Come Homer Charlie. . . (Delderfield, 1969)

 R. F. Delderfield. Come Home Charlie, and Face Them. (1969) Charlie Pritchard is posted to Cadwallader’s Bank in Penmadoc. He rooms at the bank manager’s, whose daughter Ida likes him, and beds him, but thinks he lacks gumption. They enjoy each other’s company until Ida runs off to London.

Office politics at the bank are nasty. Charlie’s only escape is Delphine at the Rainbow Café. She and her brother Beppo persuade Charlie that robbing the bank is feasible, and most of the tale informs us of the trio’s plans and step-by-step progress towards their goal. It all unravels in the end of course, but Ida returns just in time to help Charlie put the pieces back together, one of which is his discovery that he likes her more than well enough to marry her, and not just from gratitude, either. There’s a satisfying amount of poetic justice, too. All’s well that ends well: The villains are punished, and Charlie is rescued by a good woman.

Charlie makes a convincing narrator. The story’s told from his vantage point near the end of his life, and he knows well enough how little he understood himself when he first arrived in Penmadoc. The novel is a coming-of-age story; the crime led him into self-awareness via a detour through semi-valid delusions about his control of the situation.

Recommended of you can find a copy. ***

Turncoat (Gutteridge 2003)

 Don Gutteridge. Turncoat (2003) First in a series. Upper Canada, 1837. A government sympathiser and informer may have been murdered. Lt Governor Sir John Colborne sends Ensign Marc Edwards to Crawford’s Corners to investigate. The local Sheriff assists, various inhabitants assist and obstruct, sometimes both, endemic smuggling both misleads and redirects the investigation, political and personal animosities interfere, and Beth, the victim’s daughter-in-law attracts Edwards’ romantic attention. Their courtship will be the backstory that ties the series together.

After a rather lengthy exposition, the story picks up speed. New pieces of the puzzle raise more questions than they answer. The style is efficient, and improves as the narrative proceeds. Gutteridge has taken care to research the period thoroughly, and creates a convincing ambiance. The solution is satisfactory logically, socially, and psychologically. Ensign Edwards is a nice young fellow, not too good to be true, and perhaps not quite as casually patronising as an Englishman of his class would be. The secondary characters are believable enough to carry the story. This was a second run at reading the book. After the first chapter or two, it drew me in, and I ended wanting to read more of Marc Edwards’ adventures. I’ll have to keep an eye out for the other books in the series.

Nicely done historical fiction. **½

Late Georgian Humor: Thomas Hood's Comic Annuals.

 Thomas Hood. Comic Annual, Vols I, II, & III.(1830, 1831, 1832) An odd set of books. Bound in board with marbled paper, printed on excellent pre-woodpulp paper, with engravings, slightly foxed. The prose pieces and verses are crammed with puns – Hood was famous for them Many of the pieces clearly allude to mild scandals and other concerns of the time. Many of the engravings present visual puns.  Most of the jokes and puns sound rather lame to 21st century ears, but tastes change, and this series was intended to amuse the whole family, so it had to be mild in its satire, and wholesome in its humour.

Annuals of all kinds became an English Christmas gift tradition. Peter and I received several during our time in England and after. Wear on these copies of Hood’s Annual indicates frequent (re)reading. According to his Wiki entry, the Annual was published until 1842; Hood made a decent living as a writer. I inherited these copies from Uncle Paul via Peter, and am glad to have them. Contents * to ****

Kings & Queens of England (Delderfield, 1966)

 Eric R. Delderfield. The Kings and Queens of England. (1966) Just what the title says, the monarchs listed in order, with dates and other statistics, and a brief summary of their reign. The author claims to have avoided bias as much as possible, and I think he’s succeeded. Portraits of most of them reproduced rather badly: halftone on plain paper tends to lose detail. A useful little reference book, so I’ll keep it. **½

The Golden Egg (Leon, 2013)

 Donna Leon. The Golden Egg (2013). The deaf-mute helper at the laundry that does Guido and Paola Brunetti’s dry-cleaning dies of apparent suicide. The necessary bureaucratic protocols fail to turn up any record of his existence. His mother gives conflicting and unverifiable accounts of their history. The neighbours, who know much of what actually happened, refuse to tell Brunetti what he needs to know. He eventually digs away the layers of  deception that victimised the man, but decides to withhold the final piece of the puzzle from the guilty person, because he cannot prove their guilt. But Brunetti knows that their plans will be thwarted when the evidence they believe will prove their claim to wealth will fail. The solution explains the title.

The casual corruption of Italian political and economic life is once again both backdrop and cause of the troubles and pains that these people suffer and inflict on each other. Leon’s great talent is imagining rounded characters: The walk-on parts are more than cardboard cutouts, and the main players are so fully imagined that we feel we would recognise them on the street.

Recommended. ****

Lapham's Quarterly: Crimes and Punishments (Spring 2009)

 Lapham’s Quarterly II/2, Spring 2009. Crimes and Punishments. A difficult read, consisting almost entirely of firsthand accounts. Two crimes figure most: the con, and murder. Mere theft is a distant third. Punishments have usually been horrendous, even for what we nowadays may think of as petty crimes. But they didn’t deter crime, which is as much an effect of social and economic factors as individual propensity.

Simply put, one can only choose from the options available, and for too many people too much of the time, theft, robbery and worse have been the best available choices. If the opportunity cost is low, even people enjoying economic and social security will be tempted. Systemic corruption may make the legal or ethical choice less attractive and even dangerous. When divorce entails severe financial or social costs, even murder may look like the better option. In short, crime occurs at the intersection of more or less limited choice and individual need and desire.

Most crime is rather mundane. The professional criminal, who plies crime as a chosen trade or profession, is the exception. So is the narcissist who commits crimes for pathological satisfaction. Dr Moriarty makes for dramatic story-telling, but there are few examples in real life. Ted Bundy’s are rare. But the rarer the event, the bigger the headlines, so that most (perhaps all) of us believe crime is both more common and more violent than it actually is.

Rare and extraordinary crimes are more likely to be recorded, which is why this collection is a difficult read. Most of the selections show us that depravity and greed have no limits. Nevertheless, recommended. ****

Poem: The Sea Son's Eyes Are Blue and Green

THE SEA SON'S EYES ARE BLUE AND GREEN
GOLDEN FISHES SWIM THEREIN
A poem for many voices

stars shape faces in his head, burst
coalesce and grow like trees
an old man's face
looms in the branches
see, see his hair
entangled in the boughs
see, see his hair
entangled in the branches of anemones

stars burst on the rocking water

I am scattered over the water
my fragments are scattered over the water
my face is entangled in the pattern the waves make
I am reborn in every motion of the water

stars burst in the rocking water

he gathers them into his head
they glitter
in the darkness
they blaze like the sun
that shattered on the water and became stars
bursting in the sea son's head, in silence
that touched the inside of his face
and grew like a tree

In that other place where these things happened
I sat me down by the waters of language and wept,
For behold, I had no face, my name was taken from me
And given to the wind.

[1973; publ. in 39 Below, Edmonton]