The Complete Peanuts: 1985-1986
by Charles M. Schulz (Fantagraphics, 2012)
Snoopy’s brother Spike remains a weak link and Tapioca Pudding is beyond doubt a character experiment gone badly wrong. Desert strips and pointless riffs notwithstanding, Schulz crosses the mid-80s with vigour, sharing his attention amongst old favourites and tapping rich new veins.
Lord Emsworth and Others
by P. G. Wodehouse (Herbert Jenkins, 1937)
Nine short stories evincing Wodehouse’s usual joie de vivre and knack for comedic happenstance, yet, save for ‘The Crime Wave at Blandings’, lacking closure, giving instead the impression of half-conceptualised novels (or subplots thereof) cut down in the mid stages of drafting.
The Sign of the Four
by Arthur Conan Doyle (Lippincott’s Monthly Magazine, 1890); audiobook read by Stephen Fry (ABC Audio, 2017)
A bravura second outing for Holmes and Watson, once again deflated by a lengthy coda in which neither man features. An important novel for having affirmed the strength of these two characters, and for indicating that Conan Doyle should prefer short stories.
Design for Great-Day
by Eric Frank Russell (Planet Stories, January 1953); subsequently republished as ‘The Ultimate Invader’ [Novella]
In several of his stories Russell took delight in sending up blinkered authority. In this novella he endowed his protagonist not only with the usual insouciance but also the ethical clout of a highly advanced multi-species commune. At first rib-tickling, then earnest.
The Revenge of the Brain Sharpeners
by Philip Curtis; ill. Tony Ross (Anderson, 1982)
This direct sequel lacks the one-against-many tension of the original. The cast is the same but the protagonist viewpoint is diluted and the Brain Sharpeners have become ineffectual background threats, not menacing subverters lurking in the fog. Fun enough but relatively disappointing.
Doctor Who: Terminus
by Stephen Gallagher, writing as John Lydecker (Target, 1983); audiobook read by Steven Pacey (BBC, 2019)
Gallagher’s second Doctor Who script gave rise to a gloomy, layered production rich in scenario and comparatively nuanced in its characterisations. The subsequent novelisation, far from the undemanding walk-through that young readers had come to expect from Target Books, proves equally accomplished.
A Morbid Taste for Bones
by Ellis Peters (Macmillan, 1977); audiobook read by Johanna Ward (Blackstone, 1996)
More notable for its elegant prose and depiction of the Welsh people (High Middle Ages) than its rather slight mystery. Brother Cadfael is immensely likeable but doesn’t so much investigate matters as discern the ineffable truth and nudge events along. Audiobook recommended.
The Incredible Kidnapping
by Willis Hall; ill. Quentin Blake (William Heinemann, 1975)
A middle-grade comedy of incompetence, given to much running about and characters conversing in blissfully ignorant, wilful suspension of disbelief. The story is based on Hall’s play Kidnapped at Christmas and is easy to imagine playing out in that context. Gently amusing.
Star Quest: Roboworld
by Terrance Dicks (W. H. Allen, 1979)
Dicks once again borrowed heavily from 1970s Doctor Who in scripting this middle-grade adventure of human outcasts, robot sentience, deranged scientists and plucky rebellion. This second book in the trilogy is more assured than the first, though never reaching any great heights.
Encyclopaedia Brown Tracks Them Down
by Donald J. Sobol; ill. Leonard Shortall (Thomas Nelson, 1971)
By this, the eighth book in the series, Sobol was clearly phoning it in. There are ten so-called mysteries to solve and none of them worth the investment, being in some combination muddled in the setup, purely for edification or monumentally facile.