Labyrinth
by Bill Pronzini (St. Martin’s, 1980)
In some ways it’s nice to return to the days when ‘Nameless’ was more a down-and-out private eye than the upstanding investigator of later books. Bill Pronzini showcases (as always) his gift for exploring the people and place that surround a mystery.
Matilda
by Roald Dahl (Jonathan Cape, 1988); audiobook read by Kate Winslet (Puffin, 2013)
If Roald Dahl is one of the great middle grade writers, and Matilda one of his greatest books, then Kate Winslet takes us into the greatness stratosphere with her brilliant and definitive reading, making Matilda, Miss Honey and the Trunchbull truly unforgettable.
Blott on the Landscape
by Tom Sharpe (Secker & Warburg, 1975); audiobook read by David Suchet (AudioGO, 2011)
Sharpe weaves plot strands like Wodehouse and is similarly dexterous in his use of prose. He is coarse, though, and often vulgar, his characters toilet plungered en masse from the unseemly depths of human nature. Nonetheless, ‘Blott’ executes a dizzying comedic spiral.
Queen Lucia
by E F Benson (George H. Doran, 1920); full-cast reading (BBC, 2014)
Although the characters and conniving still come through with a certain distinct vigour, readers nowadays may find it hard to engage with the comedy of manners — the ceaseless shifting for social position — that plays out within Benson’s portrayal of 1920s upper-middle-class Brits.
The Mystery of the Secret Room
by Enid Blyton (Methuen, 1945); audiobook read by Ann Beach (Chivers, 2010)
The third book in the series but perhaps the best place to start if new to children’s detective fiction and/or the Five Found-Outers (and dog). Fatty and the others come into their own, outwitting Goon the policeman while solving another mystery.
The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes
by Arthur Conan Doyle (John Murray, 1927); audiobook read by Derek Jacobi (Bolinda, 2015)
Derek Jacobi proves a narrator par excellence in bringing to life cases from late in the career of Sherlock Holmes; but then, that most enduringly beloved detective has always excelled as much from good delivery as from ingenuity or complexity of mystery.
Saturday Night Fry, Series 1
by Stephen Fry (BBC Radio 4, 1988)
This radio precursor to A Bit of Fry & Laurie saw Stephen Fry and guests forge ground in the comedic art of playing against expectations. It is fast, clever (if not always funny), and suavely innovative in its manipulation of the medium.
Galahad at Blandings
by P. G. Wodehouse (Simon & Schuster, 1964); audiobook read by Jeremy Sinden (Chivers, 1993; 2011)
In Galahad Threepwood surely we have the nascent (if more genteel) template for Dirk Gently, and in the comings and goings at Blandings Castle that of Douglas Adams’ much-vaunted fundamental interconnectedness of everything. This is Wodehouse at his fabulous, gab-gifted, exquisite best.
Asterix and the Class Act
by Goscinny & Uderzo; trans. Anthea Bell & Derek Hockridge (Orion, 2003)
A tantalising collection of Asterix curios that — if nothing else — makes one appreciate how much work must go into creating a full album. In the shorter form Goscinny and Uderzo push both delightfully and delightedly at the boundaries of their famous creations.
Tintin and Alph-Art
by Hergé; trans. Leslie Lonsdale-Cooper & Michael Turner (Egmont, 1990) [original published by Casterman, 1986]
Hergé’s final Tintin adventure exists only as a collection of unfinished black-and-white sketches. Published alongside transcripts of the text (in progress), Alph-Art serves as much to sadden as to tantalise. Energetic; nostalgic (nay, playfully self-referential): there could have been one last hurrah!