The Books I Read In September

 Fiction

'The Dark Mile' by D.K. Broster

This is the final book in The Jacobite Trilogy. It should not be confused with the 2017 movie of the same name. Here the name comes from a genuine stretch of the Highland countryside between Loch Arkaig and Loch Lochy which you can walk even today: https://www.komoot.com/highlight/4639016  This website mentions the genuine Cameron of Locheil laird who features in the first book in this trilogy.

While this novel ties up some aspects from the previous book, 'The Gleam in the North' (1927) which I read in July: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2026/07/books-i-read-in-july.html it has a lot less of a political focus and is much more a family drama set in the western Highlands. It is set in 1754/55, so a decade after the defeat of the Jacobites at Culloden, but still with an English occupying force in castles through the Highlands and numerous restrictions, e.g. no Highlander can wear tartan - causing challenge indentifying staff; own a weapon, even for shooting birds or a sword; and the lairds are no longer allowed to be called 'Lord', though Lady Cameron seems to be allowed to keep her title. While we see Ewen Cameron of Ardoy and he plays an important role the greater focus is on his cousin Captain Hector Grant, from the previous book, who has inherited an estate in the Highlands and sees an opportunity to propose marriage to Jacqueline Stewart, a distant relative of the Camerons. 

The other prime protagonist is Ian Stewart, Jacqueline's brother. He inadvertently rescues Olivia Campbell, without knowing she is one of the Campbells of Cairns and her father was commander of the unit with shot Ian's elder brother, Alan, at the Battle of Culloden. While soon the Ian and Olivia are quickly besotted with each other, at a series of encounters, they realise they have to deny their affection for the peace of mind of their families. Ian works hard to try forget Olivia even her willingness to express her affection for him increases. Broster rather bottles it in the writing however. She will not have, despite what is clearly described as an intense passion, love conquer all and instead of the two perhaps bringing peace between the two clans as a result of a marriage, there is a rather contrived work around which I guess some readers, even Scots, might have felt at the time was a missed opportunity.

There is another main point of tension in the book spilling over from the experience of the 1745 uprising and its aftermath. The first is the question of who wrote the letter in the previous book which alerted the English authorities to where Dr. Archibald Cameron, the Jacobite treasurer in Scotland, was hiding out which led to his arrest and ultimate execution. We soon know it to be David Maitland who wanted to see the end to the trouble that Cameron being on the run was causing in terms of the oppression by the English forces, believing it would lead to prosecution rather than execution. However, this is not known to most people at the start of the story. 

One who does come to know is Finlay MacPhair, the new and nasty laird of Glenshian. He was an English agent but left poor by the war, feels he has not received his proper recompense. Ultimately he tries to blackmail Maitland into saying it was he, the laird, who wrote the damning letter, but Maitland, already suicidal, startled at MacPhair's confession of collaboration gets away only to find that Hector has already confronted MacPhair believing himself that the laird was the author of Maitland's letter. MacPhair is a real antagonist. His schemes are to gain money. He fakes the abduction of two of his cattle by Ewen and insists he pay compensation for eighty cattle. He confines Hector in worsening conditions to try to force him to apologise for his accusation, even though ironically he wants Maitland to say it is true. These schemes, despite a dramatic rescue of the suffering Hector, rather fade as the novel progresses. Similarly though Hector has actually fought a duel with Ian, his romance with Jacqueline also drifts off rather unresolved.

This is not a bad book and does very well at conjuring up the times and the dramatic landscape. Broster does seem to get rather tied up in her crossplots, though maybe that was intentional to show how much power had been taken from the Highlanders that even a devious one was unable to win through if the English were not agreeable to what he was striving for. I found this the easiest of the three books to get through though I do not typically read romances and this is full-on in that aspect at times. However, do regret my nostalgia for the 1976 TV dramatisation of the first book, 'The Flight of the Heron' (1925) https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2026/06/the-books-i-read-in-june.html which led me to buy the entire trilogy. I forgot two things: that the versions of stories for children are often shorn of the bleakness and cruelty of the adult versions and that you should never revisit childhood favourites as you will generally find them a disappointment.

Having suffered from it myself on coming to Scotland, I was glad to see though that orophobia especially in the face of Scottish uplands, was recognised as a legitimate condition in a novel, even one from a century ago.

'The Wings of the Sphinx' by Andrea Camilleri

This is a straight forward Montalbano story which starts with the discovery of a dead woman's body found in a dump. The distinguishing mark is a tattoo on her shoulder of a sphinx moth. This then takes Montalbano into the investigation of three other women also from Russia who have been tattooed in the same way. In turn this leads to a religious charity which seeks to get such immigrants out of prostitution or drug dealing into domestic service roles. What is interesting, perhaps clever, is that the quartet, despite coming from the same home town and having similar stories, in fact are different from each other in the paths they choose, with some being honest, others not; some being integrated, others remaining apart. In addition, perhaps unusually, the charity itself is not rotten right through and it finally transpires that only certain members are engaging in criminal activity, while others are innocent.

 Identifying the four women, determining their different characters from more or less biased witnesses, finding who is dead and who is alive, and seeing how the criminality of one bisects with another murder, provides the mystery. Supporters of the charity put pressure for Montalbano to back off, though ultimately he does work out those who should be charged. As is typical for many detective stories set in Italy, there is often a distance between identifying perpetrators and having them arrested, let alone charged. In some ways this is a simple story with the usual 'business' of Montalbano eating various Sicilian dishes, rowing with his girlfriend and speculating on life, but the subtlety between what different individuals are up to is well handled rather than it being a 'blanket' approach of 'they are all bad in that group'.

'Noughts and Crosses' by Malorie Blackman

I was interested in this book because it is an alternate history. It is set on Earth in contemporary times but if Pangaea had never broken up. Historically rather than 'Europeans' colonising Africa, 'Africans' migrated from the south of the super-continent gathering technology such as paper and gunpowder which then allowed them to conquer and subjugate the white population of what appears to be the north-west coastal region. Not much detail is provided, though with a strong sense of parallelism black African inventors who we have in our world also existed in this alternative and are taught about in schools. Clearly Blackman wanted these names which are largely 'forgotten' in Western culture, to be remembered. 

In this world black people are known as 'Crosses' (insulted as 'daggers') and white people as 'Noughts' (insulted as 'blankers'). There is strong racial discrimination and while it appears to be set in the 21st Century, the exclusion of white people from many opportunities and the inherent prejudice against them as ignorant, criminal and violent, seems primarily based on the US South in the 1950s and South Africa of the 1980s, though prejudicial treatment of whites by the police is of course like that currently seen by blacks in many countries. There is mention of mixed-race black/white people but not of any other races in this world. Blackman implies that the legal segregation would have persisted decades longer if black people had been in charge than if white people had been. Concessions are only being made due to pressure from the economic bloc that this 'British' portion of the continent is part of.

The novel itself is a romance between two teenagers Persephone 'Sephy' Hadley and Callum McGregor who is slightly older. Callum's mother, Meggie worked as a nanny then cleaner for Sephy's mother, Jasmine until she failed to back up an alibi of Jasmine's to cover her affair from her husband. While living close to the Hadleys, the McGregors are very poor like most noughts. Sephy's father is Home Secretary and they live in an expensive house close to the beach where the two lovers meet. 

The politics, culture and the language appears to be very British (the swearword 'ruddy' is even used) though with US examples providing the racial system and even public executions. Callum is very intelligent and is one of the small number of noughts first allowed to attend Sephy's school, though this opens him up to more prejudice.

Various incidents lead Callum and his family to be involved with the Liberation Militia, a kind of cross between the IRA and the Black Panthers but for white people. They engage in terrorist activity and this means they face the full force of the law, all bar Meggie going on the run, with tragic circumstances. Throughout Callum tries to keep in contact with Sephy and it is clear as they mature that their love becomes deeper. There is no under-age sex in the book, but Callum does reappear when the two of them are old enough to legally have sex.

It is a very tragic book. It is clearly aimed not at adults but at children so the various messages are laid on very heavily. The point of view switches consistently between Sephy and Callum sometimes with incredibly short chapters. There are points of tension especially in the closing phase of the book, combined with what feels like a genuine romance across the races. However, I think most adult readers would feel the themes are laid on rather too thickly and the story hares along too fast to be an engaging book. I would not buy the other books in the series.

'A Gun for Sale' by Graham Greene

This novel from 1936 continues to show how Greene was the 'king' of sleazy contexts. It shares many of the traits of the other novels by him I have read this year including a small set of characters and coincidences which rather stretch credibility.. It centres on an English assassin called Raven who kills the War Minister of Czechoslovakia and also murders his housekeeper at the same time. Returning to Britain Raven is paid off by a man he knows as Mr. Cholmondeley. Raven is paid £200 (worth about £50-80,000 today) in bank notes which prove to have been recently stolen and the serial numbers on them are known. Raven goes in pursuit of Cholmondeley who returns to his home town of Nottwich in the Midlands. Raven manages to elude police and get after his quarry.

To get out of the station without a ticket in Nottwich, using the silenced pistol he had retained contrary to orders, Raven threatens Anne Crowder, a chorus line singer to provide cover for him. This is where the peculiarities kick in. Crowder is the fiancée of Detective Sergeant Jimmy Mather of the Metropolitan Police who is sent to Nottwich after Raven and co-ordinates the hunt for him in the town. Though she is threatened by Raven, Crowder is soon collaborating with him, leading to grave suspicions of her later, even from Mather. 

They hide out in a show home and then Crowder goes in search of Cholmondeley who, under the name of Davis, rather incredibly, happens to be a backer of the production that she is appearing in, in Nottwich. He also likes to have sex with the performers and takes her to dinner. He however, then tricks her in accompanying him to a bawdy house where rooms are rented by the hour. There he tries to rape her before confining her in the chimney breat. Using intuition Raven tracks her down and releases her. The two hide out in a railway shed with Crowder acting as a decoy so Raven can go after Cholmondeley's employer, a local industrialist who wanted the war minister dead because his policies were reducing armaments spending in Czechoslovakia. Raven is aided by a test-run of a gas attack on Nottwich allowing him to conceal his distinctive hare-lip behind a gas mask. This then leads to a showdown.

While the seediness of all the settings, the sense of not being able to turn anywhere for Raven, is well evoked, too much is rather 'convenient'. Crowder's behaviour in continuing to aid Raven certainly does not come across as realistic. While the gas attack practice reflected the sense of war approaching which is a feature throughout the book - in 1936 Germany remilitarised the Rhineland so breaking one of the precepts of the Treaty of Versailles - it and especially the behaviour of those involved in the test, feels far too much a plot device. Overall the book scores higher for atmosphere than feasibility.

'Castle Skull' by John Dickson Carr

It is clear that someone in my area likes Dickson Carr books as I have found three, including this one, in local charity shops in the past two months. Published in 1931, as can be guessed from the title, it has that 'Gothic' flavour which I noted when reviewing his 'It Walks By Night' (1930) back in January: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2026/01/the-books-i-read-in-january.html though by the end you can see the kind of subtle shift beginning which would get him to his cosy English crime novels of the latter 1930s. Like 'It Walks By Night', this story features the Parisian detective Henri Bencolin and his American friend Jeff Marle who acts as narrator. This one also features a detective from Berlin, Baron von Arnheim. As Martin Edwards notes in the introduction the rivalry between Bencolin and von Arnheim is rather like that between Hercule Poirot and M. Giraud in 'The Murder on the Links' (1923) by Agatha Christie, though von Arnheim is reasonably respectful of Bencolin's skills, perhaps because they are both police detectives rather than one being an amateur. In fact they both bring parts of the solution to the complex case.

Schloss Schädel [Castle Skull] sits on the heights above the River Rhine near to Koblenz. Genuine castles such as Stolzenfels and Ehrenfels are mentioned but this fictional one, built to resemble a skull is particularly Gothic in nature. It has multiple secret passages and someone is chained up in a hidden cell, almost adding in every Gothic trope you might expect, naturally with thunderstorms. The actor Myron Alison lives across the Rhine opposite the castle which he inherited a half share of from his rival stage magician and fan of the occult Maleger who had died many years earlier mysteriously in the Rhine itself. Alison is seen on fire on the castle's battlements. The guests at his house are the suspects and Bencolin and von Arnheim have to disentangle what boats were used when and why there are multiple pairs of muddy boots in the house.

Thus, we do have elements of a standard investigation of the kind Dickson Carr would move on to, but with these Gothic aspects threaded through it constantly especially as more is discovered about the unique castle and then about enduring seeking of revenge. It is worthwhile paying attention to, though the direction Dickson Carr was moving in, does tend to jar with his Gothic emphasis, though he does draw an interesting range of characters and then assembles them for a grand dinner in the castle, including a cake with and icing image of gallows on it.

There is an additional short story ‘The Fourth Suspect’ (1927) for Bencolin and though short, this one is equally complex as the detective is called upon by the French war ministry to resolve a murder in which the wife of one of their spies is implicated, but has an alibi. This one does have the feel of a Sherlock Holmes story.

I currently have two more Dickson Carr novels to read, one from his more Gothic period and one from his later, cosy period. I am looking forward to them.

'Long Story Short' by Jodi Taylor

This is the second (so far) of Taylor's anthologies. Almost all come from the Chronicles of St. Mary's/Time Police 'universe' though there is one from her Frogmorton Farm series too. I have only read 'And the Rest Is History' (2017) which is the eighth book in the St. Mary's series and if only counting the full-length novels there are now six others and one due more due in August 2027. Some of the stories which feature in this collection feature from further on in the sequence than I have read. However, finding out that not only Leon, one of the prime protagonists is still crippled from the stories I have read, his wife the main protagonist throughout is now hospitalised too and their child though ten is still illiterate and socially dysfunctional due to what he was put through as a child put into Victorian times, I am quite pleased to have bailed out before I got any further. Tim Peterson has also had another girlfriend killed. Taylor seems addicted to inflicting the most sadistic approach to characters she creates. That would be acceptable if this was a horror sequence or even thriller novels, but throughout she has this cosy almost jolly tone which clashes terribly with what she portrays.

This collection is not as good as 'The Long and Short of It' (2019) which I read last month: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2026/08/the-books-i-read-in-august.html and some are tiny fragments such as 'Dessicated Water' and 'Markham and the Anal Probing'. However, we do get to see through the eyes of some of the other recurring characters. 'When Did You Last See Your Father' is told from the perspective of Max's husband, Leon Farrell and outlines his sad life in some future period before coming back to 'now', itself in the 2030s and meeting Max who he had encountered briefly in the Cretaceous period. Bolted on the end of this is him sabotaging, with colleagues a visit by Max's abusive father to St. Mary's in an attempt to have Leon and Maxwell's time-anomalous son seized. Leon goes at it with real vindictiveness which I guess we should expect from Taylor, though he does not kill the man though he comes close to it.

'The Steam Pump Jump' was perhaps the story I enjoyed the most. Taylor's writing is always at its best when she is showing historical events and these are why I endured with the books for as long as I did. This one is seen through the eyes of the Head of Security Mr. Markham, primarily because Maxwell is incapacitated. He oversees a visit back to 1641 to see the first demonstration of Thomas Savery's steam-powered water pump. I had never heard of this real incident, though obviously using steam power at this early stage could be a branching point for a lot of alternate history stories, though, naturally, occurring in England it was overshadowed by the English elements of the War of the Three Kingdoms, 1639-53. There is the usual chaos and an attempt to get two of the St. Mary's employees together romantically, but is well handled.

The 'Battersea Barricades' story though seen through Max's eyes focuses on the history of three of the women staff of St. Mary's: Theresa Mack - Head of Catering, Elizabeth Shaw - Personal Assistant to the Director of St. Mary's  and Mavis Enderby - Head of Wardrobe for time-travellers. It outlines the anti-Fascist unrest which occurred in Britain in earlier decades, culminating in the eponymous barricade of Battersea Bridge. All three women were involved in the frontline. It is ironic in the time since Taylor wrote this in 2018, it has possibly become more rather than less likely as is her portrayal of the USA fallen into utter chaos. This is a basic narrative of the trio explaining what they did and how they ended up in central London and does feel like those dystopian dramas which featured often on children's television in the 1970s and indeed a bit like scenes from season 1 of the BBC dramatisation of 'His Dark Materials' (broadcast 2019). Of course, being Taylor, it has tragedy, but is otherwise interesting.

'Christmas Past' fits more neatly with the usual style of the St. Mary's stories. Taylor produces a lot of them around Christmas time. This one sees Max in control and taking her son Matthew back to Victorian London where he was dumped by the prime antagonist Clive Ronan to live as a 'climbing boy', i.e. those children sent up inside chimnies to clean them under a very cruel mistress, Mrs. Scrope, leading him to fear women including his mother. Matthew is keen to take presents to the two other boys he worked with. Max builds a gift package largely of foods and blankets to take to the boys. She also confronts Mrs. Scrope and then at Matthew's pleading goes forward a year to see the outcome of her actions. This naturally has a kind of 'A Christmas Carol' feel, but the historical elements are well done.

The final story is 'Little Donkey' unsurprisingly featuring a rescue donkey from Frogmorton Farm, a contemporary setting though like St. Mary's on the edge of the North Yorkshire Moors. It feels rather like an episode of 'Emmerdale' and is rather overloaded with Christimas tropes, including two births at a nativity play. It is alright if you like this kind of thing. A spectral golden horse that has helped the protagonist Jenny through years of abuse, also turns up briefly. Taylor does seem fixated on largely showing characters who have been through sustained and repeated trauma. I have no idea whether this reflects her own life, but it seems a trait in all her writing that she cannot escape.

Non-Fiction

'The British Party System and Economic Policy, 1945-1983' by A.M. Gamble & S.A. Walkland

This book was published in 1984 and is an interesting look at the shifting, often largely ineffectual, economic policies of the post-war period. They were rather constrained by the fact that the book was in the Studies in Adversary Politics series, because as they show, aside from the rhetoric especially at election time, there has actually been a consistency in economic policies. It becomes apparent that despite all the talk of growth, prosperity and modernisation, in fact the overwhelming driver of British economic policy, no matter who was in power, was defence of the strength of the pound, even though this actually provoked many of the economic problems the UK faced.

Before going on with other decent points in the analysis, I must speak about the tone which Gamble & Walkland adopt. It is highly critical not simply of the governments but of others writing in economics and history. At times it is actually unprofessional. They seem to have no inhibitions in slagging off other writers in this field, feeling they have all proven inadequate, even incompetent. They are riled by the fact that such analysers were typically unwilling to put forward prescriptions for improving the British economy as if that was a compulsory duty for anyone writing on the topic. I understand the early 1980s were an incredibly febrile time but even so this book too often goes beyond the bounds of what is really acceptable in academic writing. 

We could be critical of Gamble & Walkland themselves, especially in their view that there was a possiblity of the Liberal-SDP Alliance as it was in the 1983 election being of any significance in UK political scene, but many commentators of the time, not simply historians, fell for that delusion. They also downplay the divisions which would appear over Europe, though that would have been a challenge given the Conservatives and Labour, for large part, 'swapped sides' on the issue. Of all their proscriptions for the future, the possible path of a Conservative hegemony as enduring as the inter-war one and Labour being obliged to change nature to the new 'consensus' established by Thatcher in order to be permitted to re-enter the political scene was the most accurate.

The strengths of this book are in the detailed analysis of what the nature of the economic policies implemented were. As they show, despite the ever more intense rhetoric between the two main parties, what was done when they came into office often was the opposite of what had been said. Thus, reflation was done most under the Conservatives and deflation under Labour, contrary to what they had said and their rhetoric. They correctly identify that ironically Keynesianism was not needed in 1945-73 when it was the dominant economic theory, because the global boom sustained UK full employment anyway. Then when Keynesianism was needed in the 1970s it had been discredited by its apparent inability to smooth out economic challenges of the preceding two decades, for which it had not designed, notably protecting the strength of the pound.

The authors make a decent case that by 1983, the Conservatives were not actually pursuing a monetarist policy, despite saying they were. I think it is because they still believed that the Thatcher government was aiming to work in the interests of the UK as a whole rather than to the benefit of a slice of the wealthy and not necessarily located in Britain. They found it hard to believe that unemployment could not continue at such heights without civil unrest, though the Miners' Strike and the Poll Tax Riot, appear to be restrained compared to what they imagined would occur.

The book is also good at looking at the various bodies set up to stimulate and/or aid British industry and shows the in/effectiveness of each. They get frustrated when, because of the adversarial rhetoric, relatively success ones like the IRC and NEB were abolished, not due to them failing, but simply to fulfil what the incoming party had said.

While at times pointing to factors outside government which constrained and directed economic policy, the blame tends to fall heavily on the trade unions, then the civil service and least on businesses themselves, except in their obstruction to economic planning, something which has a chapter of its own. Corporatism, collaborating with business and unions is seen as really just a ritual with no genuine impact, though in part it was because no peak organisation really had significant control over their membership. Furthermore as they regularly demonstrate with both parties, plus the Treasury, unable to move from the focus on the pound, UK governments constantly reinforced the strength of those who play the money markets, rather than any large group within the British polity.

Overall, this is an interesting book with useful insights. However, you have to sift carefully as it flip-flops back and forth through the topics and breaks off to be rude to other historians. Added to that, despite showing that the adversarial politics had little impact on the economy, especially beyond the immediate installation of a new government, because of the series it was in, they feel obliged to come back to that topic repeatedly, often muddying the waters in terms of actual political and economic analysis.

'Who Saved Natal?' by Colin Bender

This is a very niche, local history book about the harbour of Durban. As the only feasible port on the south-east coast of Africa, sitting on the western side of Indian Ocean which can be incredibly turbulent, there was a long drive from the 1840s to the 1900s to establish a proper harbour and reduce the numerous shipwrecks along the coast. Unfortunately the nature of the currents meant sand was being constantly being deposited at the mouth of the lagoon on which Durban was built. Ships trying to cross the ever-shifting sand bar often run aground. The issue became greater as the size of shipping increased and Natal became even more important with the gold finds in the interior and the Anglo-Boer Wars.

Through letters, reports and charts from the time, the book shows the constant failure of schemes and the intense hostility between various port engineers and local government about removing the bar. For decads it was believed that by creating longer and longer sea walls the tide as it came out of the lagoon could be strengthened and so scour away the bar. This never worked despite the vast expense and creation of quarries and railways to help with the walls' construction. Eventually dredger technology improved to allow constant dredging even in the rough seas along the coast and this solved the problem finally, allowing Durban to become a major port, though really only effective more than sixty years after it was first needed.

This is a very niche book and is unlikely to be of interest unless you are particularly fascinated by harbour engineering of the past or in the local history of Durban and the rather nasty and foolish, dogmatic men who oversaw the continued failures to successfully provide a safe harbour there. 

The Books I Read In July

 Fiction

'Miraculous Mysteries' ed. by Martin Edwards

While I do not have all the collections that Edwards put together for the British Library Crime Classics, I have been reading those which I do have in the order that they were published and unfortunately feel that, to some degree, it is an issue of diminishing returns. This one is focused on 'impossible' murders, often 'locked room' ones, thus they are more in the line of an episode of 'Jonathan Creek' (broadcast 1997-2016) resolving the trick, as much as they are of, say, a Sherlock Holmes or Poirot short story.

'The Thing Invisible' (1913) by William Hope Hodgson is very much a Creek-style mystery, combining the sense of something supernatural with a practical solution when in an old castle when a servant is struck dead by an apparently flying dagger. The investigator, Mr. Carnacki, a 'ghost finder', puts himself at personal risk to work out what mechanism is behind the killing.

Sapper [Herman McNeile] is better known for his Bulldog Drummond adventure stories, many of which I have read, rather than his crime ones. 'The Music Room' by is one of those technical Creek-akin stories in which someone is killed in a supposedly cursed room by a falling chandelier forty years in the past but looking to be a threat now, i.e. sometime in the 1920s. The amateur detective is Ronald Standish and set in a stately home it has the feel of a classic English crime novel rather than an adventure. It is an effective story and coming in this collection the reader will probably have the sense of the explanation but it is competently done.

'Death at 8.30' is another foretold murder which comes to pass despite all the efforts to prevent it. In this case it is the assassination of the Home Secretary by a professional assassin known as X.K. The author, Christopher St. John Sprigg was unlike the others collected here being a Marxist physicist and poet, as well as author of seven crime novels, killed at the age of 30 fighting in the Spanish Civil War. The fictional Home Secretary is Sir Richard Jauntley a style fitting those of the time. Sir John Samuel  and Sir John Gilmour held the post of Home Secretary, 1930-35, then John Simon but Sprigg was killed in 1937 about the time he was leaving the office. Samuel and Simon were (National) Liberals, Gilmour was a Conservative. X.K. announces his targets and then murders them, this time despite all the precautions, a very technical though about feasible method is used. A trio of police detectives: Hamerton, Higgins and Paule investigate.

E. [Evelyn] Charles Vivian [Charles Cannell] wrote extensively across many genres, including in pulp fiction. in 'Locked In' (1939), Superintendant Wadden and Inspector Head investigate a supposed case of suicide at a stately home where the victim's father had similarly taken his own life twenty years earlier. In this case, questions arise over his handedness, but this one has a technical solution rather than a sleight-of-hand one, which I guess is acceptable and perhaps to be expected quite often in a collection of this kind.

'The Lost Special' (1898) by Arthur Conan Doyle is one I had read before. Ironically the suggestion from the implied Sherlock Holmes intervention is misleading. I think a modern reader might resolve this one quickly given the evidence, though given the familiarity of readers of the time with the railways, maybe they did so too. It is crisply written and nice for being an outside mystery.

Like Sapper, Sax Rohmer [Arthus Sarsfield Ward] is better known for the Dr. Fu Manchu adventure stories of which I read quite a lot around 25 years ago. 'The Case of the Tragedies in the Greek Room' (1920) features a murder at a small London museum, effectively a locked and barred building mystery. The investigator is Moris Klaw one of Rohmer's far less well-known characters. With some of these stories you do feel the ghost of Sherlock Holmes hanging over the protagonists as authors sought to give them quite bizarre, distinctive names. Klaw was the 'dream detective' and to some degree his ability to see situations in his dreams could be interpreted as being clairvoyance or his sleeping mind working through the options. Careful attention to what doors open into where and who might be able to come from the residential part of the museum, enables to reader to have a good shot at what is going on. However, Rohmer proves successful in creating the set-up and the atmosphere, though Klaw as is typical of 'know-it-all' investigators can rile a little.

R. Austin Freeman, a doctor, featured Dr. Thorndyke as his investigator; counterbalancing the exotic name tendency! 'The Aluminium Dagger' (1909) is a locked room mystery in chambers on the second floor (third floor in the USA) where a rather nasty Alfred Hartridge has been stabbed with the epoynmous weapon with apparently no means of access or exit for the killer. Those who have read the Father Brown stories as I have done might have an idea of how it has been achieved especially given the nature of the weapon with aluminium being an unusual material for a dagger. 

G.K. Chesterton, the Father Brown authors, wrote the next story in the collection, 'The Miracle of Moon Crescent' (1924). This features not just a murder but the relocation of the corpse from the top of a block of businesses. Unlike the other stories in the collection, this one is set in the USA where such high buildings were already far more common at the time than they were in Britain. This context allows Chesterton to include commentary on US perspectives on issues like religion. The abduction/murder turns out to be simple if, I imagine physically challenging, but this story very much fits with Chesterton's approach and feels about credible. Perhaps its solution was less the purpose of the story than allowing the author commentary on the contemporary USA.

'The Invisible Weapon' (1928) by Nicholas Olde [Amian Lister Champneys] featured in Olde's only published book featuring cases by his investigator Rowland Hern. It has an interesting setting being in the Lincolnshire Fens in the middle of winter, something which ultimately aids the crime, but also allows it to have that local atmosphere which appears in the best stories set in (fictional) English villages of the kind that feature often in the British Library collection. It has a brutal murder in a locked room, one which a perceptive reader might detect, but works effectively.

Marten Cumberland [Syndey Cumberland] reasonably well-known for his French detective, Saturnin Dax stories. He also created a half-Irish, half-Argentinian investigator, Chico Brett, though these he published under a different pseudonym, Kevin O'Hara. 'The Diary of Death' (1928) features Loreto and Cleta Santos, Spanish-Argentinian siblings drawn as private citizens into investigating an upcoming murder. Loreto is an accomplished pianist and amateur criminologist. 

It is an interesting short story which is effectively a slice of one about a serial killer who is going round murdering in very accomplished ways those that the washed-up comedy singer Lilian Hope condemned in her diary. It brings in the theme of the obsessed fan with which we are much more familiar in our times. While unable to prevent the predicted, 'impossible' murder, Santos is able to resolve it proving how effectively it was achieved simply by sleight of hand in a way we have often come to see quite regularly in stories since.

'The Broadcast Murder' (1929) by Grenville Robbins was the first story ever to establish what has become a common trope in long-running detective series in which one murder is committed while seemingly the target is live on air and so effectively the studio becomes the 'locked room'. A modern reader having seen various manifestations of this will probably come to the conclusion quicker than people of 1929 for whom radio had burst on the scene as a novelty but one with widespread popularity; the BBC having been established in 1922. The story with a limited number of characters is deftly handled and for modern readers effectively conjures up broadcasting of the era.

'Too Clever By Half' (1939) by husband and wife team, G.D.H and Margaret Cole, at a time when married couples writing crime novels together was far less common than it has become from the 1970s onwards. This one features Dr. Benjamin Tancred, an academic recounting a murder at a country inn and taking a patronising though accurate perception of the killer as having tried to hard to shake suspicion off him by his contrived locked-room killing. In theory the Coles were left-wing academics themselves, but in this story which is satisfying in how it plays out, they rather reinforce British hierarchies and attitudes to social 'inferiors'; they were certainly not an early version of Sjöwall and Wahlöö. I suppose if they had been, their books would never have been published in their lifetimes.

'The Haunted Policeman' (1939) by Dorothy L. Sayers is set when Lord Peter Wimsey has married Harriet and indeed starts with the birth of their son. This leads a rather drunken Peter to get involved with a policeman who has been tricked. It features a 'disappearing' house in one of those unique urban streets that only appear in crime novels that enables the getting away of a murdered corpse. It has an interesting way in which this is achieved, I suppose putting it into the sleight of hand, with some technical input. It is rather whimsical, but if you have a taste for Sayers, then this is fine enough.

Michael Innes [John Mackintosh Stewart] wrote 'Death at the President's Lodging' (1936) which I have read but realised I subsequently mixed up with the similarly set 'Disgrace to the College' (1937) by G.D.H and Margaret Cole. Oxford colleges or their simulacra were popular settings for murder mysteries long before Colin Dexter - we might also mention 'Gaudy Night' (1935), of course. Anyway, 'The Sands of Thyme' (1959) is a very short story set near to an English beach in which murder quite simply but cleverly is made to look like suicide but police detective on secondment to a local air base, is drawn into investigate.

Edmund Crispin [Robert Montgomery] wrote 'The Moving Toyshop' (1946) which I have read. It is set in Oxford but not with a college as the scene of the murder, but the eponymous toyshop at the heart of the mystery. In 'Beware of the Trains' his usual detective Professor Gervase Fen investigates. A search for an escaped convict and the disappearance of a railway worker come together at the small station of Clough. The train with carriages that do not connect effectively is a series of locked rooms, but with a police cordon around the station searching for the escapee, that becomes one too. This is certainly not one of the locked room stories requiring a technical explanation and comes down to knowledge of train procedures and working in a closed system.

'The Villa Marie Celeste' (1960) by Margery Allingham, had other titles 'Family Affair' and 'Clue on the Washing Line' which perhaps more accurately reflect the flavour of what is another working class mystery like 'Too Clever By Half' and 'Beware of the Trains' in which an upper (middle) class detective intervenes to pull the scales from the eyes of rather flat-footed others who look to uncover the mystery. In this case it is Albert Campion, her usual detective still active after 31 years and by now a family man himself, indeed perhaps in his 60s, though his manner seems unchanged. In many ways this is a sleight of hand mystery. There are no locked rooms, but well-observed contexts which make it hard for a disappearance to have gone unnoticed. However, in that fact comes the motive. Overall this is a rather twee, 'People's Friend' kind of story, the conclusion of which makes it seem obvious.

'The Thin Place' by C.D. Major

This is a successful Gothic novel set in three time periods at a genuine Scottish manor house, Overtoun House located close to Dumbarton in Scotland. However, Major has entirely fictionalised the history of the place to serve as the context for a horror novel which combines both supernatural and human cruelty elements of the genre. It is a difficult book to write about due to spoilers, so please be cautious if intending to read the novel.

There are three timelines. Ava is a TV news/features reporter living in modern times - the book was published in 2021. Covering a story about dogs throwing themselves from the bridge in the grounds of the house (another genuine element), she visits the place and finds herself enthralled by it. Ava goes back repeatedly even though she has an advancing pregnancy and despite the harm it causes to her relationship with her husband and mother. 

Another timeline is Marion. This runs from the 1920s into the 1940s. Marion from Barnes in south London marries Hamish West the fictional owner of the house at the time and becomes a neglected wife in it. While Hamish is unfaithful he keeps getting Marion pregnant but she has a long string of miscarriages, the results of which she buries beneath the bridge. She is pretty much haunted by the place, though not really conscious of how her actions add to this.

The third timeline is that of Constance born at the house in the 1940s. It transpires she is the daughter of Marion. That is a bit of a spoiler, but I think given the timeframes most readers will work this out quickly. Constance is controlled by her mother who insists that she is ill and takes steps to ensure that she appears and feels this, being incredibly cruel in a way which fits the Gothic tone and comes close to the body horror aspect too.

The novel is very atmospheric and is suitably unsettling. I am not sure about the ethics of setting such a horrible story in a real place that the reader can visit. She could have put it in a fictional house. Anyway, you can see the real story of the place and the people housed there on Wikipedia. While owing a lot to classic Gothic stories, Major successfully brings it into the modern age, though I found it hard to believe that Marion's colleagues did not detect the later stages of her pregnancy without being told directly. I wondered if this was something Major had witnessed in real life.

'The Gleam in the North' by D.K. Broster

Me having brought the whole Jacobite Trilogy in one go, this is the second book in Broster's series. It is set about six to nine years (there are conflicting periods given in the text - it certainly ends in 1753) after the previous one, 'The Flight of the Heron' (1925) which I read last month: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2026/06/the-books-i-read-in-june.html It focuses primarily on Ewen Cameron of Ardoy, the surviving protagonist of the previous book. Though a Jacobite he has been permitted to return home from France and reoccupy his home, far more fortunate than those of his fellow rebels who were executed or have been attainted; many others have faced fines - a little like post-war Denazification in Germany.

It is an interesting reflection of how the English effectively dealt with what to a modern reader looks like a 'late colonial war' in Africa and Asia, lying in the future when Broster published this novel in 1927, though of course there had been vicious colonial wars in her own liftetime. Tartan is forbidden and anyone speaking Gaelic is seen as suspicious. Scots are not allowed to own swords or other weapons and there are harsh fines for associating with attainted people. There is also a substantial military occupation still in place. One thing I had not realised was how the Episcopalian Church was suppressed. This, as one of the characters highlights seemed bizarre given it was set up by James I/VI as the Scottish equivalent of the Church of England. However, the Jacobite cause, especially outside the Highlands attracted Episcopalians. This period gets far less attention than the lead-up to and climax of the 1745 Uprising so it was interesting to read.

The other protagonist initial is Lieutenant Hector Grant, of Le Régiment d'Albanie, which had been raised by Charles Stuart in 1747 in France but in reality had been assimilated into general Franco-Scottish units by 1748. Grant is the brother-in-law of Ewen and is a rather incompetent agent of the renascent Jacobite cause in the region. There is talk of abducting King George II in London with the help of English Jacobites and French agents, though this does not come to much. The bulk of the novel is about Ewen protecting his cousin Dr. Archibald Cameron who was effectively the treasurer for the Jacobite cause in Scotland, despite accusations of him embezzling the funds. Unlike Ewen, Archibald Cameron (1707–1753) was a real man, the last Jacobite to be executed and Broster notes she makes use of some of his actual words especially at his trial which fills the last part of the novel.

Before then, there is a lot of chasing around Scotland as Ewen tries to alert Archibald and then get him to safety. This allows Broster to show more of the landscape which she does very well and in a more positive light than is the case in the preceding book. At one stage he travels to the Western Isles where Episcopalians are trying to worship despite the local military presence. Ewen's path also crosses that with the rather reckless Grant and there are the escapes and close scrapes which characterised the first novel. Ewen also meets Viscount Aveling, the brother of Major Keith Windham, his antagonist/friend from the first novel and faces some of the moral dilemmas that were so common in that novel, though fortunately for a modern reader reduced in number in this one. He goes on to meet Keith's parents and indeed enlists his father, Lord Stowe in the attempt to get clemency for Archibald, though it is soon clear Lady Stowe has ulterior motives for wanting to meet with Ewen.

In some ways there is a flatness about this novel compared to the previous one, I guess because a prime driver is a man who was real and his fate known, so undermining some of the jeopardy. Broster also relies far too much on coincidence, such as the first encounter with Grant - who bumbles painfully throughout the novel - and later with Aveling and then Stowe. However, the attitudes of various people to the cause of Dr. Cameron are well handled. It is a reasonable adventure story though with the gloom of the post-rebellion situation overshadowing throughout which I imagine was the intention to show the English and their Scottish collaborators behaving as a suppressing colonial power in the Highlands.

As an aside there is a chapter called 'Lochaber No More'. I am not sure if that was the first use of the phrase but given it features so much in the song 'Letter From America' (1987) by The Proclaimers I was interested to see it here.

'August Heat' by Andrea Camilleri

This is the kind of Montalbano novel that Camilleri does best. There is a limited cast and it is a question of the detective working out the flaws in the various suspects' alibis to allow him to reach the correct one. The setting is that friend's of Montalbano's long-standing/suffering northern girlfriend Livia, need a place to rent on Sicilly for the summer. He arranges this but when the couple's mischievous 3-year old goes missing, it leads Montalbano to uncover that what appears to be a bungalow is in fact a first floor apartment with a ground floor apartment concealed beneath it. This is apparently quite common in Italy especially at a time when the Berlusconi regime quite regularly dished out amnesties for illegally built properties. The concealed apartment proves to have a chest in it holding the corpse of a local girl who disappeared six years earlier, Caterina Morreale. She had been sexually assaulted and wrapped up. While the man who commissioned the property and his disturbed son appear feasible suspects, it comes down to who was last in the place before it was sealed up.

Montalbano becomes involved with other crimes committed by the construction firm, including the death of an Arab worker on a site with inadequate safety rails, but this shows him that there is little he can do against the company's boss because he was friendly with both the Mafia families and the politicians in the region. The heat is a constant theme in the novel with Montalbano constantly changing his clothes and to some degree making bad decisions, the worst of which is to allow himself to be seduced by Caterina's twin sister, Adriana, who at 22 is 33 years younger than him. However, in addition to providing the climax, this is a further aspect of Montalbano's difficulties with ageing which has become a thread across the novels leading up to this one.

Overal, while readers may predict the ending, Camilleri gets to it quickly and overall this is a straighforward, workerlike story, with all the regional aspects, notably the food, and an effective portrayal of the heat of Sicily, perhaps easier to imagine nowadays, especially if you live in southern England, than it might have been when the novel was first published in 2006.

Non-Fiction

'Inside China's Grand Strategy' by Ye Zicheng; edited and translated by Steven I. Levine and Guoli Liu

When I got this book given to me I was a bit concerned, it having been published in 2011, that it was rather out of date. However, then I realised that it was only the version in English which dated from then and in fact the original book was older still, coming out in Chinese in 2003. Still I thought it might be an interesting read as a kind of history book, showing the perspective of a Chinese academic working in China at the time. However, the book turned out to be very poor. It is incredibly repetitive, making identical points again and again throughout. It reuses a restricted number of examples again and again to somehow 'prove' Ye's points. It flips by providing strings of statistics and then talking in very vague broad terms as one might expect from an ill-informed undergraduate rather than an academic. There is some interesting stuff about China's relations with Russia and with India, but, if the incessant repetition was avoided, there would be enough for a chapter in an edited collection rather than an entire book.

Some of the traits of what it asserts are what you would expect from Chinese output. Despite constantly citing the massive leaps in the Chinese economy from 1978 onwards it keeps on referring to China as a 'developing country'. Now I accept that this may come from subtleties of meaning being lost in translation but to an English-language reader the term means a country that would have been described as 'Third World' which China clearly is not, certainly with all the rankings Ye shows. He does show that China has moved on from when Deng Xiaoping portrayed the country at the end of the 1970s as actually Third World, but still holds to its representation of itself as generally a victim rather than any kind of instigator of hegemonic policies.

The emphasis on per capita income is highly misleading as is being currently shown by the USA because of the 21st Century tendency for an aggregation of greater and greater wealth into the hands of fewer and fewer people (men) without reflecting with any accuracy the strength or weakness of the economy as a whole. Despite its economic strength that he highlights, Ye still portrays China as hard done by and not seeking any form of imperialism or hegemony, skipping over the economic penetration it was engaging in even in 2003 in Africa and Australia; its relations with Central Asian states are portrayed as simply being about anti-terrorism rather than expansion of the soft power that Ye felt China was weak in. Certainly since the era of Xi Jinping, China has been much more open about wanting to take the role as global leader.

As a result, there is all this stuff about China prospering by continuing to follow a path of peaceful co-operation, believing that the September 2001 terrorist attacks provided an important bridge for reducing tension between China and the USA, not seeing how short lived this would be. He is pretty dismissive of concerns of future wars though maybe it was no surprise he did not foresee the Russian occupation of Crimea and invasion of Ukraine. While noting, again in very sweeping broad terms rather than with analysis, why the USA would keep intervening in the Middle East, he somehow did not realise Afghanistan would simply return to what it was before the US intervention ('invasion' in his words) there.

Ye lists innumerable definitions of what makes a world power and insists that China is not one and will not become one until the mid-21st Century. This seems completely contrary to the statistics shown. The strength of the Chinese military and its interests across East/South-East Asia are downplayed, whereas US intentions are portrayed as inherently aggressive. He clings to superficial markers as somehow both essential and all-encompassing. China apparently made huge sacrifices to become a member of WTO and yet that then proves that somehow it is a wonderful international partner in all things and other nations should take it at that. It is galling to read reference to the 'liberation' of Tibet despite all the criticism of US intervention in other countries. The Chinese invasion of Vietnam in 1979 is written off as an appropriate response to US aggression rather than the Chinese aggression it was after the Americans had lfet.

Similarly Ye keeps on perceiving Japan as being incapable of establishing itself on the world stage until it apologises for its historic invasions of East and South-East Asia, even though by 2003, those who were even young adults in that period were now elderly. Ironically the famines and executions that killed millions in China from 1950 onwards are excused as 'leftist errors', nothing more. He feels that Taiwan declaring independence would trigger a war, yet seems to be oblivious that the country has been de facto independent, if not de jure, for decades now. Ironically Ye feels China cannot become genuinely modern until reunification has taken place, but still baulks against outside demands for the independence of Tibet as utterly offensive. 

There is a self-righteousness throughout the book perhaps most when Ye speaks about US society. Though he did correctly foresee tensions over immigrants and the problem of gun violence but then says of the USA 'it is a desert spiritually, filled with violence, pornography and drugs' as if despite his mention of corruption, somehow China, so ancient and sophisticated is spared all of these challenges, even in its big cities. It reminds me of Russia claiming homosexuality was a disease that had come from the West, all false arrogant and not credible to the reader.

Ye does think China will become democratic but sensibly eschews the simplistic US view of the 1990s that China embracing capitalism would inevitably lead to it becoming democratic. Yet, then you realis what he envisages as 'democracy' is not really what the rest of the world would consider it. He begins to distinguish between types of democracy and like a good Communist somehow feels that the one led by the Communist Party with its structures is actually a truer form than that espoused in the name of democracy elsewhere. In addition, he sees human rights as being separate from democracy. He keeps emphasising that China's record is something that should not concern any other country and is simply a way for foreign powers to intervene in its domestic affairs. Thus, while the administration of Xi Jinping has not moved in the direction Ye envisaged, in fact it is not out of step with the views of the Chinese government, let alone in terms of rolling out these perspectives more widely across the world as an alternative to Western perceptions.

Ye envisaged that the greatests obstacles to China's advance would be domestic, though as with the glimmers of movement towards a liberal democracy in the late 1980s, these have been utterly snuffed out by the regime which has become more rather than less authoritarian. In addition for all Ye's vision of a harmonious society for China, racial suppression on the road to a potential genocide has been unleashed on the Uighur population, though like Ye, the current Chinese government feels this is no concern of any other nation or that it is simply another facet of its appropriate anti-terrorism policy.

Naturally Ye is obsessed with Taiwan and makes contradictory statements as he twists and turns to try to make it appear essential that it is taken over by China. Even though he acknowledges that China has advanced even when Taiwan has been occupied by other countries, somehow it plays a magical essential role without which China can never become a true world power. The explanations Ye gives for why China must hold Taiwan are ot different to the explanations for colonialism of the expanionist powers in the 19th and 20th Centuries. Furthermore, Ye completely miscomprehends the perspective of the people of Taiwan. He sees the GMD governments of being pro-unification not understanding that they wanted Taiwan to combine with a reunited China ruled by a conservative, authoritarian GMD government not a Communist one (they continued with GMD representatives representing all the mainland Chinese regions into the 1970s). Missing this he then thinks that pro-independence movements on Taiwan, as it became properly democratic at the start of the 21st Century, as driven by sinister outside forces rather than a realistic re-evaluation of what the government of Taiwan could achieve.

Only once is there a statement showing that the CCP, the rulers of China, might be the actual problem. Nowhere in this book does Ye mention that the People's Republic of China is a repressive, totalitarian state and that is a prime reason why people, notably the Taiwanese (and this now combines the distinct original population of Taiwan with the descendants of the 2 million mainland Chinese who fled there at the end of the Civil War) may have no desire to be under such a regime. In fact, in the years since this book was published, that fear has naturally grown and the reassurances towards the population of Hong Kong - very similar to those Ye makes towards Taiwan - have proven to be illusory and they have suffered immense repression which continues.

Overal, this book is only useful for showing how in the early 2000s the Chinese government wanted itself to be seen by the outside world. It very repetitively indulges in the very twisted logic of the regime to show that somehow it is a victim but has the potential to bring global peace through 'appropriate' forms of co-operation, which despite the extension of its power are somehow not hegemonic. Apparently China, unique among large and wealthy countries has only beneficient intentions for the world, especially its neighbours, despite it being a totalitarian state which suppresses any criticism and now intervenes directly in other countries' internal affairs as seen by the Chinese state police stations set up in Britain to monitor and suppress Chinese dissidents. This book is not an academic text, it is a work of propaganda and the University of Kentucky should be highly embarrassed in having been involved in its publication.

'The Lost Leaders: The Best Prime Ministers We Never Had' by Edward Pearce

As regular readers of this blog will know, I read quite a lot of British political history books. However, last month with 'The Prime Ministers from Robert Walpole to Margaret Thatcher'  (1980) by George Malcolm Thomson which I read last month, https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2026/06/the-books-i-read-in-june.html there is clearly a sub-category of such books which are produced by journalists who write them in a really rambling raconteur style. At the start of this book Pearce said he also want to feature Herbert Morrison in this book too, but the length of the book had already far exceeded his target. It is clear to understand why. Pearce uses 10 words where 1 would suffice. His text is often terribly flowery and sometimes so convoluted as to be incoherent and I am saying this as someone who is experienced with the subject matter, not a general reader. He has untranslated French clauses and terms, and refers to bits of literature, plays and poetry assuming the reader knows them well, as if we were from the turn of the 20th Century rather than the 21st. He also goes off into asides notably connected to the political scene at the time he was writing the book, i.e. 1996/7 but before the Labour election victory in May was known. These are distracting, adding nothing to the book. With some serious editing this could have been a focused, engaging book, rather than one which seems to almost have gone out of its way to rebut many readers.

Pearce focuses on Richard "Rab" Butler, Denis Healey and Iain Macleod, all politicians of the second-third of the 20th Century, who has he shows despite the obfuscation of his writing, could have become British prime ministers. I certainly had not been aware how ardent an appeaser Butler was, even after the war had started. Unlike some other politicians of that ilk, however, he seems to have been largely forgiven. The best parts of the book is when he shows how productive each of the men was when running particularly ministries, something few politicians get credit for, but actually for a scholar of 20th Century British politics provides important breadth by showing aspects, e.g. Healey's reform of defence spending or Macleod handling the break-up of the Central African Federation, which stand in the background, but far from disconnected from the headline news about the economy or global political engagement. There are stretches of the book which cover such topics that are worthwhile reading, but you would have to go through carefully with a highlighter to pick them out.

No historian, no journalist is entirely neutral, but Pearce is almost the complete opposite. He is scathing in his utter contempt especially for Harold Macmillan, but also turns his bile on Winston Churchill, Margaret Thatcher and trade unions in general. Muting these attitudes would have made his analysis, e.g. when he compares Macmillan and Butler or Healey and Jenkins, more effective rather than tainted by what we know are his strong feelings, though saying that, he seems pretty pro-SDP, so though annoyed with Roy Jenkins and very dismissive of David Owen, he cannot condemn them like some of the others.

As I say this book is not useless. There are sections which do provide useful insight taking perspectives uncommon in typical political histories. There are naturally lots of potential seeding for alternate histories. However, for the most part too much of the book is taken up with Pearce doing a performance to show off something that in fact is of little or no interest to the reader.

The Books I Read In June

 Fiction

'The Flight of the Heron' by D.K. [Dorothy Kathleen] Broster

The last few weeks of reading have taught me a couple of things. One is not to buy an entire trilogy until I am really familiar with the nature of the books in it. The other is that it is a mistake to return to stories you liked in your childhood. With this book I made both of these errors. Back in 1976 as a 9-year old, watching the BBC dramatisation of this book, published in 1925, I thoroughly enjoyed the story. I read what I thought was the book back in 1991, but now realise it was the 1963 Puffin version (or a reprint of it) and that version of the story had been bowdlerised for children/young adults. The original version was a great deal nastier.

The story about two men, Captain (later Major) Keith Windham of the His Majesty's Royal Regiment of Foot and Ewen Cameron, laird of the fictional Ardoy, liegeman to Donald Cameron of Lochiel (1695-1748) the genuine head of the Cameron clan. A local seer, foster-father to Ewen, foretells that the men will meet five times, the first and last time by water. The heron acts as an omen and a plot device for the story. 

The background is the Jacobite Rebellion of 1745 when Prince Charles Stuart, son of the Stuart pretender to the thrones of England and Scotland landed in Scotland. Most of his support came from Highland clans. While Catholic, Charles did receive support from some Protestant clans, the Camerons were Episcopalian, a form of Anglicanism introduced to Scotland by Charles's great-great grandfather, James I/VI. Though the Jacobites were able to advance as far as Derby anticipated wider support was not forthcoming and they were driven back into Scotland, defeated and then suffered a ferocious hunt to bring a scorched earth retribution to them and their families.

Broster acknowledged that she was heavily influenced by 'Flemington' (1911) by Violet Jacob which similarly featured two men on the two sides of the conflict. I do not know if that book is as bleak as this one is. Broster's narrative if fixed on the two men and how they fall in turn into each other's control. It skips over the big events such as the battles of Fontenoy and of Culloden, though we do hear of the outcomes. It features primarily skirmishes between the two sides, but also does not baulk from the atrocities committed by the government forces against the Jacobites in the aftermath of Culloden, including torture and summary execution, the seizing of livestock and the burning of farms and houses. Those rebels actually bought to trial faced being partially hanged, drawn and quartered, the punishment for treason.

Being an Englishman who migrated to Scotland, this was the first time I had read of someone suffering from orophobia (fear of mountains) as I did. Broster counters Cameron's love of the lochside where he lives, hemmed in with mountains, well with Windham's unease, perhaps even fear of these sinister mountains and that was an aspect which spoke to me. Broster does an excellent job in portraying the terrain of the different places the two men go to and conjuring up Edinburgh of the time. She is also decent at making distinctions between the different peoples. She does restrict the Gaelic to particular words or phrases so the Lowlanders speaking in full-on Common Scots can be tricky for an English reader to follow.

Aside from the horrors shown, another thing that jars for a modern reader - well, for me - is the obsessive observation by Windham of a sense of chivalry. Despite all the violence and cruelty, he constantly chafes over what he said to whom and of Cameron's perception of him and his actions. This leads him to largely wreck his career and to put himself at risk of imprisonment. Both men save each other's lives at various stages. Cameron spends a lot of the latter part of the book wounded and imprisoned, threatened with execution and torture that Windham is able to ameliorate/prevent even at risk to himself.

There are references to readers perceiving a homosexual connection between the two men. Cameron marries Alison during the novel, but Windham is unmarried. The fact that he is willing to go to physical and reputational danger sometimes simply so that Cameron thinks well of him, suggests an infatuation with the man, if not an obsession. While Cameron at times seems to feel obliged, even obligated, to Windham, there is much less of that passion, indeed he focuses far more on his duties to his clan chief. Of course, when Broster was writing, homosexuality was illegal even in England and it would remain so even longer in Scotland, so she could not really even drop heavy hints in this direction. However, modern readers are likely to perceive the connection as this rather than the stuff around chivalric behaviour which at times seems laboured, perhaps even artificial.

Overall, despite some admirable traits I did not enjoy this book. It has utterly destroyed the pleasure I had watching the TV series. The ending is different to the versions I had seen and read, which simply made it appear that much crueller. Unfortunately I bought the following two books, 'The Gleam in the North' (1927) and 'The Dark Mile' (1929) at the same time. However, I am now minded to send them to a charity shop. As with N.K. Jemisin's The Broken Earth trilogy, I really need to read a wider range of reviews of books before I buy them, especially if I encounter lots of positive views that may/do not mention the really unpleasant aspects of these books, certainly before I indulge in buying a trilogy in one go.

'The Paper Moon' by Andrea Camilleri

This is a straight forward murder mystery, lower key than some of the other Montalbano novels, of which it is the 9th, with a limited cast of characters. Montalbano has to entangle what led to a man, Angelo Pardo, a sales representative for medication companies being shot in the face in a private terrace room at his apartment and left with his penis hanging out. The two who seem most involved are his sister his doting sister Michela Pardo and his latest lover, a married woman, Elena Sclafani, though other lovers turn up as the investigation unfolds. It seems quickly apparent that Angelo was involved in corrupt practices in supplying medications to doctors and pharmacies, that have enabled him to earn a substantial corrupt income to spend on expensive gifts for Elena. As the investigation continues, it seems latterly he was also involved with the supply of cocaine which has led to the death of a number of notable men. The main task in this novel is for Montalbano to disentangle which aspects both at the apartment and missing from it, provide the explanation for the killing. He is enchanted by both of the women even though Michela is dowdy and it seems had incestuous feelings for her brother even if these were not consummated. Elena is in part very open about her lifestyle but also deceptive. Thus, this is quite an intricate plot especially in the different interviews by the inspector of the two women as more information comes to light. Overall quite a simple but satisfying plot.

'The Obelisk Gate' by N.L. Jemisin

After my experiences reading the first book in the trilogy, 'The Fifth Season' (2015) last month: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2026/05/the-books-i-read-in-may.html I was hesitant with continuing. However, I realised that my autistic outlook was not going to let myself pay for a trilogy only to throw two-thirds of it away. This books is a bit better. We are still seeing a post-apocalyptic world with people struggling to survive and facing all kinds of prejudice, but as is often common with a second book in a trilogy you feel that this book is marking time until the climax in the final book. This one jumps around in time but not as much as the previous one. It shows Essun's progress but also that of her daughter Nassun, who she was separated from just before the apocalypse and endowed with the same magic abilities connected to the Earth, faces similar suffering as she and her father who wants her 'cured' head southwards on the single large continent. We get more of a sense that this planet, though not resembling ours in layout is Earth, but a lot of its problems have stemmed from the lost of the Moon though thrown into an elliptical orbit it is scheduled to return to the planet's vicinity.

The prime problem for me is that Jemisin seems addicted to pain and cruelty. I do not know about her own life but she seems incapable of writing more than a few pages before she has to include intense cruelty or someone suffering pain, often children. I understand she probably wanted to baulk against 'cosy' fantasy novels, but she seems unable to move through the story in any other way except by showing another incident. If she cannot engineer it in the current time then a character remembers something horrendous they suffered or inflicted in the past, and then another and another. It is unremitting and after a while it becomes tiresome and blunts the reader. There is a man, Alabaster turning to stone and being eaten alive, more mutilated each time he appears for pages, but apparently this is not enough for Jemisin and we have to see both Nassun and Essun suffering more, Nassun's mentor, Schaffa remembering all the pain and deaths he dealt out as he himself is tortured by what was implanted in him. There is a lot of mutilation in this book especially with hands and arms cut off, though some are able to be reattached.

You also feel as if you have somehow missed a book in the series as if there was a Volume 1.5. There is so much backstory about Essun when she was still Syenite and had a relationship and a child with Alabaster. That child and another of Alabaster's died tragically, but we only get irregular references back to this, triggered occasionally during interactions between Essun and Alabaster as he dies. At the end Jemisin comments on how she battled writing a trilogy and you have a sense that in fact it was a tetralogy and you have gone from Book 1 to Book 3 in a single bound. The climatic battle to save the underground settlement where Essun is living is rushed but tense and rather wakes you up from the jogging along nature of the rest of the book. The book is not terrible, but I certainly cannot understand why it received rave reviews. It has a lot of strong female characters of a variety of races and it has an interesting form of magic connected to rock and tectonics. However, beyond this the writing is not of an outstanding level and as Jemisin seems to acknowledge herself, she is not always in control of the story she has to tell, something which is common in epic fantasy series as Martin has clearly shown.

'England Made Me' by Graham Greene

This book from 1935 is the third I have read by Greene and I am getting a feel for his style. Like 'Stamboul Train' (1932) and 'It's a Battlefield' (1934) it comes across rather like a play. Greene sets up a handful of characters with various quirks and focuses on the interactions between them. Often the setting is seedy and he seems to insist on having young women who want to have lots of sex, perhaps contrary to what we might expect from a 1930s novel, especially as generally while they have troubles they are not punished for their promiscuity, in this case Lucia 'Loo' who Anthony falls for. There are hints that one character, Ferdinand 'Minty' Minty is homosexual but it is not brought out even as clearly as the lesbianism/bisexualism in 'Stamboul Train'. The story also hints at incest, but never goes as far of this, just highlighting the difficulties of relations between twins when they are so much of each other's lives, especially as children, but are now adults. There are also references to Catholic perspectives which became a theme through much of Greene's work but are only touched on lightly in this book. 

Anthony Farrant is a compulsive liar and feckless wastrel who keeps getting sacked from jobs, so ends up drifting from place to place including India, Singapore and Aden. Back in London, his twin sister Kate offers him a position with her lover/employer, the Swedish magnate, Erik Krogh, who having worked up from humble beginnings now runs companies across the world. However, trying to launch an American company, he begins to commit fraud that both Kate and Anthony, employed as a rather negligent bodyguard, become aware of. Minty is a British journalist working in Stockholm, always looking to get information about Krogh, due to how wealthy he is and how many he employs. Anthony has an ambivalent relationship but even when seeking revenge on Krogh does not tell the journalist everything.

Anthony does get Krogh to lighten up and enjoy himself a bit, something the magnate welcomes, even though he remains anxious about how the newspapers will view it. However, the Englishman draws a line when it becomes clear Krogh set up a union leader so he would be sacked and will not even talk to the man's son, also one of this employees. Krogh in fact does not need Anthony because his success has meant there are a ring of sycophants around him, willing to countenance anything to protect Krogh's good name, especially Fred Hall who comes from Amsterdam to Stockholm for the climax.

The novel has strong characters as you would expect, though Greene does seem to fall back on a range of types which is more obvious when reading a number of the novels. It is an interesting analysis of how the very wealthy become detached from reality and judge everything through what benefits them most easily dismissing any concern with the impact on others.

Non-Fiction

'The Prime Ministers from Robert Walpole to Margaret Thatcher' by George Malcolm Thomson

This book was published in 1980 by Scottish journalist George Malcolm Thomson (1899-1996). It is a series of 'pen portraits' of the British prime ministers up to Thatcher. The style is rather peculiar. I guess this comes from Thomson being a journalist rather than a historian or aiming at the popular history market. Certainly, especially as the book moves through the 20th Century, he allows his strong opinions to increasingly distort what he writes. 

I suppose it is no surprise that he was a hardline Conservative but he did have some odd ideas, for example, in terms of the power of trade unions and the anticipated longevity of the French Fifth Republic, though it was already 22 years old at the time he was writing. He has a grave hostility to what he vaguely terms of 'collective security' in international affairs and this feeds him into being scathing of the United Nations. He also perceives anything more liberal than the Conservative Party of the late 1970s as 'Left' or 'Socialist' which means the Liberals of the inter-war period get labelled 'Left' when few would agree with that. He constantly complains about the threats to Britain from 'Marxists' and wrongly portrays the mainstream of the Labour Party in those terms, even when dealing with party leaders like Callaghan who in fact was really a monetarist and supporter of police authority.

Perhaps the most distorted element is when he is covering the prime ministers of the late 1930s. He keeps hammering on about the need for rearmanent and an armed response to the remilitarisation of the Rhineland. He completely overestimates the strength of the German military from 1935 and utterly overlooks how poorly equipped it was, even by 1939-40 when victory came more from how Poland being ill-prepared Poland and how defeatist French commanders were - even though their tanks were far superior to the German ones. Thus, in this phase there is a constant jarring with what the public and politicians wanted and indeed, the actual situation of German strength, even when he was writing at a time when this had become well known. I guess he cannot conceal that as a man in his 30s he was bitter about the policies adopted and even 40+ years later cannot moderate that when writing history.

I certainly do not recommend the sections of the book which cover the period when Thomson was an adult. What was eye-opening to me, having really only studied British politics in detail from the 1860s onward are his portraits of the prime ministers of the 18th Century and early 19th Century. He shows, though often with repetition, how they were often very inter-related noblemen, often in office simply on the whim of the King. Many did not want the job and/or were ineffective in it. It becomes clear why Walpole, Pitts - father and son, Peel and, to some degree, Wellington, are far better known than Shelburne, Portland, Grenville, Addington, Canning or Goderich. Even then too often Thomson's tone is flippant when it could have been far much more analytical. His obsessions with their wives and how many children they had or when they received 'the Garter' are of not much use.

Aside from widening my knowledge on this earlier period, there are some curiosities (though not all unsurprising) that he highlights. Of all the prime ministers he covers 18 attended Eton, 11 not only attended the University of Oxford, but Christ Church college there, 39 prime ministers in total went to either the University of Oxford or the University of Cambridge. Aside from a couple of 19th Century examples, it was only in the 20th Century that a middle class, rather than aristocratic background was the norm. All but 4 were married. Most bizarrely, 16 of them, from the Duke of Grafton (Prime Minister, 1768-70) to Winston Churchill (1940-45; 1951-55), Sir Anthony Eden (1955-57) and Sir Alec Douglas-Home (1963-64) were all related to Sir George Villiers of Brooksby, the Sheriff of Leicester under Queen Elizabeth I and father of George, 1st Duke of Buckingham. While not constantly an oligarchy, it is clear for much of British history prime ministers have come from narrow millieux.

Overall, this is an annoying book that is very much in the latter third overshadowed by the author proving incapable of toning down his strong (and often ill-informed) opinions in order to write a history book. It is of some use if you want a quick summary of more obscure prime ministers of the past, but these days you can probably get better on Wikipedia.

The Books I Read In May

 Fiction

'The Patience of the Spider' by Andrea Camilleri

While having all the usual elements of a Montalbano novel, this one is among the better ones. It is much more taut than some and has none of the James Bond like adventuring that is occasionally seen in the books. Montalbano is just returning prematurely to service after having been shot and is being tended to by his long-suffering girlfriend Livia Burlando. A female student, Susanna Mistretta, from a poor family with a bed-ridden mother is kidnapped. Once it becomes clear that her mother was conned of family wealth by the mother's brother a motive becomes clearer. The various clues such as finding Susanna's scooter, motorcycle helmet, in various locations; the evidence of a blighted egg seller-cum-prostitute; the various calls to news media all confuse matters. The characters of the victim's boyfriend and a doctor who is a family friend are well drawn. Perhaps the reader can work out what is going on and at time Montalbano seems rather blessed with looking in the right place at the right time. However, it is effectively told and alongside the usual cast, the other characters are portrayed convincingly with all their different drives. This is the eighth book in the series and I have a number more to go through, though it is difficult to know what is going to be a stronger or a weaker story in the sequence. This is certainly one of the better ones.

'The Fifth Season' by N.K. Jemisin

I had read very good reviews of Jemisin's writing so when I saw this Broken Earth trilogy - 'The Obelisk Gate' (2016) and 'The Stone Sky' (2017), I snapped up all three books. Foolishly I had not read detailed reviews of each of the books. As the book reviewer active on BlueSky (@runalongwomble.bsky.social) pointed out, if I had done then I would not have had such an unpleasant experience reading this first book. The book opens with the discovery by a middle-aged mother that her 3-year old son has been murdered by his father who has run off with the boy's sister. A young girl, Damyana, with forbidden powers is handed over to authorities to be taken from her family for life and soon has her hand intentionally broken when studying how to master magic is bullied and has to become devious leading to the punishment of other students which we later discover can involve being intentionally paralysed and wired into a machine for life in order to counteract earth tremors. A young woman, Syenite, despite being trained in the magic is simply used to breed with an older, more powerful male magic-user.

So you can see this is a real grimdark book. The concepts behind it are fascinating. It is set on a world with largely one huge continent stretching between the poles which is troubled periodically down the centuries by environmental catastrophes. Certain people are born with the ability to work magic and as in 'The Ninth Rain' (2017) which I read last month: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2026/04/the-books-i-read-in-april.html They are carted off to confinement and training in how to control their powers to benefit those who control them. Jemisin's Damaya does get treated a little better than Williams's Noon. The magic powers come from the very turbulent movements of the planet's surface and can be a source of devastating power or can be ameliorated by the magic users. There are also levitating obelisks which can similarly provide power or be destructive. This approach to magic was a refreshing one even though it also allows the perpetuation of horrors.

We see the story through what quickly becomes apparent are three timelines before and after the latest environmental catastrophe which is smashing up the societies of the continent despite all the laws to make people prepare adequately. It is not long before you realise that the women in the three timelines are actually a single individual at different ages of her life. To some degree that reduces some of the jeopardy of the earlier two as we know she lives to be the middle-aged Essun. However, it is clear Jemisin revels in suffering and though there are brief triumphs, pain and simply prejudiced violence run right through this novel. Given such pervasive nastiness, I am ambivalent about continuing with the trilogy despite having bought the other two books. As I have now been chided, it is advisable to check out a book thoroughly before buying it, let alone splashing out on an entire trilogy!

'It's a Battlefield' by Graham Greene

This novel from 1934 is one of Greene's lesser known ones. It follows a very similar pattern to 'Stamboul Train' (1932) which I read last month. There is a small set of characters who somehow are all interlinked and they interact through the novel in a way, which for all its seriousness, to the modern reader seems rather whimsical. I put this down to some extent to the style of language used 90+ years ago and perhaps Greene wanting the novel not to be too heavy. I am also learning that it was apparently acceptable in the 1930s to show characters with sexual orientations that we more usually associate with the later 20th Century and contemporary times. In this case there is Kay Rimmer who is unapologetically promiscuous seeking single night partners even though she seems to be ambivalently in love with one man, Jules who comes into money and goes off on a bizarre reckless car journey around the countryside outside London in the closing section of the novel.

The connecting issue is the imminent execution of Jim Drover, a bus driver and member of the Communist Party who killed a policeman threatening to beat-up his wife, Milly Drover (née Rimmer), Kay's sister, at a protest/riot in Hyde Park. Milly later goes to see the policeman's widow. Many of the characters are members of the Communist Party, though in Kay's case, more to pick up men rather than through any political convictions. Other characters are a wealthy Communist Mr. Surrogate (a very unconvincing name for a character!) who Kay sleeps with and attempts to work through an influential Communist fellow traveller Caroline Bury to get a commutation Jim's sentence from the police, largely in the form of the unnamed Assistant Commissioner. There is also Jim's brother, Conrad, who is a chief clerk and chafes over what he can do for his brother, becoming increasingly reckless too. There is Conder, a scuzzy journalist who monitors the local Communists and is seeking a human interest story. All these characters dance around each in seedy locations of London.

While it does lay out the various mental turmoils of the different characters you somehow feel there is no real depth. The book does come over, rather like 'Stamboul Train' like a script for a play rather than a novel. It does provide an interesting view into London of the time and actually how 'normal' if unpopular with slice of society, the Communist Party was at that time. Still, Greene does also show how ineffectual, how bound up in procedure it was, so unable to make any impact, let alone represent anything like the kind of threat that was attached to it through much of the 20th Century. The twist is reasonable, but by then despite it being short (202 pages in my edition), you are tired of the characters and are glad that it is all over. I do have many more Greene novels to read and I hope that the writing improved as his career progressed, or at least came closer to what I now realise are the expectations of readers of the late 20th/early 21st centuries.

'Continental Crimes' ed. by Martin Edwards

This is another of the British Library Classic Crime collections edited by Martin Edwards. As the title suggests (at least to British readers) this one features crime stories (not always detective stories) set in (western) continental Europe. The collection is not as good as 'Serpents in Eden' (2016) which I read last month: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2026/04/the-books-i-read-in-april.html but it does have some decent stories.

As is usual the one by Arthur Conan Doyle, 'The New Catacomb' from 1898 again shows the quality of his writing. It is set in Italy and shows the rivalry of two archeaologists. While modern readers are liable to work out what is going to happen it is well written and paced. This is one of the stories in which rather than the detection of the crime, we see its execution. Arnold Bennett is known for his stories of Victorian society. 'A Bracelet in Bruges' is about the loss/robbery of said bracelet. It has a small set of characters, but is well worked through, with sufficient clues for the reader. It also describes Bruges very well and even visitors of today can match up its medieval features with those described by Bennett in 1905.

G.K. Chesterton is better known for writing crime novels, especially the Father Brown stories which have long been popular but have received a new burst of interest with the 13 seasons of the BBC TV series which has been running since 2013. 'The Secret Garden' from 1910, however, is set in France and features the head of the Paris police. I am not sure why all these stories always feature the head rather than an ordinary inspector. Anyway, at the head's house there is an impenetrable garden in which a corpse is found which has been beheaded. This is a locked garden mystery a littl of the style of 'Jonathan Creek' (1997-2016) stories and is satisfying for that, but also shows up how strong anti-clerical sentiments were in France of the time.

'The Secret of the Magnifique' published Edward Phillips Oppenheim in 1912, is one of the stories where we see the crime but no-one is brought to account for it. It follows John T. Laxworthy who with two friends sets out to involve himself in any dubious activity especially if it enriches him. He becomes mixed up in attempts to steal naval plans on the Côte d'Azur. His method for dealing with the spies seeking them is an uncommon, refreshing, ending. 'The Ten Franc Counter' (1912) by Henry de Vere Stacpoole is set in Monte Carlo, and while there is naturally reference to the casino - which apparently local residents were barred from - the story involves theft in an apartment block and, it turns out an imposter. It is deftly investigated by visiting police detective M. Henri, whose route to the solution comes from the eponymous clue. Not bad.

'Petit Jean' (1931) by Ian Hay is unusual in being set behind the frontlines of the Western Front in Belgium during the First World War. It manages to combine both investigation of a theft with a case of spying too. Hay who had fought on the Western Front, successfully conjures up the feel of the context back form the frontline, relations within the company, interacting with the local people and with the the genuine threat of death so close by. In this short story, Captain Crombie solves both situations. I suppose it seems rather facile to have murder mysteries when there was so much carnage, but this is an interesting contribution all the same.

 'The Lover of St. Lys' (1919) by F. [Fryniwid] Tennyson Jesse features a female private detective, Solange Fontaine, with a French father she travels with and a British mother. Solange's skill is being able to detect evil and this story is more like a Gothic drama about pressure being put on a young woman at a nearby large house in order to get control of her money though intervention by the antagonist's wife muddies the water. Solange and her friend Raymond intervene to help Monique escape from the bigamous marriage let alone being murdered, though as Solange points out philosophically if she had continued in it and yet escaped to South America as planned, she may have lived happily. Joseph Jefferson Farjeon was a playwright and crime novelist. I have a number of his crime novels in the British Library series to read next year. 'The Room in the Tower' set in a German castle on the Rhine is not even really a crime story, but even more a Gothic tale, perhaps unsurprising given the setting, but it features a spectral being who provides clues back to a crime.

'Popeau Intervenes' written by Marie Belloc Lowndes, who, like the fictional Solange, had a French father and British mother. Writing in the 1910s she created the French detective Hercules Popeau who features in this story. Not surprisingly Lowndes was not impressed by Agatha Christie's use of Belgian detective Hercule Poirot who first appeared in 1920 in 'The Mysterious Affair at Styles'. Knowing Poirot stories well, it is clear that he was nothing less than a rip-off of Popeau not simply in name but also in terms of mannerisms and approach, even down to not always having an arrest as a solution, but some other outcome. This story moves from Paris to a southern French hotel where Popeau's suspicions are aroused around the health of a guest especially when he encounters a dubious doctor he has met before when a police detective. Ironically this is a good non-Poirot, Poirot story and could certainly rank alongside any Christie short story.

There is an Agatha Christie short story but one featuring Parker Pyne rather than Poirot. 'Have You Got Everything You Want?' was published in 1933. Pyne is drawn into a jewellery robbery while on the Orient Express. The victim has had prior warning that something is going to befall her but believes it is more likely to be a personal attack. This combined with the layering of the story - blackmail lies behind the theft - means it works effectively. It also incorporates elements that Christie would use again, such as forewarning of a crime and of course featuring the Orient Express, 'Murder on the Orient Express' was published the following year.

Reggie Fortune, Henry Christopher Bailey's doctor who aids the police turned up in 'The Long Barrow' short story in 'Serpents in Eden'. In this story, 'The Long Dinner' from 1935 he goes between southern England and Brittany disentangling not just the disappearance of a man but also the murder of various children over the years. Though Bailey was criticised for dated language - exclamations by various characters seem very peculiar - and a prime clue is identifying what part of France would have dishes like those seen on a particular menu, it has layering and concerns which feel pretty modern. This layering means there is more than one crime to solve. Saying that often Fortune seems more a distraction, despite important connections he can make at times between pieces of information.

The impetuous for 'The Packet Boat Murder' (1951) by Josephine Bell is a young Frenchwoman seeking to elope with a British tourist who who is then murdered on or around a ship to England before it sets sail. Compared to some of the other stories it is a gritty case which might reflect when it was written and the impact of what was done during the war does play a part.

'The Perfect Murder' from 1926 by Stacy Aumonier, better known for contemporary fiction, is set in France and features two brothers seeking to ensure they inherit from a wealthy aunt. There is no detection, just the unfolding of the two brothers' plans and overall it feels like a Chauceresque morality tale. 

'Villa Almirante' was published in 1959 by Michael Gilbert. It is set in Italy and is told from the perspective of a carabineri lieutenant, Lucifero investigating a murder at a villa rented by a British lord and his various friends plus the servants. Maybe it is the age of this one, maybe the angle (maybe I have read too many Montalbano books) but I liked this approach to the typical English manor house set up by an outsider, who is perceptive but calm and unafraid to not only deduct but at times, simply to observe.

'And the Rest is History' by Jodi Taylor

I was rather foolish to read this book. I do not like giving away books that I have not read, but really after the previous, seventh, book in the Chronicles of St. Mary's 'Lies, Damned Lies and History' (2016) which I read in January: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2026/01/the-books-i-read-in-january.html and finding it so nasty, I should have stayed away from this one. Despite Taylor's 'jolly hockeysticks' tone which makes a university institute for time travel have the characteristics of a private school in the 1950s (no-one in a university calls anyone 'Miss. Grey' or 'Mr. Dieter' and Taylor seems to have no idea what a University Chancellor actually does) they are actually stories of bitterness, loss and sorrow. I do not care about giving 'spoilers' here, because I do think these books should come with trigger warnings, something much more than a comment on the back saying simply '... Max and St Mary's find themselves engulfed in tragedies worse than they could ever imagine' though clearly Taylor can imagine them. 

The death rate exceeds that of the average thriller and going beyond this, Taylor uses time travel to inflict particular nastiness on her characters. In this one the protagonist Dr. Madeline Maxwell 'Max' is widowed for the second time in the series from her husband Chief Leon Farrell though he turns up 'after' his death from a previous time travel journey and Max can say nothing to him about his fate due to the ructions in time it would cause.. She has her recently born baby, Matthew Farrell abducted and only returned to her days later, but eight years older malnourished and illiterate, having been abused throughout that time as a chimney sweep in 19th Century. I know authors feel they should put in jeopardy for the main characters, but in these books which often have a comic turn, it really jars as the reader has to keep shifting gear from mildly amusing scenes (such as two amateur time travellers from the future arriving in a giant teapot and mistaking a period tea for arriving in the wrong time) to tragedy that would be horrendous but often impossible without the set-up. There is some protracted, uncertain redemption towards the end of the novel, but it does feel tacked on, perhaps the result of pressure from an editor or a publisher, rather than the ending that Taylor would have wanted to inflict on her characters.

The only really redeeming features of the books, especially as the series continues and the body/abuse count stacks up even faster than before is their descriptions of missions to the past. In this novel, teams follow the stages of Harold Godwinson through being shipwrecked in France and handed over to Duke William, having to swear the oath and then fighting the Battle of Hastings. There is also a good scene towards the end when Max accompanies a Time Police team to Constantinople in 1204 during the rapacious 4th 'Crusade'. I have often commented how Taylor always seems to have battled with getting the right approach to these books. Early in the series Max feels like a 15-year old with a PhD but this settles down as the novels continue. However, Taylor still seems obliged to keep going back to a light, supposedly humorous tone, despite writing horror after horror that really puts these novels into the grimdark category. Be warned.

Non-Fiction

I have been very fortunate this month to have picked two very good history books to read.

'Democratic Socialism and Economic Policy: The Attlee Years 1945–1951' by Jim Tomlinson

It is now 31 years since I met Tomlinson. Back then he impressed me with both his energy and his insight. He was (I imagine he still is as he has not died) a polite man but an incisive one, making effective use of the historical record to challenge lazy or politically-motivated interpretations that seek to twist the history to a particular purpose. In this book, he occasionally sets himself up against his bête noire, Corelli Barnett, but does not allow that disagreement to distort the clear cases he is making.

This was a sensible book to read after 'New Jerusalems' (1985) by Elizabeth Durbin which I read in March: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2026/03/the-books-i-read-in-march.html  Durbin looked at all the intellectual and policy debates which went on among liberal and Labour circles in the 1920s and 1930s on handling the economy. Tomlinson then explores how these were put into action when people like Dalton and Cripps that Durbin discussed, became policy shapers/makers in the post-war Labour governments.

Economic history is a complex field, but what makes this book particularly accessible to the general reader is how Tomlinson has broken it into thematic sections and then sub-divided these into particular issues to explore. Thus, there is a sub-section on the challenges of 1947 and one exploring whether the Welfare State was unaffordable. Thus, while Tomlinson tells a familiar story of great ambitions being hampered by the disrupted post-war global economy, forceful resistance from bigwigs in industry, banking and finance, demands for a world role and to rearm, he brings a great deal of insight. He also shows how too often those who sought to baulk against trends such as maintaining the empire or developing the industrial economy, get overlooked. As they did not succeed this does not mean that the governments should not be dismissed as not engaging at all with these topics as so often appears to be the case in general histories of the period. Topics such as the nature of the working class, the attitude to women especially in the workforce, technical education and the balances in use of steel and concrete are well told and good reminders to the reader.

While the sub-section approach could appear to lead to repetition, for the large part Tomlinson avoids that signposting backwards and forwards through the book. This means it is very usable by scholars or students who wish to engage with a particular aspect rather than wading through lots of text to find it as can be the case with the more narrative, less analytical approach used in many books embracing these topics in that period. Thus, overall, I do recommend this book even 31 years on, for anyone interested in looking at the critical period of British socio-economic history that established so much of what has persisted and what has proven unattainable in the decades since. The debates of 1945-51 remain very much alive in the current political scene. Hopefully, with the Thatcherite spin which was forced on too much commentary on this period at least a little faded, a more acute perspective can be taken on the roots of so much in contemporary UK.

'Inside Nazi Germany: Conformity, Opposition and Racism in Everyday Life' by Detlev J.K. Peukert; translated by Richard Deveson

While regular readers of this blog will know that due to my degree studies I have read quite a lot on Nazi Germany, this book that I have had for many years does stand out. It provided insights into German society during the regime that I have never seen mentioned before, for example, the combing out of working class districts by the authorities in the early months of 1933. Its analysis is very crisp and asks sensible questions throughout showing how complicated the compliance and resistance to Nazism was within individuals, rather than most people simply being 'for' or 'against', and how public compliance might conceal private opposition. 

Another interesting aspect is how, while pushing against the concept of a German Sonderweg ['special way'] he does highlight how the Nazis were able to build on attitudes which had been commonplace in the 19th and earlier 20th centuries and in addition, how these then fed into so much that happened in the German societies after 1945. Peukert died aged only 39 and I have a sense if he had lived he would have produced an excellent book on those continuities which would have put Dahrendorf with his contorted, directive opinions back in his place.

Peukert was a particular specialist on the Nazi impact on youth and this is naturally a strong element of the book. However, he also does very well when looking at other sub-groups within German society, e.g. women, the working classes, gypsies/Roma and indeed the different tiers of the middle classes who provided so much 'fuel' not simply in terms of votes, but also assumptions, that went into the Nazi outlook and behaviour.

Overall, even if you have read lots of books on Nazi Germany, I heartily recommend this one. I feel few will not find something new in terms of its perspectives and even if you do not, the well-focused, brisk writing, backed up by effective use of personal accounts and official reports both from the regime and its opponents, make this a very engaging, fascinating book.