Gertrude Chandler Warner. The Boxcar Children (1942)

     Gertrude Chandler Warner. The Boxcar Children (1942) A teacher, Warner wanted to write an interesting  story for beginning readers. She succeeded. Her readers loved the independence of the children in the story. Orphans  Henry, Violet, Jessie, and Benny Alden are on the run because they don’t want to be found by their grandfather, whom they believe to be a mean man. They find a boxcar to live in, and a wounded dog for company. Henry, who is old enough to do so, goes into town to work part-time for a doctor, who eventually reunites them all with their grandfather, who is anything but mean. So they live happily ever after. Except that the readers wanted more stories about these children. Warner obliged with a string of mysteries; eighteen more books are listed here. This edition dates from1950, with well done silhouetted illustrations by Kate Deal.
     Warner’s style is simple and straightforward, as is her narrative, which she spices up with a few hints of possible dangers and events that aren’t explained until the end of the tale. She glides over a few improbabilities (less improbable then than now), and the characterisation is about as simple as can be. A good deal of the story is carried by dialogue. I’m not surprised that beginning readers enjoyed the book, and wanted more. I suspect that Warner’s skills improved, and would like to find a later book to see whether that in fact happened. *** (2007)

Ellis Peters. The Will and the Deed (1960)

    Ellis Peters. The Will and the Deed (1960) A diva dies, her presumptive heirs fly to England, but a storm brings them down on an alpine meadow in Austria. The will is read, and it’s not at all as expected. The residual heir is murdered, and the evidence points to the nephew, who is actually provably innocent. The murderer was the lawyer, who stole what he thought were crown jewels, but in fact they are paste costume jewelry.  He dies trying to save them, since he has destroyed his career by committing the theft. So there are two deaths, two near deaths, and a shattered career, and all for £100 worth of glitz. But the two youngsters that should fall in love do so, and with the money from the dead woman will be able to set up a very pleasant life.
     Peters is a competent constructor of entertainments, this time a mystery romance. A keeper only because I’m collecting her books. ** (2007)

John Mortimer. Rumpole and the Penge Bungalow Murders (2004)

    John Mortimer. Rumpole and the Penge Bungalow Murders (2004) At last we have the authoritative and complete account of the case that made Rumpole’s reputation, consolidated his preference for defending criminals, and resulted in his marriage to Hilda, daughter of the Head of Chambers, and the leader in the case. The prisoner sacks this eminent example of the finest traditions of the bar, and insists on Rumpole defending him.
     The plot is simple enough: the son of a supposed war hero is accused of the murders, but Rumpole unearths evidence that suggests not only that the dead man and his comrade were traitors but were also murderers. The likely executioner of this unpleasant pair disappears, conveniently for Mortimer, who is thus relieved of having to tie up that loose end. A few minor kerfuffles in chambers also yield to Rumpole’s discreet intervention. It looks like this is Rumpole’s last appearance, since it answers the all-important question of why he married Hilda: because she told him to. But there are signs of some weariness in Mortimer’s writing; the book is as clear as ever, but it lacks the edge and crackle that we expect of Rumpole, that self described hack, champion of justice in the face of the awful machinery of the law. **½ (2007)

Richard J. Cook. Super power Steam Locomotives (1966)

     Richard J. Cook. Super power Steam Locomotives (1966) A handsome book, including a summary history of Lima Locomotives, followed by a reproduction of one its catalogues, followed by a photo section showing first the building of a steam locomotive, and then pictures of the engines at work. Like most books produced by fans who lack academic training in how to present information, it’s somewhat of a hodgepodge, and lacks such useful apparatus as a table of contents and an index. This severely reduces the book’s usefulness, not entirely offset by the high quality of the printing. I bought this book in 1967 or 68, when there were very few books about steam engines or railroad subjects. The photos are technically very good, but in most there isn’t enough visual context, such as landscape, trackside buildings, etc, to locate the engines. They could be anywhere. Lima designed its locomotives to a house style that the railroads could not disguise with options such the placement of feedwater heaters and airpumps, so that the engines become oddly anonymous. ** (2007)

Edwin P. Alexander. American Locomotives ... 1900-1950 (1950

     Edwin P. Alexander. American Locomotives ... 1900-1950 (1950; reprint by Bonanza Books n.d.) A catalogue raisonné of steam locomotives built between the dates given. Photo and drawing of each, with technical data and a historical note. Alexander claims every locomotive is significant in some way, so his notes are rather repetitive. A good reference if you happen to need some data about one of the locos. Since they are in chronological order, the absence of an index by type, builder, etc,  is inexplicable. Printing quality is above average for Bonanza Books, who seem to have specialised in muddy photo-reproduction of popular books. * (2007)

Garrison Keillor. ME by Jimmy (Big Boy) Valente (1999)

     Garrison Keillor. ME by Jimmy (Big Boy) Valente (1999) Keillor’s satire written as a comment on the election of Jesse Ventura as governor of Minnesota. Very mild, actually, and in places the narrative voice seems more Keillor’s than Valente’s. I know nothing of Ventura’s career as a wrestler, nor of his career as governor, He apparently did no lasting harm, if he did any. As a satire on TV, wrestling, the gullibility of the semi-schooled public, conservatives, liberals, and assorted riffraff, it works reasonably well. But Keillor lacks the satirist’s rage. He is more bemused than angered by the follies and vices of his fellow citizens. A decent read, not a great one. ** (2007)

Brian Aldiss, ed. Galactic Empires: Volume two (1976)

     Brian Aldiss, ed. Galactic Empires: Volume two (1976) Aldiss has assembled a good collection of the future history genre of SF, ranging from the swashbuckling space opera to the most subtle of mathematico-philosophical speculations. In all of them some empire-like polity is imagined, and plot points hinge as much on the structure of that polity as on the characters. One of Aldiss’s strengths is that he chooses stories with strong though not always complex characterisation, so that the stories are less thesis-driven than most SF. That makes these stories engaging; that, and the archetypal elements of which they’re built, as Aldiss recognises and points out. It’s been a while since I binged on SF. This book provided several hours of entertaining and thought-provoking reading. A few stories are shaggy jokes, but most are more serious (though not solemn) explorations of the notions of power and government.
     The assumption underlying all the stories is that the larger the society, the more authoritarian it will be. And they all take for granted that power tends to corrupt, everyone except the noble hero, that is. In many, stagnation is seen as an inevitable byproduct of the stability of a powerful empire, and the barbarian invasions as a welcome and necessary revitalisation of the culture. Several stories assume that humanity’s striving for something beyond itself will be unique in the galaxy, a dubious assumption. The treatment of gender and sex tends to be simplistic and very much of the time in which the stories were written, with men taking leading roles, and even powerful women tending to melt into sex kittens as soon as the hero looks at them with lustful intention. No wonder that women generally haven’t liked SF. There are also several stories with simplistic notions of mind, the kind of notions that enable telepathy and the insertion of alien egos into human brains.
     But most stories deal with the human (and alien) costs of the changes and conflicts that are an inevitable byproduct of government. Thoreau’s implicit idea that eventually, perhaps, humans would need no government, is emphatically denied here. To be intelligent and to live in societies means to govern and be governed, to dominate and to resist domination. The result is that the most common tone is elegiac and tragic, for even the most advanced race must eventually face its own extinction.. The comic spirit shows up mostly as satire, equating humans with vermin, for example.
     All in all, the book is worth keeping. ** (2007)