Rosamund Pilcher The Empty House (1973)

     Rosamund Pilcher The Empty House (1973) My mother used to get Woman’s Own. I read three parts of it faithfully: the agony column, a cartoon about a “Watchbird” watching the bad behaviour of some unfortunate child, and the stories. I usually skipped the serials, but I liked the short stories “complete on these two pages”. They established their setting and plot within the first two or three paragraphs, relied heavily on dialogue, and resolved into some kind of happiness, or at least contentment. I learned a lot from them. Together with the agony column, they gave a portrait of What Women Want. They also showed how to get a story moving quickly, and how to sketch character with minimal means.
     Rosamund Pilcher writes these kinds of stories. They focus on what was long presented as the central concern of women: family life, which entails the search for a suitable husband. Love romances still focus on these twin desires; that their heroines now are more “emancipated”, i.e., sexual, and engage in all kinds of careers, merely reflects current received wisdom. The love romance has also branched out into subgenres: cowboys, historical (usually set in the Regency period, when men and women dressed in gorgeous clothes), mystery and thriller, and corporate power struggles. But the basic plot still remains: the heroine must find and win her ideal mate.
     Pilcher’s story here is the old-fashioned kind, no sex, no crime, no difficulties with work or career. Virginia, recently widowed (from an unsuitable mate) with two children, dominated by her dead husband’s mother and Nanny, returns to Cornwall for a holiday and re-encounters Eustace, the only man who (ten years earlier) ever saw her as herself. He is of course older than she (by ten years, with discreetly noticed grey hair), masterful (he owns and operates the largest farm in the district), sensitive (he arranges that the empty house she rents will be cleaned and stocked with food), and very manly (he has intense blue eyes before whose gaze she wilts). After a few mild difficulties with her mother-in-law and the Nanny, and the couple of mild misunderstandings between herself and Eustace, all ends well. The flashbacks fill in the ten years and explain why Virginia married the wrong man. Eustace accepts this man’s children without a qualm, which of course clinches his suitability as the Ideal Man.
     I’m a sucker for Romance, and enjoyed this mild entertainment while I read it. Better than average of its kind. It would make a good “women’s movie”, as they used to be called. **½

Michael Rix. Industrial Archeology (1967)

     Michael Rix. Industrial Archeology (1967) In this pamphlet published by the Historical Association, Rix makes the case for recording, studying, and preserving the remnants of the early industrial revolution. His remarks seem quaint now, with so many preservation societies in England and elsewhere, and the fashion for working museums that not only preserve the artefacts but also to demonstrate their function and use. The Hamilton (Ontario) Pumphouse comes to mind, among many others. But at the time his plea for the preservation of industrial artefacts was expressed a new appreciation for out technological history.
     Rix stayed with us while on a trip across Canada; he was a nice chap, recommended to us by Uncle Paul. His other enthusiasm was the Great Western Railway, and railways in general. He was delighted to be able to ride the train here (the Budd car was still operated by the CPR back then), and we had a pleasant visit. He died of a heart attack not long after; like many single men, he did not take his health seriously, and ignored the warning signs. He committed the term ‘industrial archeology’ to print in an article he wrote for The Amateur Historian, thus giving it respectability, though some academics jibbed at it at first. Two pages of photographs. **½ (2007)

Anonymous. The Tank Engines (n.d, early 1970s)

     Anonymous. The Tank Engines (n.d, early 1970s) A 32-page picture album of NZ Railways tank engines, of which there were many classes used in every kind of traffic. The photos are just fine for a railway fan, especially a NZ one, and fairly well reproduced. I’m trying to get rid of this book, but so far (23 July 2007) no takers. ** (2007)
     Update 2013: if you want this pamhplet, send me an e-mail. Free, including postage, but you must donate a suitable sum to your favourite charity.

Rex Stout. The Rubber Band (1964)

     Rex Stout. The Rubber Band (1964) A theft, a murder, and an ancient (and outdated) debt come together in this confection. Wolfe, Archie, Cramer and the rest behave as expected, the puzzle is neat and fairly clued, and Stout’s wit is fresher than usual. He targets the respectable and mighty with a few satiric darts, and alludes to Wodehouse in his language. Good entertainment. I usually read two or three of these confections at a time, but this was the only one available. **½ (2007)

John Gribbin & Jeremy Cherfas. The First Chimpanzee (2001)

    John Gribbin & Jeremy Cherfas. The First Chimpanzee (2001) An extended (and unnecessarily long IMO) argument that humans, chimps, and gorillas shared a common hominid ancestor some 3 to 4 M years ago. In other words, the chimp-gorilla line did not split from the human line before the evolution of hominids, but afterwards. That would make chimps and gorillas hominids. This hypothesis was developed by Sarich and Wilson in the late 1960s, when the molecular clock was first calibrated.
     The argument rests on molecular biology, and the development of the molecular clock. It’s been shown that DNA/RNA and hence proteins evolve at surprisingly steady rates. This enables the calculation not of dates but of ratios of time spans, and hence of the relative positions of divergence points in the evolutionary trees of related species. Fossil evidence has calibrated the molecular clock pretty accurately for non-human genera, and for vertebrates and chordates generally, so that its application to the primate group should be a no-brainer. However, it seems that paleontologists don’t like to have their speculations checked by objective evidence from a different discipline. Even amongst themselves, they get rather testy when a colleague finds a fossil that requires “re-evaluation” of existing guesses.
     Along the way, Gribbin and Cherfas provide reams of interesting data, the most important of which is that the sum total of all humanoid fossils could be laid out on a dining room table. Most of them are teeth.
     Insofar as I can judge the evidence, I go with Gribbin and Cherfas. Well written but somewhat whingey in the final chapters, where they discuss the reception of the Sarich-Wilson hypothesis **½ (2007)

Mordecai Richler. The Best of Modern Humour (1983)

      Mordecai Richler. The Best of Modern Humour (1983) Nothing dates as fast as taste in humour. Here it is a mere quarter century after Richler's collection appeared, and most of the pieces already seem dated. That is, their humour is lame, jejune, and superficial. Richler likes the New Yorker type, and while not all the pieces in here were first published in that magazine, many of the later ones read as if they should have been. Richler is a satirist, and most of the pieces he has selected are satires. The oldest ones, from the turn of the 20th century, are the best, I think. Lasting humour reveals itself with age, as current concerns and fashionable twitches recede into the misty twilight of history. Leacock’s “Gertrude the Governess” opens the collection,, and it is by far the best piece in it. I won’t keep this book, as I no longer feel the need to have such representative anthologies by me. They are really reference works. ** (2007)

Ngaio Marsh. Death in a White Tie (1938)

      Ngaio Marsh. Death in a White Tie (1938) The fourth Alleyn mystery, IIRC. Lord Robert Gospell is killed on his way home from a party. He has been helping Alleyn gather evidence about a blackmailing racket. A charming man, much more intelligent than his looks and manner suggested, he was a much loved figure in Society. The killer was the blackmailer. Marsh is in fine form here, she has a satirical eye as well as a very good sense of character. the puzzle is well done, and we hardly notice that Alleyn behaves more like a private detective than a policeman. Agatha Troy appears on the fringes of the case, which gives Alleyn an opportunity to avow his love for her, which she eventually returns. So that’s all right. A pleasurable read (for the second or third time). **½ (2007)