Mystery Review: The Only Good Secretary is a fine example of the mystery genre known as domestic suspense or domestic noir. In domestic noir the mystery is usually solved, whether largely or wholly, by the ordinary people involved rather than by some genius detective, hardboiled private eye, or a meticulous police procedural. Seeing the events through the eyes of those directly affected, family, friends, or as here, co-workers, is a refreshing change and more relatable. In many domestic suspense novels, as here, I feel the ghost of Shirley Jackson hovering above, the verisimilitude strong until it takes a turn and the whole world shifts on its axis. This is a well-plotted mystery with surprises as co-workers, roommates, exes, and others (not so much the police) try to figure out who killed the boss's secretary. Another excellent reprint (available as a twofer along with Potts' 1957 mystery The Man with the Cane) from Stark House Mystery Classics. A good lost novel found again, which always makes me happy. [4★]
Poetry Review: Early Poems, a collection from Dover Thrift Editions of Edna St. Vincent Millay's first three books, shows it's still possible to get a lot for a little. The most famous photograph of Millay is on the cover. Her first book, Renascence and Other Poems (1917), was published when Millay was 25. The controversial title poem, more than 200 lines, was entered in a contest when she was just 19 and published the next year. These poems demonstrate Millay's early experimenting, reflect her influences, and often look back to great poets of the past. Her second work, A Few Figs from Thistles, was originally published in 1920, with a second expanded edition released in 1922. This book shows a daring bohemian nature and a confident, independent woman of the Roaring Twenties (the 1920's, of course). The poetry world wasn't quite ready for an in-your-face poetess, but readers were and A Few Figs from Thistles was popular and created a stir. Millay began her mature work with her third book, Second April (1921), which opens with the scintillating "Spring." That poems ends: "Life in itself/Is nothing,/An empty cup a flight of uncarpeted stairs./It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,/April/Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers." The book is filled with a variety of accomplished works, including the six-part "Memorial" and twelve sonnets. Many of the poems are concerned with broken romances, death, and dying. Making the reader reflect and identify. More than just reading the three books, however, is that this collection was only $3.50. What a gift that Dover makes so much great work so easily accessible. I believe the British have something similar to Dover in Wordsworth Editions, and I hope other countries do also. Many thanks to those publishers who make great literature available to those who can least afford it, especially when a good library may not be nearby. Sometimes the whole is greater than the parts. [5★]
Short Story Review: "The Manchester Marriage" is not a story about a United fan married to a City supporter as one might think. Instead it's intended as a tear jerker (if it succeeds depends on whether the reader has a heart of stone). Just a bit of melodrama, with everyone simply human, no villains, nobody doing wrong, and everyone doing their duty as best they can despite the hap of life. To live is to serve. Some characters have to be able to change, and just who does so makes up part of the surprise at the end. The story turns on the twist of a secret with serious legal and psychological consequences. Times change, and what was a matter of life and death in 1858 would be the subject of a screwball comedy with Irene Dunne and Cary Grant in 1940. The first twist was predictable, though the ending not so much, and the resolution was both sad and gratifying. [3★]
Short Story Review: "Eveline's Visitant" is a short ghost story about two cousins who engage in a duel over a nameless woman, which ends in the death of one (André) and a curse on the other (Hector). Even though Hector is instantly remorseful, this is a tale of Gothic horror. If the curse seems unfair, too bad, equity is not be a requisite element of curses. André was a ladies' man, a "favourite of women," who treacherously stole a woman away from his cousin. In revenge, André's ghost seduces Hector's (later) wife, just as he seduced women when alive. At first glance it seems wrong the sweet and much-loved Eveline should suffer for her husband's youthful crime. So often it's the innocent who suffer most and most unfairly. But was she guiltless in her relationship with the ghost? The reader can't help but wonder why Eveline suffers so much trauma that she wastes away and dies. Braddon leaves a suggestion that Eveline entered into some form of supernatural infidelity, in which case she is punished sure enough for her wavering loyalty. There are even intimations of some erotic attachment between the ghost of Andre and Eveline. She confesses that the ghost "plucked all old familiar joys out of my heart, and left in it but one weird, unholy pleasure -- the delight of his presence ... I have striven against this wickedness in vain." Ironically, she asks her husband to curse her for this sin. "Eveline's Visitant" is a tale of the other side of this life, where the world is harsh, evil happens, and mortals suffer. Mary Elizabeth Braddon was famous for writing "sensation novels," her best known being Lady Audley's Secret (1862). [3★]
Short Story Review: "The Mortal Immortal" is a short, supernatural tale about a young man's confrontation with the perils of immortality and the limits of love. As with Frankenstein, Shelley investigates the boundaries of science (alchemy) and the fearful consequences of experimentation. She attempts to find the line where knowledge challenges the natural order and interferes with what is moral or human, and becomes a blessing and a curse. The irony being that in seeking longer life, one becomes removed from normal life. While inventive and engaging, Shelley develops no radical or startling response to these themes. As a fairy tale this would fall into the "be careful what you wish for" category. Notably, this Gothic tale has a contemporary setting with an emphasis on the psychological; Mary Shelley, ever imaginative. [3★]
Mystery Review: The Spoiler combines America's two national pastimes: baseball and murder. Frank Lofton is short, balding, in his late thirties, thinks too much and consistently makes poor decisions. He doesn't know his son by his first marriage, his second marriage has fallen apart, his career as a reporter is marginal, and he's chasing a story in which people who know too much are dying. Did I mention he makes poor decisions? Seems his only joy in life is going to the ballpark to watch the Holyoke Redwings lose ballgames. Frank is the unlikely hero of this introspective, noir, and hardboiled mystery about a Massachusetts town with dying industry and too many abandoned warehouses burning. The story is a slow build. Stansberry paints a careful portrait of town and characters, as Frank spends many pages mulling over the ramifications of the many moving parts he's discovered. Typically for noir there's an aptly named femme fatale, though unusually the reader gets to share some of her thoughts. After a lengthy set-up, the ending comes fast, furious, and unexpected. The Spoiler was the first novel by Domenic Stansberry, who's written a number of other mysteries, including The Confession (2004), from the popular Hard Case Crime series. Stansberry dedicated The Spoiler to Adam Hammer, a surrealist poet and talented baseball player who died in a car accident three years before the novel was published. Adam's book of poetry, Deja Everything, is reviewed on GR (3.75) and Amazon (5.0). [4★]
Nonfiction Review: American Troubadours is subtitled "groundbreaking singer-songwriters of the 60s," but most weren't influential and aren't remembered today. Features an odd group of nine musicians, which except for being white, male, folk music-adjacent, and having a recording career that began between 1963 and 1968, don't have a lot in common. Four died young, most had short musical careers (which happens when you die young) ending in the Seventies, three or four were noted songwriters, four or five were talented singers. Three were named Tim, two each Tom and David. Not many boys' names in the Sixties. Most people have never heard of David Ackles, David Blue, Tom Rapp, or Tim Rose. Some folks may be at least vaguely familiar with (those folks who lived through the Sixties and remember the Sixties) Tim Hardin ("If I Were a Carpenter"), Fred Neil ("Everybody's Talking"), Phil Ochs ("Changes," "There But for Fortune"), Tom Rush ("No Regrets"). Tim Buckley may be better known as the father of Jeff Buckley, who had a hit with Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah." I enjoyed reading about the various artists, some with tragic careers, some who weren't especially nice, some with a lot of talent that they couldn't sustain. American Troubadours is lushly produced on heavy stock with a Foreword and an Introduction, a generous color picture gallery of the artists, well-done biographies of six to eleven (large) pages for each, an illustrated discography in color, a well annotated discography (with star ratings), a key to various other people mentioned in the book and to other artists of the time, and an index. The processing was done in Malaysia and Hong Kong so it's high quality. A first rate production if one doesn't mind the relatively short biographies (they were long enough for me) and the idiosyncratic choice of subjects. There are no women or people of color -- in a group of nine wouldn't you expect at least one? Just because I'm that way, if someone is interested in a sequel to this book they might consider Judee Sill, Buffy Sainte-Marie, Patrick Sky, Judy Roderick, Richie Havens, Carolyn Hester, Karen Dalton, Janis Ian, Richard and Mimi Fariña, Julie Felix, and Judy Henske among about a hundred other artists who weren't too famous, but had interesting careers back in the day. There are few others who were so unfamous that I just can't quite remember their names at the moment ... . Despite all my harping, I'll admit that as a bedsit guitarist, I have happily tried the excellent songs of Hardin, Neil, and Rush. American Troubadours is interesting, but far from necessary. A quite well done oddity. Unless you're a huge fan of one or more of these artists, in which case it won't be quite enough. [3★]
Story Review: "The Avenging Chance" is the original kernel of Anthony Berkeley's much expanded novel The Poisoned Chocolates Case (1929). In both a man's wife dies after inadvertently receiving a poisoned box of chocolates. The novel has a different solution than the short story (and different character names). In fact, the novel lavishly provides no less than six reasonable explanations to the mystery, including the resolution from "The Avenging Chance," which is one of the "wrong" theories. Unlike the novel, the story is short, concise, and to the point, efficiently wrapping up a perfect enigma. Oddly, the story and the novel were published the same year, but the novel though written second was apparently published first. A shame since the story provides a sort of red herring for the novel. In a more perfect world "The Avenging Chance" and The Poisoned Chocolates Case would always be published together. [4★]
Mystery Review: Two-Way Murder was apparently written around 1956, but "lost" until it was published by the British Library in 2021 as by E.C.R. Lorac (1884-1958), although she'd planned to use the name "Mary Le Bourne." Thanks to Martin Edwards for his helpful Introduction. This novel doesn't feature either of her long time series detectives Inspector Macdonald or Julian Rivers. Instead we have a duo of Inspector Turner and Inspector Waring from the local police, making it the odd standalone for Lorac (or her alter ego, Carol Carnac). The novel appears at least somewhat unfinished in that it could have used a final good editing to remove the last-draft evidences. Two-Way Murder also desperately needed a map of the region as much of the novel consists of repeatedly driving though a maze of roads and country lanes in a way that quickly becomes complicated. The novel was a step forward for Lorac in technique. She uses a shifting narrator or "detective," turning from Macbane to Waring to feisty housekeeper Alice Ridley, all of whom dig into the mystery. She also uses sets of "doubles," balancing the Rosemary Reeve a powerful and terrible termagant with Dilys Maine, the quiet and obedient. There's also Inspector Turner who operates by the book, one step at a time, in comparison and contrast with Inspector Waring who's instinctive and holistic. Two-Way Murder is a clever mystery, with an interesting cast of characters, family difficulties and a little romance along with a theme on the ethics of withholding information from the police. This fits well with the work of the Golden Age group Allingham, Christie, Marsh, and Sayers, and perhaps others like Christianna Brand, Gladys Mitchell, and Mary Roberts Rinehart are due for a rediscovery. And that's just the women! Lorac's books are a little less tidy and tight than Christie's, but she can certainly be spoken about in the greater list of UK (and US) mystery writers. [4★]
Mystery Review: Murder by Matchlight has Chief Inspector Macdonald (in his 26th book) investigating a murder that occurred in front of witnesses of a victim who doesn't exist. E.C.R. Lorac (1894-1958) vividly captures the war's effects on London, the Blitz and combined feelings of fear and defiance, the blackouts and sudden deaths and bombed-out streets. This isn't simply a setting but inextricably intertwined with the stories of the characters' lives and integral to the mystery itself. There are a lot of coincidences in this rather Baroque mystery well balanced by the interesting and idiosyncratic characters. In Murder by Matchlight we learn that Macdonald was an Oxford man as were so many of his detecting peers, such as Wimsey, Fell, and Alleyn. As usual Lorac also brings forth a philosophical theme for the reader to ponder while reading, here the validity of vigilantism. Whether it's ever acceptable to take the law into our own hands, whether the death of a bad person is no loss, whether the end justifies the means. In each of her books Lorac develops a moral issue for consideration. Her books always begin better than they end and there are some clumsy moments in Murder by Matchlight -- Lorac's plots are never as tidy as Christie's, but whose are, anyway. This volume also includes a very short story by Lorac from 1953, "Permanent Policeman," that turns on a matter of hairdressing that's less revelatory and relevant now, and has been used by others since. [3½★]
Nonfiction Review: A Taste for Poison is a book one may feel somewhat self-conscious about reading, especially if you have an elderly but wealthy great-uncle in Michigan. This is a perfect companion guidebook for mystery readers. Bradbury acknowledges Agatha Christie several times, noting that she used one poison alone (cyanide) to kill off eighteen characters in her books. Being a "trained and certified pharmacist during World War I" prepared her well for such plot twists. A Taste for Poison is a quick read and includes numerous true-crime recapitulations of the many notorious poisonings of history, including the Borgias (though not Socrates). Some examples ripped from recent headlines. A section is included explaining in granular detail how each poison works at the molecular level in the organs, as well as the symptoms and visible effects (some horrific) on the body. Readers will be able to determine the accuracy of the narrative descriptions of poisonings by their favorite crime authors. Budding mystery writers will find this invaluable. Also mentioned in passing is the "poison garden" of Alnwick Castle in Northumberland (owned by the 12th Duke thereof) which contains "more than one hundred different species of deadly plants." Although hemlock wasn't mentioned in the book I'm sure it's in the garden. In the past, poisonings were often attributed to natural causes such as infectious diseases with similar symptoms. Unfortunately, even in suspicious cases there was no way to detect the presence of poison. Now, however, examiners can determine both the presence and quantity of poison in a body. Bradbury asserts that murder by poison is rarer now, but still occurs although "the likelihood of getting away with such murders in the present day is almost nonexistent." Whew! A Taste for Poison is simultaneously informative, light hearted, and horrifying. Photographs are included. With numerous additional toxins available, there's the opportunity for a sequel. [5★]
Nonfiction Review: Loaded reminded me of the best quote ever about a rock band: "Only a thousand people bought the first Velvet Underground album, but every one of them started a group." That just about says it all. Loaded is a book (sort of) about that influential band. Subtitled "The Life (and Afterlife) of the Velvet Underground," Dylan Jones is more interested, obsessed with even, in Andy Warhol and his coterie -- as if Jones had written a biography of Warhol, couldn't sell it, and so overhauled it as an account of the VU. Of course Lou Reed will get an outsize number of pages, he was the heart of the band. John Cale warrants even more space than given here. Even Nico, who sang lead on just three songs on one album, is worthy of a fair share of attention. But I wish more pages in Loaded had been devoted to the music, the songs, the sound, the albums, and the people who created it all instead of the hangers-on at the Factory. But if you're an Andy Warhol acolyte (and he deserves them) then this will please you no end. If you're looking for more on Sterling Morrison, Moe Tucker, and the Yule brothers there's not as much as you might've hoped. There's not even enough good gossip, despite this being an oral history with periodic notes by Jones giving context and history. There's also a quite a few inaccuracies and incorrect facts (e.g., Jimmy Page did not replace Eric Clapton in the Yardbirds). Loaded is good enough for what it is, but a great band deserves a great biography. [3½★]
Mystery Review: All the Sinners Bleed starts with a school shooting and quickly escalates from there. This is the fourth crime novel by S.A. Cosby (my second) and it's another intense, tough, and compelling story confirming Faulkner's statement about the past. Not a mystery, more a thriller and police procedural that mixes in-depth characters with occasional graphic violence. Cosby wonderfully evokes the landscape and way of life in rural Virginia, though some of the characters are like no one you'd ever find there. In an interview Cosby noted being concerned that his writing might be too "country" to get published. That wasn't the problem with All the Sinners Bleed; the "country" was the best part. No, some of the narrative is more preachy, politically correct, and "city" than you'd ever find in the Virginia backwaters. Compare "Scott was the type of man who complained about the world being too sensitive these days without ever acknowledging the irony of his own fragility or privilege" with "Titus thought Scott was a spoiled brat." Which sounds more like rural Virginia? Any thoughts about "identity" and culture wars there are well-hidden beneath a thick crust of insular Southern suspicion. (Yes, I suffered serious trauma in rural Virginia.) But it's easy to overlook the odd break of verisimilitude in All the Sinners Bleed when the story keeps propelling the reader nonstop to the next page. I only complain because all the rest of the book is of such high quality that I expected more of the same. I have two more books by Cosby to read and then I'll be waiting impatiently for the next, along with everyone else. [4★]
Mystery Review: Troubled Daughters, Twisted Wives, a collection of 14 stories by female authors published between 1943 and 1977, warns us that things are not what they seem to be and people are not who we think they are. This is often true in mysteries when the truth is obscured until the end. In the best of these stories, however, some mystery, the "why," still remains. These tales of "domestic suspense" lean toward the dark, creepy, demented, even mildly supernatural. The "twisted" of the title, hinting at psychopathy, is appropriate even though the stories are based on family, or the lack thereof, and rooted in the mundane, everyday lives of middle America (mostly). The narratives here are less predictable and formulaic than usually found in the crime genre. Although the stories span four decades only one was published in the Fifties, which seems the height of the domestic suspense era, but maybe that's just in the movies. Troubled Daughters, Twisted Wives features notable names like Patricia Highsmith and Shirley Jackson, along with some of my personal favorites such as Dorothy B, Hughes and Margaret Millar, middling-known writers such as Vera Caspary (author of Laura), Charlotte Armstrong, Dorothy Salisbury Davis, Elisabeth Sanxay Holding, and Celia Fremlin. The other five authors were new to me but no less interesting. As with any selection there are hits and misses with two or three being a bit simple or just whooshed me entirely. "Louisa, Please Come Home," "Lavender Lady," "Sugar and Spice," "The Purple Shroud," and "The Stranger in the Car" were the stories I particularly enjoyed, but I easily could see readers picking five others as their favorites. Margaret Millar's "The People Across the Canyon" seemed a perfect Shirley Jackson pastiche. What also struck me about Troubled Daughters, Twisted Wives is just how professional the writing is, how well-written in structure and tone. These people wrote for a living. A job well done. [4★]
Mystery Review: Razorblade Tears is the third of S.A. Cosby's four crime novels (my first). The book, though a thriller as much as a mystery, is heavy on characterization without the typical quirky clichés and explores genuine issues of family, race, and sexuality. There's some graphic violence thrown in among more sensitive moments of loss and love (while being circumspect about the sex). This is an accomplished and successful novel. Cosby has mentioned influences such as Walter Mosley (Easy Rawlins comes in for a shout out), Dennis Lehane, Elmore Leonard, Ross Macdonald, and John D. MacDonald, not to mention Chandler, Hammett, and Arthur Conan Doyle. Pretty good company and some influences are more visible than others. I see a bit of Jim Thompson as well, but whether he's an influence I see Cosby as an heir to James Crumley (that's a compliment, see The Last Good Kiss) in his ability to balance thoughtful insights with graphic violence along with a certain level of alcoholism. Crumley was far heavier on the wish-fulfillment sex and (slapstick) humor, but Cosby's portrayal is a heckuva a lot more realistic. One caveat is a jarring note of piously woke preachiness, okay in its place but is at odds with rednecks and vigilante violence in Southern backwaters while breaking fingers, putting a corpse through a chipper, and some gay-panic-defense-level brutality. It's hard to see "a hell-raising, whiskey-drinking, hard-loving redneck son of a bitch" saying "Thank God for white privilege." These folks just aren't high on the wokeness quotient. But maybe that was required in 2021. Other than that Razorblade Tears contains a high level of writing and plotting throughout. No meandering and meaningless plot points to fill out the story. One character says, "Folks like to talk about revenge like it's a righteous thing but it's just hate in a nicer suit." Anger is also omnipresent, with some stemming from the two father's self-hatred for not reconciling with their sons before their deaths. The rattlesnake wariness of the bromance between the two fathers in the strong core of the novel: "Had he really called Buddy Lee his friend ... they'd killed a man together, so they were more than acquaintances, but ... ." Razorblade Tears is just the first. I'll definitely be reading Cosby's other three books. [4★]
Mystery Review: The Hunter was a new kind of novel, and whether that was a good thing is open to debate. This was the introduction of the mononymic Parker: hard-boiled, ruthless, amoral, a professional thief who lives well on the proceeds of a few big capers a year. He's not a detective. He's a bad guy, a strong arm robber who doesn't necessarily enjoy killing but doesn't avoid it either. Typically his story is of one bad guy wronged by other bad guys. The Hunter was made into the movies Point Blank (1967) and Payback (1999), both of which are excellent (the first has a sterling reputation; I'm unsure why the second gets so much grief). The novel has almost no extraneous detail, virtually all the writing is either dialog or description of people interacting. Little is wasted on pondering and description and the book reads like a runaway freight. If a field is described it's because Parker has to crawl through it. Here we get the violent end of Spillane melded into the Jim Thompson school of rough trade with just a touch of Simenon. I don't know if Parker is an anti-hero but he's certainly the protagonist as bad guy while he seeks revenge on the accomplices who betrayed him. At the end of The Hunter Parker is traveling to Omaha to get plastic surgery to change his appearance. The author was Donald E. Westlake under the oddly appropriate pseudonym Richard Stark, as the writing is uniquely severe and bare. He wrote 23 more installments of the Parker saga. Maybe it's not okay for the reader to be rooting for the bad guy to get away with it, but it sure is transgressively enjoyable and engrossing. [4★]
Book Review: A View of the Harbour is a book of which the reader may say: nothing happens, there's no plot, there's simply description. I've dismissed such books as over my head, too elusive, just not for me. But I sat back and read A View of the Harbour as if viewing an impressionist painting, just to appreciate the descriptions and absorb the emotions. The story is bits and pieces put together, in a way that's not quite clear, not sharply delineated, but consists of a few events, the feelings of the characters, the shaded emotions, small moments created, so the reader can let the scenes accumulate, accrete, gather together to form a blurred whole. It's quiet, subtle, thoughtful. There is little plot. The movement, the action, occurs in the thoughts, worries, emotions of the characters. Their feelings carry and propel the story, always musing, reflecting, considering. There's a whole lot of fretting going on. In the discussion of "likable" and "unlikable" characters, Taylor's are always both. Each character contains something appealing and something disagreeable or objectionable, just like most people. My favorite character was a precocious and incisive small girl, Stevie, who was also an enormous brat. In A View of the Harbour the Second World War is over and life is worse than before. Now there are all the lonely women, with the men distant, apparently okay, more easily satisfied. But the women are yearning, seeking, desperate. The story reminded me of Patrick Hamilton's The Slaves of Solitude published the same year, also in the aftermath of the War. I took awhile getting into the novel, to get a fix on the many characters, get a sense of all that was going on, but when I did suddenly everything became richer and rewarding. Elizabeth Taylor (1912-75) sees the sharp edges of human observation and interaction, how we all skirt around the edges of other people, and how we pass judgment on each other. She can write gorgeous sentences forever, as when she writes of "the pigeon-coloured evening." Aging characters are "not in any safe harbour, but thrust out to sea with none of the brave equipment of youth to buoy them up." Taylor jumps deep inside people's heads to capture the tragedy and comedy of life, while content to let the plot run behind trying to catch up. [4★]
