No Wind of Blame
by Georgette Heyer (Hodder & Stoughton, 1939)
audiobook read by Ulli Birvé (Bolinda, 2014)
The (supposedly ingenious) murder doesn’t occur until Heyer has spent one third of the book establishing a turgid and disagreeable dramatis personae. Inspector Hemmingway appears only three fifths of the way through and, though a lively protagonist, cannot stem the stultifying tide.
Death at Victoria Dock
by Kerry Greenwood (Poisoned Pen Press, 1992)
audiobook read by Stephanie Daniel (ABC, 2011)
Stephanie Daniel’s audiobook reading lends vivid personality to all the characters; Greenwood’s depiction of interbellum Melbourne society suggests considerable research; yet Phryne herself has become more goddess than investigator. She is adored and feared to the extent of encountering too little resistance.
Mortimer’s Cross
by Joan Aiken (Harper & Row, 1983)
audiobook read by Judy Bennett (Bolinda, 2015) [as part of the 3-in-1 collection ‘Mortimer’s Cross’]
![Book covers: “Mortimer’s Cross” by Joan Aiken (Harper & Row, 1983); audiobook read by Judy Bennett (Bolinda, 2015) [as part of the 3-in-1 collection ‘Mortimer’s Cross’]](https://www.derelictspacesheep.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/03/Aiken_Mortimers-Cross.jpg)
A lively middle-grade adventure, Dahl-like in tone but with a more adult vocabulary suggestive of Mortimer’s origins (being read aloud on Jackanory). Bennett’s enthusiastically British- and Welsh-accented audiobook narration does capture the spirit, but it’s a shame to forego Quentin Blake’s illustrations.
The Weirdstone of Brisingamen
by Alan Garner (William Collins, 1960)
audiobook read by Philip Madoc (Naxos, 2007)
A dour quest fantasy for children, lent solemnity (if not consequence) by its very real sense of landscape—rural Cheshire—and in the audiobook by Philip Madoc’s Welsh inflections and portentous, almost reverent reading. Though trials are faced, nothing much actually happens.
Bodies from the Library 2: Forgotten Stories of Mystery and Suspense by the Queens of Crime and other Masters of Golden Age Detection
ed. Tony Medawar (Collins Crime Club, 2019)
audiobook read by Philip Bretherton (HarperCollins, 2019)
A collection of unpublished or obscurely published and never before reprinted detective stories from some famous names in the genre. While these include pieces featuring, respectively, Gervase Fen and Lord Peter Wimsey, most of these tales have gathered dust for good reason.
Her Smoke Rose Up Forever
by James Tiptree, Jr (Arkham House, 1990)
SF Masterworks Edition (Gollancz, 2014)
A 500-page collection of dark, dreamy, dense, often dismal short stories. Tiptree (aka Alice Sheldon) wrote challenging SF that juxtaposed male POVs with uncensored, damning depictions of how men treat women. Plenty of big ideas. Highly regarded though not always pleasant reading.
Uncle Fred in the Springtime
by P.G. Wodehouse (Doubleday, Doran, 1939)
audiobook read by Stephen Fry (Audible, 2021) [as part of “The Blandings Collection”]
![Book cover: “Uncle Fred in the Springtime” by P.G. Wodehouse (Doubleday, Doran, 1939); audiobook read by Stephen Fry (Audible, 2021) [as part of “The Blandings Collection”]](https://www.derelictspacesheep.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/03/Wodehouse_Uncle-Fred-in-the-Springtime.jpg)
Perhaps the most twisted and entwined plot that Wodehouse ever laid down. If anything, the Gordian Knot is perhaps too great, for the sheer effort of describing it leaves Wodehouse a bit short of his usual sparkle, the pitfalls not so precarious.
Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me
dir. Jay Roach (1999)
Whereas the original Austin Powers film had a mad, flamboyant charm, ‘The Spy Who Shagged Me’ is slow-moving and painfully inane, not unlike a collection of cut scenes. There’s not much here to love, save Seth Green and the Jerry Springer sequence.
Masters of the Universe
dir. Gary Goddard (1987)
What Star Wars could have been if given twice the budget but a clueless director, a deadweight lead (Dolph Lundgren) and a script written by someone pitting actual Mattel toys against each other. Meg Foster (Evil-Lin) and Frank Langella (Skeletor) aren’t terrible.
The Story of the Terrible Scar
by Catherine Storr; ill. Gerald Rose (Faber and Faber, 1976)
Four tall tales, none of them particularly exciting (but each serving the premise well), told by Jim’s uncle to explain how his father got the scar on his arm. A surprisingly effective fix-up chapter book, greater than the sum of its parts.