Here we have an Edwardian Action Thriller; plain and simple.
The protagonist is a perfectly ordinary British chap (by which I mean a fairly wealthy middle-class London-dwelling Scotsman whose main problem in life is boredom) who gets himself embroiled in a sinister plot against the Government of Great Britain! Hannay (our ordinary chap) ends up with an allied spy being murdered in his flat, and takes the initiative to flee to his native Scotland to avoid being arrested for the murder. With the sinister 'Black Stone' organisation on his tail, Hannay flees across the wilds, sleeping rough, and pulling every trick he knows in order to escape detection by the Black Stone and the police. The Black Stone, it transpires, are a group of German spies who are collecting information for the Kaiserreich in preparation for the First World War, and the only thing Hannay can truly rely on is his unwavering sense of patriotism.
It could have been awful, but it wasn't. I have heard a lot about the invasion literature of the Edwardian era, when a lot of writers took advantage of the popular anti-German paranoia of the age and wrote stories about how Germany had spies planted all over Britain and were preparing to invade and destroy the British nation forever. The most famous example of this is The Riddle of the Sands by Robert Erskine Childers. It is a curious thing that the First World War took nobody by surprise when it eventually happened, what with so many books being written about it before 1914. But anyway, this is about fiction, not history, so back to Hannay's incredible adventure and how he saved Britain.
I make it a rule of mine to know as little about a book as possible before I read it, so that I have few preconcieved notions to alter my appreciation of the story. I went into The Thrity-Nine Steps virtually blind, having only heard the title before, and hearing my Grandfather saying about how film adaptations significantly altered the plot. When I was reading it I had no idea what it was going to be about, aside from that it was a thriller, and so it took me a good deal of time to realise precisely what time it was meant to be set in. It was only due to a few very small clues in the text that gave me the impression it was pre-First World War, some time between 1912 and 1914, but altogether I found the lack of help from this front to be a minor concern. I have only just discovered from Wikipedia that it was written during the war, so that helps put it in context.
I wasn't that impressed when I first started reading it, but as Hannay got deeper into the Scottish counrtyside it began to grow on me. I quite liked his sense of being on-the-run, that his adventure was fuelled largely by paranoia, but in this case 'they' really were out to get him. Occasionally he would stop at an isolated cottage and beg lodgings with them, and eat at their tables, but the lovely rural Scots were always too polite to accept his payment for their kindness, every single time! On later occasions he would have to argue them into taking his money, which would leave him feeling a little rotten for forcing them to accept his thanks. It just feels terribly British for some reason.
So yes, I would recommend this book. It's not a hard slog, and I quite enjoyed the ending. Go back to spy novels from before Ian Fleming, where spy-work was practically a fee trade. And for those who want to know a shocking historican truth, the British Secret Service was formed due to concerns that German barbers living in Britain were actually agents of the Second Reich. I kid you not.
Wednesday 21 November 2012
Wednesday 14 November 2012
Around the World in Eighty Days, by Jules Verne
I am not generally a fan of Victorian literature, as I find that it is usually long-winded and humourless. Fortunately Jules Verne is not like this; this novel of his has a sensible pace and an enjoyable story, giving it two things lacking from others of its period.
Just as a side note, one of my least favourite books of all time is Of Human Bondage, by W. Somerset Maugham. It is not quite a piece of Victorian literature, having been written at the beginning of the twentieth century, but it possesses many of the things I most loathe and detest about reading, things that I associate with the Victorian writers; incredible length, a distinct lack of humour, and writing that bores to tears. I know I'm not doing Maugham's work justice here but I'm just presenting a brief view here to contrast with Around the World in Eighty Days, which does not do any of this.
So then, the story can be briefly summarized as follows; an eccentric Englishman by the name of Phileas Fogg, a reserved gentleman even by the standards of the day, accepts a wager from some colleages of his that he can circumnavigate the world in no more than eighty days. After betting half his fortune on the venture, Fogg drags along his newly hired French valet Passepartout for the ride and uses the other half of his money to oil the wheels of the journey.
Most of the time they spend riding on trains and ships, but there are brief times when they have to resort to more exotic forms of transport, namely an elephant and a sledge. There was no hot-air balloon; that was an invention of the movies. There is a brief paragraph in which the idea of a balloon is discussed, in the later chapters, but it is dismissed as a stupid idea.
What is good about this book? As I said before it is easily digestible, and the writing has a certain amount of humour about it; particularly in its descriptions of Fogg's lack of sociable characteristics. Much of the first chapter is devoted to listing the many fine organisations and clubs in London, saying that Mister Fogg belongs to none of them. Fogg's sole intention for the journey are to prove that such a feat can in fact be achieved, and as such he makes no intention to see the places that he visits, leaving the sightseeing to Passepartout to do for him. In fact, Fogg's only real pleasure in life is the popular card game Whist, the only reason that Fogg has for socialising; he spends most of his idle time during the jouney playing the game with his fellow passengers.
Another thing I like about the writing of this book is the good-natured stereotyping of English and Americans by Verne. In one section, Passepartout is watching the engine aboard one of the many ships, and remarks to himself:
"Those valves aren't properly weighted!" he cried. "We aren't moving! That's just like the English! Oh, if this were an American ship, we might blow up, but at least we'd be going faster!"
Ah, it brings a smile to my face to hear both the English and Americans being spoken of in that way by the French; just a casual, good-humoured jibe, one of the things that I love about Asterix, as it happens. Maybe the French just have a natural knack for this sort of thing.
One final good thing worth mentioning about Around the World in Eighty Days is that it is a celebration of progress; Jules Verne was primarily a science-fiction writer, but here it is a case of 'The Future is Now,' in the Nineteenth Century. At the time of the writing of this book, the world had only just seen the changes necessary in order to see such a trip become possible. A trip round the world, in 1872, was invariably a tour of the British Empire. We are used, nowadays, to viewing the British Empire and the growth of the United States in a negative light, but in the time of the Victorians there was something to be said for having railways that spanned continents, and ports which served as the mixing pots of new cultures.
So then, in conclusion, I enjoyed this book. I liked the character of Phileas Fogg, who is single-minded enough to get around the world in the alotted time no matter the cost, but who is honourable enough to throw everything away in order to rescue his faithful valet from capture, or an Indian princess from certain death. And he knows that a hot-air balloon is not a speedy form of transport. I like the way that he embarks on the journey not for the money, but in order to prove that it was possible. I like Verne's writing style, closer to Jerome K. Jerome than to W. Somerset Maugham, so I might well seek out more of his works after this; a compliment I very rarely bestow on a writer.
Just as a side note, one of my least favourite books of all time is Of Human Bondage, by W. Somerset Maugham. It is not quite a piece of Victorian literature, having been written at the beginning of the twentieth century, but it possesses many of the things I most loathe and detest about reading, things that I associate with the Victorian writers; incredible length, a distinct lack of humour, and writing that bores to tears. I know I'm not doing Maugham's work justice here but I'm just presenting a brief view here to contrast with Around the World in Eighty Days, which does not do any of this.
So then, the story can be briefly summarized as follows; an eccentric Englishman by the name of Phileas Fogg, a reserved gentleman even by the standards of the day, accepts a wager from some colleages of his that he can circumnavigate the world in no more than eighty days. After betting half his fortune on the venture, Fogg drags along his newly hired French valet Passepartout for the ride and uses the other half of his money to oil the wheels of the journey.
Most of the time they spend riding on trains and ships, but there are brief times when they have to resort to more exotic forms of transport, namely an elephant and a sledge. There was no hot-air balloon; that was an invention of the movies. There is a brief paragraph in which the idea of a balloon is discussed, in the later chapters, but it is dismissed as a stupid idea.
What is good about this book? As I said before it is easily digestible, and the writing has a certain amount of humour about it; particularly in its descriptions of Fogg's lack of sociable characteristics. Much of the first chapter is devoted to listing the many fine organisations and clubs in London, saying that Mister Fogg belongs to none of them. Fogg's sole intention for the journey are to prove that such a feat can in fact be achieved, and as such he makes no intention to see the places that he visits, leaving the sightseeing to Passepartout to do for him. In fact, Fogg's only real pleasure in life is the popular card game Whist, the only reason that Fogg has for socialising; he spends most of his idle time during the jouney playing the game with his fellow passengers.
Another thing I like about the writing of this book is the good-natured stereotyping of English and Americans by Verne. In one section, Passepartout is watching the engine aboard one of the many ships, and remarks to himself:
"Those valves aren't properly weighted!" he cried. "We aren't moving! That's just like the English! Oh, if this were an American ship, we might blow up, but at least we'd be going faster!"
Ah, it brings a smile to my face to hear both the English and Americans being spoken of in that way by the French; just a casual, good-humoured jibe, one of the things that I love about Asterix, as it happens. Maybe the French just have a natural knack for this sort of thing.
One final good thing worth mentioning about Around the World in Eighty Days is that it is a celebration of progress; Jules Verne was primarily a science-fiction writer, but here it is a case of 'The Future is Now,' in the Nineteenth Century. At the time of the writing of this book, the world had only just seen the changes necessary in order to see such a trip become possible. A trip round the world, in 1872, was invariably a tour of the British Empire. We are used, nowadays, to viewing the British Empire and the growth of the United States in a negative light, but in the time of the Victorians there was something to be said for having railways that spanned continents, and ports which served as the mixing pots of new cultures.
So then, in conclusion, I enjoyed this book. I liked the character of Phileas Fogg, who is single-minded enough to get around the world in the alotted time no matter the cost, but who is honourable enough to throw everything away in order to rescue his faithful valet from capture, or an Indian princess from certain death. And he knows that a hot-air balloon is not a speedy form of transport. I like the way that he embarks on the journey not for the money, but in order to prove that it was possible. I like Verne's writing style, closer to Jerome K. Jerome than to W. Somerset Maugham, so I might well seek out more of his works after this; a compliment I very rarely bestow on a writer.
Tuesday 6 November 2012
Robert Asprin's 'Myth' Series
The Myth Adventures by Robert Asprin are a series of comic-fantasy novels that make liberal use of puns and cheap gags. They are short, simple, and quite silly.
I love them.
The plot of the series is quite simple. The main character Skeeve is an apprentice magician in a fairly generic fantasy world, studying and failing to make headway with his magical training. His tutor, a cranky old master sorcerer who lives alone in a wooden hut in the middle of a forest, is killed whilst summoning an evil demon from a far-away dimension, leaving Skeeve all alone in the world; except for the angry-looking scaly green demon who had just been summoned. The demon, Aahz, reveals that he is more cranky than evil, and that being a magician is more about image than actual power; he takes on Skeeve as his apprentice and, after teaching him a few rudimentary tricks (levitation, and a spell to disguise ones outward appearance; and that's pretty much it), they set off in order to con their way through the Magic business.
A 'demon', it turns out, is just a term used to refer to someone who travels between dimensions, people who more often than not are travelling salesmen or con-men. The plot of each book usually involves Aahz and Skeeve getting into a major problem, and with Skeeve having very little magic to call upon, they have to scam their way out of it. In the second book, for instance, Aahz pressures Skeeve into getting a job as a court magician. Having bluffed his way into the job using little more than his disguise spell, Skeeve then finds out that his first duty as court magician is to repel an invading army, using nothing but his own magical abilities and half a dozen down-at-heel mercenaries he accidentally hires in a fast food restaurant.
Robert Asprin is not the greatest writer ever to walk the Earth, and his works are definitely not ground-breaking in the originality department (he openly admits that he 'swipes plots to parody), but this really does not detract from my appreciation of these books. The titles themselves show you the levels of the puns involved, including ones such as: Another Fine Myth, Myth Conceptions, Hit or Myth, and Sweet Myth-tery of Life.
Predictable, but nonetheless hilarious. That's how I would describe these books. And that's why I continue to re-read them. There's nothing to think too long about, if a joke falls flat on its face you just have to groan, and the dynamic between Aahz and Skeeve will keep you going onwards throughout the books. And the wackiness of the plots is something that I love about them with all my heart; a plot in which the hero solves one of his problems by introducing organised crime to another dimension, only to be later hired by the authorities of that same dimension to stop the organised crime that he is responsible for having set up, is a truly magnificent thing, and shame on me for trying to do it justice here.
As a series they work quite well, at least for the first six books. They are short, easily readable, and keep you wanting more. Book 1 is a tad shallow and plotless in comparison with later installments, mostly consisting of introductions to the concepts, characters and skills which will become the bread and butter of the series, all set on a trudging journey to a defeat a vaguely threatening master wizard opponent. With this set in place, the following books can focus more on the plots, which usually consist of a situation spiraling out of all proportions, to a wonderful degree. Books seven to twelve are not quite so good, I have to say; they lose a bit of the essential fun and groan-worthiness that I get from the first six, the plots are a bit more serious, too whimsical, the same characters appearing again and again more by obligation than reason, and the struggle of contract-writing is quite evident on Asprin's style. But they are still worth reading. There are times during reading them that I still find myself laughing, though I find it happens less often during this later period than for the earlier books. There are gems to found, but it requires just slightly more effort during these. And as for the subsequent Myth books, I confess I have not read them; well, I read Myth-Alliances, but it was a far-cry from the wild days of yester-year. Apparently these later installments were co-written with Jody Lynn Nye, and after Apsrin's death in 2008 Nye has continued to write for the series. (Note: Upon providing slight edits to this review years later, I can add that a couple of new Myth books were published in 2013 and 2016. I have still not read anything past Myth-Alliances).
So yes, although I am happy to criticize them, I fully recommend Aspin's Myth series. Start at the beginning, with Another Fine Myth, and work your way through them to at least book six, undoubtedly the golden years. Finding them might be a problem, I know I had a bit of trouble hunting down the earlier books, but I consider it more than worth it.
If you want intelligent humour, impeccable writing-skill, originality, or a realistic plot, I can assure you there are better places to look, but if you just want pure and honest fun, characters you cannot help but like, and something you can read just for the pleasure of reading, then these are more than worthy a slice of time.
Bibliography
Asprin, Robert Lynn
- Another Fine Myth (1978)
- Myth Conceptions (1980)
- Myth Directions (1982)
- Hit or Myth (1983)
- Myth-ing Persons (1984)
- Little Myth Marker (1985)
- M.Y.T.H. Inc. Link (1986)
- Myth-nomers and Im-Pervections (1987)
- M.Y.T.H. Inc. in Action (1990)
- Sweet Myth-tery of Life (1993)
- Myth-ion Improbable (2001)
- Something M.Y.T.H. Inc. (2002)
Asprin, Robert Lynn and Jody Lynn Nye
- Myth-told Tales (2003)
- Myth Alliances (2003)
- Myth-taken Identity (2004)
- Class Dis-Mythed (2005)
- Myth-Gotten Gains (2006)
- Myth-Chief (2008)
- Myth-Fortunes (2008)
I love them.
The plot of the series is quite simple. The main character Skeeve is an apprentice magician in a fairly generic fantasy world, studying and failing to make headway with his magical training. His tutor, a cranky old master sorcerer who lives alone in a wooden hut in the middle of a forest, is killed whilst summoning an evil demon from a far-away dimension, leaving Skeeve all alone in the world; except for the angry-looking scaly green demon who had just been summoned. The demon, Aahz, reveals that he is more cranky than evil, and that being a magician is more about image than actual power; he takes on Skeeve as his apprentice and, after teaching him a few rudimentary tricks (levitation, and a spell to disguise ones outward appearance; and that's pretty much it), they set off in order to con their way through the Magic business.
A 'demon', it turns out, is just a term used to refer to someone who travels between dimensions, people who more often than not are travelling salesmen or con-men. The plot of each book usually involves Aahz and Skeeve getting into a major problem, and with Skeeve having very little magic to call upon, they have to scam their way out of it. In the second book, for instance, Aahz pressures Skeeve into getting a job as a court magician. Having bluffed his way into the job using little more than his disguise spell, Skeeve then finds out that his first duty as court magician is to repel an invading army, using nothing but his own magical abilities and half a dozen down-at-heel mercenaries he accidentally hires in a fast food restaurant.
Robert Asprin is not the greatest writer ever to walk the Earth, and his works are definitely not ground-breaking in the originality department (he openly admits that he 'swipes plots to parody), but this really does not detract from my appreciation of these books. The titles themselves show you the levels of the puns involved, including ones such as: Another Fine Myth, Myth Conceptions, Hit or Myth, and Sweet Myth-tery of Life.
Predictable, but nonetheless hilarious. That's how I would describe these books. And that's why I continue to re-read them. There's nothing to think too long about, if a joke falls flat on its face you just have to groan, and the dynamic between Aahz and Skeeve will keep you going onwards throughout the books. And the wackiness of the plots is something that I love about them with all my heart; a plot in which the hero solves one of his problems by introducing organised crime to another dimension, only to be later hired by the authorities of that same dimension to stop the organised crime that he is responsible for having set up, is a truly magnificent thing, and shame on me for trying to do it justice here.
As a series they work quite well, at least for the first six books. They are short, easily readable, and keep you wanting more. Book 1 is a tad shallow and plotless in comparison with later installments, mostly consisting of introductions to the concepts, characters and skills which will become the bread and butter of the series, all set on a trudging journey to a defeat a vaguely threatening master wizard opponent. With this set in place, the following books can focus more on the plots, which usually consist of a situation spiraling out of all proportions, to a wonderful degree. Books seven to twelve are not quite so good, I have to say; they lose a bit of the essential fun and groan-worthiness that I get from the first six, the plots are a bit more serious, too whimsical, the same characters appearing again and again more by obligation than reason, and the struggle of contract-writing is quite evident on Asprin's style. But they are still worth reading. There are times during reading them that I still find myself laughing, though I find it happens less often during this later period than for the earlier books. There are gems to found, but it requires just slightly more effort during these. And as for the subsequent Myth books, I confess I have not read them; well, I read Myth-Alliances, but it was a far-cry from the wild days of yester-year. Apparently these later installments were co-written with Jody Lynn Nye, and after Apsrin's death in 2008 Nye has continued to write for the series. (Note: Upon providing slight edits to this review years later, I can add that a couple of new Myth books were published in 2013 and 2016. I have still not read anything past Myth-Alliances).
So yes, although I am happy to criticize them, I fully recommend Aspin's Myth series. Start at the beginning, with Another Fine Myth, and work your way through them to at least book six, undoubtedly the golden years. Finding them might be a problem, I know I had a bit of trouble hunting down the earlier books, but I consider it more than worth it.
If you want intelligent humour, impeccable writing-skill, originality, or a realistic plot, I can assure you there are better places to look, but if you just want pure and honest fun, characters you cannot help but like, and something you can read just for the pleasure of reading, then these are more than worthy a slice of time.
Bibliography
Asprin, Robert Lynn
- Another Fine Myth (1978)
- Myth Conceptions (1980)
- Myth Directions (1982)
- Hit or Myth (1983)
- Myth-ing Persons (1984)
- Little Myth Marker (1985)
- M.Y.T.H. Inc. Link (1986)
- Myth-nomers and Im-Pervections (1987)
- M.Y.T.H. Inc. in Action (1990)
- Sweet Myth-tery of Life (1993)
- Myth-ion Improbable (2001)
- Something M.Y.T.H. Inc. (2002)
Asprin, Robert Lynn and Jody Lynn Nye
- Myth-told Tales (2003)
- Myth Alliances (2003)
- Myth-taken Identity (2004)
- Class Dis-Mythed (2005)
- Myth-Gotten Gains (2006)
- Myth-Chief (2008)
- Myth-Fortunes (2008)
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