Some Gorgeous Covers (Just to refresh your spirits.)

Since the previous post showed some of my least favorite covers. I thought a post showing some of my very favorite covers was called for.

Top Ten Tuesday: Ten Covers That Need RE-DESIGNING!

Please pardon the continued clunky spacing. Google Blogger refuses to cooperate and short of yanking out my hair, there's not much I can do.

Actually, if I thought yanking out my hair would help - I'd do it!

They tell you that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. Well, sure - except that sometimes you just do. Some covers just plain ugly. Some are downright boring. Some are haplessly inane. Some are too embarrassing to be seen with. I've been know to tear the cover off a paperback so I wouldn't be offended every time I picked up the book. It was either that or not read the book at all. And, by the way, I'm not one who enjoys defacing a book. Even a paperback. Of course with library books, this is problematic. Wouldn't want to have the library police show up on my doorstep. But jeez, some covers just don't deserve to see the light of day.

Top Ten Tuesdays is a weekly meme hosted by the gals over at THE BROKE AND THE BOOKISH. This week: 10 Book Covers I Wish I Could Re-Design. Check out what other bloggers are saying today- after you read mine of course. Okay, grit your teeth. 10 Covers I Wish I Could RE-DESIGN: Actually, more than ten since I had to include a couple of covers for several writers who seem doomed to have either their publishers ignore the content of their books or just have plain bad taste in design.

1) Horrible, horrible cover. There's the close-up eye seemingly beloved of designers. You wouldn't know it from the cover but this is another fabulous book in the Jane Whitefield series.

2) The people publishing Robert Crais's books probably don't realize that women read his books - that's the only excuse I can think of for these uninteresting, boringly derivative 'manly' looking covers. Not that I would want a soft pastels or whatever, but surely there is a happy medium. I wouldn't even mind these covers if they were - at least - attractive in some way or emblematic of the brilliant, dynamic writing of Robert Crais. You KNOW how much I love his work. So I continue to read his books, loving them and hating the covers.

And another thing: never NEVER NEVER NEVER put a photo of a a designer's concept of what the main character looks like. NEVER!!! Even if it is only a partial face in close-up. (And not a great photo at that.) Draw it, if you must conceptualize either Joe Pike or Elvis Cole. AND that whole 'eye in the sky' routine is just plain dumb. Years ago when I was looking for a great book to read and I saw this cover of L.A. REQUIEM, I almost, ALMOST, didn't buy it - the cover was such a turn-off. Luckily I bought it anyway. It is one of Robert Crais best books.

3) Here's a mish-mash of a cover. Bad type choice along with the 'eye in the sky' motif which seems to be popular among designers who can't seem to think of anything else to convey...what? There is no all-knowing fiend in this book. Clarkson is one of the most underrated writers in the business and this is one of his most underrated titles. I loved REED'S PROMISE from the first thrilling page until the nail-bitingly suspenseful end. This is one of those books where I had to stop reading and take tension breaks - it was THAT heart-stopping. If you can find this book, ignore the absurd cover and read it. You will thank me.

4) When I first saw this cover I didn't know what on earth to make of it, it was and still is, one of the more hideous things I've ever seen. If I didn't know Jasper Fforde's work I would have put the book down and walked away shaking my head. The story takes place in an alternate sort of universe where most everyone sees everything in shades of grey - hence the title. There are those, though, who see one primary color or another. Hence the other colors choices on the cover. I don't know about you, but I have a hard time looking at this cover and not getting an instant headache. I never did bother to try and dis-entangle the items shown and try to make heads or tails out of them. It just wasn't worth the effort. My first instinct was to rip off the cover and stomp up and down on it. But I didn't.

5) They never did get the cover for Laurie King's brilliant first mystery in the Sherlock Holmes and Mary Russell series right until the 3rd or 4th try. The trade paperback eventually, finally, had a good cover. And there's one now with a honeycomb design on black which works. But the initial covers for this classic was not only bad design, it was boring and completely un-reflective of the great writing within.

This green cover is no better. This is not a romance novel nor is the woman pictured on the cover anything like the Mary Russell described by the author. Laurie R. King is a truly wonderful writer and her books are nothing short of brilliant, especially these stories based on a legendary creation. I'm happy to say though, that lately, the covers of the stories have gotten better so maybe someone now is paying attention. I've just seen the new cover for this year's book THE PIRATE KING, and it's a winner.

6) It's possible that what happens with Lee Child's covers is that good design is seen as irrelevant because people will buy his books even with a blank cover. Although the British covers are usually a bit better - as if someone actually took the time to consider what the book is about and who Jack Reacher is. Though sometimes the Brit books rely too heavily on photographs of a tall, hulking man. Yet they always work better than the American covers which always feature HUGE type and vague photos of scenery. These are what I call 'brand name' covers and I understand what they're trying to do. But I still hate them. Love the books though, so I'll keep reading them.

7) All I can think is that the publisher had little faith in this book and didn't want to spend any money on design. I mean, what else are we to think when we see something so bland, so banal, so lacking in any hint of the witty, brilliant work lying in wait for the reader. Yeah, I'm using the word 'brilliant' a lot, but what the heck, it's the word that best expresses a few of these favorite books of mine. THE GRASSHOPPER KING most especially. Yet look at this cover, you would never suspect the immense pleasure you are about to find within these pages. This is a great book deserving of an equally great cover.

8) What would think this book is about? First thought: some kind of cozy. Maybe taking place in New England? Such a nice little picket fence. Well, you'd be totally wrong. THE OUTSIDER is a gritty, sexy, dynamic, heart-breakingly romantic western with a gunslinger hero to die for. It is as different from the 'average' historical romance as you can get. The first time I read it a few years ago I was completely enthralled and actually cried at the end. I'm not a person who 'normally' cries over books, but this heart-stopping ending...WOW! A ridiculous cover that belongs on another book and does nothing to convey the dark and shadowy nature of this book.

9) Well, this sort of thing is fine if your reading audience is male. But I don't get it being used for a book meant for a female audience. And another thing, Susan Elizabeth Phillips is just too good a writer for this nonsense. I'm really surprised that publishers are still doing this sort of thing. I mean, really, it's the kind of cover that helps give 'romances' a bad name. I wouldn't be caught dead reading this in public. It's a shame really, again I say that Susan Elizabeth Phillips deserves much better.

10) Another silly cover. A blue line of type across the model's lip makes her look as if she's got a mustache. Check out how the woman's arm looks slightly dislocated. The hand appears too small and as if it's been air-brushed to within an inch of its life. Why? Fun colors yes, but the kind of cover that makes me wince.

I didn't bother mentioning most Harlequin covers which are generally just plain awful. But that's understandable. Budget-wise they probably don't have much left over for cover art. One of my least favorite things: when the heroine and hero have blond hair and the cover shows them with dark hair or vice-versa and/or long hair when it should be short - that kind of thing. I mean, is anyone bothering to read the character descriptions? This has nothing to do with budget.

I'm not one either for close-up photos of faces on a cover unless it has something important to say about the book and is not just there to 'prettify'. Really, there aren't that many teenage models who have interesting faces. I also don't like realistic blood-splatter on covers. I'm shrugging my shoulders about this, because of course, it's all about the author and the writing, no matter what. I'll certainly keep reading favorite authors even if all the while I'm grimacing over their covers.

2nd Monday Review: THE POPE'S ASSASSIN by Luis M. Rocha

I received this book in arc form from the publisher, Putnam, as part of a Good Reads program where book bloggers sign up to win a specific book for review. Any book blogger is eligible. Just sign up for Good Reads and then head over to the Giveaways. You won't always win, but you might. I liked it better when publishers themselves just sent out arcs to critics/bloggers they liked and left it up to them to review the book or not. But now it seems commonplace to go through these readers groups. I tried it just to see what was what. I may try it again. Actually, I don't think of myself as a 'critic' much anymore. I think of myself as a book lover with preferences.

Normally I don't read 'conspiracy' books but this one sounded interesting. The best religious conspiracy book I've ever read was THE BOOK OF Q by Jonathan Rabb and any book of this sort that I read now or in the future has to try and match Rabb's.

THE POPE'S ASSASSIN by Luis M. Rocha (translated from the Portugese by Robin McAllister) doesn't quite make it, but it is good enough if you're into this sort of thing. I am not fervent about it, but even I enjoyed reading about the dark doings behind the scenes at the Vatican and elsewhere. This is definitely a page turner with non-stop action on almost every page.

According to the author, the Pope has an assassin on hire in order to keep the Catholic Church's best-kept secrets from being uncovered. And wow, what secrets they are. It turns out that when the Dead Sea Scrolls were first discovered in Turkey years ago, there was another papyrus also found - dating back to A.D. 325. The writing on this scroll threatens the very foundation of the Roman Catholic Church - the very 'truth' of the Catholic religion. No wonder the Vatican and, in this case, the Jesuits are at each others' necks to get their hands on the scroll - with assassins on both sides doing their dirty work. One side attempting to gain power over the other.

As those who have been involved in the finding of this scroll meet grisly ends, Father Rafael, the priest/operative who has been the shadowy protagonist in the previous two books by Luis M. Rocha, is once again thrust into the middle of a dangerous conspiracy. I haven't read the previous two books, but I was able to play catch-up very easily. Also involved in this deadly game is the British journalist Sarah Monteiro whose feelings for Father Rafael are conflicted, to say the least.

At the heart of this dark and tortured conspiracy of silence is Ben Isaac, a wealthy Jewish collector in whose impregnable vault resides the scroll which would bring the Catholic Church, indeed, the whole Christian community to its knees. The secret pact that exists between Ben Isaac and the Church has been intact for fifty years. Named the Status Quo, this is the first bit of business every Pope has to read immediately upon election. For his eyes only, of course.

But now, when time on the original agreement is running out, a new Status Quo must be negotiated just when the powerful Jesuit faction of the Church has decided to act.

Bodies pile up, as one after another members of the Church are murdered in the name of God. Towards the end of the book I admit I got a bit confused as to who was who. I wish the author had figured out a way to differentiate between characters in a way that would have made the action clearer. I had to stop and go back and forth as the denouement approached. I think I finally 'got' what was going on, but I'm not a hundred percent sure.

If you're in the mood for a religous conspiracy book, I recommend this one. It will certainly keep your eyebrows raised all the way through. I am a Catholic and I was not really offended by this sort of thing, a bit unsettled yes, but I always kept in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Movie News for Gilbert and Sullivan Fans Who Missed This The First Time Around

A short post to announce that after waiting and waiting and then waiting some more, Netflix finally has TOPSY-TURVY (1999) on their available list. Woo-Hoo! Needless to say, I'm a fan of Gilbert and Sullivan and I've been wanting to see this film since I first read about it. The red envelope should arrive tomorrow. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this was worth waiting for all these years.

Here's one trailer. And yet another.

Monday Book Review: FADEAWAY GIRL by Martha Grimes

Emma Graham is a typical twelve year old girl living in a small, out of the way Maryland hotel owned by her family, except for one very important thing: she is not content to let mysteries lie fallow. Now this, of course, makes her a bit of a danger to anyone trying to keep dark and deadly secrets.

The prolific Martha Grimes writes two series, one featuring Detective Superintendent Richard Jury of Scotland Yard (which I also highly recommend) and this second one featuring child/woman sleuth Emma Graham. FADEAWAY GIRL is the fourth book in the series and the third I've read. Again, as with certain series, it's best to read this one in the order of their publication. I skipped the first one - don't know why - but started with the second, COLD FLAT JUNCTION (a brilliant book) and so, by now, I'm not surprised by the precocious Emma's need to get at the truth of things.

Emma's mother is the gourmet cook at the small and vaguely seedy, Hotel Paradise, and other than cook up meals three times a day for the few guests, she doesn't show up much in these books. Emma helps serve at breakfast, lunch and dinner and runs up and down to the fourth floor delivering the potent drinks she invents for the hotel's owner Aurora Paradise, a cranky old lady who never leaves the premises. Other than that, she's pretty much on her own to do as she pleases.

The time these stories take place has never been established, far as I know. But to me it feels like the late 50's, early 60's. This vagueness adds to the mystery of it all.

The hotel shares the grounds with several other buildings, one of which has now been turned over to Emma's eccentric and equally precocious brother Will who spends all of his time with his pal Mill, writing and producing stage productions like the just closed, 'Medea, The Musical'. Author Martha Grimes crowds these books with colorful eccentric characters who are always up to something, usually behind closed doors.

The Big Garage was once used for guests' cars and it could hold at least twenty of them. Now it was used as a theater, housing Will and Mill's productions.

Mill is Brownmiller Conroy. His first name passed down through his family. No parent could be so mean as to make up such a name. We shortened it to Mill.

As usual, there was a lot of commotion inside the Big Garage. And, as usual, at my knock, silence fell like a blanket dropped over the clamor. I don't know how they did this, I mean, silenced everything like flipping a switch. Will and Mill demanded total secrecy. They did not want anyone to know anything in advance of the production. I wondered why and decided that they wanted to burst onto the scene with all of it so new it looked like the opening of the world. As if none of us had really lived until the moment the curtain went up; as if the sun and moon had sailed around with blinkers on.

With family pretty much tied up in their own vocations, Emma is free to roam at will and solve whatever mystery she comes across. This fact has made her a kind of persona-non-grata at the local police station while giving her, at the same time, a kind of unique 'star' status. Since she'd solved a murder and survived her own attempted murder, she's been asked by the local newspaper to write about her adventures. She uses this as a kind of 'blind' to wheedle information when on the hunt for clues. (Generally the newspaper articles are the last thing on her mind.)

Emma has been interested for awhile in the alleged kidnapping of a four month old baby which took place at the Hotel Belle Ruin - since burned down - twenty or so years ago. She's never stopped wondering what actually happened. Much of the history of her corner of the world is tied up in secrets, inter-connected crimes, several murders, of which the kidnapped baby seemed to be the culmination. But since no ransom demands were ever made and the baby was never found, Emma doubts an actual kidnapping ever took place. So, what happened to baby Fay Slade?

No one but Emma appears interested in the sins of the past or solving this old mystery, much of which had been laid to rest until a no-account boy named Ralph Diggs gets a job at the Hotel Paradise and Morris Slade, the baby's father, shows up back in town.

A lot of what goes on in these books is atmospheric, there is a melancholy haze which permeates every ramshackle house, abandoned building and gloomy woods - even the names of places like Spirit Lake - which make up Emma's world. Emma herself is of an understandable melancholy nature, the sort of kid who feels things deeply and sees beyond the obvious, a kid who most of the time feels invisible in a world peopled mostly by adults. Though she is not above being devious and typically twelve when the occasion calls for it, she's learned to navigate. She has a knack of being able to manipulate the adults she comes in contact with as she travels from place to place either by a short train ride or with the use of a local taxi driven by Delbert, a talkative sort whom Emma can easily tune out while she thinks on what to do next. Most of the time though, she walks while she thinks over the latest nugget of information she's unearthed.

I crossed the short expanse of White's Bridge, barely a dozen yards, curved around Mirror Pond, where the shooting of Fern Queen had occurred, and walked the dirt road as far as Mr. Butternut's small house, a cabin, really, one great big room and a kitchen and a bedroom.

The place was lit up like a wildfire, even though it was broad day outside. A big bulbous porch light hung directly over the doorway, moth-shrouded like the ones at the hotel. He did not come directly to my knocking, so I called out, "Mr. Butternut! It's me, Emma Graham!" I heard him reply, but distinctly, and there was a shuffling about before he pulled open the door.

"Well, what in tarnation?" He sounded pleased.

I was sure for anyone to visit him was an occasion. I don't think he had any family left at all, and being stuck out here with no one around must have been hard on him.

"Hi, Mr. Butternut. May I come in?"

"Yeah, sure. You want some cocoa?"

We'd had it when I was here before, right after Fern Queen's murder. "Okay. I see you've got a good fire going in your stove."

It was an ancient cast-iron one and the fire was so hot the air felt blistered.

"Come on, come on, set yourself down."

There were two armchairs drawn up before the stove and I perched on one, then sat back as far as I could to get away from the heat. I think old people tend to be colder. "Listen, did you happen to notice a red sports car around here last night?"

"Sure did." He was rattling pans around.

I straightened, surprised I'd hit pay dirt again. I waited for him to go on, but he didn't; he just plunked down a small pan and now was getting milk out of his little icebox.

"Well...where? I mean, did he go by here?"

"You bet. My Lord, why any fool would want to drive a fancy roadster like that down this good-for-nothing road's beyond me. I ain't got no marshmallows." He was looking into an almost-empty plastic Jet-Puffed bag that I could see held a couple of marshmallows stuck in a corner. He just didn't want to share them, was all.

He poured milk into the pan and added cocoa and sugar and stirred this into a paste before adding more milk. He made a pretty good cocoa.

"Then what happened?"

"Nothin'. Things ain't always going on around here like in town." He said this with his back turned, and I could tell from the crinkle sound and his arm moving that he was sticking the marshmallows into his cup on the sly.

"I mean, where do you suppose he was going?"

"No place to go except Brokedown House and nobody don't live there except ghosts." He laughed silently, shaking like a custard. "Just Calhoun spooks. Now there use to be a lot of Randalls lived down this road, Bud Randall was one, and then there was..."

He went on with the same history about past families he'd done before. It must be that old people had to check up on the past to see if it really had been there.

It may seem as if lately there are quite a few books with 11 or 12 year old girls at the helm solving mysteries, but as I've said before, Martha Grimes' series is one of the originals. Grimes hasn't given up the capacity to surprise and shock while at the same time filling these stories with memorable eccentrics whom you want to keep reading about for as long as Grimes is willing to write about them.

To see the complete list of all of Martha Grimes' books, please go here to the 'fantastic fiction' website.

Where is Spring?

Just askin'. I'm still utilizing my winter coat. I mean, c'mon. If winter comes, can spring be far behind? Remember that? Maybe some music would help. How about Appalachian Spring by Aaron Copland? Part 1 here and Part 2 here. And Part 3 here.

Painting by American Impressionist Frank Benson.

A Saturday Review: THE UNCOMMON READER by Alan Bennett

Sorry about the clunky spacing. Google Blogger is at it again. Been acting up all week and there's not much I can do about it. I think there's an html cure but I'm hopeless at that sort of thing. On with the review: Lately I'm reading faster than I'm reviewing. Don't want to get too far behind because then the stories are in danger of fading into the mist of time that is my brain these days. Hence, Saturday Review today: THE UNCOMMON READER by Alan Bennett. A delightful novella. Beautifully written. A great way to spend a few hours of an evening.

This small book has the aura of 'fairy tale' about it even if it concerns a real person living in a real land. Well, 'real' is relative, especially when you learn that the main protagonist is the current Queen of England. Bennett has conceived a humorous tale with a surprise ending and all I can say is, you'd be silly to miss reading this. Most especially if you love books, reading, writing and, oh yes, libraries.

It all begins with the Queen's obstreperous corgi dogs running amok as usual. One day on the grounds of Buckingham Palace, they run off and as the Queen goes looking for them she discovers an interesting vehicle parked near the palace kitchens: a mobile library van. The City of Westminster travelling library, to be exact. From that moment on, her life and the lives of those around her will never be the same. Books begin to work their insidious magic on the reigning monarch and, in Bennett's story, change the way the Queen views the world and her place in it.

She embarks on an impromptu reading journey which, as much as it benefits her, does nothing but discomfit those who are heavily invested in the status-quo, those whose job it is to see that the Monarchy doesn't ruffle any feathers. With the help of Norman, a literature loving, red-headed lad who works in the kitchens (before the Queen promotes him to 'page,') the Queen discovers a new found passion for the written word.

The appeal of reading, she thought, lay in its indifference: there was something undeferring about literature. Books did not care who was reading them or whether one read them or not. All readers were equal, herself included. Literature, she thought, is a commonwealth; letters a republic. Actually, she had heard this phrase, the republic of letters, used before, at graduation ceremonies, honorary degrees and the like, though without knowing quite what it meant. At that time talk of a republic of any sort she had thought mildly insulting and in her actual presence tactless, to say the least. It was only now she understood what it meant. Books did not defer. All readers were equal...

I loved this book. I'm pretty sure you will too.

Alan Bennett is also the author of THE HISTORY BOYS and THE MADNESS OF KING GEORGE as well as many other plays and books. Read more about Bennett and his work here.

Saturday Salon: A Favorite Painting

Carl Larsson (1853 - 1919) was a Swedish painter known primarily for his charming paintings of family and interiors. Often using his own children as models, Larsson's beautifully realized watercolors evoke the quiet spirit of family life amid colorful surroundings. His work has made familiar the warm, bright 'look' of Swedish interior style. You can still visit Larsson's family home today in Sundborn, Sweden. Read more about Carl Larsson here.

This is a wonderful book I own and can recommend if you'd like to see more of Carl Larsson's work and read more about his life and times. The Larsson website is a great source of info about currently available books and prints.

Jane Powell Day: Happy Birthday, Jane!

Today is the birth date of one of my all time favorite Golden Age of Movies actresses: the petite, perky and completely likable Jane Powell (1929 - ) As Ivan said a while back on his blog, THRILLING DAYS OF YESTERYEAR, 'who doesn't like Jane Powell?' She is the original harbinger of MGM sunshine, discovered as a kid, sitting on some steps, looking cute. When asked what she wanted to do, she supposedly replied, 'All I want to do is sing.' She got her wish. Yes, she's a cutie-pie, but in the very best way. And what's more, she's still with us - so, HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS, Miss Jane Powell!

I love her movies whenever they appear. Love the goofy MGM musicals in which she starred and wowed us with her wonderful voice and charming presence. In DATE WITH JUDY (1948), Wallace Beery played her father! And got away with it. He was wonderful. He was actually able to play the charming curmudgeon who might easily have been anyone's dad. Scotty Beckett played her boyfriend Oogie Pringle. (Scotty Beckett made a career out of playing boyfriends.) A young Elizabeth Taylor also starred.

Walter Pidgeon played Jane's dad in HOLIDAY IN MEXICO (1946). Who wouldn't want Walter Pidgeon for a dad? Roddy McDowall played the boyfriend. She starred with Tony Martin, Debbie Reynolds and Vic Damone in HIT THE DECK. (1955) Starred opposite Fred Astaire in ROYAL WEDDING (1951). Starred opposite the physically imposing Howard Keel (and held her own) in the classic, SEVEN BRIDES FOR SEVEN BROTHERS (1954).

But one of my very favorite Jane Powell movies is still, ATHENA (1954). A preposterous fairy tale of a musical co-starring Louis Calhern as Jane's father (she always got the best father figures MGM had to offer) and Edmund Purdom, Debbie Reynolds and Vic Damone.

Please use this link to find a complete list of all Jane Powell movies and a short bio.

Friday's Forgotten Books: Forgotten Coffee Table Books

Friday's Forgotten Books is a weekly meme hosted by Patti Abbott at her blog, Pattinase. This week it's the Forgotten Coffee Table Book getting center stage and here's my entry:

GREAT DETECTIVES Seven Original Investigations by Julian Symons

Illustrated by Tom Adams

Harry N. Abrams Publishers (1981)

This is an unique sort of book for two reasons:

The fabulous illustrations by Tom Adams of 7 of the best detectives ever to have walked the pages of some of the best mysteries ever written: Sherlock Holmes (created by Arthur Conan Doyle), Jane Marple (created by Agatha Christie), Nero Wolfe (created by Rex Stout), Hercule Poirot (created by Agatha Christie), Philip Marlowe (created by Raymond Chandler), Ellery Queen(created by Frederic Dannay and Manfred Lee) and Inspector Maigret (created by Georges Simenon). (Don't have a scanner or I'd have included some of them.)

and:

Each detective gets a story created by Edgar winner author and critic Julian Symons. The stories are a mixture of biography - what ever happened to? - or a fleshing out of background details, as in the Jane Marple story or, for instance, in the Philip Marlowe pages, we get an interview with the man Symons imagines was the model for Chandler's Marlowe.

My favorite two stories are the 'Marlowe' interview, ABOUT THE BIRTH OF PHILIP MARLOWE and the story explaining the 'end' or the disappearance of Nero Wolfe, ARCHIE GOODWIN REMEMBERS. Both wonderfully conceived and executed bits of chutzpah by Symons. I still can't read the Nero Wolfe story without getting a bit teary-eyed. But, I suppose it's as good an ending for Wolfe as any I could think of.

The stories:

1) HOW A HERMIT WAS DISTURBED IN HIS RETIREMENT

Which is, as you can probably guess, is a story of Sherlock Holmes, ancient beekeeper and how he is cajoled into taking one last case by a young woman whose last name is...hmmm...

'A trivial little case, with some points of interest, but hardly one for Watson,' Sherlock Holmes said to himself. He put the letter into the thin file containing the other relevant details. The young woman had impressed him by her strength of character as well as by her youthful innocence, and he indexed the case under 'M'. He could not quite read the surname: was it perhaps Mantle or Maple...?

I wonder too if this isn't the story that influenced Laurie R. King to write her splendid Mary Russell series beginning with THE BEEKEEPER'S APPRENTICE?

2) ABOUT MISS MARPLE AND ST. MARY MEAD

The story begins thus: My name is Leonard Clement, and I was for many years the Vicar of St. Mary Mead. It was with some hesitation that I acceded to Mr. Symon's suggestion that I should write something about the village and Miss Marple, but in the end my dear wife Griselda convinced me.

If you're familiar with the Jane Marple stories by Agatha Christie, then you know these two characters - first introduced in MURDER AT THE VICARAGE - and are especially fond of them. Who better to tell the tale of Miss Marple in St. Mary Mead? St Mary Mead is a perfectly ordinary pleasant English country village. Except of course, that it has had more than its share of crime.

3) IN WHICH ARCHIE GOODWIN REMEMBERS

Some of you may know of my devotion to Nero Wolfe in the stories by Rex Stout. Of course I would want Wolfe and Archie to live forever and in my heart and my imagination, they do. But this story by Symons detailing the 'end' of Wolfe is so well thought out and so in keeping with Wolfe's character that I couldn't help but admire it even if it brought a tear or two when I first read it. There is a gorgeously moody illustration by Tom Adams of Archie and Wolfe, each riding donkeys across a mountainous ridge in Yugoslavia.

Julian Symons interviews Archie Goodwin and gets the true facts - or - as much truth as Archie will reveal. In his early thirties, from all the descriptions I had read, Archie Goodwin was attractive rather than handsome, a big, muscular six-footer with the light-coloured hair that is almost red, and regular features saved from being conventionally good-looking by the short broad-ridged nose which gave him an air of independence and slight cockiness. That had been a while ago, but although the hair was grey now he still gave the impression of physical power kept nicely under control to be expected of Nero Wolfe's close associate. The handshake was firm, the grey eyes gave me a searching, but not unfriendly look. There wasn't much those eyes failed to notice, and they took in now my rapid inspection of the room. There were things I'd read about in twenty books, but never seen. As I walked over to the big globe standing in one corner, he nodded approvingly.

'That's the three-foot globe that stood in one corner of the office, right.'

'It was a two-foot globe in the early days, or so I read.'

He said with a touch of sharpness, 'We didn't get around to measuring it. What else?'

The story Archie later tells Symons is one in which Wolfe is again called back to his homeland of Montenegro, this time never to return.

4) WHICH EXPOUNDS THE ELLERY QUEENS MYSTERY

In which Julian Symons calls on Frederic Dannay '...who is without doubt the greatest expert on all matters connected with Ellery Queen.' (He should be since he was one of the creators and writers of the many stories.)

In the seven biographical sketches of this volume no figure has appeared so baffling as Ellery Queen. It is not that information about him is lacking, although there are some surprising gaps in the family history, but rather that what we learn is sometimes so contradictory that the biographer has to abandon exposition for interpretation - interpretation which leads to an astonishing conclusion.

Of course you have to read the rest of Symon's story to find out what 'astonishing conclusion' he arrived at while researching Ellery Queen and his father, the Inspector. I like his final hypothesis as it mirrors the whole double writing, double detective song and dance that was Ellery Queen.

5) ABOUT MAIGRET AND THE STOLEN PAPERS

From the window of the flat in the Boulevard Richard-Lenoir Maigret could see that it was a fine morning....Meanwhile he looked at the paper in front of him, the sheets in the wastepaper basket, and sighed.

His wife called: 'What is it?'

A good smell came from the kitchen. 'What's for lunch?'

'Morue a la creme.'

One of his favorites! But still, he sighed again. Madame Maigret appeared in the doorway. She was wearing a cotton housecoat he particularly liked, one printed all over with little flowers. 'What's the matter?'

'It's that devil Simenon. He's got things all wrong again.'

Read the story to see what mistake Simenon has made this time. Also see who Maigret met while working on a case that happened to involve the Belgian police in the capture of a notorious criminal. Hint: The man had a habit of turning his head to one side as he spoke and mentioned something about his '...little grey cells.'

6) THE LIFE OF HERCULE POIROT Based on the Notes of Captain Arthur Hastings

Note: I visited Captain Hastings at the Dorset seaside resort of Lyme Regis. He had been living there in retirement for some time, first in a service apartment and latterly at the Bideawhile Nursing Home, where I saw him. We took several walks along the sea front, the Captain in blazer and short peg-top trousers, and the warmth with which he was greeted showed that he was held locally in much affection.

The purpose of my visit was to look at the materials the Captain had gathered for a biography of his friend Hercule Poirot. Although his health remained good, he felt that completion of a biographical memoir would be beyond him, and so passed on what he had written and gathered together to me, with the request that I should make what I could of them.

This story contains some wonderful illustrations made to appear as newspaper or book pages and other assorted ephemera: materials collected by Hastings, some photos, a drawing of the Belgian police in uniform, Poirot's apartment, the cover of The Police News, cards from Poirot's favorite restaurant La Veille Grandmere and others. The odds and ends of a very interesting life with some romantic speculation about the Countess Vera Rossakoff.

7) ABOUT THE BIRTH OF PHILIP MARLOWE

The door was pebbled glass, the paint was black, and the wording said '...Investigations,' but the name wasn't right. When I turned the handle, though, there he was sitting behind the desk.

'You're Philip Marlowe.'

'Marlowe isn't the name on the door. You're one of those guys who never quite made reading, thought all the letters were good for was alphabet soup.' He saw that I was taken aback, laughed and put out his hand. 'Okay, let's not say yes or no about my being Marlowe, but just bat the idea around a little. What's it to you anyway?'

I told him about the bookseller who had sold me some Raymond Chandler letters that mentioned the name that was on the door, how I had checked up and discovered that he was a private detective, with a reputation for being honest and highly independent like Marlowe, that he was unmarried, had an office in the right area, was the right age. Everything I had found out suggested that he was the original of Marlowe.

The story reveals how a detective met a writer named Chandler and how a classic series was born.

This is a very entertaining book. I'd say, if you can find a copy, buy it or borrow it and read it.