I recommend these titles for book group discussions, and for the enjoyment of solitary readers as well
This is a revised and updated version of a post I did last year.
Fiction
The Ghost at the Table – Suzanne Berne
The House on Fortune Street – Margot Livesey
The Promise of Happiness, Other People’s Money, and To Heaven By Water – Justin Cartwright
Intuition – Allegra Goodman
The Photograph – Penelope Lively
Prospero’s Daughter – Elizabeth Nunez
Digging To America – Anne Tyler
The Emperor’s Children – Claire Messud
The Other Side of You – Salley Vickers
Elephanta Suite – Paul Theroux
On Chesil Beach, Saturday, Enduring Love – Ian McEwan
Trauma – Patrick McGrath
Cleaver – Tim Parks
The Northern Clemency – Philip Hensher
The Housekeeper and the Professor – Yoko Ogawa
The Human Stain, Everyman – Philip Roth
Hotel Du Lac – Anita Brookner
By the Lake – John McGahern
The Little Stranger – Sarah Waters
Love and Summer – William Trevor
Unfinished Desires – Gail Godwin
The Sense of an Ending – Julian Barnes
State of Wonder and Bel Canto – Ann Patchett
Historical fiction
Land of Marvels – Barry Unsworth
The Shooting Party – Isabel Colegate
The Fall of Troy and The Lambs of London – Peter Ackroyd
Arthur & George – Julian Barnes
Wolf Hall – Hilary Mantel
An Imperfect Lens – Anne Roiphe
Short story collections
It’s Beginning To Hurt – James Lasdun
Both Ways Is the Only Way I Want It – Maile Meloy
In Other Rooms, Other Wonders – Daniyal Mueenuddin
Too Much Happiness – Alice Munro
Cheating at Canasta – William Trevor
Unaccustomed Earth and Interpreter of Maladies – Jhumpa Lahiri
Ideas of Heaven: A Ring of Stories – Joan Silber
Little Black Book of Stories – A.S. Byatt
My Father’s Tears – John Updike
Walk the Blue Fields – Claire Keegan
Classics
The Professor’s House – Willa Cather
Lady Audley’s Secret – Elizabeth Braddon
The House in Paris – Elizabeth Bowen
Washington Square – Henry James
The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald
The Kreutzer Sonata, Family Happiness, and The Death of Ivan Ilyich – Tolstoy
Henry James, by John Singer Sargent
Anton Chekhov and Leo Tolstoy
Mystery and Suspense
The Coffin Trail – Martin Edwards
The Indian Bride, Black Seconds, and Water’s Edge – Karin Fossum
Monsieur Monde Vanishes – Georges Simenon
The Ghost – Robert Harris
Blue Heaven – C.J. Box
Suffer the Little Children, A Sea of Troubles, Girl of His Dreams – Donna Leon
Careful Use of Compliments and novels in The No.1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series – Alexander McCall Smith
Price of Malice – Archer Mayor
The Armand Gamache series – Louise Penny
Minotaur and The Birthday Present – Barbara Vine
Seven Lies – James Lasdun
Once a Biker – Peter Turnbull
Water Like a Stone – Deborah Crombie
Christine Falls – Benjamin Black
The Tinderbox – Jo Bannister
Raven Black and White Nights – Ann Cleeves
What the Dead Know – Laura Lippman
On Beulah Height, and other Dalziel & Pascoe novels – Reginald Hill
The Pure in Heart – Susan Hill
The Godwulf Manuscript and The Professional – Robert B. Parker
The Remains of an Altar and Midwinter of the Spirit– Phil Rickman
The Chameleon’s Shadow – Minette Walters
The Way Some People Die and The Zebra-Striped Hearse – Ross MacDonald
Simisola, and Judgement in Stone– Ruth Rendell
The Accomplice – Elizabeth Ironside
The Suspect – L.R. Wright
Finding Nouf - Zoe Ferraris
Bleeding Heart Square and The Anatomy of Ghosts – Andrew Taylor
Strangers on a Train – Patricia Highsmith
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo – Stieg Larsson
The Cold Dish – Craig Johnson
The Laughing Policeman – Maj Sjowall and Per Wahloo
Hit Parade and Hit and Run – Lawrence Block
Thunder Bay – William Kent Krueger
The Demon of Dakar – Kjell Eriksson
Brat Farrar and The Franchise Affair – Josephine Tey
The Maltese Falcon – Dashiell Hammett
The Keeper of Lost Causes – Jussi Adler-Olsen
(Also see the post entitled “Great Classic Mysteries To Read and Enjoy.”)
Nonfiction
The Gardner Heist: The True Story of the World’s Largest Unsolved Art Theft – Ulirch Boser
The Discovery of France: A Historical Geography – Graham Robb
American Bloomsbury: Louisa May Alcott, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Margaret Fuller, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Henry David Thoreau – Susan Cheever
City of Falling Angels – John Berendt
Mayflower: A Story of Courage, Community, and War – Nathaniel Philbrick
Archie & Amelie: love and madness in the Gilded Age – Donna Lucey
Monsters: Mary Shelley & the Curse of Frankenstein – Dorothy and Thomas Hoobler
The Omnivore’s Dilemma and In Defense of Food – Michael Pollan
The Girls Who Went Away: the hidden history of women who surrendered children for adoption in the decades before Roe v. Wade – Ann Fessler
Uncommon Arrangements: seven portraits of married life in London literary circles, 1910-1939 – Katie Roiphe
Bloody Falls of the Coppermine: madness, murder, and the collision of cultures in the Arctic, 1913 – McKay Jenkins
A Venetian Affair and Lucia: a Venetian life in the age of Napoleon – Andrea Di Robilant
Into the Wild – Jon Krakauer
The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher: a shocking murder and the undoing of a great Victorian detective – Kate Summerscale
Zeitoun – Dave Eggers
The Age of Wonder: how the romantic generation discovered the beauty and terror of science – Richard Holmes
Parallel Lives: five Victorian marriages – Phyllis Rose
The Art of Time in Fiction: as long as it takes – Joan Silber
May and Amy: a true story of family, forbidden love, and the secret lives of May Gaskell, her daughter Amy, and Sir Edward Burne-Jones – Josceline Dimbleby
The Last Duel: a true story of crime, scandal, and trial by combat in medieval France – Eric Jager
Denial: Why Business Leaders Fail to Look Facts in the Face—and What to Do About It – Richard S. Tedlow
Nothing To Be Frightened Of – Julian Barnes
Destiny of the Republic – Candice Millard
The Greater Journey: Americans in Paris – David McCullough
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If you live locally and are in a book club, you might want to stop by one of the Howard County Library System’s branches and pick up their newly updated list of suggested titles for book clubs. Click here for book club tips, FAQ’s, and other useful information concerning how the library can help your group.
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Carol and Pauline, both members of the Usual Suspects, do a great job of keeping in frequent e-mail contact with members between meetings. This practice is great for promoting and maintaining cohesion within the group.
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If you scroll down “Categories” on the right, you’ll see “Book clubs.” There, you will find posts in which I describe a variety of book discussions in which I’ve participated in the past several years.
‘In the antechamber of death, hate was more powerful than love.’ – The Anatomy of Ghosts by Andrew Taylor
The year is 1786. John Holdsworth, bookseller, has written a book himself. It’s called The Anatomy of Ghosts and in it, he debunks the idea of the existence of those spectral beings:
His theme was that stories of the dead revisiting the living could not be taken at face value. Some of them, he wrote, were nothing more than childish superstitions that only children and uneducated women were likely to credit. Others were misunderstandings and delusions, perpetrated in good faith, but now increasingly explicable as natural science revealed more and more of the truth about God’s universe.
Holdsworth had an intensely personal reason for penning this treatise. When his son Georgie accidentally drowned, his distraught wife became obsessed with what she claimed was Georgie’s ghost. Eventually she too died, worn out with grief and obsession.
At this very low point in his life, John Holdsworth receives an unexpected summons from a wealthy aristocrat, Lady Anne Oldershaw. Lady Anne has read Holdsworth’s book, and she has just the commission for him; namely, to find out what has befallen her son. Frank Oldershaw is a student at Cambridge’s Jerusalem College. He claims to have seen the ghost of a recent drowning victim, a young woman named Sylvia Whichcote. This sighting seems to have engendered a kind of madness in Frank,who is currently under the care of a local physician. Lady Anne is not well enough to travel; she needs an emissary who can report back to her on just what is going on in Cambridge. She firmly believes that John Holdsworth is the man for the job. For his part, Holdsworth could use the generous retainer offered by Lady Anne. And wouldn’t it be a good thing to get away from his house by the River Thames, with its bitter memories?
And so Holdsworth journeys down to Cambridge. Once there, he finds himself confronted with a fiendishly complicated set of circumstances. He must speak to many people to try and get at the truth of the matter. Yet these same people proceed to tell him half truths or even outright lies, misrepresenting their own actions, and even more so, their true motivations.
Holdsworth finds Frank Oldershaw in the care of a Dr. Jermyn. Not only in his care, but lodged in his premises. Jermyn believes that this is the best arrangement for his disturbed patients; there are others dwelling there besides Frank. Holdsworth gets an opportunity, albeit brief and carefully controlled, to observe Frank’s treatment in this sort of ad hoc asylum. The young man and his fellow patients are under guard at all times; any sign of undesirable behavior meets with harsh reprisals in the form of withheld food or even physical punishment. Frank has been provided with a limited amount of reading material, and he’s required to perform manual labor. Dr. Jermyn explains that these conditions are imposed in an effort to help the disturbed individual regain full use of his faculties.
Holdsworth is skeptical. He’d like to talk to Frank alone. The good doctor will not allow it. But Holdsworth is about to display a resourcefulness and determination that more than justify Lady Anne’s faith in him. In other words, he is not about to take no for an answer.
While carrying out his investigation, Holdsworth lodges at the home of the Reverend Dr. Carbury, Master of Jerusalem College. Dr. Carbury is a stolid, unimaginative type, but his wife Elinor is cut from an altogether different cloth. While not beautiful, she is spirited and intelligent. She is also trapped and restless. Holdsworth notes all of these qualities – and more….
The Anatomy of Ghosts is peopled by a large cast of characters. One of the most diverting was Harry Archdale, a well-meaning undergraduate whose list of peccadilloes seems endless. Then there’s Philip Whichcote. It was Philip’s wife Sylvia who had died and whose ghost bedevils Frank Oldershaw. You would think that this would make her widower an object of sympathy. But Philip Whichcote is one of the least sympathetic characters in the novel. He presides over an entity called the Holy Ghost Club. It is comprised of undergraduates, eager and foolish young men who in return for a certain sum of money, are instructed by Whichcote in “…the vices of a gentleman.” These are mainly comprised of drunkenness and gambling; in addition, there is one particular membership rite that is truly revolting. Reading about the depravity and debauchery that ran rampant in that assemblage, I felt as though I were face to face with real evil.
I was surprised by Andrew Taylor’s depiction of late eighteenth century Cambridge. I refer to both the town and the university, neither of which come off especially well in this novel. In the passage quoted at the beginning of this post, John Holdsworth makes mention of the scientific advances of the era that should be putting to rest irrational beliefs and superstitions. (You can read about those advances and the people responsible for them in Richard Holmes’s terrific book, The Age of Wonder.) To judge by the ossified curriculum in use at Jerusalem College, you would not know that anything of note in the contemporary world was going on. Students were still almost exclusively studying the ancients, some of whose names are now completely unfamiliar. Andrew Taylor elucidates in an author’s note at the end of the novel:
The eighteenth century was not a glorious period for English universities….At Oxford and Cambridge, individual colleges followed their own idiosyncratic paths with little to guide them apart from their own statutes, which were at least two centuries out of date, as were the syllabuses that the universities prescribed for their students to study.
Moreover, there seemed to be precious little actual studying going on, with gambling, drinking, and carousing generally taking precedence. I know – you’re thinking, so what else is new? Still. one does have a certain image in mind of the two above named institutions of higher learning, and the goings on described in Taylor’s novel do not fit in with that image.
As for the town, it comes across as little better than a cesspit:
Holdsworth plunged into a dark and narrow street running to the south. Out of necessity he walked slowly. There were fewer people here and fewer lights, but the buildings pressed in on either side and the air seemed no cooler. The alley was cobbled, with a gully running down the middle. The stench was very bad. Heaps of refuse oozed across the footpath. There was a constant pattering and scuffling of rats, and every now and then he glimpsed their scurrying long-tailed shadows.
As you can see from the above, Andrew Taylor does a marvelous job of evoking the time and place of which he writes. I’ve often said of both histories and historical fiction: Transport me there! This the author has done, in a convincing and compelling manner.
I always feel that detailed descriptions of specifics are a great aid in making the past come alive. That’s particular true where food is concerned:
Dinner on Sunday was a lengthy affair, and one that had an air of celebration. They began with fresh salmon boiled and garnished with fried smelts, anchovy sauce and shrimps, with a calf’s head. chicken pie and a chine of roast mutton. The second course involved a haunch of venison with gravy sauce and currant jelly. There were also collared eels, a green goose, lobsters and tarts.
Well, gosh….Perhaps we should add gluttony to the list of besetting sins of the era.
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When I finished this novel, I called out to my husband: “I just loved this book!” I then realized that it had been quite some time since I’ve felt that way about a contemporary work of fiction. This is one of the reasons I’ve been reading so much new nonfiction. In fact, I’ve just started Laura J. Snyder’s The Philosophical Breakfast Club. This work is subtitled, “Four Remarkable Friends Who Transformed Science and Changed the World.” These four were William Whewell, Charles Babbage, Richard Jones, and John Herschel; they formed their club in the early nineteenth century, when they were students at…you guessed it: Cambridge. So I’m having a pleasant feeling of appropriate follow-up as I once again encounter terms first seen by me in The Anatomy of Ghosts. Two examples that come to mind are “sizar” – defined in Wikipedia as “…a student who receives some form of assistance such as meals, lower fees or lodging during his or her period of study, in some cases in return for doing a defined job”- and “fellow-commoner.” (A map and a list of the main characters are provided at the front of this novel; a glossary would have been similarly helpful.)
From what I’ve read thus far, I gather that one of the aims of the Philosophical Breakfast Club was to rectify the just the sort of curricular backwardness alluded to above.
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Our tour group is scheduled to meet with Andrew Taylor next month at Speech House in the Royal Forest of Dean in Gloucestershire. Ron and I met him at that same venue during our 2006 Smithsonian Tour. In this picture below, I am bemoaning to the author the fact that the novels in the acclaimed Lydmouth series are not in print in the U.S. (As far as I can tell, this situation has still not been remedied.):
In preparation for the upcoming trip, I just reread the first Lydmouth novel, An Air that Kills. I liked it even more this time around. 
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Here’s a promotional video for The Anatomy of Ghosts:
My final word: this is the best historical novel I’ve read since Wolf Hall. A wonderful book by a wonderful writer.
Laurie R King at the Howard County Library, and some further Sherlockian points of interest
This past Friday night, Laurie R King gave a talk at the East Columbia Branch of the Howard County Library. Area crime fiction fans had been awaiting Ms King’s appearance for some time now; in the event, we were not disappointed. Ms King was lively, frank, and witty.
After her opening remarks, the author read a short selection from the newest book in the Mary Russell/Sherlock Holmes series, The God of the Hive. She prefaced her reading with two pieces of information: first, that in this novel, she employs multiple points of view; and second, that Holmes and Russell are not, at this point, together. First we find ourselves on board ship with Holmes and a wounded man by the name of Damian Adler. This brief passage was followed by one featuring Mary Russell and a little girl. Not surprisingly, all parties appear to be fleeing some sort of danger.
King talked about the origin of the character Mary Russell. As she says on her website, “Mary Russell walked into my life with the first line of The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, and took over.” When asked about Mary’s extreme youth – she is fifteen at the time that Beekeeper opens – King blithely answered, “That’s how old she was [presumably when she first took up residence in the author's imagination]. Same answer for the query as to why Mary Russell is Jewish, although there is some background here: Laurie R King holds an MA degree in theology, with a special interest in the Old Testament.
What about the considerable age difference between Mary Russell and Sherlock Holmes? King made an interesting observation here. She reminded us that World War One decimated the population of young men in Britain, leaving so-called “surplus women” with very few viable marriage prospects. Because of this dire situation, a number of these women chose to marry available older men. During the war, Mary Russell was at Oxford, normally a male-dominated environment. But the young men she might have met and been attracted to were not there; they were in the trenches in Europe. (It should also be noted that the author was for many years married to a professor, Dr. Noel King, who was thirty years her senior. She was widowed last year.)
King spoke of the pleasure of writing historical fiction – the past provides universal reference points; knowledge of that past offers a better understanding of the present era. Her attachment to Britain is vital and ongoing; she regularly visits family there. Pauline, of our mystery discussion group the Usual Suspects, was present on this occasion. She hails from England herself and took the opportunity Friday night of assuring Laurie King that she got the landscape of the Sussex Downs exactly right. (Pauline recently led us in a discussion of The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, which our group read in honor of Ms King’s forthcoming visit.)
What about the conceit of the mysterious trunk and its contents? King smiled broadly, telling us that this invention was in keeping with the idea that a real character, namely Mary Russell herself, actually wrote the books about her adventures with Sherlock Holmes. Just as so many readers like to believe in the reality of Holmes, this gives them a chance to believe equally in the reality of Mary Russell!
As for the moment in history at which King begins her saga, it too was chosen deliberately. Conan Doyle did not set any of the Holmes stories during or beyond the First World War. This is precisely when Laurie King picks up his story. Here’s what she states on her website:
Conan Doyle’s stories cease to be set after the beginning of the Great War (he wrote stories after 1914, but they were invariably set long before) because that war killed off the world that was Sherlock Holmes. In the Russell stories, I look at what Holmes might have looked like after that huge change in his society. I honor and respect the character, and his creator, at all times, even when I tweak them for their male posturing and pretensions. Imitation may or may not be the sincerest form of flattery, but it is certainly a form of love.
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During our recent discussion of The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, Frances, our resident Sherlockian and member of Watson’s Tin Box (“a Scion Society of the Baker Street Irregulars”), brought this recent publication to our attention: 
This lively volume is filled with fascinating information, from the life Conan Doyle, the origins of the stories, background as to time and place, the supporting cast of characters, to the stories’ impressive afterlife in print, film, and television. Here’s what the authors say about the Mary Russell series:
‘Despite the improbability of the romance, or perhaps because of it, King’s books have attracted a legion of fans who now write their own pastiches of the series.
I particularly enjoyed the section on the landmark Grenada Television films. Producer Michael Cox was determined to be as faithful to the original tales as possible. He and his time began by scrutinizing all sixty of them for the minutest details of time, place, and character traits. The end product of these efforts was The Baker Street File: A Guide to the Appearance and Habits of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson.
It is impossible to watch these films and not be awed by their superb production values. But it would have been an empty exercise without the right actor for the starring role. In casting Jeremy Brett as the Great Detective, Cox and company struck gold:
‘Brett’s performance came like a thunderclap to viewers used to the traditional interpretation of Holmes. Whereas previous Sherlocks tended to fix on individual characteristics of Holmes’s complex personality, Brett presented the full character, warts and all. Not only did Brett’s performance finally replace [Basil] Rathbone’s as Sherlock Holmes in the public mind, but it also changed the public’s understanding of Holmes. No longer was Sherlock a stuffy old-fashioned straight arrow, saying, “Elementary, my dear Watson,” while being followed around by a doddering old duffer. No, Brett’s Holmes was mesmerizing, brilliant, moody, drug-abusing, and, to be honest, a bit scary.
Here’s a clip from A Scandal in Bohemia. Watson is played by David Burke:
I was thrilled to find this rare film footage of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. In it, he talks about what inspired him to create Sherlock Holmes:
On the Mystery Lovers’ Tour of England and Scotland that we took in 2007, we visited the Royal College of Surgeons in Edinburgh. Initially, we weren’t sure why we were being taken to this particular venue. but as usual, our guides had made a brilliant choice. Once there, we were addressed by Dr. Alan Mackaill, who showed us around a permanent exhibit in the Surgeons’ Hall Museum entitled “The Real Sherlock Holmes.” Dr. Mackaill is the co-author of the book that accompanies this exhibit: 
. The gentleman on the right is the legendary Dr. Joseph Bell. On the back of this book, a letter is reproduced. It is on loan to the museum from the Stisted family, who are directed descendants of Dr. Bell. The letter is from Conan Doyle to Bell, and in it, the former states:
“It is most certainly to you that I owe Sherlock Holmes, and though in the tories I have the advantage of being able to place him in all sorts of dramatic positions I do not think that his analytical work is in the least an exaggeration of some effects which I have seen you produce in the outpatient ward.”
Here is the letter: 
My husband and I both recall Dr. Mackaill’s saying that he himself discovered this letter among the documents shown him by the Stisted family. I have not, however, been able to verify this, after the fact.
Click here to see video of Dr. Mackaill giving Scottish actor David Hayman a tour similar to the one he gave our group.
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After her talk, Laurie King stayed on to sign books for attendees. Throughout, she was unfailingly gracious and good-humored. She told us that she wanted to highlight libraries during this book tour. Here she is, on yet another occasion, doing just that.
Wolf Hall sequel in the pipeline!
You (might have) heard it here first: Hilary Mantel is at work on a sequel to Wolf Hall. The title, at least as of this writing, is The Mirror and the Light. This news gleaned from an interview with Kathryn Hughes in the December/January issue of Literary Review.
I didn’t mention it in my own review, but Wolf Hall‘s narrative ends more or less in medias res, so while I’m delighted by the news of a follow-up in progress, I’m not altogether surprised.
Here’s video of the author discussing her Man Booker Prize winning novel:
‘The harvest is getting in. The nights are violet and the comet shines over the stubble fields. The huntsmen call in the dogs.’ – Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel
What a feat Hilary Mantel has pulled off with her Man Booker Prize winning novel! In Wolf Hall the author conjures up a world so compelling that once you’re drawn in, it is hard to get out. And you may want to get out at times, because this is a world that is at once dazzling and dangerous, fascinating and forbidding, lavish and cruel – very cruel indeed.
England, early 1500′s. We are at the court of King Henry VIII. The king is trying to rid himself of his current wife Katherine of Aragon, so that he may marry his current love, Anne Boleyn, who might possibly provide him with the male heir he desires. The principal character in this drama is Thomas Cromwell. When we first meet him, he is being beaten mercilessly by his lout of a father. Not to worry – Thomas can take it – and then some. It’s partly his ability to roll with the punches, and even more importantly, to see them coming, that facilitates his rise at court. He begins in the service of the all-powerful Cardinal Wolsey. Wolsey provides the entrée Thomas needs. From there his star continues to ascend.
Cromwell’s home life is as interesting as his life at court. His household is a cacophonous mixture of immediate family, extended family, old retainers and new proteges. As if that were not enough, he is daily besieged by those seeking some kind of preferment:
‘There are artists looking for a subject. There are solemn Dutch scholars with books under their arms, and Lubeck merchants unwinding at length solemn Germanic jokes; there are musicians in transit tuning up strange instruments, and noisy conclaves of agents for the Italian banks; there are alchemists offering recipes and astrologers offering favorable fates, and lonely Polish fur traders who’ve wandered by to see if someone speaks their langauge; there are printers, engravers, translators and cipherers; and poets, garden designers, cabalists and geometricians.
Cromwell lives in a place called Austin Friars, a little world unto itself. It tries to be a bastion of comfort set against the outside world, yet it is nonetheless stalked by death. This was true of every dwelling place, high or low, in that perilous time. Life hung by the slimmest of threads and was easily and arbitrarily cut.
As I was nearing the end of Wolf Hall, a new biography of Thomas Cromwell came to my attention. I was initially pleased at this confluence of subject matter, but upon reading author Robert Hutchinson’s introduction, my pleasure changed to dismay. The author makes his subject out to be the most dreadful man imaginable. No, no, I wanted to cry out, not so! He was a complicated person, made up of diverse elements. True he could be steely and ruthless, but the times called for it. Moreover, he could also be extremely compassionate and generous. So – which is the revisionist portrait? At this point I could not say. I only know that the Thomas Cromwell of Wolf Hall leaped off the page and became someone I knew and utterly believed to be real. Have I been seduced by an artful fiction? Perhaps…
Much of the sheer wonder of this novel comes from Hilary Mantel’s marvelous writing. Here she describes a world gone suddenly quiet:
‘He remembers one night in summer when the footballers had stood silent, looking up. It was dusk. The note from a single recorder wavered in the air, thin and piercing. A blackbird picked up the note, and sang from a bush by the water gate. A boatman whistled back from the river.
At other times, a riotous celebration – in this case, the Feast of Epiphany:
‘The night is loud with the noise of bone rattles, and alive with the flames of torches. A troop of hobby horses clatter past them, singing, and a party of men wearing antlers, with bells at their heels. As they near home a boy dressed as an orange rolls past, with his friend, a lemon.
Often I hear of people giving thumbs down to a work of fiction because in the course of their reading, they had not encountered a single likeable character. Wolf Hall presents a crowded canvas; its characters act in ways that can variously be described as gracious, gallant, playful, repugnant, cruel. For the most part, no one person behaves the same way all the time. To be blunt, I had the hardest time with the burning of heretics. Incredibly, even more horrific ways of torturing and killing people – on behalf of church and state! – had been devised. I decline to describe them here; so, for the most part, does Mantel. The incidents to which I refer are not all that frequent, but when they do happen, you want to turn away. It made me angry, this unmitigated cruelty, sanctioned cruelty, done in the name of religion. Hilary Mantel is economical, yet pitiless, when she writes of it:
‘At Smithfield Frith is being shoveled up, his youth, his grace, his learning and his beauty: a compaction of mud, grease, charred bone.
While this horror is being brought to fruition, King Henry is out riding on a favorite mount.
I know that such things happened in that time and place. All the same, at that moment I thoroughly despised Henry, his henchman, his hangers-on – the lot of them! I despised them all. And that includes – most definitely! – that arch manipulator, that ruthless little schemer, Anne Boleyn.
Well. Time to pull back. Wolf Hall was a wild and harrowing ride, but ultimately a fantastic read. There is much to compensate for the burning of John Frith (though it’s something I’ll never forget, or forgive). There are moments of lightheartedness, even of humor, though these tend to have a sinister edge to them. When Cromwell returns to Austin Friars after meeting Anne Boleyn for this first time, the women of his household besiege him with questions. At length one of them, Mercy, asks if Anne has good teeth. An exasperated Cromwell responds “‘For God’s sake, woman: when she sinks them into me, I’ll let you know.’”
In one of my favorite scenes, Cromwell’s son Gregory is brimming with excitement over his current reading matter: the legends of King Arthur and his knights. He can’t wait to share his enthusiasm with his father:
“‘Our king takes his descent from this Arthur. He was never really dead but waited in the forest biding his time, or possibly in a lake. He is several centuries old. Merlin is a wizard. He comes later.You will see. There are twenty-one chapters. If it keeps on raining I mean to read them all. Some of these things are true and some of them lies. But they are all good stories.’
Well said, young Gregory; well said.
Hilary Mantel, author of Wolf Hall
I have just finished a terrific novel: Land of Marvels by Barry Unsworth
Mesopotamia, 1914. John Somerville is a British archaeologist excavating at a site called Tell Erdek. His assistant is Palmer, who at the tender age of twenty-seven is already an expert on Assyrian and Sumerian inscriptions. Also making up the party is Patricia, a graduate student. They all anticipate a momentous find at this site.
Somerville’s wife Edith is also present but spends most of her time back at the expedition house, seeing to the comfort of her husband and the others. She seems the very emblem of a traditional wife – but appearances are deceiving. Circumstances change, and people change along with them. Their values, even their natures, alter. In some cases, they end by becoming more like their true selves.
Other individuals cycle through the expedition house. The ethic of the time and place requires that they be offered hospitality, whatever the purpose of their journey may be. Sometimes that purpose is just what it seems, as is the case with the Johanssons, a Swedish couple traveling on behalf of The Society for Biblical Research. I like the way Unsworth describes the husband:
“Johansson had a slow and weighty manner and a heavy, crumpled-looking face, rather appealing, with some fugitive likeness to a teddy bear in it, one that had been knocked about a bit but not in any spirit of malice.
Other visitors have more sinister reasons for turning up at the dig. These individuals attempt to conceal their true agendas beneath a convivial veneer, succeeding only partially in this effort.
Then there is Jehar, a young man in Somerville’s employ. Jehar serves as an interpreter and also as a valuable source of information concerning developments in the immediate environs. Unbeknown to Somerville and his group, Jehar has an agenda of his own: he cherishes an obsessive ardor for a beautiful young woman from a nearby village. He woos her with stories:
“He described the town to Ninanna, the green islet in the midst of the stream, the permanent bridge that went from one bank to the other, the six white minarets that rose above the roofs of the houses, the great mass of gardens and palm groves and cultivated fields that extended along the river for many miles to the east. Memory and invention combined with love to make him eloquent.
Jehar is describing a kind of paradise, which he hopes that he and Ninanna will one day inhabit together. But his tales are by no means solely concerned with idyllic episodes. One of them, about a powerful desire that proves both insatiable and unquenchable, is told so vividly and ends so horrifically that I could not stop thinking about it for days afterward.
Land of Marvels is rich in details about the geopolitics of the region and its ancient and mysterious past, and also about the processes of archaeological and geological exploration. I was trying to think of other novelists who likewise make confident assumptions about readers’ intelligence. Two names came to mind: Ian McEwan and Anita Brookner.
The characters in this novel are not all likable, but they are all in varying degree interesting. Gradually tension builds among them. Everyone knows part of what is going on; no one knows the whole story. As I read on, I became increasingly convinced that some cataclysm awaited these people. But what ? and when? As I approached the final phase of the narrative, the tension became so great that I could only read a few pages at a time. I felt as though I were literally gasping for air! Among its other virtues, Land of Marvels served as a reminder to me that “suspense” is not a genre but a quality that inheres in any skillfully crafted narrative. In addition to his command of a beautifully precise prose style, Barry Unsworth is a master of the storytelling art.
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In addition to Land of Marvels, I recommend this novel of medieval England: 
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Barry Unsworth
It might interest you to know…recent gleanings from newspapers, magazines, and online sources
Let’s start with this hopeful item in today’s Washington Post: “Unexpected Twist: Fiction Reading Is Up,” by Bob Thompson. Well, yay – but with reservations, naturally. The article concerns a new report from the National Endowment for the Arts entitled “Reading on the Rise: A New Chapter in American Literacy.” The report contains the inevitable mix of good and not-so-good news. As for the article itself, I found this hasty reassurance somewhat irritating: “…it’s important to know that ‘literary’ isn’t meant to imply ‘highbrow.’” Gosh, what a relief; I would hate to think that I had to read The Great Gatsby or a Willa Cather novel in order to be counted among the literate – sigh… On the other hand, works from genre fiction are figured into the survey and furthermore, it is observed that “Mysteries emerged this year as the most popular genre.” No comment, it being rude to gloat! Unfortunately, nonfiction reading does not count, and that really is a shame, as that’s where some of the best writing is, IMHO.
Dana Gioia, outgoing chairman of the NEA, has been a wonderful advocate for literature. The Big Read, whose stated purpose is “to restore reading to the center of American culture,” is among the initiatives he promoted. I like the variety and quality of the works focused on by this program. Audio guides on CD that accompany these selections are available at the Howard County Library. I listened to the guides for The Death of Ivan Ilyich and The Age of Innocence and found the experience to be an enjoyable, if abbreviated, way of revisiting some of my favorite classics. (Search for these CD’s under “Big Read” as a series title.)
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Sarah Weinman recently authored a four part feature on historical mysteries for the Barnes & Noble Review. In Part One, Weinman credits the works of Ellis Peters as having been the springboard for the the current popularity of this subgenre. If you haven’t read the Brother Cadfael novels, give yourself a treat and pick one up. Then watch the DVD’s in which Sir Derek Jacobi brings the sleuthing monk (monkish sleuth?) memorably to life.*
Ellis Peters and Sir Derek Jacobi
Still in Part One, Weinman proceeds to discuss mysteries set in ancient times. The first author she singles out for praise is one of my favorites, Steven Saylor, author of the Roma sub Rosa series featuring Gordianus the Finder. In Part Two, she covers medieval times; in Part Three, the 19th century; and in Part Four, the first half of the 20th century.
I was pleased to note that at the end of this last installment, Weinman mentions Eric Ambler, whose Coffin for Dimitrios, written in 1938, is still one of the best novels of suspense that I have ever read.
Taken together, these four articles are rich with reading suggestions. Sarah Weinman writes beautifully. If you’re a book lover, and especially if those books tend to be mysteries, you should be regularly checking her blog, Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind. Just yesterday I found there a link to an article from the Wall Street Journal about books of note to be published in the coming year. Admirers of the fiction of Anne Tyler – and I certainly count myself among their number – will be delighted by the news of her upcoming novel.
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I’m having a great time working my way through this collection, which is compiled by the American Society of Magazine Editors and published by the Columbia University Press. Several of the articles I’ve particularly enjoyed are available online, so here goes:
“China’s Instant Cities,” written by Peter Hessler and published by National Geographic. This piece won in the reporting category.
“The Black Sites,” written by Jane Mayer and published by The New Yorker. This article, a finalist in the reporting category, is a powerful and very disturbing look at the interrogation methods employed by the CIA since the 9/11 attacks.
“Specialist Town Takes His Case to Washington,” by Joshua Kors for The Nation. This piece, the winner in the public interest category, had me thoroughly vexed and spluttering with outrage.
“‘You Have Thousands of Angels Around You,’” by Paige Williams for Atlanta Magazine. One of the good things about this anthology is that brings to your attention worthy articles from publications you wouldn’t ordinarily read – like the various city magazines. This article, winner in the feature writing category, contains both the best and the worst of humanity. I was tremendously moved by this story of a teen-aged immigrant from war torn Burundi.
In my youth, I was a fan of Rolling Stone. I haven’t looked at an issue in some time, so I forgot what it’s like to read a periodical that most decidedly does not style itself as a “family newspaper.” Thus I approached Matt Taibbi’s “Obama’s Moment,” the winner in Columns and Commentary, with some trepidation. Just how vulgar would the vocabulary be – how snarky the attitude? None of it mattered – with its pull-no-punches, utterly irreverent salvos, I loved Taibbi’s piece! Here’s a sample sentence: “In person, Obama is a dynamic, handsome, virile presence, a stark contrast to the bloated hairy s–tbags we usually elect to positions of power in this country.” Okay, a bit over the top – but exhilarating and entertaining nonetheless. (And please pardon the dashes; I guess I’d like to think of this as a “family-friendly” blog!) I was surprised that “Obama’s Moment” was posted in late December of 2007, as it contains some very prescient observations. Taibbi mentions the “whiff of destiny” that seemed to swirl around Obama. And how.
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There are two articles in the December 2008 issue of The New Republic that I liked a great deal. One is “Why Mantegna Matters,” by Keith Christiansen. Christiansen is currently curator of European Paintings at one of my favorite places on the planet, The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. I particularly appreciated Christiansen’s comments on this astonishing image:
Lamentation Over the Dead Christ (1470-75), Andrea Mantegna
The second piece I commend to you with reservations because it’s a heartbreaker: “Going Under,” by Jason Zengerle. As I read this story of a gifted young doctor’s downward spiral, I thought once again of the lines from Julius Caesar: “If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.”
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Finally, we haven’t been to a movie theater in ages, but “A One-Man Movement” by Sarah Kaufman in Sunday’s Washington Post made me want to go. Focusing on the great Cary Grant, Kaufman offers insightful commentary on his acting in particular, then on film acting in general. Over the years, many fine writers have tackled film as their subject. For my money, though, this is one of the most astutely observed, concisely written pieces of film commentary you’re likely to encounter for quite some time.
Here is Kaufman on one of the opening scenes in North by Northwest:
“There’s a relaxed, easy give in Grant’s body as he moves, and as he leans toward his secretary while he speaks to her–he’s so very pleased with his own labors, and yet so exquisitely courteous to his assistant. A nice guy, and smooth as whiskey, too. He’s getting further under our skin with every move.
Cary Grant in North by Northwest
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*See Kerrie’s lively commentary on A Morbid Taste for Bones (first in the Cadfael series) on her blog Mysteries in Paradise.
The Year in Mystery: Group One, Part Two
Stranger in Paradise by Robert B. Parker. I have a lingering affection for this author, though I usually stick to his (incredibly long-running) Spenser series. In the past,I haven’t cared for the Jesse Stone novels, finding them too touchy-feely. As it happened, though, my husband and I were very much liking the made for TV films, which feature Tom Selleck as Stone, a role he seems born to play. Hence, my decision to read Stranger in Paradise, which I quite enjoyed. This enjoyment was somewhat enhanced by having Tom Selleck in my mind’s eye for much of the time I was reading!
Chat by Archer Mayor. I love Mayor’s straight-ahead, unadorned prose style and his exceptionally appealing protagonist, Joe Gunther. This series also features a vividly rendered ensemble cast of law enforcement officers.
Blue Heaven by C.J. Box. The author manages to keep you on the edge of your seat throughout the narrative; you’ll be chewing your fingernails as you agonize over the fate of a seriously imperiled but amazingly courageous and resourceful 13-year-old girl. Definitely a candidate for my “thriller with brains” designation!
Friend of the Devil by Peter Robinson. I’ve read every one of the Alan Banks novels, and what a pleasure it has been watching this author go from strength to strength in this outstanding series. The latest, All the Colors of Darkness, can now be reserved at our local library.
City of Fire by Robert Ellis. Setting: southern California. Where else, with a title like that? Homicide Detective Lena Gamble is one of the lead investigators in this fast-moving tale of multiple murder and its far-reaching consequences. Ellis is an author new to me, but I’d certainly read more of his work. A commenter on my review said that City of Fire was the best book he read in 2007. ( I read it in January of this year.)
Mistress of the Art of Death by Ariana Franklin. I forgot to include this title in my discussion of historical mysteries I enjoyed this year. I had some initial reservations about the premise of this novel, but I got swept up in the story and fell utterly in love with Franklin’s feisty protagonist, the splendidly named Vesuvia Adelia Rachel Ortese Aguilar.
And now, two classics and three pleasant surprises.
This year I went back to two of my favorite crime fiction greats of the past, Georges Simenon and Ross MacDonald. Both are masters at creating atmospheric thrillers shot through with crisp, no-nonsense dialogue; both follow the rules of the conventional forms in which they write while at the same time subtly pushing against the boundaries of those same forms. How can formulaic writing be so compelling? I can’t explain it, and it’s just as well that I don’t even try:
Georges Simenon
Ross MacDonald
As for the pleasant surprises:
The Skeleton in the Closet by M.C. Beaton. I grabbed this book on tape – yes, tape, that finicky old technology! -off the shelf at the Central Library with no idea what it was about. Set in a village in the Cotswolds, a place almost too dreamily English to be real, Skeleton is not an especially compelling mystery. It is, however, an utterly enchanting love story, read by the eminently listenable Donada Peters. I commend it to you warmly!
I also listened to Lawrence Block’s Hit Parade. Block is one of the reigning masters of American crime fiction. At one time, I was a huge fan of this author’s Matt Scudder series. Those books, a chronicle of one man’s struggle to be a good person, are utterly gripping and tend to be quite somber in tone. I knew we’d be seeing Block at Bouchercon, where he was to be honored for distinguished contribution to the mystery genre. I was intrigued by this prolific author’s new series featuring John Keller. Keller flies all over the country carrying out various commissions while Dot, his business partner, stays home in White Plains. It’s a business much like any other – except that Keller is a professional hit man! Hit Parade was read by the author, with appropriate sardonic inflection. I haven’t come across fiction this deliciously subversive in years.
Here’s Block being interviewed by Charles Ardai at Bouchercon. (You can’t tell from this video snippet but the room was packed.)
And here’s the author discussing his latest creation at a book signing.
Ash Wednesday by Ralph McInerny. This author’s Father Dowling novels now number twenty-six; there’s also one story collection and another on the way. I hadn’t read one of these in a while and had forgotten how much I enjoy McInerny’s delicious low-key wit. Under the guise of a cozy set in a gossipy small town in Indiana, Ash Wednesday manages to examine some genuinely provocative moral and spiritual issues. And what the heck, it’s just plain fun to hang out with the wise, witty, self-effacing Father Dowling and his prickly housekeeper Marie Murkin.
Next – when I can get to it, what with wrapping presents, sending cards, etc. – Group Two: the creme de la creme of my mystery reading year!
The year in Mystery: Favorites, Group One, Part One
As with fiction, I’m going to divide these titles onto two groups: first, those that I thoroughly enjoyed and would readily recommend, and second, those that were, in a word, superb.
I feel that there was a great deal to cheer about this year where mysteries are concerned. As I delved into the archives for 2008, I couldn’t help but marvel at all the terrific reads I’ve encountered this year. Almost all the authors I’m getting ready to praise are those whose work I’ve read before. Am I conservative about trying new (to me) writers in this genre? Oh yes. I have to be, you see, in order to keep from being completely overwhelmed!
So – without further ado – Group One, Part One:
Thunder Bay by William Krueger. Krueger was one of several people that I missed seeing at Bouchercon (so many authors/ reviewers/editors, so little time). This book was nominated for an Anthony but lost to Laura Lippman’s What the Dead Know. Lippman’s novel was outstanding, to be sure, but in this contest, I was rooting for Thunder Bay. More readers need to become familiar with Krueger’s fine work. His books are set in the Iron Range of northern Minnesota, and his sympathetic portrayal of Native Americans (in this case, the Ojibwe) calls to mind the work of the late, greatly lamented Tony Hillerman.
Tony Hillerman, May 27, 1925 - October 26, 2008
Last Post by Robert Barnard. I read this a while ago and don’t have a very specific memory of it, but I’ve been a fan of Barnard’s for many years now. I know few other authors whose novels delight me so reliably and consistently. In addition to Last Post, I’d like to recommend an earlier work by Barnard, Death by Sheer Torture. It’s a hugely entertaining riff on the beloved (by me, anyway) English Country House Murder subgenre.
The Accomplice by Elizabeth Ironside. I was pleasantly surprised by this intense, gracefully written novel. I say that because I wasn’t a great fan of this author’s Death in the Garden.
When Will There Be Good News? by Kate Atkinson. True, I wasn’t as wild about it as some reviewers were, and I don’t think it’s in the same league with the stellar Case Histories. But Atkinson is an inventive, witty, empathetic writer, so there was much in this novel to enjoy and appreciate.
The Miracle at Speedy Motors by Alexander McCall Smith. This author is astonishingly prolific. Might he be, possibly, too prolific? I’ve been worried lately that McCall Smith is suffering from media overexposure. Still, that possibility does not detract one iota from his stellar accomplishments in the field of crime fiction. I’m a huge fan, both of Precious Ramotswe and Isabel Dalhousie
Once a Biker by Peter Turnbull. I know that I can depend on Peter Turnbull for a good, solid police procedural in the durable British style. (And I’m currently behind in this series by two books – yay!) It’s a wonderful bonus that his Hennessey-Yellich series is set in York, surely one of the world’s most magical cities. I love reading about ancient walls, bars, snickelways, and the shambles – I’ve been there!!
Headhunters by Peter Lovesey. Lovesey is yet another favorite author of procedurals. Lately, he’s been de-emphasizing long time series protagonist Peter Diamond while bringing Henrietta “Hen” Mallin of the West Sussex Constabulary to the fore. These books are exceptionally well written and cunningly plotted; they also have a great sense of place. Diamond was with the Force in Bath; Headhunters takes place on England’s South Coast. It’s a great setting, and a great story.
The Price of Butcher’s Meat by Reginald Hill. Please don’t be put off by the atrocious title. On the other hand, I would not advise tackling this book if you are not already familiar with the Dalziel and Pascoe novels. I’m currently working up a post reviewing this latest series entry; I’ll also be talking about the series as a whole. Meanwhile, if you want to get started, I suggest Ruling Passion (1973), Bones and Silence, which won the CWA Gold Dagger in 1990, The Wood Beyond (1995), or On Beulah Height (1998). I’ll’ say it right out, right here: Reginald Hill is one of my all time favorite writers in any genre.
Waterloo Sunset by Martin Edwards. I entitled my post on this highly entertaining novel ” ‘Another Place:’ or, Liverpool Revealed.” It was revealed to me, at any rate, as a city well worth getting to know. Martin Edwards’s latest, Dancing for the Hangman, has been recently published in the UK, to excellent reviews. In Hangman, an historical novel, the author tackles the notorious case of Hawley Harvey Crippen. (Meanwhile, we fans of the Lake District novels featuring Daniel Kind and Hannah Scarlett eagerly – anxiously? - await the fourth entry in that fine series.) Martin Edwards also has a blog, Do You Write Under Your Own Name, that’s well worth checking out.
I read and enjoyed three historical mysteries this year: The Pale Blue Eye by Louis Bayard, The Triumph of Caesar by Steven Saylor, and The Lost Luggage Porter by Andrew Martin. I’ve read every entry in Steven Saylor’s Roma sub Rosa series. I find his re-creation of ancient Rome fascinating and convincing. Saylor’s knowledge of that period of history is encyclopedic, but his research never obtrudes; his narratives are lively and thoroughly engrossing.
As for The Lost Luggage Porter – well, this slim little volume was a real find. Return with Andrew Martin to the north of England as it was a century ago. Get deep inside the railway culture of the times with detective Jim Stringer as he goes undercover in order to catch a thief – or rather, a ring of thieves. Clutching his Railway Police Manual, the appealing, all-too-human Stringer is alternately bold and terrified – sometimes both at the same time! I loved this author’s writing; he makes use of the slightly antiquated diction that I find so effective and convincing in historical fiction. (The Lost Luggage Porter is the third in a series that’s appearing in the U.S. in a somewhat erratic order. The trade paperbacks feature an exceptionally appealing design – to be appreciated if and when you can get hold of them!)
While we’re on the subject, Peter Lovesey has penned some excellent historical mysteries. He’s the author of the Sergeant Cribb series, set in mid-Victorian Britain and every bit as evocative of the period as the novels of Anne Perry. And I especially recommend Rough Cider, whose setting alternates between 1964 and in wartime England (1943).
That’s it for Group One, Part One. Stay tuned for Group One Part Two, to be followed – and I’m not saying how swiftly! – by Group Two.
“Tales of Mystery and Imagination” – The enduring legacy of Edgar Allan Poe
No song title here – just a straightforward acknowledgment of Poe’s supreme importance to the history of crime fiction.
The panel consisted of:
Daniel Stashower
Louis Bayard
Shelley Costa Bloomfield, PhD. [Photo not available] Dr. Costa Bloomfield teaches art and literature at the Cleveland Institute of Art. She is a scholar of crime fiction and has written several mystery short stories. She is also the author of 
She resides in Chagrin Falls, Ohio, which seems wonderfully appropriate, considering her area of specialization.
Edward Pettit, moderator
Pettit is a sort of Poe groupie (as you might surmise from the above picture). He maintains a blog on which, among other things, he champions the claim the city Philadelphia has to the furthering of Poe’s genius – and even to his remains! He rode this hobby horse humorously and enthusiastically throughout the session, as can be readily appreciated in this video excerpt.
This panel was like a really good college seminar, the kind that made you feel as though someone had opened the top of your head and was pouring great stuff – legal stuff! - into your brain. I was particularly delighted to see Louis Bayard, whose novel The Pale Blue Eye so powerfully evoked Poe’s brief tenure at West Point.
Bayard’s newest work, The Black Tower, is set in Paris and features Eugene Francois Vidocq as the main character. Bayard said that he had become familiar with Vidocq while doing research on Poe.
I first heard of the renowned – if at times, slippery! – founder of France’s Surete Nationale (now called Police Nationale) from Guilty Parties, the colorful survey of the history of crime fiction by the late Ian Ousby.
Bayard mentioned that Vidocq’s notoriously unreliable autobiography is one of the earliest examples we have of “truthiness in memoirs.”
Shelley Costa remarked on the breadth of Poe’s influence on subsequent authors of horror tales and detective fiction. It’s hard, she continued, to overemphasize Poe’s centrality to the history of American literature, despite the fact that his tales seem to float free of a specific time and place.
Daniel Stashower read Poe as a child and found, upon returning to his work as an adult, that it retained its power to thrill and terrify him. I am currently half way through Stashower’s book on Poe and the murder of Mary Rogers.
Panelists went to some lengths to correct the impression that Poe was a wild-eyed maniac, but from what I’ve read so far in The Beautiful Cigar Girl, he appears to have been unstable and erratic. His mood alternated between angry outrage and deep melancholy. Worst of all, he had a fatal weakness for alcohol, which he nonetheless could not stay away from. His feelings for his child bride Virginia were obsessive – “we loved with a love that was more than love…”
Poe was known to have been influenced by a multi-volume chronicle of true crime variously called the Newgate Calendar or Malefactor’s Bloody Register. Who wouldn’t be curious about a work so titled?!
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle readily acknowledged his debt to Edgar Allan Poe (Note the date at the bottom of this article):
!["Honor Poe in London" [click to enlarge]](http://robertarood.files.wordpress.com/2008/10/honor-poe-in-london1.jpg "honor-poe-in-london1")
New York Times March 2, 1909:
“You remind me of Edgar Allan Poe’s Dupin. I had no idea that such individuals did exist outside of stories.”
Sherlock Holmes rose and lit his cigarette. “No doubt you think that you are complimenting me in comparing me to Dupin,” he observed. “Now, in my opinion, Dupin was a very inferior fellow. That trick of his of breaking in on his friends’ thoughts with an apropos remark after a quarter of an hour’s silence is really very showy and superficial. He had some analytical genius, no doubt; but he was by no means such a phenomenon as Poe appeared to imagine.”
Two stories were singled out that I haven’t read and would now like to: “The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym” and “The Imp of the Perverse.” The latter apparently illustrates Poe’s unfortunate tendency to shoot himself in the foot with regard to his own best interests.
Louis Bayard stated that Poe was neither a naturalist or a realist. He was primarily interested in fugue states, or “dark symbolic constructs.” Marvelous locution, that, and illustrative of the bracingly high tenor of this panel discussion.
