Books: Don't Ask By Donald E. Westlake (1993)

“Dortmunder has a job offer. He's been hired by third parties to pull off heists in the past, but never to lay his hands on anything this peculiar. Frankly, it's a bone. Not just any bone. A femur. Well, not just any femur, either. A femur which, 800 years ago, was part of a 16-year-old girl who, having been killed and eaten by her own family, was made a saint by the Church. The femur, her only relic, is all that's left. Now two small eastern European countries - Tsergovia and Votskojek - are fighting like dogs over...well, the bone. There's only room for one of them in the United Nations General Assembly, and the choice is in the hands of a powerful Catholic prelate. The country that tosses him the bone is sure to be in like Flynn. Dortmunder's first reaction to the Tsergovian ambassador's offer is to ask for more front money. His second is to round up his gang - light-fingered Kelp, master driver Murch, and man-mountain Tiny Bulcher - and case the Votskojekian mission, a former tramp steamer parked in the East River. The current repository of the bone, it will be the target of a heist carried out by land and sea, with the team displaying the finesse and split-second timing for which they're famous. It should only be that easy. Before the gang can say "Saint Ferghana's knee," they've got a major fiasco on their hands, one that will reach from the snow-capped mountains of Votskojek to a billionaire's art-crammed estate in New Hampshire. But it will show, once and for all, that when it comes to getting revenge, Dortmunder can cut to the bone."

For the most part, Donald E. Westlake’s eighth Dortmunder tale, Don't Ask, works. Its premise is somewhat the same as The Hot Rock, with some sacred object being disputed between two countries, and where Dortmunder (and his trusty gang) are hired by one country to steal it from the other. This time the two countries are Slavic, and the object (which again is in New York) is a saint's relic, a holy bone. Once again, the object must be stolen several times, lost each time for reasons reminiscent of those seen in The Hot Rock. Even though it is somewhat of a retread, Westlake is able to bring some freshness to the characters and change up the formulaic nature of the series. He also finally gives John Dortmunder some due as strategist, with our thief coming up with a clever and thoroughly brilliant revenge on the people who kidnapped him –becoming, in the end, less of a sad sack. It also seems –along with Good Behavior and Drowned Hopes- that Westlake began to pad the stories, making them longer than the earlier tales. Whether this was his choice or his publishers (higher page counts translate into higher profit), Don’t Ask feels like it went on longer than it should. What I liked about the earlier books was they were lean and thus felt more exciting, more outrageous and absurd because everything had to come together so swiftly.

It’s still a witty book, with some great prose and stupid people who think they’re smarter than everyone else.That, of course, makes John Dortmunder's job much easier.

Book: The Philosopher's Flight by Tom Miller (2018)

"Eighteen-year-old Robert Weekes is a practitioner of empirical philosophy—an arcane, female-dominated branch of science used to summon the wind, shape clouds of smoke, heal the injured, and even fly. Though he dreams of fighting in the Great War as the first male in the elite US Sigilry Corps Rescue and Evacuation Service—a team of flying medics—Robert is resigned to mixing batches of philosophical chemicals and keeping the books for the family business in rural Montana, where his mother, a former soldier and vigilante, aids the locals. When a deadly accident puts his philosophical abilities to the test, Robert rises to the occasion and wins a scholarship to study at Radcliffe College, an all-women’s school. At Radcliffe, Robert hones his skills and strives to win the respect of his classmates, a host of formidable, unruly women" 

Tom Miller’s genre-bending The Philosopher’s Flight is well written, but falls short for me in a few ways. Many writers of fantasy and science fiction, in hopes of finding a broader audience, have taken real-life historical settings and added some sort fantastical element to them. This gives the reader a chance to read this genre, but because it’s set in the real world, or alternative history version of it, non-fantasy readers can enjoy them because they can identify with the setting. Harry Turtledove has made a career out doing this.

In this world, witches or wizards are philosophers and all the best ones are female. In spite of their amazing prowess in military campaigns, philosophers are feared. Trenchers, a sort of evangelical set comprised largely of men who fear and despise these powerful women, continually oppose and threaten the philosophers in ways both physical and legal. The harrowing opening passages evoke lynchings and the witch trials, while throughout the book we see Trenchers attack these women for everything from their use of birth control to their refusal to bow to the patriarchy.

Set during World War I, the story follows a rare male philosopher, Robert Weekes, as he is taken on as a contingency student at Radcliffe College, one of only a few token men training with women. Most of the men are merely theoretical philosophers, but Robert, or Boober, as his Montana family lovingly calls him, is an empirical philosopher, raised to fly. Encouraged and cajoled into his skills by his mother and older sisters, he is a truly unusual man and not just because he's an expert sigilist.

Some obvious social commentary runs through this first book in a series, giving us the experience of role reversal, with a sole male prodigy among women who encounters derision, discrimination, and abuse that was usually heaped on women entering largely male educational settings during this era.

I will say the book is not that complex, which made the book somewhat easy to read. Still, nothing seems to happen in all of it’s 400 pages. It’s like Harry Potter without the threat of Voldemort. The book is so focused on world building, so focused on teaching Robert to fly, that the threat from the Trenchers is never truly explored –they become lost in Miller’s attempt to point out how bad women have had for years.

For fans of steampunk (yeah, that’s here as well), they might find the devices used to make the Philosophers fly cool, but book is way too long, and way too anti-climatic to be worth continuing on to book two.

 

Books: Doctor Who: At Childhood's End by Sophie Aldred (2020)

"Once, a girl called Ace traveled the universe with the Doctor – until, in the wake of a terrible tragedy they parted company. Now, decades on, she is known as Dorothy McShane, the reclusive millionaire philanthropist who heads the global organization A Charitable Earth. But Dorothy is being haunted by terrible nightmares in which she’s abducted to an alien world. Nightmares that begin just as scores of young runaways are vanishing from the dark alleyways of London. Could the disappearances be linked to sightings of sinister creatures – part man, part rat – lurking in the city shadows? Why has an alien satellite entered a secret orbit around the Moon? And how has Dorothy become a target for the victors in an interstellar war? Investigating the satellite with Ryan, Graham and Yaz, the Doctor is thrown together with Ace once more. Together they must unravel a malevolent plot that will cost of thousands of lives. But can the Doctor atone for her past incarnation’s behavior – and how much must Ace sacrifice to win victory not only for herself, but for the Earth?"

The fate of companions that leave the TARDIS after many adventures is always open for fans to interpret. The classic series generally left the fate of those characters up in the air, mostly never mentioning what happened to them (beyond the ones that have died, obviously) after they stopped traveling with the Doctor. Still, some companions left impressions and fans over the years have written stories and novels that dealt with the aftermath of their departures. During the franchises “wilderness” years –between the 1989 end of the TOS and 2005 reboot- many original novels were released that revisited some of them. And while Sarah Jane Smith became one the most well-known characters to get a life after she left the Doctor, one of most popular later ones of the 1980s was left behind.

The character of Ace has been cited as the first "modern" companion for the Doctor, one a lot of working-class viewers could actually identify with for the first time. Ace suffered traumatic events in her childhood, including a bad relationship with her mother Audrey. Adding on to that, she witnessed a racially motivated firebombing of her friend Manisha's flat when she was 13. Needing to lash out, she burned down a local abandoned Victorian house named Gabriel Chase after sensing the presence of evil and was put on probation. Consequently, Ace covered up her own fears and insecurities with a streetwise, tough exterior. So Ace was written to be more realistic, more three-dimensional and to grow as a person throughout her run on the show and Sophie Aldred’s performance help elevate the character even more. It was also clear that Russell T Davies based a lot of Rose’s personality on Ace, which is probably why the modern series succeeded so well.

Now thirty-years later, the fate of Ace is finally resolved (or one version of it, as these novels are not considered “canon”) as actress Sophie Aldred (in collaboration with Steve Cole & Mike Tucker) gives us At Childhood’s End. Before the series was canceled at the end of 1989 after twenty-six seasons, work had already begun on season twenty-seven. One of the stories planned was going to be Ace’s swan song, a serial called Ice Time, which would’ve resolved Ace’s arc and the Doctor’s manipulation of her. For the Marc Platt script would’ve seen the Doctor enrolled her in the Academy on Gallifrey to become a Time Lord. In this novel, Ace’s departure from the Doctor was much darker.

The book is okay, starts off great and gives a lot of fan-wanking nods to Doctor Who past, but I found the whole rivalry between Yaz and Ace a missed opportunity. I find it fairly out of character of both Ace and Yaz having issues with each other –it falls into the silly trope of because Ace is a woman, Yaz has to be jealous and thus compete for the Doctor’s attention (I didn’t like it School Reunion as well). One of the other reasons Ace (and Sophie Aldred) worked so well was her chemistry with the Seventh Doctor (Sylvester McCoy). While script editor Andrew Cartmel, along with writers Marc Platt and Ban Aaronvitch, tried to make the Doctor more alien towards the end of his TV run, the two still had this workable chemistry -but the interaction with Ace and 13^th Doctor is lacking here. There is too much awkwardness (some fans have been critical of Jodie Whittaker’s less than warm feelings) and unlike other companion reunions, Ace and the Doctor barely seem to know each other –so that’s disappointing.

But for long time Doctor Who fans, especially the ones who adored Ace, At Childhood’s End is fine, quick read.

Books: Elementary, My Dear Groucho By Ron Goulart (1999)

"When a body is found in Holmes's 221B Baker Street lodgings on the set at Mammoth Studios during the shooting of The Valley of Fear, Groucho Marx and his sidekick Frank Denby begin investigating. The victim is the German emigre director of the movie who was found in the great detective's favorite armchair, shot in the chest. There is another murder (though it looks like an accident) but it takes more than murder to stifle Groucho's quips or to quiet the laughter this surprising reincarnation inspires."

While Elementary, My Dear Groucho continues Ron Goulart’s alternate universe where Groucho Marx is not only a movie star (though waning), but an armature detective and is a good third book in the series, the plot was lacking something –it was fairly easy to know whodunit. There is some zaniness, though this volume tempers that a bit from the previous two. And Goulart does add a bit of realism to the story, with Frank, Jane, and Groucho also dealing with some homegrown Nazis, and their anti-Semitism, but this aspect is only slightly touched upon. Still, Goulart did do his research and the whole underbelly of Nazi’s in Hollywood in 1938 (just after the release of Room Service, a Marx Brothers film that underperformed) is fairly interesting. Also, Goulart continues his love affair with the time period, mixing real-life actors, locations, and movie-making seamlessly with his fictional characters.

Much like the two previous entries, Elementary, My Dear Groucho, is a breezy read, with delightful smart-ass cracking people. There are also moments of pathos, but it’s still a delightful, if not laugh out loud, mystery.

Books: The Liquidator By John Gardner (1964)

"In Paris in 1944 Tank Corps Sergeant Boysie Oakes kills two Germans attempting to assassinate an Intelligence Corps officer named Mostyn. Twenty years later Mostyn's memories have transformed Oakes (who is in reality cowardly and hedonistic) into a fearless master assassin though nothing could be further from the truth. Mostyn recruits Oakes into the Secret Service where after a training course he is given an enviable lifestyle. Oakes' function is to "liquidate" security risks for the State. Oakes hires a mild mannered professional assassin to do his dirty work for him. Going for a "dirty weekend" leads to Boysie being captured by enemy agents who involve him in an assassination plot."

Long before John Gardner was picked to by the Ian Fleming Estate to pen James Bond novels, The Liquidator was his debut novel and is a sort-of-parody of the spy genre that exploded in the early 1960s thanks to James Bond. It’s a fairly light read and -good or bad- a nostalgic trip back to the sixties era, but the novel takes way too long to get going. The early part was filled with the sexualisation of women and name dropping of expensive brands, with people living the high life, but once the thriller part gets going it was mildly exciting. As noted, the book is a reminder of era when a lot of things where black and white, where everyone smoked, where you could travel on an airplane with a gun in your pocket. It’s an effective parody, but it's no Get Smart!