The Comforters by Muriel Spark (1957)

“Caroline Rose is plagued by the tapping of typewriter keys and the strange, detached narration of her every thought and action. Caroline has an unusual problem - she realizes she is in a novel. Her fellow characters also seem Laurence, her former lover, finds diamonds in a loaf of bread - has his elderly grandmother hidden them there? And Baron Stock, her bookseller friend, believes he is on the trail of England's leading Satanist.” 

I will grant you, based on my many previous books that I’ve read, this is very different from my usual reading material, but thoroughly enjoyable. It’s an interesting first novel from Sparks (see below) but she writes with a deft hand and The Comforters abound with sly, witty humor that British are still famous for. And it’s fun to see Caroline recognizing that everything happening is just a bit too weird and so she begins to suspect that they are all characters in a book, and that she, somehow, is hearing the author at work. A lot of its charm is that Sparks blends a bunch of genres in what amounts a social comedy. Something rare in books released in the time period. 

So, yes, as one character notes towards the end (in a meta-fiction way, long before the word was coined) maybe the book is “straight old-fashioned story, no modern mystifications. End with the death of the villain and the marriage of the heroine", but the book is an often funny and fascinating look into fate and the untold. 

The Comforters was Muriel Spark’s first novel, though she is mainly remembered for her 1961 novel The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, which was adapted into a Tony Award winning play in 1968 and the successful film adaptation in 1969 that scored the late Dame Maggie Smith an Oscar for Best Actress. 

She drew on experiences as a recent convert to Catholicism and having suffered hallucinations due to using Dexedrine, an amphetamine then available over the counter for dieting. The idea for the plot came to Spark after a serious mental breakdown, during which she believed that there were secret word game style codes in the poems of TS Eliot. She became so convinced by this that she would spend night after night encoding. She finally became better as a result of improved nutrition (she had been chronically malnourished) and a rest cure funded by a number of writers, including Graham Greene. TS Eliot was also moved to write her a letter, reassuring her that there were no such codes in his work.

Books: The Elementals by Michael McDowell (1981)

“On a split of land cut off by the Gulf, three Victorian summer houses stand against the encroaching sand. Two of the houses at Beldame are still used. The third house, filling with sand, is empty...except for the vicious horror which is shaping nightmares from the nothingness that hangs in the dank, fetid air. The McCrays and Savages, two fine Mobile families allied by marriage, have been coming to Beldame for years. This summer, with a terrible funeral behind them and a messy divorce coming up, even Luker McCray and little India down from New York are looking forward to being alone at Beldame. But they won't be alone. For something there, something they don't like to think about, is thinking about them...and about all the ways to make them die.” 

The oppressive heat of the Beldame and the creepy houses –especially that third one being consumed by sand- that exists on a small strip of land that turns into an island during high tide is the setting for this Southern Gothic tale from a nearly forgotten writer. As I mentioned in my reviews of his lighter fiction (the Jack and Susan series), McDowell was a prolific writer in the 1980s, releasing a number of horror tales that came and went (most likely due to the fact that this era was full of them) and none were ever adapted. Yet beyond his helping bring the original Beetlejuice and A Nightmare Before Christmas to the screen, and having a life cut short due to AIDS, his work in the horror genre rises above the usual template of the time period. Here, in The Elementals, we get tale that takes some the rudiments of the haunted house genre and unrolls a story that, while slow at times, none the less builds to an exciting conclusion. 

In Michael Rowe’s Introduction, he spills some secrets about two the characters that now make sense after I’ve finished book. Not sure if it’s actually a spoiler, but I’m glad I did not read that part for starting the book. But what I’ve read of McDowell, I’m sort of glad I’m finding his fiction now (and thanks to the small imprint Valancourt Books, because it’s possible these works would’ve vanished forever without them), as an adult because I can get a fuller understanding of what he was doing here. 

I’ve gotten other books by him now to read (some horror, some detective fiction, some parodies of Sidney Sheldon), and will probably get more over the coming months. He’s hard to find used, and what is out there is expensive, but I think he’s worth it. I mean, in his short 49 years, he wrote multiple books in multiple genres and presented them each in a unique and original way.

The Elementals is worthy to seek out.

 

Books: Never the Twain By Kirk Mitchell (1987)

“It was all very simple well…well, sort of. All Howard Hart had to do was to go back in time and make sure that Mark Twain‘s literary career fizzled out. Why because Howard is the last living descendant of an obscure novelist Brett Harte and he’s convinced that with just a little help, Harte, and not Twain, will become wealthy and respected, and that would leave Howard heir to a literary immortality. But along the way Howard encounter some problems: the Civil War, the Gold Rush, and a ravishing young lady of pleasure - to name a few. And suddenly time traveling, just isn’t what it used to be, and neither is history.” 

As someone who enjoys time travel stories, I found Never the Twain to a good entry in this sub-genre of science fiction. I think it does require a working knowledge of Mark Twain and Brett Harte. I did a bit of dive on him, because I was curious if he was real. Francis Brett Harte (1836-1902) was editor and poet, but also an active journalist in California, serving as the first editor of Overland Monthly from 1868 to 1871. “…his most familiar story being "The Luck of Roaring Camp" (August 1868 Overland Monthly), a tale with supernatural implications: an infant named Thomas Luck seems to bring luck and moral improvement to Roaring Camp, until his death, which is immediately followed by a deadly flash flood. With other tales set in California, it was assembled as “The Luck of Roaring Camp and Other Sketches” (coll 1870). His first volume of Parodies, Condensed Novels, and Other Papers (coll 1867), contains spoofs of supernatural fictions by Charles Dickens and Edward Bulwer Lytton, plus one of Charles Reade (1814-1884), "Handsome Is as Handsome Does", an sf tale involving Inventions and Harte's first work of genre interest. The Queen of the Pirate Isle (1886 chap) is a children's tale involving quasi-fantastic events Underground. Harte remained prolific until his death, producing the occasional ghost story (often rationalized), though most of his later stories were Westerns. 

Anyways, back to the book. I’m not so sure what I was expecting here, though I assumed a lot of humor would be prominent. And to some extent, there is comedy here, but more superficial. Writer Mitchell seems more interested in the human detail of the old west (written long before Back to the Future III and for some reason was always in the back of my mind). So the plot is definitely not predictable, but you get the sense almost from the start that it would turn out well for Howard. 

Still, like all time travel stories, there are leaps of logic, mostly the idea that descendant could go mucking about in the past with not only his own ancestors but also those of his present day ex-wife (this were BTTF III came through). It’s science fiction, and some logic has to be flexible, but sometimes these plot holes cannot be filled with saying “it’s time travel, why worry?”

Mitchell, however, appeared to have done his research, as his descriptions of life in Nevada at the beginning of the Civil War are well done and evoke a real sense of being there. Not a great tale, but still sort of fun.

Books: Down Cemetery Road (The Oxford Investigation #1) by Mick Herron (2003)

“When a house explodes in a quiet Oxford suburb and a young girl disappears in the aftermath, Sarah Tucker—a young married woman, an art conservationist, who is bored and unhappy with domestic life—becomes obsessed with finding her. Accustomed to dull chores in a childless household and hosting her husband’s wearisome business clients for dinner, Sarah suddenly finds herself questioning everything she thought she knew, as her investigation reveals that people long believed dead are still among the living, while the living are fast joining the dead. What begins in a peaceful neighborhood reaches its climax on a remote, unwelcoming Scottish island as the search puts Sarah in league with a man who finds himself being hunted down by murderous official forces.” 

This Herron debut novel and works most of the way. It’s still standout piece of Robert Ludlum style thriller, but the book sort of comes to a grinding halt in towards the end of the second act before picking up again in the last quarter. So it’s not as good as his Slough House series, so it’s more of promise of what will come in later years. Still, it’s filled with Herron’s snarky, black humor, and a lot of people die, including some people that appeared important to the the narrative (though the identity of one killer was a surprise to me). 

This was the first in four novels in the Oxford Investigation series featuring Zoe Boehm –who really is a secondary character here. I wondered often while reading if Herron did not know how to end the book properly –the many meandering thoughts and too much sidetracking helped me feed into this thought- and went back a gave her a reason to suddenly pop up in the last half of the book. I liked Sarah, but I found some of her actions a bit unbelievable. But that’s what these novels do best. 

Not sure I’ll read any more of Herron's Oxford Investigations books (never say never), but there still at three more standalone thrillers I may partake.

Books: Three Bags Full By Leonie Swann (2005)

“Something is not right with George the shepherd. His sheep have gathered around him outside the cozy Irish village of Glennkill to assess the situation. George has cared for the sheep, reading them books every night, and now he lies pinned to the ground with a spade. His flock, far savvier about the workings of the human mind than your average sheep, sets out to find George’s killer, led by Miss Maple, the smartest sheep in Glennkill (and possibly the world). Her team of investigators includes Othello, who was rescued from the Dublin Zoo; Mopple the Whale, who is always hungry and remembers everything; and Zora, an existential ewe—just to name a few. Together, the sheep discuss the crime late into the night, and their speculations vary wildly. Determined to unravel the mystery, they embark on furtive missions into the village, where they encounter a hoof-full of two-legged suspects. There’s Ham, the terrifying butcher who smells of death; Rebecca, the secretive village newcomer; and Father Will, a sinister priest the sheep call God.” 

An odd book indeed is Three Bags Full. It’s a murder mystery told through the perspective of sheep, lead by (perhaps the smartest sheep ever), Miss Maple and her other fellow sheep, Othello, Mopple the Whale, Zora, Maude, and the elusive Melmoth. 

Brought up on a plethora of Disney films (and Bugs Bunny cartoons), the idea of a flock of anthropomorphic sheep trying to solve a murder does not require too much a suspension of belief. Sure, they seem smarter than most, but it’s still a delight to see them puzzle they through human motivations, emotions, and fear to try and solve George’s death. Part of the charm, as well, is that George used to read all sorts of books to his sheep, so they kinda of grasp the human animal in ways that help them along. 

It’s a slow-burn tale, often funny and stirring. The only issue I have with the book is how the clues are laid out, as the author (via translator Athena Bell, from the original German) makes it difficult to piece the translation from human to sheep and back again. Much of it does not add up and I found myself frustrated by the lack of clues I could put together and identify the killer (and that it turns out disappointing in the end). 

In the end, it works, because the sheep are pretty funny and book is often philosophical with sheep trying to interpret human motivations. The author wrote a sequel in 2010, and British made adaptation of this book is due in May 2026.

Books: The Ax By Donald E. Westlake (1997)

“Burke Devore (who I kept thinking as Burke Devlin, a character the late Mitchell Ryan played on DARK SHADOWS) is a middle-aged manager at a paper company when the downsizing ax falls, and he is laid off. Sadly, he finds himself in the same place many of us have- the unemployment line. Eighteen months later and still unemployed, he comes across a posting that he knows should be his new job. An intelligent man, he comes up with a new spin on his job search. But there are seven men who might take that job away. And so with agonizing care, Devore looks for the seven men in his surrounding area who could take the job that he rightfully believes should be his, and begins his own twisted take on corporate downsizing.”

 

The Ax is a great, psychological observational novel about a man who transforms himself from an everyday middle manager and into a ruthless murderer. Even Burke is surprised he can do what he does, finding new skills he never knew he had. But even he, at some points throughout the book, thinks they come far too easily.

 

Despite being released nearly twenty-nine years ago, the plot still works today. It’s has an all too plausible scenario - but one that would mostly not work in 21^st Century of home security and door cameras. Still, Burke clearly has a twisted way of examining his situation and justifying his way out of it (his coda seems to be the ends justify the means). However, there are certain moments were the reader can side with him, especially on the social commentary aspect of big business and its relentless drive for profit and dividend payments, even at the cost of its customers, as well as its staff. Additionally, I enjoyed the part where Burke muses on the upcoming millennium and what might lay in the future, circa 1997.  

 

But even the craziest person can make a good point and Burke actually makes plenty of worthy arguments in this dark journey, which also highlights Westlake's remarkable talent as genre writer. Because on one hand, he produced so many great humorous caper novels, along with those fourteen Dortmunder titles, then on the other, produce these hard-boiled character crime/suspense thriller (under his own name, as well) like The Ax.

 

Ultimately, while less a satire, it does contain some of Westlake’s dark humor. But once again, it’s the razor sharp take on a real life issues that makes this novel prescient in 1997 and in 2026.