A Monstrous Regiment of Women
by Laurie R. King (St. Martin’s Press, 1995)
audiobook read by Jenny Sterlin (Clipper, 1996)
King presents an earnest and edifying depiction of women’s struggle for recognition, rights and self-governance after the First World War. This backdrop, however, comes rather at the expense of Mary, who exchanges precocious Sherlockian competence for a dubious arc of emotional growth.
Faust Eric
by Terry Pratchett; ill. Josh Kirby (Victor Gollancz, 1990)
audiobook read by Stephen Briggs (Transworld, 2007)
A novella-length Discworld offering that seems to have been written more as a showcase of Josh Kirby’s artwork than as a narrative of any great purpose or coherence. Rincewind is well past his sell-by date. The story comes across as leftover brainstorming.
Star Wars
dir. George Lucas (1977)
Objectively not as good as nostalgia would suggest, but still a trailblazing masterpiece. Star Wars is oddly paced, surprisingly dark, yet also straightforward (a forgotten virtue) and packed with character humour. A dramatic and action-packed audio/visual extravaganza, perfectly cast and eminently quotable.
Bodies from the Library 5
Selected Lost Stories of Mystery and Suspense by Masters of the Golden Age
ed. Tony Medawar (Collins Crime Club, 2019); audiobook read by Philip Bretherton (HarperCollins, 2022)
The written equivalent of a b-sides collection. Anthony Boucher and Julian Symons are worth reading, but mostly the author biographies prove more diverting than the stories. John Bude’s (only ever) novella ‘Murder in Montparnasse’ is a laborious slog through the patently obvious.
The Frighteners
dir. Peter Jackson (1996)
While impossible to pigeonhole (there’s no doubt it left the Universal Pictures marketing team perplexed), The Frighteners remains a creepy, funny, offbeat and overdone treat for those on its wavelength. The effects stand up well without ever constituting the be-all and end-all.
All the Things You Are
by Robert Sheckley, Galaxy (July 1956); UK edition no. 42 (September 1956), 118-128.
A humorous if inconsequential short story from that once-thriving SF subgenre wherein civilised Earth crews in their technologically advanced ships go rocketing about the galaxy, abjectly messing up first contact with more primitive peoples. Funny enough, without rising to any great heights.
Ernie
by Timothy Zahn, Analog (September 1979), 155-166.
A young man from disadvantaged circumstances develops a near-minuscule superheroic talent, but can’t immediately think of any better use for it than to become a boxer. There is, of course, and so he finds the (self)respect he craves. A gentle short story.
Star Ka’at
by Andre Norton & Dorothy Madlee (Blackie & Son, 1977); ill. Bernard Colonna (Knight Books, 1980)
A slight volume that hints at a more complicated story but doesn’t come close to delivering one. In fact, the plot is little more than its MG protagonists lining up for a SF adventure ride that will (presumably) begin with book two.
The Ship of Adventure
by Enid Blyton (Macmillan, 1950)
audiobook read by Thomas Judd (Bolinda, 2021)
While the animals (Kiki plus Micky the monkey) allow for chaos and key plot progressions, Blyton writes herself into a corner where adult intervention is the only way forward. Nowhere is her off-hand approach more evident than in Bill and Allie’s insta-engagement.
Brat Farrar
by Josephine Tey (Peter Davies, 1949)
audiobook read by Carole Boyd (Bolinda, 2017)
The broad sweep of the mystery is predictable, the mechanics of the murder left improperly explained, yet this remains an oddly compelling read, full of nuanced characterisation and gently poetic depictions of post-war British country life (or the elite horsey subsection thereof).