tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992474326494839382013-06-18T15:12:09.173-04:00Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.comBlogger408125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-38174627178930243352013-06-17T16:39:00.006-04:002013-06-17T16:39:58.084-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dgKS59HByGc/Ub9zgzty0NI/AAAAAAAAEeU/M9pyuPx0Ks0/s1600/roger+rabbit+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dgKS59HByGc/Ub9zgzty0NI/AAAAAAAAEeU/M9pyuPx0Ks0/s1600/roger+rabbit+01.jpg" height="320" width="193"></a>I’m a very big fan of the film <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Who Framed Roger Rabbit</i>. It’s one of the greatest movies of all time in my book – the visual effects are astounding, even to this day, and it has a love for classic animation and old-time Hollywood that makes it a real pleasure to watch. It also brought characters like Bugs Bunny and Mickey Mouse to the screen for the first time. And in the midst of all this, the movie manages to be a legitimate mystery with a solid, satisfactory ending. And so I finally decided to acquaint myself with the book that inspired the film version, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Who Censored Roger Rabbit</i>? by Gary K. Wolf.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">Naturally, because I love the film as much as I do, the book would have a tough act to follow. But I decided to keep an open mind and try to enjoy the ride. Like the movie, the book stars Eddie Valiant, a hardboiled, cynical P.I. He is hired by Roger Rabbit to investigate the DeGreasy brothers. They are the heads of a large cartoon syndicate and have Roger under contract, playing second fiddle to one Baby Herman. But when he signed the contract, Roger was promised his own strip. The DeGreasys now deny ever offering him his own strip and refuse to let him go or sell him off to another syndicate, despite the interest shown in his talents.<br></div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/06/who-ruined-roger-rabbit.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-74352588697339906602013-05-22T04:18:00.000-04:002013-05-22T04:18:25.704-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Mfifu08NlFI/UZx_MuxT38I/AAAAAAAAEdg/Fwm4bGj8TS8/s1600/saint+maker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Mfifu08NlFI/UZx_MuxT38I/AAAAAAAAEdg/Fwm4bGj8TS8/s320/saint+maker.jpg" width="208"></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">A while ago I read Otto Penzler’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Great-Detectives-Celebrated-ebook/dp/B008V5JHLO/ref=tmm_kin_title_0">The Great Detectives: The World’s Most Celebrated Sleuths Unmasked by Their Authors</a></i>. It was a wonderful book, with essays from various authors describing the birth of their detectives. And one of the most fascinating essays of the bunch came from a man named Leonard Holton. I’d never heard of him before, but apparently in the 70s, he was known as the creator of Father Joseph Bredder, a detective well-known enough to be included in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Great Detectives</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">Immediately I went to the Kindle store. After all, nearly every other author included in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Great Detectives</i> is Kindle-available. But I was met with a blank: as far as Amazon was concerned, Leonard Holton had never existed, and Father Bredder also turned up a blank. So I went on a mission to find something written by Leonard Holton. The mission ended surprisingly early: my ever-reliable local used bookstore, Paperbacks Unlimited, had two Holton novels on the racks inside the store. A few dollars later, I walked out of the store eagerly clutching <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Saint Maker</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Deliver us from Wolves</i>.</div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/05/it-takes-devil-to-make-saint.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-70750544660495583072013-05-19T17:11:00.002-04:002013-05-19T17:14:47.322-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_juN95MRuBQ/UZk_0ePBZjI/AAAAAAAAEc8/ncF5mZyZ3T4/s1600/daughter+of+time+02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_juN95MRuBQ/UZk_0ePBZjI/AAAAAAAAEc8/ncF5mZyZ3T4/s320/daughter+of+time+02.jpg" width="208"></a></div>Inspector Alan Grant is sick in a hospital bed, through the magic of a plot device. (I believe it was a broken leg, but I don’t know why this would require such an extended stay in hospital.) Anyways, he is bored, bored, bored… with nothing to do, he is encouraged to take a look at some famous historical riddle and try to solve it from his bed. And so he becomes fascinated with the figure of Richard III, and decides to investigate whether the king really was the heinous killer of the Princes in the Tower.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">It seems that everyone everywhere is in love with this book, and with Josephine Tey in general. Interest in Tey and this book surged with the discovery of Richard III’s bones. Because the ghost of Harry Stephen Keeler was still active in the blogosphere at the time, the news story hit just a few days after I’d finally purchased a copy of this book, intending to read it. But because a lot of people who had no idea what they were talking about suddenly became authorities on King Richard, Tey, and GAD in general, I decided to wait for a while.</div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/05/tale-as-old-as-time.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-37510209641945530462013-05-15T14:56:00.000-04:002013-05-15T15:16:58.613-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m5UGMaAdK4U/UZPZ0MGeQWI/AAAAAAAAEcc/qx-aPevx2NQ/s1600/holmeschurch02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m5UGMaAdK4U/UZPZ0MGeQWI/AAAAAAAAEcc/qx-aPevx2NQ/s320/holmeschurch02.jpg" width="207"></a></div>One of the most intriguing aspects of the Sherlock Holmes canon is, for me, all the untold adventures that Dr. Watson alludes to but which are never given the full-length short story treatment. And I’m not alone in thinking this. Many, many authors, from Anthony Boucher to William L. DeAndrea, have taken cues from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and come up with their own original Sherlockian adventure, based on a reference Dr. Watson made in the canon. And one of the newer efforts has come from Ann Margaret Lewis, author of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Murder in the Vatican: The Church Mysteries of Sherlock Holmes</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">Published in 2010, this book brings Sherlock Holmes to the Vatican, at the time of Pope Leo XIII’s reign. This is a brilliant idea because, well, Pope Leo was an extraordinary man in many ways. He made it crystal clear to critics that the Catholic Church was not opposed to science and indeed co-existed with it, and Sherlock Holmes is infamous for his scientific mind. The meeting of these two men is very, very appropriate and the author manages to spin three tales out of their encounters.<br></div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/05/one-of-most-intriguing-aspects-of.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-5735487941455330642013-05-13T15:12:00.002-04:002013-05-13T15:12:45.194-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gaJQo_xHW-E/UZE5Ag3OTqI/AAAAAAAAEbE/Ekig7scVYPc/s1600/Internet+State+Penitentiary.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="228" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gaJQo_xHW-E/UZE5Ag3OTqI/AAAAAAAAEbE/Ekig7scVYPc/s320/Internet+State+Penitentiary.gif" width="320"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meanwhile at the Internet State Penitentiary...</td></tr></tbody></table>The clock struck four A.M. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and the moonlight shone dimly through the window of the prison cell, the one on death row at the Internet State Penitentiary. Inside, four men – of which I was a part! – were contemplating the inevitable destruction of three of their members within a few hours. The Irishman got up and addressed the group:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">“Gentlemen,” he said, “if I know yew as I t’ink I dew, it seems probable that ye’re all contemplatin’ yer inevitable destruction in a few hours. But perhaps we’d best be getting’ on with yer contest?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">“Of course,” said I, “but before we do so perhaps it is best we review the circumstances under which we found ourselves here.”<br></div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/05/im-just-wild-about-harry.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-44792665993507817942013-05-10T20:03:00.001-04:002013-05-10T20:03:29.525-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WT6dzFGmI9U/UY2KtT2wlFI/AAAAAAAAEXU/lQbyQE34ywc/s1600/mort+au+jury.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WT6dzFGmI9U/UY2KtT2wlFI/AAAAAAAAEXU/lQbyQE34ywc/s320/mort+au+jury.jpg" width="195"></a></div>They called Michel Delupas “The Surgeon”. He was a medical student turned serial killer, and he murdered his victims with the aid of a scalpel. Fortunately, he was caught and justice prevailed: a jury of his peers brought in a verdict of “Guilty” and The Surgeon has been behind bars ever since. That is, until he was finally released…</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">Delupas is a deranged psychopath on a mission. According to his twisted worldview, society has done him wrong and he needs to shift the balance back onto his side. And what better way to do that than by killing off the members of the jury that convicted him, one by one? It’s what happens in René Reouven’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mort au jury</i> (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Death to the Jury</i>).<br></div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/05/verdict-of-nine.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-8008126293267728142013-05-02T23:29:00.001-04:002013-05-02T23:33:07.592-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JZYDYwQaSOo/UYMu_ZEjwSI/AAAAAAAAEWY/5pAcodM3BYY/s1600/dustandshadow02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JZYDYwQaSOo/UYMu_ZEjwSI/AAAAAAAAEWY/5pAcodM3BYY/s320/dustandshadow02.jpg" width="222"></a>A while back <a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.ca/2013/02/apathy-sheer-bloody-apathy.html">I went on a lengthy tirade</a> against the Edgar Awards and Agathas, lamenting how far they have sunk and how they have become little more than a reflection of bestseller lists. It was a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">controversial</i>post, generating more comments than any other post in the history of this blog. Out of all these comments, one I remembered particularly recommended Lyndsay Faye’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dust and Shadow</i>, a Sherlock Holmes vs. Jack the Ripper yarn. This came about because Faye had been nominated for Best Novel for <i>The </i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gods of Gotham</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">I generally stay away from Holmes vs. the Ripper novels. It’s a tired idea with little novelty behind it, and it seems that every other such book concludes that the Ripper murders were the result of a ridiculous conspiracy centered around Prince Albert Victor. This is based on a highly flawed idea proposed by Stephen Knight in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jack the Ripper: The Final Solution</i>, but it somehow has gotten to be the most popular theory in the realm of fiction. I don’t get it – I thought it was a stupid solution the first time I heard it, and when I recently read up on the Ripper case I found out just how stupid a solution it really is.<br></div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/05/ashes-to-ashes-dust-to-dust.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-64093666207980618332013-04-30T09:38:00.003-04:002013-04-30T09:40:51.398-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><i>&quot;Ha! You put me off, do you?&quot; said our new visitor, taking a step forward and shaking his hunting-crop. &quot;I know you, you scoundrel! I have heard of you before. You are Holmes, the meddler.&quot;</i><br><i></i><i>My friend smiled.</i><br><i></i><i>&quot;Holmes, the busybody!&quot;</i><br><i></i><i>His smile broadened.</i><br><i></i><i>&quot;Holmes, the Scotland Yard Jack-in-office!&quot;</i><br><i></i><i>Holmes chuckled heartily. &quot;Your conversation is most entertaining,&quot; said he. &quot;When you go out close the door, for there is a decided draught.&quot;</i><br><div style="text-align: right;">– The Adventure of the Speckled Band </div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-08uewqcLWWE/UX_JzR_XiPI/AAAAAAAAEV4/WNtfzufZnNU/s1600/drjekyllmrholmes+01.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-08uewqcLWWE/UX_JzR_XiPI/AAAAAAAAEV4/WNtfzufZnNU/s320/drjekyllmrholmes+01.png" width="212"></a></div>I have a confession to make: I got a little sidetracked. I was intending to review a bunch of books where Sherlock Holmes meets Count Dracula. As it turns out, this is not going according to plan. I’ve already made side trips into Holmes meets Poe territory and Holmes vs. the Ripper lore. The next book I’ll review is another Holmes vs. the Ripper novel. And today’s book is another one by Loren D. Estleman in which Sherlock Holmes is inserted into a famous Victorian story. It’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Holmes</i>. (Oddly enough, Jekyll and Hyde were featured in <a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.ca/2013/04/dance-of-death.html">another Sherlockian story</a> I recently read, but in a very different capacity.)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">This book in many ways mirrors the spirit of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sherlock Holmes vs. Dracula</i>. Here, Holmes is contacted by Gabriel John Utterson, a lawyer and a friend of Dr. Henry Jekyll. Utterson is concerned about his friend, because Dr. Jekyll has just drafted up a will leaving all his property to the young scoundrel Edward Hyde. Hyde is a bounder in every sense of the word, inspiring hatred in every person he meets. He has no friends, and the only reason he is tolerated on the social scene is because of his money. Yet all of his money seems to come from Dr. Jekyll, and this is slowly casting a shadow on the good doctor’s name. Utterson wants Holmes to investigate the connection between Jekyll and Hyde, and to release the doctor from the evil man’s grip.<br></div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/04/the-adventure-of-distraught-doctor.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-25435570005950878702013-04-27T12:28:00.001-04:002013-04-27T12:42:50.293-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tHXA6LOdW9g/UXv8EdQgQjI/AAAAAAAAEVY/xTiqVs-HZJQ/s1600/A+Closed+Book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tHXA6LOdW9g/UXv8EdQgQjI/AAAAAAAAEVY/xTiqVs-HZJQ/s1600/A+Closed+Book.jpg"></a></div>My Lord, members of the jury, the great Internet public, we are gathered here today to re-examine the case against one Gilbert Adair, author of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.ca/2011/11/i-jury.html">The Act of Roger Murgatroyd</a></i>, a crime against humanity posing as postmodern literature. When he was placed on trial on the first day of November in the year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Eleven, the evidence was overwhelmingly against him. But in the meantime, influential bloggers such as Sergio from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://bloodymurder.wordpress.com/">Tipping My Fedora</a></i> pressed the case in Adair’s favour and demanded that it be re-examined. And so we bring the late Gilbert Adair back to trial to examine <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Closed Book</i>, a 1999 novel that Sergio regards highly enough to put on his “Top 100 Books” list.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">…Okay, I’ve established a connection to my previous Gilbert Adair review, so I think I’ll stop the fake trial here. My original review was a very angry rant written as though I were putting Gilbert Adair on trial for crimes against humanity. He died about a month after I published the review, and I have not changed a word of that review: it stands as an example of just how furious a bad book can make me. However, it seems like putting him on trial all over again would probably be in bad taste… especially since <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Closed Book</i> is actually pretty good.</div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/04/retrial.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-40369548843209717522013-04-20T01:00:00.000-04:002013-04-21T17:28:34.151-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Elementary, my dear Watson!</i></div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">—apocryphal; attributed to Sherlock Holmes</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cW7uT3LiQuo/UXHzvfGEOiI/AAAAAAAAEUg/gXwYoL1w7EQ/s1600/El%C3%A9mentaire,+mon+cher+Holmes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cW7uT3LiQuo/UXHzvfGEOiI/AAAAAAAAEUg/gXwYoL1w7EQ/s320/El%C3%A9mentaire,+mon+cher+Holmes.jpg" width="220"></a></div>The idea came to Robert Louis Stevenson in the form of a nightmare, according to his wife Fanny, and the first draft took only days to complete. Afterwards, she read the manuscript. As usual, she gave Robert her comments. After a while, he called her back to the bedroom and pointed to a pile of ashes: he had destroyed the manuscript and would start all over again from scratch. The story would eventually become <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde</i>, one of the most celebrated stories of all of English literature.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">But what if that manuscript survived? What if Stevenson never burnt it at all? What if the manuscript came into someone else’s possession? That is the situation created by René Reouven in his book <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Élémentaire mon cher Holmes</i> (Elementary, My Dear Holmes). And in this novel, we learn that the first draft of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde</i> is a manuscript of such concentrated evil that anyone who reads it becomes a murderer…</div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/04/dance-of-death.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-55718155288151365122013-04-18T23:23:00.000-04:002013-04-21T17:28:52.663-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lIfri7k3dYE/UXC4Uh-DgoI/AAAAAAAAETo/77JBKIhbkpk/s1600/Le+detective+vole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lIfri7k3dYE/UXC4Uh-DgoI/AAAAAAAAETo/77JBKIhbkpk/s320/Le+detective+vole.jpg" width="219"></a></div><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Le Détective Volé</i>(The Stolen Detective) by René Reouven begins with a disclaimer that goes something like this: “Edgar Allan Poe died in 1849, and Sherlock Holmes was born in 1854, but such a minute detail wouldn’t have prevented two such remarkable people from meeting.” This is a bit misleading, since there is never at any point in the novel a moment where Sherlock Holmes meets Edgar Allan Poe. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And yet…</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">I will admit, the concept of this novel initially had me baffled. This is a Sherlockian pastiche in which Holmes’ fictional nature is admitted from the outset, and as a result the entire novel is a literary game being played out between Reouven and his readers. Here is the premise: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is sick and tired of hearing all these comparisons between Edgar Allan Poe’s Dupin stories and his Holmes stories. So he uses H. G. Wells’ time machine to send Holmes and Watson back in time to Paris in the 1830s. Their mission is to get in touch with Vidocq, and investigate whether or not Poe ripped the idea for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Purloined Letter</i>from the headlines. And if so, who was the real-life C. Auguste Dupin?</div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/04/a-most-mysterious-murder.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-18568613307997006192013-04-15T10:08:00.005-04:002013-04-15T10:14:48.056-04:00<i>When spooks have a midnight jamboree,</i><i> </i><br><i>They break it up with fiendish glee.</i><i> </i><br><i>Now, ghosts are bad,</i> <i>but the one that&#39;s cursed</i><br><i>Is the Headless Horseman, he&#39;s the worst</i><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">—Brom Bones, <i>The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad</i> (1949) </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9YeIzVhD_Io/UWwJgsxV7dI/AAAAAAAAES8/j93nEZybaUg/s1600/Tangled+Skein+03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9YeIzVhD_Io/UWwJgsxV7dI/AAAAAAAAES8/j93nEZybaUg/s320/Tangled+Skein+03.jpg" width="226"></a></div>In my last Holmesian review, I chastised Loren D. Estleman for using the plot device of killing Holmes off for a few pages before bringing him right back, an overused plot device in the realm of Holmesian pastiches. I advocated for more creativity from pastiche writers. And I definitely got that from David Stuart Davies in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Tangled Skein</i>. The problem is, I’m still not sure whether I enjoyed the book or not. One minute I’ll love it, and the next minute it will have me more irritated than an English prof who thinks Edgar Allan Poe was a time-travelling postmodernist. (I’m not even making that up, but that’s a story for another day.)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Tangled Skein </i>is a really clever sequel to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Hound of the Baskervilles</i>. You will recall that Sherlock Holmes’ body was never recovered after the incident at the Reichenbach Falls. Well, the body of the guilty party in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Hound of the Baskervilles</i> was <u>also</u> never recovered. And Sherlock Holmes discovers that this party is alive and very much well… and seeking revenge on Holmes for having foiled his plans.<br></div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/04/the-curse-of-dracula.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-33845439175762065922013-04-13T07:29:00.003-04:002013-04-13T07:29:43.890-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1TeKLZVniWo/UWlAYsoqAPI/AAAAAAAAESQ/Fz0EuT2YATY/s1600/bill+pronzini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1TeKLZVniWo/UWlAYsoqAPI/AAAAAAAAESQ/Fz0EuT2YATY/s320/bill+pronzini.jpg" width="224"></a></div>Today marks Bill Pronzini’s 70^th birthday, and so I wanted to join in the discussion on the blogosphere with my own tribute to the author. Pronzini is a well-known and respected author, but he’s something of a rarity on the modern mystery scene: he knows <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">a lot</i> about the genre’s history. His collection of books and pulp magazines is massive, and he has written and contributed to several reference volumes, including three books on “alternative classics” (i.e. books so bad that they become good): <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gun in Cheek</i>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Son of Gun in Cheek</i>, and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Six-Gun in Cheek</i> (the final volume specifically on Westerns). He and his wife Marcia Muller teamed up to create a classic reference volume, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">1001 Midnights</i>. And his output as a writer and editor is extremely prolific.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">One of the best things about Bill Pronzini is his fairness to both “sides” of the genre. He can praise John Dickson Carr and Raymond Chandler in the same sentence, and his praise will be articulate and intelligent. Pronzini’s enthusiasm for the hardboiled/noir subgenre got me interested in reading more works in such a vein. Recently, I read the book <a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.ca/2013/01/a-book-thatll-kill-ya.html"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Books to Die For</i></a>, a book which I have criticised heavily for a variety of reasons. However, certain individual contributions are brilliant. Pronzini’s was one of them. He chose to talk about an author I’d never heard of before, Elliott Chaze, and his novel <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Black Wings Has My Angel</i>.</div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/04/a-tribute-to-bill-pronzini-fellow.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-18387475723117092032013-04-12T00:01:00.000-04:002013-04-12T00:01:00.220-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A4d2J8b8DAA/UWd_mEpRIdI/AAAAAAAAER8/FV6Jxv-vqHI/s1600/Sherlock+Holmes+vs.+Dracula+02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A4d2J8b8DAA/UWd_mEpRIdI/AAAAAAAAER8/FV6Jxv-vqHI/s320/Sherlock+Holmes+vs.+Dracula+02.jpg" width="206"></a></div>I was never much of a fan of the idea of Sherlock Holmes meeting Count Dracula. The only thing they really have in common is that they were both popular characters written at around the same time period. Apart from that there’s nothing. They inhabit separate universes. Holmes is the ever-rational man who discounts all supernatural explanations as a matter of course, while the <br>world of Dracula is one of terror and superstition.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">But somehow, Holmes vs. Dracula became a thing. There are plenty of takes on this throughout Holmesiana, and a quick Google search of “Holmes vs. Dracula” will turn up dozens of stories. And today I’m reviewing one of the very earliest – if not the first – examples of this kind of novel, Loren D. Estleman’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sherlock Holmes vs. Dracula</i>.<br></div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/04/the-adventure-of-sanguinary-count.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-81032727158370280132013-04-11T00:30:00.002-04:002013-04-11T20:24:10.354-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_j88lUN-W1I/UWY8NZiadTI/AAAAAAAAERM/PEOlkwDhEWM/s1600/Dracula+04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_j88lUN-W1I/UWY8NZiadTI/AAAAAAAAERM/PEOlkwDhEWM/s320/Dracula+04.jpg" width="200"></a></div><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dracula</i> is one of those immortal stories that pretty much any intelligent person knows, even if they haven’t read the story themselves. It’s right up there with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hamlet</i>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde</i>, and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Christmas Carol</i>. I had read Dracula before, but for reasons I will clarify in a moment, I wanted to revisit the classic novel.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal"><ul></ul>So, here’s a <u>really</u> brief overview of the story for anyone who doesn’t know it: Dracula is an evil vampire who leaves his native land of Transylvania to come to England. He wreaks havoc there, draining the blood of a young woman without being suspected… that is, until someone calls in Dr. Abraham Van Helsing, who realises that Dracula is behind it all.<ul></ul></div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/04/are-you-afraid-of-dark.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-27221860984541262172013-04-08T12:40:00.001-04:002013-04-21T17:28:45.446-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The year &#39;87 furnished us with a long series of cases of greater or less interest, of which I retain the records. Among my headings under this one twelve months I find an account of the adventure of the Paradol Chamber, of the Amateur Mendicant Society, who held a luxurious club in the lower vault of a furniture warehouse, of the facts connected with the loss of the British bark <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Sophy Anderson</span>, of the singular adventures of the Grice Patersons in the island of Uffa, and finally of the Camberwell poisoning case.</i></div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">—The Five Orange Pips</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jcICZNtHyPg/UWLxhL51aGI/AAAAAAAAEQQ/a0DKWtChalw/s1600/amateur+mendicant+society.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jcICZNtHyPg/UWLxhL51aGI/AAAAAAAAEQQ/a0DKWtChalw/s320/amateur+mendicant+society.jpg" width="232"></a></div>I am a very big fan of the radio series <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes</i>. It initially starred Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce, but near the end of its run Rathbone left the show and was replaced by Tom Conway. The program was sponsored by Petri Wine, and spokesperson Harry Bartell served as the announcer. He gave you three plugs for Petri Wine: at the beginning and at the end of the program, and at a cliff-hanger moment in the middle. But the man’s crisp, clear, smooth voice made it an enjoyable piece of advertising, and often times the final plug would be a bit of a running gag, with Dr. Watson desperately trying to avoid the subject of Petri Wine and Bartell managing to shove the plug in there nonetheless. Take, for instance, the conclusion to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Problem of Thor Bridge:</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Bartell: </b>I take you for a very charming gentleman, a wonderful storyteller, and a fine host. [Watson&#39;s chuckling, mutters of thanks] Well, you are a gentleman, of the old school... [More mutters of thanks] And you do tell a fine story.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Watson: </b>Well, you flatter me, you-</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Bartell: </b>And you are a perfect host. That meal we had tonight was wonderful. And, um, that wine, what kind was it?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Watson: </b>It was Petri wine, and you know it, and I should&#39;ve known that you were leading up to something. Mr. Bartell, you should be ashamed of yourself.</div></blockquote><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">Petri Wine was one of the many charms of the series, and although there were plenty of other series, no advertiser or host was ever as charming as Mr. Bartell with his Petri Wine— and Mr. Bell of Kreml Hair Tonic frankly creeped me out. By the time John Stanley replaced Tom Conway as Sherlock Holmes, the series really had me lost, and I&#39;ve only listened to a handful of episodes from this era.<br></div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/04/petri-wine-brings-you.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-24160004438918068602013-04-06T05:12:00.002-04:002013-04-06T05:12:44.653-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Warning: This book deals with events that began in the 1959 novel <i>Psycho</i>. So if you are unfamiliar with the story, either the novel or the film, please turn away because I will be dealing in spoiler territory.</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VCuVAYj4pLQ/UV_mpIAdIfI/AAAAAAAAEPs/4-E9TTuP1TE/s1600/psycho+II+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VCuVAYj4pLQ/UV_mpIAdIfI/AAAAAAAAEPs/4-E9TTuP1TE/s320/psycho+II+01.jpg" width="210"></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Much to my misfortune, I have sat through all the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Psycho</i> movies. This includes not only the ghastly Gus Van Sant-directed remake, but also the three sequels to the original 1960 film. As you can guess, I’m not a fan of most of these (though I surprisingly enjoyed <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Psycho IV</i>). They were derivative pieces of schlock that tried to cash in on what the original <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Psycho</i> was. However, Robert Bloch also wrote two sequels to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Psycho</i>. Until now, I’ve never subjected myself to any of them. But I finally decided to take the plunge and try my hand with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Psycho II</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">In my defense, I was seduced by the plot idea. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Psycho II</i> deals with Norman Bates years after the events of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Psycho</i> left him psychologically traumatized. He has been institutionalized since, and has slowly but steadily been recovering. Only one day, he snaps and escapes the institution disguised as a nun. His psychologist, Dr. Clairborne, is worried that Norman will go on another killing spree. But his fears are unfounded: Norman’s charred remains are soon discovered in the car he used to escape. It seems that Norman Bates is truly dead… but if that’s the case, who was it who murdered Sam Loomis and his wife Lila, the two people responsible for Norman’s incarceration in the first place?</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/04/psycho-ii.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-88797512588558531052013-04-05T07:49:00.004-04:002013-04-05T08:00:44.568-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SlGh2pEmZv8/UV65rvCl7OI/AAAAAAAAEPI/k0PdHtNWs4E/s1600/psycho.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SlGh2pEmZv8/UV65rvCl7OI/AAAAAAAAEPI/k0PdHtNWs4E/s320/psycho.jpg" width="204"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The iconic cover with &quot;cracked&quot; lettering</td></tr></tbody></table>Life isn’t easy when you’re running a motel in the middle of nowhere. And Norman Bates is doing just that with his life, stuck running the Bates Motel and taking care of his elderly mother, a monster in frilly clothing whose hobbies include psychological torture and preventing her son from having a life away from her. She will go to extreme measures to do this… even commit murder…</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">… which is precisely what Mother does when Mary Crane comes to the motel, fresh from stealing $40,000 from her employer. Mary is en route to see her fiancé, hoping that the money will help pay off his personal debts and get married sooner. But she decides to drop in at the Bates Motel, where Norman develops a boyish crush on her, even though the years of psychological abuse have left him afraid to so much as touch a woman. Mother doesn’t like this, and so when Mary goes to take a shower, Mother storms into the bathroom:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mary started to scream, and then the curtains parted further and a hand appeared, holding a butcher’s knife. It was the knife that, a moment later, cut off her scream. And her head.</i></div></blockquote><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/04/psycho.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-12258194415649735312013-04-02T22:00:00.000-04:002013-04-02T22:00:07.771-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ranPIef8EUM/UVuM37O7ALI/AAAAAAAAEOU/r7qz7FKb9Do/s1600/The+Beast+Must+Die+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ranPIef8EUM/UVuM37O7ALI/AAAAAAAAEOU/r7qz7FKb9Do/s320/The+Beast+Must+Die+01.jpg" width="208"></a></div><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I am going to kill a man. I don’t know his name, I don’t know where he lives, I have no idea what he looks like. But I am going to find him and kill him …”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">Thus begins the diary of Frank Cairnes, an author of detective stories under the pseudonym Felix Lane. But this isn’t a notebook in which he will set down the details of a fictional murder plot: he truly intends to find a man and murder him. But what could prompt a sane man to turn to murder?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">It turns out Frank had a son named Martie, and a few months ago he had gone into the village to buy some sweets. That was when he got run over by a careless motorist; poor Martie never stood a chance. The police have been unable to trace the motorist responsible for the death, and he never stopped nor reported the accident. That man is the titular beast in Nicholas Blake’s novel <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Beast Must Die</i>, and when he is murdered, Cairnes’ journal is found and he immediately becomes the prime suspect. But Nigel Strangeways isn’t convinced…</div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/04/a-closed-book.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-18817072608542088942013-03-29T10:26:00.000-04:002013-03-29T10:26:26.857-04:00<a href="http://www.mystericale.com/index.php?issue=current_issue&amp;body=cover">The new issue of <i>Mysterical-E</i> is now up</a> after a delay, and I'm back with a column I wrote back in November. The column is entitled <i>Elementary, My Dear Holmes!</i> and <a href="http://www.mystericale.com/index.php?issue=current_issue&amp;body=file&amp;file=holmes_article.html">you can find it here</a>. In the column I take a very general look at some notable Holmesian pastiches, both good and not-so-good. I spell out my conclusions about <i>Sherlock</i> and its American derivative, <i>Elementary</i>, and why one show gets Holmes so right and the other gets Holmes so wrong.&nbsp; <br /><br /><i>Note: Unfortunately there are no accompanying images to break up the block of text, but some day I will reprint the article on here complete with illustrations.</i>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-19831341602148813552013-03-28T07:04:00.000-04:002013-03-28T07:11:44.338-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NDpgHLRmiVU/UVQihhM7UaI/AAAAAAAAENo/f003Z1naoso/s1600/Bestiaire+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NDpgHLRmiVU/UVQihhM7UaI/AAAAAAAAENo/f003Z1naoso/s400/Bestiaire+01.jpg" width="272"></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">One of the most fascinating aspects of the Sherlock Holmes stories are the <i>untold </i>stories. For as long as I can remember I have been a fan of Holmes. I was very young when I read my first three adventures—I ‘m positive that two of them were <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Norwood Builder</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Speckled Band</i>, and I <u>think</u> the third may have been <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Red-Headed League</i>. One of the things that’s always intrigued me, though, are the references Watson makes to some of Holmes’ other adventures.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">And it turns out I’m not alone in this. Many authors have tried expanding on these references, one of the most famous collections being <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Exploits of Sherlock Holmes. </i>It’s a collaboration between Adrian Conan Doyle and John Dickson Carr, with the two men sharing the writing duties on the first six stories and Conan Doyle writing the final six on his own – the quality takes a nosedive after the first half, but some of the stories in the first half are absolute gems. But is it mere coincidence that some of the most fascinating references involve animals?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">Think about it. There’s the Giant Rat of Sumatra, a mythical beast that sounds so awesome, I can’t resist capitalising its name (even though it appears in lowercase in the canon). There’s the affair involving the politician, the lighthouse, and the cormorant. There’s that mysterious worm unknown to science, and the sinister-sounding red leech. All of these sound like terrific ideas for Holmes stories… but unfortunately, Sir Arthur never got around to them. But the next-best thing is available in French: René Reouven’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Le Bestiaire de Sherlock Holmes</i> (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sherlock Holmes’ Bestiary</i>). In this book, Reouven tackles Sherlock Holmes as only he can, and he delivers four stories about various animals that are referred to throughout the canon.</div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/03/the-beasts-of-holmes.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-11716133286729814362013-03-26T12:08:00.001-04:002013-03-27T11:11:13.860-04:00Wow.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M3phWcTaOLA/T7CThWklKZI/AAAAAAAAB5w/AiyCqNBqjo4/s1600/crimeBig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M3phWcTaOLA/T7CThWklKZI/AAAAAAAAB5w/AiyCqNBqjo4/s320/crimeBig.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>Honestly, that's all I can say. I opened up a Blogger account and created <i>At the Scene of the Crime </i>two years ago today. Long-time readers might recall that my debut post was a video review, to date the only one I've done. It's also one of my very worst reviews, and I'm surprised that after a video like that I wasn't chased off the Internet by a group of irate readers armed with knives and pitchforks.<br /><br />But no, the mystery blogging community is a very forgiving one, and I soon found myself doing reviews on a regular basis. I've re-discovered some old favourites, and I've found new ones. I became an avid e-book reader thanks to The Mysterious Press. I've gained an appreciation for subgenres that I may have marginalized before starting this blog. I got to virtually meet some authors that I've admired tremendously, such as Paul Halter, Peter Lovesey, and René Reouven. I finally met my match in Harry Stephen Keeler. I re-read the entire James Bond series. I've finally discovered a story about the giant rat of Sumatra that has left me satisfied! (Tune in for that within the next week.) I grew a beard and shaved it off. The blog went through two major redesigns. I even started getting enough spam comments to be forced to remove Anonymous commenting! (I apologize to all users who do not wish to sign up for a Google account, but the spam was rapidly getting out of control one week, and it was all coming from anonymous spammers. I think I removed all traces of their visits, but if you spot one of their comments lying around feel free to let me know.) In general, the last two years have been a bit of a crazy ride.<br /><br />Thank you for everyone who stops in to read this blog! Your encouragement, as well as the discussions we've had (both agreements and disagreements), have helped to fuel my enthusiasm for the last two years.<br /><br />Last year, to commemorate my one-year anniversary, I held a month-long celebration full of crossover reviews and articles. However, I realized that I had no way to top such a performance this year. So I decided early on that I had no intention to try. Instead, I decided to commemorate this anniversary in a smaller way. I began earlier today by posting my review of Jeffery Deaver's <i>Carte Blanche</i>, the very first James Bond continuation that I've read.<br /><br />The second part of the celebration has been a long time coming: it's the second episode of <i>Fair and Foul Play</i>. This was delayed by exams and by the blog redesign, and I hope readers will forgive me. I didn't intend to have such a delay between the two parts of an episode, and it won't happen with the next episode. There <i>might</i>, however, be a longer delay between episodes, i.e. the end of episode 1 and the start of episode 2.<br /><br />But to return to the subject at hand, I hope you will enjoy listening to the conclusion of the "mysteries in audio" segment of <i>Fair and Foul Play</i>. In this conclusion, I rejoin Sergio for a discussion that picks up where we left off discussing audiobooks, radio plays, and other mysteries set in the world of audio. Due to some tech issues, the images I used to illustrate the video all disappeared and I cannot explain why, but the audio itself is intact. I therefore suggest listening to this video as though it were a radio broadcast, which is only appropriate considering the subject matter. (And hopefully YouTube will be more co-operative next time!) I made some minor tweaks to the opening credits, but the show's format remains unchanged.<br /><br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/MzuYaYJLrZw?rel=0" width="560"></iframe>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-90023554124394269112013-03-26T07:06:00.001-04:002013-03-26T07:09:12.075-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rlOwlmI3IO8/UVGAeN4dDaI/AAAAAAAAENE/tQUcC01BF-U/s1600/carte+blanche+02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rlOwlmI3IO8/UVGAeN4dDaI/AAAAAAAAENE/tQUcC01BF-U/s320/carte+blanche+02.jpg" width="207"></a>Jeffery Deaver is an internationally acclaimed thriller author with whose work I am unfamiliar. But I know this much about him: he’s one of the many authors to try his hand at a James Bond pastiche. I’ve never read any of them, having confined my Bond reading to the original Ian Fleming novels. But I was open to the idea. After all, I read plenty of Sherlock Holmes pastiches back in the day and enjoyed them fine, what’s so different in concept about a James Bond pastiche? And so I approached Deaver’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Carte Blanche</i> with some real hope. I was expecting a solid read.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">Basically, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Carte Blanche</i> is Bond in modern day. Some signals are intercepted and the secret service finds out that Some Villains are behind a Nefarious Plot. Bond’s mission is to stop it, of course, but that doesn’t mean he can’t romance the beautiful ladies he comes across, and it sure doesn’t stop our villains from being over-the-top and dramatic. Our villain is Severan Hydt, a Dutch-born megalomaniac whose everyday cover is that of an environmentalist, running a waste disposal corporation. He also gets his jollies while viewing dead corpses. His sidekick is Niall Dunne, an Irishman from Belfast who thinks of everything and is the deadliest villain Bond has faced since the last Irishman in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">From Russia with Love</i>.</div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/03/what-twist.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-67695388975335338802013-03-25T07:16:00.003-04:002013-03-25T07:16:59.299-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0c7P45EBzhA/UVAx6RYLk0I/AAAAAAAAEMk/_y6vheUhtRY/s1600/Stranger+in+my+grave+03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0c7P45EBzhA/UVAx6RYLk0I/AAAAAAAAEMk/_y6vheUhtRY/s320/Stranger+in+my+grave+03.jpg" width="203"></a></div>Daisy Harker ought to be grateful for the kind of life she is leading. Her husband is attentive and loving and he even has a good relationship with his mother-in-law, who lives nearby. By all accounts, Daisy should be basking in glory, having attained the American Dream. Her life couldn’t possibly get any better. But Daisy happens to be in a Margaret Millar novel, and she’s about to discover that her life has many secrets completely unknown to her. This is Millar’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Stranger in My Grave</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">It all starts with a nightmare. In this nightmare, Daisy discovers that she is dead. While walking her dog, she came across her own headstone in the cemetery, giving her date of death in 1955. But why should that be? Daisy is very much alive, and cannot recall anything special about the day in question. Her husband tells her to forget about it, and her mother does the same. But then Daisy’s estranged father gives her a call. He asks her to pay a man named Steve Pinata, who has just bailed him out of prison.</div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/03/ask-for-me-tomorrow-and-you-shall-find.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-499247432649483938.post-92230306812638180172013-03-23T17:10:00.001-04:002013-03-23T17:10:53.097-04:00<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oZtPqppj4Bg/UU4Zci2nvMI/AAAAAAAAEMQ/fNV_WSu1fns/s1600/ripped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oZtPqppj4Bg/UU4Zci2nvMI/AAAAAAAAEMQ/fNV_WSu1fns/s320/ripped.jpg" width="213"></a></div>Katie Lennox is a teenager from modern-day London, and she wishes she were someone else. Her parents died in a tragic accident a few years ago, and so she left her native Massachusetts to live with her Grandma Cleaves in London. The only person left for Katie is her sister, but her band has recently hit it big and she has been spending all her time on the other side of the pond.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">So one day, Katie goes to Madame Tussauds, where a Jack the Ripper exhibition is taking place. All of a sudden, she finds herself in a dress back in London of 1888. Katie decides to stay behind and find out just who Jack the Ripper is, and we’re off to the races. How hard could it be to discover the Ripper’s true identity? After all, Katie has seen plenty of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">CSI</i>…<br></div><a href="http://at-scene-of-crime.blogspot.com/2013/03/all-work-and-no-play-makes-jack-dull-boy.html#more">Read more...</a>Patrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01844617192737950378noreply@blogger.com2