Amanda Cross. The Theban Mysteries (1971)

     Amanda Cross. The Theban Mysteries (1971) This appears to be the third in the series, if Last Analysis was the first. Kate and Reed are now married. Her old school asks her to lead a seminar on Antigone, which has too much relevance to the current political and social situation. This is the time of the Vietnam War and draft resistance, etc. The brother of one the girls hides in the school, but the guard dogs find him and scare him nearly to death. Then his mother turns up dead in the school, and the guard dogs get the blame for scaring her to death, except that their handler protests they couldn’t have done so without his knowing of her presence. So there’s the mystery. Kate’s discovers that it was neither murder nor the effect of dogs on a phobic woman, but an accidental death brought about by the dynamics of a dysfunctional family. No criminal charges result, and Kate and Reed return to their domestic bliss.
     I like this book better than the first, even though the puzzle is rather lame and lamely solved. But the scenes of the seminar ring true; the author has clearly taught adolescents, and knows how to make bright students credible as characters. Nicely done, but still only ** (2005)

Marcel Gagné. Moving to Linux (2004)

     Marcel Gagné. Moving to Linux (2004) A clear and readable manual of how to set up Linux, how to use its features, and how to use the most common applications, including what sound like some cool games. Gagné obviously loves Linux, knows it very well, and has a an elevated regard for his own wit. A very good book that I would recommend to anyone with enough confidence in his or her computer skills to contemplate making the switch from Windows to Linux. Now, I really must get going on doing just that... *** (2005)
     Update 2013: I've tried several versions of Linux, and have settled on Mint, a variant of Ubuntu, which was pretty good until the devs concocted something they called the Unity desktop. Awful. Almost as bad as the new Windows 8. I have Mint on an old laptop, which I take with me when we travel, as Linux-based machines are more secure when using a public wi-fi. Few manufacturers make Linux drivers for current hardware,m though, so I don't have Linux on any of our other machines. On the other hand, Mint automagically recognised the TV when I plugged it in. Nice. Downside: the old laptop is too slow to play HD videos.

Amanda Cross. In the Last Analysis (1964)

     Amanda Cross (pseud. of Carolyn Heilbrun) In the Last Analysis (1964) A former student of Prof. Kate Fansler is murdered on the couch of her friend Dr Emmanuel Bauer. Kate refuses to believe that he is the murderer, and with the help of Reed Amhearst, Ass’t DA, and Jerry, fiancé of her niece, she uncovers enough facts to first cast doubt on Emmanuel’s obvious guilt, and then discover the actual murderer. The case involves identity theft, Freudian analysis, a host of literary allusions (one of which is crucial in solving the case), and a large dollop of somewhat laboured academic wit. The style is punctiliously grammatical and correct, which has the unfortunate effect of making all the characters sound alike.
     However, the solution to the puzzle comes about plausibly, with just the right amount of bizarre coincidence. Cross gives us a believable Kate and only slightly less believable secondary characters. Towards the end, I decided I rather liked this entertainment, and looked forward to the second book (which I have started reading already; it’s better than this one.) ** (2005)

Jay Ingram. The Theatre of the Mind (2005)

 

    Jay Ingram. The Theatre of the Mind (2005) An exploration of what was known, hypothesised, and speculated about consciousness up to 2005. There have been a few advances and some additional knowledge since then, but the central thesis, that we still don’t know enough, and may never know enough, to give a good account of consciousness, still stands.
     Ingram surveys the field, with his usual knack of explaining difficult ideas by lacing concrete examples into the abstractions of science. He illustrates the difficulties of the topic by reminding us that experienced drivers may well drive unconsciously for many kilometres, realising with some surprise that they can’t recall the last ten or twenty minutes of driving.
     Some certainties have been established. For example, we know that most of the processing done by the brain occurs well below consciousness (why do we refer to “below” here?), and that consciousness consists of constantly shifting attention. It’s also pretty well agreed that language is somehow essential. Then there are the experiments that show that conscious awareness of a decision occurs many milliseconds after the chosen action has already begun.
     There’s in my mind also no question that what we think of as our conscious experience is the result of major filtering, processing, combining, and recombining of data presented to us by our senses. It’s a fabrication, but one which is true enough to enable reasonably accurate predictions of future states of the world, and so makes useful choices and decisions possible. That process suggests why consciousness has survival value, despite its slow-as-molasses reaction to the environment compared to unconscious reflexes or conditioned responses.
     As the title indicates, Ingram prefers the metaphor of a theatre, not one presented for the delectation of a single homunculus, but as a process of selecting and disseminating information to an audience of unconscious homunculi, who receive and process that information and pass on the results to many other modules. (But “module” is a misleading metaphor useful only with the caveat that the assemblages of neutrons implied by it are largely ad-hoc and temporary). This metaphor is in my opinion somewhat misleading. True, Ingram remarks that the audience and the actors change places, but I think it misses something. That something is expressed in Yeats’ question: “Who can tell the dancer from the dance?”
     I think that consciousness is not the theatre but the play. It’s an improvised play, its action changes from moment to moment, the scenes change without warning as actors leave the stage and others enter or re-enter, but the play follows and keeps returning to certain central themes. Some of these are built in: we have human brains, after all, and not equine ones. Others are developed as we become Selves: the plot of the play, ephemeral and inconsistent as it is, is what we experience a “me”. That “me” is not fixed. We experience change in ourselves, we expect it, we often glory in it. But the thread of the story is somehow not lost. That thread gives us the feeling that we are the same person, no matter how many changes have been visited upon us.
     Ingram’s book may be heavy going for people who haven’t acquired some background in brain studies, even though he tries hard to frequently bring us back to familiar experience. But I think the book is worth reading and re-reading. It’s also a pleasure. Ingram comes across a person who wants to figure things out, who wants us to accompany him on his journey of discovery. He’s not so much a guide as a fellow seeker. He's good company.
     There’s a good deal more in this book than I’ve mentioned. ***½

Cleve F. Adams. The Black Door (1941, reprinted 1952)

     Cleve F. Adams. The Black Door (1941, reprinted 1952 in a Popular Library edition) Flagg has been given a do-nothing job because his fiancée is the daughter of a tycoon. Some social and some business secrets get all mixed up and he finds himself investigating a friend of his fiancée’s, who is after his bod. I stopped reading halfway through this “Hard-Boiled Detective Novel,” as I couldn’t care enough about the characters or their predicaments. The story would work quite well as B-movie, which would also have the advantage of requiring only 90 minutes or so of my time instead of several hours.. As it is, it has historical interest only, as an example of its genre as produced in the pre-war period. * (2005)

I binged on Charlie Salter: Four book reviews

    Eric Wright. A Sensitive Case (1991) A massage therapist is murdered, and several of her clients get nervous, so Charlie, head of Special Affairs, gets the case. The usual false leads, multiple mysteries, and family crises make for the usual enjoyable mix. Charlie solves three puzzles, his assistant, Sgt Pickett, borrowed from Bail and Parole for the occasion, has his own personal mystery and problem to solve, and it all comes out right in the end. What makes this series work is Charlie, a believable middle-aged husband and father who happens to be a cop, and a pretty good one. In many ways, the series is like a comic strip, with familiar characters getting into familiar disputes and resolving them in plausible ways.
     The puzzle is well done, although Wright withholds information from the reader, and doesn’t have Christie’s knack for mixing the disinformation into the significant clues. His murderers tend to be losers, committing their killings more by accident than intent, and then attempting to cover their traces, so that it’s not the method of murder that is puzzling, but the who and why. And tangentially involved people have their own secrets; their efforts to keep them hidden add irrelevant information, Charlie’s main task is to sort out the two or three irrelevant stories so as to get at the one that matters. Just like real life, actually. *** (2005)

      Eric Wright. Final Cut (1992) This time Charlie is seconded to “advise” a film crew, after his old boss Orliff bows out because sabotage has turned his advisory role into an investigative one, and as he’s retired he won’t do it. Charlie unravels the puzzle, which involves East Bloc intrigues of many years ago. In the end, Salter lets the perp go, not because he has any real qualms about the justice system, but because he won’t ever be able to prove his case; and he discovers he doesn’t want to, as the murder was itself a kind of justice.
     The atmosphere of the filming rings true, that is, it conforms with what little I’ve observed going on in Toronto when there’s filming, which is getting to be an annoyance. In the back story, Seth is entranced by ballet and eventually, it seems, decides he wants to act. The usual minor tiffs threaten the tranquillity of Salter’s domestic life, but he and Annie manage to muddle along.  *** (2005)

    Eric Wright. A Fine Italian Hand (1992) Special Affairs is called in because a motel clerk thought that a suspicious character was Italian, so it looks like a mob hit. But it isn’t. Nor is the victim an unlucky gambler. And so on. The misdirection misleads Charlie for a while, until he gets messages from the mob that this was not one of their hits. It turns out that it was intended to look like a mob hit, but the intended victim turned the tables. Charlie and his latest sidekick solve the puzzle, of course, and Wright gives us more of Charlie’s backstory, this time an old college flame. Annie’s father has had a stroke, so Annie is in PEI trying to cope with her mother’s demands. Entertaining as always. **½ (2003) 
 

    Eric Wright Death by Degrees (1993) Salter’s Dad has had a stroke, and to take his mind off his 
misery, Salter takes on an inquiry into the death of a careerist instructor at a college. He uncovers the usual unsavoury secrets from the past, and one of these provides the key to the solution. Wright doesn’t like pat psychobabble reasons for murder, so this one (like other recent cases Salter has investigated) turns out to be an accidental homicide, with just enough motivation to make that verdict doubtful. Nicely done, and apparently the last of the Salter novels, until I find some more. **½ (2005)

 

Two more Charlie Salter novels (by Eric Wright)

     Eric Wright. A Body Surrounded by Water (1987) The title alludes to the setting, which is Charlie Salter’s holiday on PEI with his family. As in all Charlie Salter novels, the family dynamics are as important as the crime puzzle, and we see here how the dynamics change as the boys grow up and Charlie and Annie discover, again, new facets of each other. Nicely done. The puzzle is pretty good, too, involving the Great Seal of the province, which was stolen a long, long time ago, and two accidental homicides. Salter gets on well with the Mounties, who police this Province, mostly because he’s not a pushy guy, but also because he provides a handy conduit to the politicians, which the Mountie sergeant needs. *** (2005)

     Eric Wright. A Question of Murder (1988) A bomb kills a man in van parked underground shortly after the Princess tours Yorkville. Salter is saddled with the unsolvable crime, unsolvable because the bomb is a professional type, so it looks like a hit. But Salter manages to tease out the truth, and arrives at a satisfactory conclusion, which is good, since his boss is retiring, and Salter will take over the job at Special Affairs. At home, Seth has decided his grandfather is lonely, which upsets the old man; but then Seth wants Mr Salter’s oral history, which smooths the waters. Angus wants to stay in Toronto over the summer with his girlfriend. Annie’s career has solidified, so she can tell Salter, who’s waffling about whether he wants to retire too, that his decision can and should be made entirely by himself. He won’t jeopardise his family’s security, financial or otherwise. Another satisfying read. *** (2005)