'The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn' by Mark Twain

As promised, I'm following up my reflections about Tom Sawyer with fresh ones about Huckleberry Finn. I knew it's generally regarded to be the superior book and looked forward to putting it to the test. 

MY THOUGHTS:

Whoa, I can see why this is regarded as one of the best anti-racial American classics ever written. What an unforgettable epiphany. 

This book immediately differs from The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Huckleberry Finn tells his story first person, which gives it an intimate touch that suits the soul-searching tussles awaiting him. Reading every line in Huck's unique vernacular really unites us with this boy. His keen intellect is hampered in expression by his lack of education, yet he still finds an eloquent way. 

At the conclusion of his friend Tom's story, we left our hero chafing under his own generous reward, which seems to him more like a stroke of misfortune. The Widow Douglas, grateful that young Huck saved her from the evil plans of Injun Joe, has resolved to adopt and 'sivilise' him. But her strict and nitpicky sister, Miss Watson, moves in and hijacks Operation Reform. It's all too much cultural overload for poor Huck. What's more, his sole source of respect in the eyes of other boys, his freedom, has been snatched away. 

Meanwhile, Huck contends with a dangerous obstacle that privileged boys like Tom wouldn't dream of; his drunken, abusive father. Mr Finn's redeeming qualities have been drowned in grog, if they ever existed to start with. Instead of feeling grateful and amazed that his son has been offered an opportunity for education, accommodation and stability with no strings attached, he burns with bitter resentment and makes it his goal to pull the plug on it. 'Pap' Finn is, perhaps, one of literature's biggest losers. And he really wants to get his grubby hands on Huck's proceeds of the treasure that was shared between him and Tom. 

Feeling like the meat in an incredibly explosive sandwich, it's no wonder poor Huck decides his only recourse is to fake his own death and run away. Bumping into Miss Watson's escaped slave, Jim, on Jackson's Island, is a happy accident. The pair of driven fugitives decide to team up and travel via the Mississippi River up north where Jim will be free and Huck will be unknown. 

Along the way, our boy realises that he bears an inbuilt moral code. Early on he professes never to see any personal benefit to the widow's concept of praying for the spiritual gifts, since all the generosity and thoughtfulness will flow to others rather than himself. So he stops praying. Yet whenever it comes to the crunch, Huck chooses empathy and compassion as his pilot light every time. This puts him in some gnarly ethical dilemmas, especially regarding his responsibility to Jim. 

A lifetime of social conditioning has convinced Huck that his sensitive and humane conscience is, in fact, immoral! He thinks that by following his compassionate instinct to help Jim escape, he's bringing down heavenly retribution on his own head. He even contemplates turning Jim in as the 'right' thing to do. 

 Shocking as it is for me to read how a boy can consider for one moment the corrupt lie that some human beings have the right to own others, in Huckleberry Finn's own mind he's committing grand larceny. Huck is projecting onto God the slave-owning mentality of the southern states before emancipation, which is all he's ever known. It's a huge hurdle for one lonely, poorly-educated 13-year-old to question the philosophy and theology that has always hummed around him. 

To him, it seems more logical to judge himself as corrupt and wicked for wanting to help, than to transfer that label to his formative social structure, including the stream of pastors, teachers, care-takers and Sunday school superintendents who have poked their noses into his life. It takes a rare individual to do as Huckleberry Finn does, and stick to his own sound moral compass, even when he believes it may be leading him off course and straight to hell. 

'Alright then, I'll go to hell,' may be the most profound line in the book. It's pure genius of Mark Twain, to have his southern boy-hero come to embrace a staunch abolitionist way of thinking off his own bat. 

This fascinating introspection is embedded in high adventure and run-ins with several other colourful characters. Jim himself has as many superstitious taboos as the biblical Pharisees had crazy laws, but runs rings around Huck's own father when it comes to a providing a loving presence in the boy's life. The antics of the 'Duke' and the 'King'; a pair of shameless conmen who latch onto our two travel companions, puts Huck's peace loving nature at odds with his need to take action. And although she's featured in just one chapter, I love the wisdom of Mrs Judith Loftus, the lady who calls Huck's bluff when he thinks he's assumed an excellent disguise. 

Finally, I can't sign off without griping about the Tom Sawyer factor. Whenever Tom steps into the picture, he's incredibly bossy and obnoxious. This kid's delusions of grandeur surely dwarf Mount Everest. He insists on acting out his fantasies, knowing full well his acquiescent friend Huck will eventually cave in to his outrageous demands. 

I was finally willing to overlook how Tom played on Aunt Polly's grief in the last book so he could walk in on his own funeral, but now he's gone too far. Tom is up to another heartless stunt for his own glory, with absolutely no scruples for the feelings of the anxious people he is stringing along. I don't know about other readers, but it frustrates me to see Jim humble himself to kowtow to such bizarre and childish behavior, and to see the quick-thinking and resourceful Huck revert back to his default role as this show-off's loyal sidekick. 

Bottom line now I've read both books - when it comes to Mark Twain's famous boy duo, much as I love the truly contemplative and heroic Huck, I kept wishing someone would deliver Tom a good punch in the face. 

(I'm getting psychological now, but I can't help thinking Tom gets envious when he hears all about Huck's real adventures, and feels the need to compensate by making himself ringleader of the most dramatic pretend ones he can invent, which just happens to involve manipulating other people and toying with Jim's life.) Anyway, the bromance which I thought so healthy in the first book has sadly taken a toxic turn, especially now we see Tom sweep Huck along for a cruel ride along with everyone else. 

Notwithstanding the Tom factor, I love this book. Huck is a humble and gentle soul, and also a survivor whose unfolding character arc is a masterpiece. I would never tire of reading his heartfelt and evocative descriptions of life along the river, and enjoying more of the 150-year-old sunrises we get to sample within these pages. 

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟      

'The Adventures of Tom Sawyer' by Mark Twain

I discovered both books comprising Mark Twain's most famous duo in different free street libraries within a short period of time. I've taken that as a sign that it's high time to read them. I say that as a tribute to Mark Twain. It didn't take long to see that his characters themselves are HUGE believers in signs and superstitions within the pages of these novels. Interestingly, it turns out that his birth coincided with the appearance of Halley's Comet, as did his death with its next appearance. And Twain himself predicted that would be the case. 'It will be the greatest disappointment of my life if I do not go out with Halley's Comet. The Almighty has said, no doubt, "Now here are these two unaccountable freaks; they came in together, they must go out together."' Call it coincidence or self-fulfilling prophecy, I'm sure he would have been pleased.

I'm starting with Tom Sawyer and will finish up with Huckleberry Finn soon. 

MY THOUGHTS:

 I finally read this famous antebellum classic about the mischievous Tom who's such a handful for his long-suffering Aunt Polly. Mark Twain considered it his homage to childhood days and he sure wasn't kidding. At first I was a little apprehensive it would be all beetle races, Robin Hood re-enactments, incantations to recover lost marbles, and cheating to win Sunday school prizes - but then it got interesting and I was hooked. For me, the drawcard begins when Tom and his mate, Huckleberry Finn, witness a grisly grave robbery and brutal murder in a cemetery at midnight, followed by the framing of an innocent man, putting the boys in a fearful moral dilemma.

But that's enough flirting with plot points. I want to focus mostly on character traits. Oh Tom, Tom! He could be called a lovable larrikin, a shrewd businessman (shown by the iconic opening incident with the white picket fence) or an unconscionable, callous little arse! All three are accurate depending on a reader's own starting point. Speaking from a mother's perspective, he crosses a line for me into the third description. The stunt he pulls on poor Aunt Polly, Mrs Harper, and everyone else deserves far more retribution than he ever receives. (It was quite a stunt though, I grant you that!)

Tom's abundant energy and confidence makes him a natural leader, but he uses his imagination to borrow from and cruise by on the genius of others. Tom draws heavily on hackneyed stereotypes he gleans from the stories he loves, and weaves them into play activities for his own gang, who don't have such a broad knowledge base of yarns and legends. So I consider this book to be a tribute to the power and influence wielded by writers and storytellers, as much as it is an ode to childhood. Done well, their stories contain power to shape and inform their culture by hijacking people's enthusiasm, and Mark Twain himself participates in the wonderful ripple effect with this very book.    

I tend to think Tom's dynamic combo is an overbearing personality coupled with a vast knowledge and respect for great stories. It gives him an irresistible 'power' persona that covers over many rough edges. And if those are smoothed when he grows up a bit, he probably has a bright future. 

But to me, Huckleberry Finn, the town's 'juvenile pariah' provides much of the book's charm. He's the neglected son of a raging alcoholic, hence in the adults' eyes, no fit companion for civilised kids. Although Huck wears cast-off adult clothes, a bit like Dickens' Artful Dodger, he doesn't carry the style off with quite the same panache. There is a certain wistfulness surrounding Huck, who's aware that he's regarded as untouchable by most adults. Yet at the same time, he appreciates being envied by other boys for his freedom from responsibilities such as school and church attendance. 

Tom is by far the most gung-ho, cocky member of their friendship group. Huck is his follower, and more cautious and thoughtful in his approach. While Tom revels in being the centre of attention, Huck shuns the spotlight. But he has a courageous core, enabling him to put up with being unwelcome wherever he shows his face. Far from being a bad influence on Tom, it tends to be more the other way around. (Not that I'd go so far as to call Tom a bad influence on Huck, since poor Huck is in need of a true friend.) 

Tom's youthful romance gets a fair airing. Becky Thatcher is first presented as 'a lovely little blue-eyed creature with yellow hair plaited in two long tails, white summer frock and embroidered pantalettes.' But far from being as sweet as she appears, Becky is a manipulative little miss, adept at using her feminine wiles for unworthy purposes. Mark Twain appears to have infiltrated the calculating and sometimes tortured headspaces of pre-teen girls, and his accuracy impresses me. The ups and downs of Tom and Becky's relationship indicates precisely why 11 or 12-year-olds shouldn't indulge in love affairs. But perhaps the pair of them deserve to end up with each other in the long run, take that how you will :)     

Just because Tom Sawyer himself is heedless and thoughtless doesn't mean we readers have to be. I find the story urges us to ponder the true meaning of success, which may be more modest than we think. Muff Potter, the hopeless drunk, is by all accounts a 'no-account.' Yet his small kindnesses over the years to Tom and Huck may end up saving his life. The boys might not have been as willing to risk their safety to defend someone more like the harsh and exacting school master, Mr Dobbins, who has achieved a far more 'successful' position in worldly terms. (Not that Dobbins would ever find himself in Muff's position, but you know what I mean.)

The book is well worth reading, but we may need to suspend our disbelief. It's not just any old evocation of a southern, small-town world, but one in which the following may happen.

1) Random treasure chests, chock full of coin, may be buried anywhere, so you might as well dig around with your pick and shovel. Your chances of becoming filthy rich are as good as anybody's. 

2) Search parties tend to be a bit lame, which you can use to your advantage.

3) Superstitious rituals are generally reliable. When your expectations don't come to fruition, it's probably because witches have interfered.

4) The same two boys may accidentally eavesdrop on the vile plans of the most degenerate wretch they know, not merely once but three or four times. Either together or separately. 

I'm right into the goings-on at St Petersburg on the Mississippi now. Bring on The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. I'm anticipating that Huck, as the main protagonist, will bring a more reflective slant to these rollicking adventures, which may contrast nicely with this book's focus on the impulsive, surface-skimming Tom. 

🌟🌟🌟🌟

'The House on the Strand' by Daphne du Maurier

Dick Young is lent a house in Cornwall by his friend Professor Magnus Lane. During his stay he agrees to serve as a guinea pig for a new drug that Magnus has discovered in his scientific research.

When Dick samples Magnus's potion, he finds himself doing the impossible: traveling through time while staying in place, thrown all the way back into Medieval Cornwall. The concoction wear off after several hours, but its effects are intoxicating and Dick cannot resist his newfound powers. As his journeys increase, Dick begins to resent the days he must spend in the modern world, longing ever more fervently to get back into his world of centuries before, and the home of the beautiful Lady Isolda...

MY THOUGHTS:  

This is one of du Maurier's Cornish tales with a timeslip theme thrown in. It was published the year of my birth, so I was curious to see how the 'modern' thread had aged.

Dick Young, the main character, is staying at Kilmarth, the boyhood home of his friend, biophysicist Magnus Lane. (With a name like Magnus, I reckon his parents destined him to become a ground-breaking, experimental scientist. Doesn't it seem perfect for the stereotype?) As part of the deal, Magnus coerces Dick into sampling the wonder-drug he's been working on, which spirals its users back centuries, yet always on their own local turf.

Dick consistently ends up in the fourteenth century, and always touches base with a mysterious guy named Roger, prompting Dick to wonder whether Roger's brain is the random link to the mind of any time-tripper. Nobody from the 1300s, including Roger, ever seems to see futuristic visitors. Dick verifies Magnus' experience, that every sense, except for touch, is heightened whenever they visit the past. However, only their brains are really taking the trips. Their physical bodies are still lumbering blindly about in their contemporary world (1969), vulnerable to sudden peril such as collisions.

Dick keeps trying to convince himself that he's not addicted to his trips, but can't help admitting he is addicted to his infatuation with the beautiful Lady Isolda Carminowe, who keeps him returning for another 'fix' of her. 

My googling tells me Dame Daphne got really excited about this story, considering it to be one of her finest. She intended for readers to be sucked into the implicit questions she was raising. Was Dick really progressing back in time, or was it some elaborate mental hallucination? Is the concept of time, rather than being a linear projection, 'all-dimensional' with past, present and future spinning like a wheel simultaneously? All Dick can say for sure is that the people he enjoys spying on have been dead for over 600 years, yet they're alive in his escape world. Sounds like a recipe for a page-turner, right?

Sadly, it fell flat for me. Neither of the two time periods held my interest. The political intrigue and family saga of Roger and Isolda's world felt like wading through quicksand. There are far too many family connections to keep track of and too much standing around talking. As for Dick, he lives up to his name too well. Each of his unfolding personal disclosures made me eyeroll more. 

He flicks his cigarette butts around the countryside, he hasn't visited his mother in over a year because he's too lazy, he's getting tired of his wife, Vita, after just a few years of marriage, and prefers his 'trips' to stalk the more attractive Isolda. He professes to have not a flicker of interest in his two young stepsons, who incidentally strike me as nicer people than he is. He gets grouchy and irritable with everyone in his real world. He resents Vita for her concern regarding him, which turns out to be completely justified. I kept finding the pages of Dick's narration progressively harder to turn. 

All this story really has going for it is du Maurier's hallmark description of Cornwall. Sadly, Cornwall alone is insufficient to maintain my interest in a story with a crawling plot and unlikeable characters. The premise sounded great... but it fell short. Sorry Dame Daphne, it's a no from me.

🌟🌟  

'Yellowface' by Rebecca F. Kuang

Athena Liu is a literary darling and June Hayward is literally nobody.

White lies
When Athena dies in a freak accident, June steals her unpublished manuscript and publishes it as her own under the ambiguous name Juniper Song.

Dark humour
But as evidence threatens June’s stolen success, she will discover exactly how far she will go to keep what she thinks she deserves.

Deadly consequences…
What happens next is entirely everyone else’s fault.

MY THOUGHTS: 

I was delighted to discover this novel in a little free street library, and cancelled the hold I had on it at the library. It's all over book platforms at the moment, so I prioritised it on my reading pile.  

June Hayward is a jaded, obscure young writer out for the evening with her brilliantly successful friend, Athena Liu, who has had several award-winning bestsellers with major publishers. When Athena dies suddenly after a freak accident, June snatches the chance to steal a freshly completed manuscript from Athena's desk. It's the first draft of a World War One novel entitled, 'The Last Front,' which focuses on the heroic efforts of the Chinese Labour Corps which were largely unacknowledged at the time. 

After making some sneaky alterations, June gets a contract under her own name with a prestigious publisher. Throughout the rest of this story she adroitly dodges discovery while enjoying the lifestyle of a famous author and justifying to her innermost self why her action wasn't despicable plagiarism. There are also pesky accusations of cultural appropriation to fend off, not to mention pressure to produce her next blockbuster. Will the truth lie dormant forever? 

To maintain the new lifestyle she's craved for so long, June becomes a progressively worse human being, which she deems vitally necessary to avoid regression or discovery. Everything about her is false, calculating, opportunistic and manipulative, including her version of how close a friend she really was to Athena Liu. Yet disturbingly, June's insistence that duplicity is the price she must pay to remain a media darling rings true. Being unknown and forgotten, after a taste of the spotlight, is her greatest dread. It makes me wonder how many big name authors and other celebs behave through a filter of, 'How will this make me look?' 

Kuang reveals plenty about the book industry which may surprise the uninitiated. She presents a world in which there is a finite number of book contracts with competition rife, like seagulls swooping on chips; where one minority author's success may create barriers for others writing in the same genre, rather than the green lights we may expect. Crowds of consumers (in this case, readers) assume a macro-personality far more daunting and impersonal than those of the individuals who comprise it. Ms. or Mr. Public Opinion isn't necessarily a giant whose approbation we can seek without being tarnished, yet so many of us seek it anyway, in our own small ways. And tsunamis of social media passion are toxic. Think cancel culture.

I relate to a lot of the reading and writing culture described in this story, having written and made huge efforts to market my own published novels for years. Yet there are surely several others like June's mother and sister, who simply read the occasional novel to relax without giving the actual industry a thought. This makes me wonder how Yellowface itself has become such a bestseller, since not everyone is trying to peddle their own books. I guess the theme about exposing fraud and the tense thriller elements must carry weight. 

Overall, I'd never add this book to a list of my best reads of the year. I think it makes me read in a mean-spirited way, eager to find out how (and even if) the unscrupulous main character will be exposed. That's not as satisfying as following admirable, lovable heroes we long to cheer for all through. I prefer books to bring out the best in my own nature rather than the worst. More nobility and less schadenfreude, thanks. 

Still, I think I'd have to call myself a fan of Yellowface, especially after all the thought-provoking content. 

🌟🌟🌟🌟

'Demon Copperhead' by Barbara Kingsolver

Many generations ago, Charles Dickens wrote David Copperfield from his experience as a survivor of institutional poverty and its damages to children in his society. Those problems have yet to be solved in ours. Dickens is not a prerequisite for readers of this novel, but he provided its inspiration. In transposing a Victorian epic novel to the contemporary American South, Barbara Kingsolver enlists Dickens' anger and compassion, and above all, his faith in the transformative powers of a good story. Demon Copperhead speaks for a new generation of lost boys, and all those born into beautiful, cursed places they can't imagine leaving behind.

MY THOUGHTS: 

Whoa, this is a knock-off in a million. No wonder it won the Pulitzer and Women's Fiction prizes for 2023. I was simply curious to see how closely it could stick to the David Copperfield story in such a vastly different time and place, but I didn't expect such evocative writing packed into practically every sentence.  

As most of us are aware from the start, it's the story of David Copperfield juxtaposed onto a modern, Appalachian society. Kingsolver expresses her deep concern about the plight of the deplorable foster care system and the opioid crisis strictly within the boundaries of Dickens' famous classic. Modern retellings of classics often strike me as way too overstrained, but this one is written in a way that convinces me this Victorian saga could well have taken place in the 21st century inland USA. It weaves all the counterpart characters in so brilliantly and naturally, it's a joy to spot them all. 

Damon Fields, aka Demon Copperhead himself, narrates his own story, starting from the moment he was born to an 18-year-old junkie mother in a humble trailer, intact in his amniotic sac. Sound familiar? His engaging voice, full of sharp discernment and poignant, often dark humour, never falters throughout almost 550 pages. Demon is a budding comic strip artist whose latent genius gives him a knack for capturing anyone's idiosyncratic essence in both words and pictures. If you think the character of Davy Copperfield would take big shoes to fill, I promise you this boy aces it. 

Supporting roles are triumphs too. There's Demon's abusive stepfather, Stoner; and the exploitative and harsh foster father, Crickson, nicknamed 'Creaky' by the boys under his care. Here Demon meets the dangerously magnetic Fast Forward, who could make anyone want to do anything and be glad of it; and the good-natured Tommy Waddles, who sketches skeletons as a sort of memento mori gesture, to remind himself that this too will pass. Demon is later fostered with the perpetually desperate and broke McCobb family. These guys have to exercise their creativity just to pay their bills. 

We have Miss Betsy Woodall (estranged grandmother this time) and her clever, disabled brother, Mr Dick, whose tributes to his beloved authors is to cover kites with their quotes and then launch them into the sky. Miss Angus Winfield is an edgy, nerdy version of David's Agnes, and his ill-fated relationship with poor, helpless Dori takes on a whole new level - you'll see. And lurking lethally with his reptilian eyes gleaming is the slimy Ryan Pyles, or U-Haul, who keeps insisting that he's nobody special.  

Demon actually has what some might call the total package; good looks, witty personality, empathy, intelligence, athleticism and artistic giftedness to boot. The fact that he considers himself an abject failure and nonentity highlights the gaping limitations of his culture and poor start in life more than anything could. ('It dawned on me that I could get run over flat out there, and nobody would know or care what to call the carcass. Road kill?) 

From the point of view of a reader already familiar with David Copperfield, it's a winner. And I've noticed that several reviewers who have never read the classic have now added it to their TBR lists, on the strength of this story. I've challenged my kids to read David Copperfield followed by Demon Copperhead, because the effect is bound to impress them. I would always recommend that nobody who has ever read either should start with Dickens followed by Kingsolver.

Demon's take on Charles Dickens is worth mentioning. 'A seriously old guy, dead and a foreigner, but did he get the picture on kids and orphans getting screwed over and nobody giving a rat's ass. You'd think he was from around here.' Well, to take a broad view, Demon, since David Copperfield is regarded as Dickens' most autobiographical novel, and you're modeled on the character of David, then you are that old guy.  

This is one of my reading highlights of the year. And my photo is a tribute to Demon's lifelong yearning to visit the beach for real. 

(Here is my review of David Copperfield)

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 

'Evil Under the Sun' by Agatha Christie

The beautiful bronzed body of Arlena Stuart lay facedown on the beach. But strangely, there was no sun and she was not sunbathing... she had been strangled.

Ever since Arlena's arrival the air had been thick with sexual tension. Each of the guests had a motive to kill her. But Hercule Poirot suspects that this apparent 'crime of passion' conceals something much more evil.

MY THOUGHTS: 

Hercule Poirot is staying at the Jolly Roger Hotel on Smuggler's Island, a popular summer beach resort on Britain's southern coast. Some sunbakers remark that nothing bad could possibly happen at such an idyllic destination, yet our little Belgian detective knows that there is 'evil everywhere under the sun.' 

One of his fellow guests, Mrs Arlena Marshall (nee Stuart), has the reputation of a femme fatale. She seduces men and breaks up families, reputedly relishing every moment. Fellows are bewitched by her and women fiercely resent her. So when Arlena is found strangled to death in a secluded cove, several other sun seekers may well have a motive.

There are two lovers' triangles. Dressmaker Rosamund Darnley has adored Arlena's husband Ken since their childhood, but Ken takes his marriage vows seriously. Poor, pale-faced Christine Redfern is upset that her hunky hubby Patrick keeps following Arlene around like a dog on heat. Fanatical clergyman, Stephen Lane, likens Arlena to Jezebel or the Whore of Babylon. And Ken Marshall's moody teenage daughter, Linda, simply loathes her stepmother. 

I have to say, what we readers see of Arlena in the pages never strikes me as pure evil, which the characters would have us believe. In fact, I find it unbalanced that she's the target of all the fall-out from illicit liaisons, and never the silly men who are led by their libidos rather than their brains. Here is what we are told about the reactions of a group of older men, when she simply walks past. 

'The eyes of Hercule Poirot opened, his moustache quivered appreciatively. Major Barry sat up and his protuberant eyes bulged even further with excitement; on Poirot's left the Reverend Stephen Lane drew in his breath with a little hiss and his figure stiffened.'

Yeah, eyeroll. How do we even know for sure the lady is playing on her beauty, as people accuse her, since she always elicits this behaviour for doing nothing at all? 

Incidentally, Poirot states his belief that modern women's bathing costumes leave nothing to the imagination. 'What appeal is there, to remove all the romance and mystery?' (This novel was published in 1940.) 

Reverend Lane is disturbed because he's noticed  it's fashionable for many people to abolish hellfire and Satan from their collective consciousness, yet he's certain demonic entities are still gleefully doing secret mischief. Hmm, not sure if he was talking for his author, Agatha Christie, but plenty of theologians, such as C. S. Lewis, would agree with him. 

Mrs Gardener, the American tourist, says, 'Those girls that lie out that in the sun will grow hair on their legs and arms.' I'll assume that's Mrs Gardener's personal delusion and not indicative of the era in general. 

This is not the best Christie mystery I've read, but nor is it the worst. One thing in its favour is that there was only one death, and not the flurry of spin-off murders Christie sometimes sets off. Apart from Poirot, of course, I didn't really bond with any of the characters. In fact, poor Arlena Marshall was as likeable as anyone else. The baddies' motive didn't totally ring true for me, yet it's easy enough to believe they're also motivated by the adrenaline rush of escaping detection. 

So good on you Poirot, for foiling their plan.

🌟🌟🌟½  

'The Ghost of Thomas Kempe' by Penelope Lively

When James and his family move to an ancient cottage in Oxfordshire, odd things start happening. Doors crash open, and strange signs appear, written in an archaic hand. James finds that the ghost is the spirit of Thomas Kempe.

MY THOUGHTS: 

When I found this novel in a secondhand shop, it was a blast from my past. I read it during Primary School silent reading sessions in the early 80s. What great nostalgia, to re-read prize-winning British kids' fiction published in 1973, which had its 50th birthday this year. 

The Harrison family has bought East End Cottage, a charming, ramshackle old doer-upper. But since they've moved in, somebody keeps pulling annoying stunts and writing weird messages. Young James is getting blamed for all of them, because he's a bit left-of-centre himself. 

Poor James is resentful and baffled. He knows the culprit couldn't possibly be a member of his own family. His wry, sensible father and slightly frazzled mother wouldn't bother, and nor would his smug sister Helen, who has a deficient sense of humour anyway. What's more, Tim, the scruffy stray dog who's adopted them, keeps barking and snapping at nothing. 

Soon it's clear that the arrogant perpetrator desires to be known by James. He's an opinionated poltergeist named Thomas Kempe, who lived there in the sixteenth century practicing sorcery. Kempe insists that James becomes his assistant, whether he likes it or not. And since Kempe's behaviour includes persecuting other villagers whom he suspects of witchcraft or knavery, James must think of a way to end it fast. He soon discovers there are no exorcists listed in the Yellow Pages.  

The story is so fun to read because James is such a cool and curious 20th century kid. His own quirky 'To Do' list is based completely on inquisitiveness without a trace of ego. This boy knows the fun of indulging in grandiose daydreams without a hint of angst that they might never come true, because he never truly takes them seriously. 

It's full of insights about human nature, both past and present. When James' father summarily dismisses the supernatural, James realises that commonsense is as impenetrable as a stone wall. 'If people had to be so unswerving in their beliefs, the only thing you could do is let them go on their own way.' In fact, Mr Harrison and Thomas Kempe's ghost are quite similar, in their closeminded approaches. 

I love it when James comes across a boy named Arnold, a kindred spirit his own age, but separated by a century. James discovers that reading all about Arnold creates a sort of oddly reciprocal friendship through the pages. And even though Arnold is (or rather was) on James' wavelength, James' school friend Simon is nonetheless satisfactory for other moments. We need all sorts of friends, including both soul mates and time mates. 

All the time impressions are very cool. James learns that people develop their own layers, like onions, added to by the passing years. Senior citizens, such as his neighbour Mrs Verity, are often most multi-layered. The point comes through that young people are still buried deep within their older selves.

The final line is worth quoting for its insight into the passage of years.  

Time reached away before and ahead: back to the crusading knight, and Thomas Kempe, and Aunt Fanny, and Arnold: forward to other people who would leave their names in this place, look with different eyes on the same streets, rooftops, trees. And somewhere in the middle there was James, walking home for tea, his head full of confused but agreeable thoughts, hungry and a little tired, but content. 

Yep, we all take our part for a short time, then shuffle off the set.  

🌟🌟🌟🌟½