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.

Murder at the Black Cat Cafe by Seishi Yokomizo

Translated by Bryan Karetnyk

Over the last few years, Pushkin Press have been publishing Seishi Yokomizo’s Kosuke Kindaichi mysteries in new English translations. This is the latest, but I found it different from the previous ones in several ways.

First, where the other books are full-length novels, Murder at the Black Cat Cafe is a novella (this edition also includes another short story, Why Did the Well Wheel Creak?, to make the book more substantial). Yokomizo’s detective, Kosuke Kindaichi, plays a prominent role in the first story, but a very small one in the second – in fact, I wouldn’t really call that one a Kindaichi mystery at all as he only appears right at the end. Both stories belong to the type Yokomizo refers to in the prologue as ‘faceless corpse’ mysteries – in other words, where the murder victim has had their face destroyed so they can’t be identified.

The other main difference is in the setting. Usually the Kindaichi mysteries are set in rural Japan – a small village, a country house, a remote island – but Murder at the Black Cat Cafe has a city setting: Tokyo’s red-light district, an area known as the Pink Labyrinth. First published in 1947, the story takes place just after the war and begins with a policeman on patrol discovering the faceless body of a woman in the garden of the Black Cat Cafe, an establishment owned until very recently by the Itojimas, who have just sold it and moved away. Beside the corpse is the body of a black cat, which has also been killed. It’s assumed that the cat is the famous mascot of the Cafe – until the Cafe’s black cat emerges alive and well. Where did the other cat come from and who is the dead woman?

I enjoyed the post-war urban setting, but with the second story, Why Did the Well Wheel Creak?, we are back on more familiar ground with a family living in a remote village. The patriarch, Daizaburo, has two sons – one legitimate and one illegitimate – who are almost identical apart from their eyes. When both young men go to war and only one returns alive, having lost both eyes, questions begin to be asked. Is this man who he says he is or could he be pretending to be his brother?

Both of these stories, then, feature mistaken or stolen identities and people who may or may not be impostors and both have enough twists and turns to keep the reader guessing until the truth is revealed. The first one was probably the stronger mystery, but I did enjoy the second one as well and liked the way the story unfolded through letters sent from a sister to her brother. I’m already looking forward to the next Kindaichi book, She Walks at Night, coming next year.

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

Book 2 for RIP XX

A History of England in 25 Poems by Catherine Clarke

If you had to choose a selection of poems to represent your country’s past, which ones would you pick? What can poetry teach us about a nation’s history, culture and identity? These are some of the questions Catherine Clarke sets out to answer in this wonderful new book which tells the story of England through twenty-five famous and not-so-famous poems.

Beginning with the 8th century poem Cædmon’s Hymn, written in Old English, the book then moves chronologically through time, ending with Zaffar Kunial’s The Groundsman from 2022. Familiar names including Geoffrey Chaucer, Shakespeare, Tennyson and Lewis Carroll are all represented, but so are some lesser known poets from more diverse backgrounds such as Phillis Wheatley, the first African-American woman to have her poems published, and Grace Nichols, an immigrant to Britain from Guyana. The poems have all been selected for what they can tell us about specific moments in English history: Viking raids, the Battle of Agincourt, the plague, the miners’ strikes, the Great Storm of 1987 and many more.

Before picking up this book, it’s important to know that it shouldn’t really be approached as simply a poetry anthology. Not all of the poems appear in full – many are just extracts – and they haven’t necessarily been chosen for the beauty of the language. The literary merit of each poem is discussed only briefly or not at all, as Clarke is more interested in the life of the writer, why they chose to write that particular poem at that particular time and how the poem fits into the wider context of what was happening in England during that period. Each poem is given its own chapter and with twenty-five of them to get through, the chapters are relatively short, although still long enough to say everything that needs to be said.

I enjoyed every chapter – although I was already familiar with most of the historical figures and topics discussed in the book, it was interesting to see them from different, unusual perspectives and to discover some new poems I’d never read before. Some of my favourites were Mary Leapor’s Crumble Hall, written through the eyes of a servant in an 18th century country house; Adlestrop by Edward Thomas, describing a train briefly stopping at a station in 1914; and Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s The Cry of the Children, a protest against child labour during the Industrial Revolution.

I can highly recommend this book to anyone with an interest in English history. If you also like poetry it would be helpful, but not essential! I thought it was a fascinating approach and it would be good to read about another country’s history seen through the lens of its poetry like this.

Thanks to Penguin Classics/Allen Lane for providing a copy of this book via NetGalley.

Miss Winter in the Library with a Knife by Martin Edwards

I was drawn to this book by the title and cover and as I’d been wanting to give Martin Edwards another try – I didn’t really get on with Mortmain Hall – I decided to read it. I’m pleased to say that I really enjoyed this one!

Harry Crystal, who narrates part of the story, is the author of thirty-two mystery novels. When online influencer Carys Neville describes his books as ‘dozy crime’ and accuses him of being an Agatha Christie copycat, Harry finds himself dropped by his publisher. Receiving an invitation from the Midwinter Trust inviting him to spend Christmas in the village of Midwinter and participate in a murder mystery game with a cash prize for the winner, Harry decides to accept. After all, he doesn’t have much else to do and winning something would help him to feel less of a failure.

Midwinter, considered one of the most remote settlements in England, is a tiny former mining village in the North Pennines. Privately owned by the Midwinter Trust, it’s advertised as a place to retreat from the outside world. Harry arrives during a period of heavy snow to find that the village really has been completely cut off from the rest of the world, with no phone or internet access. To his dismay, Carys Neville is one of the other contestants, along with four other people, all of whom are involved in some way with publishing or crime writing. Winning the prize isn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped!

Miss Winter in the Library with a Knife is the title of the mystery put together by Trust director Bernadette for the six guests to solve. Clues and evidence relating to this fictional mystery are given in separate chapters titled Bonus Puzzle Content. The reader can try to solve this mystery for themselves, as well as a ‘real’ mystery which begins to unfold involving the guests, staff and Trust members. However, this structure didn’t work quite as well as I expected; the mystery-within-a-mystery feels undeveloped and is referred to less and less often as the book goes on so that when the solution was eventually revealed, I didn’t really care – and it seemed that the players didn’t either.

The Midwinter storyline was much more compelling than the Miss Winter one. I loved the setting and Edwards does a great job of conveying how remote and isolated the village is, beginning with the atmospheric drive from the station across deserted snowy moorland. Although I felt that some of the characters could have been stronger, I enjoyed the sections written from the perspectives of Harry Crystal and another of the guests, the publicist Poppy de Lisle. It’s not clear who can and can’t be believed, what the true motives of the Trust are or why these particular six guests have been invited to Midwinter, so there’s a lot to unravel.

Edwards is clearly a big fan of Golden Age mysteries (he’s the editor of the British Library Crime Classics series) and the influence of Christie and other authors is obvious here. He also includes a Cluefinder – a device sometimes used in GA mysteries – at the end of the book, listing all the clues that appeared throughout the story with references to the chapter they are found in. Unfortunately, I hadn’t spotted many of those!

I didn’t love everything about this book, then, but I did find it very entertaining and was surprised by some of the plot twists towards the end. It would be a perfect book to read during a winter snowstorm.

Thanks to Aria & Aries for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 1 for RIP XX