One Raymond Chandler....There's Only One Raymond Chandler

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Regular readers might remember last year that I read The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler. A book enjoyed immensely until the end when I was struggling reading it through a heavy cold and sore throat. So bad it was that wife/daughter didn't mention "man flu" once. And yet as I loved the novel I wanted to finish it, which given my condition was a mistake.

Anyway the above clearly makes me an expert on all things Chandler and so made me confident to read this.

Apologies For The Blurring

Published in 1988 for the centenary of Chandler's birth this book was a collection of short stories featuring Philip Marlowe written by the leading crime writers of her day such as Sarah Paretsky and Simon Brett with the last story by Raymond himself showing the latterday young whippersnappers how it should be done.

And I say that because it was a disappointment. There were various reasons for this. One was because some tried to out Marlowe Marlowe as if the writers involved thought they were in a metaphor writing competition.

Others didn't seem to bother with the style. Why were they there at all?

And some took absolute liberties. There was swearing in one and in another private eye Phillip Marlowe met Bertolt Brecht. Bertolt Brecht? Do me a favout.

The crime stories here were also too short. You could whip most of them down to this. Marlowe is given problem. Marlowe confronts problem. Marlowe deals with problem. Trouble is in a short story it's just too rushed. Probably no coincidence that the Chandler story (The Pencil) was the longest in the set.

But ultimately there was one reason why these writers failed.

There's only one Raymond Chandler.

Until the next time.

Why Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep Lost To My Middling Cold And Flu

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I must be honest. I've not really read Raymond Chandler before. I say "not really" because do remember buying a collection of short stories in the eighties when ITV had made a series of them starring the late Powers Boothe. A man who certainly had the Philip Marlowe look about him. Don't remember reading them however.

Nonetheless Raymond Chandler's creation of the wise cracking Shamus in late thirties Hollywood is still a male icon whether you have read the books or not. Indeed off the top of my head apart from Sherlock Holmes and James Bond I can't think of a more enduring one.

It's also the case, whether you've read his books or not, that Chandler is almost as remembered for the style of writing as for Marlowe himself. Something I cannot think you can say for any other popular writer.

For two thirds of the book I loved it. Marlowe is hired to deal with a case of blackmail which of course leads to me. I was turning the page with excitement.

I was gripped.

Let us be clear here about Marlowe. He's a decent man doing a tough job in a tough world. Comparing him with James Bond is instructive, especially in his treatment of women. He slaps one woman for being hysterical. Not saying you should approve but I've seen hysterical men slapped in films as well. The only other time he hits a woman he was attacked first. Unlike James Bond you wouldn't have Marlowe on the prowl for the latest notch on the bedpost. Or get involved with a discussion about rape with a rapist in the same manner you would discuss the weather.

But anyway I was gripped.

However let's make a quick health diversion. There seems to be, worringly early in the season, a cold, cough and flu bug going around. Daughter has had it and has missed some school because of it. Ditto wife and work. Ditto friends. Ditto work colleagues. I however seemed immune...until Saturday.

Now I have a cold, a headcold and a sore throat. I have tablets and throat sweets shaking inside my belly and it's my turn to start snivelling. I'm in that position where I feel like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards, and then forwards again. But I'm not unwell enough that I can't go to work.

The only good thing about this is that there's been no jibes from wife/daughter about "man flu". Especially as they're the ones who probably gave it to me.

But the mistake I made with The Big Sleep was that I loved this book so much I wanted to continue reading it. Trouble is the mind was willing but the nose was runny and the eyes watering. In these conditions you might finish a book, as I did, but you don't appreciate it. The thing about this novel is that whilst it's far from being a snobby you do have to concentrate to get all it's nuances and one liners.

So you see you can love reading too much sometimes. There we go.

Until the next time.

On Books: Read,Borrowed And Bought. Including A Booksale And Why I Might Have Underestimated Bernard Cornwell

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Now that the World Cup is slowly drawing to a close probably the only good thing is that there's more time to go back to reading. I must admit in the past month or so to having slowed up on it whilst there was the distraction of the global footy.

But now normal service has been resumed. And let's start with the book I've read since I last chatted on the subject.

Bernard Cornwell - Fools and Mortals

Now I slight digression is called for to explain why I've never read a Bernard Cornwell book before. In the mid nineties I made the mistake of watching a programme in the TV series of his Sharpe novels. All about the adventures of a British soldier in the Napoleonic wars. And to be honest in my early thirties it just didn't seem that interesting anymore whereas previously I would enjoy them. Only later did the explanation come clear.

I was growing old.

Also though as I've mentioned in this blog I read a C S Forester Hornblower novel about a year back and didn't like it. It's patriotism was over the top. The sort a member of UKIP would love. So not for me.

So Mr Cornwell's books have been avoided....until now. And let me say I loved Fools and Mortals. Set in Elizabethan times it follows a (literally) Shakespearean theatre company in the days where female roles were played by men. One of whom turns out to be the main character. William Shakespeare's younger brother.

Did Shakespeare have a brother? I don't know and it doesn't matter. It's a historical entertainment. Indeed I'll go as far as to say that as an entertainment it's the best book I've read this year.

I might still be right about his Sharpe novels. But reading Fools and Mortals has made me realise that should opportunity come I should give them a go.

I mentioned in my last post that I was going to spend part of Saturday in a book sale in Sully where I'm currently renting. I haven't bought that many books since we moved out of Bridgend so wasn't going to pass away the chance here.

(Another quick aside - Still renting at the moment whilst looking for "the place" - We thought we'd found a house and had an offer accepted only to drop out when the survey revealed a house that didn't so much need updating as upending and demolishing. It was that bad.)

It was held in The Old School Hall, now used for community activities.

Signs and Balloons For Books...I Love It

There was a good selection on display.

Full On Trestle Table Action

Now the price range was 1 book for a pound or six for five pounds. The intention was to buy six. The idea was two were those suggested by my favourite book podcast Backlisted, Two were going to be Penguin Paperbacks and two were going to be "Welsh" books as I've recently realised that I've not been chatting about Welsh books and their authors and this will change.

So the first book was:

Raymond Chandler -The Big Sleep

This is the sort of book I feel I know about even though I haven't read it. Certainly a book I should've read by now. So soon a literary bucket list will be ticked (An author on Backlisted by the way).

Now I only bought one "Welsh" book in the end. Could've bought more but wanted to avoid books by Catrin Collier or Dylan Thomas or about rugby.

(To be fair I've yet to get round to the audiobook I've got of Dylan Thomas' poetry - which I think is better listened to than read. And was tempted by a biography of Richard Burton. It's hardback brick length put me off. When we eventually more somewhere I will seek it out)

So it came to this.

Oliver Balch - Under The Tump 

Then I saw a Penguin Paperback.

Honor Tracy - Mind You I've Said Nothing

"Forays In The Irish Republic" is the description to this travel book. Let's just hope it's not cliché Ireland.

The next one was suggested again by Backlisted

Elizabeth Taylor - Mrs Palfrey At The Claremont.

The next does not fall into any of the categories I intended. Still....as I'm a fan

Clive James - Even As We Speak

And finally. Recommended by Backlisted and apparently David Bowie.

Spike Milligan - Puckoon

All for £5....

And that's not all. Went to the nearby library afterwards. The next book on the non fiction pile to read there was...

Jo Hardy - Tales From A Young Vet

All I can say is. If she can't get me to be interested like James Herriot could then she's failed.

No pressure then.

Until the next time.