robinwalter's reviews
1780 reviews

Egypt on the Brink by Tarek Osman

dark informative reflective sad tense medium-paced

4.5

A sober, sombre recitation of the recent history of a country whose modern iteration is often overlooked for its glamourised and mythologised past. Not an easy read, but a very worthwhile one

Ednapedia: A History of Australia in a Hundred Objects by Dame Edna Everage

funny lighthearted fast-paced

3.5

Predictable but it still raised a few chuckles

Matatu: A History of Popular Transportation in Nairobi by Kenda Mutongi

informative medium-paced

4.5

I had never heard of matatus before reading this book, so I learned a great deal about Kenyan history and politics through this account of its truly homegrown transport 'system'

China from Empire to Nation-State by Michael Hill, Wang Hui

challenging informative reflective slow-paced

4.75

A very dense read, and a very thought-provoking one. It made me think about connections I'd never made before, and added depth and a new perspective to what had previously been my dangerously over-simplified take on the issue of China as a nation-state.  The complex ideas and arguments being presented also make this book a remarkable tribute to its translator. 

Tikim: Essays on Philippine Food and Culture (revised and Updated) by Doreen Fernandez

informative reflective

4.0

I learned a lot about Filipino culture and history through this book about its food, it was very interesting.

Harlequin House by Margery Sharp

funny lighthearted relaxing fast-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

"The refining influence of natural beauty, particularly upon members of the Anglo-Saxon race, is a fact universally admitted, particularly by Anglo-Saxons."


The opening sentence of Harlequin House delivered a laugh. I'm giving the book 4.5/5 for delivering plenty more. The story was offbeat, the characters very nearly more so, but it all hung together because Ms Sharp was not building a story built on a narrative, she was providing entertainment. That opening sentence did set the tone for the rest of the book - gently satirical, wryly amused, and very amusing. A few examples that tickled my funny bone:

She did not stop to enquire why her fiancé had not let her know of his return, it was enough that he was there, at hand, obviously willing and competent to take all responsibility from her shoulders. It was an attitude which Mr. Partridge highly approved: he liked women to be feminine, and it pleased him to discover that Miss Campion’s true character, now revealed, was that of a clinging vine.

I laughed at this passage because it highlighted the difference between Ms. Sharp's writing and that of other middlebrow authors I've read. Some middlebrow books have had characters express more or less exactly this sentiment in complete earnest, an attitude that seriously irks me. Because Ms. Sharp on the other hand made it patently clear she was mocking the attitude, it was funny. 

 At the very start of  Elizabeth Crawford's very  informative introduction she mentions that " the Manchester Guardian intimated that she was second only to P.G. Wodehouse as a comic novelist" .  That is VERY high praise and I'm not sure I'd go quite that far, but there were passages in the book that definitely reminded me of the style of PGW. These two, for example:

The unmarried Victorian uncle, unlike the unmarried Victorian aunt, had played but little part in the nation’s domestic economy: his passing left a gap outside the stage-door rather than a gap in the kitchen or nursery.

He had no foolish scruples about leaving the ladies behind: he came from a walk of life in which the pleasures of the male did not admit of interference.

And finally a line that really made me chuckle because of the context in which I read this book. It was the fifteenth and final book of my Dean Street December 2024, in which I read only books from Dean Street Press.  Since nine of the other books were detective stories, I found this parenthetical  statement amusingly apposite.

(Lisbeth encouraged detective stories; they all had such moral endings.)

In summary this was a delightful read.  Satirical without being acidic, laughing at its characters but making sure we knew it was ok to do so because they did too. Sweet without being saccharine,  and ending on a positive,  literally life-affirming note. Love, life, and laughs - all were to be found in Harlequin House.

Mystery Villa by E.R. Punshon

dark mysterious reflective sad medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Plot
• Strong character development? N/A
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? No
• Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A

5.0

When it comes to that exalted icon of golden age mystery fiction, Dorothy Sayers, I may well be iconoclast-in-chief. However, my esteem for her as a literary critic soared after reading this book. By the time I'd read about 1/4 of it, I posted this on social media: 

"my reaction to Curtis Evans' intro was to think he (and Dorothy Sayers) were laying it on a bit thick re the Gothic gloomy malevolence, so I started it. Now I'm 1/4 done, it's time for bed & the knowledge they weren't will haunt me" 

There was no hyperbole in that. The chapter given over to describing Bobby Owen's search of the eponymous mystery villa was outstanding writing. It was literally atmospheric in the best possible way. I was there, and I was very unsettled. So much so that I was not entirely unhappy at discovering a  little computer problem that took an hour to fix and that ensured I went to bed without Punshon's eerily evocative writing percolating. That lengthy passage was such a highlight that when I resumed reading the next morning, I started from the beginning of that chapter rather than from where I had left off, in order to get back into the mood of the book. 

After that magnificent exercise in scene-setting, the story got down to the brass tacks of working out whodunnit. There are actually two murders in the story; the first a sad tale that fits perfectly with the  Gothic setting of the mystery villa, the second a depressingly commonplace crime which was however meticulously planned and carried out. The two murders are linked and the newly promoted Sergeant Bobby Owen and Superintendent Mitchell do some first class detective work in solving one of them. Along the way, there's plenty of Punshon's penchant for wryly droll observations that amuse me, like this summary of a newspaper article 

a leading local Fascist (aetat 18) had exchanged rude repartee with a prominent Communist (aetat 17½) of the neighbourhood, both of them probably destined to be good sound solid Tory voters before many more years had passed. 

Or this comment about the unstoppable nature of a Police investigation. 

It’s simply got to go on – like day and night, or a broadcast talk, or the traffic down the Strand, or one of Noel Coward’s plays.’ 

and some writing that gave me pause, like this  reflection on the aftereffects of World War 1 

 The war tried humanity too highly, and men and nations broke beneath the strain, often reacting strangely and dreadfully. Now the peace, too, tries some beyond their strength, and they, too, at times, react strangely – and even dreadfully. 

and this observation on the passing of time. 

the supreme mystery of time that slips by like a dream and yet bears all substantial things away. 

This very understated scene at the very end  left me wondering how Punshon felt about capital punishment: 

‘Yes,’ she said. 
(the other woman), standing by her side, shook her head. 
‘No,’ she said. 
Two soft, half-whispered common words that doomed a living person to the gallows. 

I read this as my 14th book for Dean Street December 2024 and after my 13th had confirmed Susan Scarlett is not for me, this one proved Punshon definitely IS. Once again I am indebted to Dean Street Press for reissuing this work, and to Curtis Evans for his as always excellent introduction. The next time he warns me of an eery, unsettling atmosphere in a story, I'll believe him! 

Babbacombe's by Susan Scarlett

lighthearted medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? No
• Loveable characters? No
• Diverse cast of characters? No
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.0

This was my second Susan Scarlett novel. At the end of my review of my first, Clothes-Pegs, I wrote
" The excellent introduction by Elizabeth Crawford mentioned that Streatfeild never promoted or pushed her links to the Scarlett novels, and on the strength of the rather neutral impression left by this one, that decision is understandable. " - Reading this one made it practically certain to me that  concern for her professional reputation was the reason Streatfeild never confessed to being Susan Scarlett, and that her concern was 100% justified.

I started this book because I was looking  for a sweet uncomplicated romance. The romance WAS very sweet, the complications threatened retinal damage from the eye-rolling they induced. The first and biggest complication was the evil cousin. About a quarter of the way through the book, I said this on social media

to describe Dulcie as 1-dimensional would be to credit her character with far too much depth. Do better, Ms Scarlett.

Sadly, that plea went unheeded. Dulcie remained a character for whom 1-dimensional would be excessively complimentary and her story arc was exactly zero degrees. 

The other clichéd contrived complication was a CEO who, having built a successful department store out of a small grocery shop was apparently unable to fathom that he might have TWO female employees with the same surname.  That bizarre brainfade fed into the other major "keep them apart" contrivance - the female lead's near obsessive fixation on what BOTH fathers might think.  At one point her wannabe/future boyfriend said this

“Are we to spend all our days fussing what our fathers think?” 

Given that he said that 82% of the way through the book, I couldn't help thinking of Phineas' catchphrase from Phineas and Ferb: "Why yes, yes we are"

In the end I rounded this up (way up) to 3/5 because the romance WAS sweet and because the story and execution was so paint-by-numbers mechanically formulaic that I was able to zip through it REALLY fast. 

A Talent to Amuse: A Life of Noel Coward by Sheridan Morley

4.25

 I read this because I wanted to know more about Coward, and the book delivered on that, in spades. The details of Coward's career, from its (and his) infancy to the heights he achieved later in life, were thoroughly and meticulously laid out. It was the second biography by Morley I read as part of Dean Street December 2024, and this one was an easier read. 

It felt like that was in large part due to the very obvious affection the biographer had for his subject. In his Niven biography, Morley came across as almost ruthlessly dispassionate, detailing Niven's many failures and failings both personal and professional in minute (at times almost mindnumbing) detail. The mindnumbing minutiae in THIS biography is reserved for descriptions of the sets and stages of many of Coward's plays. Coward's professional failures are mentioned, but not any personal ones. Even the mother Coward adored comes in for more critical scrutiny than he does. 

Coward was godfather to Morley's son, and that sort of closeness gave this work a much softer focus than his Niven biography. Another factor that likely contributed to the warmer, less clinical feel was that Morley first wrote the book while Coward was alive, with his consent and cooperation, whereas the Niven biography was literally a post-mortem. 

In the prologue Morley states "This was, then, always intended to be a career book and it remains just that." Despite that assertion there are many comments from people who knew him about Noel Coward the person in the biography, but they are without exception positive. Morley states in the prologue to the 1985 edition that he had specifically told Coward he would be talking to Coward's enemies as well as his friends, but if he did, nothing they said made the cut (unless critical reviews count). 

 The book's almost-exclusive focus on Coward's professional life was made much easier because of the length of that career and the staggering breadth and variety of it. Detailed descriptions of the genesis, development and performances of Cowards theatrical productions, songs and films made this a dense read, and an interesting one. I knew he was a  famous playwright, of course, but for me he was primarily a  clever songwriter whose ditties my Dad enjoyed (to this day I often find myself singing "unpack your troubles from your old kit bag and nag, nag, nag" to myself), this book showed that he deserved to be called a genius. A single-minded, determined and (often excessively) hardworking genius. One comment from an actor he worked with summed up many similar remarks throughout the book 

"he taxed me with his sharpness and shrewdness and brilliance" 

 Morley stated in his prologue that he told Coward the book was not going to be a fan book, but it is obvious throughout that he was a fan. A fan who did a great job of recounting a remarkably gifted life and career with incredible attention to detail. That it gave me the opportunity to also compare the same writer's approach to two different life stories was an added bonus.  That it increased my sympathy for David Niven who never got such kind treatment was collateral kindness, I guess.  

The Third Encounter by Sara Woods

dark reflective tense medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? N/A
• Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A

4.0

I read this book as part of Dean Street December 2024, a reading challenge involving books published by Dean Street press. It was the 11th book on my list for the challenge, and after finishing the 10th, I joked about this one representing a major shift in genre triggered by the fact that the title of the book reminded me of a famous science-fiction film. It turns out that I was partly right, in a way that feels a little like punishment for my attempt at wordplay. 

As Curtis Evans mentions in his excellent introduction to the book, the story is not a straight murder mystery. It is a blending of murder mystery with espionage/political thriller. To use the sort of phrase that Anthony's uncle Nicholas might, I would say that the espionage/political thriller genre is one of which I am not overly enamoured. As a result, reading this one was less fun for me than the preceding two. 

I did enjoy reading this book, especially because of the way that it filled in the back story of both Antony and his wife Jenny. In my review of the series opener I mentioned how glad I was that there was no massive info dump of exposition on their back story. Instead Antony's back story forms the crux of this entire novel, and one critical element of Jenny's life story was explicitly stated for the first time. That particular incident was not much of a revelation, even I had been able to deduce that something like it must've happened, but having it confirmed "for the record" as a lawyer like Antony might say, was useful. 

The actual murder mystery in the story was inextricably linked with Antony's past, a past which came back to bite him severely in the story. In the very first book of the series I commented that Anthony's career and professional reputation were put in serious jeopardy, but in this one he nearly lost his life. In addition to that though, he was once again the victim of persecution by a recurring police character, and what smacked of psychological bullying and abandonment by the security services who coerced his cooperation. By the time I reached the end of this book, I was left hoping that Sara Woods does not continue this pattern of making her protagonist a constant victim. 

The story was interesting, with the explanation of Antony's past and how it played out into the murder around which the story is built. Anthony's resolution of the murder mystery by drawing the events of the past to a conclusion was really quite masterful. Complex planning and real intelligence went into his scheme for revealing the actual murderer, and the mastermind of the murder and of Antony's own troubled past. 

A major reason why I'm not a big fan of Le Carré type stories is that they are a little too real. Moral ambiguity, compromises, unsatisfactorily incomplete resolutions - you name it, spy stories have them all. There was a little of that aftertaste with this story too, despite its comparatively tidy wrap-up. 

The tone of this book definitely reflected that greyer and more complex nature. In the previous stories I've included excerpts that I really enjoyed, passages where Woods writing brought a smile to my face. There were no such passages in the story. Indeed the only passage I highlighted in the story was a line from Kipling. I highlighted it because Antony's uncle Nicholas said the words, and then said: "in its context, I must admit, the quotation is not entirely apposite.” 

I on the other hand, feel that not only were they apposite, they serve almost as the theme of the entire story. This is the quote: 

God help us, for we knew the worst too young! 

I'm glad I read this book for the character development, and for seeing Uncle Nicholas unusually proactive in defence of the nephew he often seems to shower only with 'tough love'. Woods showed that she was very capable at blending the two genres together, but it was less to my taste than the preceding two. I know from Curtis Evans' introduction that book four is another one in a similar vein. Which does leave me at an appreciable distance from gruntled.  

I really hope that the series returns to the style and format of the first two, which I adored. That said, for any who enjoy political thrillers and want an excellent example of that genre blended with a murder mystery, this book would be a compelling read.