Archive for the ‘book reviews’ Category

Secret Histories


2010
04.21

Secret Histories Cover Before we go any further I better put my hand up and admit a small conflict of interest here. The editor and several of the writers in Big Finish’s latest Bernice Summerfield anthology, Secret Histories have written for Obverse and are friends of mine.  I even get a couple of thank yous in the acknowledgments.  With that in mind, you would be forgiven for assuming a lesser man might be nice and say good things about the book even if it were rubbish.

Have no fear, though – as one of the authors in this book once said of me, there’s no need to worry I’m just being polite, because I’m really quite rude and unpleasant.  So I’ll mention if anything’s a bit crappy, I promise.

First things first, then: the framing sequence.  I do like the framing, eh, frame which links together Benny story collections more than the often tenuous thematic links which generally bound together the Big Finish Short Trips collections.  Editor Mark Clapham’s excuse for telling a few stories is no better or worse in concept than any other one, and he has a nice turn of phrase which makes the segments in between stories proper always readable.  At times the reasons given for telling any one specific story seem strained to the point of snapping but any collection with a reasonable range of stories will inevitably suffer from this. Perhaps something like the Richard Salter-edited ‘Transmissions’ Short Trips book where a theme is glued together by a framing sequence is the best way to go, but in the case of Secret Histories, a couple of stories do feel as though they’ve been dropped into the uber-narratibe for very little reason.

Never mind that, though.  This is a book full of arresting imagery – flocks of flying alarm clocks, lasers made from flowers, a creature made of rainbows – and sparkling writing (‘that’s fairly atypical behaviour, even for the most persistent of white goods’ being a particular favourite line).  It feels a bit short in terms of page count, it has to be said, but the decision to have only nine stories, each a little longer than the more common Big Finish short story, pays off with a succession of thoughtful, intelligent stories.

In passing, it’s good to see Big Finish continuining to experiment with the format of their Benny anthologies in a way they never did with Doctor Who (possibly because the BBC wouldn’t let them, of course).  After the successful ‘three novellas in one’ collections which I liked a lot, Clapham’s preference for fewer but longer stories is another success and one I hope Big FInish try again in the future.

Moving on to a quick run through of the stories themselves, Lance Parkin turns in his usual solid and workmanlike story to kick things off with “A Game of Soldiers”.  There’s nothing here to astonish or astound, but Parkin rarely turns in a poor short story and this is as professional a tale as ever.  He knows how to write Benny, and if he does lean on ‘hey look – she likes a drink’ rather more than I hoped it’s an issue many writers have with Ms Summerfield.  It’s perhaps a litte bit Benny by Numbers, but there are worse things to read.

Paul Farnsworth, on the other hand, pops up next with a story that starts like a suitcase full of spanners.  Living household appliances have of course already made appearances in Paul Magrs’ Doctor Who and Iris Wildthyme stories, but filling an entire jungle with evolved kitchenware works fantastically well here.  I guessed what was going to happen very early on, but these aren’t mystery stories after all, and more importantly I laughed out loud several times at this story.  I’d never  heard of Farnsworth before, but all in all was mightily impressed by ‘Cooker Island’.

Jim Smith’s ‘A Gallery of Pigeons’ has a far more traditional setting and is a welcome return for the author to the era of Mycroft Holmes which he’s previously explored in the Benny audio, ‘The Adventure of the Diogenes Damsel’.  I marginally prefered the audio to this prose effort, but it’s a close run thing and in any case that’s no particular put-down as the audio was really excellent.  Smith is obviously comfortable with this style of writing and with the period in general, the story makes an unusual-for-Benny use of time travel and the plot does for once slot very neatly in with the framing arc.  Another solid effort.

Eddie Robson’s ‘The Firing Squad’ is probably my favourite story in the collection.  As with all these stories it’s a little longer than is the norm in a Big Finish collection and Robson makes good use of the extra space to craft a beautifully layered tale, which  manages to shed some light on Adrian’s thoughts and motivations while still remembering to provide an engaging story.

‘You Shouldn’t Have’ by Cody Schell is exactly what you expect to get, given the author’s previous work.  A distinctive voice, funny, unexpected and slightly mad by turns, it’s undoubtedly the least obvious plot you could come up with for Adrian, the eight foot tall Killorian, and features a very well handled, intriguingly alien society.

Jon Dennis’ ‘Redacted’ takes a potentially grim occasion, as a military dictator sets himself up in power and people start disappearing, and turns it into a black comedy of mistaken identity.  Dennis has a real knack for this sort of slightly askew humour and it shines through here.

Mark Michalowski is among my favourite writers, so it’s no surprise to find that I love ‘The Illuminated Man’. Like his earlier Benny tale, ‘Let There Be Stars’, this is another story which concentrates on someone other than Benny, and like that other story this is a strange and lovely bit of writing.  For any fan of Tod Browning, the story of Dog Boy Peter living with pinheads, strongmen and other freaks in a travelling circus is bound to ring a bell, and his encounter with a haunting man with an angel’s heart is deftly and movingly done.

Richard Freeman is a crypto-zoologist for a living (how cool is that, incidentally!) and it really shows in his story.  It’s a  welcome sight to find a story set somewhere other than Britain or the States – Tasmania just as white Europeans first arrive – and the knowledge that the Aborigines Benny is living with will all be murdered within a generation is a sobering and effecting one.  Perhaps a little too much of the story is taken up with describing legendary (as opposed to real) animals in detail and to no real narrative purpose, but for all that the ending is nicely done and the generally downbeat tone has a pleasantly elegiac feel to it.

Finally, Nick Wallace brings the collection to a conclusion with another grim story in which Benny is again alone and in danger.  To say much about the story would be to give too much away, but suffice to say that it’s a fitting story with which to end the book, and for me at least occasionally reminisent of Wallace’s excellent Doctor Who novel Fear Itself.

I like the Benny books a lot and Secret Histories shouldn’t be embarassed to stand alongside the other books in the series.  You can’t really ask for more than that.

Shooty Dog Thing


2010
02.05

The first thing you notice when you get your copy of Shooty Dog Thing in the post (especially if you’ve brow-beaten Brax into sending yours first!) is just how cool the coSDT Coverver is.  With the front door panels (including the lights through the window slat) painted on a brick wall above double yellow lines and the wonderfully inclusive tag ‘by Paul Castle and Friends’, it’s clear from the start that if nothing else this is a book into which a lot of care and attention has been poured.

Which is as it should be.  For all the nostalgic reminisces of old time fans, few fanzines in days of old approached the quality of the original editions of “Shooty Dog Thing” from which this book is culled.  Partially this is down to technological advances – laying out a fanzine as a pdf on a computer is a damn sight easier than typing out long articles and sticking drawings in place with glue before shoving the whole thing under a hot photocopier!

But there’s more to it than that, I think.

The range of articles in the book demonstrate two things.  First, that the return of the series to television  screens was more than a simple fillip to the fan world, it was an absolutely vital regeneration.  At the most basic level, there’s obviously articles about the RTD years, providing much needed New Stuff to Talk About.  But even those entries which are focused on the old series feel informed by the new, with original points of comparison and fresh angles from which to re-assess the, ahem, ‘Classic’ series.  Secondly (and more interestingly to me, frankly) SDT highlights the fact that – far more than any other similar franchise – even without a tv series Doctor Who exists in a bigger universe than just the adventures of the Doctor.  There are articles in here on Benny, season 6B and (closest to my own selfish heart) Iris Wildthyme, as well as the the sort of mix of reviews, interviews and mad speculations you might otherwise have expected.

I doubt everyone will like everything (the piece on who the 456 are from the awful Torchwood left me cold, for instance) but equally there will be no-one who doesn’t like much of it.

Doctor Who is a massive, brilliant, exciting, clever and just plain wonderful thing and Shooty Dog Thing does it justice – can’t say fairer than that!

PS Pay particular attention to Jon Arnold’s excellent review of Iris Wildthyme and the Celestial Omnibus!

PPS And one complaint – where was Erik Pollit’s list of Rubbish Monsters! :)

Buy Shooty Dog Thing from Hirst Books (opens a new window)

A Recommended Author


2009
12.09

A Sinister Aura – Bret Herholz

And now for something completely different. If the autumn felt like a good time to be reading old detective novels set in simpler times, then the winter is definitely time for pulling the curtains closed, sticking on the fire and curling up in a big round chair, reading kids’ books, ghost stories and comic books.

This is the first of Herholz’s graphic novels I’ve read, though I’ve loved his Edward Gorey style illustrations since I first saw them (to the extent that I’m delighted that he has graciously agreed to do a cover for an upcoming Iris book).

It’s the story of a strange suicide/murder in 19th century America and one potential, scandalous solution.

Herholz moves the story from its original 1889 setting to one about 30 years later, in order to make the apparently clairvoyant Miss Polly a little more modern while retaining the Crichton/Jeeves style manservant Handgraves (it’s a lovely detail that these are the adventures of Polly and Handgraves, and not vice-versa as one might expect). It’s a good idea, I think, as the drawing (which is particularly fabulous in those panels which feature what appear to be ghosts) lends itself particularly well to the post-Victorian period.

The mystery is intriguing, the writing taut and without a pound of waste and the illustration and lettering all top notch. Throw in an additional short story, a note from the author and a preview of Herholz’s next work, and this comes highly recommended to anyone looking for something more than the latest Spider-Man.

Strange Girls and Other Stories


2009
11.10


I took the train across the Pennines from Manchester to Leeds in the spring, with the hills all verdant and the little train stations we stopped at glistening and bright from spring showers. The sun was shining in that weak, tentative sort of way it has in March and April and every town and village the train passed through looked like it was probably packed with second hand bookshops and winding streets full of junkshops and little cafes.

And yet the best bit of my trip south was none of that, but was when the train slowly chugged its way through the outskirts of northern industrial towns like Bolton and Blackburn, past abandoned factories and tumbling red brick walls, the signage long gone but the names of forgotten places still visible greyly amongst the soot. Obviously working factories are to be preferred to derelict ones, but I love industrial history and abandonment is perversely usually the only way to preserve industrial places as they once were.

That, and writing about them.

Co-incidentally, I picked up a copy of Sallie Day’s The Palace of Strange Girls on another trip south, this time in Ilkley in Yorkshire. I bought it in one of those two books for a fiver deals you get in bookshops occasionally, and in another peculiarity showed it to Paul, who I was meeting up with in Ilkley, and he said ‘I was on the judging panel who gave that book the Portico Prize you know’. Small world and all that…

The Palace of Strange Girls is set in that unfashionable post-war decade or so which existed before the Beatles and the sexual revolution. It’s a particularly British period – or at least it feels that way to me – of austerity and want giving way to affluence and possession. It’s an era amrked by masses of working class British teenagers aping their American counterparts for the first time, but in an awkward, not quite right, way that I recognise from my own teenage years in the early 80s but which no longer exists due to the Internet and the swamping of British television by US imports nowadays.

And yet at the same time it’s a period of industrial upheaval, of layoffs and factory closures, as traditional working practices lose out to innovations generated by the wartime economy now filtering down to the country at large.

The story is of the Singleton family’s trip to Blackpool in 1959: sickly Beth recovering from a heart operation (‘A fifty/fifty chance of success’ according to the surgeon), big sister Helen hoping to assert herself an an adult and parents Jack and Ruth bickering about everything, but mainly their differing ambitions.

It’s a delightful, intricate sort of story, as the family interacts with other Blackpool inhabitants, permanent and transitory, and large and small tragedies loom out of the pages to come like speeding cars in the dark. In a very first novel sort of way, subplot layers upon subplot but unlike many first novels this kitchen sink approach works on every level.

And in the background, the destruction of the Lancashire cotton industry is tied neatly in to the familial strife, as Jack decides whether to take a job as a factory manager or as an area rep for the Union, and Ruth begs him to go with the union so that they can move to a bigger, better house.

It’s Jack’s story in many ways, in fact, which comes as a surprise in a book which could easily be read as very superior chick-lit. He has the glamorous past, the responsible and successful present and the promising future. His actions and inactions make or break everybody’s future: financially, socially, personally, emotionally. His physicality – described at various times as a soldier, a worker, a fist fighter and a passionate lover – is contrasted with his intellectual abilities and more gentle nature: there’s a gorgeous passage, for instance, where Jack wanders round the hotel dining room, naming the weaves in every different kind of cloth as Beth points to curtains and tablecloths, clothes and napkins. And in the end, even while the author claims that he is ‘not a sentimental man’ it’s Jack who ensures that all of those who matter to him get what they want, even where it’s not entirely what they deserve.

A lovely book all round, really – one character says towards the end of the book that he’ll be glad to see the back of the fifties, but I’d have been happy to stay with the Singletons a little longer.

Blackpool in 1959

* Factory image courtesy of Mzacha

Nice review


2009
02.10

[of my story in Shelf Life, that is]

No Place Like Home by Stuart A Douglas

We are on the very edge of Whoniverse here. This is an Iris Wildthyme story although Iris herself is little more than a framing character. This really belongs to a pacifist Cyberman, a pair of individualist Sontarans (who rebel against the clone world by wearing a hat with a feather in it or a leather jacket), and a loner Auton who doesn’t want to be part of the pack. In case you hadn’t guessed – this is a comic piece that vaults the highest bar by actually being funny. And it gets better on a second or third reading when you can go back and enjoy the little throwaway lines instead of powering ahead to find out what is going on.

http://www.doctorwhoforum.com/showpost.php?p=7668937&postcount=152

The book has just been re-printed, so you should definitely go and buy a copy if you haven’t yet!