Julian Symons. The Great Detectives (1981)

     Julian Symons. The Great Detectives (1981) Illustrated by Tom Adams. Symons, a pretty good maker of detective puzzles himself, has taken on the task of assembling “biographies” of seven of the most popular fictions: Holmes, Miss Marple, Ellery Queen, Maigret, Poirot, Nero Wolfe, and Philip Marlowe. He does a lovely job, utilising various genres, and mischievously and ingeniously suggesting possible links between the sleuths. Very well done pastiches, with excellent period illustrations by Adams, who took great care to match the pictures to the books. End notes supply the sources for the information included in the bios, but Symons doesn’t hesitate to add his inventions where the canon leaves gaps. I bought this book as remaindered copy some years ago, but didn’t read it until now. I liked it. *** (2005)

Eberhard Freiherr von Kuenssberg, ed. Der Sachsenspiegel (nd, but ca 1935)

     Eberhard Freiherr von Kuenssberg, ed. Der Sachsenspiegel (nd, but ca 1935). Another book from the Insel Verlag series, this one reproducing selected illustrations of a medieval law book, originally compiled and written by what we would call a sheriff. A medieval sheriff was more than a cop, though, his duties were primarily those of a magistrate. The introduction by Kuenssberg is historically accurate as far as I can tell. There’s no doubt that the Sachsenspiegel (Mirror of the Saxons) was a major document in the development of law and jurisprudence as we understand it, since it codified existing practice and so provided precedents. The effect of Nazi ideology is much weaker in this work than the book about the Minnesinger, but it does show up in references to German “Volkstum” and other such vague, romanticised notions of blood and soil. ** (2005)

Hans Naumann. Die Minnesinger in Bildern (nd, but ca. 1935)

     Hans Naumann. Die Minnesinger in Bildern (nd, but ca. 1935) One of the Insel Verlag series , the book reproduces a number of medieval paintings of German courtly love poets, made some time after the height of the fashion. The colour printing is state of the art for the 1930s, and quite attractive, although time and oxygen have darkened the pages. The Geleitwort (guide-word, i.e., introduction) by Naumann is interesting in its obvious reflection of Nazi ideology. There is no mention whatsoever of the origin of courtly love in the Provence. The whole phenomenon is presented as a strictly German expression of the culture of the noble knight, which itself is also presented with no reference to sources outside Germany. Germany at the time of the Minnesinger did not exist, but was a mess of princelings and kings quarrelling with each other over little patches of land for which there was no documented ownership, but this fact is simply passed over. Interesting example of how ideology distorts historical writing. *** for the pictures, * for the text. (2005)

Michael Gnarowski, ed. Selected Stories of Raymond Knister (1972)

     Michael Gnarowski, ed. Selected Stories of Raymond Knister (1972) A text for Canadian studies, no doubt, and very much of its time. Gnarowski was clearly earning points by editing this book, and more power to him. His introduction is squarely aimed at undergrads, and he labours mightily to make Knister seem more significant than he is. The fiction is also very much of its time: written just before the Depression, it belongs to the Grim Realism school of American fiction (not Canadian, despite its occasional reference to Canadian locales.) Gloom, doom, and self-conscious use of portentous symbolism. Very few people made this style work, and Knister was at best merely a journeyman in it. I skimmed these tales, pausing occasionally to read a couple of pages closely, but the reward for my diligence was slight. * (2005)

Frank Barrett. Where was Wonderland? (1997)

     Frank Barrett. Where was Wonderland? (1997) A traveller’s guide to places and locations related to classic children’s stories, almost all British. Good enough as tour guide, but only just. The maps suffer from a lack of scale, the bios from a lack of telling detail. Why do publisher's think that children's non-fiction needn't be made and edited to the same standard as that intended for adults? * (2005)

‘BB’ The Forest of Boland Light Railway (1955)

     ‘BB’ The Forest of Boland Light Railway (1955) In this fantasy, written for children, the gnomes build a Railway to help them get their gold from the mine. Their mortal enemies, the leprechauns, attack, are defeated, attack again, win, and are finally routed with the help of the cowzies. The whole thing is a bit odd, an strange mix of twee daintiness, with coy references to wombies (female gnomes) and gombies (gnome children), and allusions to quite brutal doings. The gnomes are not cute looking little old men a la Disney, but the real thing, with large noses and ears and hair, lots of hair.
    The book has inspired at least one modeller, Andrew McLellan, to build a layout, see:
http://www.countrysidemodels.co.uk/gallery_boland/fobmain.htm
     but Andrew did not follow BB’s lead and make a quasi-GWR narrow- gauge loco, and decided that the locos must be more along the lines of Blenkinsop's and other pre-Stephenson products. The book seems to have a cult following, or rather the author does, for he also committed a lot of nature writing of the kind that is gently mocked by Evelyn Waugh in Scoop, as far as I can make out. I likely won’t ever read this book again, but it does inspire thoughts of a fantastic narrow gauge layout. ** (2005)

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)