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     I've noticed a gratifying uptick in traffic to this blog. Thanks to all of you who read it. Please comment. I'd like to know what you like and don't like, and why. I write to please myself, but I also write to be read. I won't change what and how I write, but your comments would certainly help me choose what to publish.
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Don't Sell The House! (Pilgrim’s Rest book review)

     Patricia Wentworth. Pilgrim’s Rest (1946) The Pilgrims have lived at Pilgrim’s Rest for generations. When Major Roger Pilgrim announces his intention to sell, he dies in a riding accident. Robert Pilgrim fears it wasn’t an accident, and that he’s next. He retains Miss Silver to discover the truth. He too dies shortly after he announces he intends to sell.
     And so it goes. In all, there are four deaths, past misdeeds, dysfunctional families, secrets, and the surprise appearance of a key witness who provides the evidence that resolves the case. Miss Silver has done it again! But Patricia Wentworth has not. That surprise witness is brought in because she’s written herself into a corner.
     A pleasant read. Good dialogue, well drawn characters, nicely done reversals. The story is set in 1943, which makes it historical fiction when read now. **

Death on the Couch (Kate Fansler mystery)

     Amanda Cross. In the Last Analysis (1964) A reread, and worth it. A student asks Prof Kate Fansler to recommend a good psychiatrist and ends up murdered on his couch. Complicated plot, but most of the solution is plain by the middle of the book. Knowing that this is the first Fansler story, I noticed a few things that Cross does better in the later tales, such as dialogue (overlong speeches here), and red herrings (a pale pink here).

     A good read. I’ve read several of the Fansler stories, and will continue to look for the ones I’ve missed. Fansler is presented as a happy career woman who likes male company but doesn’t need it. The novel ends with Fansler and Amherst Reed sailing to Europe on the same ship. In later episodes, she’s married to him; here, he’s one of several secondary characters providing essential information. **½

An Unkindness of Ravens (book review)

    Ruth Rendell. An Unkindness of Ravens (1985) A late entry in the Det. Inspector Wexford series. A neighbour’s husband goes missing, two months later a dog digs up the body. He’s a bigamist, supposedly with a lech for young girls. And so on. A well done puzzle with enough red herrings to stock a fish farm. Feminism, incest, Jenny Burden’s pregnancy, Reg and Dora’s visits to the theatre to watch their daughter perform, tennis matches, a second murder, an attempted murder, ravens with women’s heads printed on T-shirts, and wet weather all figure in the story.
     Uncharacteristically for a Wexford, twisted psychology motivates the crimes. A pleasant enough entertainment. **½

A Flea in Jesus's Ear

    Karl Heinrich Waggerl. Und Es Begab Sich (And it Came to Pass) (1953) A collection of very short tales around the birth of Jesus Christ. A flea that creeps into Jesus’s ear and tickles him. A shepherd boy who show the baby Jesus how to suck his thumb. Etc. Waggerl was known for his sentimental stories; his style is that of the story-teller, albeit somewhat more formal than we now expect. The little book is nicely decorated with coloured wood cuts. I received it as a gift a few decades ago, and will pass it on. **

Ask the Cards a Question, the Answer is Murder

    Marcia Muller. Ask the Cards a Question (1982) Nice little potboiler in which PI Sharon McCone deals with an alcoholic friend, two murders in her apartment block, her intermittent relationship with Lt Greg Marcus, theft, a couple of sad sack husbands, and so on. Well plotted, undemanding narration, with a bit more edginess would make a good TV series. The title refers to two kinds of cards, one of which is the clue to the motive that leads to the murderer. I like this series, but don’t go out of my way to find the book. **

Candide, a puppet

     Voltaire. Candide (1759. This edition, 1930, Illustrated Editions Co, New York) I first read this book some 50 years ago, and couldn’t remember a single thing about it. In fact, I knew the famous “Let us tend our gardens” line that ends it only from 3rd party discussions and references. So you may think that re-reading would be a revelation.
     Well, the revelation is the reason that the book was a blank: it’s the most boring, uninvolving, mechanically constructed “story” I’ve ever read. I suppose in its day it was daring, provoking, a poke in the complacent citizen’s eye, an insult to the philosophers, and so on. But that’s just a reminder that there wasn’t much reading matter available in Voltaire’s day, and the average was pretty low. It didn’t take much to effort to jump over the bar, and Voltaire did not exert himself. Or else the book proves that fiction is somewhat more difficult than essays.
     I just didn’t care about Candide or any of the other characters. It’s clear I was supposed to react to the horrible things that were done by various evildoers, and to laugh at Candide’s naive insistence that despite these horrors the world was the best it could be, and so on. But the characters are mere ciphers. They are satirical theses with labels attached.
     Compare Candide with Gulliver’s Travels, published about 30 years earlier, and known to Voltaire. What a difference. Gulliver, a naif like Candide, is fully rounded. We believe Gulliver’s reactions and feelings because they spring from his character. What’s more, he changes. He moves from one naivete (that the world is as it should be) to another (that there’s nothing good in the world).  Candide is a badly made puppet, and Voltaire an unskilled puppeteer. Voltaire is also inconsistent: people cheerfully steal the treasures Candide brings back from Eldorado, cheat him when he sells parts of it, renege on their promises, but he always has a few more diamonds to sell. Why doesn’t someone just beat him up and rifle through his pockets? In the fantastic world that Voltaire has posited, that omission is flat out incredible.
      I took four evenings to get through this book. Overrated. *