Bedside Books

This was number eight of nine and was Guy Gavriel Kay's The Last Light of the Sun. At bottom it's the story of Alfred the Great set in Kay's own particular take on Dark Age Europe,  and the action takes place mainly in Wessex, with bits in Wales and Denmark too, and with characters from all three places getting tangled up in each other's lives. It's basically the same material that Bernard Cornwall used for his The Lost Kingdom et al, although Kay gets over the ground much more lightly and quickly. (As a quick digression I have never managed to finish a Cornwell novel, although I have tried several, including the free Kindle version of The Lost Kingdom. I have the greatest admiration for his work ethic as a writer, such a refreshing contrast to some other writers I could mention ... , I just find the finished product to be not to my taste.) This wasn't my favourite Kay book, as I didn't engage with many of the characters, very unusual for me with this author, which is not to say that I didn't feel a prickle a the back of my eyes at the death of one of them, and there was a bit too much self conscious portending of doom - something to which he seems to be becoming more prone. That said it was an enjoyable read. 

And as that was number eight of nine I daresay you're probably thinking that I now only have one bedside book left, but if that is what you're  thinking , you're sadly mistaken.  Because somehow, while I was working my way through that pile, a second pile grew up. The other three library pot luck books. A Christmas book from the OH, a Mother's Day book from Son No 1. A book passed on by a friend. So I have tossed the ninth of the original nine into the second pile which now comprises seven books and I shall soon be making a start on them. I just have this awful feeling that by  the time I get to the bottom of that one, there will be another one that has 'growed like Topsy' on the top of the drawers!

Library Pot Luck Part 1

I have several  book reviews to write up, including the latest from the 100 Books to Read Poster and the Bedside Books project but I'm starting off with three of the six books I got in my crime  pot luck library bag.

I naturally started with the one descried by a critic (from The Guardian, no less) as a 'zestful mix of criminous and domestic comedy' because that's the way I roll; and I have to wonder what the critic was on to find this either zestful or comedic. Possibly the fact that the protagonist, a female journalist on a local newspaper, went about doing a lot of stupid things and screaming and shouting at people confused him/her. So that you can avoid it I will tell you that it was called Bad Monday, and was written by someone called Annette Roome. According to the blurb she took up writing as a reaction to a mid-life crisis, and judging by her photograph this possibly had something to do with being a perfect 1950s female in a late 1990s world. That is a harsh criticism of someone I don't know, but I didn't enjoy her book at all so I'm not going to feel guilty. I don't like books with stupid narrators, whether they're male or female, it wasn't funny in the slightest,  the 'characterisation' was laughable, although not, obviously, in a funny way, and the ending was totally non-credible. I shall not be looking out any of her other books. 

Next up was Death Underfoot by Dennis Casley.I couldn't believe this was written as late as 1993 because it was so old-fashioned in its way of story telling, social attitudes etc etc. It was a standard murder mystery with a small group of suspects, an unlikeable victim and painstaking narration of detective work; Agatha Christi in Kenya in fact. I know people complain about Christie's prose, although I have no particular quarrel with it myself. It's not literary, but it does the job of telling a story in a clear way with no pretensions. I think possibly Mr Casley has pretensions somewhat beyond his actual ability, but that said this was a much better book than Bad Monday. The plot hung together, the motive and identity of the eventual killer were a surprise but totally plausible (always a plus) and   the background of post colonial Kenya  was interesting, especially with regard to the internal, and largely tribal,  politics which were quite shocking at times. 

Finally, my favourite of the three was the one I thought I would enjoy the least (ain't that so often the way?) It was The Good Friday Murder by Syrell Leahy. This had lots going against it before I even opened the cover.  It was American. It was about a cold case. It involved autistic twins. It's lead investigator and narrator was a just-left-the-convent former nun. I would normally run away screaming from any one of these. But in fact it was very enjoyable; the plot trotted along, the heroine didn't do stupid things or shout at people all the time, the autistic twin thing, wasn't overdone and it had a satisfactory, if rather sad, ending. Much better than anticipated. 

The other three are sitting somewhere waiting to be read - but more of that anon. 

Meanwhile anyone looking for funny but realistic crime novels could do worse than check out the work of the late Robert Barnard.He spent many years of his life in Leeds and I met him a few times at library talks,  and at Opera North, of which he was a great supporter. It is ironic that I learned of his death last year at the Scottish Literature Congress in Vancouver  It's a long time since I gave away my paperbacks of his books, and I rather regret doing that now as I doubt they have a stock of them in Orkney Library. As a taster, here's a misprint he concocted for  a concert program in his book Death on the High Cs

Slut, demeure, chaste et pure

It's a bit late, but RIP Robert. 

Knitted Up!

Back in April I recorded our trip to the Hoxa Tapestry Gallery and said I'd bought some of Jo Thomson's hand dyed Shetland wool. I didn't ever put up pictures of the two skeins we bought, so here you go - 

This was the OH's choice ....

.... and this was mine

Mine became a wrap with all the colours of an Orkney sunset in it

because of the generally short colour changes I opted for a textured stitch rather than a lacy or cabled one. This pattern was perfect, for any Ravelry readers it's Casapinka's Woven. 

with the OH's skein, which was called something like Rocks and Lichen I made him a hat and fingerless mitts for when he's outside in the autumn nights faffing about with the telescope.

I've never knitted with Shetland wool before and now I know why people describe it as sticky! as it has a tendency to cling to itself, but it resulted in a lovely thick, warm bouncy fabric that is very pleasing to the touch.

This wool wasn't cheap, but I think, given that it is Shetland, and for the yardage and the truly amazing colours, it was definitely worth the price  I paid. If I didn't have a shedload of wool in the house already I'd be up for buying some more. 

100 Books to Read Poster Number 4

And it was Bad Science by Ben Goldacre

I'm in two minds about this one really. It was educational, informative and vey entertaining all at the same time, so a Good Read as the BBC would have it.

I was truly appalled and shocked by some of the stories he had to tell and if I had ever had a mind to give credence to health scare stories in the Daily Mail (which I hadn't) I think this book would have put paid to that fair and square. 

It is I think slightly mistitled since it is actually about bad science (and mainly medical) journalism, but I suppose Bad Science Reporting isn't quite as eye catching as a title. I gather it's also the title of the  column Goldacre has or had in The Guardian so it ties in with that. 

On the downside, I think his dismissal of the  'liberal arts graduates' some of whom disseminate this stuff as lazy, because they can't be bothered to understand the real science behind the research, and as people who sneer at science as being somehow beneath them, really misses the mark. I have been sneered at countless times by scientists because my studies, which have over the years covered language, history and literature,  are 'useless' and which can be done by 'anyone in their spare time'. Also, science IS difficult for some of us to understand, and whether that is because we were badly taught, or our brains can't cope or a mixture of the two, it does mean we are in need of an intermediary to explain things to us. (Just as,  I might venture, a scientist attending a conference in Japan for example, might well need an intermediary from the 'useless' discipline of Japanese Studies to help him not make a prat of himself/ badly offend his hosts by his behaviour at it.) And in addition to all that, statistics is a minefield of a subject, and only someone well versed in sophisticated statistical techniques can be expected to understand the statistical import of some research studies. 

Also, for someone who is keen to encourage readers  not to take things on trust and to test things for themselves ,(known incidentally in his despised humanities subjects as Critical Analysis, and something which undergraduates are expected to master at an early stage) he makes an awful lot of sweeping assertions of his own  which he presumably expects the reader to go along with. That strikes me as somewhat ironic. 

Despite the caveats though the verdict on Bad Science is - A Hit. 

How did that happen?

The title is a disingenuous,  specious and rhetorical question, because I know perfectly well how it happened. I foolishly checked some of the For Sale posts in the UK Ravelry group, saw these and bought them. I shouldn't have done it, because I have more than enough wool to keep me knitting for many years already, not to mention that I am currently on  a determined drive to knit up as much wool as I already have as quickly as possible while I am not studying. It was therefore extremely stupid of me to buy this  and I am cross with myself for doing it , just like I'm cross with myself when I eat chocolate.

It is a small (very small) consolation that I do at least know what I plan to do with most of it.

A Lovely Surprise

Since I am on the road to recovery, and since the OH is showing signs of becoming wheezy and developing a sore throat, I thought it behoved me to go with him when he went to the supermarket this morning. 

When we got back I found these in the sunroom

from a bunch of virtual friends, hoping that I get better soon. 

They are gorgeous and include three lilac carnations, something I've never even seen before. And although I know lilies aren't to everyone's taste, I love 'em. 

It quite cheered up my day. I intend to spend the rest of it sitting in front of the fire (Orkney is horribly grey and foggy today) listening to my latest Audible download and knitting a hat for the OH from the other skein of Jo Thomson hand dyed Shetland wool. That sounds like a plan. 

Baking Subscription May

The lurgy is at long last losing the struggle thank goodness, and yesterday I even summoned up the energy to do this month's baking subscription.

It was carrot cake cookies. 

You will see from the picture that I am rubbish at icing using a piping bag. To be fair it was my first ever try. It wasn't so much icing either as cream cheese frosting. The OH and I agreed that it didn't actually bring much to the party. There seems to be a fashion for icing stuff these days that a previous generation would happily have eaten 'plain;.

These were OK. They're too big and I don't think I would bother with them again as it is far too much faff to grate the carrot (even when your OH does it in the food processor for you) which you then never actually see or taste.  Which is roughly how I feel about carrot cake itself really. On the upside I never bake cookies or biscuits off my own bat, so it's nice to be made to try now and again. 

Today my returning energy levels meant I tidied the living room. Just as satisfying in its own way.