Thursday, 19 October 2017

Eureka by Anthony Quinn

published 2017



Eureka



[1966. Nat Fane, writer and man about town, is visiting his agent.]


Nat angled the Silver Cloud through the slender funnel of the mews entrance and parked. He could have come on foot – it was only a 10-minute stroll -but arriving by car felt more appropriate to his status as a client. It tickled him to think how much he loved this car… The one ant at the picnic was the appearance of an identical motor in Antonioni’s latest, Blow-Up. Now people would assume that he was trying to emulate David Hemmings, looking oh-so-cool in his white jeans and shirt unbuttoned down to here as he piloted his Rolls around London. Nat had bought his a year before, but sensed he would still look like a copycat.

In the foyer of Penelope Rolfe Management he flashed a smile at a couple of dolly birds clicking by, their outfits and make-up as vividly coloured as a kingfisher. Their smiles in return inclined Nat to wonder if they had the smallest idea who he was…

Penny cradled the receiver and spread her palms in beatific welcome. She was wearing one of her paisley turbans and a sky-blue star-printed jersey dress (‘Biba, darling’). Her face , tanned and shielded by the huge tinted lenses of her spectacles, have her a faintly mythological aspect: half agent, half owl.



Eureka 2


commentary: Everyone writing about London in the 1960s puts the women in Biba dresses, or features a trip to the iconic shop: but you can’t criticize them for that – it’s not a cliché, just a reflection of real life. It would be interesting to know when Biba was first mentioned in a contemporary novel of the 1960s. I had a quick look and couldn’t find anything that wasn’t from much later – but perhaps a Margaret Drabble novel might feature Biba?

This extract is typical of the book: it is well-written, interesting, carries the plot further – and also gives you plenty of anchors for the time and place, without shoving the research in your face. Quinn is very good on the clothes of his era…

This is the third in a loose trilogy: Curtain Call was set in the 1930s, then Freya took the story of some of the characters from the end of WW2 into the 1960s: now the story is picked up and moved on again. I’ve liked the series more and more as it goes on – I thought Curtain Call didn’t need the murder plot imposed on it (and I wasn’t convinced by the clothes - see the blogpost). But I loved Freya, and then this one even more, and hope there will be more.

The publisher’s blurb says ‘Sexy, funny, nasty, Eureka probes the dark side of creativity, the elusiveness of art and the torment of love’ and that’s a fair description. The characters are very rounded, and the book is entertaining and funny. It also contains a surprising amount of sex:
He briefly wondered if his hostess would provide the necessary, and, deciding not to leave it to chance, packed two Venetian carnival masks and his riding crop.
The framework of the novel is a film Nat is writing (called Eureka), a tale with Henry James (who is quite the blog favourite) and ‘the figure in the carpet’ at its heart. The shooting of the film allows Quinn to bring in a wide range of characters and settings: from respected British actor to young actress/waitress; from German avant-garde director to East End gangster. And there are plenty of parallels between the film and the book, and we can look for our own figure in the carpet.

It’s a solid satisfying read, and particularly enjoyable because it has such a wide range of ages in the major participants, the story is not at all confined to any one age group – or to any particular world or milieu. I have read a lot of books  set in the 1960s in recent years, and this is most definitely one of the very best.

I hope Anthony Quinn isn’t moving through the years too fast, and that there will be more of his history of the world…

Top picture is a Biba dress, second one shows David Hemmings taking his photos of the vivid dolly birds in Blow Up.

















Tuesday, 17 October 2017

Friends and Traitors by John Lawton


published 2017



Friends and Traitors 3


She stood at the top, just visible beyond the curve, and slinked into view.

He would not have missed this for the world. Her hair piled high on her head, her body sheathed in a scarlet dress that all but swept the floor. On the first half-landing she spun, and he could see that the dress, low-cut in the front, was even lower cut in the back. She glided towards him.


Friends and traitors 4


[Later, Troy meets a semi-colleague for the first time] Jordan had been right in his description – tall, dark and handsome. Indeed Kearney looked remarkably like the depiction of James Bond on the paperback of Casino Royale – the strong profile, the ever-errant lock of hair, the unfeeling brown eyes. The same cover on which Vesper Lynd was shown wearing the red dress Venetia had worn that night…


commentary: I rarely use pictures of dresses without a person inside, but this particular dress was so very much the right one … It is a 1955 Balenciaga evening dress, and is currently on show at the V&A museum in London. It is stunningly beautiful, and a masterpiece of design and construction.

John Lawton says his books can be read in any order. Len Deighton says the same about his Berlin triple trilogy, and I argued politely about that here. And now I would take issue with Lawton too – what are these authors thinking? I have read a lot of books by John Lawton, most of them dealing with the scandals, crimes and spy dramas of British life in the 1950s and 1960s. I always enjoy them, but they jump about all over the place, and presuppose an awful lot of knowledge about real life, and about Lawton’s books, and about quite a lot of other books as well – for example there is a character who would seem to be a resurrection of Margery Allingham’s Magersfontein Lugg, though he is not named as such.

This one was nudging at the end of my patience for the remarkable life of Frederick Troy -  though I did enjoy the work colleagues who made a list of all the people who had died in close proximity to him, including many policemen, and remarked how very suspicious that was. Well, exactly.

The books are meant to take an unsentimental and unblinkered view of the shady world of spies and criminals, but the hero Troy is unfathomably rich, lives in great comfort both in a Central London flat and a country house, and is smoothly well-connected, with his family (including his brother the Home Secretary) knowing anyone of any power and importance in the land. He is also magnetically attractive to all women. All of them. They can’t wait to jump into bed with him. He is marginally less convincing and more fairytale than James Bond in this respect: I read all the James Bond books last year, so feel I am in a position to judge.

And Lawton has plainly been looking at James Bond, as in the extract above. In fact Vesper Lynd does not wear a red dress in Casino Royale, though she does wear a red pleated cotton skirt at one point. The key dress she does wear is black velvet, and it is used to silence and blindfold her in a peculiarly unpleasant image.


Friends and Traitors 1

Still – the story was compelling and twisted and turned satisfyingly. Troy was shown to be a long-time acquaintance of the strange spy Guy Burgess. The early part of this book deals with early meetings between them between 1938 and the 1950s: then we jump to a connection between the two men later. There is the usual mistrust and uncertainty.

I think anyone who really enjoys spy stories will have time for this book… and probably the whole series.

The only Lawton book I have looked at on the blog was a non-fiction account of the Profumo Affair (that Mandy Rice-Davies hat!).

Earlier this year Joseph Kanon produced an excellent book called Defectors, again about the British spies who fled to Moscow in the 1950s – I used the same photo of Guy Burgess and Tom Driberg.


OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA         I have mentioned before that I am always on a watch for the word ‘credenza’ in books – usually a piece of office furniture in US crime novels of the 80s and 90s. In this book we have a Chippendale credenza! Stay classy, Lawton.






















Sunday, 15 October 2017

Fashion and Fiction: The Sublime Marian Keyes


Just before the Clothes in Books Italian holiday, I was lucky enough to attend one of the marvellous Fashion and Fiction events at the V&A Museum in London. Organizer Rosie Goldsmith interviewed Irish author Marian Keyes about her books, about fashion, about clothes in books – and about the TV programme Strictly Come Dancing. It was a great and joyous evening: Marian is obviously just as funny and nice in real life as she comes over in her books. For more on the Fashion and Fiction series, see their Facebook page or follow Rosie on Twitter.


These are my very bad pics of Marian Keyes signing books after the event:


The Break 1The Break 3


Her books Mystery of Mercy Close and Making it Up as I go Along have featured on the blog in the past.

The new book is excellent… and full of wonderful clothes descriptions. And, as it is Dress Down Sunday on the blog, of underwear.

The Break by Marian Keyes


The Break 8
published 2017


‘Get my Finery dress!’


Kiara pulls out an ivy-dark, high-necked, ruffle-bodiced midi, as sexy as a sack. Hugh has never minded me shunning slinky body-con. He’s actively steered me towards shin-length dresses with statement sleeves.



The Break 6The Break 7


[Later] My suitcase is mostly lingerie sets. In a reversal of most relationships, I’m only bringing out the big guns now. Asos were doing these fasbulous 50s-style knicker, a homage to the Dolce & Gabbana delights, all high-waisted lace-and-silk with built-in suspender belts and matching bras, the type you put on just so they’ll be removed quickly.



commentary: I found a very interesting review (recommended by Rosie Goldsmith) of a much earlier Keyes novel, Angels, here:
Keyes is a writer of romantic comedy who specialises in catastrophe and damaged lives… Indeed, Keyes is a kind of Chekhov of the abandoned woman, eloquent and inventive about women's feelings of rejection, loss and desperation, and their ceremonies of recovery.
And if that makes you think the books are just chicklit, or gloomy and depressing, then that is your loss. Keyes is a very funny writer, and she is a mistress of the recognizable detail – the make of the dress above, the family life described with such joy throughout, the passing comments:
It’s simply human nature – we mistakenly think there are only so many disasters to be allocated, and if it’s happening to someone else, we’ll be spared.
And she has some interesting and serious things to say in her so-very-readable books, and she has flatout great opinions about everything.

In this book, Amy thinks she had a good marriage with Hugh: but it turns out he wants a break, a six-month timeout during which he will travel and find himself – and perhaps sleep with other women. Amy is left at home with her job, her approximately three daughters, and her close, loving and maddening family. During the course of the book she curses her husband, deals with all kinds of problems, thinks hard about what led up to the current situation, and wonders who she might meet during the break. She works hard at her job in PR (and we find out a lot about the secrets of the business). And of course she wears wonderful clothes:


The Break 9
I was hurrying through Soho, dressed in a pair of dark blue clam-diggers, pointy pink stilettos and a button-through, candy-striped blouse…

I loved every minute of this book: it was funny, thought-provoking and informative by turns. I genuinely didn’t know how it was going to end up, whether Hugh would come back, whether their marriage was going to survive. And although I knew a lot about the abortion situation in Ireland, I learned more through a plot strand which I hope will be widely-read and discussed.


The underwear is by ASOS and the green dress is Finery – though sexier than the one Amy actually has I think. It is a very distinctive fashion label, and I have an admission to make: While searching their pages for a picture for this blogpost, I found a dress I rather like for myself, and it is winging its way to me now….













Wednesday, 4 October 2017

A Short Break

Clothes in Books

is taking a short break.
[I know. Another holiday. Lucky me.]


I'll be back in a week or so: in the meantime there are plenty of old books and posts to look at - please do investigate the tabs above. 



Sunday, 1 October 2017

Wasted On Children?


from Guest Blogger Colm Redmond


the book:

Heidi, by Johanna Spyri


published  1881 [translator from the German unknown, public domain]


[Heidi, aged 5 and wearing all her clothes at once on a warm day, is being hurried up a mountain by her aunt Dete, to live with her grandfather in the Swiss alps.]


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All at once she sat herself down on the ground, and as fast as her little fingers could move, began pulling off her shoes and stockings. This done she rose, unwound the hot red shawl and threw it away, and then proceeded to undo her frock. It was off in a second, but there was still another to unfasten, for Dete had put the Sunday frock on over the everyday one, to save the trouble of carrying it. Quick as lightning the everyday frock followed the other, and now the child stood up, clad only in her light short-sleeved under garment, stretching out her little bare arms with glee. She put all her clothes together in a tidy little heap, and then went jumping and climbing up after Peter and the goats as nimbly as any one of the party…

The child, able now to move at her ease, began to enter into conversation with [the goatherd] Peter, who had many questions to answer, for his companion wanted to know how many goats he had, where he was going to with them, and what he had to do when he arrived there. At last, after some time, they and the goats approached the hut and came within view of Cousin Dete. Hardly had the latter caught sight of the little company climbing up towards her when she shrieked out: "Heidi, what have you been doing! What a sight you have made of yourself! And where are your two frocks and the red wrapper? And the new shoes I bought, and the new stockings I knitted for you—everything gone! not a thing left! What can you have been thinking of, Heidi; where are all your clothes?" The child quietly pointed to a spot below on the mountain side and answered, "Down there."

commentary: If ever a book was too good for children, surely Heidi is it. It is funny and sly, full of vivid characters (solid clichés rather than stereotypes) and bursting with juicy scenes. It’s quite light and inhabits a very safe universe – the nearest anybody really comes to being a baddie is being a bit grumpy; and admittedly you’d grow up pretty naïve if you thought all your problems would be solved as easily as Heidi’s.

But what a joyful read it is. It was published nearly 50 years before Shirley Temple was born (and possibly borrowed its plot from a book 50 years older again) but might as well have been created with her in mind. Heidi is full of energy, optimism and wayward resourcefulness, like many a child protagonist – but she is not one of those who charms on one page and irritates on the next. And when anyone doesn’t take to her we know for sure that they are at fault. (She is also a staunch Christian and so is everyone else – there is a strong Christian message in the book, that might be hammered home a little too often for some tastes.)



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The grown ups are mostly stock characters and not exactly full of surprises. But the servants at the grand house in Frankfurt, Sebastian and Tinette, have a little more life in them than most. Heidi goes there to be a companion for a sickly child, Clara, and several lives are transformed as a result. In the second picture, from the 1937 film, Shirley Temple as Heidi stands between Clara and the stern housekeeper Fräulein Rottenmeier, whose outfit is a pale shadow of the one described earlier in the book, at their first meeting.
This lady was sitting very upright at a small work-table, busy with her embroidery. She had on a mysterious-looking loose garment, a large collar or shoulder-cape that gave a certain solemnity to her appearance, which was enhanced by a very lofty dome-shaped head dress. … Heidi was dressed in her plain little woollen frock, and her hat was an old straw one bent out of shape. The child looked innocently out from beneath it, gazing with unconcealed astonishment at the lady's towering head dress.
The main picture was too good to resist but is a cheat: it’s not from Heidi but from the set of the later film Rebecca Of Sunnybrook Farm. The internet can not agree on whether the photo should be this way around or flipped horizontally, but anyway, in this version: Temple is on the right and her long-time stand-in Mary Lou Isleib is on the left. The chap in between whose socks deserve their own article is presumably the director, Allan Dwan. There are masses of pictures of Shirley with Mary Lou over several years, growing up together, and they are strangely fascinating. Well worth a look.

Heidi is available free on Kindle. There are five other Heidi books, but Johanna Spyri didn’t write them.

Shirley Temple has her own entry on the blog here.

With thanks to the Guest Blogger: you can see his other contributions by clicking on the labels below. 



















Friday, 29 September 2017

Hit Man by Lawrence Block


collection of linked short stories first published in book form 1998

this story:

Keller on Horseback



Hit Man


Keller ordered a Coors at the bar. On the jukebox, Barbara Mandrell sang a song about cheating. When she was done, a duo he didn’t recognize sang a song about cheating. Then came Hank Williams’s oldie, “Your Cheatin’ Heart.” A subtle pattern was beginning to emerge.

“I love this song,” the blonde said. A different blonde, not the perky young thing from the front desk. This woman was taller, older, and fuller-figured. She wore a skirt and a sort of cowgirl blouse with piping and embroidery on it.

“Old Hank,” Keller said, to say something.

“I’m June.”

“Call me Tex.”

“Tex!” Her laughter came in a sort of yelp. “When did anybody ever call you Tex, tell me that?”

“Well, nobody has,” he admitted, “but that’s not to say they never will.”

commentary: This might be the perfect short story. It is certainly the only one I have ever read that seems to be composed of equal parts Country & Western song and Greek tragedy: it embodies both of those genres.
Everything had happened exactly the way it had had to happen. Encountering June in the Meet ’n’ Cheat, running into Hobie at the Burnout Bar. He could no more have avoided those meetings than he could have kept himself from buying the paperback western novel that had set the tone for everything that followed.
Lawrence Block is a giant of crime-writing, he seems incapable of writing a bad book. I’m not usually a fan of short stories but this book could almost convert me. Keller, the protagonist, is a hit man: a paid professional killer who commits murders to order. By the end of the book I was half in love with him, and entirely forgiving of his minor sins, and  I was rooting for him throughout. That is quite an achievement…

The stories are also very funny:
There was a tavern across the street, a perfect vantage point, but one look inside made it clear to Keller that he couldn’t spend time there without calling attention to himself, not unless he first got rid of his tie and jacket and spent twenty minutes rolling around in the gutter.

“Keller, I’ve been keeping your secrets just about as long as you’ve had secrets to keep. And you’re asking me—”  
“I wasn’t exactly asking you. What do they call it when you don’t really expect an answer?"   
“Prayer,” she said.  
“Rhetorical,” he said.



The individual stories, which do definitely have an overall arc, appeared separately in magazines such as Playboy. The whole effect is of something much longer ago than 1998, partly because of the revolution in communications since they were first published: information is hard to come by, phone calls and messages are problematic, but on the other hand Keller can be off-grid, travelling around in the USA leaving no fingerprints (metaphoric or real) and paying cash while giving a false name.

But none of that matters. You can never tell where the stories are going: there might be a long disquisition on stamp-collecting (most informative), a quote from Dr Johnson, or a joke about corsets from Corsica. The stories enthralled me. Lawrence Block completely removed the disapproval I would certainly have for a contract killer in real life…

The Western shirts are from a Sears catalogue.
















Thursday, 28 September 2017

Murder in the Atlantic by John Dickson Carr


Also published as:

Nine – and Death Makes Ten

& Murder in the Submarine Zone

Originally published as a  Carter Dickson book – on the blog I always combine all this author’s works under the name John Dickson Carr


published 1940



Murder in the Atlantic 3


[First night at sea: a transatlantic voyage in the early days of WW2, from New York to England]


Mr George A Hooper said… “Look at the Queen Murder in the Atlanticof Sheba!”

This marked the entrance of Estelle Zia Bey.

She had committed the blunder of dressing for dinner on the first night out, But no doubt she had done it deliberately. Mr Hooper’s whisper had been one of awe.

Mrs Zia Bey (confound that name, thought Max) wore an evening-gown cut so low in front as to make the modest Mr Hooper mutter under his breath. It reflected back in the innumerable mosaic mirrors in the dining-saloon. It showed off her superb shoulders, of the same soft golden-brown colour as her face. No wrinkles were visible now. She swung a black handbag from a wrist-strap. The ship rolled sharply as she came into the room, and a less steady-pinned woman would have gone skidding and scuttling into a pillar, clutching without dignity at her skirts.

But she only laughed at the steward who hurried to assist her.




Murder in the Atlantic 2


commentary: This ship, The Edwardic, is in extreme danger: it is travelling across the North Atlantic in January 1940, carrying munitions for the beleaguered British forces – ‘half a million pounds’ worth of high explosive, with four Lockheed bombers on the top deck.’ There is a constant threat from German sumbarines. Only a handful of very important passengers has been allowed onto the ship - and as this is a John Dickson Carr book, there will be at least one victim and one murderer among them, and the crime will be impossible. In this particular case, the murderer has left fingerprints behind – yet they do not match with those of anyone on the ship…

The crime plot is immensely gripping, and completely fooled me. With that small number of characters (the hundreds of crew on board can happily be eliminated, as in all the best murder stories) you wouldn’t think it was possible to come up with something quite as astonishing yet satisfying as his solution. The experienced reader is clocking up ideas and possibilities, but the true story came out of nowhere, and yet had been perfectly fairly clued in retrospect. A tour de force.

I had some questions about the later revelations, but I am prepared to accept Carr’s (referenced and footnoted) assertions, though I understood the point of one of them a good chapter or so before others did: that’s the best I can say for myself.

I was interested and surprised to read that everyone had to have a gasmask on board the ship.

The world off the ship is in a parlous state, and the constant threat from the enemy adds a curious and eerie atmosphere to the book, and it is most convincingly done - Carr made a very similar voyage himself (without the murder) so he knew whereof he wrote – but the question of what you wear to dinner is still very important, and everyone on board is far too busy snubbing, offending and criticizing each other to worry too much about the war…

My friend Sergio over at Tipping my Fedora said:
Go out and get this one – it’s an absolute classic.
So I did, and he was not wrong.

I was somewhat wary because one of my least favourite books by JDC is the dreadful Blind Barber, also involving murder on a transatlantic voyage, but this one (under whatever name) truly is top rank.

There are many other John Dickson Carr books all over the blog. 

The white dress is from 1938, Kristine’s photostream.

The black gown is the Ladies’ Home Journal recommendation for an evening dress for your travel wardrobe.

The young woman in more casual shipboard wear is from the National Library of Australia.