Book Review: Gallowglass by Barbara Vine (aka Ruth Rendell)

Gallowglass - Barbara Vine (Ruth Rendell), Harmony Books, 1990 - 1st American edition  

Before launching into my review of Gallowglass, I would like to make a few preliminary remarks. As Ruth Rendell (aka Barbara Vine) is one of my all-time favourite authors, I actually regret leaving a negative review for Gallowglass. Dating back to my late teens, Rendell has been a favourite author of mine and I am slowly but surely reading my way through Rendell's back catalogue of novels, novellas and short stories. Never particularly taking an interest in her Wexford series, I am a great fan of her standalone psychological suspense fiction, including those titles published under her nom de plume Barbara Vine.

If you check out my book shelf, you will always find, amongst the read copies, an unread Rendell / Vine, ready to be consumed when I am in the mood for another dose of her very special brand of psychological suspense. Luckily, Ruth Rendell, who sadly died in 2015, was a prolific writer and I am thankfully not going to run out of titles any time soon. Many of the titles I have read, I would class as favourite reads, including The Killing Doll, Lake of Darkness, One Across Two Down and the Tree of Hands. 

Numerous of Rendell's plots and motifs stayed with me a long time after reading. Despite having read her novel Grasshopper many, many years ago, I still habitually think of this book and its roof-climbing protagonists, gazing at the rows of terraced houses from the train when I am travelling into London. I can therefore safely say that Rendell's fiction and her style of writing have made a long-lasting impression on me. I am by no means saying that all of her titles are ground-breaking works of fiction. Nevertheless, as far as entertainment is concerned, I have thus far never come across a major let-down. 

Unfortunately, apart from delivering an unexpected twist at the end of the plot, a let-down is what Gallowglass was, at least in my opinion. As a consequence it took me around twelve months to finish this book. I stopped reading two thirds into the novel last November. Around the same time I discovered the BBC mini-series, which I (BIG MISTAKE!) finished watching before completing the book. (For all those interested: The BBC TV adaptation closely follows the book and I would not hesitate recommending it to all those wishing to avoid reading the book.) 

It comes as no surprise that watching the TV adaptation caused me to completely lose my motivation to finish reading Gallowglass until I forced myself through the remaining 75 pages last weekend. Had the book not been written by one of my favourite authors, I might have relegated it back onto the shelf half-read. 

There are several problems with Gallowglass and whilst I cannot really put my finger on it, here are the two main reasons why I only moderately enjoyed this book: 

• The perspective / tone of voice: 

I cannot think of any examples of Rendell / Vine books, in which the author has chosen to tell the story from a character's perspective. Gallowglass, however, is in parts (around half of the chapters) told from the perspective of Little Joe, one of the story's main protagonists. The remainder of the book is narrated from the perspective of a third person narrator. 

In the chapters told from Little Joe's point of view Vine / Rendell naturally adapts her style and language to suit the character's linguistic abilities. Given Little Joe's  background, these abilities are limited, which is reflected in his tone of voice, the conclusions he draws and the observations he makes. If you appreciate Rendell's succinct, elegant and detached mode of storytelling and prose, please be advised that you will not get this for very long stretches of this novel. Whilst reading, I could literally feel that I was trying to read through Little Joe's account of the story quickly, in order to get to the next chapter and be reunited with the third person narrator. 

• Contrived plot / inconsistencies: 

In Gallowglass Rendell / Vine keeps the plot moving at a steady pace, whilst managing to provide accounts of historic events, the characters' backgrounds and motivations. Nevertheless, I felt that the novel was full of incongruities. Why, for example, security magnate Apsoland would employ an ex-teacher (Garnet) without a professional background in security to provide chauffeur services and ensure the personal protection of his wife Nina, aka the Princess, eludes me. 

This point of criticism comes to bear later in the novel as well. Yet, for the sake of keeping this review spoiler-free, let's just say that Apsoland's employee selection and screening processes seem to lack depth. Given Apsoland's profession and stated obsession with security, this was one of the many preposterous elements of the plot and an inconsistency that continued to jar with me until the end, for it is both unbelievable and completely unrealistic, but was also a necessary element to achieve a coherent, albeit contrived, story and the all-important surprise twist at the end.

Sadly, for these reasons I simply did not enjoy the book as much as I would have liked. Gallowglass, however, does not reflect the quality of Rendell's / Vine's other output  and luckily for me, there are many more Rendell / Vine novels to discover. Even though Gallowglass did not convince me, having just started (actually almost finished) The Bridesmaid, Rendell will certainly not lose me as a constant reader.

Book Review - The Killing Doll by Ruth Rendell

The Killing Doll, first released in 1984, showcases Rendell's tremendous talent as a writer of psychological suspense, and being the first Rendell I ever picked up, it introduced me to her work some twenty years ago. It also turned me into what I would describe as a constant reader. Though years may pass without reading one of her novels, there is usually an unread Rendell on my shelves. As soon as I have completed it, another appears to fill the void. 

At the age of 85 Ruth Rendell very sadly passed away in May 2015. Yet, thanks to her prolific output spanning over fifty years and comprising of over sixty titles, I will not be running out of reading material for a while. Though I am not overly keen on her Inspector Wexford series, I am particularly fond of her stand-alone, psychological suspense novels and the books she chose to publish under her pseudonym Barbara Vine. 

Ruth Rendell (17 February 1930 – 2 May 2015)

Too eager to explore her plots and to meet more of her ill-fated characters, I have thus far never ventured into re-reading my Rendell / Vine books. As The Killing Doll was my first ever Rendell, which I read back then in its German translation Der Pakt (The Pact), I thought it was time to make an exception and get hold of the original, English version for a re-read. I was not to be disappointed.

Ruth Rendell - The Killing Doll, 1984, Book Club Associates Edition 

Judging by other readers' reviews, The Killing Dolll seems to divide opinions, both between seasoned fans and those new to Rendell's work. Whichever side of the fence you are on, the book appears to provoke strong emotions in both camps. Whilst some praise it for its tight plotting and unexpected twist at the end, others seem to criticise it for its alleged lack of pace, the absence of likeable characters and its subject matter; i.e. the protagonists' dabbling in the occult. 

The plot by and large centres around the Yearman family, comprising of siblings Dolly and Pup as well as their widowed father Harold. Coinciding with Mrs Yearman's demise, Pup begins to dabble in magic rituals, selling his soul to devil in exchange for worldly goods and, above all, physical growth. He enlists the help of his sister Dolly, an apt seamstress, who - owing to a facial disfigurement - has  very few social contacts and leads an isolated life mostly confined to and maintaining the family's home. 

Dolly sews Pup's ceremonial robe and is from time to time allowed to attend the so-called 'temple', which Pup has created in an unused room in the house, whilst their father - oblivious to the ceremonial magic practised under his roof - is completely absorbed by his obsession with historical fiction and, eventually, his new wife, Myra.

Following Mrs Yearman's death, Dolly's interest in occult matters is amplified when she attends a number of seances and gets further fuelled by her desire to employ magic in order to banish Myra from the family home. Yet, after discovering his business acumen and penchant for casual sex with a string of affairs, both Pub's emotional connection to his sister and involvement with the occult are waning, and he is increasingly viewing his preoccupation with magic as a childish pastime obsession. Though still fond of his sister, both his sexual proclivities and newly found role as a businessman leave little time to devote to his sister's emotional well-being.

Despite this, Pup continues to perform rituals to please his sister, thereby continuing to fuel her belief in his abilities. When in the aftermath of one such ceremony involving the ritual stabbing of Myra's effigy in the form of a cloth doll, Myra is discovered dead in the Yearman's bathroom, Dolly's belief in the efficacy of her brother's geomancy is reaffirmed, triggering a fateful spiral of events and further accelerating Dolly's descent into madness. 

To me, The Killing Doll delivers perhaps one of the best contemporary depictions of a protagonist's gradual descent into substance abuse and schizophrenia as well as the concomitant circumstances of isolation and dysfunctional family relations, which in the end enable the condition to take hold and completely engulf the individual.

I therefore firmly belong into the camp of those, who did not merely enjoy the novel but would also recommend it to all those wishing to explore Rendell's body of work further. After all, to maintain the reader's interest, characters do not have to be likeable. Quite the contrary. Childish preoccupations such as dabbling in occult writings and rituals as well as unexpected chance encounters (similar to the one at the end of the book) can have fateful consequences and are therefore utterly believable. As for the alleged lack of pace, I would argue that Rendell does not deviate from her usual norm and succinct style, telling a story spanning a timeframe of over five years in the space of less than 240 pages suggests that the book is not cluttered with unnecessary detail.

Book Review: Disordered Minds by Minette Walters

Diligently working my way through all the unread books on my shelf, I finished Disordered Minds by Minette Walters a couple of weeks ago. Taking place in the early 2000s, the plot of the mystery unfolds against the backdrop of the British / American offensive in Iraq back in 2003. The main protagonists, Jonathan and George, set out to exonerate a convicted murderer, Howard Stamp, posthumously. 

Disordered Minds - Minette Walters

Agatha Christie - Death on the Nile

Death on the Nile by Agatha Christie


My rating: 3 of 5 stars
It is obviously quite difficult to review a book that has been commented upon so many times, and it is therefore challenging to come up with anything new that hasn't already been said or written by others before. Nevertheless, here is my opinion on "Death on the Nile": If you like murder mysteries and the quintessentially English "whodunnit", then this should certainly be a candidate on your "must-read" list. Christie's story is unputdownable and a perfectly crafted example of the genre. The author introduces a myriad of characters, which is quite often a guarantee for confusing your readers. This is not the case with "Death on the Nile" and due to the author's skill you will remain on top of the story and its various sub-plots at all times. As with all murder mysteries, it pays to have your attention on details revealed throughout the story, but in "Death on the Nile" it is difficult to guess in advance, who really was the perpetrator of the three murders. In the end I had to rely on the guidance of the ingenious Hercule Poirot.

In this context I have to admit, how glad I am only to have watched snippets of the Hercule Poirot film adaptations, which enabled me to imagine a Poirot that was rather different from the character in the films. Above all, by reading the Poirot books you are not constantly bothered by Poirot's stylised French (sorry, Beligian-French)accent. Instead, you get a chance of improving your rudimentary language skills when Poirot throws in a few remarks in French here in there. The same applies to the Teutonic character, Dr Bessner. The different nationalities of the characters lend themselves very well to stereotyping and Christie seems to thrive on this throughout the book.
Another interesting aspect permeating the whole story was Christie's rather subtle mockery of the upperclass protagonists.

Reading the book in 2008, I was quite shocked by the extremely racist references about "wretched Negro children" and various other derogatory remarks about the natives. Perhaps, this should not come as a surprise, bearing in mind that another of Christie's stories was originally published under the title "Ten Little Indians", only to be renamed "Ten Little Niggers", which was scrapped again. The story is now titled "And Then There Were None", which obviously fits better with a post-colonial audience. Nonetheless, the book is so interesting, especially because we have to see it in its historical context.

Another downside for me was the superficial characterisation of the protagonists. This is naturally not Christie's fault (and as stated above, I think she has done a good job) but a generic problem of murder mysteries, especially when these often only span around 250 pages. I personally prefer the somewhat deeper psychological analysis of authors such as a Barbara Vine (aka Ruth Rendell). This criticism, however, only derives from personal preference and does not touch upon the author's skill. Without mentioning any details, I also think that the ending lets the book down a bit.

All in all, "Death on the Nile" was a page-turner and an enjoyable weekend-read, even though the denoument is a trifle disappointing. I will refrain from going into detail about this, but it felt a little rushed and unsatisfying to my mind. Despite this, the story is worth a read, and I guarantee you will get sucked into it, provided murder mysteries are your preferred genre.

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Review: Lake of Darkness by Ruth Rendell

I stumbled upon Ruth Rendell in my teens and, with the exception of Rendell’s Inspector Wexford series, I have persistently returned to her novels. To me, Rendell is a genius! Judging by the synopses on the covers of her books, most of her plots seem a trifle bland, not to say boring. However, once you give it a go, you quickly get sucked in.

Lake of Darkness by Ruth Rendell

All her psychological novels have got one decisive feature: She creates protagonists that on the surface have got absolutely nothing in common with each other. As her stories unravel,  Rendell creates a web of fateful connections between her protagonists, and, in the end, all are entangled in a web of (often) unintended and horrific consequences. Lake of Darkness serves as a good example.

Following guidance from his erstwhile university friend Tim Sage, Martin, a young accountant from a well-to-do family, wins a fortune in the football pools. Due to philanthropic impulses, Martin decides to put his wealth to good use and draws up a list of deserving people, who he considers to be in need of financial help. Amongst the beneficiaries is Lena, the family’s former, mentally–ill cleaner, who lives together with her son, Finn, in a shabby London bed-sit. 

Finn is a sociopath, who not only works as a handyman, but also as a contract killer. When Martin contacts Finn with the good news, Finn completely misunderstands Martin’s philanthropic motive and assumes that Martin’s “gift” is intended to pay for his services as an assassin. Meanwhile, all the reader can do is follow the tragedy unfold as the two worlds collide.

Just like Martin, the educated and professionally successful bachelor, who has only recently moved out from a somewhat (sterile) parental home in order to move into an up-market (sterile) flat, Finn lives in an isolated world, defined by a belief in the supernatural, his own invincibility and his mentally deranged mother. Whilst Finn is a loner by choice, all of Martin’s social relationships are of a more or less functional nature. By the same token, it is exactly this very isolation that is the trigger behind Martin’s irrational choices. Above all, this is exemplified by his almost childish devotion to his girlfriend, Francesca. Both characters simply occupy different social spaces, which in the end collide. 

The motif of social isolation and its consequences permeates many Rendell novels and Lake of Darkness is no exception. In fact, it is to a large extent due to this underlying isolation that Rendell’s characters assume deeply tragic qualities.

Apart from her talent as a writer of psychological novels, Rendell’s stories should be viewed as historical documents, sketching the development of London and the home counties during the 1970s. Lake of Darkness, for instance, is set against the background of acute housing shortages and the onset of the property boom in the capital during the late 1970s and 1980s.

Whilst I have to admit that the plot of the story is at times slightly unbelievable, Lake of Darkness is a gripping book, deeply tragic, full of wonderful prose and poignant dialogue, with sometimes even comic attributes.