The Black Cabinet by Patricia Wentworth – #1925Club

Twenty-year-old orphan Chloe Dane has always loved her family’s ancestral home, Danesborough, but since the family fell on hard times, the house has been bought by a wealthy distant relative, Mitchell Dane, whom Chloe has never met. It comes as a big surprise to her, then, when Mr Dane tells her he would like to adopt her and make her his heir. Chloe is quite happy with her current life – she’s working as a dressmaker’s assistant and has plenty of admirers, although she’s not ready to accept any of them yet – and she tells Mr Dane she’s not interested in his money. That doesn’t stop him from leaving everything to her anyway when he dies unexpectedly soon afterwards.

Arriving at Danesborough, Chloe is immediately drawn to the black cabinet in the drawing room, which she remembers from her childhood. Before his death, Mr Dane had told her that the cabinet contained a safe and had sworn her to secrecy before telling her the combination to open it. When she opens the safe, Chloe finds some items that could be dangerous if they fall into the wrong hands – and when she discovers that the late Mr Dane’s secretary, Leonard Wroughton, is desperate to access the safe’s contents, she resolves to do whatever it takes to stop him.

This is my second book for 1925 Club, hosted by Simon and Karen this week, and was another great choice. I found it very similar to The Red Lacquer Case, published the previous year, which I also enjoyed, but the heroine in this one is more engaging. Chloe is a lovely person, principled, passionate and courageous – but at the same time, like Sally in The Red Lacquer Case, she’s too trusting, which leads her into danger over and over again. It’s frustrating, but also adds excitement to the plot – and, to be fair, I couldn’t always decide who could and couldn’t be trusted either.

Mr Wroughton is an obvious villain, along with his accomplice, the mysterious ‘Stran’, whose true identity isn’t known until the end of the book. However, there are other characters who are more ambiguous. Michael and Martin are both love interests of Chloe’s and it’s clear, at least to the reader, that one of them is trying to help her while the other is working against her. The question is, which is which? I was impressed by how cleverly Wentworth leads us to suspect first one, then the other, so that I found myself changing my mind several times throughout the book!

I thoroughly enjoyed The Black Cabinet, my only problem being that I couldn’t understand why Chloe didn’t just go straight to the police when she discovered what was inside the safe. I suppose the answer is that there would have been no story otherwise! I’m glad I picked such a fun book for 1925 Club. I’m looking forward to reading more by Patricia Wentworth as I’ve read very little of her work so far.

Simon the Coldheart by Georgette Heyer – #1925Club

This week, Karen of Kaggsy’s Bookish Ramblings and Simon of Stuck in a Book are hosting another of their very popular clubs, where we all read and write about books published in the same year. This time it’s 1925! When deciding what to read for the clubs, I usually start by looking to see whether any of my favourite authors had a book published in that year. Georgette Heyer had such a long career there’s nearly always something suitable for whichever year it is and she didn’t disappoint this time.

Simon the Coldheart, published (obviously) in 1925, is one of several straight historical novels Heyer wrote, rather than one of the Georgian or Regency romances for which she’s most famous. It does feel very different and I don’t think it will necessarily appeal to fans of her other books, but I still liked it.

We first meet Simon in the early 1400s when, at the age of fourteen, he presents himself at the castle of Fulk of Montlice, demanding to join his service. Simon is the illegitimate son of Fulk’s bitter enemy, Lord Geoffrey of Malvallet, but Fulk is impressed by his confidence and determination and offers him a position as page. As the years go by, Simon repays Fulk’s faith in him, serving him well for several years before being knighted by the King and gifted lands of his own.

Now known as Sir Simon of Beauvallet (a play on the name of his father, Malvallet, and on the name of his lands, Fair Pastures), Simon has his life in order, exactly as he wants it. His friend Alan, Fulk’s son, and his half-brother Geoffrey, however, believe there’s still something missing from Simon’s life: a wife. Simon insists that he has no interest in women and no plans to get married. But when he meets Lady Margaret of Belrémy, it seems he may have met his match.

I’ve been meaning to read Simon the Coldheart since I read Heyer’s Beauvallet a few years ago – technically a sequel to this book, although it’s set several generations later and features completely different characters. I didn’t find this one as much fun as Beauvallet, which is an Elizabethan pirate novel, but I still found it quite enjoyable. Simon is a strong character, if not particularly easy to like at first – he becomes known as Coldheart for a reason – but later in the book we start to see a more human side to him, first in the close friendships he forms with Alan and Geoffrey, then in his kindness to children and finally his romance with Margaret, which forms a relatively small part of the novel. I also loved his relationship with Fulk, who comes to love him like a son (sometimes, it seems, more than his real son).

As she always does, Heyer attempts to write using language appropriate to the era, which in this case means lots of ‘thees’ and ‘thous’. Today’s historical fiction authors tend not to do this, so it does make the book feel dated – which again won’t be to everyone’s taste, but I didn’t have a problem with it. I didn’t find the romance element of the book particularly satisfying, though; Margaret is introduced quite late in the novel and Heyer’s usual witty dialogue between hero and heroine isn’t much in evidence here. I found Margaret a more interesting character when she’s away having adventures on her own than I did in her scenes with Simon.

Apparently Simon the Coldheart was one of six books Heyer tried to suppress in the 1930s (the others were another historical novel, The Great Roxhythe, and four contemporary novels) as she considered them inferior early works. In 1977, a few years after her death, her son gave permission for this one to be republished. In general I believe an author’s wishes should be respected, but I also think she was maybe being too hard on Simon the Coldheart – it obviously isn’t one of her best, but it’s not a bad book at all. It got my 1925 Club reading off to a good start and I hope to post another review later in the week, as well as looking at some of my favourite reads from previous club years.

A Ghost Hunter’s Guide to Solving a Murder by F. H. Petford

Twenty-two-year-old Alma Timperley is stunned when she learns that her Aunt Gladys has died, leaving her hotel in Cornwall to Alma in her will. The news comes as a particular surprise as Alma didn’t even know that Gladys existed in the first place! Still, she accompanies her lawyer, James Nascent, to Falmouth on the Cornish coast to inspect her inheritance and likes what she sees. The Timperley Spiritualist Hotel overlooks the town below and has a very special clientele. The people who come to stay are hoping to make contact with loved ones beyond the grave and their reservation fee includes three sessions with one of the hotel’s two mediums, George Weaver and Valentine Wragge.

Alma has always believed she has psychic abilities herself, so she’s intrigued and decides to immediately take ownership of the hotel. She soon finds that she has more than ghosts to worry about, however, because it’s 1914 and war has recently broken out with Germany. Why has a book written in German been hidden inside a cooking pot in the hotel kitchen? And who turned on a light in the tower, guiding an enemy Zeppelin in from the shore? Is someone in the hotel spying for the Germans?

This is the first book in a planned series of novels starring Alma Timperley and based on this one I’ll definitely be looking out for more. It wasn’t really what I’d expected, though; the title and cover gave me the impression this would be a humorous cosy mystery set in a haunted house, but it’s actually something very different. There’s no ghost hunting (unless you count mediums trying to contact spirits) and there’s not really a mystery either. The identity of the German spy – referred to as Excalibur – is revealed to the reader very early in the book and although Alma and the police don’t know who it is, I would have preferred to be kept in suspense as well, wondering who it was.

Despite the book not really being as advertised – which is a shame, as it seems to have resulted in the book receiving worse reviews than it deserves – I still enjoyed it. I particularly loved the Cornish setting: Petford does a great job of bringing Falmouth to life, with its bay and harbour and local landmarks such as Pendennis Castle, which played a part in the town’s defences during the war, and the King’s Pipe, a chimney used to burn tobacco illegally smuggled into the country. We also learn a lot about PK Porthcurno, once the world’s largest telegraph station where many cables from overseas came ashore and now a museum open to the public.

I think this book has a lot to offer, as long as you approach it as historical fiction about German spies in the First World War and not a ghost story or a detective novel. It covered some aspects of the war I hadn’t read much about before and it held my interest from beginning to end. I liked Alma and her friends and hope to meet them again soon.

Thanks to Hodder & Stoughton for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 4 for RIP XX

White Teeth, Red Blood: Selected Vampiric Verses

I don’t usually choose to read poetry anthologies but this vampire-themed collection sounded appealing, particularly with Halloween just a few weeks away.

White Teeth, Red Blood contains the work of famous poets such as Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Christina Rossetti, Rudyard Kipling, Emily Dickinson and Alfred, Lord Tennyson, as well as some lesser known names and some contemporary writers. Some of the poems feature traditional undead, blood-sucking vampires, while in others there is no actual vampire character; as we are told in the introduction, the vampire ‘acts as a metaphor for many things, from pregnancy and art to racism and colonialism’.

I can’t possibly talk about all the poems in the book, so I will just highlight my favourite, which was actually the first poem in the book, Lenore by the German author Gottfried August Bürger. Originally published in 1774, it’s not technically a vampire story, but does feature a character who has returned from the dead. Lenore is a young woman who loses her faith in God when her lover, William, fails to return from the Seven Years’ War. Late that night, a man who looks like William appears and asks her to join him on a midnight horseback ride to their wedding bed. The translation by Dante Gabriel Rossetti is wonderful – I always find it impressive that poetry translated from another language manages to retain its rhythm and rhyming words.

Although I enjoyed this collection overall, it does feel very uneven. The first section, Chilling Tales, which takes up around three-quarters of the book, is made up of long narrative poems (or extracts from them); a lot more pages are devoted to Byron’s The Giaour than to anything else. The poems in the second and third sections, Dire Warnings and The Vampire Within, are much shorter, sometimes less than a page long. I can appreciate that there’s some logic in the way the poems are divided into these three groups (explained in the introduction by the author Claire Kohda), but I think I would have preferred them mixed together for more variety. Also, the poems are ordered chronologically within each section and as the majority are from the 18th and 19th centuries, the small number of very modern ones feel a bit out of place.

With some of the poems, I struggled to see why they were included and what the connection with vampirism was, so it would have been nice to have been given some context, but this really is just a straightforward anthology with no additional material or notes apart from Kohda’s introduction. I didn’t find it completely satisfying, then, but I think it would make a nice gift for a poetry lover or someone with an interest in vampire mythology.

Thanks to Pushkin Press for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 3 for RIP XX

Glorious Exploits by Ferdia Lennon

This is another book that I probably wouldn’t have read if it hadn’t been shortlisted for the Walter Scott Prize this year (I have an ongoing project where I’m attempting to read all of the shortlists for that particular prize). I’m glad I decided to read it, because after a slow start I ended up enjoying it more than I thought I would at first.

Glorious Exploits is set in 412 BC during the Peloponnesian War. An attempt by Athens to invade Sicily has ended in failure and thousands of defeated Athenian soldiers have been imprisoned in a disused quarry in Syracuse where they are slowly starving to death. Gelon and Lampo, two out of work Syracusan potters, occasionally take food to the quarry and in return the prisoners recite lines from plays by the Athenian tragedian Euripides. Gelon loves Greek theatre and when he discovers that some of the prisoners are familiar
with Medea and, even better, Euripides’ newest work, The Trojan Women, he comes up with a plan to stage both plays in the quarry, with the Athenians as actors.

Lampo is our narrator and tells his story using lots of modern Irish vernacular (Lennon is an Irish author) and lots of swearing. He also has a dry sense of humour and I know many people have found the book hilarious, although it didn’t quite work as a comedy for me. Whether or not you’ll like the writing style is entirely down to personal taste, I suppose. I tend to get irritated by historical novels written in very modern, anachronistic language, although as I said when I read Natasha Pulley’s The Hymn to Dionysus earlier this year, it bothers me less when the book is set in the ancient world. I got used to Lampo’s voice after a while and accepted it.

The relationship between Lampo and Gelon forms an important part of the novel. They are very different people but their friendship has endured since childhood. Lampo is illiterate and directionless but always seems cheerful and ready with a joke – until we start to see signs that there’s more to him than meets the eye and we see another side when he falls in love with a slave girl, Lyra. Gelon has a more serious nature and has taught himself to read, developing a love of Greek plays. He’s afraid that the defeat of Athens could mean that the work of great Athenian playwrights like Euripides become lost to history, which is why he comes up with his idea to keep the plays alive. Gelon knows that it’s possible for warring nations to appreciate each other’s art and culture, even if not everyone would agree.

Towards the end, things take a surprisingly dark turn and I found the final part of the book quite moving. It seemed I was more emotionally invested in the story than I thought! I’m not sure if I would rush to read more books by Ferdia Lennon, but I’m glad I stuck with this one despite initially thinking it wouldn’t be for me.

The Birds by Tarjei Vesaas

Translated by Torbjørn Støverud and Michael Barnes

Tarjei Vesaas is a completely new author for me, but when I saw two new editions of his books available from Pushkin Press in English translations, I was intrigued by both of them. I decided to start with The Birds, which sounded fascinating. On the front cover, the author Karl Ove Knausgaard describes it as ‘the best Norwegian novel ever’.

The Birds is a short but powerful book. It’s the story of Mattis, a Norwegian man in his late thirties who sees the world differently. Today he would be described as having a mental disability, but Mattis lives in a time when people are not always so sensitive. He’s aware that his neighbours talk about him behind his back and that the village children call him Simple Simon. He has never been able to hold down a steady job and lives with his older sister, Hege, who supports them both through her knitting.

Mattis has low self-esteem and is afraid of what will happen to him if his sister ever leaves, but he is still able to find pleasure in the small things in life, such as the appearance of a woodcock which begins to fly over their house at night. Although nobody else seems to care, to Mattis this is an important, momentous event and the bird and its fate eventually become symbolic of himself. Another, equally significant event is the arrival of Jørgen, a lumberjack with whom Hege falls in love. Convinced that she’ll go away with Jørgen and abandon him, Mattis struggles to cope with this unwelcome change in his life.

This book was published in 1957 and I was impressed by how sensitively and convincingly Vesaas writes about Mattis and his disabilities. He knows he’s not like other people, which makes him feel inadequate and isolated, so any little victory means a lot to him. I found it very moving to see the joy he feels when two young women are kind to him and his sense of pride when he finally starts his own business as ferryman (despite there never being any passengers). I also had a lot of sympathy for Hege. Although we only really see her through Mattis’ eyes, it’s clear that the situation is equally difficult for her. She loves her brother and is protective of him, but at the same time she feels tired, trapped and frustrated. Life seems to be passing her by, so when she finally gets a chance of happiness, she doesn’t want to lose it.

The Birds is a sad, poignant novel but also has some moments of hope and inspiration and is beautifully written, in a simple, gentle way. I loved it and am now looking forward to reading The Ice Palace which sounds just as good.

Thanks to Pushkin Press for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Predicament by William Boyd

After finishing last year’s Gabriel’s Moon, I was pleased to learn that William Boyd was writing a second book about Gabriel Dax. I’ve now read it and enjoyed it even more than the first.

The Predicament begins in March 1963 with travel writer Gabriel trying to lead a peaceful life in a small East Sussex village. However, his parallel life in the world of espionage just won’t leave him alone. His Russian contact, Natalia Arkadina of the KGB, still believes he is a double agent working on behalf of Russia and has requested a meeting with him to give him his latest assignment. Meanwhile, Faith Green of MI6 has also approached him with a new mission: to go to Guatemala and interview Padre Tiago, the man expected to win the upcoming presidential election there.

Gabriel is not thrilled about getting involved in spying again, but agrees to the Guatemala plan as he’ll be able to combine the trip with some research for his new book on the world’s rivers. Unfortunately, things go badly wrong and he leaves the country in a hurry, having made himself the target of some unscrupulous people. It’s not long before he is given a new task, though – this time he must go to Germany and try to prevent an assassination attempt on President Kennedy, who is visiting West Berlin.

I don’t often choose to read spy thrillers, but one of the things I find compelling about this series is that Gabriel is such a reluctant and accidental spy. He never intended to get mixed up in international espionage and is really not very good at it! We do see him adding to his skill set in this book, though, being trained on how to lose someone who is trying to follow him and how to use everyday items as weapons. And although his Guatemala mission is disastrous, he does play a part in foiling the conspiracy to kill JFK in Berlin (I’m sure it’s not a spoiler to say that it was foiled as everyone knows that he wasn’t assassinated in Germany). Boyd does a good job of creating tension in the Berlin sections, despite it already being obvious what the outcome is going to be!

Gabriel’s Moon probably had slightly more depth, as it also featured a storyline about a childhood trauma that affected Gabriel’s mental health, but I preferred this book overall – possibly because when I read the first one I was comparing it unfavourably with Boyd’s previous and very different novel, The Romantic, which I loved. And although the mental health storyline is pushed into the background in this book, Gabriel does find himself facing some other personal predicaments: he is being accused of plagiarism by another travel author, who is not pleased that Gabriel has written about the same group of islands; his ex-girlfriend Lorraine is trying to rekindle their relationship; and Gabriel himself is continuing to struggle with his feelings for his MI6 handler, Faith Green. Faith is an enigmatic character – is she really romantically interested in Gabriel or is she just stringing him along for her own purposes?

The Predicament is an entertaining read with some fascinating settings – Guatemala on the brink of a political revolution and post-war Berlin shortly after the construction of the Berlin Wall. Throughout the book, Gabriel’s Russian contacts, Natalia and Varvara, keep pushing for him to also visit Moscow, so maybe that will finally happen in the next book! This is apparently intended to be a trilogy, so hopefully we’ll get answers to some of the other questions in the final novel too. Something to look forward to.

Thanks to Viking for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.