Adventures of the Red Tape Gang
by Joan Lowery Nixon (Putnam, 1974)
Four 12-year-old boys set out to right neighbour wrongs in vigilante fashion—an undertaking made more difficult when a girl from their class finds out and blackmails them into letting her join their club. An exciting adventure structured around low-key plot contrivances.
The Twelve Million Dollar Note and Other Strange But True Sea Stories
by Robert Kraske (Scholastic, 1977)
A miscellany of tales about messages washed ashore in bottles. There is little cohesion to the collection, nor academic rigour applied in establishing each story’s veracity, yet the accounts are easy to read and pitched to fire the imaginations of middle-grade students.
The Mystery of the Strange Bundle
by Enid Blyton (Methuen, 1952)
Another mystery stumbled upon and solved largely by chance, the investigation aided by a fortuitous discovery arising from Fatty’s having played a prank on Goon! The usual fun but not very satisfying. Fatty at last has some comeuppance for all his Goon-baiting.
Asterix and the Magic Carpet
by Albert Uderzo; trans. Anthea Bell & Derek Hockridge (Hodder, 1988)
A breezy if inconsequential adventure. Uderzo sends his heroes on a tour of the ancient world and depicts India for the first time, his illustrations proving less cluttered and less exotically Eastern than those of Jean Tabary’s Iznogoud (which gets a shout-out).
Lifeforce
dir. Tobe Hooper (1985)
Science fiction horror with a chilling premise and a big-screen budget, yet decidedly B-movie in its execution. The script is a confused mess and most of the actors look like they haven’t recovered from actress Mathilda May (‘Space Girl’) wandering around naked.
The Famous Five: Five Run Away Together
dir. James Gatward; adapted by Gail Renard (ITV, 1979)
The character interactions are stilted and the story is heavily abridged. However, this is the one episode of the 1970s Famous Five adaptation worth sitting through—for Patrick Troughton’s comparative masterclass as the understated yet commanding, henpecked yet still villainous Mr Stick.
The Mystery of the Vanished Prince
by Enid Blyton (Methuen, 1951)
An odd instalment in which the Find-Outers do very little investigating. (Pip finds one lucky clue and they stumble upon people who explain the mystery!) The modern reader cannot help feeling uncomfortable at the children’s casual assumptions of social and racial superiority.
The Professionals #9: No Stone
by Ken Blake (Sphere, 1981)
Another two episodes novelised by Kenneth Bulmer under the publisher’s house pseudonym. The book has the feel of having been dashed off, and relies heavily on readers being familiar with the characters and format. Nonetheless, it serves its purpose. Simple, action-packed nostalgia.
Tintin: The Black Island
by Hergé (Methuen, 1966); trans. Leslie Lonsdale-Cooper & Michael Turner
The Boy’s Own adventuring kicks in on page one and doesn’t let up. Typical of the early volumes, Tintin tangles repeatedly with armed crooks and survives only through incredible luck and bravery, albeit that Hergé also pens a joyous outpouring of slapstick.
Planet of the Warlord
by Douglas Hill (Victor Gollancz, 1981)
A rousing conclusion to the Last Legionary quartet. Having re-established Keill Randor’s preternatural combat abilities, Hill plunges his protagonist into genuine defeat and despair, thence to rise again (aided by his alien friend Glr) and face one last set of impossible odds.