Lord Peter Wimsey in Short Takes (Lord Petere, 1972)

Dorothy Sayers. Lord Peter {The collected short stories} (1972) Compiled by James Sandoe.

It’s always a pleasure to read about Lord Peter. His first appearance was as a Wooster-like ninny, but later appearances indicate this was a pose. Here he helps an anxious twin discover his hitherto unknown criminal brother; rescues the victim of horrendous domestic abuse; solves assorted other crimes; and turns out to be a fair-minded and affectionate father in the previously unpublished “Tallboys”, which is also a nicely done satire on “enlightened” child rearing methods as expounded by people with no understanding of children.

The editor provides a good chronological overview of Sayers’ crime fiction, and includes a wonderfully erudite and affectionate critique of Sayers’ fiction by Carolyn Heilbrun (aka “Amanda Cross”, but that’s not mentioned), and a well done parody, “Greedy Night”.

All in all, a treat for both the Sayers fan and the crime fiction addict. ****

Quebec Railway Light & Power Company (Grumley, 2006)

 J R Thomas Grumley. Quebec Railway Light and Power Company: Montmorency Division. (2006) A Bytown Railway Society book. Lots of pictures, a good potted history of the line, the Montmorency Falls, and the St Anne de Beaupre shrine that provided most of the tourist traffic. The line started as a steam railway in 1898, and was electrified in 1900. Most of the book deals with the locomotives and rolling stock.

Like many such books, this is aimed at the railfan. There’s a bibliography, the halftone printing is excellent, but there’s no map. Hence only *** of four stars.

J is For Judgment (Grafton, 1993)

Sue Grafton. J Is For Judgment (1993) A supposedly dead person is seen by an insurance agent who’s on holiday in Mexico. Since the insurers have paid his widow, they’re miffed. They send Kinsey to verify the sighting. The supposed deceased supposedly suicided by stepping off his sailboat, after the revelation that he was a swindler and a cheat. Several of his victims are also after his hide, his widow wants nothing to do with him, his erstwhile partner has his own reasons for pursuing him,, and so on.. A nicely done puzzle, with timeouts for Kinsey’s family to connect with her. Kinsey isn’t too happy about that, so we’ll find out more in later novels.

The trail ends with a satisfying solution and a goodly dollop of poetic justice. I enjoyed the book. Since Grafton’ death, 2nd-and copies of her books are becoming rare. This copy was a first edition, with dustcover. ***

Movie review: Away from Her (2007)

Away from Her (2007. D: Sarah Polley. Gordon Pinsent, Julie Christie, Olympia Dukakis)

Fiona's developing Alzheimer's results in her going into a long term care home. Grant has a very difficult time adjusting to this. At the home, Fiona starts a relationship with Aubrey, a fellow patient. His wife Marian takes him out of the home because she can't afford to keep him there without selling her house. Fiona becomes depressed. Grant comes to ask Marian to bring Aubrey back for a visit. She refuses. Later, Grant and Marian have sex. Marian sells her house, and brings Aubrey back to the home. When Grant is about to bring him to Fiona, Fiona has a lucid spell, as predicted by the nurse, and recalls that recently Grant was reading her Auden's Letters from Iceland. Grant is ecstatic that she remembers him. Fadeout. And that's the plot, based on an Alice Munro story.

Sarah Polley's adaptation of Munro's story, with its multiple layers and constant moving back and forth in time, is brilliant. The film mimics the unexpected and confusing rememberings that Alzheimer's patients are said to experience. The editing helps, with repetitive establishing shots and subtle shifts in colour, sound, and editing. The three leads are very good. The characters are all vulnerable, and it's that vulnerability that I think makes the film convincing.

Christie's performance as Fiona is wonderful. She changes from knowing that she is deteriorating, to repeating increasingly inappropriate social phrases, to being barely aware of where she is. Pinsent as Grant has captured the essence of a man used to having the supports of career, social rank, and a satisfying marriage, who realises that he can barely survive on his own, and must accept a diminished role in his own life. He doesn't realise that he has been defined by his surroundings and relationships all his life; he has believed that he was somehow self-defined. When Fiona loses her self to Alzheimer's, Grant loses his self too. He says he could not ever bear to be away from her, that's why he married her. In fact, he couldn't be himself without her; and now he must learn how do that. Dukakis as the no-nonsense wife-caregiver, who copes by pretending she is self-sufficient, knows she too needs comfort, even if only the illusion of a brief connection in bed. In the end, we have only ourselves. Those we love, and who love us, no matter how close we are, will always be apart from us.

Yet the movie isn't quite satisfying. It's a depressing story, and has its strongest moments at the beginning, when Fiona charts her own descent into non-self, and decides, while she still can, that it's time for her to go. It's Grant who can't accept the loss, who hopes that the stay in the home will be a short one, who wants to believe that Fiona is just being her quirky self, that therapy will bring her back. Towards the end, as he comes to accept that Fiona must move to the second floor (where the end stage patients are housed), we see that he will somehow survive in his new role as mere visitor. When at the end Fiona has one of those lucid times that the nurse has told Grant she will have, he accepts her embrace, blissed out by her mere presence. Is this a note of hope or of resignation? A recognition that we must accept small mercies gratefully, or the delusion that things will return to normal? Or a setup for even greater heartbreak? The ambiguities arise from the vagueness of Grant's character. The movie doesn't give us the answers, nor should it, but it should give us a clearer sense of how Grant has changed. ***

The Shadow Riders (L'Amour, 1982)

 

Louis L’Amour. The Shadow Riders. (1982) Colonel Ashford believes the South can raise again, with himself at its head. To make it happen, he’s assembled a gang of thirty-some drifters, mostly criminals. They attack and loot ranches on their way to Mexico, where Ashford expects to build a new Confederate Army, attack Texas, and then sweep across the South, etc and so and so forth.

Problem is, he’s attacked a Traven ranch, and then kidnapped some women whom he plans to sell in exchange for weapons. One of them is Mac Traven’s fiancee Kate Connery. Mac, his brother Dal and their Uncle Happy Jack trail Ashford’s wagon train through southeast Texas to the final showdown.

The copy I have touts the CBS TV movie (with Tom Selleck, Sam Elliot et al) based on the book, but it’s another L’Amour tale told with his usual skill. This one’s a bit thin on character, has useful backstory inserted where the plot demands it, and so on. Enjoyable for the L’Amour fan, but merely average. **½

Buckskin Run (L'Amour, 1981)

Louis L’Amour. Buckskin Run. (1981) Collection of short stories, which display all of L’Amour’s plots and characters. I enjoyed reading them. L’Amour understood the genre he was writing, and strove to make them historically accurate in setting and events. Here, he added brief stories of real people and events, which show that fiction’s need for plausibility tends to make reality stranger.

The title refers to a creek. A dispute between a settler (claiming the land legally) and the local cattle baron (pasturing his cattle illegally on government land) focuses on the water and grazing around it, complicated by rumours of gold and old unsolved murders, and of course the romantic subplot. Typical L’Amour tale.

** to *** 

Kilrone (L'Amour, 1966)

Louis L’Amour. Kilrone. (1966) Former army Captain Kilrone walks into an army post with news of the Bannocks assembling to attack Colonel Mellett’s column, and then the post itself. They’re being led by Medicine Dog. The commander in charge is Major Paddock, who believes that Kilrone is his rival for his wife’s affections. Dave Sproule, the owner of most of Hog Town, the nearby settlement that caters to off-duty soldiers’ needs and wants, has his own goals.

That’s the setup. The story moves swiftly, telling mostly of how Kilrone plans for defending the post, and how they survive the attack. Cross-cuts to the other strands of the tale give us the necessary overview, and also raise and maintain tension. The romances are resolved as they should be, and the villains get theirs.

A well-done early L’Amour which lacks only the polish, nuance and richer characterisation of the later ones. **½