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Nothing Venture: A Golden Age Mystery [Patricia Wentworth] on leondumoulin.nl *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. “I went down to the pool, and he was lying.
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What's a typical day for you? A: When the children were young I couldn't do anything but be a full-time Mum but, now the youngest is 15 and the eldest and still at home is 22, life's a lot more relaxed. I'm very lucky in that we all get on very well, so it's all fairly smooth, really.
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Once I've seen everyone on their way, I do any outstanding housework jobs, then get cracking. If I hit a snag, I can always do some more housework, as it's fairly endless, and mull things over at the same time. If they gave out gold stars for ironing, I'd have a constellation by now! However, I think the real writing heroes are those who have a "proper" job as well. I find that really impressive. Q: Is there any element of fantasy at work here? I know Dorothy Sayers, when she was struggling financially, gave Wimsey a butler and a glamorous life so she could live vicariously through him.
What's especially appealing to you about ? A: Fantasy?
In a way, yes. I should have been partying in Mayhem Parva by However, we can't have everything in this life! Why the Twenties? The Twenties, marked by a reckless love of sensation, sense of fun and deliberate flouting of previous shibboleths is an attempt to drown out the memory of mud, blood and heartbreak. At the same time, the old world of convention and formality is vigorously alive. What emerges is an edge; a clash of two worlds and the idea that nothing is ever quite what it seems.
It's heady stuff. Q: And finally, any contemporary writers you especially admire? I say "contemporary" because I was tired of getting the answer "Jane Austen" when I asked this question. A: One of the nice things about going to Crime-writing festivals is meeting new to you authors in the flesh. I try to read as much as I can before I go and have discovered some real stars. Louise Penny was one, with her richly imagined world of Three Pines, Suzette Hill, with her very funny "Bones" books, Lesley Horton with compelling stories of Yorkshire crime with a racial element and another Yorkshire woman, Jane Finnis, who writes terrific stories set in Roman Britain.
Terry Pratchett is an absolute favourite. Discworld is a stunning creation, a place to lose yourself in, wise, moving and very funny. The Counting Pines in Mort are up there with the best of Wodehouse. And did I love Harry Potter? You bet. Oh, and by the way, I love Jane Austen too!
While I had to work my way through a gigantic reading pile before getting to Gordon-Smith's book, I was chastened when I finally picked it up, as it was several months after Louise had recommended it, and after I started I wanted to slap my forehead in disgust at myself. This is the long way of saying that this is a terrific book. This novel may have one of the better opening sequences that I've read almost ever. It's London, and a starving, ill man named George Lassiter is lurching around Mayfair when he sees a warm looking, cozy kitchen that seems to call to him for some reason.
When he sees all the servants leaving, he looks under the mat, finds a key, and lets himself in, to get warm by the fire, eat some sandwiches, and where he eventually falls asleep. When he wakes up in the darkened kitchen he thinks he sees a murder, but when he runs into the street, virtually into the arms of a policeman to report what he's seen, the body is gone. Shortly after, the seriously ill George collapses, and from there Gordon-Smith's storytelling wizardry takes hold and the book is off and running.
You'll be seriously hooked at this point. Gordon-Smith's series character is one Jack Haldean, a crime writer who, it turns out, served in the war with George Lassiter. Jack takes George in as he has nowhere to go, and from there the story is almost Dickensian in terms of coincidence, though as you're reading it it probably won't strike you as a bit far fetched. You'll be too caught up in the story.
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I imagine that someone who possesses as strong a narrative gift as Gordon-Smith obviously does has so much fun thinking up the details of her story, it's hard to leave juicy plot points out, and indeed, they do nothing but enhance the novel. I don't want to give too much more away of this ingeniously constructed novel other that it say it involves early aviation, a lost fortune, a dodgy club, and an apparent serial killer that has the police completely stumped.
Throw in a little romance and the ebb and flow of two old friends sharing a small flat and the resulting book is a wonder. It's structured in a very traditional way, and the historical detail provides just enough background, but not too much—it feels natural. Any fan of either the traditional British mystery or of the historical mystery should be in heaven.
Her attention for detail remains impressive from the start to the finish of this clever and unique murder mystery. George Lassiter is ill, destitute and desperate enough to break into a house in London for warmth and hopefully something to eat. I could almost taste and smell the smog on the streets of London as this happened.
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And is the murder of the beautiful girl a hallucination, a sign of his desperate plight, and need for immediate medical attention? Gordon-Smith is a fine craftsman of crime-writing, as well as a first class story teller. Her writing is clear, and so atmospheric one can almost smell the smoke from the cigarettes in their long holders and the strings of pearls on the flappers. Next Gordon-Smith book eagerly awaited. Couldn't put it down!
Martin Edwards
The books have a strongly Golden Age Allingham, Sayers et al feel but stand on their own and are not blatantly derivative. A big part of why they made me interested in the setting is Haldean himself, who is not just a popular part of the social scene but also someone who carries his own scars from the recent war. The fact that they are largely buried gets you thinking all the more when they do appear about comparable not so visible scars that period must have left on countless other regular people, including the sort of person you or I would have been and known.
They come out in small ways, such as when Haldean suggests a friend who is acting very strangely "see someone i. Haldean just smiles It leaves the reader with an impression of how much well hidden damage that time must have done to how very many people, in a way that all the more obviously scarred Rutledges of the world can't, because this could be me or you. Down on his luck, Tim's been working as a secretary for Lord Lyvenden, an obnoxious munitions manufacturer who made a big enough bundle during the war to buy a peerage and a well-bred wife to go along with it.
Questions?
Tim's death looks like suicide, but Jack is suspicious, and when Lyvenden is discovered in a pool of blood he springs into sleuthing mode again A Fete Worse Than Death, Jack's shell-shocked pal Arthur Stanton, who was found standing over the body, has decamped, but Jack wants to believe him innocent. Also staying at Hesperus is his beautiful cousin Isabelle, who despite her recent engagement to wealthy banker and sportsman Malcolm Smith-Fennimore is a little in love with Stanton and sure he's innocent; Smith-Fennimore himself, who takes a shot at the fleeing Stanton; Lyvenden's unconcerned widow Lady Harriet and her companion, Lyvenden's former mistress; Lady Alice's swaggering stepson; and sundry other guests and servants.
Perhaps several mysterious and threatening Russians, some missing papers and tales of Czarist gold may hold a clue. A classic postwar country-house mystery with a Christie-like denouement. I just obtained Mad About the Boy and read it in one sitting. I have thoroughly enjoyed both of your books and look forward to the next installment.
Vleisides, P. Now debonair sleuth-about-town Jack Haldean is back with a second helping of murder and mystery as he celebrates the silver wedding of his aunt and uncle at their country house Hesperus. They both love her, but she is not sure which man she would prefer to marry. Soon there is a rather more pressing problem to think about when a guest commits suicide — or did he? Another death soon afterwards would suggest not, but surely the guilty man must be somebody else? I love classic era mysteries with Bright Young Things in grand country houses and this is a good one with plenty going on at all times.
The author has researched the period thoroughly, and the shadow of the Great War hangs over everything, as it should do for historical accuracy. Jack is a sympathetic sleuth with a living to earn and a genuine affection for his friends but a sensibly impartial view when he has a case to solve. As such, he makes a good protagonist who stands a little aside from the entanglements, which allows him to get on with finding whodunit as well as lifting the spirits of the story.
There is romance in here as well as abundant action, and despite the anguished Arthur and war reminiscences this is still a cozy in the broadest sense of the term. Instead, sit back with a pot of tea an enjoy a real classic era novel that will doubtlessly make my Top Ten again. Blackwells Online Completely brilliant!
I loved this book! A stunning return for the hero of last summer's release, A Fete Worse Than Death, with romance, Russians and fabulous evening dress thrown in. The plot races along, and you never guess what's going to happen next. Awesome book!
I haven't had a chance yet to read the new book, but I read Fete last year and thought it an excellent read. Someone is. It's , and Jack, a World War I veteran who writes detective stories, is visiting his cousin Isabelle Rivers at her parents' stately home, where the parents have gathered a crowd for their silver-anniversary festivities. But the party turns ugly when a guest is found shot to death. An alleged suicide note is found nearby, but Jack suspects murder. When another guest is discovered stabbed to death, Jack goes on the hunt. Complicating matters are a veritable school of red herrings, Isabelle's being torn between two suitors and the appearance of some communist revolutionaries.
With vision and vigor, Gordon-Smith pulls off another Golden Age delight -- one touched with contemporary concerns -- that will have readers longing for the return of the era, and for Jack and his pals. Hill Mad about the Boy? Hardcover In his play "Forty Years On", the inimitable Alan Bennett refers to "that school of Snobbery with Violence that runs like a thread of good-class tweed through twentieth century literature". In short, this is an eminently civilized and reassuring pastiche of the classic English detective genre: good style, fiendishly orchestrated plot, plucky protagonists, foreign assassins and suave villains.
Furs, Abdullahs, balls, butlers and Bugattis Spykers and Bentleys,actually ,set the social scene and provide an authentic background to the bizarre events. Toby and Bill Gottfried are well-known to many as very kind and hugely energetic organizors of Crimefest etc. When I say energetic, I mean it. You never know quite where in the world they're going to turn up next! I had the luck to be on a panel moderated by Toby at the Bristol Crimefest and her insight, comments and questions made it a very enjoyable experience, both for the panellists and the audience.
Bill, who was in the audience, helped with his very perceptive comments.