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Christmas comes early to the Ramblings! @BL_Publishing #BLCC #thepocketdetective

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Normally I’m one of those people who get a bit scratchy about the rampant commercialism in the shops, and the fact that Christmas items start sneaking onto the shelves as early as September; however, an unexpected arrival at the Ramblings courtesy of the wonderful peeps at British Library Publishing set me thinking about festive gifts, and I have to say it will be the ideal thing for anyone who loves Golden Age crime!

This is it – “The Pocket Detective”, compiled by Kate Jackson:

And great fun it is too! I was in the BL earlier in the year with my BFF J.; we’re both fans of the Crime Classics and were investigating the shop while visiting the place, and I’m pretty sure there was a poster up advertising this little book. It wasn’t available yet, but I imagine is being launched for the Christmas market, for which it’s of course perfect. It’s a fairly safe bet that fans of GA crime are also going to like puzzles (as the latter is a major element of the genre) and “The Pocket Detective” is stuffed with them.

There are crosswords; word searches; cross out the word; odd ones out; missing vowels; really, every kind of word-based puzzle you could imagine. Those would be treat enough, but the book goes a little further with a section about 30 pages long featuring colour visual puzzles. These are drawn from the wonderful cover images of the Crime Classics which have been tweaked or distorted so you have to spot the differences or identify which book the image is from. Great fun!

Although the focus is naturally on the books the BL publish, the riddles aren’t restricted to just those. In fact, they cover all manner of classic crime, and I was pleased to find that I sailed through several of the Agatha Christie-themed tests! (Well – I have been reading her work since I was about 12!) Sayers is there too, as well as the newly rediscovered names from the Crime Classics, and it’s fun to pit yourself against the compiler’s ingenious conundrums. Jackson blogs about classic crime fiction at Cross Examining Crime, and she obviously knowns her stuff!

Obviously, “The Pocket Detective” is the perfect gift; either for the reader of crime in your life, or just yourself! I can imagine that it would be the ideal thing to occupy yourself with while everyone else is sleeping off Christmas lunch – or in fact at any other time of the day. It’s ideal as the darker nights draw in, and I can see it keeping me very busy (and distracting me from actual reading) over forthcoming weeks. Do yourself a favour – add it to your Christmas wishlist… ๐Ÿ˜‰

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A murder in the House of Commons! @BL_Publishing #BLCC #EllenWilkinson

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The Division Bell Mystery by Ellen Wilkinson

Well, I guess that’s the first time in a while that I’ve read the complete fiction works of an author in such a short period… As far as I can tell, Wilkinson only wrote the two fiction books I’ve now covered on the Ramblings, and that’s a real shame. “Clash” was a stirring tale of love, politics and ideology; “The Division Bell Mystery” is a perhaps more conventional story, focusing on a murder which takes place in the House of Commons. However, Wilkinson the author shines through here too, in what is a very satisfying read.

The book is set in the House of Commons, and our main protagonist is Robert West, a good-looking young (Conservative) parliamentary private secretary, attached to the Home Secretary. It’s worth noting that the book was published in 1932, a time of financial instability in the UK (and indeed the world); and this instability is reflected in the book, as negotiations are taking place for the Government to get a loan of foreign money. Reclusive American financier Georges Oissel, an old friend of the Home Secretary, has agreed to have dinner with the latter in the House – an unusual occurrence in itself, and one that goes horribly wrong when Oissel is found dead just after the Division Bell* is rung for a vote.

Through the double clamour of Big Ben and the shrill sound of the bell rang a revolver shot.

At first, it seems like suicide; but why would such a rich man with no need to die do such a thing? Oissel’s beautiful granddaughter, Annette, is convinced that it’s murder, and soon the police, led by Inspector Blackitt, are of the same opinion. West is encouraged to investigate, assisted by his old friend Dan Shaw, a friendly reporter Sancroft, fiery Labour politician Gracie Richards, Lord Dalbeattie, and a whole host of other characters. What appears to be a locked-room mystery is complicated by a burglary on Oissel’s flat taking place at the same time as the murder, and the fact that the Government must fight off questions and challenges from the opposition whilst trying to deal with what is a very delicate situation. Will Robert solve the crime (or will, indeed, somebody else?) Will Robert stop swooning over Annette? Does Kinnaird, a close friend of Annette’s who could be in financial difficulties, know more than he’s letting on? Is the Home Secretary without guilt? And how will the Prime Minister handle the hostility from the opposing party?

“The Division Bell Mystery” is a twisty and entertaining book with an engrossing puzzle, likeable characters and plenty of red herrings. On their own, these elements alone would make it worth reading. However, where it actually excels is in the picture it gives of what it was like to be in Parliament in the 1930s. We’re so much more familiar with the whole procedure nowadays thanks to the televising of Parliament, but one character comments rather presciently:

“We ought to film this place,” chuckled West. “Would any of us ever make a speech again if we could see how funny we looked when we are doing it?”

And I can’t help thinking that the televising of the bear garden that passes for politics might actually have had a more damaging effect than anything else in our faith in politicians…

Ellen Wilkinson by National Photo Company Collection [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

I digress. Wilkinson writes beautifully, bringing alive her setting with all its atmosphere. And as in “Clash” she’s not afraid to deal with issues, albeit in perhaps a more subtle way than her earlier book. Gracie Richards is surely a self-portrait, and I warmed to her; and although she gets to voice her opinions, there is also discussion of a world that was changing dramatically, with the young people having a very different attitude to life than the old Colonels who still believed in the Empire and the old ways. In many ways, West is stuck between the two extremes, which makes for a nuanced portrayal and a thoughtful look at the state of the UK in the early 1930s.

The House with its lighted windows seemed the quiet centre of the whirlpool that was London. A harassed Cabinet Minister negotiated with an American financier inside, and outside the raw material of their transactions, the people who elected the Minister and would have to pay interest on the loan, surged and demonstrated. They wanted bread. It wasn’t like England – Stuart-Orford was right about that. But it was the new England, and what was to be done about it?

But I need to get back to the puzzle! To be honest, as a murder mystery the book has small flaws: it *is* a little unlikely that the police wouldn’t have found the truth out sooner; there are perhaps a few too many characters in the story, meaning that Wilkinson isn’t able to give them the attention they deserve; and the doe-eyed devotion of West to Annette is as irritating to me as it obviously was to Gracie Fisher… And although the ending was quietly dramatic, I would have liked a little more of the aftermath, and to find out what happened later to the various participants. It’s a shame Wilkinson didn’t write any more mysteries, as I did love many of her characters and would have liked to follow their future adventures; although I suppose there are only so many murders you can set in the House of Commons without getting into Midsomer-Murders-silliness territory…

Nevertheless, “The Division Bell Mystery” is a worthy and important addition to the British Library Crime Classics series. It’s always entertaining, surprisingly thought-provoking and like “Clash” quite ahead of its time in places. Wilkinson obviously relished being part of the Parliamentary system and believed that it was a system that worked; although she’s refreshingly cynical at time, indicating that it’s the Civil Servants who run the country and not the actually politicians. I wonder if that still holds true? The book comes with a preface by Rachel Reeves, a Labour MP, and is introduced as always by Martin Edwards, who considers politics in Golden Age crime novels. Reading about Parliament from the point of view of one of the earliest women M.P.s is very special, and she can’t resist the occasional nice little barb:

Women M.P.s might try to abolish this absurdity, but the House, which in the past years has swallowed whole strings of new camels, would die in the last ditch in defence of some antiquated gnat of a custom.

Discovering the books of Ellen Wilkinson has been a real treat; “Division Bell…” was as absorbing as “Clash”, albeit with a different focus, and I really do wish she’d gone on to write more books; but bearing in mind her Parliamentary record, literature’s loss was politics’ gain…

(Review copy kindly provided by British Library Crime Classics, for which many thanks!)

*For those who don’t know, Wikipedia informs us that a Division Bell is one used in the immediate neighbourhood of the Palace of Westminster (which houses Parliament) to signal that a division is occurring and that members of the House of Commons or of the House of Lords have eight minutes to get to their chosen Division lobby to vote for or against the resolution. The division bells are also sounded at the point when the house sits (at the start of its day); at the end of the two-minute prayers that start each day and when the house rises. There are approximately five hundred bells in and around the Palace of Westminster.

Discovering “Red” Ellen #Virago #BLCC #GeneralStrike #JarrowMarch

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As I mentioned in a recent post, I had a bit of bookish luck whilst on my travels to visit Family when I stumbled across a lovely old green Virago – “Clash” by Ellen Wilkinson, an author I’d only recently come across when I received a review copy of her newly reprinted British Library Crime Classic “The Division Bell Mystery”. Delving a little deeper has revealed that Wilkinson really *was* a fascinating woman.

Coming from a poor Manchester background, she nevertheless attended university, became a Communist and a trade unionist, joined the Labour Party, supported the 1926 General Strike, became Labour MP for Jarrow (and was therefore heavily involved in the iconic Jarrow March), visited Russia and war zones – well, that just scratches the surface. What an inspirational woman and what a life!

Ellen Wilkinson by National Photo Company Collection [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

I’m currently reading “Clash” and finding it completely absorbing and, depressingly enough, still very relevant. The beliefs Wilkinson gives her protagonist Joan Craig are ones I can really empathise with, and the book is really compelling.

Ahead of my full review of it, I wanted to share one particular quote which really stood out for me:

She was desperately tired, too tired even to make the effort to get back to Gordon Square. The thrills of the day, following a night on the train, had left her utterly exhausted. There came to her at that moment the queer clearness of vision that sometimes happens when the body falls asleep of itself. Through the chatter of the crowded restaurant she seemed to see England – the great steel towns of the north, the mining villages she knew so well, the little homes in which she had stayed during her organizing tours. Decent men and women working far too hard, crowded together in uncomfortable homes. Lack of obvious things like baths and hot water, lack of comforts, and, for at least five years, lack of food and warm clothes. What fine stuff they were, what excellent material out of which to build a fine race. And instead . . . muddle. Those men and women of the employing class meant well, no doubt, some of them, but, oh, their hauteur, their assumption that people, because they were manual workers, were of an inferior race! The unblushing lying to preserve a competitive system that the really intelligent among them knew was breaking down, the refusals to organize or to allow resources to be organized except on a basis that would yield excess profits to some one! They wanted inequality. They could not conceive a society without some one to bow before and others to cringe to them. The Socialist ideal of a commonwealth of equals “simple in their private lives and splendid in their public ways” made no appeal to the class that governed England in 1926. The bolder of them wanted a world in which they could gamble. The timid wanted security – Government bonds and six per cent.

So it rather seems that back in 1926 it was all about the few taking what they could from the many, and it’s shocking and saddening to find that nearly a century later little has changed. I find myself fascinated by Wilkinson and her writings, and I really do think I may head straight on to reading “The Division Bell Mystery” straight after this one!

Bookish Serendipity

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Those of you who follow me on social media may have picked up that I’ve been on my travels recently. I usually do a summer round trip to visit the Aged Parent and then the Offspring, all of whom are located fairly close together in the East Midlands. As I don’t drive, I have to make several train journeys, which are usually enjoyable; as I like to settle down with a book and a coffee and let the train take the strain, as the old slogan used to say.

However, the first leg of the journey which involves going via London was horrendous. I ended up standing all the way on a train that felt like a sardine tin and I was Not Impressed. I couldn’t even read… The rest of visit and the train travel went swimmingly, however, and I had a lovely time everywhere. Middle Child put me up (she usually does) and they all looked after me beautifully. So I had several days of socialising, eating out and of course managed to sneak in a little book shopping… (well, it wouldn’t be me if I hadn’t, would it?)

As you can see, I managed to be pretty restrained! Two new books and three second-hand is good for me, and they all felt like essential purchases.

These are the newbies. I picked up the Pessoa in Hatchards at St. Pancras Station (yes, even while rushing frantically to catch a train, I made time for shopping – and only just made my connection by the skin of my teeth…) I’ve heard such good things about the Penguin translation that I wanted to try it, and this was the first Real Bookshop I’d seen it in. The Gonzalez was a sale item in Waterstones, Kettering – ยฃ3 is a real bargain and I had this one on a mental ‘must-read’ list so that was a find!

These are two of the second-hand books, from charity shops in Kettering and Leicester. I seem to be amassing a lot of Robertson Davies without actually reading him and I must get on with it. I also have about 5 gigantic Powys books lurking. I could spend a year just reading him…

And the third second-hand book is very, very interesting:

Finding a Green Virago I want is getting harder, as I don’t intend to try to collect them all, and so I’m quite selective nowadays. “Clash” was sitting in the Age Concern Bookshop in Leicester, and the blurb on the back intrigued me – it’s set around the General Strike of 1926, and as I was feeling the need of something to counteract the hideous right-wing stuff that’s going round at the moment I grabbed it (ยฃ2 – a real bargain). It was only when I got it back to the flat and looked more closely I realised that I had a nice review copy of Wilkinson’s second book at home, waiting for me to read… Serendipity or what! I’m about a third of the way into “Clash” at the moment and loving it, and so I think I might move straight on to “Division Bell” afterwards. How exciting!

So a reasonably small haul on my travels. I did, however, arrive back to find that this lovely review copy had arrived, courtesy of Michael Walmer:

I don’t know that I even knew that F. Tennyson Jesse had a sister, but this is she, and this is her only book. Sounds like fabulous fun and I’m really looking forward to it!

Reviewing has got slightly behind while I was away – I’ve finished Marina Tsvetaeva’s Moscow Diaries for #WITmonth, and also have been dipping into Catherine the Great’s Letters. So I’ve done *some* translated women, and I am well into a Virago – hey, I’m almost sticking to my plans!! ๐Ÿ˜€

*cough* – “Arsenal!” @BL_Publishing

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The Arsenal Stadium Mystery by Leonard Gribble

Football? On the Ramblings??? Anyone who knows me will be boggling a little at the concept; because, despite having lived near a Big Footballing Town for some decades, I’m not really a fan of 22 men kicking a ball around a pitch… However, as this rather intriguing looking little book is part of the British Library Crime Classics series, I really felt I had to give it a look – and as a non-football fan I found it actually great fun!

Author Leonard Gribble was remarkably prolific; he wrote so many crime novels that he actually had to adopt several pseudonyms. “The Arsenal Stadium Mystery” was originally published in 1939, and features Gribble’s regular detecting team of Detective Inspector Slade and Sgt. Clinton. However, as Martin Edwards’ excellent introduction makes clear, the book has some very interesting aspects to it. For a start, the actual Arsenal squad of 1939 are featured in the book as characters! The book was launched as something of a film tie-in, as a movie of the book was also released in 1939 starring Leslie Banks as Slade. This is quite audacious and probably unusual marketing for the time, and the book also came with facsimiles of the squad’s signatures, which are reproduced in the BL edition. The film apparently also featured members of the team plus manager George Allison, so the whole thing tied together well!

The Arsenal crest in 1939

But what of the book as a detective novel? Well, it opens with the Gunners (ha!) taking on a fictitious amateur side, the Trojans, in a friendly match at Highbury (then the Arsenal home ground). However, halfway through the match, one of the players drops dead on the pitch (fortunately, not a real Arsenal man but one of the Trojans…) It soon transpires that John Doyce has been murdered; but how on earth could that happen in the middle of a match, with no obvious weapon in sight? The cause of death is eventually tracked down, but the murderer is more elusive, and there are several candidates as Doyce was a womaniser and not a popular man. One of the other players has no reason to like Doyce, as the latter was messing around with his girlfriend. However, there are links to a death in the past, and it will take all of Slade’s ingenuity to solve the crime and save the name of The Beautiful Game from being dragged through the mud.

The dispersal of seventy thousand spectators is not achieved in a few minutes. At the top of Highbury Hill foot and mounted police controlled the queues invading the Arsenal Station of the Underground. More mounted police kept the crowd in Avenell Road on the move. All the tributary roads were choked with cars that had been parked throughout the game. A score of taxi-drivers who had seen an opportunity of combining business with pleasure that afternoon now tried to work their cabs through the throng, which took singularly small notice of honking horns and verbal exasperation. Peanut vendors and newsboys were exercising their lungs and taking a steady flow of coppers for their trouble. Over the crown hung a pall of tobacco smoke and dust.

“Arsenal…” was a really enjoyable mystery which rattled along at a good pace, with plenty of sleuthing, not too much football, a bit of romance on the side and plenty of characters with axes to grind. Slade and Clinton, in particular, made an entertaining team, with Clinton sticking obstinately to what seemed to him the obvious solution while Slade went off into the psychology of the case and the suspects. The latter is probably the best drawn character in the book, although I was quite fond of several of the main Trojan characters who by necessity took a more prominent position in the book; the Arsenal team were mainly more what you would call bit parts, apart from real-life manager George Allison who took quite a leading role. I had a wee inkling of who the murderer might be about halfway through, although I wasn’t sure, and although I turned out to be right the ending was nevertheless very satisfying.

“Preposterous?” Slade shrugged. “Read the evidence of most murder trials which result in a verdict of guilty. Most of it is preposterous. Because a great deal of human behaviour is preposterous. But we rarely confess the fact.”

So “The Arsenal Stadium Mystery” ended up being a worthy addition to the BLCC series. The writing may occasionally lack the sophistication of, say, a Sayers, but it makes up for this with a twisty plot, energetic action and some particularly effective prose when scene-setting. The clever publicity stunt of tying the book in with the film (which also featured the Arsenal squad) gives it an extra frisson, but this element doesn’t mean you have to like football to enjoy the book (although if you’re a fan of the game or Arsenal it will be a bit more special). It’s a fun, entertaining read, and ideal for transporting you back to times when football and its followers were less confrontational (excluding the odd murder…); also to when the concept of paying footballers stupid, stupid money would have seemed ridiculous. I did wonder whether the publication date was significant; the book came out in 1939 (the film was the November of that year), a time when the world was entering a period of turmoil and conflict, and it may have been felt that football was something to pull the nation together.

So this was a really good read and I suppose I should come clean here: although I really have no time for football nowadays, back when I was 10 I had a brief phase of following the game, and Arsenal were my team! I soon grew out of it, but nevertheless I suppose I should have been reading this book whilst cheering on Arsenal! Up the Gunners!! :))

NB – if you understand what I’m on about with the heading of this post, you’re obviously as old as I am…. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Why a visit to London is *very* dangerous for a bibliophile… #bookfinds

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Those of you who follow me on social media might have noticed I shared a little photo of a pile of books in the lovely Foyles cafe yesterday. I met up with my dear friend J. for a day out to celebrate the start of the summer break (a little tradition we seem to be developing), and by that point we were hot and laden with books. I’m afraid this is going to be a bit of a book haul post, as we *both* got a little carried away!

The joy of train travelling is being able to read – I devoured this marvellous book over the outward and return journey!

Often we meet up with a tight agenda of an exhibition to see and specific places to go, but yesterday we’d kept things loose. I had specifically said I wanted to pop into the British Library – apart from the fact it’s just a place of worship for anyone who loves books, they had a little display in their Treasure Room devoted to Karl and Eleanor Marx. Both are fascinating figures, and I recall in my teens seeing a rather wonderful BBC drama on the life of Eleanor. So we started at the BL (after a stop for coffee and stationery in Tottenham Court Road) and the Treasure Room was just wonderful. I found it ridiculously exciting to see Marx’s Reading Room slip from all those decades ago and the whole room itself is inspirational. As I pointed out to J., there was a perfect trio of manuscripts for us on display next to each other in one of the cases – Woolf, Peake and Plath. Such an inspirational place to visit, and we managed to successfully get out of the shop without purchasing after spending some time admiring a lovely display of British Library Crime Classics!

In keeping with our plan of no real plan, we ambled off and J. suggested that as we were quite close to Skoob Books we could drop in. It’s a dangerous place which I’ve only visited once, but I couldn’t resist the idea. However, as we flaneured our way in the general direction of the Brunswick Centre we happened upon a likely looking bookshop I don’t think I’ve been aware of before – Judd Books in Marchmont Street. It would of course have been rude not to go in and so we did. And this was the result for me…

The shop is a mixture of second-hand and what look to me to be remaindered books, including a lot of US editions, and was oh! so tempting. I was distracted by a number of titles, but ended up with the two above. I couldn’t not come home with the Orwell – ’nuff said. As for Khodasevich’s poems, that one was a must. I’ve only stumbled across him recently and whilst havering away trying to decide I flicked through the book. A stunning poem called “Look for Me” hit me in the eye and I was sold. It’s a beautiful hardback Overlook/Ardis edition in dual language, with translations by Peter Daniels, and so even though I can’t read Russian I can gaze in awe at the beauty of the cyrillic script while appreciating the efforts of Daniels. J. was very happy with Judd as well as she tracked down a lovely hardback edition of Willa Cather’s letters from her wishlist. So we thought this was a propitious start and drifted on in the direction of Skoob.

And as you can see, I didn’t get out unscathed… The Machado de Assis was a no-brainer as I’ve really enjoyed all of his books I’ve read so far, plus it’s a pretty little Peter Owen edition. The Maigret has a relevant year to an upcoming event (!) – plus will also give me a chance to try one of the new translations. I thought I was getting off quite lightly until I saw the Penguin Russian Writing Today anthology on my way to the till. Oh well…. J. was even happier than earlier as she found a nice edition of a Cather novel she doesn’t have – it was a Cather kind of day for her.

After this it was a bus to Foyles for tea and regrouping. Foyles itself (and its tea!) is always such a delight, and I was sorely tempted by a gigantic biography of Eleanor Marx (a Verso edition) but decided that my shoulders wouldn’t take it. J. however was seduced by a Thames and Hudson book on Frida Kahlo (we’re visiting the V& exhibition later in the year) so added to her bulging rucksack. We decided to take a break from bookshops and trotted (well, strolled at a very leisurely pace) down Charing Cross Road to make a detour into the Cas art shop (again, I bought nothing although J. invested in some art materials) and then on into the National Portrait Gallery.

This was just a flying visit, as we both have a fondness for the wonderful Allan Ramsay self-portrait that hangs there and always pop into the NPG to say hello. As the heat was increasing, we decided to bus back up to Tottenham Court Road and got distracted again by a shop called Hema – a new one to us, but it had Stationery Which Could Not Be Resisted – oh dear… After more drinks and sitting down, we decided we were too close to the LRB bookshop and the craft shop next door to say no, and paid both a visit. Again, I succeeded in restraint, but our decision to drop by the lovely Bloomsbury Oxfam was not so successful…

I thought the two Bowles books I own comprised her meagre published output, but not so it seems. This lovely volume from Sort Of collects stories, plays, sketches and letters. Again, not to be resisted…

We had just about reached our limit of endurance of heat and heavy bags, but I was still vaguely irked that the only options for books about Eleanor Marx were mahoosive. So I persuaded J. into Bookmarks, the left-wing bookstore over the road and hurrah!

Bookmarks publish a little series of “Rebel’s Guide” books and one of their subjects was indeed Eleanor Marx! It was the last copy left and of a much more manageable size!

So these were my bookish purchases yesterday:

And I don’t regret a single one! However, the story doesn’t end there, because J. arrived with some books for me which were charity shop finds she’d read and was passing on to me. However, she didn’t tell me she was bringing six.… And unfortunately I hadn’t brought a backpack so she very bravely and stoutly carted them round all day until we exchanged books at the end of the day (I had brought one for her to borrow) – now that’s friendship. And here they are:

There are only five in the picture as one of the six was a return of my copy of Guard Your Daughters which J. had borrowed.

Phew! Four nice BLCCs and a lovely Virago edition of Gertrude Stein – how wonderful! But how heavy!! They took a bit of lugging home, I can tell you…

The blog’s trusty tote guarding the books while I have a meal in Leon!

Fortunately, I had come armed with my trusty KBR tote – a gift from Middle Child which always goes to London with me, and which although small is perfectly formed and manages to hold a surprising number of books; and also enables effective smuggling of them past OH who was feeling vaguely tense at the arrival of the six from J. There was a reason for this, as a package had arrived while I was away gallivanting containing these:

I think the BL are going into overdrive, but I’m always delighted to have review books from them – these two are out in September, and I’m very keen to read them, as Symons’ books were about a lot in my younger years. However, I can empathise a little with OH’s concern – he muttered something about having to build an annexe to the house and he has a point. I think this summer will need to see a little more pruning of books….

But all in all itย  was a lovely (if warm) day out in London. It’s always wonderful to meet up with an old friend, and J. is great company. I need to put in a word for the Leon chain of restaurants too – a recent discovery for me and to which I was introduced by J. I paid two visits yesterday – one so that J. could get a late breakfast, and one for a meal later before journeying home. Their vegan options are excellent and well worth a visit!

Meantime, I need to have another bit of a book shuffle – oh dear…. =:o

British Library Crime Classics – and trains!!! @shinynewbooks @BL_Publishing

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Ahem.

As you can see, I am a little behind on my reading and reviewing of the latest releases in the wonderful British Library Crime Classics series….

However, I *have* read one title in the series recently, a rather wonderful collection of short works featuring (you’ve guessed it!) trains and entitled “Blood on the Tracks”. Put together by the excellent Martin Edwards, it’s a really strong entry into the series and absolutely unputdownable.

The book has the added bonus of a Sherlock Holmes pastiche and Lord Peter Wimsey (not in the same story, of course…) I can’t recommend this one highly enough and you can read my full review over at Shiny New Books! ๐Ÿ™‚

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