The Books I Read In March

 Fiction

'Judgment [sic] on Deltchev' by Eric Ambler

Ambler is suitably admired for his ability to produce thrillers that while fictional almost sound if they are true. He brings in current affairs and provides both engaging and exciting novels. This one, published in 1951 is set in a fictional country in the Balkans. It has a feel of Yugoslavia of the time, but with elements of Romania and Bulgaria too. There is no mention of a Communist Party, instead the People's Party of the novel clearly is a Stalinesque party. As in many Eastern Bloc countries there are vestigial other parties, in this case the Agrarian Socialists, of which the eponymous Yordan Deltchev, is a leading member and has been part of the coalition government before the recent coup by the People's Party. He is a diabetic and as one myself, the withholding of his medication was especially chilling, one I could almost feel the effects of as I read.

Apparently this was based on the 1947 show trial in Bulgaria of Nikola Petkov (1893-1947 executed) a leader of the  Bulgarian Agrarian National Union and former Communist. However, it also reminded me of the 1952 trial of Otto Katz, that I read about last month:  https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2026/02/the-books-i-read-in-february.html Though Katz was a spy rather than a politician it brings home how current such trials were when Ambler was writing. Deltchev is being tried for apparently taking part in a plot to assassinate the People's Party leader and stage a counter-coup. He is seen as suspicious because at the end of the Second World War he favoured negotiating with the Americans rather than the Soviets, to invade the country to expel the Germans. As the novel proceeds it is revealed that the plot was not as imaginary as is first assumed.

As is typical in Ambler's novels there is a protagonist from outside. In this case it is an American playwright, Foster (we never know his first name) who is sent to cover the trial for US and perhaps British newspapers. His interactions with the authorities, how tight parameters are set on his actions, the smarmy 'helper' he assigned, the compromised foreigners working for the regime, are all conjured up well and must have seemed very chilling at the time though now from spy novels of the 20th Century and even now, are familiar to readers.

As Foster comes in contact with members of Deltchev's family and various members of the secret police, it is clear that behind the trial there are internecine battles between various elements of the regime, one set of which try to kill Foster. His escape from two armed men closing in on him in the nighttime streets is well handled. Ambler's protagonists tend not to be men of violence themselves, but them getting out of jeopardy is portrayed realistically and naturally has an appeal to the reader who is liable to be similarly ill-equipped for such situations despite all the modern-day social media claims about being able to wrestle a bear.

The ending does go in a direction which is unexpected, but make sense in the context of the regime featured. It is not a spoiler to say that like Petkov and Katz, Deltchev is sentenced and executed. Ambler packs a lot into what these days is a short book (192 pages in my edition) so there is a good pace, but not rushed. His descriptions of not just people but also the places are well handled and engaging. While at times quite a bleak read, I will certainly pick up any more Ambler books which cross my path.

'The Santa Klaus [sic] Murder' by Mavis Doriel Hay

This was the third and final crime novel written by Doriel Hay and published in 1936. It is set in the country house of Sir Osmond Melbury, where his family assemble each Christmas. This year he has decided for assorted children that there will be a Santa Klaus (he insists very much on this name) to distribute presents to the assorted children. However, once this is over, he retires to his study, perhaps to receive a telephone call and then is found shot through the head by a single bullet and a window open. In some ways the novel reminded me of 'Hercule Poirot's Christmas' (1938) by Agatha Christie. However, while Melbury interferes in his children's lives, in particular over who they can marry, he is curmudgeonly rather than outright cruel as Simeon Lee is in Christie's book.

You might wonder why we do not see Doriel Hay's books dramatised with the frequency that Christie's are. Perhaps the stakes are not as high as in the Christie equivalent. In addition, Doriel Hay does not have a strong central detective. Much of the story is told by Colonel Halstock, the Chief Constable of Haulmshire (a fictional county), a friend of the family, though the typical detection work is done by Inspector Rousdon, who is not overly competent. The actor Kenneth Stour, another friend of the family, is involved as the amateur detective allowing a point of view which would otherwise be missed. Christie naturally has Hercule Poirot doing the main activities, but in the conclusion to the story he discusses the case with Colonel Johnson, the local Chief Constable. It was typical in the early 20th Century to appoint former army officers to these roles heading county or city police forces. Before the Second World War, along historic lines, a county might have a number of different police forces, sometimes associated with a single town or part of a county.

As mentioned with the character of Stour, perhaps a reason why playwrights and screenwriters have not adapted Doriel Hay's books is because of the question of points of view. As I noted with 'Murder Underground' (1935) https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2026/02/the-books-i-read-in-february.html Doriel Hay worked hard to provide a different perspective to the 'standard' approach of crime novels of the time. In that one the detective did not turn up until late in the book and Doriel Hay was more interest in the theories, the obfuscations and the amateur efforts of the murdered woman's fellow residents, than she was working through a clue-based or police procedural approach. 

The first five chapters of the book are written from the perspective of a different family member or guest. We learn later that this is the 'homework' assigned by Stour to get a feel for what was happening in the days before the murder, before Halstock takes over the narrative. Stour does get to contribute later, but only covering a brief period. These accounts reminded me of Alan Bennett's 'Talking Heads' (1982/88-2020) soliloquies and they show Doriel Hay's skill in characterisation. She does let rip in showing all the attitudes of the British Lower Upper Class and their associates. Unfortunately, ultimately, the novel rather vindicates such attitudes, but I guess we see that too in Christie, Dorothy L. Sayers, Ngaio Marsh, etc. and it is perhaps too much to expect Doriel Hay to diverge from this despite it undermining the mystery.

To a greater degree than we see in Christie's books, Doriel Hay shows how not big lies, but various misportrayals and suppression of certain facts, really hamper the investigation. There is a bit too much 'coming and going' around the Santa Klaus performance, subsequent pulling of crackers and a locked 'hidden' door which is just fed into by the various characters, not out of real malice, but due to discomfort or embarrassment, seed small lies through what they say. In part while it is no critique of this social class and the Upper Middle Class in which some of the characters are from, it does show the sense of entitlement of these people and how their small embarrassments are felt to trump even a murder case. Overall, I found this an engaging book and especially the 'talking heads' section and the persistent 'white lies' of many characters were refreshing. Yet, you can see why, especially the first section would make dramatisation a challenge especially give the established format we tend to have these days with 'country house' murders on television.

'Clockwork Prince' by Cassandra Clare

This is the second in the Infernal Devices series. I read the first one, 'Clockwork Angel' (2010) back in 2019: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2019/11/the-books-i-read-in-november.html?m=0  This continues the adventures of Tessa Gray, the young American woman with the ability to shapeshift to look like other people who has come to London in 1878 and is drawn into the world of the Shadowhunters, the half-angel people fighting against dark forces housed in the London (and York) Institute, Clare features them in this trilogy and her Mortal Instruments series (2007-14). 

The book has the same basic set up, with a young woman from outside the context, unfamiliar with her special abilities coming into the Shadowhunter community and dealing with werewolves, vampires, warlocks, etc. The warlock Magnus Bane, who is probably immortal, turns up in this book as he does in the Mortal Instruments even though they are set over 130 years later. Following the standard Clare formula there are a pair of Byronic young heroes, Will and Jem, for Tessa to fall in love with and be torn between. There is also family complications both for Tessa who confronts her evil brother working with Mortmain, the one building the clockwork robots and seeking to destroy all Shadowhunters. Meanwhile his partisans are seeking to take control of the London Institute from within and Tessa is involved in the effort to keep the friendly Charlotte in charge.

Early in the book I worried it would be a tedious rehash of the Mortal Instruments story, but in fact it steps up a gear and becomes more engaging as the young people to chase after the antagonists across London, using their various abilities. The scene where Tessa disguised as an Institute member who has betrayed the Shadowhunters and encounters her own brother is well handled. The battle against the giant robot in the East End warehouse is also well done.

At times the novel is rather trope-heavy and occasionally dips into a Hollywood perception of Victorian London, e.g. the "opium" den. Some Americanisms slip in inappropriately such as the numbering of floors which is done differently in the UK to the USA. However, generally these flaws are avoided. It is also good to see an appreciation of the class system rather than all the servants being characterless machines themselves, especially Sophie the Institute maid, who despite her lowly status falls for a couple of the Shadowhunters despite such relationships being forbidden. There is also an oblique reference to syphilis which haunts so much Gothic literature of the era through "demon pox" being an important element in the story. I recognise this book is not aimed at readers like me, but once it gets going it was a pretty enjoyable romp.

'Flashman and the Tiger' by George MacDonald Fraser

As with the Sharpe books of Bernard Cornwell, I religiously read through all the Flashman books which were available in the mid-1990s only for MacDonald Fraser to have what he perhaps might have termed an "Indian Summer" when he wrote a few more that I am only now coming to. This one published in 1999 is actually a collection of three short(ish) stories set at different times though largely when the protagonist, Harry Flashman is in his sixties or older.

The first is 'The Road to Charing Cross'. It has a rather convoluted lead in across a number of decades, with Otto von Bismarck who in the 1860s set Flashman up in a kind of Prisoner of Zenda role and who seeks revenge. Flashman ends up in Vienna, having been on the inaugural journey of the Orient Express, trying to prevent the assassination of Emperor Franz Joseph by Hungarian nationalists. It is quite clever how it is not clear who are the people he can rely on and also the limits of his physical abilities at his age. There is a scene where he is beaten around an abandoned Austrian salt mine but the usual torture scene in Flashman novels is absent. There are longueurs especially around his interactions with two women who might be German or Hungarian agents and how one of them toys with him at the end. It added little to the story. The bit at the end of Flashman being at Charing Cross Station and dragooned into accompanying General Gordon (who he knew from China) to fight the Mahdi in Sudan seems like a set-up for another novel. Thus, overall, though the middle part is adventurous, the story is rather made up of parts not perfectly fitted together and at times, overly long.

The second is 'The Subtleties of Baccarat' which involves Flashman and his wife, Elspeth, who shows a vicious streak beneath her rather simple pretty exterior in a genuine court case around cheating at baccarat. It became renowned as it involved the Prince of Wales, later King Edward VII. Flashman is staying at the house, Tranby Croft, where, in 1890, the games took place and Elspeth is at the table on the second night. Flashman is eager for a scandal to develop and Elspeth has her own motives which only are revealed at the end.  By a number of witnesses, Lieutenant Colonel Sir William Gordon-Cumming of the Scots Guards was accused of adding to his bets after the winners had been announced. The case actually came to court and Godron-Cumming lost. He was expelled from the Army and retired from public life, fortunately having a rich wife and an estate in Scotland where he could hide. To present day readers the whole case seems rather ridiculous, but Wikipedia has really extensive coverage of it: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_baccarat_scandal The story is crisp and succeeds both in bringing out a larger role for Elspeth, who rather often is a 'her indoors' character in the novels as well as bisecting fictional Flashman with historical events of the time.

'Flashman and the Tiger' is probably the best story of the three. Not only does it feature Flashman escaping the Isandlwana massacre of 1879 in a thrilling well written section but has him meeting the fictional Colonel Sebastian "Tiger" Moran better known as the antagonist of the Sherlock Holmes story 'The Adventure of the Empty House' (1903). Flashman subsequently actually gets involved of the climactic scene of that story, hiding close to where Holmes and Watson apprehend Moran. Moran is threatening both Flashman's granddaughter Selina and her fiancé. However, as with the previous story with Elspeth, Selina is revealed to be less of the 'model Victorian lady' than might be expected. Fortunately Holmes's arrest of Moran solves Flashman's immediate problem.

Overall, while with some highlights and all the standard sexual references and Victorian lingo that you would seek from a Flashman novel, this collection is good in parts but at times rather weaker.

Non-Fiction

'The Peloponnesian War' by Donald Kagan

I came to this book having played the computer game, 'Assassin's Creed: Odyssey' (2018) which is set in Greece in the 420s and features many actual people active there at the time. Saying that while I think people would be happy with the portrayal of Socrates, lawyers for Alcibiades, politician, general and turncoat, might have had something to say about how effete he is shown. While the game proved very useful in familiarising me with the geography of Greece in this era, especially as the war raged through so many regions and seas, it only featured a slice of the 27-year (Second) Peloponnesian War. Kagan wrote a 4-volume history of the war, published 1969-87. This book published in 2003 is a 511-page concise history of the conflict.

As reviewers noted Kagan had that skill that makes popular histories like this work. This conflict was immensely complicated. The basis is the repeated battles between Sparta, a monarchical militaristic state with a regional dominance and Athens, a restricted democracy, with a strong navy and a growing empire across the eastern and central Mediterranean. The strengths of each being so different made it hard for either to strike a 'knock-out blow' against the other. You can also understand how people have likened it to the Cold War. In addition, both these states were at the centre of shifting alliance blocs and there were numerous other city-states with their own armies and navies and their own territorial and trade objectives. In addition, many saw political upheaval moving between oligarchic and democratic systems of government, periodically supported by Sparta for the former and Athens for the latter. We must also not forget the Persian Empire, at the time controlling what is now Türkiye with both sides seeking to gain its support.

Having read this book I went on to play the 'Wrath of Sparta' (2014) scenario on 'Rome II Total War' (2013) and it really shows up the challenges of trying to sustain any control, especially over islands that opponents can land on at any time. I am not going to rehearse all the various details of the war here, it would take ages. However, as we have so many records from it Kagan is not only able to outline the actual battles, but also the politics that went on behind them. This led to prevarication of all sides. There are numerous cases in which military blundering, especially in terms of logistics, led to defeat, notably in the Athenian invasion of eastern Sicily. 

As noted above, Kagan moves through briskly, but very importantly with clarity, having sub-sections so that the reader is not lost amongst the narrative. Also beneficial are the numerous maps throughout the book which are really helpful not simply if you are unfamiliar with all the ancient towns and regions, but also show the specific challenges from holding particular towns or forts. The other welcome thing is that throughout Kagan stops the narrative to ask a series of rhetorical questions. Some of these are challenges to previous historians who have made lazy or biased interpretations of what was happening. Many, though, you feel that Kagan has been asked down the years by his university students. This is great for the reader for whom such questions might have also arisen.

Overall this is an engaging book which does a very difficult job very well. It is worthwhile reading to learn more about this conflict which does have so many parallels from the 5th Century BCE to the 20th Century CE. I now feel confident if anyone speaks about Pericles or Lysander, even Cyrus or Nicias. It might not help me win any computer games, though saying that, I do now know why it is essential that Corinth needs to control Naupatkos or as Sparta, Pylos.

'New Jerusalems: The Labour Party and the Economics of Democratic Socialism' by Elizabeth Durbin

Checking details of this book before writing this post, I have found that hardback editions like I possess are selling for £124-£140 on Amazon. So, if anyone wants one, please contact me here and I will sell it to you for £70 and will cover the postage cost.

Anyway, this book was published by Elizabeth Durbin (1937-99) in 1985. As well as an economic historian in her own right, lecturing mainly in the USA, she was the daughter of Evan Durbin (1906-48 drowned) who had been a leading Labour politician and provided much of the development of the party's economic thinking in the 1930s. That is what this book focus on, looking at the discussions among those in the party from its foundation up to the Second World War who explored how a Socialist economy could work, especially in the face of the Great Depression of the 1930s in particular the mass unemployment that hit Labour supporters and trade unionists so hard. She brings out the various groups that were established in the party to work on these ideas and in particular focuses on the men (and occasional woman like Barbara Wootton) such as Hugh Dalton, Hugh Gaitskell, G.D.H. Cole and John Maynard Keynes. 

It does start with a concise but very good articulation of how economics as a discipline in Britain (with particular input from Austria) was evolving from the end of the 19th Century through the first half of the 20th Century. This is very useful and shows the contrary views such as those by Von Hayek which the more Socialist economists were pressing against. The book also shows how the development of liberal economic perspectives notably of Beveridge and Keynes also impacted and at times bisected with a more 'Socialist' path. Of course, by 1948 even the Labour Government had abandoned Socialist economics in favour of the Keynesian approach which remained in place until the advent of New Right thinking driving the move to monetarism from 1976 onwards. 

At times, though Durbin is right to note that the Liberals were economically more radical than Labour. The inability to break free of the classical perception of economics from the 19th Century was a challenge throughout and one that Labour really never achieved, though picking up on some new methodologies such as marginal cost pricing. It is interesting to see the work that went into discussing the shape of a future British Socialist economy especially the New Fabian Research Bureau and the numerous pamphlets, some of which are now lost forever. There were extensive debates about whether joint stock banks and land should be nationalised and just how a Socialist economy could demonstrate consumer choice if prices were controlled and the economy planned.

The ins and outs of various policies, is handled well by Durbin and importantly it gives Dalton, the Chancellor of Exchequer 1945-47 a greater status, showing him to be a thoughtful economist rather than the blundering fogey he can rather appear in histories of the Labour governments. However, overall, though well told especially for a non-economist reader, you do wonder at how much effort was expended to so little end. Labour did gain more MPs at the 1935 election but was a long way from a majority. Labour MPs were welcomed into Churchill's wartime coalition but largely because they had abandoned much of the policies which had been discussed pre-war. Even when Labour attained power in 1945, really the only Socialist economic policy put in place was nationalisation of a number of industries. The welfare state policies were largely taken from the Liberal, Beveridge and after three years any Socialist planning was abandoned in favour of the policies of Keynes, another Liberal. I found it an intellectually stimulating book, but ultimately a discouraging one as it showed how little UK economic policies can be considered that stray even a short way from the orthodox 'rules' that are so in favour of the wealthy rather than wider UK society.

The Books I Read In February

Fiction

'Murder Underground' by Mavis Doriel Hay

Doriel Hay mainly wrote on rural handicrafts but she did produce three crime novels, I have two of them. This one was published in 1934 and is very much set in the Belsize Park district of North London and neighbouring areas, in particular Hampstead Heath. While the characters in 'Hickory Dickory Dock' (1955) are younger, and it is set post-war (though the dramatization for 'Poirot' (broadcast 1995) took it back to the 1930s) has the same feel with extensive discussions between residents of a single hostel/hotel. This novel mainly features the residents of the Frampton private residential hotel. 

An elderly resident of the hotel, Miss. Euphemia Pongleton is found strangled with the leash of her dog on the steps going down to the platforms at Belsize Park underground station. Her nephew, Basil and his cousin, Beryl have been fluctuating heirs to Aunt 'Phemia but the initial suspect is a worker at the underground station, Bob, who is 'stepping out' with a maid at the hotel and often walks Miss. Pongleton's dog. Another major character, Basil's love interest is called Betty throughout, rather than her full name, so it was clear Doriel Hay was thumbing her nose at the precept for authors against having more than one character with a name starting with the same letter. It is very easy at times to mix up Betty and Beryl as they are very similar in nature.

I think some readers, perhaps me included, will feel rather disgruntled by the approach adopted in this novel. It is certainly different to that typical of most detective novels. Especially in the early phases of the novel, there is simply discussion between various sets of characters and long stretches of dialogue. In fact the police detective, while spoken about is not seen by the reader until very late on in the book.

 Three other characters effectively advance the investigation. They are a resident, Mr. Blend with his convenient archive of newspaper cuttings of various peculiar crimes, prompts Mrs. Daymer, another resident who is bohemian in style and a crime novelist, and Gerry Plasher - Beryl's fiancé - to travel to Coventry to chase up on a similar old crime. This particularly is seen by the police to make Plasher suspicious. Contrary to the advances the trio make, Basil, who was actually in the station where the body was found finds it difficult to keep his story straight, so pulls in numerous others to try to avert suspicion from him. However, trying to conceal a pearl necklace of his aunt's he had pawned just makes it more complex.

Doriel Hay does write a  largely credible crime story though one largely based on dialogue. Aside from Basil, a very Bertie Wooster character, she manages pretty much to avoid stereotypes though slips at time into it as with Mrs. Daymer's clothes and with the hotel's maid, Nellie. It can be frustrating when things twist around so much but I suppose it is a sound portrayal of how the people around the edges of a murder behave and they are often the people left out of crime novels, something the author clearly wanted to redress here.

'Fevre Dream' by George R.R. Martin

Having read 'The Armageddon Rag' (1983) https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2024/07/the-books-i-read-in-july.html and 'Tuf Voyaging' (1986) https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2024/08/the-books-i-read-in-august.html?m=0 back in 2024, I got into conversation with the novelist and prolific book reviewer Dr. Laura Tisdall: https://drlauratisdall.wordpress.com/ While she enjoyed 'Tuf Voyaging' she did suggest I turn to this other non-Game of Thrones novel by Martin. While the ending is far too protracted, throughout this novel is well written. Louisiana vampires might now be commonplace but what Martin did with this one, published in 1982, was instead come from the focus of a steamship captain, Abner Marsh, working the upper tributaries of the Mississippi in the late 1850s. The Fevre is an actual river running from Wisconsin to Illinois and feeding into the wider Mississippi network. Even by the end of the novel in 1870, the river has been renamed the River Galena after the town it passes through just before joining the Mississippi.

Having lost four steamships to the previous year's ice flows, Marsh is approached by Joshua York who we steadily find out is a European vampire who relocated to the USA. He pays for Marsh to commission the largest, most opulent, and importantly, fastest, side-wheeled paddle steamer, the eponynmous 'Fevre Dream'. This he does and the two go into business, steadily working southwards until operating on the Lower Mississippi including into New Orleans. York is hunting other vampires operating in the regions they pass through in an attempt to convert them from killing humans to using his concoction instead, a kind of mid-Victorian version of TrueBlood. However, York's mission is not straight forward and once he encounters the old, powerful, cruel 'bloodmaster' Damon Julian and his vicious entourage things deteriorate. Marsh stays loyal and brings the novel, finally to a conclusion.

The whole concept even in the realm of vampire stories, is very refreshing, especially if we see how long ago the novel was written. However, what lifts it higher is Martin's attention to detail. Without having a lecture, along the way you learn so much about the riverboats - they ran on wood (and occasionally lard) in the 1850s, the people who operated them, the landscape and various locations up and down the rivers. The descriptions are really rich and I am sure even for US readers were really engaging. There are very good points of tension and indeed sometimes a sense of hopelessness in the face of power, but as some of the reviews have noted, that is actually what readers once expected from vampire stories rather than the approaches of the 21st Century. I wish Martin had ended the novel more sharply. There was no need to drag it on into the post-American Civil War period, even if he was insistent on the drawn-out climax. If you have the patience then this is a good read, especially in the first five-sixths of the novel.

'Munich Wolf' by Rory Clements

As someone who has written four detective novels set in Munich in the early 1920s I was fascinated to read this one set in that city but in 1935 when the Nazi regime had been established firmly in Germany. A young British woman, Rosie Palmer, one of many rich young Britons, is murdered while in Munich for the summer, learning German, partying and in many cases thoroughly engaging with the Nazi regime. Unity Mitford, genuinely a good friend of Hitler features heavily in the novel, alongside many other people who were part of the regime in and around Munich and Nuremberg, at the time. 

Inspector Sebastian Wolf is assigned to investigate the case. He benefits from the fact that his uncle is a very wealthy local politician. There is demand for a speedy resolution so as not to upset the negotiations around the Anglo-German Naval Treaty. Wolf is quickly handed a convenient suspect in the form of a Jew, Karl Friedlander who had had a relationship with Rosie in Britain that they continued in Germany, much to the disgust of Rosie's family and the racist Britons around them. Friedlander is executed but of course, he was never the murderer and the marks on Rosie's body, despite the disappearance of the photographs, were actually runic rather than Hebrew. To stop that coming to light, a homosexual linguistic's professor, a friend of Wolf, Caius Klammer is also murdered.

Given the context, Wolf faces a lot of obstacles and indeed physical attacks on him as he tries to resolve the case. On paper this sounds like a decent plot. Having read all of the Bernie Gunther (1989-2019) series of books by Philip Kerr which often involve investigations in Nazi Germany, I expected it to be of a similar quality. There are some aspects which are handled well. Clements portrays different parts of Munich effectively. He is also decent in the characterisations of the Britons and some of the Germans. Wolf's relationship with his girlfriend Hexie, his mother and his son, are done pretty well. However, other bits are two-dimensional. 

Wolf is a Murder Commission inspector investigating a high profile murder, but lacks a sergeant until one is transferred from the Political Police division (at the time run by Heinrich Himmler and not yet part of the Prussian Gestapo which was run by Hermann Göring). He seems to have no other detectives that he can command. In addition, he lacks senior officers, there are no superintendents, he simply reports to the deputy president of the Bavarian police. Yes, this man would be involved, but all the layers between him an Wolf, indeed a wider detective force, seems entirely absent.

There is a heavy-handedness. Yes, under the Nazi regime Jews and homosexuals would be blamed when guiltless, but the casual murders on the streets which are so prevalent in this novel, had come to an end with the Night of the Long Knives in 1934. It is improbable at this stage that a police inspector would be sent to the Dachau concentration camp by a lower ranking officer for not showing sufficient respect for Hitler. Wolf seems, despite his rank and standing, appears to have no authority of his own and is simply a catspaw for his uncle. The conversion of his assigned sergeant, Hans Winter, as a result of Wolf blackmailing seems far too abrupt. He starts as almost a comic nasty Nazi and then in an instant is a supportive collaborator with Wolf. Clements could have had similar points of tension made more subtly, more effectively, but really takes a sledgehammer to these aspects which quickly riles on the reader.

Overall, this story could have worked well. Clements shows he can write well, but here only when on the topics which particularly interest him. As he outlines in an essay at the end the whole milieu of rich Britons in Munich at this time, was the thing he was really interested in and as a result, the other aspects, necessary for an actual crime novel are just like theatre sets, not more substantial. At times, they are painful. There was no need to reference at the beginning, a zither player in the cafe or the men in Lederhosen. It seems Clements does not feel he can draw the reader in unless he piles on the Germanic tropes, scraped from 'The Third Man' (1949), 'Cabaret' (1972) and 'The Lady Vanishes' (1979 version). I still have not forgiven Kerr for featuring the Drittemann movie company in 'A German Requiem' (1991). The reader, who will often know and spot these conceits, feels that the illusion is broken. Anyway, I will certainly not be looking out for any more of the promised Sebastian Wolf novels.

'The Scent of the Night' by Andrea Camilleri

This is probably the most straight forward of the Montalbano mysteries. It has a lot of the usual characteristics such as the intermittent relationship with his long-distance girlfriend, the inspector eating high cuisine fish or shellfish dishes every day, deserted houses in the backwaters of Sicily and the - in theory - comic police phone operator. However, this is a neat and tidy story around the disappearance of Emanuele Gargano who was running a Ponzi scheme fraud. Naturally there are a lot of people who have lost money to the scheme would profess to want to kill the man. His middle-aged, besotted secretary waits for his return but then it transpires that Gargano's assistant has also disappeared after trying to lay a false trail buying tickets to various European cities. An unreliable eyewitness who hallucinates, not only leads Montalbano to where one of the bodies has ended up, but ultimately allows him to comprehend where that of Gargano actually is. This, the sixth novel in the series, benefits from being 'dialled down' a little. I have never found these books 'comic' as some describe them and indeed attempts at levity have been laboured and distracting. This one just gets on a does the business in a satisfying way while still encompassing the traits which mark out Montalbano stories.

'The Courts of Chaos' by Roger Zelanzy

This is the concluding book in the Princes of Amber pentalogy. Having discovered that his father, Oberon, has been masquerading as his old comrade, Ganelon, Corwin now has to go on a long journey to carry the Jewel of Judgment [sic] to the final climatic battle outside the Courts of Chaos. His brother Brand's attempt to erase the Pattern of this universe to install one of his own leads to a vast storm sweeping across all the different realms Corwin can pass through. Corwin's journey is I imagine intentionally like those of characters in 'The Faerie Queen' and 'Gawain and the Green Knight'. In addition to attempts by Brand to kill him or at least take the Jewel, there are others along the way who seek to tempt, seduce, harm or kill Corwin. He does seem rather gullible, perhaps because he is weary and concerned about being swept up by the unrelenting storm.

There is the battle outside the Courts of Chaos which leads to victory for the good (or at least amoral as opposed to immoral) side. Corwin is reunited with the son he was unaware he had, Merlin and a replacement king is found for Oberon who had already given his life in trying to prevent the storm destroying this universe. Probably not a spoiler to say that the new king is not Corwin but one of his siblings. There is some pontificating from Corwin at the end about what it all means, but it does not go on too long. There is some of the lengthy dialogue between the siblings - though fortunately less than in the previous novel - to continue to unknot the overly-complex plot Zelanzy had created and you do feel that like George R.R. Martin with his A Song of Ice and Fire, that he made it so knotty that he lost control of it. Fortunately the Amber novels come in at around 150 pages long, rather than 500-800 pages.

While at times the books in this series have been a bit irritating, I recognise that Zelanzy was trying to do something a bit different to what had been in fantasy up to then. The mixing of our world and a whole host of realms was in line with developments of the 1970s but he handles it differently to Moorcock. His usual of modern language and a kind of easy-going attitude that we perhaps associate with mid-1970s USA rather than the kind of quasi-medieval or barbarian tone adopted by so many fantasy novels before. I also have to remind myself that some 50 years on and with a lot of fantasy fiction published since then, some things that now appear hackneyed were fresher back then. The leprechauns trying to tempt Corwin to stay beneath the ground drinking was old hat even back then.

Zelanzy's focus on an extensive family rather than nations, the use of things like the Pattern, a challenging maze that both balances reality but can also present personal benefits or challenges and the Trumps (!) to contact family members and teleport to them, remain quite distinctive. I imagine at the time these aspects must have seemed refreshing even if now they may have lost - for a reader today - some of their spark.

Non-Fiction

'The Nine Lives of Otto Katz' by Jonathan Miles

This is about the Czechoslovak secret agent for the USSR, Otto Katz (1895-1952 executed). He was a successful propagandist and spy in the 1930s-50s. He adopted a string of identities and as Miles shows he was able to adapt his demeanour effectively to be convincing in each. He was involved in theatre and literature right throughout, moving as his Soviet masters required, from Prague to Berlin, Paris, London, civil-war Spain, New York and Hollywood. He was popular among leading celebrities of the movie industry. Katz was strongly anti-Nazi having witnessed the rise of Hitler at first hand in Berlin. He was able to enlist liberals into fund raising and propaganda events such as the 'trial' in London testing what had been put out by the Nazis around the Reichstag Fire. 

As Katz remained loyal to Stalin's regime, taking part of purging the non-Stalinists from the Republican side in Spain and not questioning Stalin's behaviour even when the USSR was in alliance with Nazi Germany 1939-41, Miles feels that any liberal Katz influenced must have either been pro-Soviet or deluded. He is dismissive of any other motive for opposing the Nazis. The author really buys into the McCarthyite attitude that there was really no way to oppose Nazism without being a Communist unless you were hard right-wing. This is despite the fact that he highlights people in Katz's various circles who became suspicious of him and either distanced themselves or cut him off completely. It seems to Miles that one touch is sufficient to contaminate someone entirely. Katz's loyalty did not pay off and he was one of the last to be executed in a purge by Stalin.

The book is academically robust with lots of references to sound sources. While there is lots of interesting detail, almost all of which is absent from Katz's Wikipedia entry, Miles seems obliged to make his story overly dramatic and at times it is not clear if he was meaning to write a thriller rather than a historical analysis. Especially at the beginning of the book there is a lot of jumping around in time and topic when in fact given the complexity of the story and the various aliases there needs to be real clarity. While I learnt some things from this book, Miles's melodramatic approach but above all his inability to see that not all (in fact most) anti-Nazis were not Communist and his repeated insistence on this point makes this an irritating book to read.

'Establishment and Meritocracy' by Peter Hennessy

This was the last, the newest (2014) and the shortest of Hennessy's books that I possessed. It is only 68 pages long. However, given what I have said before about despite his years in universities, Hennessy has not really shaken off the journalistic approach, this format works well for him. As usual he blends in personal memories and outlooks with quotes and input from notable people across the period. He looks at how the British Establishment is defined and how while the old structures like the elite public schools, the military, House of Lords, judiciary, etc. remain, there are new facets to the Establishment especially in terms of those influential or powerful in media and in finance. He looks at how meritocracy rose as a concept, in particular in terms of his beloved civil service, decades before the publication of  'The Rise of the Meritocracy' (1958) by Michael Dunlop Young put it into common parlance.

Reading the book more than a decade after its publication we can see in which facets Hennessy was very prescient. As he notes throughout, both the principles are about establishing hierarchy whether that is simply through birth or through recognition of a greater competency in certain skills. It is still a hierarchy and he cautions about the fate of those deemed to lack 'merit'. He warns of the possibility of a vicious populist backlash which would baulk against meritocracy instead seeking a hierarchy built on other characteristics. He notes wealth would be one of these, but perhaps did not spot that race would be thrust back into such thinking too. He does also pick up on how the 'ladders' that people of his generation were able to climb from relatively humble backgrounds, were liable to be removed or closed off. These things have all come to pass both quietly and in terms of vicious insistence, accompanied by violence, of a racial/wealth hierarchy by the populists and their supporters, even when it is actually detrimental to those supporters themselves. 

Hennessy here was not setting out to be a prophet but given his love of analysing how British society and politics function, he actually highlighted trends that would manifest in the following years in the way that he does tentatively caution about.

The Books I Read In January

Fiction

'It Walks By Night' by John Dickson Carr

I only found this Dickson Carr book recently. It was his first published novel (the British Library version I read also includes a short story he had printed in a college magazine) coming out in 1930. Whereas the books by him that I read last year, 'She Died A Lady' (1943) https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2025/10/the-books-i-read-in-october.html and 'Till Death Do Us Part' (1944) https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2025/12/the-books-i-read-in-december.html were almost exemplars of 'Golden Age' crime novels set in Britain, this has a very different feel. It is set in Paris of the 1920s and features Henri Bencolin, a juge d'instruction, which anyone who watched the 'Spiral' ['Engrenages'] (broadcast 2005-20) knows, rather than the police, play a major role in France in investigations. He featured in five of Dickson Carr's novels. The novel is told, however, from the perspective of Jeff Marle, a young American friend of Bencolin's and he is aided by Austrian psychiatrist Dr. Grafenstein.

Dickson Carr was very much influenced by the work of fellow US author Edgar Allan Poe and his 'The Murders in the Rue Morgue' (1841) similarly set in Paris. In fact Poe's influence goes deeper because, as the title suggests, this is not really a detective novel but more a Gothic horror one. This can be seen from the outset as the murder victim, the Duc de Saligny, is killed by being beheaded in a card room of a seedy though expensive Paris night club which is also a front for drug dealing. It is a locked room mystery which was a common approach for Dickson Carr.

 As I have noted before, Dickson Carr was very good at describing the scenes in which his stories were set though in this book it is often to give an air of sinister settings and a feeling of impending doom, which he does well, once you accept this is not a typical detective story. The sense of preordained death and misery is further developed by the fact that Bencolin seems to know what is going to happen in advance and at the end has all the answers yet fails to reveal them as the investigation continues. This seems to have come from the gimmick the publishers introduced in that the final section of the novel was sealed and if they had not broken the seal readers could return their edition for a refund. However, reading right through, it does make you feel: 'why did he not mention this before?', though admittedly the necessary clues are there and sometimes laid on a little thick.

Two further aspects add to the Gothic feel. While the Volstead Act which introduced Prohibition in the USA in 1920 is mentioned, we also pick up on the very strong US opposition to narcotics at the time with legislation in 1909 and 1924. Characters believe that the smoking of marijuana would kill the user within five years and in the meantime permanently distort their sense of self and make them see hallucinations. I am no supporter of even 'soft' drugs, but am aware that the effects are not as severe as shown here. European countries of the time had a much greater tolerance of drug abuse, in part because of the range of narcotics consumed by First World War soldiers. Drugs turn up quite regularly in both Sherlock Holmes stories (which Conan Doyle was publishing as late as 1927) and Agatha Christie novels. In this novel the narcotic abuse is also linked over to the psychoanalytical aspects, especially around questions of identity. Thus we have a context in which characters, especially women, are in a deadly hallucinatory state at times, uncertain of who they and the people around them, are.

This is a different read to other books in the British Library series that I have read. I am not a fan of horror and this is effectively a psychological horror book which seems hemmed in by strong views of the time. The publisher's gimmick also rather distorts the book making it feel even less realistic, but perhaps realism was not what Dickson Carr was seeking, rather this rather nightmare-like context in which no-one can really be certain of anything around them.

Perhaps it is unsurprising that many of these elements are found in the short story at the end, 'The Shadow of the Goat' (1926). This features Bencolin but really comes over very much like an episode of 'Jonathan Creek' (broadcast 1997-2016) in which a supposedly impossible, demonic like disappearance is explained. It is not bad.

'Lies, Damned Lies and History' by Jodi Taylor

It has been more than 45 years since I have abandoned reading a book, but I came very close with this one. It is the seventh book in the Chronicles of St. Mary's time-travelling series and from almost the outset I have found dealing with the erratic tone of the novels, difficult. They go between what I have termed 'jolly hockey sticks' almost humour of a British educational institution with harsh tragedy. This one takes that right up to the limit. I guess Taylor felt that despite all the deaths and life-changing injuries inflicted on her characters she had to raise the jeopardy level as the series continued. However, it is incredibly bleak and exudes immense hopelessness that you quickly want to distance yourself from. Only a convenient deus ex machina stops this book effectively becoming a psychological and even physical horror, given it is dealing with a heavily pregnant woman.

Yes, in this novel, the protagonist, Max is pregnant. This has minimal impact on the dangers she is thrust into. As one character noted a couple of novels back the St. Mary's Institute is largely staffed with incompetent people who put themselves and quite often history as we know it, at risk. While Taylor seems to battle in deciding what kind of novel she is writing, her strength does lie in her portrayals of the historic incidents that her characters visit. The series would have been better if these had formed larger parts of the novels as with them she really shows her abilities and raises fascinating questions about what went on. They, unfortunately, feature as little more than 'episodes'. Yes, it it is legitimate to say that the novels are more about the development of the protagonist as she moves from being a very immature young woman (though her age is not clear in the early books given she already has a doctorate) to a more accomplished, caring but still incompetent woman somewhere in her thirties.

The first visit in this novel is to a hilltop fort in 6th Century Wales where the people, aided by the man who effectively is remembered as King Arthur, fight against Saxon attackers. The location and the risks are well described. The way the male members of the St. Mary's party avoid having to fight and thus risking altering history, is ingenious. The jeopardy is well done and I really thought we were going to see a step-up in these books. The giving of a sword to a local hermit, brings in a mystical element which has not been present before. Coming back to modern times as is typical St. Mary's alerts its parent university, the fictional University of Thirsk so they can locate the sword and 'discover' it. However, this leads to a series of disasters in the area and Max and her friends steal the sword back. This gets them all set back in their careers and Max simply put on mundane duties for much of the book ahead of her maternity leave.

There is another fascinating trip back in time when the disgraced team travel to 1216 to see what they can recover from the crown jewels that King John supposedly lost in the Wash so it can be discovered by Thirsk bringing such wealth and prominence as to restore St. Mary's in its favour. There is a great scene in which we see a tidal surge crashing out of the Wash. Realising they cannot retrieve anything from the chaos it leaves, they go back further to see what they can grab earlier, almost like the 'Time Bandits' (1981).

Eventually restored to some standing within the institute, Max moves steadily to her maternity leave. However, leaving on her final day she is abducted and put into an utterly impossible situation in which she will be compelled to prostitute herself in some barren unknown past or abandon her child. This marks the return of Clive Ronan, the prime antagonist of these novels though he has been quiet for a while. I know Taylor wants to make him see a genuine threat but she goes far too far for what is supposedly packaged as a 'jolly' book and moves into the realm of the torture porn movies like the 'Saw' (2004-23) series. I do really think this book should have carried a warning. I am uncertain now if I will read any more in the series even though I own three more of them.

'Sharpe's Assassin' by Bernard Cornwell

With 'Sharpe's Storm' coming out late last year, this was now the penultimate of the Sharpe novels I had not read. It was published in 2021 and is set in 1815, with Sharpe moving on from the location of the Battle of Waterloo to chase down remnants of Napoleon's forces and then for the majority of the book hunting those seeking to assassinate the Duke of Wellington in Paris while he is part of establishing the occupation and the post-Napoleonic system. This is an interesting period to pick as in the older Sharpe novels, all we had seen of him after becoming a lieutenant colonel for the battle, was set in 1820-21 in 'Sharpe's Devil' (1992) by which time Lucille, his French wife, is dead and the wars in Europe are long over. Chasing after the Fraternity secret society allows Cornwell to show us early 19th Century Paris with all the left-overs from Napoleon's reign and also aspects like the vineyards contained within the city walls one of which proves to be the base of Wellington's would-be assassins.

As usual there are annoying, misguided officers, but Sharpe now in command of a British battalion is able to act on a larger scale. Saying that he does draw on his remaining riflemen and there are some great scenes fighting across Paris and then a confrontation at the vineyard with his final antagonist which did, however, remind me of the duel in 'Rob Roy' (1995). It was also good to see him enjoying time with Lucille. While Teresa Moreno his Spanish wife killed in December 1813 is a wonderful guerilla leader, it is nice we see him enjoying his relationship with Lucille who treats him far better than his uppity British wife Jane Gibbons. As there is no formal divorce and Jane, in theory, lives to 1844 Sharpe's other marriages are bigamous. Overall I enjoyed this book and found it engaging.

This was an interesting development for Sharpe and the book is better handled than 'Sharpe's Command' (2023) which I read in December: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2025/12/the-books-i-read-in-december.html  I do hope that Cornwell's editors took a firmer hand with 'Sharpe's Storm' to avoid the inconsistencies that so weakened Sharpe's Command'. I will have to see once the book reaches a charity shop near me.

'Excursion to Tindari' by Andrea Camilleri

This is the fifth book in the Montalbano series and is a straight forward police procedural. The only hiccough seems to be the inconsistency in the inspector's relationship with his deputy, Mimi Augello. I do not know if this is due to the translation, but whereas in the first three books Montalbano seemed to have contempt for the man and there was often friction between them, by the time of  'The Voice of the Violin' (1997) their relationship appeared to have sharply shifted. This is especially notable as the books follow each other tightly in terms of chronology feeling to cover a matter of weeks at most. Anyway, in this book Motalbano is so enamoured with Augello that he tries to stop his leaving for Sicily to live with his fiancée, a police officer, in Pavia. This is because he cannot envisage diminishing his team. His scheme is not too difficult as Augello is a womaniser and his boss engineers for an attractive young woman he has encountered in this book's cases to become friendly with Augello.

As with a number of the Montalbano books, there are two cases which seem unconnected but ultimately are locked together. One is the disappearance of an insular elderly couple, the Griffos, on the eponymous coach excursion to Tindari. The other is the shooting dead of a young man, a Nenè Sanfilippo, at the entrance to the apartment block where the Griffos lived.  He is into pornography and one of his sexual encounters provides the link between him, the Griffos and a third person.

This novel was written in 2000 and as seen in the previous book, technology is becoming part of police work. Not only is the user of scanners important but the horrendous crime behind the fate of the three victims is permitted by the use of a remote building that is well equipped with phone lines and internet connections. As before, Montalbano tries to navigate his way around the mafia who seem to favour him for their revelations. It appears that an old don is going to give up his fugitive grandson, but naturally it ends the way most things do with the mafia. This aspect, this helplessness in the face of the plans of others is added to by this floundering that Montalbano feels faced with what crimes the new technologies may permit.

There are the usual elements of the inspector eating a wonderful array of Sicilian cuisine, predominantly sea food, his long-distance relationship with Livia and the return of his ambivalent one with Ingrid who tends to act as a dea ex machina. In this novel she happens to know one of the women who features in one of Sanfilippo's videos that provides the final link in the chain. Overall this is a solid police procedural novel which is clever in its mechanics and makes good use of the Sicilian landscape and the food of the island.

'The Hand of Oberon' by Roger Zelanzy

Like I imagine quite a few people of my generation I did not come to Zelanzy's Amber stories through the books but through the Dungeons and Dragons module, 'Dungeon Module X2: Castle Amber (Château d'Amberville)' (1981) by Tom Moldvay. This makes use of the Amber family from Zelanzy's novels, but puts them into the Averoigne world of another author, Clark Ashton Smith. Anyway, this is the fourth book in Zelanzy's series. I read the first one in the series, 'Nine Princes in Amber' (1970), many years ago, so had some idea of that context.

The books of this pentalogy follow Corwin one of the numerous princes and princesses of Amber, a medieval style world that sits alongside our own which Amberites as they are known refer to as Shadow. In Shadow they are able run versions of themselves and they have different abilities to manipulate. There are also other realms they can visit including Rebma a mirror world of Amber under the sea, Tir-na Nog'th a sky city accessible when the Moon is shining on it and the Courts of Chaos. These things probably seemed a bit fresher in the 1970s than the tropes they have hardened into. These worlds are defined by the Pattern a kind of labyrinth that you find in European cathedrals. If someone from Amber is able to walk it they can achieve certain powers, notably attunement with the Jewel of Judgment [sic] which controls weather and has other powers.

In the first book, Corwin awakes in 1960s USA with a memory loss and it takes time for him to find out who are what he is before becoming embroiled in family feuds. The stories focus on the struggle for the throne of King Oberon, the father of all the princes and princesses who had disappeared at the opening of the series. Various siblings form factions to try to seize or protect the throne for others. A lot of this has gone in the preceding three books. Much of this book is about Corwin wandering around trying to untangle the various conspiracies. Chapter 2 also has an extensive info dump that recaps the entirety of the plots of the previous three novels. This feels really levered in. It reminded me of US TV documentaries in which after an advert break you get an extensive recap of everything that had been covered just minutes before.

The first half of the 188-page book is very slow. If you were someone who had read the preceding books then you would not need all this detail, except in a few places where deception had taken place. There is a lot of dialogue but really the book only starts going in the second half when Corwin in league with various of his brothers and a sister, and the neutrality of some, goes in search of his brother Brand who is seeking to erase the Pattern by spilling Amber prince blood on it so he can establish new worlds dominated by him. There are some clever encounters both on the Pattern and in Tir-na Nog'th. The set-up for the final book 'The Courts of Chaos' (1978), which I have a copy of, is soundly made with the revelation of who Oberon has been disguised as.

Overall, there are elements to this book which are decent fantasy and at the time must have seemed fresher still. In some ways Zelanzy (a little like Martin) has tied himself in knots by trying to be very clever with the family feuding. This would be less of a problem if he did not feel obliged to untangle every last thread for the reader before pushing on with the narrative. I think this fourth book suffers more than the others because it is very much a linking book to the the climax.

'Dictator' by Robert Harris

This is the final book in Harris's trilogy which charts the life of the Roman lawyer, orator and politician Cicero. The previous two books were 'Imperium' (2006) https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2020/06/books-i-read-in-june.html and 'Lustrum' (2009) https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2023/07/the-books-i-read-in-july.html This one covers the final decades of Cicero's life in which the Roman Republic he worked so hard to maintain was effectively ended with a civil war and Julius Caesar becoming a corrupt though magnanimous dictator before he was assassinated. This was followed by a second civil war among Caesar's adopted son and close associates of Caesar. Like a lot of people I was probably familiar with Caesar's assassination in isolation without all the context building up to it, let alone what followed before his adopted son took over and became Emperor Augustus, condemning Rome to being a dictatorial empire until its final end, in Western Europe, at least, 400 years later.

This book is told through the eyes of Tiro, Cicero's genuine secretary who was accomplished himself and developed short hand. This perspective allows Roberts to show not only the very complex politics of the times with the rise and fall of a string of politicians and generals, but also the personal side in Cicero's life and the tragedies of his period in exile, collapsing marriage, the mistreatment and early death of his daughter, his ill-advised second marriage and the fluctuating attitudes of his son, brother and nephew, who were supporters of Julius Caesar. He does capable portrayals of leading men like Pompey, Caesar and Octavian who in their different ways relied on Cicero. There are also the less familiar individuals like Clodius who caused so much harm and Milo who saved Cicero at various times. 

Thus, though we know the outcome, Roberts does very well in bringing tension and real drama to the story as it unfolds. He provides ample information on the Roman world and its political churn but using Tiro he is able to put this into a form which the reader can follow without difficulty nor turning it into a history or politics lecture. Tiro's life advances though he keeps close to Cicero. He is freed and given a farm in thanks for all his efforts. We also get to see inside not just the temples and public buildings but a whole range of homes of people of different wealth levels.

Perhaps reading this book in 2026 was the wrong thing to do. At regular points in the slow but steady climb of Julius Caesar to dictatorship you see him and his supporters using tactics to distort and ultimately destroy the semi-democratic process of the Roman Republic which could have come right from current headlines about the USA. The risks those trying to resist the steps he takes, also remain the same, though in fact these days the person is liable to be shot dead rather than sent into exile for some years.

I do heartily recommend the entire trilogy. Some might worry that will be very dry, almost academic in nature, but these books show Harris's skill at its peak, weaving excitement and drama into real life historical events to make what unfolds as tense and engaging as any of the best thrillers. 

Non-Fiction

'Putin's Killers' by Amy Knight

This is an interesting if rather galling account of the political assassinations carried out on the orders of Vladimir Putin. It was published in 2017, but my edition was an updated one from 2019 which had been extended to cover the attempted murder of Sergei Skripal and his daughter using the Novichok nerve chemical in Salisbury in March 2018. They survived but Briton, Dawn Sturgess died as a result of the attempt and her friend, Charlie Rowley suffering severe illness. Knight shows the historical background of Russian political assassinations and looks at Putin's career before going through various cases, perhaps the best known being Alexander Litvinenko also murdered in Britain this time using Polonium-210. 

Knight shows how patterns are repeated with typically Chechens being assigned and/or blamed for the various murders. Putin promises to catch the killers of his opponents, but the Russian legal system is very slow to do anything about the cases and eventually finds scapegoats. Many of those who are employed to do the killings, as the Skripal and Litvinenko cases showed, are incompetent. This demonstrates that the Russian government is not really concerned if their part in the killings is recognised, and in fact it adds to the intimidating factor of carrying them out. Like many semi-dictators, Putin is very petulant and is infuriated by any attacks on his policies notably the brutal war in Chechnya but also of any he feels has betrayed him. Despite the publication of this book, the killings have continued as can be seen in the case of lawyer Alexei Navalny who died in prison in 2024 from maltreatment following a sham trial.

Knight who has written extensively on contemporary Russian politics maintains a quiet optimism throughout this book, that Putin will be overthrown and that those who murdered for him would be brought to justice. However, it is now 9 years since the book first came out and nothing has changed. The approaches she shows here in detail continue and Putin's position appears under no threat. 

Knight's writing style is very brisk with lots of sub-sections. At first I found this a little too speedy a style, but as I progressed I realised given all the names she mentions and the twists of the various assassination set-ups and aftermaths, it helps the reader keep a handle on all the detail without becoming bogged down in it.

'Muddling Through. Power, Politics and the Quality of Government in Postwar Britain' by Peter Hennessy

Similar to 'The Secret State' (2002) which I read in December: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2025/12/the-books-i-read-in-december.html rather than new material, this is a collection of output from Peter Hennessy in other media such as radio programmes and lectures. However, much of it lacks even the linking theme that 'The Secret State' and is rather a 'muddle' to coin the phrase. Some of it is very esoteric. There is a whole chapter which simply recounts a discussion between the MPs Tony Benn and Enoch Powell on their ideas for the royal prerogative in the parliamentary system. Given that this book was first published in 1996 and the issue of the royal prerogative was to feature notably for legislation of the Blair government which came into office the following year, it was a missed opportunity to explore the issue better than simply hearing the views of two opposing old politicians. 

There is some interesting stuff on what might happen in terms of procedure with a hung parliament which was quite expected in the mid-1990s but did not really come about until 2010. There is a peon to the British Civil Service delivered as a lecture at the Civil Service College. Perhaps Hennessy was right to push its importance as though it was abolished in 2012, the National School of Government was established in 2021 with a campus at the former college's Sunningdale site. There is more material about Britain's relationship with nuclear weapons which covers a lot of the ground (sometimes in the same words) as these issues are handled in 'Never Again' (1993) and 'The Secret State'. The section on Britain seeking its role on the global stage and a study of the Suez Conflict of 1956 is better and has some interesting insight.

The best bit of the book are the vignettes of all the post-war Prime Ministers. As is typical for Hennessy he draws a great deal on the comments of those who worked with those people, and in a number of cases the former premiers themselves. Though short, these provide insightful essays of their periods in office and the personal contexts around those. The one on Margaret Thatcher is very rushed and Hennessy shows his distaste for her from the outset. There are no quotes from her colleagues or civil servants who served her. Given he wrote that piece in 1992, soon after she had left office, he probably felt it was too soon to really analyse her 11 years as Prime Minister.

Back in the late 1990s I heard someone very negatively compare Hennessy's work to that of his university colleague Donald Sassoon whose latest book 'Revolutions' came out just in November. Having met both men, I certainly would never say a warm word for Sassoon as a person. However, having read four Hennessy books over the past few months I can see why he is criticised for his historical writing. Yes, he is able to access aspects of British politics which otherwise would be unknown and he is a very good interviewer. Yet it seems that he 'rechews' the good elements he gets so much that unless you are unfamiliar with his body of work you might see them repeated multiple times. I now feel that his work is less than the sum of its parts, though there are 'gems' in those parts. He is also a great radio broadcaster and his programmes, many of which are available via BBC I-Player do show off his particular skills to the best and in a way this book, apart from the prime ministers' sections, does not really do.

The Books I Read In December

This year I read 60 books. In 2024 I read 59 and in 2023, 53 books, but I am getting a feel for the quantity I will get through, a little more than equivalent one book per week. This year the longest book I read was 851 pages. In fact it and the next two longest at 764 pages and 682 pages, were all non-fiction and about British politics. The shortest book I read was only 111 pages long but there were three others under 150 pages, one of which I read in a day.

Fiction

'Till Death Do Us Part' by John Dickson Carr

Published under Dickson Carr's real name in 1944, this novel, another in the British Library Classic Crime series, is actually set in an archetypal English village before the war had broken out. Though an American it is clear that Dickson Carr adored rural England. His at times almost poetic descriptions of the sights of the village at different times of the day add a richness to the novel not found in all detective stories of the time. As with 'She Died A Lady' (1943) which I read in October: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2025/10/the-books-i-read-in-october.html the village he conjures up, in this case Six Ashes (perhaps influenced by Sevenoaks?) is an idealised - though feasible - English setting, not only in terms of its geography but also of the local characters, such as the squire at the manor, the doctor, the banker, etc. The only American perspective which stands out is when through a character he has to lecture Britons in general about how practical window screens to keep out insects are, despite their absence in most British houses.

There is a good psychological element to this story. The protagonist is a playwright, Richard Markham,who writes popular mystery plays. He has fallen in love with a newcomer to the village, Lesley Grant and becomes engaged to her. However, at the village fete held in the grounds of Ashe Manor, a fortune teller, apparently in fact criminologist Sir Harvey Gilman reveals to Markham that Grant has killed three men she was in relationships via a locked-room approach employing cyanide. Clearly Markham is torn in considering whether his fiancée is a murderess. Modern readers are likely to fall into thinking we are into 'Black Widow' (1987) movie territory, especially when Cynthia Drew a close friend of Markham's also appears to be antagonistic towards Grant and appears in apparently suspicious locations.

Cleverly Dickson Carr uses our expectations of how different types of individual in such a setting will behave to mislead us. I have to be careful with spoilers, but eventually it becomes apparent that Grant may not be the only one concealing a very different past. This book is the 15th in Dickson Carr's Dr. Gideon Fell series of novels and Fell does turn up quite late in the book. He is obese and you tend to think he is modelled on Ernst Gennat (1880-1939), the prominent (and overweight) Berlin detective active 1925-39. In addition, he seems quite superfluous. We already have Superintendent David Hadley on the scene. The tension between the two and with other professionals perhaps is realistic but at times feels laboured as if the various running around between various houses especially at nighttime. At the end you feel Fell has held back intentionally on providing the solution until the time was right for him to be able to be seen to trump both Markham and Hadley and gain the most kudos.

Overall, for at times challenging expectations, adding the psychological element of a protagonist in love with a perhaps murderer and a beautiful portrayal of an inter-war English village, this is worth a read, but be patient towards the end when things seem to begin to lag unnecessarily. Since reading this novel I have found a copy of Dickson Carr's first crime novel which I aim to read early in the new year.

'What Could Possibly Go Wrong?' by Jodi Taylor

This is the sixth book in the Chronicles of St. Mary's and follows pretty much the same formula as the previous ones. The heroine Max, now married to the Leon Farrell, due to her injuries in previous novels has a job swap to 'lighter duties' training up five new recruits to the institute. It is also revealed that when she was transferred into an alternate timeline from her original one in 'A Second Chance' (2014) https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2024/04/the-books-i-read-in-april.html and officially renamed 'Lucy' she has come to a world where the USA suddenly became an authoritarian dictatorship and Britons trapped there had to be smuggled out to safety.

The incessant mistakes and tragedies that the staff of St. Mary's suffer does become rather tiresome. As one character increasingly points out, they are actually pretty useless at their jobs and regularly put themselves unnecessarily in harm's way which does lead to deaths. In turn the deaths bring in a jarring element to the 'jolly hockey sticks' tone that otherwise is prominent in the novels, rather the way the torture scenes jar with the overall tone of the Flashman books (1969-2005). The strongest parts are Taylor's portrayals of the historic locations that the crews visit. In this one they go to the Valley of the Kings in 18th dynasty Egypt;  a site of Homo Sapiens - Neanderthal interaction in stone age times; to meet with Ancient Greek historian Herodotus - very different from what is expected - and have a new run-in with the Time Police; to witness the execution of Joan of Arc and the Battle of Bosworth Field. In each location damaging mistakes are made and in one this leads as usually happens in these books, to the death of a crew member, in fact in this one there is an extra death. 

As in other recent books there is also a mystery around who has betrayed the Institute to their antagonists. This again proves to be two people, one very unexpected and the other you might work out early on. This sub-plot and what it reveals about people suspected of treachery, adds an interesting element to the novel. I have two more books in the main series to read and then two short story anthologies. I do hope these move away from the set pattern of the books so far which has never really fully settled down into what it feels it should be doing.

'Sharpe's Escape' by Bernard Cornwell

About 20 years ago I read all of Cornwell's Sharpe books that had been published up until 2003 - 'Sharpe's Havoc' (2003). I read them in chronological order rather than the order in which they had been published, starting in 1981. Recently, however, I realised that I had missed out this one published in 2007. In terms of history, this book is set in 1810 and comes between 'Sharpe's Gold' (1981) and 'Sharpe's Fury' (2007) - one which I have not yet got a copy of. 

Despite publishing the books over what is now a 44-year period ('Sharpe's Storm' is imminently due for publication), Cornwell has been very adept at keeping his character correct for the time period the book is set in. In this one there are callbacks to a grim scene in 'Sharpe's Prey' (2001) set in Copenhagen in 1807. Captain Sharpe and his usual band of riflemen with additional redcoat musketeers are part of the British retreat down Portugal to the refuge behind the Lines of the Torres Vedras, the vast defensive structure Wellington set up to defend Lisbon which led to the defeat of the French in Portugal and the slow progress of British and allied forces towards France.

This novel moves along briskly, with all the usual elements you would expect in a Sharpe novel. His very common background leads to friction with upper class officers, but he benefits from Major Hogan and behind him Wellington himself, who ensure that he can weather the behaviour of these men, notably in this novel, the commander of Sharpe's battalion Lieutenant Colonel William Lawford who is trying to bring on his young brother-in-law by effectively putting him into Sharpe's place in command of the Light Company. As it is following a well-told account of the Battle of Bussaco, Sharpe and Sergeant Harper set with the task of finding billets and destroying supplies in Coimbra so they cannot be used by the advancing French. 

There is, as usual, personal tension between Sharpe and a treacherous Portuguese major and his explicitly criminal brother. As the British march on, Sharpe has to escape Coimbra along with Harper, an English governess - who develops greatly in the escape and a Portuguese captain Sharpe has met before when were both were lieutenants taking part in the British retreat from Oporto in 1809 ('Sharpe's Havoc' (2003)). 

Despite the formulaic nature of many of the Sharpe scenarios, Cornwell is successful in making the stories different. Though we know already that Sharpe is alive still in 1821, there is an effective sense of jeopardy as they get clear of Coimbra through ancient sewers and seek a boat to take them downstream to the Lines of Torres Vedras, then to avoid being killed as they come up to them, themselves. I have a couple of other post-2003 Sharpe novels to read but am coming at them in chronological order.

'Sharpe's Command' by Bernard Cornwell

Following a break after 2007, in 2021 Cornwell began publishing a few more Sharpe novels. As with many authors with series these days, these were 'fill-in' books in between books in the series that had been published earlier. This is one of those books being set in May 1812 around the Bridge at Almaraz across the River Tagus in Spain. It sits between 'Sharpe's Company' (1982) at the Siege of Badajoz 'Sharpe's Sword' (1983) set during the Salamanca Campaign.

The error around his rank in this novel has been picked up. In 'Sharpe's Company' he was restored to the rank of captain after being refused that rank permanently in January 1812, earlier in that novel, due to a lack of a captain's vacancy. This was despite him being promoted to the rank locally back in July 1809 ('Sharpe's Eagle' (1981)). He is raised only to brevet major late in 1812 ('Sharpe's Enemy' (1984)) and then only due to the intervention of the Prince Regent. Despite these details and me previously complimenting Cornwell's success at continuity, there is confusion even just within this novel about Sharpe's rank with some calling him captain and some calling him major. At first I thought that was intentional to reflect how other officers saw him but now it seems to have been an error.

The attack on the bridge at Almaraz was an actual raid carried out behind French lines. The novel naturally involves actual people notably General Rowland Hill who commanded it, but also Lieutenant Love an artillery officer who with a team were able to shell the small French fort on the northern bank after the pontoon bridge across it had been broken. The sergeant of the 50th Regiment who killed a French officer with his half-pike also features. Other fictional characters are woven in to make it a Sharpe book. There is a treacherous Spanish partisan who is killed in a brutal duel by Sharpe's second wife, Spanish partisan leader, Teresa Moreno 'La Aguja' who features quite extensively in this novel. The riflemen under Sharpe's command play a leading part not only in the main battle but also in skirmishes leading up to it when they are carrying out correspondence.

The story of this action is complicated even historically with an assortment of forts on both sides of the Tagus to be taken into consideration. Cornwell does his best but it is at times a little bewildering about where everyone is going and in which direction they are firing. There is a map of the region at the start but a closer-in one of the pontoon bridge and the forts defending it would have been really useful. While Cornwell does describe the battles successfully and really keeps up the tension, the fact that twice Sharpe and his band are only saved by mounted charges by partisans suggests he was beginning to run out of ideas. Lieutenant Love's character seems to change sharply from when he first appears in the book to when he reappears at the end, calling on St. Barbara at every possible occasion whereas earlier he had been much more passive. It is always a challenge for authors to fictionalise genuine historical characters that we actually do not know much about, but it is a shame that Cornwell could not maintain consistency with Love.

I have 'Sharpe's Assassin' (2021) to read and given it was published two years before this one, though set three years later, I hope it still shows the complete skill that Cornwell once had or at least he used an editor to call out when he made mistakes or when what he was writing had lost its 'edge'.

'The Voice of the Violin' by Andrea Camilleri

This is the fourth book in the Montabalno series and is a brisk, straight forward detective novel. A woman, Michela Licalzi is found naked following both vaginal and anal sexual intercourse at a remote farmhouse she is having done up. There is no trace of her belongings beside a bath towel and her car which one of Montalbano's staff crashed into. The story follows solid detection work going through Licalzi's husband and her lovers. Ironically the prime clue to the motive is in the title rather than anything sexual. It is to reach this that Montalbano does solid detection, though at times bending the law such as breaking into the dead woman's house before her death has even been reported.

As before, Montalbano is regularly at odds with his colleagues notably his deputy Mimi Augello who in fact is more honorable than much online commentary suggests. The police switchboard operator Officer Catarella is portrayed as a buffoon added to by the translator, Stephen Sartarelli rendering his speech like a comic version of a New York Italian. There are fortunately signs towards the end of the novel, that Catarella is maturing, which is a relief. At times these points of friction seem really laboured so the interactions grate. It feels there is a lack of reason for Montalbano's behaviour especially when he can be charming to others, notably the old woman, Signora Clementina who has featured before and is becoming a kind of civilian assistant to Montalbano, for example, telephoning in tip-offs to the police that the inspector cannot be associated with.

There are the usual regular references to Sicilian food specialities. The inspector never seems to eat anything very plain and if it was not for his regular swimming you could imagine him becoming very overweight. The changes in his personal relationship with Livia from the previous novel 'The Snack Thief' (1996) are not followed up and indeed the 'happy family' expectation of that novel is terminated by François insisting he remains with the family he was fostered with for his own security especially in seeing the boys he is fostered with as his own brothers. I had thought that story line to be an unlikely one, but it also seems very brusque to abandon it this way. There are hints that Montalbano is going to have an affair with Anna, a friend of Michela's living nearby. It does not develop far in this novel and it will have to be seen if it is taken further or not. Montalbano has proven in earlier novels that he can have a platonic relationship even with a beautiful woman. 

Overall, despite this difficulties, the novel is one of the better ones in the series through keeping to a proper detective story rather than going off down more outré paths.

'Science Fiction,The Great Years' ed. by Carol and Frederik Polk

This is a collection published originally in 1973 (my edition is from 1977) which collected together seven US 'pulp' science fiction stories published 1934-53. As you progress through it you see that much of the criteria for selection has been due to the Polks knowing the authors personally and in one case one, 'Wings of the Lightning Land' was written by James MacCreigh, a pseudonym of Frederik Polk himself. With this collection I did note as I did with 'The World of Null-A' (1940) by A.E. Vogt which I read in October https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2025/10/the-books-i-read-in-october.html things that to a science fiction reader in the mid-20th Century would have seemed exciting or thought provoking, now can have a tendency to seem old hat as the points they revolved around have become so assimilated into Western culture in the meantime.

I first started reading this book in 1983 but abandoned it part way through the first story. This is '... And Then There Were None' published in 1951 by Eric Frank Russell is the longest in the book and I can see why I soon tired of it. It is very off-putting, because at 72 pages it is too long, but above all it is painfully smug. A diplomatic spaceship from Earth's extensive empire lands on a colonised planet which has had no visits from the rest of human space in 300 years. They try to find a leader even at a local level to talk to about the planet but keep running up against smug non-compliance from the population. It slowly and painfully transpires after a lot of these irritating encounters that the people feel they follow the teachings of Mahatma Gandhi and thus keep harping on 'I won't' and 'mind your own business', which they believe is an essence of Gandhi's viewpoint. This seems a typically American perspective. 

They settlers have also adopted what we now call a 'gift economy' and as it is used at some local levels nowadays it is not as unusual to the reader as it would in 1951. The American angle comes through them being called 'obs' from 'obligations' which can be 'put' on to people and then shifted from person to person before someone 'kills' them. The self-righteousness of the settlers gets tedious very quickly and the apparent 'twist' of many of the crew deserting the ship to remain on the planet is no surprise. All of this is laid on so heavily, you can see how poorly Russell thought of his readers.

'The Liberation of Earth' (1953) by William Tenn, a pseudonym for an academic of the time, is much crisper and I feel better shows what good science fiction short stories can do. It is narrated by a survivor living on an Earth whose very shape has been distorted by repeated invasions by two warring sides in an alien war. They have used Earth as a base for this conflict with no concern for the impact on the humans (and presumably animals and plants) that live on it, harmed by the constructions and the by-products of their weapons. As well as distorting Earth a lot of its air and water are used up or contaminated. As the Polks comment in the introduction, in the early 1970s it would have been seen as a critique of the Vietnam War but it is easy to see how Tenn thought it up in the context of the legacy of colonialism which was very apparent in the mid-1950s. The portrayal of the alien invasions as different 'liberations', even from the humans' perspective, is a nice touch.

'Old Faithful' (1934) by Raymond Z. Gallun is primarily written from the perspective of an inhabitant of Mars, 774, looking down on Earth and developing signalling with an astronomer there. Condemned to have his life ended to conserve resources on Mars 774 boldly piggy backs on a comet passing close to both Mars and Earth to reach his correspondent. It is nice to see aliens not bent on invasion and colonisation, but like many humans, having an interest in knowing more about their solar system. Gallun does very well in envisaging an alien life form which, for example, does not hear but simply feels vibrations. It is also unlike much on Earth except large worms and this does seem to be a bit of a trend of portraying the alien in science fiction of the time. I guess a worm is also seen as inherently non-threatening. It is a sweet story about the character's endeavours and its hope for its own single offspring. Ironically exploration on Mars in the 21st Century suggests Gallun's portrayal of water on the planet might not have been far from the truth though back many millions of years before humans appeared on Earth.

'Placet is a Crazy Place' (1946) by Frederic Brown has an interesting context. It features a planet that loops around in a binary star system. Light slows down as a result to on the passage people on the planet can see a spectral projection of the planet effectively coming towards them which naturally causes concern. It is also a romance in that the protagonist resigns from his post only to find that a woman he has long been attracted to is just arriving at the base. It is quite a light story but interesting for the astronomical situation it explores.

'Wings of the Lightning Land' (1941) by James MacCreigh [Frederik Polk] is quite a straight forward space adventure when two explorers from a base on the Moon are transported across the universe to an alien planet where they manage to sort out what is going wrong with the deserted city they find there. The jeopardy seems genuine because we have no sense of whether either of them will survive. Added to that the female narrator suffers from hypothyroidism, known as 'cretinism' at the time the story was written which if unmedicated leads to severe decline in the sufferer's mental condition so that they become unable to cope with complex thinking and communication. Perhaps many light years from her medication, the narrator has a deadline to try to get home before her condition overwhelms her. It is still not that common to see disabled people in science fiction and as a Type 1 diabetic reliant on late 20th Century medication to keep me from suffering a painful death as a matter of course, it is something that always come to mind when I read time travel stories or indeed being stranded somewhere remote whether on Earth or elsewhere. The story is pretty good if rather disjointed at times.

'The Little Black Bag' (1950) by C.M. Kornbluth is a time travel story but only a medical kit from the future is sent back to mid-20th Century USA and helps out an alcoholic doctor due to its easy-to-use very advanced equipment. While it allows him to get back into practice and help out numerous people with a variety of conditions, this being the US health system he is soon pushed into doing cosmetic surgery in order to secure large fees to keep his assistant who is blackmailing him, happy. In that way it reminded me of something like an episode from 'The Twilight Zone' (broadcast 1959-64) or 'Tales of the Unexpected' (broadcast 1979-88). Like the best short stories it handily explores a moral issue bisecting with human nature and has a decent twist.

'A Matter of Form' (1938) by H.L. Gold is a bit of a body shock story. It is set in New York of the time where three bodies of catatonic tramps have been found with signs of recent surgery on them. While at times we see from the point of view of a journalist working on this story and his editor, the main protagonist is a down-and-out college graduate called Wood. He is inveigled into a scheme which turns out to be producing the catatonic men as a result of exchanging consciousnesses between animals and humans with the goal of moving those of ailing wealthy people into younger human bodies. Wood soon finds himself in the body of a collie. Much of the story is an adventure about how he escapes the vivisectionists and with his limited canine abilities draws the attention of the newspapermen to the scandal. Naturally we now think of 'Fluke' (1977) by James Herbert or scenes in 'Mars Attacks' (1996). Perhaps we can also see it in line with 'The Monster of Lake LaMetrie' (1899) by Wardon Allan Curtis which features a full brain transplant or .'The Metamorphosis' (1915) by Franz Kafka which looks at such a situation more from psychological rather surgical aspect. Overall, 'A Matter of Form' is an engaging story on topics of how we might communicate as a dog as well as an adventure of Wood being shot at and chased across New York by the surgeon's gangster associates.

Non-Fiction

'The Secret State. Whitehall and the Cold War' by Peter Hennessy

This book published in 2002 has what I am now seeing as the classic Hennessy style. It is very rhetorical as you would expect from a lecture or a radio programme of the kind Hennessy is well known for. There are personal reminiscences mixed in with numerous asides and quotes from people who were at the heart of the matter being covered. While this also went for 'Whitehall' (1988) and 'Never Again' (1993) both of which I read this year, the rhetorical style is probably more the case with this one as it was founded on four lectures that Hennessy gave. It covers the period that Hennessy refers to as the 'high' Cold War which he sees running 1947-69. In part this is to do with when government documents became available.

The UK adopted the 20-year rule in 2013, so from 1968 when the rule was shortened from 50 years, historians had to wait 30 years to see official documents in the archives. Consequently, in 2002 only those from before 1971 would be available. As it is certain documents are kept closed for longer, up to a maximum of 100 years, including ones concerning atomic and nuclear issues. However, a sub-theme of this book is how Hennessy, his assistants and a set of his students were able to reconstruct a lot of discussions and policies from the documents which were available. Some of these are replicated at length in the book.

The four main themes. First how the British assessed the risk of incidents, perhaps even war, with the USSR in the post-war period. Second the difficult development of a British nuclear deterrent and keeping it up to date as nuclear weaponry quickly evolved going from single aircraft dropped atomic bombs in 1945 to inter-continental ballistic missiles carrying thermonuclear warheads by 1957. Third how especially in the wake of the detection of Fuchs in 1950 and the defections of Burgess and Maclean the following year, steps were taken to filter out traitors from becoming part of the Whitehall 'machine'.

The fourth theme builds on the second and looks at assessments of what the impact would be on the UK if a nuclear war broke out and preparations that could be made. This leads into the final section focused on 'Turnstile' the secret underground base in the Cotswolds to which the rump of UK central government would have retreated. Another coup of Hennessy's was that he and two assistants were permitted to visit the base and take some photos. The book ends with a philosophical discussion of unleashing a nuclear holocaust and the revelation that the continued existence of the UK is indicated officially by the broadcasting of the 'Today' programme on Radio 4 at least once in a week.

This is a brisk but well informed book which, as I have noted before, is perhaps best for a general reader wanting to engage with these topics rather than a scholarly one. It is a shame given that in 2013 official documents dating from 1992 and before were opened, so covering the end of the Cold War, that a follow-up book has not been produced showing how the UK government dealt with things like detente, the invasion of Afghanistan, Reagan's alternating 'evil empire' and then peace talks phases plus the collapse of the Soviet Union. Maybe somewhere one of Hennessy's assistants or former students is working on it, given how infirm Lord Hennessy is now.