Sunday, 31 May 2015
I could not help wondering is Christie actually talking about Poirot here. It is not even too thick a veil she has perhaps used to mask her feelings about this much loved and world famous character she breathed life into and at time of publication had been writing for around thirty three years or so. Did she grow tired of the brilliant little Belgium detective whilst the rest of the world hollered for more? Did she come to resent Poirot in the way Conan Doyle came to feel about Sherlock Holmes or Herge felt about TinTin? I found this a sad thought. If the things we create are to become life partners surely it is a tragedy not to love them...Like Herr Frankenstein we create our own monsters. So often that we dare not bite our nails because the filthy clay of creation is impacted beneath the fingernails.
Loved this book, it is one of my favorites since I began to work my way through the Agatha Christie collection. Poirot is such an hilarious fish out of water in this small English village and there are laugh out loud moments as he complains about his suffering in his pursuit of truth. The truth being he has never been more endearing as he overhears people mocking his curious foreign ways and eccentric appearance.
I know what that feels like.
Saturday, 30 May 2015
Never thought that one day I would have a copy of it in my own home.
Different copies on different formats(DVD and Video).
We are all citizens of the future now.
Wednesday, 20 May 2015
Oh How the other boys mocked.
David Morrell brings Victorian society to life once more( at least for whatever time you remain within his prose.)He delights and deceives in equal measure and even manages to make the horrendous killer somewhat sympathetic. He is no Edmund Dante but he is a terribly wronged man who is now prepared to burn the world in his thirst for revenge.
Yet strangely none of it feels implausible, actually it feels as real as history does. Morrell has written a powerful and engaging thriller where nothing happens that could not have taken place in some alternate reality. Not even the cruelty that sets the dominoes tumbling, Falling all through the years with a terrible outcome a real possibility. history tells us that certain things never happened. We know Queen Victoria was not assassinated. It is a fiction, a tale written to enthuse and perhaps entertain and amuse. Everything that history should be.
Sunday, 17 May 2015
Mind you..the last song I remember hearing before drifting off was The Crack Of Doom by The Tiger Lillies. That is practically an application to go to strange places in ones head..
Sunday, 10 May 2015
We are all such fragile beings at the whim of titanic forces that shape our destinies without a care for where we end up.
Saturday, 9 May 2015
Billboards? Billboards announcing his return all over the place. This was big news back then. I had hoped for so long to see him again and to watch new stories unfold and the myth to grow and grow. I just could not believe that there were billboards with my hero's face all over them. Sure, it was a new face but I am a life long fan of the man from Gallifrey so it had happened before..eight or nine times( I love Peter Cushing's interpretation and although it is not canon I do not mind. Life so rarely conforms to canon.) I got my brother to drive around town so I could take photos. He was mortified. What if someone who knew him saw this boobie behaviour? I was pretty much used to the scorn my passions evoked in complete strangers let alone people who knew me. I let it go. Tried not to judge the mockers too harshly. He was more of the busted heads school of thought.
Ten years and three (or four!) new faces later the wheezing and grinding of the greatest ship in the galaxy still resounds around the worlds of space and time.
Unfortunately those are also the sounds I make climbing a flight of stairs.
I need to regenerate not degenerate.
Tuesday, 5 May 2015
Just read this fantastic novel by a chap called Oscar De Muriel called The Strings Of Murder. The year is 1888, the year of The Ripper. Jack The Ripper. The mysterious and still annonymous killer who rocked Victorian society to its hypocritical heart as he splattered the streets of Whitechapel with innocent blood. (Yes I say innocent blood as these poor women had been driven to degrading acts by a life that was as unrelenting as it was merciless.) at the same time, in a fictional sense, at the other end of the British Isles, in Edinburgh, the brutal murder of a beloved violin teacher leads the top brass to suspect a copy-cat killer is at work. One maniac on the loose is enough, two implies a society out of control and those in control fear a loss of the illusion that all is well at the top. They fear this may even be an attempt to undermine the social order by suspects unknown. To combat this they decide to send a disgraced Scotland Yard detective Inspector Ian Fey up to Edinburgh to assist the eccentric but powerful Nine Nails McGray with his "ghost bustin division" to catch the killer before he strikes again. The Scottish detective is called Nine Nails because of events which took place in his dysfunctional family(and that is something of an understatement.)
This is a very atmospheric thrilling yarn with very believable and well written characters walking down some very dark entries in search of a savage killer who may not even be off this world. The are echoes of Poe and of Doyle, of Holmes and Mulder, Of MR James and John Connolly. It straddles the fictional and the factual in a city where the class divide is unbridgeable and the common morality is unforgiving. It has a great central cast of two very interesting and compelling leads surrounded by friends and foe alike. If either character showed up in an episode of the magnificent Penny Dreadful I would not be surprised.
I would welcome it.