Books in November
Another good month for reading!
“Soot and Steel: Dark Tales of London” is a collection of short stories set in London, focusing either on dark fantasy/horror or bleak lives in the city. Seven of the tales are reprints dating from between 1851 and 1922, while the rest are original to this anthology. As with any such volume, each reader will prefer some stories to others, but the overall quality of the tales is quite high in this group. My favourite in the whole book, “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle” by Juliet E. McKenna, is the most upbeat of the lot (I won’t give away the delightful ending); I also much enjoyed “Queen Rat” by David Rix, about a mudlark and a sewer rat encountering treasure in the ancient sewers of London, sewers about to be disrupted by the advent of the Tube and better sewage systems; “The Ghost of Cock Lane” by Rose Biggin, in which Dr. Samuel Johnson sorts out a death, a haunting and a threatened hanging; and 1919’s “A Romance of the Piccadilly Tube” by T. G. Jackson, which is both a meditation on the corrupting powers of money and a ghost story. I only disliked one story, but that was because it was set during World War II during the Blitz and I simply do not like WWII stories in particular; the story itself was well-written and engaging, however. I recently reviewed “London Centric: Tales of Future London,” edited by the same Mr. Whates; “Soot and Steel” is the companion volume, published first in 2019. Both volumes together provide a rich reimagining of one of the most vibrant cities on Earth, and both are highly recommended!
Deborah Blau is a 16-year-old Jewish girl living in a wealthy household with everything going for her, except for the fact that she’s schizophrenic and very, very ill indeed. So ill, in fact, that much as her parents want to deny the truth, they are eventually persuaded to send her to a private mental hospital for treatment. Once there, Deborah quickly escalates until she is sent to D Ward, where the most extreme crazies are locked up; and once *there*, she finally begins to heal, with the aid of a famous and deeply empathetic psychiatrist….This is a multiple-time re-read for me; I think with all the craziness going on in the real world these days, I just felt an urge to dive into an unreal crazy world for a respite. Although published in 1964 and set, I think, more in the late 1950s, the story holds up very well some 56 years later. The imagery, both in terms of how the D Ward is portrayed and the very poetic fantasy world of Yr that Deborah inhabits, still feels very credible and true, and the characters of inmates and staff also ring true. This is one of my all-time favourite books about madness, and well worth searching out if it’s still in print; recommended.
I previously read and enjoyed two novels by Mr. Rosson (“Smoke City” and “Road Seven”), so when Meerkat Press made this collection of short stories available via LibraryThing’s Early Reviewers program, I jumped at the chance. “Folk Songs” consists of 15 stories, each previously published elsewhere, and I found that I needed to read the book in chunks rather than all at once because of the sheer variety of tales being told. Many involve men in crisis, but there are loads of other situations too. My favourites include the first story in the book, “The Lesser Horsemen,” about War, Famine and Pestilence having to go on a cruise in order to learn how to get along with each other (Death, the superstar of the group, doesn’t need the training); “Baby Jill,” about how the Tooth Fairy bears - or doesn’t bear - her burden; the Lord of the Flies-ish “Yes, We Are Duly Concerned with Calamitous Events,” which manages to be both grim *and* hilarious at the same time; “Homecoming,” which involves a soldier returning to his hometown from war, but nothing is the same; and the last story, “Brad Benske and the Hand of Light,” wherein the title character’s wife leaves him for a cult and he more or less falls apart. Some of the stories are downright depressing, but all of them feature the same lyrical and visceral writing style that drew me to Mr. Rosson’s novels; recommended!
When Mimi Augello is forced to flee his paramour’s bedroom as her husband unexpectedly arrives, he runs into an adjacent apartment, only to discover the body of a man there! He can’t just report the find, given his situation at the time, but while discussing it with Inspector Montalbano, they learn that *another* body has been found in the same situation but a different location. This is Carmelo Catalanotti, a local theater director known for his extreme methods of choosing his actors. Now the team has two investigations to make, which is complicated by the disappearance of the first body; even more complicating for Montalbano is the sudden arrival of Antonia Nicoletti, the new chief of forensics…. Although Mr. Camilleri died some years ago, there are still apparently two more Montalbano novels to come after this one, which is welcome news indeed. Here, the cases the detectives are investigating are quite byzantine, but the “complication” arising in Montalbano’s personal life (again) just seems like the fantasies of an aging man. I’ve complained about that feature of this series before, and it’s even more apparent in this entry; that said, I still love the characters, setting and investigations, and will therefore continue to recommend this series heartily. Just start at the beginning, please!
“The Sleeper and the Spindle” is a retelling of Sleeping Beauty, with a bit more darkness and some modern twists thrown in. This particular hardcover edition is illustrated throughout with brilliant black-and-white line drawings by Chris Riddell, who has previously worked with Mr. Gaiman on numerous books. As always, Mr. Gaiman’s writing is absolutely enchanting, and the illustrations make this volume a joy to just gaze at. Really beautiful; recommended.
Here's hoping for a calm and healthy December for everybody!
“Soot and Steel: Dark Tales of London” is a collection of short stories set in London, focusing either on dark fantasy/horror or bleak lives in the city. Seven of the tales are reprints dating from between 1851 and 1922, while the rest are original to this anthology. As with any such volume, each reader will prefer some stories to others, but the overall quality of the tales is quite high in this group. My favourite in the whole book, “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle” by Juliet E. McKenna, is the most upbeat of the lot (I won’t give away the delightful ending); I also much enjoyed “Queen Rat” by David Rix, about a mudlark and a sewer rat encountering treasure in the ancient sewers of London, sewers about to be disrupted by the advent of the Tube and better sewage systems; “The Ghost of Cock Lane” by Rose Biggin, in which Dr. Samuel Johnson sorts out a death, a haunting and a threatened hanging; and 1919’s “A Romance of the Piccadilly Tube” by T. G. Jackson, which is both a meditation on the corrupting powers of money and a ghost story. I only disliked one story, but that was because it was set during World War II during the Blitz and I simply do not like WWII stories in particular; the story itself was well-written and engaging, however. I recently reviewed “London Centric: Tales of Future London,” edited by the same Mr. Whates; “Soot and Steel” is the companion volume, published first in 2019. Both volumes together provide a rich reimagining of one of the most vibrant cities on Earth, and both are highly recommended!
Deborah Blau is a 16-year-old Jewish girl living in a wealthy household with everything going for her, except for the fact that she’s schizophrenic and very, very ill indeed. So ill, in fact, that much as her parents want to deny the truth, they are eventually persuaded to send her to a private mental hospital for treatment. Once there, Deborah quickly escalates until she is sent to D Ward, where the most extreme crazies are locked up; and once *there*, she finally begins to heal, with the aid of a famous and deeply empathetic psychiatrist….This is a multiple-time re-read for me; I think with all the craziness going on in the real world these days, I just felt an urge to dive into an unreal crazy world for a respite. Although published in 1964 and set, I think, more in the late 1950s, the story holds up very well some 56 years later. The imagery, both in terms of how the D Ward is portrayed and the very poetic fantasy world of Yr that Deborah inhabits, still feels very credible and true, and the characters of inmates and staff also ring true. This is one of my all-time favourite books about madness, and well worth searching out if it’s still in print; recommended.
I previously read and enjoyed two novels by Mr. Rosson (“Smoke City” and “Road Seven”), so when Meerkat Press made this collection of short stories available via LibraryThing’s Early Reviewers program, I jumped at the chance. “Folk Songs” consists of 15 stories, each previously published elsewhere, and I found that I needed to read the book in chunks rather than all at once because of the sheer variety of tales being told. Many involve men in crisis, but there are loads of other situations too. My favourites include the first story in the book, “The Lesser Horsemen,” about War, Famine and Pestilence having to go on a cruise in order to learn how to get along with each other (Death, the superstar of the group, doesn’t need the training); “Baby Jill,” about how the Tooth Fairy bears - or doesn’t bear - her burden; the Lord of the Flies-ish “Yes, We Are Duly Concerned with Calamitous Events,” which manages to be both grim *and* hilarious at the same time; “Homecoming,” which involves a soldier returning to his hometown from war, but nothing is the same; and the last story, “Brad Benske and the Hand of Light,” wherein the title character’s wife leaves him for a cult and he more or less falls apart. Some of the stories are downright depressing, but all of them feature the same lyrical and visceral writing style that drew me to Mr. Rosson’s novels; recommended!
When Mimi Augello is forced to flee his paramour’s bedroom as her husband unexpectedly arrives, he runs into an adjacent apartment, only to discover the body of a man there! He can’t just report the find, given his situation at the time, but while discussing it with Inspector Montalbano, they learn that *another* body has been found in the same situation but a different location. This is Carmelo Catalanotti, a local theater director known for his extreme methods of choosing his actors. Now the team has two investigations to make, which is complicated by the disappearance of the first body; even more complicating for Montalbano is the sudden arrival of Antonia Nicoletti, the new chief of forensics…. Although Mr. Camilleri died some years ago, there are still apparently two more Montalbano novels to come after this one, which is welcome news indeed. Here, the cases the detectives are investigating are quite byzantine, but the “complication” arising in Montalbano’s personal life (again) just seems like the fantasies of an aging man. I’ve complained about that feature of this series before, and it’s even more apparent in this entry; that said, I still love the characters, setting and investigations, and will therefore continue to recommend this series heartily. Just start at the beginning, please!
“The Sleeper and the Spindle” is a retelling of Sleeping Beauty, with a bit more darkness and some modern twists thrown in. This particular hardcover edition is illustrated throughout with brilliant black-and-white line drawings by Chris Riddell, who has previously worked with Mr. Gaiman on numerous books. As always, Mr. Gaiman’s writing is absolutely enchanting, and the illustrations make this volume a joy to just gaze at. Really beautiful; recommended.
Here's hoping for a calm and healthy December for everybody!