A Blunt Instrument (by Georgette Heyer)

(Amazon UK link)

In re-reading my collection of Georgette Heyer’s crime novels, I reached ‘A Blunt Instrument’, which I first read in 2008. And although I usually forget who the perpetrator is in this kind of book, I could recall who it was in this one. I had worked it out within a few chapters the first time I read it, and thought it quite a clever story. 

I had not remembered any of the other characters when I picked this up to read yesterday. But it was very interesting knowing from the start ‘whodunit’, seeing how cleverly the author wove in many subplots and red herrings. I think this is one of her best crime novels, although I have been wondering whether she deliberately made it clear to the readers who was the guilty party, to make the investigations all the more interesting - and, at times, quite tense.

Ernest Fletcher is the victim in this story, which was first published in 1938 as a contemporary novel. He’s just been killed in the first chapter, so we never meet him. It appears, at first, that he’s universally liked: he lives with his sister, who is fond of him, and his many staff consider him a kind, generous man. We gradually learn that he had a weakness for pretty women, and had conducted several affairs over the years: mostly discreetly… 

Ernie’s nephew Neville is staying in the house, and I found him quite an amusing young man. He has little idea of economy and has travelled, incurring debts, around the world. His uncle has bailed him out many times, mostly good-naturedly. Neville is horrified at being his uncle’s heir, now owner of the stately home and his uncle’s fortune, as he insists that he prefers being penniless. 

A few minutes’ walk away live John and Helen North; they have been married for five years and seem to have become estranged. Helen has some debts which she daren’t tell her husband about, and it appears that she was visiting Ernie around the time of his murder. Helen’s sister Sally is staying; she’s a crime writer whom I also found rather likeable and amusing at times. 

Superintendent  Hannasyde of Scotland Yard is called in to the case, with his sidekick Inspector Hemmingway, and they’re assisted by the local PC Glass, who is a member of a strict religious sect and keeps quoting Scripture at anyone around him. 

All the main characters are three dimensional; Heyer was excellent at creating believable, well-rounded people, and I very much liked the interactions between them. Neville likes to invent stories that are far-fetched, which doesn’t impress the police. Hemmingway is thorough but not as astute as his boss who often has a twinkle in his eye as he listens to something outrageous.

Some of Georgette Heyer’s crime novels seem too straightforward compared to her contemporary Agatha Christie, but her characterisation is so good that it never much matters. But in this book her plotting is as masterful as her conversation and character-building, and once again I thought it a very good read.  Even knowing the perpetrator - who isn’t unmasked until near the end - I found it an enthralling read, and could barely put it down.

Definitely recommended if you like this kind of British light crime fiction set around the middle of the 20th century.

  Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

Silver Wedding (by Maeve Binchy)

(Amazon UK link)

Having decided to re-read my large collection of novels by the late Maeve Binchy, in roughly chronological order, I picked up ‘Silver Wedding’ a couple of days ago. I recalled liking this book very much, but since I hadn’t read it since 2003 I had no recollection of any of the characters, nor of any story other than that it related to the celebration of a Silver Wedding.

Desmond and Deirdre are the couple soon to celebrate 25 years of marriage; it’s clear from the start that they love parties, and - even more - love talking about the family photos that are taken for every milestone and party. They are in their late forties, but already empty-nesters. Their three children, Anna, Brendan and Helen, have all left home.

Anna, as the eldest (and the one closest to her parents) knows that it’s up to her to organise the party. She has lots of ideas, then decides that the best thing is to discuss it with her parents. The first chapter of the book is focussed on Anna and her boyfriend Joe, who (it’s clear) is dependent on her home and income. Anna works in a bookshop and Joe is an out-of-work actor. 

Each chapter then switches to another of the main characters in the family and the original wedding party. We don’t see the meeting Anna has with her parents; instead, time gradually eases forward and we learn that people have received invitations, or that they’re thinking about what they might wear. It’s cleverly done; each chapter has a little subplot of its own, revealing secrets about the person concerned, and a bit more about some of the others. 

Brendan is the subject of the second chapter. He lives in Ireland with his uncle, after escaping from what he perceived as pressure from his parents to be academic and work in an office. It’s a bit ironic, since his father, quarter of a century earlier, escaped from the bleak family farm to live in London. 

Helen is perhaps the most interesting of the three: she’s a postulate in a convent, but the other nuns really don’t know if she’s suited to taking her vows. They all work in the community, and Helen is enthusiastic and big-hearted, but tends to make all kinds of mistakes. I liked Helen very much and felt a lot of empathy for her situation, and the secret that is revealed in her chapter.

Maeve Binchy had a gift for creating slightly larger-than-life but three dimensional people who are easy to distinguish from each other. And she was a master at ‘showing not telling’ - often we learn more about people other than the viewpoint character during the course of a chapter, from the conversations and thoughts of the person concerned.

There are some quite series themes covered sensitively such as teenage pregnancies, and adultery, as well as the gentler topics of lies, misunderstandings or miscommunications within families. Several people learn, over the course of the book, that the way they were living or the lies they were telling were unnecessary. 

I’m very glad I re-read this book, which I liked very much and would recommend to anyone who likes this kind of women’s fiction. It was first published in 1989 so inevitably feels a bit dated; but the people are recognisable, and likeable, and I was sorry to close the last page and say ‘goodbye’ to them. 

  Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

Apples Never Fall (by Liane Moriarty)

(Amazon UK link)

I very much liked the first few books I read by the Australian author Liane Moriarty, so put a couple more on my wishlist. I was given ‘Apples never fall’ for my birthday a year ago; for some reason I didn’t start it until last weekend, but I finished it in just three days despite it being quite a long novel close to 500 pages). 

The story involves the disappearance of a woman in her sixties called Joy. She’s married to Stan, and they have four adult children: Amy, Logan, Troy and Brooke. The day she vanished, she sent a mysterious text message to all four, but they can’t figure out what it means - and begin to wonder if someone else sent it. Joy and Stan used to run a tennis coaching business, although they have now retired. All four of their children played tennis to quite a high standard when they were younger.

After nearly a week without hearing from Joy, a police report is filed and an investigation starts.  We’re taken through the questions asked, the theories that abound, and the suspicions that gradually deepen. Has Joy been kidnapped? Has she had an accident? Is she even alive…?  

The book is very cleverly written, with chapters set either ‘now’ or the previous Autumn, progressing forward. So we see questions asked ‘now’, and then flash back to a family scene or incident from a few months earlier which may (or may not) shed some light on what is going on. 

Much of the story revolves around a young woman called Savannah who arrives on Joy and Stan’s doorstep in the ‘September’ section, very early in the book. She’s drenched, she’s crying, and she has a scratch on her face - she tells them that her boyfriend hit her, and that she jumped in a random taxi then knocked on the door of a house that had lights on, and looked friendly. 

Joy is a kind-hearted, motherly person who finds her empty nest and retirement quite difficult to handle. So she takes Savannah in, feeds her, and lets her sleep in Amy’s room. A day or two turns into a longer stay; Savannah is an excellent cook, and good company too. Amy was always quite prickly as a child, and suffered depression; Brooke was close to her parents but has always suffered debilitating migraines. Neither has any interest in cooking or shopping, so Savannah seems the ideal surrogate daughter…

The four adult children are suspicious, although they can’t quite put a finger on why. Troy is a very wealthy man who mostly lives in the United States, trading in something that’s never made quite clear. Logan teaches at a community college and is quite laid back. Amy works as a taste tester, though she doesn’t tend to stick to one job for long. Brooke has just started a business offering physiotherapy. They’re different enough people, and three dimensional so I never had any trouble recalling who was whom. 

As I’ve come to expect with Liane Moriarty, there are twists and turns as new revelations appear; not everything comes to light immediately, and it gradually becomes clear that the family weren’t as perfect as they seemed to outsiders. Secrets emerge, and I really had no idea which way the story was going. I found it compelling reading and could hardly put it down at times. 

Several important issues are touched upon, mostly relationship-based; there are some particularly poignant scenes relating to childhood pressures and abuses. The question is left open as to how far our childhood experiences determine our characters as adults, and whether it’s ever a good idea to try to take revenge. 

I thought the climax to the book was very well done, tying up most of the ends neatly. So I was slightly surprised it didn’t finish soon after; only to discover one more extra little twist in the final chapter. 

Highly recommended to anyone who likes character-based fiction with a bit of mystery.

   Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The Naughtiest Girl in the School (by Enid Blyton)

(Amazon UK link)

As a child, I loved Enid Blyton books. Like many Brits my age who have ended up as enthusiastic readers, I read and re-read the adventure, mystery and school stories (and others) by Enid Blyton as often as I could. Adults sometimes turned their noses up at the similar storylines, and relatively low quality of writing. Nowadays many people object to the apparent racism and obvious sexism, although they were not unusual for the middle of the 20th century, and were not intended to hurt or demean anyone.

I kept most of my children’s books; my sons liked some Enid Blyton, and I have lent many of them to friends’ children over the decades. I have even replaced a few that were falling apart. So I was delighted when I learned that my seven-year-old granddaughter has discovered Enid Blyton. She was listening to the St Clare’s series on audio-books, and when I visited, I found the three ‘Naughtiest Girl’ books in excellent condition in a local church charity shop.

After giving up on reading aloud the wordy and frankly unsuitable ‘Peter Pan’, I suggested reading ‘The Naughtiest Girl in the School’ to my granddaughter.  She reads fluently herself, but reading aloud is an excellent way to introduce children to books they might not otherwise pick up. It must be thirty years or more since I last read this book, so although I recalled the overall plot, I had forgotten most of the details.

Elizabeth Allen is the protagonist, the ‘Naughtiest Girl’ of the title. She is a rather spoilt only child who has had a series of governesses. Her current one has resigned due to Elizabeth’s bad behaviour, and her parents must travel to some unknown destination where she can’t join them. So they have decided that she will go to boarding school. We never learn Elizabeth’s age; I assume she’s about ten or eleven, but it doesn’t much matter. 

Elizabeth decides that she will be so naughty that she will be expelled. But she doesn’t reckon with Whyteleafe School, which is unusual (particularly so for the era) in its self-governing nature, and the fact that it’s co-educational. There’s a Head Girl and a Head Boy, and twelve ‘monitors’ who are chosen from their peers and act as a kind of jury when needed. Each week there’s a whole school ‘meeting’ where any problems or issues are raised, and dealt with. The two Headmistresses, Miss Belle and Miss Best are present, but don’t interfere. And on the whole it works very well.

Some of Elizabeth’s antics are quite amusing, and in reading aloud to a seven-year-old I was able to appreciate them from a child’s point of view along with her. Moral lessons are, of course made, but mostly fairly subtly: Elizabeth learns about living with other people, considering their viewpoints, and how her own actions appear to others. She thinks more about her relationship with her parents, and - when asked - befriends an unhappy girl in her class. 

She’s quite impetuous and sometimes does things without thinking them through, but the school staff and some of the older students realise that underneath her anger and hurt, she’s a hard-working and kind girl. She’s also extremely stubborn, and has a hard time deciding what to do when she realises that she is enjoying many activities at the school and that she will miss her friend if, as planned, she leaves after the first half term.

I didn’t manage to finish re-reading it during my visit, but my granddaughter will now have read the rest of the book herself. When I got home, I picked my own copy up and finished it too. Some of the writing is a bit stilted, and there’s a bit of author intrusion here and there - it’s not a deep or brilliantly written book, and the outcome is predictable. But I thought it a good story, and as it was one of my favourites when I was a child, I’m glad I still liked it. 

My granddaughter’s edition (and mine - this is one of the books I replaced) don’t seem to have been edited to make them politically correct; the only alteration I noticed is that each child receives two pounds per week from the shared pocket money scheme. That seems quite a lot even by today’s standards, and I’m pretty sure it was two shillings when I first read the books, when I was a child, before decimalisation. 

It’s an ideal book for a fluently reading child who likes old-fashioned stories, and makes a good read-aloud too. Perhaps you have to have grown up with these books to appreciate them as an adult, but they’re regularly republished and have a wide audience. There are two sequels, and another six or seven authorised 'fan fiction' novels in the same series, which can often be bought in sets. 

I can't say I much like the cartoon-style images on the newer editions, but I'm pleased to know that these books are still in print, as well as being widely available second-hand. 

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

Peter Pan (by JM Barrie)

(Amazon UK link)

I was staying with my son and his family, and my 7-year-old granddaughter asked me if I would read the book ‘Peter Pan’ to her. She had seen parts of one of the films, and had heard some of the story (probably abridged) in an audio book. There was a very nice hardback edition on the shelf, so I agreed. I had no memory of ever having read the book, although parts of it are well-known and I had a rough idea of the story. 

It was written over 100 years ago so inevitably the language is dated; that wasn’t a problem, since my granddaughter is an avid reader herself, and I was able to explain words she didn’t understand. But as I read, I became increasingly disturbed by the content.  

We first meet the Darling family: two parents, living in London, with their three children: Wendy, John and Michael. Apparently Mr Darling was worried that he might not be able to afford to have children so there was a section where Mrs Darling (we never learn their first names) had to persuade him that they could keep Wendy. They don’t say what the alternative is: whether to put her up for adoption or send her into care (or the ‘workhouse’, as was a possibility in the early 20th century). But it’s a very odd concept to have in a children’s book. 

Yet there are parts that obviously are intended for children, such as the required nurse (as all middle class families had in those days) being a large dog known as Nana. Nana is an excellent nurse, looking after and protecting the children, and even getting them in and out of bed. And there’s the idea of ‘Neverland’, a kind of dream place that is different for each child, which they believe in when young but gradually lose as they grow older. 

But the first chapter or two focuses more on the parents than the children, and we learn of their devastation when, suddenly, all three have vanished. They don’t seem to have reported this to the police; they are heartbroken, but keep the windows open in case they come back again. As a parent and grandparent I thought this quite distressing; my granddaughter also thought it was very sad, although she told me that she thought the children would return. 

Peter Pan in the book is nothing like the elvish, mischievous Disney creation. He’s an ordinary boy who is selfish and manipulative: his mischief is not for fun, but to annoy or deceive people. His comments about mothers are bizarre - all the more so when the author inserts his own commentary. People look up to him because he loves rescuing them, but it appears to be so he looks good and people applaud him rather than because he has any empathy. 

Peter Pan has not grown up because he lives in 'Neverland', where people's ages don't change, but it's not at all clear how old he is. Other film productions of this have used boys who are young teenagers, but Peter, as we're told more than once, still has his first teeth - which suggests he can't be more than about eight or nine. However Wendy is supposed to be around the same age, and she clearly has the beginnings of a romantic interest in him, and it's stated that he is around the same age as she is. 

As for Tinkerbell, the fairy, she’s spiteful, jealous and possessive. Then she makes a huge sacrifice on behalf of Peter, and there’s a strange section (another that has become common knowledge) about children believing in fairies and how she can survive if enough children clap. 

The book is very sexist, typical of the era, and somewhat racist too, but most worrying was the indiscriminate violence. We learn, almost casually, that the evil Captain Hook lost his hand when Peter cut it off and fed it to a crocodile. Neverland is a place of almost constant fighting and danger, and Peter appears to like it that way.

By the time I had read about six or seven chapters, omitting a few sentences here and there, my granddaughter agreed with me that it really wasn’t a nice book and she didn’t want to hear any more. However, I was intrigued to know if it got better so I downloaded a very inexpensive version for my Kindle, and finished reading it when I got home. 

It really didn’t get any better. There’s a lot of violence, some quite serious threats of danger, and rampant killings with no compunction towards the end. Yet we also get insights into Hook's character based on reminiscences of his time at Eton. 

Yes, there’s a happy conclusion where the children (and the ‘lost’ boys) fly back to London, and Peter has a moment of understanding that allows him to let go. But I really don’t think this book with its original text is at all suitable for young children, certainly not those who are sensitive. And I didn't much enjoy it as an adult, either. Still, it's considered a classic and many people love the story, so don't necessarily take my word for it. 

  Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews