Murder for Christmas by Thomas Godfrey

9 Days until Christmas

I’ve had these paperbacks forever —  they’re well-worn and spine-creased – but I can’t get rid of them as they were some of the few books I had in our first apartment in New Hampshire.  I would cuddle up on the couch with two afghans – (the apartment was drafty and so-o-o cold), watch the snow and secretly savor these light stories of mystery and mayhem.

A two volume selection of yuletide mysteries from some of the classic golden age authors at their best, Agatha Christie, Georges Simenon, Stanley Ellin, Ellery Queen, and famous characters such as Sherlock Holmes, Lord Peter Wimsey, and Nero Wolfe.

There are also few anomalies  (the Woody Allen story is a plum for those readers who enjoy a little metafiction), and a few obscure works (who knew Thomas Hardy wrote a Christmas mystery which didn’t end in death and despair all around?).

There are delightfully morbid Graham Wilson drawings to dispel any Christmas saccharine sweetness that may be invading your holiday. 

Dip into a short mystery as a quick break from the holiday preparations they’re sure to get you in a festive mood (aside from the murders and whatnot).

A Northern Christmas by Rockwell Kent

10 Days Until Christmas

I found this book at Bells Bookstore in Palo Alto, back when I would sneak to bookstore to escape the  high tech insanity. Bells is a wonderful family run, independent bookstore with rare and used books. If I remember, this wasn’t very expensive and the only reason I can recall where it came from is Bells bookmark is still in the book.  Barbara Wohl (now retired from the store)  is a well-known heritage rose gardener and her garden just up the street from the store is to die for. But I digress…

At merely 20 pages, I knew this tiny book with it’s decorated sleeve and cover was mine before I even opened it.  A short story which tells of a father and young son spending Christmas in a small hand built cabin in 1918, just a few miles from the Arctic Circle,   Rockwell Kent is the graphic artist probably best known for his magnificent illustrations for Moby Dick and the complete works of Shakespeare.   Here and   Here

Mr. Kent published WILDERNESS, A Journal of Quiet Adventure  in Alaska in 1941 and this is taken from that larger published work.  The introduction explains he had this little volume reprinted as Christmas presents for all his friends a few years later.   Here’s a couple of the illustrations from A Northern Christmas  — aren’t they just wonderful?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As the holiday approaches Mr. Kent and his son improvise their holiday cheer with a tree, hand made ornaments and candles.  The second photo here shows the menu they cobbled together as a holiday feast for their only neighbor Olson, a weather beaten gold miner who prepared carefully for the occasion with hair specially clipped around his hears and a gold nugget stickpin in his silk tie.  Beans a la Resurrection Bay anyone?

Some other special selections from this Christmas tale (and yes the dates are printed in red in the book  – a charming touch):

Thursday, December nineteenth.  This day is never to be forgotten, so beautiful, so calm, so still with the earth and every branch and tree muffled in deep feathery, new fallen snow.  And all day the softest clouds have drifted lazily over the heaven, shrouding the land here and there with veils of falling snow, while elsewhere or through the snow itself the sun shone.  Golden shadows, dazzling peaks, fairy tracery of branches against the blue summer sea!  It was a day to Live, – and work could be forgotten.

Christmas Eve.  We’ve cleaned the house, stowed everything away upon shelves and hooks, and in corners, moved even my easel aside; decorated the roof timbers with dense hemlock boughs, stowed quantities of wood behind the stove — for there must be no work on that holiday – and now both Rockwell and I are in a state of suppressed excitement over tomorrow.   What a strange thing! Nothing is coming to us, no change in any respect in the routine of our lives but what we make ourselves – and yet the day looms so large and magnificent before us!  I suppose the greatest festivals of our lives are those at which we dance ourselves.

The underline is mine …

Wishing you a happy holiday countdown with your own festivals.

 

Christmas Books

My mother and I share a delight in Christmas books.  We get them out every year and display them, covers up please; on the coffee table, in the reading nook, by a convenient chair near the kitchen. Their familiar bright covers seem to add to the house decorations and our Christmas spirits.

Then, while those cookies are baking, or in between wrapping presents, we can slow down for a moment to dip into a favorite Christmas tale.

I’ve whittled my Christmas books down to a cherished few (OK a dozen or so) and re-read them, or at least browse through them, every year.

So tune in tomorrow, each day I’ll be showcasing one of my favorite holiday books while counting the days until Christmas.

Comme le vent (Like the wind)…

I read like the wind — two books over the weekend.  Admittedly, they were quite short books, but I seem to have reclaimed my reading mojo.

Both current French fiction with wry Gallic style and observations. (Sorry to admit, I read them translated to English – my French is nowhere near “reading novels” proficient)

 The President’s Hat by Antoine Laurain

Dining alone in an elegant Parisian brasserie, accountant Daniel Mercier can hardly believe his eyes when President François Mitterrand sits down to eat at the table next to him.

Daniel’s thrill at being in such close proximity to the most powerful man in the land persists even after the presidential party has gone, which is when he discovers that Mitterrand’s black felt hat has been left behind.

After a few moments’ soul-searching, Daniel decides to keep the hat as a souvenir of an extraordinary evening. It’s a perfect fit, and as he leaves the restaurant Daniel begins to feel somehow … different.

A french fairy tale of sorts, set during the Mitterrand years (1980s) tells of a hat lost, found and lost again and its magical powers of transformation.  This is a fast-paced and whimsical story chock full of French perspective.

Voila – here is President Mitterrand’s hat accidentally left behind for a hapless accountant to snitch and wear out of the restaurant.  The hat brings the new wearer confidence and recognition and when he leaves it behind on a train, it is found and worn by a woman needing courage and hope.   The hat brings each new finder just what they need to change their lives. Somewhat improbably, all the characters connect in the latter half of the book, and the epilogue cunningly ties everything together and back to the President.

Layered over and under this simple tale is Monsieur Laurain’s fully observed French society of the 1980’s.  You are there — when France was still Starbucks free and regular workers could afford a lunch of oysters and crisp white wine.  Decades-old class distinctions were just starting to crumble and new political views were taking hold.  Neighborhood bistros have not yet evolved into swanky restaurants and an answering machine is new technology.

There are inside observations that will be obvious to the native French but have to be teased out if you’re like me, an unaware American.  Who knew that the pronunciation of Mitterrand’s name was code for a French person’s political views?  Or that such serious consideration is given to a choice of perfume for both French women and men?

This novel reminded me of an O’Henry or Evelyn Waugh story but with a delightful French twist.  At only 200 pages this book goes quickly – and perfect for that picky Francophile on your gift list.

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My Wish List by Gregoire Delacourt

If you won the lottery, would you trade your life for the life of your dreams?

Jocelyne lives in a small town in France where she runs a fabric shop, has been married to the same man for twenty-one years, and has raised two children. She is beginning to wonder what happened to all those dreams she had when she was seventeen. Could her life have been different?

Then she wins the lottery—and suddenly finds the world at her fingertips. But she chooses not to tell anyone, not even her husband—not just yet. Without cashing the check, she begins to make a list of all the things she could do with the money. But does Jocelyne really want her life to change?

This is a sad but thoughtful novella and the author writes with cynicism and sentimentality.  A study of contrasts all wrapped up in a winning-the-lottery dream.

Jocelyne is ordinary – really ordinary, but she has hopes, wishes and desires.  She is married to a materialistic man, her grown children are a disappointment and her closest friends are silly twins who, unlike Jocelyne, are young, thin and desired.  Out of character one day, Jocelyne buys a lottery ticket and somehow predicts to herself that she will win.  Thus begin the lists – her lists of things she needs.

When she does actually win the lottery, she hides the win from everyone, doesn’t tell a soul, except her father who is in a nursing home and has a six minute memory span.  Her conversations with her father about the money and what she should do, are alternately hysterical and heartbreaking.

Jocelyne fears the change and impact of such riches (18.5 million Euros).  She knows her husband wants a flat screen TV, a sports car, and a fancy watch, while Jocelyne’s list includes a new shower curtain and a better reading lamp.  As the novel progresses, her lists evolve to include going to a spa and a Chanel bag.  She kindly starts to include things her husband would want such as every James Bond Film on DVD.

Jocelyne carries on with her life, she works in a fabric shop and has a very successful crafting blog, but her hidden lottery check is never far from her mind. Soon her lists start to include such sad items as To be told I’m beautiful…and To be envied, at last.

OK, so you think you get it – the lottery win is a metaphor for life and how things of value can’t be bought.  But here’s where Monsieur Delacourt doesn’t take the easy road, he lets Jocelyne want her things as badly as her desires.  Such as this passage:

“Because our needs are our little daily dreams.  The little things to be done that project us into tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, the future;  trivial things that we plan to buy next week allowing us to think that next week we’ll still be alive.  It’s the need for a nonslip bath mat that keeps us going.”

Jocelyne is the only fully developed character, I couldn’t warm to any of the others, but she is enough to pull the novel along.  The novel is told entirely in the present tense, which is a typical for modern-day French novels, and I’m happy the translator didn’t try to adapt the style for English-readers. Here’s a quote from the book that is insight into this  author’s unusual writing style:

“I love words.  I love long sentences, sighs that go on forever.  I love it when words sometimes hide what they’re saying, or say it in a new way.”

I think M. Delacourt gets a few things wrong.  Jocelyne’s husband is named Jocelyn which the author introduces slyly, (and it’s important later in the book) but I found it distracting. This male author has Jocelyne (the wife — see, confusing!) viewing her naked overweight body in the mirror and thinking it beautiful.  I doubt any overweight woman would do that – maybe French women, but not this American women – perhaps I lack such evolved confidence, but it felt female-false. There is a betrayal and an strangely abrupt bittersweet ending, which I won’t spoil here.

At only 163 pages, this novella packs the import of a much longer novel, I find myself thinking about it still.

Note:  The original French title was List of My Desires – which I think would have been a better English title as well.

My Wish List was provided by Penguin via NetGalley

 

 

 

 

 

Testament of Gideon Mack by James Robertson

For this Throwback Thursday, I revisit a most memorable book from 2007.

From the back cover:  A critical success on both sides of the Atlantic, this darkly imaginative novel from Scottish author James Robertson takes a tantalizing trip into the spiritual by way of a haunting paranormal mystery. When Reverend Gideon Mack, a good minister despite his atheism, tumbles into a deep ravine called the Black Jaws, he is presumed dead. Three days later, however, he emerges bruised but alive-and insistent that his rescuer was Satan himself. Against the background of an incredulous world, Mack’s disturbing odyssey and the tortuous life that led to it create a mesmerizing meditation on faith, mortality, and the power of the unknown.

Reverend Gideon Mack, a Scottish minister who doesn’t believe in God, ends up meeting and being saved by the devil.  The sudden appearance of a standing stone in the woods, visible only to him, is a chilling precursor of his encounter with the horned one.
Yet, in telling his tale, his sanity is questioned and his place in the church is threatened.   Is Gideon Mack crazy or suffering from a nervous breakdown?  Did what happened to him actually happen?

This is a strange, yet fascinating tale and Mr. Robertson is a masterful writer to be able to pull off such an unusual premise.

Gideon’s written account (his testament) tells the tale and is delivered into the hands of a publisher after Gideon’s sudden disappearance followed by the discovery of his body. The publisher launches an investigation into claims from Gideon’s story. The results leave the reader mystified and, in the end, left to make their own decision as to what really happened.

The novel is many layered, there is the manuscript and the narration told through a number of differing Scottish accents.  Then there is the tale itself with questionable validity.  And finally, there is the rich undercurrent which questions the nature of our beliefs and held truths.  It leaves the reader with more questions than answers.   There is even a website dedicated to the novel and its many unresolved answers and interpretations.  Here.

This would be an excellent book group selection, as there are bound to be as many explanations as members of the group.  The Penguin edition has a very good readers guide.

While I often skip prologues (sshh don’t tell anyone) do not skip the prologue or the epilogue in this novel – they are Mr. Robertson’s best work and vital to the storyline in The Testament of Gideon Mack. 

 

A brief intermission

It’s raining here, perfect reading with a cup of tea weather. But, despite bookshelf full of books and a Kindle 3/4 full of books I haven’t read, I can’t seem to land on a book to read right now.  I pick one up, read a few chapters, put it down uninterested…try another and so on. I know from experience this will pass but it is quite unsettling not to be reading anything right now.  So during this lull  – HERE  is the New York Times Book Review’s 100 Notable Books of 2014 for inspiration…hmmmm, maybe a trip to my favorite independent  bookstore later …don’t judge.