Books – derrickjknight

Gentian Hill

This novel by Elizabeth Goudge is a story on many levels based largely in Devon during the time of Nelson and Bonaparte. It is a tale of instinctive romantic love; of consistent unselfish giving of oneself; of loyal adoption; and of genetic recognition; of intuitive identification; of generosity of spirit; of friendship formed in adversity; and of complete lack of empathy and extreme cruelty.

So well crafted is the work that it is not at first apparent that the backdrop is the earlier period of The Terror of the French Revolution and the part it played in the lives of the main protagonists. The overall triumph of survival in challenging circumstances is an underlying theme.

Contrasts between gentle bucolic country life and the harsh disciplined life of sailors on the open sea form a key part of the narrative, as do those concerning class and breeding, and of different spheres of Christianity.

Goudge’s elegant descriptive prose engaging all the senses is at its best, whether featuring inland or coastline scenes or the various action sequences. “[dawn] came quite soon, with its inevitable quickening and reassurance, and the interpenetration of light an sound and scent by each other that one seems to notice only in moments of deep piece. The crying of the awakening gulls, the soft slap of the sea against the harbour wall, the running of the stream, the sound of an opening door and a voice singing, a church clock striking the hour, made a music that was a part of the growing pearly light. There was a faint scent if seaweed, of baking bread, and that indescribable fresh smell of the dawn compounded of dew-drenched flowers, wood-smoke and wet fields…..” is an example of this scenic range. “…..he was enduring the punishment meted out to midshipmen who sleep on watch. He was lashed in the weather rigging, his arms and legs widely stretched, his head burning, his body shivering from the bucketful of cold water that had been emptied over him, every nerve in him stretched to what felt like breaking point, and in his heart black rebellion, fury and despair. For he had been treated with the most shocking injustice…..” demonstrates the cruelty; “….Hour after hour it went on, the work and discipline of the wounded ships functioning all the while with order and purpose. Men toiled at the guns, in the magazines, in the rigging, carrying the wounded, flinging the dead and dying overboard, running messages, repairing under-water timbers….” the toil of battle.

There is good use of simile and metaphor, as in “He could disappear with the ease of a shadow when the sun goes in”; “he had been like a tortoise on its back, immovable but vulnerable and inviting prodding”; “that nauseating smell of unwashed bodies and filthy clothes that is the very breath of poverty”.

With intimate knowledge, our author closely observes her human characters and their animals with equal accuracy. “His eyes were his father’s, tawny and somewhat stern, but there was great sweetness of expression about the mouth. He had a character of the utmost nobility; he was wise, brave, loving, loyal, patient, chivalrous, and fastidious in his personal habits.” Which would this be?

She has good command of dialogue and natural accents.

She weaves in her usual references to Shakespeare and ancient myth and legend

My copy is a 1949 first edition published by Hodder and Stoughton inscribed to ‘Morag from Noel Jan 1950’.

Although the book jacket by J. Morton Sale was in raggedy unconnected bits it somehow managed to protect the front and back

boards for three quarters of a century. Note the preservation of blue in the gentian on the front.

These are the endpapers both front and back.

Having spent many hours watching Christopher Shaw restoring books on The Repair Shop, Jackie took great pleasure in applying his

techniques to repairing this jacket. You will see that she has pasted the parts onto a base sheet and created a spine. Study of the darkened spine in the first picture above shows by contrast how well the boards have been protected until now. Maybe, with the jacket wrapped in cellophane, they will continue for many more years to come.

This evening we dined on tasty baked gammon; piquant cheddar cheese and mustard sauce; boiled new potatoes; firm carrots and cauliflower with its chopped leaves; tender runner beans; and moist spinach, with which I drank more of the Malbec.

The Heart Of The Family

Gerard Manley Hopkins, a Jesuit priest now considered one of the greatest poets of the Victorian era, who produced beautifully descriptive philosophical sonnets inspired by his love of nature and his Christian faith; moving on to the so-called “terrible sonnets” of desolation, two of which, for example “No worst, there is none ….. speaking of “world-sorrow…….” from which comfort and even joy may ultimately be sought, as “all/ Life death does end and each day dies with sleep.”

Undoubtedly Elizabeth Goudge in her “The Heart of the Family” from 1953 was deeply influenced by Manley Hopkins as is reflected in her beautiful bucolic prose descriptions and her philosophical approach to the lives of her characters.

Shakespeare, too, is woven into her narrative with references to such as madness in Lear, jealousy in Othello, and joyful Midsummer Night’s Dream to name but a few. Just as the bard makes use of woodland in many of his plays so does Goudge in this book. Even the plant rue, commonly known as the Herb-of-Grace, is quoted in Hamlet; rue meaning remorse or regret, and The Herb of Grace being the hostelry so significant in our current work.

“The warm sun of the stormy August day was out again and beat down upon them. Here in the sheltered drive, with the rampart of the oak-trees between them and the marshes, they did not feel the wind from the sea. Through the wrought-iron gate in the wall the man could see the golden and orange glow of autumn flowers, the tall and gracious trees of an old and matured garden, and, beyond, the irregular roof of the house. ……. To the right the marshes had been splashed with colour like a painter’s palette; to the left, just at the corner of the lane that led down from the high-road, there had been cornfield bending beneath the wind. On the horizon he had seen the silver line of the sea and the estuary, with the cliffs of the Island beyond, at one moment hidden by the mists of driving rain, remote and far away, at the next leaping out under the sun in such clear distinctness that they looked like the longed-for Celestial Mountain at the end of the unending way. Then he had reached the harbour, with wild sea-asters growing beside the harbour wall and fishing-boats and yachts rocking peacefully at anchor. …… A swan had flown overhead, the rhythmic beating of its wings adding to the note of strength, and everywhere, in the wind and sun and rain, the gulls had been flying and calling……..” “The house smelled of flowers, furniture polish, baked apples, dog and tobacco” are just a few sections from the many elegantly descriptive prose paragraphs that display the author’s love of nature; her attention to the weather, to senses of sight, hearing, touch, and smell; her use of metaphor, simile, adjective and adverb, to draw the reader into her scene.

Her characters of all ages, especially young children, as in “The sheer ecstasy with which her booted feet came down in each puddle told of the depth of her capacity for happiness. …….” or older members of the household in “A door opened at the back of the hall, letting in light, and a woman came through it, a country body of immense size and immense charm. She advanced with a stately swaying motion, shifting her great weight from one foot to the other with a patient humorous determination that did not quite mask her fatigue…….” are touchingly presented with a deep knowledge of human nature and its complexities.

Each member of the family, for their different reasons and because of their varied experiences, including those of wartime, in the decade following the Second World War is suffering burning regret, remorse, and disappointment, yet hoping for joy and maybe happiness. Some carry unexpressed shame. Each is seeking truth and ultimately settling for contentment. Their deep Christian convictions affect how they manage powerful contrary desires. Clearly not all are identical in their struggles but I do not wish to publish spoilers, especially as a shared secret unknown to each of two participants emerges as an ultimate cathartic surprise.

A pivotal section of the book involves a pause at Knyghtwood forest en route to the group walking to The Herb of Grace. This is where Elizabeth Goudge adapts Shakespeare’s device of a significant woodland feature. Different couples and individuals make use of their own special places among the trees to relate and reflect.

I heartily recommend this insightful, heartwarming, and thought-provoking work.

Perhaps it is appropriate that the jacket of my Book Club Selection of 1955 has seen better days, yet still serves some protection to the browned pages within.

The storm still raged as we drove the short distance to Rokali’s for dinner this evening; when we returned the winds had dropped but the rain continued. I enjoyed my duck dhansak and two purees; Jackie chose chicken biriani. I drank Kingfisher and she drank Diet Coke. Well cooked food, friendly service, and welcome ambience were as good as always.

Gales And Drafting

The raging storm that will beset us for the whole weekend takes me back to

The Uses Of Enchantment

from ten years ago. On that particular October of 2014 the weather did calm later, presenting similar scenes to those we experience at the moment, although respite will not come for a couple of days.

I am feeling much better after my BCG vaccine instillation and will be taking another day’s rest, fortunately enforced by the weather.

Today I finished reading “The Heart of the Family” and began drafting my review for completion tomorrow.

This evening we dined on succulent roast lamb; mint sauce; crisp Yorkshire pudding; boiled new potatoes; crunchy carrots; pure white cauliflower; flavoursome Brussels sprouts and tasty gravy with which I drank Collin-Bouriset Fleurie 2022

The Last Two

‘The Dream’ and ‘Greenshaw’s Folly’ are the last two of the Entrées in the Crime Club Choice selection of Agatha Christie’s 1973 stories in ‘The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding’.

The Author’s two most popular sleuths, Hercule Poirot and Jane Marple are therefore linked – one following the other among the pages. Each murder also involves the deception of fabricating a false identity exposed in the first case by the Belgian Detective, and in the second by a dear elderly aunt.

The Dream is a recurring nightmare related to Poirot by Benedict Farley and seemingly predicting his demise. The detective was flummoxed. “He was puzzled. His busy mind was going over and over the story he had been told. Yet in the midst of his mental preoccupation, a nagging sense of something wrong obtruded itself. And that something had to do with himself – not with Benedict Farley.”

“That dream was very important” said Poirot, who was told “If we hadn’t got your word for it….” the implication would have been “that [Mr Farley] had committed suicide.

Greenshaw’s Folly opens with a typically engaging sequence catching the reader’s interest:

“The two men rounded the corner of the shrubbery.

” “Well, there you are,” said Raymond West. “That’s it.”

“Horace Bindler took a deep, appreciative breath.

” “But my dear,” he cried, “how wonderful.” His voice rose in a high screech of aesthetic delight, then deepened in reverent awe…….”

Folly itself is a double entendre in that it refers to the remarkable building, about which “One wonders how he ever got hold of an architect to carry out these ideas.” and to his own unfortunate activity.

“with her mouth pursed up very prunes and prisms” displays both the author’s partiality for alliteration and her liking for humorous description.

Possibly the first reader of this book, to use as a bookmark, tore the corner off a page of the Daily Telegraph a few days after this library copy entered circulation. We can also see from the line of text above the use that Miss Marple makes of her memory of someone from her past to inform her about likely traits of those she currently contemplates.

This reminds me of the story of Crocker’s Folly which I once frequented that features in

A Screwdriver Comes In Handy

Referring to ‘The Dream’ above the Marylebone mistake also involved suicide.

Traditionally roast lamb leftovers were minced up on Monday to provide the meat for shepherd’s pie, so it was appropriate that Jackie added to bought mince the leftovers from the recent roast lamb we had enjoyed with Louisa for tonight’s meal which also included pure white cauliflower, orange carrots, and green beans, with which I finished the pinotage.

Four-And-Twenty Blackbirds

The twist in this, the fourth story in the Crime Club Choice selection is that Hercule Poirot appears to anticipate a murder – all on account of a blackberry pie reminiscent of the Four-and-Twenty blackbirds in the “Sing a Song of Sixpence” English nursery rhyme that inspired Agatha Christie to write the piece.

The regular waitress of the Gallant Endeavour at which the Belgian Detective dined one day with his friend Bonnington, shared the friend’s impression that men, like me, rarely change their meals in their favourite restaurants, so, when she told these two men that ‘Old Father Time’ had suddenly done so, and what is more, deviated from one of his normal two particular days a week over ten years, this piqued Poirot’s interest.

We were kept waiting and wondering how Hercule could have predicted the crime, the victim, and the perpetrator, until he confronted the killer with definite proof.

“They nodded to each other, swaying about, hanging on to adjacent straps. Then at Piccadilly Circus there was a general exodus……” is just one example of Dame Agatha’s descriptive encapsulation of location as she presents the two friends travelling in a crowded tube train.

The Under Dog

This morning I underwent the postponed third session of my BCG vaccine installation series at Southampton General Hospital. The procedure was carried out on time with the usual smooth, efficient, friendly, informative, and humorous care by Anna Cornwall.

The anticipated painfully irritating after effects to be expected for 48 hours produced the usual difficulty in concentrating on anything else, so here is a review I made earlier:

This is the third story in the Crime Club Choice of Agatha Christie’s tales entitled “The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding”.

Once again we have the perspicacious Poirot unravelling the alleged facts in a case of Inspector Miller’s and coming to a different conclusion.

With the spare precision of her character description reflecting that of her main protagonist, Christie matches his skill – or is it the other way round? “His eyes swept over Lily Margrave in a quick comprehensive survey, taking in the details of her neat black suit, the touch of white at her throat and the smart little black hat. He saw the elegance of her, the pretty face with its slightly pointed chin, and the dark blue, long-lashed eyes. Insensibly his attitude changed; he was interested now, not so much in the case as in the girl sitting opposite him.” Naturally he was not the only man attracted by her, thus providing an element of a the intrigue.

In complete control of her characters’ dialogue, Christie guides the conversation with such as “His eyes invited her to go on.” She pays attention to tone, as in “The disparagement of her tone, though vague, was evident, and Poirot beat a tactful retreat.” The manner of speech is also relevant, for example ” “Yes, yes, quite so,” said Mr. Mayhew without enthusiasm.”

Dame Agatha catches the note of the Belgian’s spoken English with accuracy and humour, as in “She is anxious that no one should disturb the sleeping dogs.” and “one would hardly think a young man of that type would have the – how do you say it – the bowels to commit such a crime.” On the other hand he can use idioms to good advantage: ‘See a pin and pick it up, all the day you’ll have good luck.”

The detective’s own obsessive nature is indicated by such as “Poirot’s right hand strayed out and straightened one or two of the objects lying on the table near him.” This quotation also suggests the author’s love of alliteration as does “quick comprehensive survey” above.

The well-crafted story is told with humour and meticulous detail connecting or refuting all elements as appropriate in order to establish the truth.

This evening we dined on flavoursome baked gammon; boiled new potatoes; piquant cauliflower and leek cheese; tender cabbage and leek; crunchy carrots; I also decided that one small glass of Collin-Bourisset Morgon 2022 could not irritate my bladder any more than today’s procedure has done, so I drank one.

The Mystery Of The Spanish Chest

We learn something of Hercule Poirot’s taste in women in this second story in the Crime Club’s Choice Collection “The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding” – a tale of an impossible murder into which his reluctant investigation was cajoled by Lady Chatterton, “…..one of the brightest jewels in what Poirot called le haut monde. Everything she did or said was news. She has brains, beauty, originality and enough vitality to activate a rocket to the moon.”

This “entrée” is introduced with a description of the famous detective’s efficient secretary who “seemed to be composed entirely of angles – thus satisfying Poirot’s demand for symmetry. Not that where women were concerned Hercule Poirot carried his passion for geometrical precision so far. He was, on the contrary, old-fashioned. He had a continental prejudice for curves – it might be said for voluptuous curves. He liked women to be women. He liked them lush, highly coloured, exotic….” This quotation exemplifies Christie’s humour and fluid prose. As usual she has complete control of dialogue.

Poirot can be “obsessed with beautiful women, crimes of passion, jealousy, hatred and and all the other romantic causes of murder” especially as this one appeared to have only one generally accepted possible solution which he found inexplicable.

We were led down a blind alley before Poirot proved what had really happened.

Agatha Christie’s own genius was to tie her plot into Shakespeare’s story of Othello with its themes of jealousy, murderous intent, and the naive innocence of a femme fatale.

Yesterday Jackie began transporting paving stones from the stack on the back drive to the side of the house for use behind the shed. She continued today, and I added a few. 21 of 28 have now been moved with the aid of sack barrow and wheelbarrow.

This evening we dined on Southern Fried Chicken and Jackie’s savoury rice with which I drank Collin Bourisset Fleurie 2022.

The Adventure Of The Christmas Pudding

Exactly 74 years ago to the day from this date Collins Crime Club published

In her foreword to this delightful first entrée Dame Agatha speaks of her own joyful childhood memories, acknowledging their part in the celebration which brought an adamantly reluctant Hercule Poirot into the party through the diplomatic persuasion of Mr Jesmond acting on behalf of the Commonwealth. “If one wanted to sum up Mr. Jesmond in a word, the word would have been discretion. Everything about Mr. Jesmond was discreet. His well-cut but inconspicuous clothes, his pleasant, well-bred voice which rarely soared out of an agreeable monotone, his light-brown hair just thinning a little at the temples, his pale serious face. It seemed to Hercule Poirot that he had known not one but a dozen Mr. Jesmonds in his time, all using sooner or later the same phrase – “a position of the utmost delicacy.” ” is an example of the writer’s skill in penning a complete portrait with few phrases. Each of the personalities in the tale are equally well presented – with insight, sensitivity, humour, and knowledge of people from all walks of life.

In her well-crafted style Christie presents the characters attending the Christmas and Boxing Day events, the possible crime, the suspected perpetrators, and the perspicacious Poirot.

We have an excellent description of the dinner and its traditions; a nice confusion over which puddings to serve when; a practical joke which backfires; a touch of mystery; and a few surprises.

The jacket of this first edition owes to its cellophane wrapper its rather more pristine condition than that of the ex-library edition pages. One of the collection bequeathed to me by my Auntie Ivy, I suspect she bought this as discontinued, for it bears the turned down corners produced by multiple readers not using bookmarks and

various stains I would prefer to imagine as those of the eponymous puddings, which, of course put me in mind of my own book featured in

Chocolate Surprise Pudding

The two now much older grandchildren who cooked the pudding mentioned above are currently fully occupied on their own matters, preventing them from joining my daughter Louisa on her own visit today when she will stay for two nights.

Louisa suffered much delay on her journey from Nottingham. ETA is now 8.30 p.m.

When she arrives we will all dine on succulent roast lamb; mint sauce; boiled new potatoes; soft spinach; firm broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, Brussels sprouts, and tasty gravy, with which I will drink Paarl Shiraz 2023.

The House Of Bernarda Alba

This is the third of Federico García Lorca’s Three Tragedies in the Folio Society edition of 1977. As usual I have presented the illustrations by Peter Pendrey as they lie on their pages in the context of the author’s clear scene directions.

The play has an all female cast, with the only male character, being the focus of conflict and rivalry never appearing on stage.

We have an embittered controlling woman who battles to maintain appearances of harmony in a family of daughters barely concealing seething hatred. “I’m not interested knowing what you’re feeling inside; that’s your business; but I like to see an illusion of harmony at least.” “Do you understand?” – this last sentence is an indication of her domination over all but her youngest, whose equal spirit seeks the changing life of the future, while her mother clings to the old ways.

The poet’s language includes such as “until she looks like a squashed lizard when the children have finished with it” or “I love the way that priest sings…..his voice soars up and up like water filling a bucket little by little”. Songs in verse carry repeated phrases like “Open doors, open windows, /Village maidens draw near/The reapers beg roses/For the hats they wear”, yet the perception of the condition of women is encapsulated in this three sentence conversation: A. “Men get away with everything.” Another A. “It’s the ultimate punishment to be born a woman.” M. “Not even our eyes are our own.”

The appearance of the eldest, possibly dementing, woman in the final act symbolises loving mothering as she tenderly carries a baby lamb.

As the oppressive heat out in the village threatens an impending storm, so the stifling suppressed conflict among the sisters portends an emotional explosion within the airless house of mourning.

Sue Bradbury’s translation is fluid and seems to me who has no Spanish to convey the original language.

Here are Peter Pendrey’s last two accurately expressed lino-cut illustrations.

This evening we dined on a rack of pork spare ribs in barbecue sauce; Jackie’s special fried rice; carrots, cauliflower, broccoli, and runner beans, with which I finished the Cabernet Sauvignon.

Blood Wedding

Storm Ashley treated us more gently than expected today, only blowing over one heavy potted pot, so I stayed in and reviewed ‘Blood Wedding’.

The second of Federico García Lorca’s three tragedies in the Folio Society’s collection has a different approach to the story of feuding families and forbidden love than that of Shakespeare’s better known Romeo and Juliet.

Lorca focusses on contrasts, alternating prose with verse; dark with light; music and gaiety with tension and a sense of doom; warm colours of pink and yellow with colder white, grey, and blue.

Lyrical language and the tuneful verse of the happier moments exemplify the poet’s ear. It is noticeable that the joy of the guests is not reflected in the apprehension of the Bride.

As usual the author is very clear in his scene directions to set the mood of the sequences,

noticeably those introducing Act One, Scene Three (the room, the Maid’s character, and the unease of the Mother and son).

The Beggar Woman symbolises Death and Doom, while Moon casts light as the inevitable tragic conclusion unfolds, perhaps not quite as expected.

Peter Pendrey’s linocuts are here presented as set in their pages, shared with examples of the author’s writing.

Regarding Shakespeare’s play of a similar theme I have previously posted

Romeo And Juliet

featuring an altogether different set of illustrations.

Elizabeth visited us for a short time this afternoon, because Efford Recycling Centre where she was booked to tip some rubbish was closed, presumably on account of the storm.

This evening we dined on Royal Spice home delivery of excellent Murgh Masala (only one chilli strength) and plain paratha for me, which I drank Kingfisher; and paneer shashlik for Jackie. We shared special fried rice.