'The Hollow' by Agatha Christie

Summary: Lady Angkatell, intrigued by the criminal mind, has invited Hercule Poirot to her estate for a weekend house party. The Belgian detective's arrival at the Hollow is met with an elaborate tableau staged for his amusement: a doctor lies in a puddle of red paint, his timid wife stands over his body with a gun while the other guests look suitably shocked. But this is no charade. The paint is blood and the corpse real!

MY THOUGHTS:

The murder scene beside the swimming pool appears so corny and elaborately staged, that at first Hercule Poirot assumes it's a welcome tableau in his honor, for his hosts know he's a detective. But the victim, Dr John Christow, is indeed dying. And John's slow-witted wife, Gerda, stands over him wielding a revolver. It would seem she's the victim of somebody's set-up.

At the outset of the long weekend, Lady Lucy Angkatell had been anxious lest their guests at the Hollow might clash. It turns out her fears were horribly justified. Lady Angkatell and Gerda Christow themselves are polar opposites, since Lucy's fertile mind skims quickly, while Gerda processes things slowly and deliberately. 

Alas, nobody planned for three women who all adore John to be thrown together in one spot, and I'm no fan of any of them. Not the pathetic, slavishly devoted Gerda, whose name reminds me of indigestion. Nor the well-loved, diplomatic sculptor, Henrietta Sabernake, who treats Gerda with nauseating condescension all the while she's having an affair with John. (Christie has attempted to portray Henrietta as one of the more 'likeable' characters, and Poirot claims she has integrity, but I beg to differ! Anyone who bonks someone else's husband while behaving in the guise of her friend has serious moral blind spots.) And certainly not the overbearing Hollywood actress, Veronica Cray, a neighbor who shows up longing to resume her own relationship with John that ended fifteen years earlier. 

But perhaps John has brought his fate upon himself, to some extent. He's a self-focused narcissist, same as Veronica, despite his valiant efforts to find a cure for (the fictional) Ridgeway disease. 

Other relatives help thicken the plot. There's gentle, self-effacing Edward Angkatell; young David, a grouchy Uni student; and their cousin Midge, a working class girl whose exigent lifestyle the others can't understand.  

It's not a bad Christie mystery, but not a stand-out for me, perhaps because I found too many characters irritating. Although I didn't anticipate the revelation of the murderer, it came as no real surprise. Yet having said that, I find it a stretch to believe that this person either would or could commit the crime. 

Lady Angkatell's character is amusing. She's refreshingly eccentric, making very specific random guesses about people based purely on their appearances, which often turn out to be uncannily accurate. Her husband, Sir Henry, has learned not to brush off her weird insights. 

Overall, this is not close to being a favorite, but I'm glad I've ticked another one off. 

🌟🌟🌟

'Lillipilly Hill' by Eleanor Spence

(Note: Although this is not a lilly pilly flower, I still liked the image too much when I took it not to use.) 

Here's my January selection for my 2025 Aussie Book Challenge.  I've chosen it for my Nature in the Title category. Even though she's spelt it as one word, Eleanor Spence makes it clear within the story that the titular homestead is named after the lilly pilly tree. It's a great story to kick off the challenge with. If you're interested, there is an Amazon kindle version and it's available on Kindle Unlimited.

MY THOUGHTS:

It's the late nineteenth century. The Wilmot family has just moved from England to live at an Australian homestead, Lillipilly Hill, which their father has inherited from his uncle. But their mother can't imagine how they'll manage to maintain the civilised lifestyle they're used to, or provide educations with a British tick of approval. The studious daydreamer, Aidan, and dainty, nervous Rose-Ann don't seem to fit their new environment either. Only Harriet longs to support their father in his new, radical farming venture. 

Yet they've never imagined anything quite like it. She finds it a huge challenge to reconcile the others to dusty tracks, prickly blackberry bushes, piercing sunlight, shrill rosellas, leathery goannas, and pesky mosquitos. There is also the ever-present threat of snakes, not to mention a lurking fear of bunyips and bushrangers. And they simply can't wrap their heads around the notion of a platypus. 

Harriet's efforts to help Aidan fit in are particularly thorny. She's anxious for her brother to be happy for her own sake rather than his. Her ulterior motive is funny. Since he's the eldest, and the only son, she senses that in their parents' eyes, his opinions may carry more klout. Yet her good intentions tend to backfire. 

Reading between the lines, there's an Aussie persona already in place, and those who don't have it are regarded as oddities and relegated to the outskirts of all the action. It's a social sort of natural selection. Harriet is lucky enough to be adaptable. Aidan and Rose-Ann can't help feeling like failures, or that they must apologise and feel sheepish for their personalities. It is good to see Aidan especially come to realise that there is more than one form of courage. 

The landscape itself helps shape people's characters, since they have adventures which would be impossible in other settings. And it's described very appealingly. How could Aidan, Rose-Ann, and even Mother not come to love great things such as kookaburra laughter, sheer views, and billy-tea? 

My only quibble is that some of the chapter titles are a bit plot-spoilerish. 

It leaves me wanting more. I'm curious to know what becomes of all these characters, who are on the cusp of young adulthood. That, after all, is the sign of a good book. I must look up more of the works of Eleanor Spence, even though they sadly won't be about the Wilmot family.

🌟🌟🌟🌟

Scaling Back for 2025

I hope I can discipline myself to stick to this New Year's Resolution, but I've decided that throughout 2025, I'll make no new book purchases. Even though I usually stick to bargain or secondhand books and spend sparingly, every tiny $2-5 purchase adds up. Stopping this source of spending may also help me plumb to the bottom of the piles of unread secondhand books I already own, many of which I've undoubtedly forgotten about. 

The sources may be as follows:

1) From my towering piles.

2) From my enormous kindle back-up

2) Borrowed from the library.

3) Borrowed from friends or family.

4) Gleaned from Little Free Libraries

5) Free e-book loans from sites such as Internet Archive or Project Gutenburg.

It means I'll have to keep out of secondhand book sheds, but that'll be a matter of willpower. Harder still will be steering clear of the book sections in general secondhand shops, since they are in full sight. 

 This time last year I commented in my New Year's blog post that I'd have another crack at delivering weekly, book themed blog posts for the sixth year running. (Before that I used to write them even more frequently.) I managed to deliver on that goal yet again throughout 2024. For 2025, I almost decided to cut right back, but instead I'll see how I go again. As a token of continuation, I've just opened two new pages, this time on fan fiction and time travel stories. And I've also created my own Aussie monthly book challenge.

There are several reasons why I've persevered with weekly posts for so long. Above all, I consider it to be a fun mental and spiritual discipline; a framework on which to hang the rest of my days. I haven't always been the best at following through on commitments, so this helps me adopt the motto that when we're faithful in small things, we'll be faithful in larger ones. I also bought into the idea, bandied about by some writers, that when we show up without fail, our muses are impressed and honor the appointment. And added to that, the statistics in my toolbar function as a sort of almanac. I enjoy looking at them to gauge how much of the year I've blogged through, and how much still looms ahead of me. 

I'll also be prioritising my fanfic. I get the most personal buzz, adrenaline rushes, and dopamine surges from the fiction writing I've finally taken up again, after many years.

I'll still be on Bookstagram, although maybe not as frequently as before. 

Please do subscribe to my feed in my toolbar, to keep up with my posts. 

And Happy New Year!   

'Time and Again' by Jack Finney

Summary: One of the most beloved tales of our time!

Science fiction, mystery, a passionate love story, and a detailed history of Old New York blend together in Jack Finney's spellbinding story of a young man enlisted in a secret government experiment.

MY THOUGHTS:

The Goodreads summary call this 'one of the most beloved tales of our time,' and my back cover blurb says, 'this illustrated novel quickly became a cult favourite.' Such high praise seems a bit overdrawn to me, but it is quite a fun read. And it was published in the year 1970, when I was a tiny baby. This is also when the 'modern' starting point of the tale takes place, which is quite interesting.  

Si Morley (short for Simon) is a 28-year-old artist who gets a rare invitation, based on his army records, to join a secret government project. He's told that he has an even rarer blend of skills and qualities that might tick their boxes. When Si discovers that the secret mission involves the possibility of time travel, he's quick to opt in.

The methodology involves a mixture of intense immersion in time capsules of a former era, along with self hypnosis training. The premise is based on some Einstein-backed theories that time, rather than being an arrow-straight, linear projection, is more like an ever-spinning ferris-wheel in the cosmos, which the initiated can learn to board and disembark at will. (That's how I'd interpret it based on my reading of this novel.)

When he realizes he possesses the knack, Si elects to visit his own home base, New York City, in 1882. His girlfriend, Kate, is the custodian of a mystery from her stepfather, whose own father, wealthy and respected financier, Andrew Carmody, received a cryptic letter that resulted in 'the burning by fire of the whole world...,' and the repercussions caused his death. Si is appointed to get to the bottom of it, if he can. Who sent the letter at the specific time it was franked, and why? 

Of course Si gets in deeper than he ever imagines, first becoming a tenant at a guesthouse, then eavesdropping on a blackmail plot, and finally getting embroiled in a huge, city disaster. In some ways, it's quite a conventional time travel tale. Si develops an intense personal interest in changing the trajectory of time, since he'd hate to see Julia, the girl he's falling for, marry the unscrupulous crook, Jake Pickering. 

The head honchos of the project back in 1970 (or I guess I should say forward!) are carefully monitoring the effects caused by their time travelers, since of course going back in time and interfering with unfolding events could prove catastrophic. They counsel their men to abide by what they consider the 'twig in the river' theory. A small twig flicked into a raging torrent shouldn't effect the flow one iota, provided they tiptoe carefully. 

Si's reasoning for ignoring all this and plunging in willy nilly is quite interesting. For doesn't Julia count as much as any person from his own era? Just because she was born way back in their past, why sacrifice her well-being over any number of faceless folk who hadn't been born while she lived? Standing back to be a spectator is more than his conscience can take. (The fact that she's a hot chick who he's in love with has a lot to do with his high-minded stance about this, but he conveniently overlooks that.)   

I have a problem with the idea that Si would so quickly and easily turn his back on the good thing he has going with Kate. Just because Julia is a figure from the past doesn't negate infidelity. It's hardly different from going overseas and becoming besotted with another girl there. So I can't talk myself out of thinking that Si is a rat. 

But Jack Finney has a fun way of telling his tale. He's collected all sorts of historical, illustrated documents to weave throughout the pages, presenting the artwork and photos as Si's own. He draws from history, using a devastating fire to build his plot around, and even slips in his own time traveler, Si, as a real anonymous gentleman rescuer featured in the newspaper. And the savage, corrupt police chief Thomas Byrnes is drawn from history too. 

At first it seemed Finney was going totally flat out for a romanticized view of the past. Si remarks that faces from 1882 appear way more animated and purposeful than those of 1970. 'They moved through their lives in unquestioned certainty that there was a reason for being and that's something worth having. Losing it is to lose something vital.' But he balances it by revealing the miserable desperation of the general populace, especially through the eyes of one poor streetcar driver.

Warning: some chapters are incredibly long! The crazy eventful chapter 19 alone could've been split into several. No wonder chapter 20 starts with, 'I slept late next morning.' I'd consider this book a must-read for anyone at all familiar with New York City (which I'm definitely not). You can follow the characters' progress street by street.  

Overall I quite enjoyed this. Finney succeeds in creating the feeling that time is a powerful solvent. Catastrophic events of yesteryear become tiny drips in history. This holds true whether or not we manage to suspend our disbelief and buy into the concept of time travel. 

🌟🌟🌟🌟 

My 2025 Aussie Book Challenge

While scrolling through my reviews from the year that's just been, I had a heart-sinking realisation. In my quest to cover old classics and novels from around the world, I'd read only three Australian books all year. And since they comprised Michael Gerard Bauer's Don't Call Me Ishmael trilogy, which I read back to back, that can arguably be compressed into one. I instantly knew what I'd felt to be missing in 2024, and I kicked myself. As an Aussie author myself, I'm well aware that our excellent stories, and those of our close neighbours, the Kiwis, tend to fly beneath the radar of most of the world. To make amends for last year, I've created my own monthly reading challenge, which includes some quintessentially distinctive categories. And I'm adding the stipulation that they must all be set in Australia, rather than merely having an Australian author. 

If you'd like to, please join me for any or all, making your own choices for the categories. Or at least watch mine as they fill out. These can be ticked off in no particular order. 

 1) Time Travel 

2) Fan Fiction 

3) Memoir/Autobiography 

4) Cosy Mystery 

5)  Convict Story 

6) Bushfire Story 

7) Migration Story 

8) Romantic Fiction  

9) Historical Fiction 

10) Modern Fiction (or at least set in the 21st century) 

11) A Name in the Title 

12) Nature in the Title - Lillipilly Hill by Eleanor Spence