Monday, April 15, 2019

THE ORPHAN SCRIVENER -- ISSUE # ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN -- 15 APRIL 2019

Here at the moated grange we call Casa Maywrite there are few signs of spring. In fact, that sure sign of the change in season known as the Form 1040 has yet to appear, although we have been assured it and its six new supporting schedules will be sent when they are available. At that time we shall doubtless need our cogitative faculties immersed In cogibundity of cogitation, as Henry Carey noted about another matter entirely. And speaking of other matters, read on...


ERIC'S BIT or COGITATING ON A TOUCH OF DEATH

Charles Williams was one of the those brilliant and often underrated authors who wrote hard-boiled crime fiction for Gold Medal back in the Fifties. His 1951 debut novel Hill Girl had been turned down by hardback publishers but sold over a million as an original paperback. You might remember the 1989 movie Dead Calm, one of several film adaptations of his books. I've yet to read a bad book by Williams. My favorite thus far is River Girl, but A Touch of Death, first published in 1954 and available currently from Hardcase Crime, is plenty good.

The narrator, Lee Scarborough, used to be a college football star, now he's got a mailbox full of overdue bills and $170 in the bank. He runs into a woman who says her name is Diana James. She knows how she can get her hands on a lot of money and Lee's the perfect guy to help. It'll be easy. A simple break-in while the owner's away. And it is easy, for about fifteen minutes....

"Housebreaking, I thought. Auto theft. Abduction. What was next? Blackmail? Extortion? But I had it all figured now, I was still within jumping distance of solid ground in every direction, and I wasn't in much danger if I played it right. Somebody was going to come home first in that $120,000 sweepstakes, and as of now I looked like the favorite."

What's next, for Lee, it turns out, is a second woman, Madelon Butler: "chromium-plated and solid ice both ways from the middle."

And he's never going to figure her out.

Yes, it all ends in tears. If you've ever read a single noir crime novel from the Fifties I'm not telling you anything you wouldn't already know. Even if you've never read one, it's obvious right from the beginning, even to Lee, when he stops to think straight. Which isn't often with Madelon pulling his strings. With books like this the question isn't whether it's all going to go wrong but exactly how.

Why do I enjoy reading about guys who are in over their heads? Because it's the story of my life?

Embarrassing psychological questions aside, I love the style. The Fifties hard-boiled and noir authors could really write. Mickey Spillane, James Cain, David Goodis, Ed Lacy....you name him. They each knew that a short straight punch packs more wallop than a flashy roundhouse. If only more modern authors would dare to write with such energy and economy.

NOTE: Beware, this is not the literary author Charles Williams, who belonged to the Inklings writers group which included J.R.R.Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. I've read his All Hallows Eve, a novel involving ghosts and sorcery in wartime London which is wonderful, weird, and atmospheric but written ironically in an impenetrably turgid and awkward style, pretty much the exact opposite of the style employed by the pulp author Charles Williams.


NECESSARY EVIL or THE BSP TICKER

It is but coincidence Eric would write about hard-boiled fiction given the news on today's ticker resembles the proverbial curate's egg: part is good and part is not. As believers of requesting to hear the less good first so there's better news to cheer us up after receiving it, we'll do the same for our subscribers. Onward!

DIFFULTIES TO BE OVERCOME or SUDDENLY IT WAS GONE

It has been over a month since our website just up and disappeared without warning overnight. Despite free and frank discussions multiple times with our server, we're now at the point of moving our website. By the time this newsletter arrives Orphan Scrivener will be residing at

http://reedmayermysteries.000webhostapp.com/

There'll also be a change in email address and we'll announce that most useful info in due course. For the nonce, however, the current email address is still operating.

ONE FOR SORROW RETURNS or A SPECIAL OFFER FROM POISONED PEN PRESS

And now for the good news!

Poisoned Pen Press is currently offering special pricing on paperbacks of the first books in a number of the series they publish, including ours. So grab your opportunity to purchase the paperback One For Sorrow for $9.99 from

Barnes and Noble

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/one-for-sorrow-mary-reed/1101752428

Amazon

https://tinyurl.com/OFSoffer

Or from an independent book store of your choice.


MARY'S BIT or AVOID STEPPING ON FROGS

We recently saw The Illusionist, the story of a magician working in late 1880s Vienna, whose childhood love is a woman of a much higher social class. Its production values are excellent and it's an interesting if occasionally predictable film. However, there is a wonderful twist at the end which neither of us saw coming until it was nearly at the door, although it was quite plain it would when we reflected on earlier dialogue.

Seeing the film reminded me that some years ago we attended a charity fete. While wandering about the garden there we noticed a young man with a small table of the type from which TV viewers ate their dinners. He was not in fact lunching but rather just standing there, casually performing the most amazing display of card magick.

We stood on the other side of the table, his only watchers at the time and close enough to touch the velvet tablecloth. Despite staring hard enough at his hands to verge on rudeness we just could not see how he managed to accomplish what he was doing. When he took a break we got into conversation and discovered he had begun learning card tricks to help increase the flexibility of his hands, which had been affected by illness. It certainly worked well, since there was no sign of hesitation, fumbling, or stiffness while we were standing right there boggling at his skill.

There is something compelling about watching magick of any kind, isn't there? Thus it was inevitable that sooner or later it would show up in John's adventures. And indeed it did with the introduction of Dedi, a diminutive Egyptian magician, in Six For Gold. That entry in the series relates how John, accompanied by Cornelia and Peter, is sent to Egypt to investigate the curious case of sheep committing suicide -- a matter for which Dedi claims responsibility, intending it as a warning to a local dignitary attempting to appropriate his land.

During the course of the trio's visit other puzzling events occur, including a fiery apparition in the sky terrifying the locals, who take it to be a visit from Hecate. John and his companions also witness a performance by Dedi in which a coin leaps from a bowl, three stone scarabs are produced from the ear of an onlooker, and Dedi's talking oracular human-faced snake makes an appearance. Of course Dedi is an audacious fraud, and we explain the workings of such apparently supernatural happenings, although one or two are simple enough for it to be obvious to the reader how they were accomplished.

Since I am talking about Six For Gold, let me mention one of my favourite scenes though I realise I say it as should not. However, our newsletter is after all located in Liberty Hall, so, then, at one point John, Peter, and Cornelia are stranded in Alexandria and forced to go in for a bit of street theatre to get enough money to continue on their journey to reach Dedi's stamping grounds. In this most unlikely endeavour Cornelia does a turn as Empress Theodora, Peter plays her servant, and John reluctantly appears as himself. Oh, and a counterfeit mummy of one of those most magickal of creatures -- that is to say a cat -- is also on hand to provide assistance in the riotous proceedings.

As had been the case with Peter, Dedi turned out to be a character who kept knocking on the authorial door demanding to appear in more novels. As indeed has happened. He is at his most audacious in Ten For Dying, to the extent of attempting to return Theodora to life. His ritual involves a number of frogs but to his horror he accidentally steps on one while performing the ceremony. While he truly believes he has succeeded in his dreadful endeavour, he also knows that, having croaked a croaker, the wrath of the frog goddess Heqt will fall on his head, and that it will be just the start of his troubles.


AND FINALLY

Speaking of riotous proceedings, we'll close with a reminder the next Orphan Scrivener will return to grace our subscribers' in-boxes on 15th June.

See you then!
Mary R and Eric

who invite you to visit their home page, to be found hanging out on the virtual washing line that is the Web at http://reedmayermysteries.000webhostapp.com/ There you'll discover the usual suspects, including more personal essays, a bibliography, and our growing libraries of links to free e-texts of classic and Golden Age mysteries, ghost stories, and tales of the supernatural. It also hosts the Orphan Scrivener archive, so don't say you weren't warned! Meantime, our joint blog, largely devoted to reviews of Golden Age of Mystery fiction, lurks about at http://ericreedmysteries.blogspot.com/ Intrepid subscribers may also wish to know our noms des Twitter are @marymaywrite and @groggytales. Drop in some time!

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