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.

The Books I Read In November

 Fiction

'No Time Like The Past' by Jodi Taylor

This is the fifth book in the main Chronicles of St. Mary's. After the literal battle for the institution in the previous book 'A Trail Through Time' (2019) https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2025/09/the-books-i-read-in-september.html the ongoing story settles down a little to the normal pattern. Funding issues means that the historians go back to the Great Fire of London in 1666 to loot valuables that can then be fortunately be 'discovered' by their employers, Thirsk University. However, as is typical in these stories things go wrong. There is always a jarring of tone in these books between the light and jolly and the grave outcomes. This time sees the murder of one of the historians and the finding of this in a gruesome way plus the ending of the only lesbian couple so far featured. There is also a visit to the Battle of Thermopylae in 480 BCE which almost leads to history being altered significantly. In contrast there is an open day at the institute, again aimed at raising money and despite the humour it is undercut by the grim turn of events. However, at the end of the book, Max marries her long term boyfriend (or at least a version of the one she first dated), Chief Technician Leon Farrell.

In many ways I enjoy these books. The portrayal of all the different times and places they visit is very well done and shows a lot of research that is to be admired. While Taylor feels obliged to make things go wrong this sometimes lead to a light tone but then one that is whacked by the tragedy which she seems compelled to bring in. I guess it is good that we can feel a genuine sense of jeopardy for the regular characters, after all the heroine and her lover have already both been killed in the first four books, but it does mean as a reader you have to be ready for abrupt tonal shifts. After a tragedy it is quickly 'business as usual'. At least by this book, Max, who has a doctorate, is shown clearly a mature adult rather than at times in the first couple of books in which at times she came over as a teenager. I have more of these books to read and feel I am now girded sufficiently to cope with the sharp highs and lows of them while enjoying the trips into the past which are the best rendered elements of the series.

'Jerusalem: Kingdom of Heaven' by Richard Foreman

This is the final book of Foreman's First Crusade trilogy and it is a bit better than the preceding two. I cannot remember spotting the kind of anachronistic howlers of those books. There is still a lot of abrupt jumping around in terms of the point of view, though perhaps somewhat less than earlier too. Foreman is a writer in a hurry and whereas he could have explored what happened to the crusade between Antioch and Jerusalem we only get this reported in a letter from Thomas the interpreter, now rather ineffectual knight. In some ways Foreman plays to his strengths and the siege and especially the assault of the city are where his writing is best. The main protagonist, Edward Kemp, also has a mission to 'recover' or effectively loot treasures which had been taken from a wealthy Jewish man who wants them restored, though this is mainly seen as Kemp and his friends setting themselves up to return home after the crusade is finished.

Overall, Foreman gives a fair portrayal of the warfare of the time and of 11th Century Jerusalem. However, all these books needed some serious editing especially in terms of anachronism and points of view. In addition, the whole trilogy has felt terribly rushed. The three books could have been a single volume and more time could have been taken in exploring the setting. The characters are acceptable and we can comprehend their motives, but at the end, aside from descriptions of battles you are rather left dissatisfied. I now do wonder if these were three short stories that he decided to work up into (short) book length. What I have read in this series, though not the worst novels set in the First Crusade, do not encourage me to buy other books by Foreman.

If you are interested in a story set in this time and place, I would recommend 'Knight with Armour' (1959) by Alfred Duggan. While, given when it was published, it does not have the sexual content of Foreman's books, it provides a better written and more rounded out story of the First Crusade's progress.

'The Snack Thief' by Andrea Camilleri

This is the third book in the Montalbano series and it works better than the preceding one, 'The Terracotta Dog' (1996) which I read last month https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2025/10/the-books-i-read-in-october.html Whereas that went off into a kind of archaeological mystery this one sticks more closely to a standard police procedural story and is better for it. There are two cases, the shooting dead of a Tunisian working on a Sicilian fishing boat and the stabbing to death in a lift of a retired businessman. Naturally it turns out that in fact the two murders are connected. First of all Montalbano must track down the lover of the businessman, Kamira, who has disappeared with her son François. Steadily he uncovers that she had been prostituting herself to a number of middle aged businessmen especially those with sexual peccadilloes as well as acting as their cleaner.

Once he has uncovered the identity of the dead Tunisian sailor, he is drawn into the affairs of the secret services of both Italy and Tunisia. Camilleri works well in constantly shifting both the protagonist's and the reader's views on what is happening as satisfyingly Montalbano peels through the layers while also seeking to protect the innocent. In contrast his rebarbative manner means he acts as a bully putting witnesses whose behaviour he dislikes into difficult position as some kind of revenge. He does get called out for this. At times, the fractiousness with his colleagues seems rather forced but I suppose it is so we do not see him as an uncomplicated 'good guy' but at times this feels rather forced and rather counterbalances when he cleverly uses what resources he has to advance the case.

The other traits we have already seen in the inspector, his love of Sicilian specialities, his regular swimming, but also his consumption of cigarettes all come back here, the little elements that for so many fictional detectives are there to round out the character. At times his repeated eating of very particular meal after meal feels a little overdone and it is unsurprising that he is not more unhealthy than he portrayed. 

The snack thief by the way as I imagine readers will quickly identify, is François once he is left to fend for himself on the streets. The fact that Montalbano mundanely decrees his girlfriend from northern Italy, Livia should marry him and they adopt the boy seemed very artificial and might have been handled better than it seeming very much a plot device to end the very single lifestyle the detective has been living with Livia hundreds of miles away for much of the time. Still, I have more of these books to read and as yet, these aspects have not entirely put me off doing so.

'The Taexali Game' by Nancy Jardine

My next alternate history novel is set among Celtic tribes in the late 3rd Century CE, so when, aptly in an Aberdeen charity shop I saw this book, even though it is aimed at children, I thought it a good idea to pick it up. The Taexali were the Celtic tribe which lived along the coast of what is nowadays Aberdeenshire, with the better-known Caledonians occupying the mountains to the west of them. While attacked in 84 CE and 210 CE (as shown in this novel) and signing treaties with the Romans, being north of both Hadrian's Wall and then the Antonine Wall they largely were able to exist untroubled for much of the Roman period in Britain.

In this novel three 13-14 year olds, Aran and his friends, twins Brian and Fianna are sent back to 210 CE by the twins' biological father, Callum, under the pretence that they are testing out a new highly interactive VR game. In fact he and his colleagues have created a time machine. The children are connected to it by sophisticated metal armbands which allow them to be equipped with appropriate clothing and can translate the Brittonic and later Latin that they hear. It takes them quite a while to realise, largely due to the country smells, that they are not in a game. Saving the daughter of a local chief (the hierarchy between local chiefs and their overlords because important as the story progresses) they are quickly drawn into the life of the tribe based at the village of Balbath close to modern day Kintore.

The trio have to prove their value to the Celts who are suspicious of them as potential Roman spies, as Roman forces under Emperor Severus and his two vicious sons have been ravaging much of eastern 'Scotland' in an effort to subdue all the tribes living there as had already happened with Celtic tribes farther south. Having the three characters means we can see how the invasion and battles play out. Though I knew there was a sequel intended, there did seem to be jeopardy not simply for the protagonists but for the friends they have made, notably Seonagh the chief's daughter who is sent into slavery as part of the peace deal. It was nice to see teenagers drawing on skills that involve more than swiping on the phone and their lessons in Sooyang Do, a very popular martial art around Aberdeen and Brian's musical abilities help them out.

At times I was concerned that we were going to get an 'info dump' but some of this is in fact as the children themselves need to be brought up to speed. They are more assiduous in their studies than many their age, but I guess if they were bumbling around clueless as to what was going on and where they were it would be much tougher and slow up what is a fast moving novel even at 315 pages long. I certainly learnt stuff about the Celts that I did not know, which I suppose was one reason for me buying the book in the first place. While I do not know Kintore, I do know the mouths of the Rivers Dee and Don so it was interesting to have a book so linked to a specific area and how it was in the past.

'Gallows Thief' by Bernard Cornwell

I find the quality of Cornwell's books varies quite a bit, though I was optimistic about his as it is a stand-alone one and I had enjoyed 'Fools and Mortals' (2017) https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2022/04/books-i-read-in-april.html That book was effectively a detective story set around the theatre of Shakespeare's time. This book has a similar approach. Cornwell uses the story of detection to show us details of a particular time and activity. In this case it is around the criminal 'justice' system of England in 1817. The book opens with four executions in front of Newgate Prison where they had been moved from Tyburn, but they remained a public spectacle. The hanging was very inefficient with the convicted slowly strangled at the end of a rope, much to the entertainment of the crowd.

The protagonist is former Captain in the 52nd Foot, Rider Sandman. The fact that he fought at the Battle of Waterloo - he has subsequently sold his commission - and was a skilled cricket batsman opens a number of doors for him. His father was bankrupted by a scam investment leading to him committing suicide. This has left Sandman, let alone his mother and sister, in financial difficulties and having fallen through the social classes. That led to the breaking off of the engagement by his fiancée, Eleanor Forrest, though it is clear she still has affection for him, provides useful information and considers eloping with him.

Sandman scratches out a meagre living by playing cricket, but is increasingly alienated by the corruption in the game. He lives in an inn on Drury Lane, infamous for its criminal residents, though he is aided by a fellow resident Sally Hood, a part-time actress and sister to a highwayman. For a decent payment Sandman takes up a job as an Investigator for the Home Secretary who has been pressured to investigate a case against a young painter accused of raping and murdering the Countess of Avebury, because of a request from one of Queen Charlotte. This is a rare occurrence as it is felt throughout that anyone convicted in court must be guilty and any evidence to the contrary is seen as questioning the wisdom of judges. Cornwell is making a point about the legal system of England at the time when 200 offences, including simple theft, carried the death penalty, though as he makes clear in the notes at the end only around 10% of the condemned were executed, with the rest transported to Australia if someone notable petitioned on their behalf.

The book is very much a romp. It does remind us that the Regency period looked back to the 18th Century more than it looked forward to the later 19th Century. Cornwell does rather over-indulge in Austenesque/Hogarthian tropes. The book is jammed with 'flash' slang, i.e. the cant of the criminal classes, as if the author felt obliged to get in every term that he had come across. Every other character is a lord. There is a sordid club for well-to-do gentlemen, the Seraphim Club and a web of blackmail and scapegoating. In classic detective style Sandman has only 1 week to spare the accused, the young (closeted homosexual) Charles Corday from execution and hares not simply around London but off into Wiltshire and Kent leading to a charge to the gallows which is clichéd.

The book is fascinating in all its historical detail of English society and its behaviours, including cricket, of the time. It does move at a pace which I think helps it avoid feeling like a history text book. The characters are interesting, if at times a bit stereotyped, especially Sally and the loyal Sergeant Sam Berrigan. Perhaps I have seen the tropes too often and to another reader this will come over as a very different detective story, which does not spare the cruelty of post-Napoleonic Wars England and uses it effectively to create a knotty investigation and action story.

Non-Fiction

'Never Again: Britain 1945-51' by Peter Hennessy

I guess I had expected a bit different style for this more clearly history book than Hennessy used for 'Whitehall' (1989). However, it had a similar raconteur style, often very personal in nature, we learn quite a lot about Hennessy's home district of Walthamstow in this period. He goes between this very much 'people's history' approach often quoting from people who lived it to the world of high politics with a focus on ministers and leading civil servants and what they were doing so the story is seen from the two ends of society. In theory the book actually starts in 1938, but especially in terms of the development of the welfare state, Hennessy goes back well before the 20th Century to trace all the roots which led to what the Labour governments were able to introduce in this period.

Perhaps most effective are the chapters on the beginning of decolonisation and the Cold War. The one on sport and culture is interesting as it moves briskly through various facets and once more brings in personal recollections from the author about cricketers. The final chapter, assessment of mid-century Britain, could be read as a stand alone essay in its own right and very successfully brings together multiple threads in an analytical way which does contrast with the raconteur style of much of the book. As I said with 'Whitehall' this is book is actually presented in a way which would appeal very much to a general reader wanting a clear but welcoming guide to the period, rather than an academic text. I have three other, slightly newer books by Hennessy lined up to read and I wonder if that approach continues throughout as his career moved further from journalism deeper into academia.

'Discovering Heraldry' by R.H. Wilmott

This book is in the same series of non-fiction books for children that 'Discovering Castles'  (1953?/1960) which I read in 2018 is in: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2018/08/books-i-listened-toread-in-august.html?m=0 This one was first published in 1964 and has that straight forward line drawing illustrated text that I find very nostalgic. I got this one in the 1980s from a school library sale. It is a handy introduction to the rules of heraldry, with, given the time it was published, a nice enthusiasm for the municipal and commercial heraldry of the era. Its illustrations do well in a monochrome book to show the colours used in the various coats of arms. It builds up all the different elements so that by the end you can describe a whole series of arms in the proper technical language. Perhaps for me the most fascinating is the arms of Sir Isaac Newton, two crossed human bones, I think thigh bones, making him look a little like a pirate rather than a scientist and Bible analyst. Jane Austen rather strangely had three single lion's legs on her crest.

While the author did not seem to know that the heraldic term for a gold disc perhaps resembling a gold coin, i.e. 'bezant' actually comes from a genuine medieval gold coin. Bezants, perhaps unsurprisingly were minted in the Byzantine Empire, but the term spread more widely for gold coins of different origins especially in the Eastern Mediterranean region. I did learn what an 'enfield' is. It is one of the lesser-known mythical creatures which feature in heraldry, having the head of a fox, the chest of an elephant, the mane of a horse, front legs from an eagle, rear legs from a greyhound and the tail of a lion! It does sound rather like something produced by Frankenstein or Dr. Moreau and I can understand why it is not pictured. However, overall this is a nice gentler book without the horros of 'Discovering Castles' with a suggestion of activities you might do connected with heraldry, many of which apply today, though I imagine most churches would not allow you to brass rub now.

The Books I Read In October

Fiction

'The Terracotta Dog' by Andrea Camilleri

Rather like the Rebus books of Ian Rankin, with these Inspector Salvo Montalbano novels, you do feel as if the life of the main character is trundling on when a book is not looking at it and what we get is a kind of 'slice of life' of the character. This is only the second book in the Montalbano series, but his background and connections are so extensive that you feel as if you have come late to his story. As I noted with the 'Shape of Water' (1994) which I read in August https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2025/08/the-books-i-read-in-august.html it is difficult to know where Camilleri is going to go next with his novel. In some ways that is refreshing but at times it is rather bewildering.

This novel opens with Montalbano being asked to fake a raid to arrest a mafia leader who wants to retire from the crime business. This leads to the uncovering of a cave used for the storing of weaponry and then a conspiracy involving supermarket deliveries in order to move these weapons. You would think that this provides sufficient 'meat' for a detective novel. However, even with the mounting murders the ending of this business results in, he goes off down a very different part. At the rear of the cave proves a second previously sealed cave in which are the skeletons of a man and a woman, dating back to the mid-1940s, a collection of coins, a jug which held water and a terracotta dog. Much of the novel is about Montalbano working with elderly people in his area and further afield to find out who this young couple were and the circumstances of their killing. This he does, but it means that the novel is more a historical mystery story rather than a crime novel.

I suppose Camilleri was concerned that his books would simply become about mafia murders. Anyone who has read books by Leonardo Sciascia (another Sicilian author) and Michael Dibdin, knows that even in fiction these crimes are largely insoluble. Thus instead, given his focus on the Sicilian locale he features elements from its modern history in which the murders are apparently as commonplace as rainfall. It does allow him to poke at both the media and the lingering Fascist sympathisers which in his context seem to be surprisingly active, though divided and whinging. This is not a bad story but I felt that the connection from a clearly crime aspect to the historical one made it feel rather strung out and as if the protagonist is so reconciled to murder that current crimes feature little in his mind compared to a mystery from the past.

'The World of Null-A' by A.E. Vogt

It is not unusual to find mid-20th Century science fiction having a real philosophical element to it. This book published in 1940 to great success goes fully onboard with that, envisaging a world society some 500 years into the future which has adopted a totally non-Aristotlean approach to life, the Null-A of the title. This leads it, especially in its colony on terraformed Venus, to have a peaceful society, but one which in this novel is under threat from a wider galactic federation especially those belonging to the eponymous Greatest Empire. The protagonist Gilbert Gosseyn turns out to have two brains though one has not yet been fully activated. It is later revealed that he has been cloned more than once and this explains some of the inconsistencies in his memories, an aspect which reminded me of  'Voice of the Whirlwind' (1987) by Walter Jon Williams who I can easily imagine had read this book. 

Gosseyn becomes wrapped up in a conspiracy to invade Venus and to overthrow the government of Earth. The trouble is, he flicks back and forth between Earth and Venus so much and the small cast of characters are never what they seemed five minutes ago, the whole book gets rather in a knot. The final element about who is the 'puppetmaster' behind either the plot or trying to prevent it, is better handled. However, between the philosophising and the constant twists, after a while despite it being a short book (221 pages in my edition) you are glad when it comes to an end. I have read quite a lot of science fiction from the era, but this one tries rather too hard.

'Besieged' by Richard Foreman

This book leads straight on from 'Siege' (2019) which I read last month: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2025/09/the-books-i-read-in-september.html It is only 146 pages long and you feel that these two books could have been combined into a single novel, indeed the who trilogy might have been better off that way. Foreman gallops along in his writing and while the pace is appreciated, taking time on a number of occasions would have benefited the novel.

The forces of the First Crusade have captured the Syrian (now Turkish) city of Antioch but find themselves in turn besieged by the armies of Atabeg Kerbogha of Mosul. The story features many of the same characters from the previous novel and unsurprisingly our two English protagonists Edward Kemp the knight and Thomas the interpreter are at the heart of the various incidents as the siege leads to suffering, the head of the Holy Lance is discovered and the Crusaders successfully sally out.

There are good bits to this novel. Foreman portrays the final battle well. He is also decent in terms of the different leaders of the Crusade, notably Bishop Adhemar. He is not as good in portraying the Turkish side even though as with the Crusaders, the forces were a confederation with different commanders working together under what turns out to be the nominal leadership of Kerboga, an important element in the final battle. Foreman could have done a really interesting 'balancing act' showing that despite their differences the two forces actually faced very similar challenges in particular that they were confederations holding in a range of large egos.

As with the previous book, you feel that with just a little more effort this could have been a good book. A decent editor would certainly have helped. We can excuse the odd typo, even the greatest authors suffer them. However, there are two flaws in the fibre of the book. The first is the jumping in point of view. It is a challenge when writing books with sprawling events, but it can be handled. Yet on some pages we actually have the point of view going through the eyes of multiple characters in the length of a single page. There could have been an all-seeing narrator, but Foreman has instead chosen to keep a more intimate perspective via the characters, yet the way he leaps from one to the other so quickly leaves the reader's head spinning and a sense that engagement with the characters is superficial. 

There is also some inconsistency with Kerbogha, he is portrayed as a skilled chess player but then abruptly as a foolish, reckless commander. The extended references to chess make this dichotomy come out very sharply. A chance is missed. Kerbogha had a victory 'on a plate' but poor judgement as earlier at Edessa throws it away and this could have been a real point of dramatic tension but the chance is wasted.

Foreman continues to use anachronistic metaphors. Twice someone's expression 'sets like concrete'. I know the Romans had concrete but it was long gone by the 11th Century. Saying that someone looks like 'death warmed up' really jars when at other times he goes to so much effort to conjure up the culture and lifestyles of the time. These things could easily have been corrected and would have really strengthened the book. I will read the third book in the series, but do feel this trilogy was a wasted opportunity.

'She Died A Lady' by Carter Dickson [John Dickson Carr]

Though my edition of this book is not from the British Library Classic Crime collection, I do have another by Carr in that set. In a number of ways this book, published in 1943 reminded me of 'The Cornish Coast Murder' (1935) by John Bude which I read in December: https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2024/12/the-books-i-read-in-december.html This novel is set in 1940 on the North coast of Devon - which borders Cornwall - close to the genuine towns of Lynton and Lynmouth. This mystery also involves death on a cliff top. There are good descriptions of the locale and use is made of abandoned properties around the village as is typical of English moor regions.

Though in theory this is a Sir Henry Merrivale investigation, the narrator for much of the book is Dr. Luke Croxley, who with his son, Tom, act as GPs to the village and residents of nearby Exmoor. However, in tone this book is very different. That tone is very erratic as I explain later.

Rita Wainwright at 38 is married to an older husband, Alec in his 60s but has fallen for a young American part-time actor, Barry Sullivan. While Croxley is with Alec, listening to the radio, it appears Rita and Barry have thrown themselves off the cliff in a suicide pact. Of course, as if common with such cases in fact it is a murder and it is down to an assortment of characters, including Merrivale to work out what actually happened. 

In contrast to the typical set-up in these novels, however, the leading police officer, Superintendent Craft will not give way on the suicide theory. Indeed he believes that Croxley removed a pistol from the cliff edge and later that he sunk a car in quicksand on the edge of Exmoor. Craft is so committed to this perspective that he threatens Croxley with a charge of perjury unless her 'admits' to his interfering with the investigation at the forthcoming inquest. This brings a rather Kafkaesque element to the novel.

Ultimately Croxley is unable to attend the inquest, but the finding of suicide and his interference in the case are upheld. Thus, though the reader knows the truth of what happened and who the murderer actually was, officially Craft's story is the one which stands. The subsequent events may be seen as some kind of 'natural' justice, though one reason Croxley's account of the affair is unfinished is that he was killed in a bombing raid, dying still with Craft's black mark against his character unchallenged.

The actual murder has all the classic 'impossible' elements typical of these stories of how the the couple ended up being shot even though there is only a single set of footprints on the cliff edge. Their bodies are later recovered and then some of their luggage, muddying the waters around whether they intended to kill themselves or run away. Further complications arise when the wealth of diamonds are found at the Wainwrights' house rather than having been removed. These are handled cleverly and pretty feasibly which then is even more riling when the 'truth' does not come to light. 

Then we have Sir Henry Merrivale. As some reviewers have commented is a very irritating character, at times a buffoon. In this story for much he is confined to a motorised wheelchair which at various stages he crashes through a pub and almost off the edge of the same cliff. At stages he is dressed as a Roman senator for a portrait being painted by a local artist he is staying with, Paul Ferrars who is accused of the murders himself. Merrivale's slapstick behaviour, his bizarre 'chummy' language really jar with what is a stark crime story with unco-operative authorities set against the background of war. In addition, though he actually solves the mystery he contributes his views far too late to be of any real benefit. It also turns out that unlike Croxley, he has been interfering with the evidence for his own reasons.

Overall, this book is an oddity. The elements while interesting do not really fit together very well. The dogmatism of the police, far beyond what is typical, to the extent of distorting the investigation is a distinctive element as is the fact that the truth of the case is not revealed until after it no longer matters. Dickson Carr clearly loved the Merrivale character and may have seen his presence as a counter-balance to what is in fact a bleak rather than 'cosy' crime novel. He may have felt it necessary in wartime to have an element to lighten the tone at times. However, this does not really work and in fact weakens the novel which could have been much stronger in looking at the challenges of dealing with dogmatic authority especially when its opinions mean concealing rather than revealing the truth.

Non-Fiction

'Whitehall' by Peter Hennessy

This is one of these non-fiction books I have had sitting around for years which I should have read closer to when they were published, in this case 1989. At 851 pages in my edition (including references) it is an extensive book on the British civil service. In fact it is like a sequence of books as the sections are quite different from each other. There is a history of the (English then British) civil service from the 12th Century up until 1979 when Margaret Thatcher became prime minister and initiated a period of notable change, though the ultimate outcome, the Next Steps agencies, though hinted at in her time, were to come subsequently. 

Before becoming an academic Hennessy was a journalist and that experience really shapes especially the first part of the book. It is told very much through the people involved rather than the actual machinery, though that does feature. The history is not strictly chronological and especially in the period when Hennessy was active in newspapers (he was born in 1947) there is a lot of personal reminiscences from him. Throughout the book, indeed, much material is derived from his personal interviews with leading civil servants. The journalist protecting his sources is also very apparent with the references to 'private information', something unusual for an academic history book. 

While the section on the various departments as they stood in the late 1980s does have a reference book feel to it, when he then returns to what Thatcher began and the future, as with many other sections, they are more like having a chat with Hennessy as he recalls incidents he or his interviewees witnessed, so it is better to read it the way I did for leisure, rather than rely on it as a book to refer to for academic study as you will often have to unthread lengthy recounting to get a particular date or fact you are seeking. Hennessy's prescriptions for an effective civil service are quite apparent throughout. I guess this very knowledgeable but personal touch is why his Radio 4 political retrospective programme (broadcast 2013-19), 'Reflections with Peter Hennessy'  https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b04fd8md/episodes/player?page=3 worked so well.

This book is ideal for anyone with a general interest in the British civil service, 1853-1989, especially in the people both on the official and ministerial sides, and the challenges they faced. It is challenging to use as a reference book, but is an engaging general non-fiction read.

'Portraits of Power' collated by Jeremy Murray-Brown

This is another book I have had lying around for many years. It was given to me as a present in 1979. It is a collection of biographies written by journalists for 'The New York Times' about famous men (and Elizabeth II) of the mid-20th Century with a particular focus on the ways in which they wielded power. It does have a very US perspective even from the timeframe which they feel defines the era, i.e. from 1914 to 1975 as they see the end of US involvement in Vietnam as marking a significant break, not something I think people in other countries would agree with. In addition, 4 of the 19 people featured are US Presidents: Franklin Roosevelt, Harry Truman, Dwight Eisenhower and John F. Kennedy, though it is welcome that they acknowledge the short period Kennedy was in office, puncture some of the myths around him and show how he was unlikely to have done much different to Lyndon Johnson, except with less speed and with a diffidence.

The focus on power is an interesting one and makes the sections refreshing compared to typical short biographies. Details are really only included when they allow a reflection on the power aspect rather than slogging through year by year. There are men featured who while important in their time and still with that lingering in some cases through the 1970s would generally be forgotten about these days, notably, Konrad Adenauer, long-time Chancellor of West Germany; Josip Tito leader of Yugoslavia from the 1940s to 1980; Colonel Gamal Abdel Nasser, leader of Egypt, short-lived but with global impact; David Ben-Gurion one of the founders of Israel and Mohammed Reza Pahlavi, the last Shah of Iran. 

The others featured are Hitler, Churchill, Mohandras 'Mahatma' Gandhi, Stalin, Emperor Hirohito, General Franco, General Charles De Gaulle, Nikita Khrushchev and Mao Zedong. I am rather surprised Fidel Castro is not included, given his impact was at least as great as Nasser's. In addition there is a real lack of women. I would have expected a chapter on Indira Gandhi, if not Sirimavo Bandaranaike as well; perhaps both Eva and Colonel Juan Perón in terms of how each wielded power. However, these gaps and the apparent need to include Elizabeth II may reflect the US perspective and the fact that Cuba remained a sensitive issue there.

There are interesting nuggets in this book and photographs that I was not familiar with. The focus on the different ways power is wielded is an engaging, refreshing one and does lead to portrayals of some of these people which differ from the 'mainstream' potted biographies that you find online or in typical TV programmes.

The Books I Read In September

 Fiction

'The Secret of High Eldersham' by Miles Burton [Cecil Street]

Being published 1916 onwards, Street wrote over 140 novels in his career (he lived until he was 80) and apparently so that it did not look like he was flooding the market, he used a range of pseudonyms, one of which was Miles Burton. This novel, another in the British Library Crime Classics series, his second featuring Inspector Young of Scotland Yard and an amateur detective, Desmond Merrion. This combination of professional and amateur reminded me of the John Bude novels I have read recently, to the extent that, unprompted, Google's AI told me that it was written by Bude, even though it was published in 1930 and Street was far more prolific than Ernest Elmore. Burton also features a stoic manservant for both Merrion and one for his old friend too, reminiscent of Magersfontein Lugg in the Campion novels (1929-68).

The story is set around High Eldersham a remote village on the Norfolk coastline which is well portrayed. It reminded me, perhaps unsurprisingly, of Ronald Blythe's oral history book, 'Akenfield' (1969) which I read last year:  https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2024/09/the-books-i-read-in-september.html These days the context fora crime novel of a small village where there are crimes and folk horror - witchcraft rituals are involved in this story - has almost become a cliche, but was probably fresher when the book was written, almost a century ago. The pub landlord, a former police sergeant, is found stabbed efficiently to death in his pub and Young is sent to investigate and uncovers occult practices. Finding it difficult to penetrate the closed community of High Eldersham he calls on the services of his friend Merrion, who seems typical of amateur detectives of the time, in being free to gallivant around with little need for employment.

I think the modern reader would see what is going on sooner than perhaps one from the 1930s would. We are more familiar with drug smuggling and dealing perhaps than they would be. This does tend to make the two protagonists seem a little slow on the uptake. However, the two intertwined threads are well handled. There is good use of the locale and much activity on the river and shoreline, that at times reminded me of 'The Riddle of the Sands' (1903) by Erskine Childers. Burton is good at making it hard to determine the reliability of the people Merrion interacts with and this is what lifts it from what nowadays might seem a rather overly-familiar set-up. It was an enjoyable read, though as a reader in the 2020s, perhaps a bit more predictable than for readers of its time.

'A Trail Through Time' by Jodi Taylor

This is the fourth book in the St. Mary's Chronicles series, though that has rather been muddied by subsequent 0.5 and 2.5 books in the series which I do not have. This one picks up very shortly after the preceding one, 'A Second Chance' (2014) https://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2024/04/the-books-i-read-in-april.html In that the protagonist Dr. Madeleine Maxwell's lover, Chief Technician Leon Farrell was killed. She travelled back to the Battle of Agincourt in 1415 where she received a fatal chest wound. However in an explicit dea ex machina, Clio the Muse of History, in the form of Mrs. Partridge shifts her into an alternate reality where it was Maxwell who died rather than Farrell. At the start of this book they are dealing with this change when the Time Police from a different series of Taylor's novels, burst in, presumably because switching timelines is an anomaly. They then pursue Maxwell and Farrell to various times and locations. Ultimately they are caught at this world's version of St. Mary's College, where some things are the same but some are different, and people find it hard to accept Maxwell's 'resurrection'. There is then a bloody battle with the Time Police.

Taylor's books certainly 'jump the shark' on occasion and I did feel that she felt she had backed herself into a corner with the previous book, so almost had to sweep the board clean and start again in this parallel universe. It is also a bit confusing because you can now read books by Taylor seen through the eyes of the Time Police as I did back in April 2024, with 'Doing Time' (2019) which portrays them more sympathetically than the fascistic, violent portrayal in this book written five years earlier.

I have previously commented how there is a degree of ambivalence in Taylor's books, though in some ways I feel this gives a 'tweeness' which probably helps explain their popularity. Though St. Mary's has time machines a lot of its equipment, and indeed the behaviour of the staff, seem stuck in a nebulous mid-20th Century situation. In this way it is reminiscent of the Harry Potter books in making supposedly contemporary Britain actually look more like something from the 1950s-70s and with that kind of upper middle class perspective seen in boarding school books rather than reflecting broader British society even in that time period. This ambivalence has extended to Maxwell herself, who though having a doctorate, comes across almost like someone in their late teens. This is addressed a bit better in this novel notably between the passionate sex between Madeleine and Leon at the end.

I do not know the motivation behind this kind of ambivalence, I do wonder if it is to take the 'edge' off some of the horrors that the characters witness. Leading characters are killed but the places and times they visit also have their bleakness. A brief trip to 14th Century London leaves Maxwell having to treat a colleague who has almost immediately been mugged and caught the Black Death. Taylor does not hold back in the details of the disease or the treatment. I know she sets the St. Mary's characters as generally lovable, bumbling 'disaster magnets', but after a while just how often things go wrong becomes tiresome. There is enough jeopardy in where they travel let alone oppression in their own time, without adding all this on. It is particularly notable when Maxwell and Farrell are on the run through different times in the first half of the book. You feel like saying 'enough already'. The 'jauntiness' of the narration, combined with the tweeness of the contextualisation does knock hard against the grimness.

As before, the strength of the novels is in the portrayal of the different times and places in the past with all their bleakness. With this novel you do want the characters to stop for longer as Taylor is excellent at bringing out Ancient Egypt in the 1530s BCE, Pompeii at the eruption of Mount Vesuvius and the aforementioned Black Death London. I do wonder if she thinks readers will tire too much of these, and perhaps as someone who taught history I am more interested in these elements than others, but they are a real strength in Taylor's writing and it would be fascinating to see what she could do with a 'straight' historical novel. I still have a number of these St. Mary's books to get through. I did feel with this one, that despite some flaws, the storytelling is settling town a bit more in its 'tone'.

'Siege' by Richard Foreman

This seems to be, not the US playwright who died this year, but the Richard Foreman one who wrote historical series such as Sword of Empire, Sword of Rome and Spies of Rome but I cannot find reference to this The First Crusade trilogy on that author's websites. This book published in 2019 is 156 pages long in my edition so feels more like a novella than a full length novel. It follows two Englishmen, Edward Kemp, a man-at-arms, though with high status among the crusader nobles despite his humble background and sometimes godless attitude. There is also Thomas a priest and translator working for Prince Bohemond of Taranto.

It is set in 1098 outside the walls of Antioch in Syria where the First Crusade was held up for six months besieging the huge, well defended city until a traitor allowed them access just before an army led by Kerbogha of Mosul fell upon the besiegers. The protagonists get involved in the betrayal and then the storming of the city by the crusaders. 

Foreman is good at portraying the tension between the different factions in the crusader army especially between Bohemond and Count Raymond of Toulouse. However, the prime problem is how the book flits between different points of view, not only of the two main characters, but these nobles and others, Bishop Adhemar and even characters back in Constantinople, often jumping between different perspectives on a single page. This is something that beginning writers are warned against. It does not help with the clarity of the storytelling at all.

Yes 'touché' meaning 'touched' is a word in French from the 13th Century onwards coming into English. However, its use as Foreman shows it, like a response when a fencer is hit by the tip of their opponent's sword, especially when it is only a verbal 'joust' dates from the late 19th Century. So many cliches turn up in the book, sometimes two in a single sentence. You are constantly jarred by things which sound to come from our time rather than the 11th Century and this constantly weakens Foreman's portrayal of the time. At least unlike some authors of war stories set in the Middle Ages, Foreman does feature female characters. However, overall, the book really feels like it needed a decent developmental editor, to stop the almost random jumping between points of view and to encourage the author to find more effective terms than anachronistic ones or a string of cliches.

Non-Fiction

'The Napoleonic Source Book' by Philip J. Haythornthwaite

This book does what it says on the title. It provides a general chronology of the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars, looks at the methods of fighting on land and sea, then goes through all the different states involved including down to the tiny Italian and German ones, providing details of their armies and notably their uniforms. There is then biographies of the leaders and key generals of the conflicts. There is an interesting section on sources about the wars available when the book was published in 1990, but also including visual sources which is something I have not seen before. There is also a glossary of terms. I imagine, especially given all the details about the uniforms that it was intended as something for wargamers to use and develop their model soldiers and scenarios for them to fight. It moves along briskly, though if you read it right through there are naturally points of repetition. However, it is good for drawing attention to 'forgotten' aspects of the conflict and notably for challenging accepted denigration or hagiography of those involved in the wars.