Star Quest: Spacejack!
by Terrance Dicks (W. H. Allen, 1978)
Drawing on the SF zeitgeist of the late 1970s, Dicks managed to channel Doctor Who, Star Wars, and even Planet of the Apes in this slim Middle Grade adventure. An easy, fast-paced read with decent characterisation and several positive (if overt) morals.
Cry of the Cat
by Emily Rodda and Mary Forrest (Ashton Scholastic, 1995); audiobook read by Rebecca Macauley (Bolinda, 2006)
Although the Teen Power kids argue amongst themselves and display a refreshingly real-world dynamic, the mystery itself is spoiled somewhat by their dubious decision-making and an authorial recourse to the worst kind of tropey plot twist. The audiobook reading is nicely Australian.
Rocky & Bullwinkle: Vacational Therapy
by Jack Mendelsohn, Dave Berg et al; art by Fred Fredericks, Jerry Robinson & Mel Crawford (IDW, 2014) [Collecting Gold Key’s ‘Bullwinkle’ comics, #5-8, September 1972 – July 1973]
Beholden to an older style, this collection of 1970s Rocky and Bullwinkle comic strips seems visually tired, and increasingly loses its way narratively (degenerating into pun-infested nonsense). It also weighs somewhat heavily towards the also-rans (Dudley Do-Right, Fractured Fairy Tales, et cetera).
Agaton Sax and the Diamond Thieves
by Nils-Olof Franzén; ill. Quentin Blake; trans. Evelyn Ramsden (Andre Deutsch, 1965)
The fourth book in Franzén’s detective series but the first in English translation. Agaton Sax retains his customary self-assurance, yet the story in this instance seems a little extemporised and so he ends up in pursuit rather than mastery of the plot.
With a Strange Device
by Eric Frank Russell (Dobson, 1964)
Where Russell was renowned for humorous SF, this novel seems more in keeping with Cold War espionage stories (or within Russell’s spectrum, his early Fortean noir outings Sinister Barrier and Dreadful Sanctuary), and maintains its intrigue even upon second or third reading.
Three Men in a Boat
by Jerome K. Jerome (J. W. Arrowsmith, 1889); audiobook read by Sir Timothy Ackroyd (Lark, 2013)
A tongue-in-cheek travelogue of a Thames boating holiday, serving also as a framing device for comic reminiscences. At turns poetic, droll and fervent, this 19th-century novel holds up well (particularly in audiobook form) and has been echoed tonally by many later writers.
The Ordeal of Gilbert Pinfold
by Evelyn Waugh (Chapman & Hall, 1957); audiobook read by Michael Cochrane (Clipper Audio, 2004)
Waugh’s prose is very accomplished, and is given due diligence in Michael Cochrane’s audiobook reading. The story itself, however, is of limited appeal, recounting a rather torturous and prolonged delusional episode. Cleverly constructed—and cathartic for the author, apparently—but leading nowhere.
The Last Continent
by Terry Pratchett (Doubleday, 1998); audiobook read by Nigel Planer (Isis, 1999)
One of the weaker Discworld novels. Pratchett makes suitably merry with intelligent design and the origins of (stereotyped) Australianism, but the Unseen University wizards are rather tiresome when employed as main characters and Rincewind’s exploits are equally belaboured. Funny but unusually pointless.
Wild Strawberries
by Angela Thirkell (Harrison Smith & Robert Haas, 1934); audiobook read by Hilary Neville (Isis, 2015)
Charitably, a deadpan satire on manor houses and the British upper crust. Despite the odd piece of drollery, however, a suspicion grows that Thirkell must rather have identified with her carefree, superficial characters, parody thereby giving way to endorsement and straightforward romance.
The Magic Finger
by Roald Dahl (Harper & Row, 1966); audiobook read by Roald Dahl (HarperCollins, 2002)
Instructive though it is to hear Roald Dahl reading his own work, the fact remains that ‘The Magic Finger’ is a very slight, somewhat misnamed little story. A hunter receives his comeuppance overnight when he and his family are turned into ducks.