We Look At Books

Books Do Furnish A Room
Apparently that is a title from a novel, part of Anthony Master's "A Dance To The Music Of Time", which I have little inclination to read even if it did get good reviews.  It is also a plain fact, and if you disagree THEN THE EXIT DOOR IS THAT WAY!
     Ahem.  Okay, yesteryon I received a book in the post, which I had ordered.  They don't just turn up at random, you know.  Art?

     Listy - as I like to call him - has an interesting blog that he publishes, and I have referred to him on several occasions.  He's working on another book at the moment, which I won't detail here in case someone selfishly tries to pip him at the post.
     I did my usual skim of that above, which consists of flicking through and inspecting the photographs, and it does what it says on the title.  The "Cambridge Camal"?  The "Motley Rocket Gun"?  The "Garrett Tank"?  Never heard of any of them.
     And now back to Sergeant "Val Allerton", whom you may know better as the anonymous "Zeno", a chap who wrote and had published a very realistic novel about Arnhem ("THe Cauldron").  Realistic because he'd been there and took over the running of his platoon when the lieutenant nominally in charge broke down.  He was commissioned as an officer later in the war.  Art?

Looking the part!

     Then, in 1953, he stabbed a man to death.  Apparently the victim was abusing one of Val's ex-mistresses, and the police had strong suspicions he was responsible for various sex crimes.  Having done the deed, Allerton walked into the nearest police station and gave himself up.  He pleaded guilty in court and was quite prepared to be hung; however, the death penalty was abolished whilst the trial was underway and instead he went to prison.
     That's where he wrote TC, and a couple of other works.  He was a model prisoner, which led to his release after only 9 years.  And ever since the publication of TC, people had been trying to track down who he was.
     One thing was for sure: he was NOT Val Allerton.
     Confused?  Well you'll just have to put up with it, as I'm stopping there for today*.

The Motley Rocket Gun schematic

     Whilst still on the subject of books and authors, colleague Lee at work is the first person I've ever met who's ever mentioned "The Inklings", that group of Oxford scholars that included C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, which came about because Shazad explained "Aslan" in Turkish meant "Lion".

You see?  You see how everything is connected**?

     Oh, in case you were wondering, I have finished "Vanilla Ride" and there were two more shoot-outs, except the second one doesn't go anywhere near where you expected it to go, in a surprising kind of way.
     Now, motley, in one unmarked box I have the collected works of Shakespeare, and in the other the complete set of "Invincible" and you have to toss the coin and read, heads for the left, tails for the right.

"We Have Ways Of Making You Talk"
Yes, a quick visit to those rascals James (Holland) and Al (Murray).  James came out with some bad news about the author Philip Kerr, who apparently died last year.  I did not realise.  This means no more "Bernie Gunther" novels, which both James and I are sad about.  Art?

A rather hangdog Phil

     You're going to ask about Bernie, aren't you?  The novels are written from the perspective of one Bernie Gunther, an ex-soldier who becomes a detective in the Berlin Police after the First Unpleasantness, and who subsequently is shanghaied into the SS.  The novels are set between the wars under the doomed Weimar Republic, then the Second Unpleasantness itself, and into the Cold War.  If you had come up with an idea to please Conrad, this would have been one near the top of the list.
     I have also checked up on "First Light" by Geoffrey Wellum, and I do recall the latter part of it, where Ol' Geoff is part of a flight of 8 Spitfires that are due to fly off an aircraft carrier in order to reinforce Malta.

Malta - where Val Allerton ended up.
(You see?  You see how everything is linked?**)

     This was horribly dangerous duty, as the Axis inexorably sent planes and submarines and torpedo boats to bomb and torpedo such convoys, and I remember Ol' Geoff remarking with horror when the attacks began and a ship blew up.
     On an aside note, those Spitfires were absolutely crucial to the defence of Malta.  As soon as they arrived, the odds against the island abruptly shifted favourably, because they could outperform any Axis fighter of the time, and did so.  I refer you to James Holland's book about Malta, "Fortress Malta".  Art?

My edition
(Also - you see?  You see - hang on, is that poultice Mister Hand annotating my work?)

I Feel Your Pain
Conrad noticed a sidebar item on that font of all that's fit to be writ, the BBC website, and it tickled my Angry Gland.  Art?

We are Stoke-on-Trent: 'Buses are so bad, going out is pointless'

     (Will that count towards my word total? - let me check - yes, good, let's carry on).  Conrad read a familiar tale of bus services being cut and cut again, and then, just to continue the theme, cut some more.  The quote above comes from someone who said the last night bus from the nearby town of Leek had gone from being 22:30 to 19:30, and that there was no point in going, since you'd have to come back as soon as you'd arrived.  Art?

One of the culprits

     I see by the livery that First are one of the "Service providers" - note the deliberate use of quotation marks there - which immediately explains a lot of things.  These bumbletucks loudly and proudly claim that 90% of their services run on time, which is SCANT COMFORT INDEED to anyone relying on the other 10%.
     Some of these people are going to pay once I take over, O Yes Indeed!

     And with that, we are done, as I need some quiet time to allow my blood pressure to fall.



*  Heh!
**  This is slightly more modest than braying "See how clever I am!" <the horrid truth courtesy Mister Hand>