fun. Melville is quite happy to use all sorts of country house mystery cliches, and the plot wouldn't stand up well to serious scrutiny. There's not even much mystery - the question is one of how things will be resolved, as we pretty much know who's done what all the way through and yet it all works beautifully.
I still think of Melville's style as being somewhere between Wodehouse and Sayers - everybody talks like Lord Peter at his silliest, and there's the same love of a joke that I associate with Wodehouse, and this is why I'm surprised that his books vanished for so long.
They're comic gems, exactly the sort of thing that you pick up when you want a pick-me-up, and the sort of thing that I'll read again and again just for the joy of his descriptions. In 'Weekend at Thrackley' there are some interesting details on the subject of gin and ginger, and Bacardi that also caught my eye, but they're possibly not of general interest.
Otherwise the action rips along at a cracking pace, there are handsome young men, equally beautiful young women, wicked villains who preempt the best James Bond tradition complete with gadgets, an isolated country house, and really everything you could want for an afternoons entertainment.
This is the third Melville in the crime classics series (the other two are Quick Curtain and Death of Anton, both of which I really enjoyed), but the first book he wrote. It was enough of a success to more or less change his life (he quite his job in the family business, managed to buy a bungalow he called Thrackley, and took up writing and broadcasting work full time).
There's a Dorothy L. Sayers review of 'Quick Curtain' in which Sayers demonstrates a complete lack of humour when it comes to Melville, who shows no inclination to take the detective fiction genre seriously - but that's exactly what makes him so much fun.
'Weekend at Thrackley' is definitely fun. Melville is quite happy to use all sorts of country house mystery cliches, and the plot wouldn't stand up well to serious scrutiny. There's not even much mystery - the question is one of how things will be resolved, as we pretty much know who's done what all the way through and yet it all works beautifully.
I still think of Melville's style as being somewhere between Wodehouse and Sayers - everybody talks like Lord Peter at his silliest, and there's the same love of a joke that I associate with Wodehouse, and this is why I'm surprised that his books vanished for so long.
They're comic gems, exactly the sort of thing that you pick up when you want a pick-me-up, and the sort of thing that I'll read again and again just for the joy of his descriptions. In 'Weekend at Thrackley' there are some interesting details on the subject of gin and ginger, and Bacardi that also caught my eye, but they're possibly not of general interest.
Otherwise the action rips along at a cracking pace, there are handsome young men, equally beautiful young women, wicked villains who preempt the best James Bond tradition complete with gadgets, an isolated country house, and really everything you could want for an afternoons entertainment.
Monday, June 11, 2018
Gin
I'm a collector, possibly even a hoarder by nature, it's obvious when you look at my books - which are hard to avoid looking at. They're everywhere around my flat, but there are other things which are a little less obvious.
My yarn stash is mostly tucked away in drawers, and as I lack for cellar all my better wine, whisky, and gin is fighting for space in my wardrobe. I started pulling things out of there last night in a failed attempt to find a missing shoe, which in turn made me think I ought to take stock of what gin I actually had.
The answer turned out to be these 41 lovelies. Almost half of them have been presents - so people obviously know I like gin (they're right, I do), but I suspect I like collecting even more. The litre bottles of the Tanqueray editions for example - it's going to be a struggle to open those, and the same with the beautifully decorative Rock Rose Autumn and winter bottles. The Sipsmith V. J. O. P is strong enough to be quite intimidating.
Mostly though, as I sit looking at these whilst drinking a coffee, I'm thinking some of them want drinking before I can let myself buy anything else (presents don't count, any gift gin will be accepted with enthusiasm). Last year I had a mini gin festival with a friend to raise some money for charity - which was an excellent way to clear out a few half finished bottles, and fun, but I don't have enough open bottles to want to do that again just yet.
It's probably lucky that my partner has an even bigger stash of single malts, and perfectly understands both the impulse to collect, and the idea that some are for 'best' and not to be opened lightly. Gin isn't collectable in the same way - non of these are likely to increase in value but they're fun to collect and have gathered quite a bit of sentimental value in the acquisition process (we spent ages tracking down a Rock Rose Autumn, the Tanqueray Bloomsbury came from a beer shop in Shetland where I did not expect to find it, the Christopher Wren gin from the City of London distillery was another adventure to find and so on...).
Meanwhile, if you know where to find me and fancy a G&T/martini or similar, I think I've probably got it covered. There's even plenty of ice in the freezer.
My yarn stash is mostly tucked away in drawers, and as I lack for cellar all my better wine, whisky, and gin is fighting for space in my wardrobe. I started pulling things out of there last night in a failed attempt to find a missing shoe, which in turn made me think I ought to take stock of what gin I actually had.
The answer turned out to be these 41 lovelies. Almost half of them have been presents - so people obviously know I like gin (they're right, I do), but I suspect I like collecting even more. The litre bottles of the Tanqueray editions for example - it's going to be a struggle to open those, and the same with the beautifully decorative Rock Rose Autumn and winter bottles. The Sipsmith V. J. O. P is strong enough to be quite intimidating.
Mostly though, as I sit looking at these whilst drinking a coffee, I'm thinking some of them want drinking before I can let myself buy anything else (presents don't count, any gift gin will be accepted with enthusiasm). Last year I had a mini gin festival with a friend to raise some money for charity - which was an excellent way to clear out a few half finished bottles, and fun, but I don't have enough open bottles to want to do that again just yet.
It's probably lucky that my partner has an even bigger stash of single malts, and perfectly understands both the impulse to collect, and the idea that some are for 'best' and not to be opened lightly. Gin isn't collectable in the same way - non of these are likely to increase in value but they're fun to collect and have gathered quite a bit of sentimental value in the acquisition process (we spent ages tracking down a Rock Rose Autumn, the Tanqueray Bloomsbury came from a beer shop in Shetland where I did not expect to find it, the Christopher Wren gin from the City of London distillery was another adventure to find and so on...).
Meanwhile, if you know where to find me and fancy a G&T/martini or similar, I think I've probably got it covered. There's even plenty of ice in the freezer.
Sunday, June 10, 2018
The Fabled Coast - Sophia Kingshill and Jennifer Westwood
Reader, I bought the gin. Specifically the Tanqueray Lovage gin I mentioned yesterday. It felt a bit weird to be going to John Lewis to buy gin (though it's not the first time I've done it). Their drinks section comes under gifts and is an odd mix of stuff, but the gin selection has some gems in it. Also looking good was a limited edition Edinburgh gin that celebrates the botanic gardens - but one new bottle of gin a day is probably enough.
Both bottles would have looked equally attractive with the book that's been keeping me company recently, but Tanqueray is a gin distiller I have a particular fondness for, so it was an easy choice. The book is 'The Fabled Coast' which I bought last year on a bitterly cold, but beautiful day in Ullapool. Ullapool is an end of the road sort of place with 2 very nice little bookshops (and several other desirable amenities) I thoroughly recommend a visit.
I'd had this book on a wish list since reading Sophia Kingshill's monograph on Mermaids published by Little Toller. It was a nice thing to find on a generally perfect day out, and has turned out to be even better than I hoped.
It's a collection of legends and traditions from the coastline of Britain and Ireland. Some of the stories are true - a giant squid thought to be a kraken that washed up on a Shetland beach, a whale in the Thames (thought of as an omen of Cromwell's death) and so on. Others are more fanciful - dealings with the devil and other supernatural creatures. There's also lots of bits about pirates. All of it is fascinating.
The chapters are broken down into stretches of coastline, each entry is short - sometimes only a paragraph, never more than a couple of pages, and the whole thing is scholarly without being dry. I would have loved this book as a child too (pity the parent who might have had to listen to me read out various entries on a long car journey). As it is I'm very pleased to have it now. It's a potentially useful reference book, and a brilliant thing to dip in and out of if you only have a few minutes reading time - although minutes can stretch into hours quite easily as you follow story to story.
Kingshill and Westwood also wrote 'The Lore of Scotland' which now looks like a must buy, and I see that Sophia Kingshill has written a young adult book 'Between the Raven and the Dove' about witchcraft. It's heroine is a 13 year old girl so I might find it more young than adult, but I'm tempted anyway just to see what Kingshill is like when she's writing fiction, because if it's half as good as her non fiction it'll be a treat.
Both bottles would have looked equally attractive with the book that's been keeping me company recently, but Tanqueray is a gin distiller I have a particular fondness for, so it was an easy choice. The book is 'The Fabled Coast' which I bought last year on a bitterly cold, but beautiful day in Ullapool. Ullapool is an end of the road sort of place with 2 very nice little bookshops (and several other desirable amenities) I thoroughly recommend a visit.
I'd had this book on a wish list since reading Sophia Kingshill's monograph on Mermaids published by Little Toller. It was a nice thing to find on a generally perfect day out, and has turned out to be even better than I hoped.
It's a collection of legends and traditions from the coastline of Britain and Ireland. Some of the stories are true - a giant squid thought to be a kraken that washed up on a Shetland beach, a whale in the Thames (thought of as an omen of Cromwell's death) and so on. Others are more fanciful - dealings with the devil and other supernatural creatures. There's also lots of bits about pirates. All of it is fascinating.
The chapters are broken down into stretches of coastline, each entry is short - sometimes only a paragraph, never more than a couple of pages, and the whole thing is scholarly without being dry. I would have loved this book as a child too (pity the parent who might have had to listen to me read out various entries on a long car journey). As it is I'm very pleased to have it now. It's a potentially useful reference book, and a brilliant thing to dip in and out of if you only have a few minutes reading time - although minutes can stretch into hours quite easily as you follow story to story.
Kingshill and Westwood also wrote 'The Lore of Scotland' which now looks like a must buy, and I see that Sophia Kingshill has written a young adult book 'Between the Raven and the Dove' about witchcraft. It's heroine is a 13 year old girl so I might find it more young than adult, but I'm tempted anyway just to see what Kingshill is like when she's writing fiction, because if it's half as good as her non fiction it'll be a treat.
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