feather_ghyll

REVIEW: The Explorer's Son

2009-12-21T14:14:01Z

The Explorer's Son: Theodora Wilson Wilson. The "Boy's Own Paper" Office.

I started reading this because it was the next in the pile, as it were, but it turned out to be a rather seasonal story. Donald Fisher and his mother are renting rooms in a homely farm in the 'Northlands'. Lilla Fisher has stayed there, shunning society and her family, for several years because she refuses to accept that her explorer husband died in a failed Arctic expedition. However, she is starting to think that this reclusive life is bad or limiting for her son, who will not leave her for a good school because of a promise he made to his father. But when he is involved in a ski-ing accident on Christmas Eve, it's an opportunity for his mother to send for her doctor brother-in-law, who brings his eldest son along to confirm that after a little rest, Donald will be fine, and contact with the outside world begins. The focus expands rather from the titular character, covering his more boisterous cousins, who include mischevious twins Kat and Rat, musical Jonathan and impulsive Betsy, the local dale farmers and a mysterious blind man that sailor Benjamin brought home. As with many of the coincidences - some of which are not such strange ones when more of the family history and connections are revealed - you can tell where it's going, and it's no surprised when the long-lost will is found by the twins (of course it is - I'd thought it would be something to do with the fiddle, but it turned out to be somewhere else).

Although the focus is supposedly more boy centric, and intrsting that "The Boy's Own Paper" had no problem with publishing such a book by an authoress, it's really a family book, with some sentimentality in the theme of reuinisting families. There's some fun and humour, with lots of interest in Arctic exploring. There's also a north and southy theme, with the hard, healthy, outdoor country life in the dale contrasted with southern Goldres' Green, where the Bellmans live. I didn't feel compelled to read it from first page to last without cease, but it was fin, although I've found the other books by her that I've read more engrossing.

And as I probably shan't have a chance to do this: Merry Christmas to you all! (Happy reading!)

REVIEW: Cracks (2009)

2009-12-07T21:23:36Z

Cracks (2009) (rated 15)

Directed by: Jordan Scott
Written by: Ben Court and Caroline Ip
Starring: Eva Green, Juno Temple, Maria Valverde, Imogen Poots

http://uk.imdb.com/title/tt1183665/

I went to see this film because it's film set in a girls' boarding school (which isn't St Trinian's). It's 1934 at St Mathilde's School on an island, somewhere in England. The girls of the close-knit diving team, who share a dormitory and table, are told they are going to be joined by a new girl, a Spanish aristorcrat. They are not impressed. And of course, when Fiamma arrives, she upsets the balance.

This is not at all so far so St Clare's or wherever. In fact, it's best to get over the 'This wouldn't happen at the Chalet School' very quickly, although impossible to stop the guffaw when a mistress bemoans that they've never had anything like this happen when a girl seems to run away. As the trailer suggests, it's a claustophobic tale about female sexuality, hysteria, coming of age and power struggles. It also reminded me that I like my school stories with a beginning of term, a middle of term (a half term holiday or adventure) and an end of term. This doesn't fit into that mould. Some of the actresses playing the younger girls wouldn't be allowed to see it.

I'm not sure what the film is trying to be, really. It's trying to be grittier than the girls boarding school story for girls, or addressed towards adults, but you couldn't call it more realistic. In fact, it's more powerful moments are wordless shots of the girls diving, swimming, dancing or moving like a phalanx.

Di Radford is the team captain, and something of a bitch, but she's unquestionably the leader of the team, the one who sets the standard, as her adored Miss G says. Miss G is all cool sophistication at first (and marvellously dressed throughout). She urges the girls to be free, allows them illicit indulgences and gets their unquestioned trust and adoration. The arrival of Fiamma, who has lived more than these cloistered girls, having travelled, read more widely than merely Romantic poets and got herself a boyfriend, beautiful and never more so when she dives from on high...well, Di is no longer Miss G's favourite. But Fiamma (the most sympathetic character) doesn't want Miss G's 'friendship'. However, her every attempt to make friends with the hostile dorm gets thwarted, often nastily so, ending in a midnight feast gone very wrong.

I tried to inject some intrigue there, but the film doesn't manage it. It's apparent from early on that, apart from the erotic frisson of lively young girls with a pash on a glamorous teacher who sits and watches as they dive, framed in the sky, gives them gifts, stories and attentions like midnight dips...Miss G is unhinged. She's a fantasist, untrustworthy (and the headmistress seems to know this but has put her in charge of a diving team, where more than once her lack of wisdom puts asthmatic Fiamma in danger, but all she gets is a lecture about not giving the girls a sense of proportion). You can tell how things will go from even before the film flirts with and foreshadows it. Apart from Fiamma and perhaps the littlest girl and perhaps Fuzzy (Persephone) the girls aren't that sympathetic. They're a clique, in that clique they're bullies, with Di their leader by force of personality more than anything. Oh, they're innocent too, in a way, but what did they think was going to happen when six turned on one? THrowing stones at someone and hitting them isn't a game.

It does all go very hysterical and melodramatic and pandering a little towards the end. There are some accidental guffaws, but it's so rare to see this type of film and the look and the atmosphere are gripping. I don't love Eva Green as an actress and I thought she overplayed her cards, but the three main girls are a young Felicity Kendall, a young Kate Winslet and a young Penelope Cruz.

PERSONAL: Goodbye then, Borders in the UK

2009-11-29T14:31:21Z

I saw in the newspaper on Friday that Borders was going into administartion, and so, on Saturday, I decided to go to the shop, feeling like a vulture. (It's become a tradition, sadly, after Woolworth's last year). I spent far more than I normally would at Borers (which is part of the problem), gifts, unreduced stationery and fantasy books I'd had my eye on before, knowing that even with a discount, they were probably still dearer than online (which is another part of the problem). I've always liked Borders. All the stores I've visited had had an airier feeling than Waterstone's. But then, I'd been given a book token on my birthday and I think I had to get them to order something, because there wasn't anything on the shelves that I wanted. It was very busy, dispiritng because there was a guilty buzz, even though I don't know how many real bargains people got.

REVIEW: A Term to Remember

2009-11-21T17:35:31Z

A Term to Remember: May Wynne. Aldine.

For an allegedly 'top-hole' school, Bexford House School is full of the most avaricious, arrant snobs, with transient loyalties (also known as schoolgirls). It also lacks a form system or a prefecture, with the leader of ths school not gaining that position from experience and seniority. And even I, unsporty as I am, know enough to know that the school cricket team, which is ambitious enough to challenge a boys' school, would do better if they practised instead of holding numerous meetings to try to vote in a captain.

It's not 'a term to remember' so much either, as the plotline is extremely familiar. Clare is in tears at the beginning of the book. She's returning to her beloved school, where she's been Queen Bee and Lady Bountiful due to the charity of the headmistress, Mrs Levall. Her father has lost his fortune and his health, so it is quite likely that this term will be her last term, and a difficult term, at that, because her position was underwritten as much by the Bank of Daddy as her personality. During the term, she discovers that the average schoolgirl is a wayward creature, she has two or three enemies (one is more of a rival who recants, and at least one of the others is expelled for meanness on top of breaking bounds). Clare also has staunch friends in Brenda and Susie (my favourite characters, as they weren't failing to be nobly tragic or Pannish, they just were schoolgirls, fiery in defence of their friends, curious and hungry by turns). The trio becomes a quartette with the addition of new girl Ray (Raymonde), another charity girl, who's a bit of a Luna Lovegood, and loves animals and nature, but doesn't care for smart clothes.

The term is crammed full of 'larums and excursions - the most original being Ray rescuing the animals in a pet shop from a fire started by hoodlums who'd taken against the half-French owner. This newsworthy behaviour reaches her long-lost uncle in South America, which brings him back to restore orphaned Ray's family fortunes and Clare's in time for the end of the book! But Ray and Clare also rescue the headmistress's daughter and school baby from a delusional woman who's own daughter died due to diptheria. Clare and Susie miss a picnic because the begged a lift in a plane from passing airmen! They rescue their enemies in a riverboating accident. Oh, and the trope I loathe, where Clare meets the brother of the French mistress, Mads. Rumour has it that he is accused of a crime at his place of work. But having looked him in the eye, honourable and wise Clare just knows he's innocent and uses her precious shillings to buy food for him, forgetting she's not allowed to go into town alone, which leads to other trouble for her. He lives in a nearby cave until his sister comes back to school after tending to their invalid mother. There's an interesting pro-French slant to this book, but otherwise it's guilty of telling not showing and of being a bit feeble all round, really.

REREADING: In the High Valley

2009-11-15T19:06:12Z

In the High Valley: Susan Coolidge Latimer House 1949.

I got this many, many moons ago, and may have reread it since, but last year, I bought a copy of ‘Clover’, a sequel to the ‘What Katy Did’ trilogy, which brings Clover Carr to the high valley of the title of this sequel. I meant to reread this book after finishing 'Clover'. It took me a few months to do so. Ah well, it's only taken me a few weeks to get this up. In the High Valley is set several years later, not only is Clover a mother, but so is Elsie, the third Carr sister, who fortunately married Clarence, the cousin who admired Clover. But she preferred Geoff, his English ranching partner.

However, it takes the story a while to get to them because we begin with Imogen and Lionel Young, on the verge of leaving their North Devonshire home. Lion is to return to Colorado and become a partner in Geoff and Clarence’s ranching enterprise, after serving a n apprenticeship there. His sister, whom he calls ‘Moggy’ (there’s no explicit mention of another sister named Kitty, but she must exist) is joining him to keep house for him. Imogen is an unusual heroine, in that she isn’t really a heroine, exactly, just a way into the continuing domestic adventures of the Carrs. Healthy but not quite pretty, she isn’t bright, clever or creative, and her life has been somewhat limited. She has quite the insular prejudice about the superiority of her own country and what the States will be like. Her brother and others’ words do nothing to dissuade her and she commits quite a few faux pas before experience teaches her differently.

She has also conceived a dislike of Clover, her future closest neighbour, who has become the darling of Clover’s sister-in-law who happened to be Imogen’s oldest friend. And Imogen has never been anyone’s darling. Her brother cares for her, but they are both one of many children and she is sent with him out of convenience. Having arrived in the high valley with all these prejudices, of course, Imogen finds out that Clover is a true friend. Elsie is a touch more autocratic and less kind-hearted. In a reminder of previous books, a fever teaches Imogen to value Clover, who hs inherited her father's healing abilities, and her reward for her penitence for being an idiot is starchy Dorry Carr, who she calls Theodore, while her brother Lionel finds happiness in Johnnie/Joan/Joanna/John, the youngest Carr girl.

This is more the (ex)Carrs story than Imogen’s. People from the previous books cross her path – the Ashes, Rose Red and Roselein and even Katy Herself make appearances. We learn that they’re mostly happy and contented, with Clover and Elsie excelling at the domestic arts and improvisation required in their elevated home. By the end, with the inducement of three out of four daughters and two grandchildren, Dr Carr retires to Colorado too.

It was an easy enough read, satisfying the curiosity about what happens next to all the characters previously introduced (which kicks in with any series of this kind). For a book that pokes fun at anti-American bigotry, it is wince-inducing in its depiction of the main characters' Asian servants. It’s got the frothiest of romances as a cherry on top, but it’s focus is more on keeping the sisters together. Imogen shows more passion over her friendships, which would be relatable for a wide audience of girls, in her jealousy over Isabel’s friendship with Clover (or over leaving her family behind, come to that). She leaves with Dorry, we stay with the family in the Valley.

OVERVIEW: School stories on film

2009-11-07T18:19:05Z

Ths isn't the review that I said was coming (but then today was meant to be a book-buying day and that didn't happen either). Friday before last I read Anne Billson's feature on 'An Education', An Education that is very British, and the depiction of (British) school life or lack therefor on the big screen. I then saw 'An Education' (recommended, even if it sometimes falls on the side of being funny and charming rather than profound, the acting is very good, and the heroine's school life is a thread) and before it a trailer for Cracks, which is mentioned in the feature. I'm not sure entirely whether elements that were hinted at in the trailer will come through in the film. It looked like one I'd want to see, although everyone's hair was awfully messy!

Anyway, in her feature, Billson asks But why did no one ever film Malory Towers, or The Chalet School?. She discusses part of the reason in the feature, I think, St. Trinian's, which in part parodied the girl's school story. A strong, parodic or absured iconography like that made a 'straight' rendition difficult. In addition, the examples she offers are series, which before the Harry Potter and Twilight phenomena would probably put film-makers off (but why no television series?) Perhaps not so much these days? I don't know. It would be fun to see an all-girls school story with the rivalries, the midnight feasts, the prefects nd mistresses and the daring rescue from a fire or unexpected tide!

PERSONAL: Confirming I'm alive

2009-11-04T08:17:16Z

I've just been rather busy and not reading what could be classified as Girls Own. The closest I've come to it was The Rag Bag Family by Yvonne Coppard, which is a children's paperback about thirteen year old Rita, who's life goes into turmoil when her grandmother, who has always looked after her, has a stroke and she is sent to a foster family. I thought it was well-written and liked the dervlopment of Rita. I also read Summer Love by Diane Schwemm, which is book 1 of a series set in 'Silver Beach'. I won't be rushing out to try to find the rest of the series. It's about families who go to the same lakeside resort every year, but it's the end of their childhood for siblings Elli and Ethan. Apart from freaking out about her own possible boyfriend and the realisation that adults are fallible, Elli's worried that Ethan is involved with her nemesis Charlotte. Despite the focus on boy-girl love, it is perhaps Elli and Charlotte's mutual obsession (Charlotte envies Elli's 'perfect' life) that drives the book. It was written in a really patronising font.

Otherwise, after finally using Watersones's online service (because their shops seemed to have stopped stocking anything I'd like to buy) in response to what could be termed begging e-mails - their wonderful hub (see The Bookseller) let me down.

I hope that a review or two will be posted here eventually, but life is still looking like being busy at present.

TENNIS: US Open 2009

2009-09-14T18:53:21Z

I am typing this before the men's final begins.

I was really jealous of someone at work saying that they'd stayed up all night to watch the tennis. Every time I've remembered to switch on Radio 5SL, they've been either advertising their US Open coverage or apologising for rain delays, so I haven't had an opportunity to get used to listening to radio commentary as opposed to listening and watching TV commentary. At the middle of the slam, I have to say that I thought it would be Serena and Federer. (I thought Murray would be back in the finals too, but I thought Federer would be too strong. As it turned out, Cilic was. I think the world no. 1 should be too strong for Del Potro, using the word 'strong' to mean as a player.

Anyhow, well done Kim Clijsters - as the world expected after the semis. Good for her to come back and see the hard work that came after her decision to return be repaid so handsomely (and she manged what Davenport and Hingis did not. But then, perhaps she should take late-flowering Capriarti as a morel). I think that it says something about the weakness of the women's game, specifically the top women's game. I don't know how serious the Henin rumours are, but she's got to be tempted. We'll see if Clijsters manages to sustain this level.

Ha, 'see', when I certainly shan't see the men's final!

REVIEW: Cherry Ames at Spencer

2009-09-04T17:19:50Z

Cherry Ames at Spencer

Some other time, I will do the research and write something more considered about Cherry Ames - both girl detective and career girl and surely the poster girl for the hybrid series, usually published by World Distributors. She takes on a different nursing job in each books, which seems to involve a child-appropriate mystery and good looking young doctors who would sure like to know rosy-cheeked Cherry better. Unlike the heroines of other nursing books, she must always disappoint them, because she always loves ~~Dr Joe~~* the most.

Cherry Ames at Spencer by Julie Tatham. World Distibutors 1958

The book certainly hits all the things I expected to see. Cherry and fellow nurse Josie are rejoining Gwen, their friend since student nurse days at a newly built children's hospital at Spencer, the hospital where they trained and Cherry got into 'scrapes' that are fondly remembered by the staff. On her first day, Cherry is told about the story of Dot Jepson, a young girl whose rheumatic fever brought her into hospital, where it was discovered that she was hard of hearing, which is to be cured by radon treatment that Cherry is involved in dispensing. Her father is on the run having escaped prison (I think) where he was sent for a crime he didn't commit, but as Dot's worsening health and his need to care for her meant that he lost his job, he was convicted as a credible suspect of a pawnshop robbery. Cherry soon deduces that circumstantial evidence turned into fact due to misunderstandings and a defence lawyer with no imagination. She makes it a personal crusade to clear the name of aa man she suspects of being in contact with his daughter (the barely competent reader will not be surprised as to the identity of the Frog Prince as Dot refers to him).

We only seem to be following Cherry on her first days here and the mystery and what Cherry does about it gets far more attention than any nursing that Cherry does. She seems to get a lot of praise for it, but she's somewhat negligent in the case of malnourished Rudie Fowler, who she knows is dehydrated and seems to be having trouble at home. But there's no acknowledgement - as there is with Nancy Drew - of how obsessive she is about the case. It all comes good in the end, of course.

There's a sub-plot about the man who runs the children's hospital deciding who to promote as Resident and seeking new arrival Cherry's advice, based on her impressions bcause her reputation precedes her and he sees that she can handle children well. In fairness, Cherry relates general staff opinion as much as her own beliefs, and by instinctively calling on the better doctor to help her with a medical emergency regarding Rudie - who is ill-treated and an undiagnosed diabetic - she points the chief towards the right doctor. Both the successful and the unsuccessful doctor are fervent admirers of Cherry’s charms, although too broke as yet to think of marriage, but they are touted as light-hearted romantic interests.

Her reward after what can't be more than a few weeks' work is a recommendation for her 'dream' job of night supervisor at another hospital (although the demands of the series probably meant that she didn’t last there long). Thinking too much means that I end up picking at Cherry. I would have preferred more nursing talk – I remember being impressed by Cherry Ames Flight Nurse at least, but ~i might have read that at an impressionable age. Did the authorship make a difference in the quality of the books (Helen Wells wrote the bulk of the series). As it is, this is somewhat mechanistic, but it was a quick read and a change, as I haven’t read any Cherry Ames or career stories/mysteries in a while.

*A pet theory. Or maybe the writer(s) had issues. Okay, really he’s her mentor figure, and the idea we’re meant to take from ther relationship and his inspiration is that he engendered a desire to nurse in Cherry. That’s it. But no other man compares to him or what he inspired her to do. I know, I'm reading too much into it and ignoring the fact that Cherry’s relationship with Midge, his teenage daughter, as she is always referred to, is more important in the books. Didn’t Nancy get a sidekick? Midge is there to link between Cherry the career woman who is often in an adult position of responsibility with the girl reader.

REVIEW: The Girl Who Wouldn't Make Friends

2009-08-30T15:00:05Z

The Girl Who Wouldn’t Make Friends: Elsie J. Oxenham Nelsion Triumph Series

I bought this because it was by EJO, but by the end of the first chapter, I knew I’d read about the further adventures of Robin and thr Abbey links to Plas Quellyn. Not that I can remember much about them, and I’ll have to hunt up my copy of Robins at the Abbey. Of course, it should be no surprise to me that it's linked, aren't all her books?

The only daughter between two brothers – Cuthbert ‘The Tortoise’ and Dicky ‘The Hare’ – Robertina Brent discovers the reason for her odd name on the same day that she discovers that she has inherited the estate of Plas Quellyn. Robert Quellyn was her mother’ childhood friend. He wanted to marry her, but by the time that he found her to propose, she had fallen in love with and married the children’s father. Quellyn became a well-known artist and had a chance to help the family financially just before Robertina – familiarised to Robinette and even Robin – was born, and the Brents chose not to name her Roberta in gratitude. (Sorry, I find Robertina ridiculous). He made out his will to her not long after, if he were not survived by a wife and child, and never rewrote it.

Thirteen years passed, during which he married, but no children were born to them and his wife predeceased him – one of the subjects of his famous paintings based on the Mabinogion. So, Robin Brent is his heiress.

But a letter from Gwyneth Parry, Robert Quellyn’s sister in law, mentions the orphaned daughter of a friend that Quellyn and his wife had taken on as their own. I know that this is the early twentieth century, but they apparently never went on to legally adopt her, although Oxenham has one of the characters refer to her as Miss Quellyn, there is no talk or expectation of this little Welsh girl, also called Gwyneth and referred to as Gwyneth fach, inheriting the house. This struck me as off, because surely the girl who grew up in and knew Plas Quellyn and the nearby cottage of Moranedd so thoroughly and called Quellyn ‘Daddy’ would have a better moral claim on the place than the (English) daughter of a woman he had a boyhood feeling for, even if not a legal one. But EJO never seems to see this as an issue, perhaps because she is so focused on the characterisations.

Gwyneth fach is indeed the Girl Who Wouldn’t Make Friends, but it is mainly pride and having been allowed to have her own way that drives her. She feels the Brents are taking her on as a responsibility because they have to, because she comes along with everything else to do with the properties and is not seen as a person who is wanted. So she decides to hate them, rejecting Robin’s numerous gestures – Robin is the Girl Who Would Make Friends. Gwyneth hides from them (and steals some of Robin’s property, actually). The locals, the Brents' new friend, Ivor, and the elder Gwyneth keep her secrets until an accident that hurts Robin starts showing Gwyneth fach how mean some of her tricks are, all the more so when serious illness strikes the newcomers’ father. Meanwhile, Robin really is extremely forbearing towards the other girl, (because she pathologically wants another sister?). There’s some talk of morality – Gwyneth had no strong foundations and no parental checks. In fact, if you read between the lines, RQ comes across as fecklessly irresponsible. There’s no talk of an especially Christian background – his interest is in the Mabinogion, which came to us via monastic hands but are rooted in pre-Christian tradition.

Although she is, it is to be presumed, the Brent’s dependent and social equal, somehow, Gwyneth fach’s status and background is never stated. She isn’t a traditional Welsh chapel girl, and we aren't told of her education, although she is fully bilingual, which suggests some level of local education. With all that in mind, I found the whole premise of the book a little bizarre.

Robin is in the Joan and Jenny-Wren mould (whom I don’t mind), but Cuthbert and Dicky...Well, Cuthbert wants to be a doctor, so he’s borderline cruel to any animals that cross his path, in the desire to study them. Dicky really got on my nerves. He’s the youngest child and the one who says the most tactless thing at the most inopportune time, flies off the handle, rushes at things and mostly gets away with it because he is nine. Brat. Actually, the female characters seem to be ndulgent, beyond telling them off in a way that seems designed to bounce off them.

There’s also the issue of the Welsh setting. I thought EJO was fairly sympathetic, and presume that she’d been to this area as a visitor, though her viewpoint is that of an outsider. The spelling of the placenames was really mixed, sometimes Welsh, sometimes Anglicised (there is no ‘v’ in Welsh and calling Yr Eifl the Rivals is ACTUALLY a travesty, not a joke). Some of the Welsh dialogue is plain wrong, but although EJO and her characters can’t explain the rules of mutation or reasons for it, at least she acknowledges it exists. At times, too, EJO’s forgetfulness or lack of comprehension that the Gwyneths and Ivor would talk Welsh among themselves bugged me. She seemed to share a little too much of bigoted John Bull Dicky’s perspective.

Anyway, the book ends on a rubbish defence by the now united children of Gwyneth fach’s hideout from thieves who have discovered she’s keeping some of RQ’s paintings there (both of which are technically Robin's property). By rubbish, I mean Peggy the Amazon and Roger Walker could have come up with better strategies between them.

It was an interesting and absorbing read, Oxenham usually charms me, even if EJO’s prejudices came up against mine a fair bit, and I really must hunt up the relevant Abbey books to refresh my memory as to what happened next.

PERSONAL: bits and bobs

2009-08-22T20:40:38Z

Following the last post on the Guides documentary, there was a feature in the Guardian's women's pages about the Guides, linked to the anniversary that inspired the documentary. (It's a very Guardian's women's page feature, but there were pictures of Guiding books in the paper!) Keep the campfires burning: 100 years of the Girl Guides by Emine Saner.

I'm currently reading a Bessie Marchant story. I don't know whether I'll write up a review, but I hope to type up a full review of an EJO book in the next few days. In another example of my indeciseveness, I went to a shop two days ago and saw two Viola Bayley books!!! I've been wishing I'd come across some for ages (by which I mean several years). I was thrilled. Then I saw the prices. One was going for £25 pounds (well, I bought four books from the same shop for that total, so even though it was rare I forgot about it even as it was in my hands). Another was going for a more affordable price, but the title was less distinctive (most of her books are called 'Somewhere Adventure'). There was also a Mabel Esther Allan but I wasn't sure whether I had a copy of that or not either. I decided to check and think about it.

I came to my decision, returned to the shop this morning to find it closed when it should be open, and I had a train to catch. By the time I return to that shop, I have no doubt all those books will be gone. I don't know if there's a moral to the story (well, I could have gone to the shop yesterday when it would have been open, or even checked the books. And, in fact, I daresay I posted a similar story about this same shop and other books this time last year). I normally make up my mind whether to buy or not on the spot and can live with it.

Never mind, I came home to find a Girls Gone By edition of a book that I saw for sale at well over £100 in shops in London I know I shouldn't bother entering. But this copy has the advantages of what's sure to be an informative introduction and no guilt for breathing on it, or eating and drinking around it. In some ways, I'm a terrible book collector, I'm more of a story devourer. Whatever I am, the catalogue was tempting.

Oh, and I read my first Helen MacInnes today (Ride a Pale Horse), encouraged by positive comments on callmemadam's lj, which I'd echo. For a spy thriller, the characters were satisfyingly paranoid and thoughtful. I look forward to reading more by her.

OVERVIEW: 100 Years of the Girl Guides

2009-08-19T14:17:22Z

I just watched the hour-long documentary 100 Years of the Girl Guides, which aired on BBC4 on Sunday on iPlayer, where it can still be watched by residents of the UK until Sunday night. Past experience suggests that it will be repeated on BBC2 at some point.

I was never a Brownie, Guide or Ranger, but read about them from enthusiastic proponents like Mrs Osborn-Hann, Ethel Talbot and Catherine Christian (or is it Christine Chaundler? perhaps both). The programme, a mixture of history with talking heads: former Brownies or Guides all, but some being celebrities or notables talking about their experienc/view of what they learned or women talking about certain experiences that they'd been through. It made me tear up, to be honest, one Guide had been sent to help at Belsen after it was liberated and shaed some of her memories and then later, they were talking about Trefoil school, a school run by the Guides for disabled children, who might otherwise have not been educated by the state, and how the Guides welcomed all girls, able-bodied or not. Oh, and they had a clip of Guides at Great Ormond Street. It was all presented very matter of factly, and it may be hormonal, because I don't usually blub, but I blubbed. Anyway, if you were/are one of the huge numbers who were/are involved in the Guiding movement, or just a reader like me, I'm sure you'd find it fascinating. There was no mention of guiding books, although they used clips of Guides' footage.

PERSONAL: weekend haul

2009-08-18T07:53:51Z

I got a chance to go into a proper, if tiny, second-hand bookshop over the weekend. I don’t recall whether I’ve written about thi particular shop before here or not. It’s the sort of shop where you have to be willing to devote time to searching and even literally kneel down if you’re a children’s book collector or, er, a bookish child. I had a bit of a misanthropic spell there. I’d like to say it was idiot holiday-makers who clearly only went into bookshops when they came across them unexpectedly out of the daily run, but it was people in general. It was mainly the lack of space, books are essentially in piles, three deep in one small room. I scattered some piles about three times and got stepped upon.

Still, I got all of the books that I’m going to discuss next (and more) there:

The Adventurous Rebel: Eileeen Graham. C&J Temple, 1949?.

This is a historical adventure for older girls. I am getting tired of the way early twentieth century children’s writers automatically side with the Royalists (oh those gay cavaliers!) all the time. Here, our heroine is Avril, a self-avowed butterfly with no real idea of how easy her life is, in many ways, even after her parents’ death and the fall of the home where she held court for seventeen years. For her friendship with his daughter, Roundhead Colonel Norton – a man fond of imputing the parentage of Belial to anyone who earns his disapproval – has taken her into his strict home. Bored and squashed, as well as disgusted by the disloyalty, Avril has enough and decides to run away dressed in conveniently left-behind clothes of her cousin’s.

As becomes obvious in the ensuing adventures, impetuous Avril doesn’t do planning. She wants to reach a relative’s home, has little money and is lucky to fall in with a young man who is also loyal to the king, capable with his sword, if tailed by a shady character issuing murky threats against him. Captain Tony Carne thinks ‘Kit’ is a girlish lad, they quarrel because he thinks she/he is a bit strange and she/he has a hair trigger, she/he runs away or Carne gets into fights, she/he gets tied up a lot, he rescues her. For a stretch, this is the content of several chapters. Avril seems to learn little, most of the scrapes are because of her hot-headedness and although she’s tomboy enough to get out of some scrapes, there’s a growing tendency in her to act like the silliest of romance heroines. I could live with Carne being so blind to the fact that 'Kit' is a girl, but the writer gets into needless confusion by her refusal to stick to things as Carne would see them when Avril faints or they are separated, when he’d think of Kit and use masculine pronouns. The reader ought to be trusted to understand that they were following Carne’s POV. But she complicates things to a nonsensical degree in those passages.

Unintentionally funny line: She told Aunt Lea about Celia's betrothal and listened with apparent concern to the good lady's twittering comments of surprise and delight.

I then read (an overpriced copy given the edition and its condition)

Still Glides the Stream: DE Stevenson. Fontana, 1965.Will Hastie returns to the Borders having stayed in the army after the second world war, but, now in his mid thirties, he means to settle and make a go of things at home. He grew up with the family next door, almost counting Rae his brother and Patty his sister, but Rae died in the war, leaving his parents broken and hopeless. Patty now has a fiancée, who should help her, but Will - unaccountably doesn’t like him. A telling picnic gone wrong shows Patty that she doesn’t like him that much either, but Will has gone off to investigate a mystery thrown up by an enigmatic message from Rae that arrived after news of his death. In the south of France, where Rae died, Will discovers that his friend found and married a beautiful Frenchwoman, and she bore him a son, Tom, in many ways Rae to the life again. Will eventually brings them home, where Tom heals his grandparents and Patty feels she should be happier than she is. It's all very gentle, and I liked it more than I did the last Stevenson that I read, although I was in some anxiety that Stevenson would pair off the ‘right' couple (to my mind), something she doesn’t always do.

This book loosely follows up Amberwell and Summerhills with a visit there that reminded me of people visiting Rosamund’s castle in the Abbey series. I read Amberwell when I was too young to grasp it, really. I wanted it to be more of a book about children and their big house than it was, and then it was a long time after when I read Summerhills.

The Treasure of the Trevellyans: Doris Pocock The Commonwealth Library 2 Ward lock 1959

is a perfectly fine family adventure book about the large brood of an impecunious if well regarded artist who inherits the family seat. Given what the weather is like these days, I like that Pocock does not give them a wonderful Cornish summer. It rains. A lot. The bored family come across a legendary treasure that an ancestor claimed to have hidden 'somewhere on the land'. Searching for it gives them something to do, with the twins Bundle and Bunch (a boy and girl, and I never remembered which was which because of the nicknames) going down a well and up a chimney. Going outdoors is good for Dennis, the eldest son, who has been working too hard for exams he doesn't believe he will pass, to his sister Chloe, the eldest girl and second mother's relief. Dreamy Ivor and discontented Doreen learn to direct their talents in a good direction and stowaway cousin Pomona (I waited in vain for them to give her a nickname or call her the less frightful Mona) enjoys the companionship of a large family and puts up with the privations that she never had to face in her spoiled, easy lfe before. Of course, the treasure is never found, but many other things are. As I said, it's fine, better than many other similar types of stories, but better writers would probably have been subtler with similar material.

PERSONAL: not!book shopping

2009-08-06T06:55:31Z

And so the volunteering stint is over for now. Books, which had already been on offer at a blanket price, were put on a better offer: a 'twofer' only more generous. The reason being that there were a lot of books that had been donated in the back room. So much of charity shop activity is based on the donations, which is one of those things that you know, but know better from experience. A lot of people were gleeful about their bargains. For some reason, more books seemed to sell in the afternoons.

There were no books that I wanted to buy, although there were a couple of familiar books I own and love. Is it just me, or do others get possessed of an urge to play with the displays so that their favourites are more prominnt sometimes when you're in a shop?

PERSONAL: ordering book displays

2009-08-03T18:03:04Z

I'm volunteering at a charity shop for a few days. I started today. The books were on offer because a lot had been donated. The most striking thing for me was that they were displayed according to colour. Part of me was horrified (they aren't clothes!), but at least there was some order. I've been to shops where books of all shapes and all sizes have been lumped together. It's annoying because it looks like a mess and if you're dedicated/obsessed enough to go through them all or if you're deluded by the chaos to think that there's the possibility of finding treasure, you have to go through them all with nothing to guide the eye. Usually, it's a long and frustrating process. I don't love alphabetic systems in shops however, it takes the romance out for me as a book searcher. And it makes for odd companions. I suppose my preferred method - in shops - is themed books: literary, murder mysteries, adventure, westerns, romance, children with books perhaps ordered according to size.

Let's not discuss my personal system, which is a work in process, dictated by shelving space and half my books not being to hand or unpacked. But then, I'm not trying to sell them.

TASTER: The British Girl's Annual

2009-08-01T08:26:54Z

I thought I'd mentioned beginning this, but I had it mixed up with the last annual I read, The Big Book of School Stories for Girls. The British Girl's Annual was 'compiled by the editor of Little Folks' and published by Cassell and Company Ltd in 1918.

I've been reading no more than a story a day, and actually less frequently than that, so I'm edging two thirds of the way through. I've just finished my second Violet Methley story, 'Her Wits' End', which is less noteworthy than the first of Methley's stories in the annual, 'A Daughter of the Legion'. I vaguely recall owning a book by her that features a girl who gets to know Napoleon on Elba, and the writer evidently has an attachment to la belle France, as 'Daughter' again features Napoleon and 'Wits' is set during the French Revolution. Methley's attitude towards Napoleon is weird. Well, romanticised. Her heroine is tomboyish but girlish Violette, aged around seventeen but still climbing trees, who impulsively decides to give Napoleon a posy of his favourite flowers. (Violets, of course). He's the benefactor of her school, which is for the orphaned daughters of soldiers. Touched by her gesture, he decides there and then to give her in marriage to one of his officers. Violette is revolted by the idea and deciding that as a woman, Napoleon's dictats mean nothing to her (!?) runs away from the school dressed as a boy, but comes across a plot to kill the Emperor. Horrified, she goes to tell the proper authorities and insists on joining the officer who is in charge of the investigation as an advance party for Napoleon's journey to the wedding that Violette knows will not take place. In the ensuing fracas, her gender is discovered and Violette makes the discovery that this officer is the one whom Napoleon wants her to marry, and it's all right because now that she knows him, she quite likes him! Hurrah!?

That story raised a lot of !?s from me.

That story was followed by the all right 'A Dance in the Never-Never land', an account about a social dance in the Outback, and 'The White and Green Girl' about a rather stupid girl at college - it's set in 1920 - who ends up getting over a GP for an older girl and deciding she wants to be a doctor. Except no patient would want her to be their doctor.

Then the Huns get it in 'In Mid Air' by Captain Charles Gibson and 'Luck!' by Ethel Talbot, which is another vivid mix of wartime and Guiding propoganda in which good things are ripping and bad things put you in a funk. In both stories, patriotic Brits - airmen in the first, schoolgirl Guides in the second - find German spies who are Up To No Good on British soil and foil their evil doings. 'In Mid Air' has the following exchanges to commend it:

Here Thornbury's man burst forth into another explosion. "Explain yourself!" he demanded. "Justify your most extraordinary behaviour."

"Well," said Thornbury, "if you want me to, I will. I'm not such a fool as to swallow a word of your statements. You no more belong the Anti-aircraft lot than I belong to a tribe of South Sea Islanders. And that I know for a fact. You were not signalling to the coastguard station, but to an aeroplane over the sea, and that aeroplane was not a British one. If those two reasons aren't good enough for you, I can give you a third. Though you speak English uncommonly well, I don't like your accent, my friend. It's suggestive of the beer garden; you have a kind of Unter den Linden way of pronouncing your c's. Just now you said 'conduct'--it was very nearly 'gonduct,' and that's good enough for me. If you want a fourth reason, your skill's too hard for a Britisher..."

My favourite bit is 'suggestive of the beer garden'.

REVIEW: Up a Road Slowly

2009-07-25T08:29:37Z

I've just finished reading this book, so this may not be that considered a review. I began it last night, stopped for a good night' sleep and completed it over breakfast.

Up a Road Slowly: Irene Hunt

I remember that I found out about this Newberry Award winner online, but not precisely where or in what context it was recommended. I'd certainly recommend it, it's a coming of age story, slightly in the vein of L.M. Montgomery, with good writing to savour.

I will try not to overstate the similarity with Anne of Green Gables in particular, although the naming of a special patch of the woods The Cathedral of the Four Silver Birches is an Anneish touch, if nothing is, but on her mother's death, seven year old Julie and her brother Chris are sent from the home in 'town' in which thy have alwways lived some miles outside to the country to live with their Aunt Cordelia (!) and Uncle Haskell. The latter is an irresponsible alcoholic and seen as a sufficiently bad influence that, early on, Chris is taken off to boarding school. Julie remains under the much better influence of her Aunt Cordelia, the local school mistress, who is determined on making a neat creature of her hasty niece and getting her to think of higher things. Partly because the two are similar in some regards and different in others, the impetuous child and her aunt don't always get on but Cordelia is fair and has a sense of humour. Julie gradually carries some points about her aunt's inflexibility and when her father remarries and she has a choice, she realises that her home - her haven - is with her aunt, living a quieter county life that to others at her high school seems slow. Of course, being brought up to appreciate Shakespeare, she has her Juliet moment over a boy her family disapproves of, but grows out of it.

I overuse this word, but it was a lovely read. Julie is a slightly more modern Anne (as far as I can tell, the story is set in the US in the middle of the twentieth century - although I disliked the cover of my paperback, which shows her in modern clothes). She has a strong sense of injustice, and although she has a little too much temper, pride/vanity and, as a child, far too little compassion, she takes her failings to heart. I really liked Cordelia - although there's a lot of pairing off, we neve get a resolution for her and old beau Jonathan, although I fiercly hope that, once Julie left for university, they did get quietly marry and have many happy years. Uncle Haskell, his weaknesses, charm and occasional noble moments is probably the most interesting, but not sympathetic, character. It's a charming story - the last coming of age story that I read (Y Llyffant [The Toad] by Ray Evans was a literary autobiography (?) written for adults, and although it was driven by the story of travelling the same road of growing up that Hunt uses in her title, my chief impression was that most of the boys and men the protagonist grew up amongst were sex-mad. So, this - written for girls - is a lot more wholesome. There's an universality to it, to the story of the indulged, impetuous creature being given a strictish, old-fashioned upbringing that she grows to apprecite. To return to Montogmery, fans of Anne and Emily at their least sentimental will enjoy this.

REVIEW: Peggy's Last Term

2009-07-12T16:41:45Z

Of course, I always seem to come across Ethel Talbot, Bessie Marchant and Angela Brazil books because there are so many of them I had some preconcieved ideas based on the title, Peggy's Last Term, that it would be about a prefect saying goodbye to her school and setting some young'uns right. But that wasn't the story at all. (As I've reread Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince where he gets made Quidditch Captain, which is tantamount to prefectship and enjoyes the privileges of being the one who knows it all, while Ron enjoys taking advantage of first years I didn't need to read that story anyway. And it is the sort of story you'd get in a series, not as a stand-alone.

Peggy's Last Term: Ethel Talbot. Nelson

Given that, like so many of Talbot's books, Guiding features heavily, there's a laboured joke to be made about Morse code and her over-use of dashes. But I raise this point every time I review her books. In moderation, it would be an effective way of expressing characters'$ thoughts and feelings and informal converstions, but sh overuses it, as she does the italics.

Peggy Vaughan, aged 15, is informed by her not quite sympathetic aunt that the headmistress of Roehurst does not wish for her to remain at the school after the summer term. She has broken rules and 'ragged' her way, particularly through the last two terms, despite being a Guide and the headmistress, Miss Dale, feels that her 'talks' have had no effect. She's tactfully worded it, but it's expulsion under a fancy name. Peggy's decision not to show anyone she cares; indeed, she won't let herself realise how much it matters, is tested from the train journey, when a new girl, Sylvia, at 11, young enough to warrant the title 'kid' becomes Peggy's responsibility.

And it's not the first responsibility of the term, for having decided that Peggy would do better at another school, Miss Dale, fount of all wisdom that she is, has decided to make Peggy not only head of her dormitory which contains her two chums, Becky and Nora, and Sylvia, but also patrol leader. The former PL, Beatrice, who was rather slack and let the trio be boisterous, is conveniently away for three terms. Although she takes a while to articulate it to herself, these opportunities to be responsible to Sylvia, who wants to become a Guide and hero-worships the older girl, mean a lot to Peggy. She starts to consider honour and her responsibility, and while her patrol, influenced by the second Maisie, who is jealous as she wanted Peggy's position and - of course - knows that Peggy is leaving, are obsessed with winning a newly established Patrol Cup.

However, Peggy is starting to realise that being a real and true Guide means more. This is partly Guide propoganda, but, as the book goes on, it's also patriotic propoganda, set during the first world war, which hasn't affected th girls much, except for those who have brothers fighting, until the seaside school is attacked, meaning that Peggy has a chance to be heroic, thanks to Sylvia's keenness as a Tenderfoot and Peggy encouraging her, rather than obsessing over winning one of the test for the Cup. After that unconvincing episode, it all ends well, because the school is moving to join with the very school that Peggy was to go to anyway! Hurrah!

Talbot tells rather than shows, and although Peggy's development is interesting - the trouble-maker become true leader is a well worn path, but Talbot shows the difficulties for a well-meaning girl who has always attacked things head on, planning on the hoof, to reform and stick to it. Some ripping slanginess going on, but it is Guiding propaganda in a war-time setting, with the school's development tied into the company's development.

TENNIS: Wimbledon 2009 in review

2009-07-06T07:14:39Z

I feel almost unqualified to talk about the final, as I had to leave for church at around 7-6 in the fifth, knowing it would be the last man standing (but 16-14! I don't think my nerves could have taken it, and, as everyone said, if it had been Murray, they probably couldn't). I'd pegged Federer to win, but as soon as the heavily Roger-oriented 'greaest this', 'record that' build-up began, I found I wanted Roddick to begin. Well, it may have been either that or knowing that he had to get off to a good start, and wanting that for the sake of having a good match. But he did, great saves when he was facing break points, he took the first and the second looked like it was going to a break, which we knew he was good at. And good? Oh yes, at first. I think I got a little overset and thought that the point for 6-1 would have won him the breaker, but when I realised my mistake, I was confident that he'd take his four set points. And he didn't. He flunked it, while Federer did no less than you could expect him to do. Roddick fans either groaned, or like me and was it Henman? sat in stunned silence. The third set seemed to go by fast, but credit his resilience, although he must have been dreading the upcoming tiebreaker - I know I ws. Federer showed him how to do it and I was worried that the containing game wouldn't work and Federer's brillianc might become untethered and Roddick would fold up, regretting the second set bitterly, and the face that he hadn't lost a service game. But no. I wanted him to have the double-break to serve first, but he couldn't - Federer was too good, that old refrain - and anyway, the miracle was that it was down to the fifth set. Whoever won that would be the champion (time to think of the second set tie-break later by one and the overly defensive play later by another). And their serves wee awesome, and there was to be no tie-breaker, which Roddick must have relished, but there could be no loose games, but how could they play one now, at the end, anyway, in this, the final crystalised in the fifth set. AND I HAD TO GO.

I entertaned myself during the course of the match, repeatng my 'you're not on GMTV now, castle' refrain whenhe over-expalined. "We call this lined-off piece of grass the court, but not, of course, the tramlines, because this is a singls match, where you have two mewn playing each other. Those lines - tram lines the're called - are for doubles matches, that is when wo people play. Together. There are four people on court." Also, I liked to imagine Ndal crying manly tears into the Med (he really was the unmentioned missing presence) and Murray sitting on a sofa, making acid remarks about the tactics. I think thiswas inspired by the anecdote of roddick catching the last set of last year's final and it motivating him to come back. And come back he did, more serious, more intent. Fitter, yes, with Stefanki's game-plans, but older and more focused on his chances. And, whatever else, he was part of another final that can be rightly dubbed 'epic'.

As for the Championships, I'm hopeless at this, because i can't say which was the best match I watched - I have a feeling that I only saw bits or highlights of the matches that will go down as classics: Serena and Dementieva for the women; the final, Roddick versus Hewitt, Murray versus Wawrinka, Haas versus Cilic. What I missed the most, though, was a Michael Stich commentary. Where was he? Away? On radio? He's great. I'd rather him than John Lloyd.

My favourite ladies outfit - eh - this is a stab, but I really liked the back strapping of Venus's dress, o I'll give it to her (either she wears something really tasteful or reallu outre). The only reason I put that in is parity, because I want to talk about the excellent neck-line of Djokovic's tshirt. Seriously, I covet it. (So I would have thought would the men, with the Andies twitching their t-shirts like irritated toddlrs all the time). And with that (not the roof and the weather or how it's still Henman Hill or the dissection of the women's game or the British game) I leave Sw19 - mentally - for another 50 weeks or so.

TENNIS: Wimbledon 09 last day but one

2009-07-05T07:28:16Z

I watched the tennis for most of the afternoon, but at about 75% intensity. I suppose one can't be into every match always, and perhaps I didn't care enough about the players. Yes, the Williamses are impressive and yes, their position as best of the game is ambiguous, because they don't play the tour like most other players, they focus on the grand slams etc. etc. Anyway, when Venus couldn't convert her chances in the first, mainly because Serena was serving with a strong arm (or legs, it's about the legs, apparently) and Serena outpowered her - quite comprehensively in the second. Well, it wasn't a classic, exactly. (And I was wrong.)

I half watched both the men and women's doubles finals, loving the rat-a-tat net exchanges the most. I hope Wimbledon digs its heels in and keeps the doubles matches as long a they should be nd keeps giving them the relative prestige that they get. It's also a shame that there are so few big opportunities to play mixed doubles, because professional sports are so often segregated on gender lines and here's one instance where they needn't be. Obviously, having two different tours means that it's difficult to arrange, but it's got fun dynamics.

TENNIS: Wimbledon semi finals.

2009-07-04T09:59:38Z

I came home to find out the second semi-final was only just beginning, which told me the first was a long one, and, I later discovered, a classic. So, I was treated (I don't use the word sarcastically, by the way) to Venus Williams demolishing Safina. She outclassed her with her accuracy and power, and, I think has to be the favourites to win the championship.

As for Safina and the 'oh no, a number one who hasn't won a grand slam!' and the associated 'She's a choker' claims…eh. I don't thin that this was the precise example to back it up. She deserves her spot under this ranking system, and yes, Serena and Venus and Dementieva are better players (on grass. I don't think Venus is on other surfaces), but the Williamses notoriously don't play as many matches as any of the other top players. Of course, they have in some ways been vindicated for doing so by their longevity, success and hunger. The grand slams can't seed arbitrarily - I think Wimbledon still has more leeway because of the grass court factor - but they're part of the WTA's year (and like the men's side, it is probably too heavy). Of course, it could be argued that what Wimbledon was doing was 'seeding' in terms of the scheduling, if you wanted to compare Venus's number of matches as defending champion on the showiest of the shows with Serena, Dementieva and Safina's et al. (Although it probably had more to do with the pretty teenagers and the top 3 men being favoured).

Anyway, I know the scoreline was horrific, but Safina seemed to be already thinking about what she should learn from$ the defeat in the post-match press conference. I doubt that her first grand slam will come on grass. I'm not arguing that the women's game is that strong - it isn't, but I think ther media attitudes (okay, as channelled theough John Inverdale) aren't quite on target.

Similar timing with the men's, except I came in on the last few games of the first set to diecover that it was close, Murray was tight and Roddick was playing smart. I watched him win, then got relieved when Murray grabbed the second. Indeed, when Roddick was down 0-40 in the opening game of the third, I thought 'he's better than this', because had Murray got that lead, one would have thought he wouldn't have let it go - and it was close, a handful of points and Murray could have been the one to win in four. Roddick remembered he was goo. His serve was deceptive, I was constantly surprised when they told us how high his first serve percentage was, which is further grist to y theory that the serve was the shot that was the basis to this whole match. Murray has to work on his second serve more because when he was under pressure and his first serve went, how attackable was that second serve of his. Roddick and his coch clearly had the game plan to contain him down, there are players like Gonzalez and Wawrinka with the build to be troublesome and Murray is now a target.

As Murray failed to win the third - Roddick could do worse than to play for tie-breaks in the final - and break in the fourth, I grew more despondent, realising how much I had invested in Murray, how much I'd jolly well expected him to go through and play delectable tennis with Federer. (I think Federer will win against Roddick as I think he would have against Murray, but tennis-wise, the final that isn't to be is the one we'd have savoured, although I have hopes of drama, as it is, and Stefanki is clearly bringing out the best in Roddick). But no. And yes, one can say he's 22 and learning, he's improved on last year's performance, he has the game to win a slam...but, but Nadal was out this year, he had the record against Roddick and I can rationalise, but I'm disappointed. As everyone is appropriating 'Independence Day', I actually want Federer to win for Europe, which is...what it is. [And there I though I'd manage to avoid talking about nationalism and politics!]

I also watched Jamie Murray's semi finals, which were notable for proving that he's better than no. 75 in doubles, and that Sam Smith has a crush on Daniel Nestor. I always rather like it when the female commentators (Jo Durie does it more) gt to discuss the men's looks. (WHAT?) On a more serious note, the day we've arrived is the day an all-female commentator team will cover a men's match.

TENNIS: Quarter finals

2009-07-01T21:20:39Z

I pretty much only managed to see the highlights of the QFs, and it's testament to the strengths of the respective sports, that I'm more disappointed about losing the men's matches. [I caught the last two games of Roddick v. Hewitt and then got distracted by seeing the score of the second set tiebreak, which I misread as 19, not 11]. It's turned out almost as I'd mentally called it - I said Russians and Williamses, although I was making mental space for Kusnetsov as French Open champion (and a better grass court player than Safina, who I think has the least chance of going through in the women's). And okay, when Del Potro went out, I was expecting Roddick, Murray, Federer and Djokovic to be the last 4, but I'm very pleased for Haas (his age! His story! His good looks!!) Where was Djokovic's hunger? This man had beaten him in the Halle final, he'd had a good run, but it was time for the third-highest-ranked seed to smack him down on the bigger stage and - sans Nadal - show himself back to be back in contention. (Federer would have won, but Djokovic was meant to push and tire him in prepration for Murray.) Except he didn't. He's now underlined how he's outside of the big three. I hope women's world no. 4 Dementieva is hungrier and wants to improve on her performance last year. I have a longstanding and possibly unfair by now dislike of all-Williams finals. Even when both are putting their all into it, it's not a full-blooded rivalry, and there's a point at which you know one sister is hating it. It can be a right miserable time.

And although it's an interesting theoretical excercise as to who you'd support (the former world number one or two? The man with one slam, the one with none who came back from terrible injuries? The one with the amazing serve and wit? The one who looks a bit like Ethan Hawke>) Haas and Roddick simply mustn't be allowed to get in the way of the tantalising prospect that is Murray meeting Federer. I'm edgier about Murray, although he has Roddick's number and should win, while Federer has, under cover of the local drama, without the prospect of Nadal and having shcken off the French duck is winning easily enough to offer a constant reminder of why they call him the greatest of all time.

TENNIS: Fourth round/roof

2009-06-30T06:55:53Z

I didn't watch the final set of Murray/Wawrinka, because I thought Murray could have broken in the fourth and I was tired. I was in a snit because he hadn't, though I thought he was physically stronger.

To do this chronologically, I watched the Safina versus Mauresmo match, with Mauresmo's wiles eating the young Russian in a position she herself had been in, world no. 1 without a grand slam. I have to say, I didn't see anything in her game to make me think that Safina will win Wimbledon, or certainly not this year. However, she did get things together - but although it wasn't as consistent as that, there were a lot of switches of momentum. And the roof was closed.

I don't know how much of a factor that was for Murray (his serve!!) but the All England Club and the Beeb have their agenda, so it always made sense that they'd put him on last and wanted to see him finish. The other thing was that Wawrinka was so strong, so dictating. Murray imposed himself, his physicality (and the running winners of staggering brilliance) enough to win in the second and third, but although it seemed as if Wawrinka was beaten, Murray didn't get it done in that set.

Otherwise I'm disppointed that Verdasco isn't through, I want to see Haas versus Djokovic, and, given Queens, Murray should be relieved that Ferrero is his next opponent. But the Scot must consider how being the pawn of the schedulers and television will afftect him.

REVIEW: Red Herrings Unlimited

2009-06-28T15:19:30Z

To break up the blanket Wimbledon talk, here's a review of a book I read last week.

Red Herrings Unlimited: Winifred Norling
I'm too lazy to check the publishers, and I suspect no date was given).

Most of the Winifred Norling books, if not all, that I've read have been school stories of a certain ype. This is a mystery that a gang of village children solve, led by a girl named Lyntie, who came together to solve a previous mystery. All I could find out from Google was that Winifred Norling was a pseudonym of Winifred Mary Jakobsson (1905-1979).

I don’t love to read a series midway, but sometimes these things happen. The Octocats have a bit of the Lone Piners about them, and a bit of Blyton’s bands of child detectives and adventurers too, although at some points I wondered how much the writer’s tongue was jammed in her cheek. All the chapter headings are the sort of proverb that sounds as if it’s been translated from another language, that is, you can understand the metaphor, but it doesn’t sound right. They’re lifted from sayings used in the chapter by various characters.

There’s a cast of dozens, but one heroine, who everybody is supposed to love – except me. Lyntie is a schoolgirl, and although we’re never told her age, it’s suggested that she’s starting to grow up and think of her future and feel a distance from the younger members of her gang, who came together to solve a mystery in the previous book that I haven’t read (called The Allerdyce Adventure). The fact that she lives life to the full is highlighted and part of the reason is that she and her elder sister used to live in a small cottage with very little means until their great uncle, Sir Bernard, a retired judge, found them and adopted them to all intents and purposes. Everyone thinks she’s marvellous, she bosses them around cheerily, which is the closest that Norling comes to giving her a fault, but she’s always right, and she wants to be a writer.

Lyntie is home from boarding school for the Christmas holidays, a Colonial long-lost nephew has come to take over the neighbouring manor and a heap of suspicious characters seem to have turned up in the area. Well, strangers in the countryside (it’s set in Sussex) aren’t going to go unnoticed, and the Octocats (it sounds like something from anime, doesn’t it?) scent a mystery. Eventually, enough happens to make the older members feel they should tip the police off to some of what they’ve discovered, and when Vanessa, Lyntie’s older sister, is kidnapped after interrupting a burglary they’re glad they did, although it’s childhood explorations, a parrot, the Octocats' loyalty and the local character who save the day.

The plot is decent, though I wouldn’t say the red herrings are as numerous as the title promises. There’s a bit of undirected romantic tension going on, partly because all these young men seem to really like and admire schoolgirl Lyntie, although her age is unspecified. Besides, although she likes them all back, her chum is Desmond. Some of these young men are very chivalrous towards Vanessa her sister – and if there is a further sequel, I really would expect resolution of the romance that develops for her, but it’s Vanessa’s friend Valerie who ends up being the blushing bride. And yet, it’s definitely a children’s book, but with the shadow of growing up, things changing and people moving apart, despite the comedy parrot and the penchant for giving nearly everyone a nickname. Still, one almost wishes it wasn’t a children’s book and that Norling was writing overtly to adults because there wouldn’t be so much bewildering subtext.

There’s more than the usual racism – Charles, who’s come over from Australia, refers to someone he’s sure is decent as a ‘white man’ (among other unPC sayings that you’re likely to find in early to mid twentieth century storiebooks) and snobbery. For all that the servants’ grandchildren and offspring and farm hands in training are Octocats, Lyntie is always Miss Lyntie to them and Desmond always Mr Desmond. It's not just because they're the eldest that their word is law. Possibly my favourite member of the Octocats as a reader was August, who nearly always thinks with his stomach, and comes out with 'Wizard Bangs’ for anything that pleases him. Bless. Overall, the book's not as funny as it thinks it is.

TENNIS: Wimbledon end of week one

2009-06-28T11:50:26Z

It's nice to have a day off as a viewer, although it's weird not to have the tennis on. But the coverage has somewhat blurred into one mass of 'That was worth a challenge!', 'Don't hit it there', the commentators praising an aspect of someone's game and them immediately the player making an error, talented teenagers who are on Centre Court instead of established favourites, but they're pretty (still, perhaps they are the future). And then Murray played a tight masterclass. I think the crowd were disappointed - I know the other player was frustrated - but I thought the ruthlessness and level of Murray's play was very promising. I'm tending to think that we'll see the top seeds through at the end in both the men and women's championships (Roddick is the fourth highest man left, isn't he?) But we'll see. Still, the prospect of Federer versus Murray meeting in the final and playing the kind of tennis they have been playing is very juicy. It doesn't have all the heft of the Nadal/Federer rivalry, but think of the shots!