The Great Stink is on my To be Ordered from the Library List. I had not realised it was a whodunit and expected it to be along the lines of The Great Stink: Sir Joseph Bazalgette by Stephen Halliday or The Great Stink of Paris by David Barnes. All covering a similar subject and time; although Paris put up with its own stink for longer.
I donÂt read many novels and almost no detective-type works but am interested in history so an accurate well-written historical detective work could hold my attention and I have paddled in the shallows of Iain Peters Dream of Scipio and Instance at the Fingerpost. Also some of Peter AckroydÂs stuff, Hawksmoor comes to mind.. Although I find something unsettling and creepy about his work, he does get his facts right.
Frieda, you asked on the Louis de B thread if people enjoyed reading about Âancient or Âmodern history or stories set in those times. Personally I prefer something I can relate to in some way. So a novel set in a cave inhabited by hairy Troglodyts, however deep and meaningful the plot, with the protagonists speaking in rhyming couplets as they discussed WomanÂs Place in the World, or a mystery searching for the killer of the Druid priest with a sabre-toothed tigerÂs shinbone, would hold little appeal for me. At least the situation, characters, setting etc of a novel set in the last few hundred years has some meaning for me as I have probably read something about the history of that period . . . and I can waste much time thinking/shouting at the page "Steam engines werenÂt invented in 1669" or "They could not have visited the London Planetarium in 1934 it wasnÂt built until the Â50Âs."

And, Frieda, totally Âoff topic but as I now have your attention. Did you get a chance to watch the DVD? It should 'work' on your computer but will need to be 'doctored' for your TV. I received your email saying it had arrived, but I think it is still impossible for any of us to contact you at your email address . . .Believe me, I have tried!

Ah! Vee, the two nonfiction books about "Stinks" are just the league I want to follow up Clark's novel. Thanks for the mention. I've been terribly interested in sewers since I saw Trevor Howard (as Major Calloway) descend into the Vienna sewer chasing Harry Lime in "The Third Man." I've read several nonfiction and a couple of novels about the nineteenth-century New York City sewer system and a couple about the Boston sewers -- none of which I can give titles to, at the moment.

I managed to get through Instance of the Fingerpost and a couple of Pears' art mysteries -- Giotto's Hand was one -- but, as I recall (it's been several years), I thought they were rather turgid. Yeah, I agree with you about Ackroyd's books being creepy -- I read Hawksmoor and Dan Leno and the Limehouse Golem. Well, if anybody gets London's history right, it ought to be Ackroyd.

Heh! Hairy-toed-male and feminist-female troglodytes and shinbone-rattling proto-detectives hunting Druid-killers...I think I know the books or type of books you are talking about. Ancient can be perverted too easily, I'm afraid. I quite like the idea of historical novels and mysteries set during ancient times but the ones I've read, for the most part, are silly beyond silliness, in my opinion of course. Anya Seton's The Mistletoe and the Sword and Rosemary Sutcliff's young adult novels about Roman-occupied Britain are exceptions I'll make, but I first read those at such a young age I wasn't very discriminating. I read one about Hadrian's Wall recently and one about Stonehenge, another about Pompeii, and some about Celtic goings-on in Eire -- none were particularly impressive, to me.

Vee, I will try to send you an email. Look out for one in, say, the next 24 hours. I've been living out of a suitcase and my Internet access is intermittent.

Frieda, your interest in sewers is odd but delightful. There must be more people like you, as I was astonished to find a sewage museum listed amongst the attractions of Hamburg recently...

I find that mysteries with a historical setting, especially the "good" ones, often feel too carefully researched - i.e. all the fruits of the research have to be fed into the novel, which means that the characters do not move freely, but in a disguised guided tour of the period.
I read one that I quite enjoyed because it was set in my native town of Hamburg in 1765, Petra Oelker's "Tod am Zollhaus" (Death in the Customs House) - but it did have that well-researched, over-informative thing, and I have not read another since...

Frieda, I'm going to add this title to my TBR list - sounds interesting.

Anyanka, I think there is a surprising amount of interest in sewers. My brother and I followed in the steps of Jean Valjean back in 1977 when we took a walking tour of the sewers of Paris. It was fascinating. It appears from a quick google search that these tours are still offered.

I find that mysteries with a historical setting, especially the "good" ones, often feel too carefully researched - i.e. all the fruits of the research have to be fed into the novel, which means that the characters do not move freely, but in a disguised guided tour of the period.

Anyanka, that pegs what I feel a lot of the time, too. When I'm reading fiction, I really don't like to be aware of all the research involved -- well, not during the first reading anyway. Only afterwards do I want to think about and admire it, or tear it apart. But as a writer, I can certainly empathize with an author who wants to include as much of his/her hard work as possible. Under-researching is probably more egregious (in my eye), but that over-researched aspect -- when it constipates the writing -- has certainly put me off some otherwise pretty good storytellers. I guess, with fiction, that I want the character development and plot (if there is one) to be foremost and the details to be there but unobtrusive. It's not just a problem with historical-fiction writing, though: some contemporary writing is just as bad; for example, I'm thinking of Bret Easton Ellis and David Foster Wallace and their use of "product placement" -- they don't have their characters make coffee; they make coffee with some hi-falutin' brand name of coffeemaker, etc., etc., etc. Argh!

Vee, with the passing of John Profumo, do you reckon we'll get more fictional treatments of the "Scandal"? Not counting Christine Keeler's various renditions. For the life of me, I'm not sure why that mess has fascinated everyone, including me, for so long...except, oh yeah, there's all the sex and supposed espionage and the enigmatic Stephen Ward and the downfall of a Prime Minister.

If you've been looking for an email from me, Vee, I haven't been able to get any to not bounce back on me. Will try again, as soon as I can.

Ah! Frieda, The Third Man "plinky plinky plink ker plonk"; so very film noir.
Anyanka you are right about the over-researched books. I remember trying to read The Origin by Irving Stone; about Darwin. The first chapter read like a guide book to his house (probably IS had one next to the typewriter). I didn't bother to read further.
On the other hand I read and enjoyed The Birth of Venus by Sarah Dunant and only last week while listening to a programme on BBC radio (part of a series on the Medici/Florence) I realised that the part of her story concerning her brother and her husband (both 'gays') were absolutely spot-on and that gangs of thugs roamed the city streets at night on the lookout for nefarious goings on.

You are right about the 'Profumo Affair' I was at school when the story broke and we were forbidden by the nuns to read the 'Times' the only paper available in the school library. As only the VI form (ie 16-18 year olds) was even allowed in that room . .reading not being very far up the list of necessary accomplishments for gently-bred young ladies, pause for hollow laugh, what was the first thing we did; rushed to read the Times.
To any US RP'ers, John Profumo was an MP(for Stratford-on-Avon where I grew up. "He always was a Ladies Man" the locals muttered through their teeth). He fell for the charms of a young call-girl, Christine Keeler who was also 'obliging' the Soviet Military Attaché. Keeler and her chum Mandy Rice-Davies had been introduced to the High Life by osteopath and collector of call-girls Stephen Ward and was mixing with the Astor set at Cliveden (remember Nancy Astor the social-climber from Virginia? She would have turned in her grave).
MI5 got interested. Profumo made a statement in the House of Commons saying he and Keeler were just good friends. They still being gentlemen, believed him, the press didn't and offered much mazuma/filthy lucre to Keeler, who spilt the beans.
Ward died of an over-dose, Keeler did time for perjury, Profumo resigned, as lying to Parliament is considered caddish and the Prime Minister, Harold MacMillan, soon retired to his grouse moors.
Profumo went on to help among the poor in the East End of London where his work became highly regarded.
As you say Frieda, why should all that fuss have been made about call-girls, pimps, orgies, spies, sex romps, lies, and Top People? It isn't as though anything like that would ever happen today is it?

Back to Renaissance Florence. Below is a link to the 3 radio programmes, each one is half-an-hour long; all very informative.

Frieda none of your emails are bouncing in my direction. I think some serious work is needed on your anti-spam and/or provider. DH says read all the routing info on the headers . . .it may tell you where you are going wrong.

Here is a link that might be useful: Florence and the Medici.

Vee, if you enjoyed The Birth of Venus, do try Dunant's latest, In the Company of the Courtesan. It has been released here, but I think it is due out in April in the UK. It is in a similar vein, very well written with I am sure a lot of good research, but not shoved in your face.

With regard to the 'literary' mystery or thriller, I have read The Instance of the Fingerpost and enjoyed that very much, also The Dante Club by Matthew Pearl, which was good but quite graphic. I quite like this kind of book if the mystery is also good, but I have found that often the mystery is second to the 'literary merit' of the book, and I don't like that.

I read Donna Tart's The Secret History and couldn't see what the fuss was about. I don't mind that we knew the killers at the beginning, and the book followed why it happened - that can be an interesting literary device - but in this case, it happened because it could! And I really couldn't get over her editors letting her call siblings Charles and Camilla - I mean, really. There were a lot of literary and classical references, some of which went over my head, but basically I thought it was pretentious nonsense. (JMHO of course *g*)

Vee or Kath, refresh my memory, please. Was there a mystery involved in The Birth of Venus? All I can recall was the somewhat mysterious identity of "The Painter," whether he was based on a particular real-life painter or not. Didn't we decide in the discussion that he was a perhaps a composite of several "Northern" artists of that time? Other than that, I remember the roaming thugs you mentioned, Vee, and Alessandra's husband's and brother's sexual proclivities, and the secret of who Alessandra's father was. Oh-oh, yes, there was someone killing...was it women and priests? I can't remember who or why!! I suppose that's why I never really considered The Birth of Venus a mystery story. It's mainly a historical novel; and the murders and such are incidental, added for interest, I guess. I quite liked TBoV, but there was something about it that didn't set well with me for some reason -- don't know now what that was, though.

Speaking of Dunant: I read her Mapping the Edge, and I think that one is more what I would call a mystery, or perhaps "psychological suspense" is a better description. I think she has also written some conventional-type mysteries. Has anyone read any of those?

Kath, The Secret History is another I don't really think of as a mystery. It's not exactly a thriller, either. Maybe it's "psychological suspense" too. I'm probably splitting hairs, because I realize it's a whydunit instead of a whodunit. Maybe that's why mystery and crime is really a hybrid genre and there's all the subgenres branching off from there. How do booksellers handle the problem, Kath? Is The Secret History in the literature section or the crime/mystery section of your shop?

The Secret History is pretentious -- deliberately so, I think. Except for the fella from California, all the characters are a smarmy lot. I rather enjoyed watching them screw up and fall apart, big time! I've always had a suspicion that most "classicists" are f*rts in a box, anyway. I think Tartt's novel is too drawn out, and I don't really think it deserves "literary" status; but I liked it enough to read it twice and I might read it again sometime. Heh! Charles and Camilla -- I never caught that!

Vee, does Mandy Rice-Davies still make appearances on television? She and Christine got plenty of mileage out of their notoriety; but Mandy was a lot more savvy than Christine, it seems. The film "Scandal" depicted Ward sympathetically, and I read the Knightley/Kennedy book titled An Affair of State: The Profumo Case and the Framing of Stephen Ward, and Keeler herself (if you can trust anything she says) maintains that Ward was not what he was painted to be. Perhaps we'll never know. What was/is the consensus in your neck of the woods? Oh, btw, there was a song about the affair -- do you happen to know the title and who performed it?

Frieda, there wasn't a mystery in The Birth of Venus more than those you have mentioned, I think I got side tracked.

With regards to putting books in various sections in our shop, it is quite a problem. We have a head office that puts the books into categories, but we are free to change them in our own shop. Tartt's books go in the literature section, but fiction versus lit versus crime is a bit of a hard one to call. Some of the sorting is wrong in my opinion - Ben Elton and Helen Fielding in literature, for instance. And some thriller types are in fiction and some in crime. I don't think there is an easy way to overcome the problems though.

Kath, I have the Dunant book ordered from the library from when you mentioned it on an earlier post; many thanks. I never buy novels etc. and rely heavily on borrowing.
I'm surprised that Elton and Fielding count as 'literature' at your shop, but then on reflection what modern novels could be considered as more than plain old 'fiction'?

Frieda (and this is nothing to do with Lit-Myst) I have never seen Mandy Rice-Davies on TV and believe she is now a grandmother living in the States. She is best remembered for her oft quoted remark made at the trial. When Lord Astor denied sleeping with her she told the judge "Well he would say that wouldn't he, My Lord?"
Didn't see the film or know of any (musical) records about the case.
Yes, there was some support for Stephen Ward (all after his death). The English always like to prop-up an underdog, but he ran a string of call-girls even if he thought of them as 'house-guests' and generally sucked up to so-called aristocrats, possibly not the sort of guy you would have taken to meet your parents. Perhaps it is just a matter of taste and what was considered respectable at that straight-laced time.
Many people talk of the Swinging Sixties as having kicked off at around that time, but I don't remember them really getting going until nearer the 70's! I always think of over-bright stars like Mick Jagger, Marianne Faithfull, the Mars bar story :-) the drugs, the wayout clothes . . .
My goodness I'm getting old. I'll just go and make myself a nice mug of cocoa.

Kath, I suspect a lot of categorizing is based on the reputation of the author: Margaret Atwood could write a potboiler and it would be shelved in literature.

I've been trying to think of other literary mysteries I have read. Alias Grace would qualify, I think; though it's really more of a character study, there's still the element of mystery. The open-endedness, however, might disqualify it. Anita Shreeve's Weight of Water and Sarah Smith's Knowledge of Water are a couple of others. The best fit that I can think of, though, is Ron Hansen's Atticus -- there's really a mystery there that gets solved by the title character, though the story is just as much a portrait of this Colorado rancher who has to go to Mexico to have the body of his murdered son exhumed and shipped back to the U.S. It seems to me that in order to qualify for literariness, the "puzzle" aspect of a mystery is deemphasized (the mystery doesn't even have to be solved) and other things like character, time, and place are more important.

Vee, when I first arrived in London during August 1972, I had the distinct impression that London's swinging heyday was on the wane. I was rather disappointed, in fact. Heck, even the money had been changed the previous year to boring decimals. Vee, Vee, I am appalled that you could have heard of that Mars Bar tale. Your nuns must be doing barrel rolls.

I'm not sure if Americans paid much attention to the Profumo situation in 1963 -- I know I didn't, but then I was thirteen that summer. It wasn't until nine years later that I kept hearing about the "infamous case" and wondered what it was all about. I saw Mandy a couple of times on television in the 1970s -- I think she was living in Israel with her Israeli husband at the time and running one of her nightclubs. As late as the 1990s, she was in at least one episode of "Absolutely Fabulous," along with her 1960's companion in notoriety, Marianne Faithfull -- the latter was portraying GOD!! I think she's been in bit parts of several films -- one I recall was the oddball musical, "Absolute Beginners," that was based on Colin MacInnes' novel of the same title about the London of the 1950s that had just escaped rationing and was about to explode into the hedonism of the 1960s. Of course that was just the era that Mandy and Christine hit London.

There was definitely a song, but I can't even think of one phrase from it to GOOGLE.

Vee, you know that I don't care about sticking to the topic as much as I like conversations that lead interesting places. We can always get back on topic any time we feel like it. :-)

Vee, Vee, I am appalled that you could have heard of that Mars Bar tale. Your nuns must be doing barrel rolls.

It appears that an important element of my education is missing, and with such a teaser, I NEED TO KNOW: what is the Mars Bar tale, ma'am?

Ahem, er, ah...Janalyn, remember you asked and I'm just obliging you with an answer. :-)

That Mars bar pictured is inaccurate, though; I'm pretty sure. The British Mars bar is a bit different from the American-brand Mars bar shown; and it doesn't have almonds, I don't think. But I guess any chocolate bar would work. Yeeech!

Here is a link that might be useful: Mars Bar Legend

..hmmm yes, I suppose any old chocolate bar would work....Mars bars are pretty good though. ;-) thanks for the enlightenment....

Now that's the type of historical detail I enjoy. Hilarious but somewhat disconcerting. Can't even begin to imagine why - or how - anybody would conceive of that particular use for a Mars Bar or why that portion of the female anatomy could ever possibly need the added enhancement of some mundane chocolate
couverture.
Historical mysteries not my fave genre in fact can't say I've ever read an example - except maybe for The Name Of The Rose - so cannot comment.

Re deeply researched detail plonked willy nilly into novels. I often wonder why the author bothers. Think it turns more people off reading a book than almost any other authorial self indulgence. Certainly slows the narrative as the reader is obliged to either skim or skip some tedious obscure details or dive into an encycolpaedia to make real sense of the author's scene setting. Certainly has no real educative value either as I tend to forget 99% of the laboriously implanted detail as soon as I close the covers of the book.
The Profumo case a big deal in my childhood. If only Australian politicians were as profligate in their pantless acts if derring -do as their American and British counterparts - would make for a more interesting political scene. Our only real claim to fame is our PM of the early eighties Malcolm Fraser who during a visit to the US reported back to his hotel in Memphis bereft of trousers and wallet. Never was explained in any detail as to how this eventuated. The Oz press never pursues our pollies indiscretions with quite the same investigative relish as their British and American colleagues.
Gotta admit to a certain shameful voyeuristic pleasure in seeing the great and famous caught in humiliating but totally human situations with their pants around their ankles. The Brits seem to specialise in the more kinky side of this particular endeavour. You know - ministers of the crown found dead in women's' underwear, their head in a plastic bag and a lemon in the mouth - but maybe just a little surreal for my taste. But the Yanks - mostly just pure red blooded lust which I can really identify with. Clinton is my all time hero in this regard. Can't fault the guy in the least - except for denying it. Should have just been upfront and said "yes Ms Lewinsky and I did play hide the cigar and engaged in other activities requiring fluid exchange but I challenge all the rest of you hypocrites to deny that you wouldn't have done exactly the same in my position". I would have put his poster on my wall if he'd done that. Larry

Frieda, I googled for 'Profumo affair song' and got the following -

The Best of Broadside: 17. "Christine"

Politics and sex have always made curious bedfellows. In 1963 Christine Keeler, a young model, carried on an affair with British Secretary of State for War John Profumo. To make life even more complicated, Keeler was also carrying on with a Soviet naval attache, Eugene Ivanov. Occurring at the height of the Cold War, the affair caused much embarrassment and the eventual downfall of the Conservative government of British Prime Minister Harold Macmillan. The ever-witty Matt McGinn penned this little ditty about the Profumo Affair. Phil Ochs also wrote the song "Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice Davies" about the affair. The Profumo-Keeler incident garnered a great deal of news coverage and later became the basis for the 1989 Hollywood movie Scandal, starring John Hurt, Joanne Walley-Kilmer, and Bridget Fonda.

The link below should take you to a page with a little snippet of the song.

Here is a link that might be useful: Christine

Frieda is right to note that the Great British Mars Bar contains no nuts. How would you explain the rash caused by the allergy to your Medical Practitioner?
"Well Doctor it was like this. My work at the soup kitchen being over, I planned to take in the double feature of The Sound of Music and Bambi. It being a hot afternoon, I had decided to remove my serge undergarments, but imagine my shock when I realised someone had left a sticky, unwrapped confectionary bar on the cinema seat."

Your mention of Colin MacInnes reminds me of the excellent book by his brother Graham McInnes (different name spelling)
Humping my Bluey. Whatever the title sounds like to Brits it is actually about his time travelling through Australia. Colin and Graham's Mother was the 30's novelist Angela Thirkall . .who I can't get on with at all. She came from a well-connected family of sisters who have been written about by Judith Flanders in A Circle of Sisters - Alice Kipling, Georgina Burne-Jones, Agnes Poynter and Louisa Baldwin. As Kath recommended here Flanders also wrote Inside the Victorian House although I think the 'Sisters' book is much better. A niece of the 'Sisters' Monica Baldwin, wrote I Jumped Over the Wall her account of leaving an enclosed community and staying with Uncle Stanley Baldwin the PM.
As Larry points out people in High Places frequently let themselves down in the UK as has been shown during the recent Liberal Party search for a new leader. "Three-in-a-Bed-Same-Sex-Romp. Will My Wife Stand By Me?" headlines may sell newpapers but don't do much for our political image. It must be all the single-sex education we have in the UK.
As you say, one thing leads to another.

And more results (can you tell I'm not overly busy with important things right now?). I can't find the lyrics to the Matt McGinn song above, but I did find the Phil Ochs mentioned alongside it.

PHIL OCHS Song Lyrics

Christine Keeler

(From the album "THE BROADSIDE TAPES 1")

Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davies,
You're the gals for me.
Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davies,
I'll keep you company.

You can have your Marilyn, your Carolyn, your Jacqueline.
Grace Kelly never meant that much to me--
Just give me:
Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davies,
You're the gals for me. (I'll give you secrets.)
And you're the gals for me.

Oh, you get good defense from Robert McNamara--
Defends us all day long;
But when Lord Profumo takes off his mascara
You know he can't go wrong.

Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., and Lord and Lady Astor:
Everybody's gonna lose their minds
Because of:
Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davies,
Will you be mine, all mine? (I'll take your pictures.)
Will you be mine, all mine?

Larry, I'd rather the Mars bar than the cigar..............

Well Kath both seem to be a totally superfluous gilding of the lily to me. Smokers and chocolate lovers may disagree. Hate kissing anybody who's been smoking so dunno exactly what was on Clinton's mind but who am I to question the great man's predilection for Cuban tobacco.
Personally think its wonderful when our leaders show themselves to be just as accident prone in amatory pursuits as the rest of us mere mortals. I think it's only the morally censorious who find fault with such charming and harmless horseplay. Gives the great and powerful a real human dimension.
It is to my eternal regret that somebody like Maggie Thatcher was never found knicker less with a tumescent but dumbstruck Ronald Reagan in a cabinet room full of Mars Bars and cigars. One can only dream. Larry

Frankly, I think we should get our thoughts out of the sewer and back on topic...

sorry, I just realized we are on topic. (couldn't resist that one, Frieda)

Heh! Good 'un, Janalyn. It's fascinating where threads will go sometimes.

Wow, Anyanka, thanks for your searches. I'm not sure which -- if either -- of those songs you found is the one I remember. Unfortunately, the computer I'm on now doesn't have sound, but I've made note of the link and I will listen when I do have audio. I never would've associated Phil Ochs with an interest in the Profumo Affair; but he was a social commentator, so why not? I seem to recall, though, that the song I'm thinking of was performed by a female.

Vee, I'm with you about Angela Thirkell's writing -- the Trollope-like stuff, anyway (I can't get into Trollope either). But I did enjoy her Trooper to the Southern Cross, about her voyage to Australia. What's with the different spellings of MacInnes/McInnes?

Anyone have other literary historical-mystery suggestions? I think this is a subgenre that I could really enjoy if the books aren't too obviously over-researched or pretentious as heck. But the absolute worst sin a historical novelist can commit, in my opinion, is "presentism," the inability to shed a modern-day perspective. It's not a mystery, but a recent historical novel that has that kind of revisionism is One Thousand White Women: The Journals of May Dodd by Jim Fergus. The premise sounds good, but the execution stinks worse than a sewer, in my opinion -- not believable at all. Yet, I've had people tell me how fantastically real Fergus depicts Native American culture and how the white women and the Cheyenne men adapted to each other (as if this was an actual event). What? I want to say.

Thank you Frieda for steering the great ship USS Thread away from the murky waters of lubricious speculation.
Re "presentism" I am instantly reminded of L.P. Hartley's glorious opening line from The Go-Between.

The past is another country:they do things differently there.

All historical fiction no matter how meticulously researched is a speculative re-imagining of a past where we are strangers bereft of map, compass, phrase book and local knowledge. We accept as a guide a bedraggled tale teller whose only recommendation as an escort is that he presents us with a somewhat coherent,if utterly unverifiable, picture of where we are as a substitute for our baffled ignorance.
Unfortunately our tale teller has based his version of the past on the equally fallible writings of others who have journeyed there and returned with errant memory ,mistook ideas, smudged and tattered journal and an utter belief in the fabrications of local scribblers and turned that mish mash of impressions into a tale which in time miraculously morphs into what we laughingly call "fact".

As such I am reminded of travel writing which I adamantly refuse to read anymore. Having read some travelogues about my own country by travellers from the great and mythical "overseas" - including Bryson and Horwitz - I am struck by how ludicrously and hilariously astray they are. How utterly reliant on cliche and cultural "snapshots" and how they weave a glorious, colourful tapestry out of a few wispy threads of warped perspective. How foolish was I to believe all those exotic tales of other lands, I ask myself, when in the hands of these self same purveyors of traveller's truths my own country disappears under a welter of almost surreal wrong impressions.

Can't argue with your distaste for an author transplanting modern perspectives into the minds of his imagined protagonists but how are we to know if he were to replace them with other seemingly more accurate, historical perspectives that it was anywhere closer to the truth. We just don't. Our own perspectives and attitudes are slippery enough and warp and reshape themselves often enough to make any claims we might make about having a grasp on the minds of peoples hundreds of years in our past as fragile as a politician's promise. History is written not only by the victors but also by those who had the opportunity, education, means and time to write it. All we have and accept as historical truth are the perspectives of the tiniest slice of past populations. Having long ago accepted that what we read in historical fiction (and oftentimes those that claim to be fact) is at best a shadowy verisimilitude constructed by that wondrous machine of imagination - the human brain- I ask for nothing more than a tale well told, hopefully studded with universal human truths rather than the imagined ones of historical fact. Larry

Ah Frieda, for someone who eschews novels, you sure do write bang-up reviews of the ones you like.

For literary mysteries, how about the Maisie Dobbs series by Jaqueline Winspear? Okay, Maisie Dobbs is a thoroughly modern woman, but I do like the fact that the mystery is just an excuse to examine life in England after WWI. By literary, I mean fairly well written, as opposed to full of literary allusions.

I'd also include Sharyn McCrumb's She Walks These Hills which has as one of it's three story lines, the tale of a woman's escape from her Indian captors.

I'd love to read an historical novel where the hero hated Jews, or Catholics, or Protestants, or women or whatever, and was fine with it. But then none of us would like the hero and we wouldn't read the book, would we? Larry, I think you have it right, "universal human truths rather than the imagined ones of historical fact."

For some reason, I remember the Profumo headlines, although I was only 8, probably because the name Christine would have grabbed me. I never did hear the mars bars story which may be why I was shocked, shocked I tell you, by Maryann Faithful's album "Broken English." And also entranced. Does anyone else know it?

I don't normally read mysteries for a number of reasons. But I have picked up a few that were historical (why do I keep wanting to write hysterical?) based on others' comments here. One that I particularly enjoyed was C.J.Sansoms' Dissolution (new author) and I have attached a link to it below. It's a period of history that I find fascinating and the hero of the novel is atypical in that he is a hunchback and fallible in his emotions and idealistic conclusions. At least initially; there was character growth. He was interesting and I thought the research above par for this kind of novel.
I see that this writer has another novel out, and I'll check it out.
Nope, Chris, but I did do a google search and I think I now know the song you are thinking of...lol!

Here is a link that might be useful: Dissolution

Janalyn, I really enjoyed both of the Sansom books, and I agree about the research and the interest of the character.

I'll second that Kath, after reading the reviews it looks promising. I shall get it from the library.

Oh yes, I read Dissolution a couple of years ago and liked it quite well until the pay off, which, in my opinion, didn't do justice to the otherwise fine set up, characterizations, and historical details. Still, I think the mystery aspect made the whole story of Cromwell's orchestration of the Dissolution of the Monasteries that much more intriguing. A long-time fantasy of mine (it first came to my mind when I was about twelve or thirteen) is to pick bones with Henry VIII -- with impunity for me, of course. I hadn't intended to read Sansom's follow up, but I might now with your recommendation, Kath and Janalyn.

Chris, I don't eschew novels -- novels are some of my all-time favorite books -- but I'm rather picky about which ones I read, I admit. I read Maisie Dobbs. I thought it was half-baked until I realized it was the start of a series -- I'm guessing the mystery parts will develop better in the subsequent books. Right? The first one was mostly set up and backstory. Yeah, Maisie is a little too ahead of her time in some respects -- "psychological profiling" and all that, though I'm sure there was some of that done intuitively and it just didn't have an official name yet. That generation of British women -- without men, so many of them -- interests me greatly, and I'm not too het up about the mystery aspect being secondary. I'll probably go on to read Maisie's further adventures. I've still read only one McCrumb mystery, but I keep meaning to look at another. Thanks for the mentions.

Chris, no, I have not heard Faithfull's "Broken English." You say you were shocked and entranced. Well...now I have to find it to understand why!

Larry, your post has given me a lot to chew on. Yeah, history is fog, fragmentation, and distortion, mostly; but I still think there are some historians and writers of historical novels who assemble the hodgepodge better than others. I really don't have problems with speculation or some imaginative reworkings (in novels, not straight history), but if things get too imaginative (implausible), I think the results should be labeled something besides "historical novel" or "historical mystery" -- Speculation or Fantasy, perhaps. But then the latter designation seems to be reserved for a dreamy, supernatural-type tale or something wild and bizarre; or Historical Romance works well enough for me, but I suspect that designation would put off some readers who would otherwise relish the story under some other categorization. So I just don't know how to slot things or if it's even possible. I'm sure there will always be certain books that don't fit smoothly into any category. A recent example that I read was Anthony O'Neill's The Lamplighter, touted as a historical mystery. Well, it is but it isn't, and I was, at first, infuriated that I had been misled. Other readers have complained about it, too. I don't know why we get so strung out, though. Years ago I was delighted when a book turned into...

Frieda, I just left you a message on the "Twelth Night Party" thread, recommending a book I think you would like.

Frieda, my favorite McCrumb book is If Ever I Return, Pretty Peggy-O, but it is also the first one of hers that I read. I sometimes think the first read of any author sticks in my mind as the "best."

The titles of the English-based books by Martha Grimes are all names of pubs. I have read all of them and enjoy them, but she is not the writer that Elizabeth George is, IMO.

Mary, you've pegged what I like. I read Rising Tide several years ago; and the 1927 flood, with everything that led up to it and the subsequent fallout, was the first thing I thought of when it became obvious that Katrina's damage was going to be of the same scope.
They're trying to wash us away.
They're trying to wash us away.
Six feet of water in the streets of Evangeline.
--Randy Newman We used to own a house on the beach front of the North Shore (between Eden Isles and Lacombe in St. Tammany Parish) and we lost a sailboat we had at Long Beach and a bay-fishing boat dry-docked at Venice, the best access to the Chandeleurs and Grand Gossier. It's no big deal when so many people lost their only homes; and, yes, there's too much of a similarity between that earlier time and this one when poor people were/are the most affected.

The Mississippi River will get its way, though. It always has. In the nineteenth century it was threatening to break through into the Atchafalaya Basin, which, by the way, was where it has alternately debouched since time immemorial. People's memories are too short, even when we aren't completely ignorant; and sometimes our biggest downfalls are wanting to control nature too much. Barry said it better, I'm sure. I want to reread Rising Tide.

Carolyn, it's a good thing I reread threads; because I didn't catch your post previously. She Walks These Hills is the McCrumb book I read, and I was quite taken with it. My knowledge of Appalachia is very limited, but most everything I have read about it has appealed greatly. I will get If Ever I Return, Pretty Peggy O for my next McCrumb. Have you read James Still's River of Earth? If so, what do you think of it? It's not a mystery, of course, but is it particularly evocative for folks who really know the region and times?

I've read one Martha Grimes: The Lamorna Wink. I don't think I've read any of Elizabeth George.

Carolyn, that is my favorite McCrumb, too. I love the moral questions it examines and confess to being non-plussed by my satisfaction with the ending. I brought up She Walks These Hills because the one plot line has the historical mystery aspect to it. The Ballad of Frankie Silver does, too, of course, but that is my least favorite of the novels. Have I mentioned that my cousin, a former prosecutor in East Tennessee, once told me her boss insisted that all the non-native attorneys read Sharyn McCrumb to get a feel for the kinds of people they would be dealing with and to get beyond the Appalachian stereotype?

Frieda, forgive, please, my mischaracterization of your relationship with The Novel.

I haven't read the James Still book but will put it on my list (as if I need more). Thanks.

Hi Frieda. Without being at all presumptuous it seems to me that you want from an historical novel exactly what I want - a tale well told. A tale that holds together both internally with a consistent voice and externally with some regard to that slipperiest of ideas - historical accuracy.
It would be a trifle disingenuous of me to say that I care not a jot for the integrity of the historical framework that underpins a novel. I think I just allow the novelist a little more leeway than you in terms of the elasticity of the "facts" he might cobble his little tale together with. Of course egregious errors in the retelling of indisputable
history will bring a novel tumbling down for me as much for you - perhaps we just differ in the definition of "egregious".
Further to your dislike of "presentism" I suggest you never pick up Steven Pressfield's Gates of Fire . Just finished reading this examination of Spartan society and the Battle of Thermopylae where three hundred plus Spartans plus a few thousand allies held off a Persian army of some hundreds of thousands, inflicting grievous losses and giving Greece time and inspiration to save itself and perhaps western civilization as we know it.
Perhaps your mention of your own concept of "presentism" made me hyper aware of any examples in the text but it was riddled with it. Battle plans develop "new wrinkles", soldiers imbibe "snootfulls of wine", are exhorted to "dump 'em but be ready to hump'em" when they rest their shields. Despite speaking in a declamatory and formal style worthy of Homer most of the time and engaging in lengthy, philosophical conversations about the Gods and true meaning of courage, fear, love and warfare the Greeks at various times decide that a priest is "full of s--t", the enemy are a bunch of "d--k strokers" and "a-- f-----s"". In fact the "f" word is dropped so many times at times it reads like a novel of modern army barracks life.
Worth reading for the battle scenes alone - I'm a sucker for blood and guts - but nearly ruined as a novel for me by that newly defined mortal sin of historical tomes - "presentism". Thank you Frieda. Larry

Larry, have you read Victor Davis Hanson's A War Like No Other? He uses recent history to give perspective on the Peloponnesian War. I first discovered him while watching a History Channel video on Thermopylae.

Anyhow, while I hate modern sensibilities in historical novels, I'm OK with contemporary slang. How else to depict what must be a usual soldierly behavior? I guess he could have done it the same way Hemmingway did in For Whom the Bell Tolls but frankly I found that to be distracting - more so than actual bad language would have been.

Here is a link that might be useful: A War Like No Other

Hi Chris. Even if I were to put aside the slang no matter how jarring it was coming from soldiers spending most of their time declaiming solemnly about Zeus, Aphrodite, sundry gods and engaging in discussions worthy of Oxford Dons on the true nature of courage etc.etc. it's the author himself who is guilty of some of the most extreme "timeslips". Besides the "wrinkles" in plans and numerous other modernisms too numerous to mention sometimes he can't seem to make up his mind whether he's in Ancient Greece or Regency England as the Greeks prepare for battle like "dandies preparing for a dress ball" or Victorian London full of "grogshops" and "houses of ill-fame".
Despite being hailed as a "work of genius", "breathtaking", "brilliant" and "worthy of Homer" Gates of Fire could have done with a bloody good editor and some proof reading. At one point just before the culminating battle the unofficial Greek mascot a "sheepdog female" ( the anti-obscenity filter wouldn't let me use the "B" word) called Styx chases down a rabbit between the drawn up lines of the two armies. The Persians symbolically kill "him" with arrows and the poor hound having suffered a sudden sex change during the chase expires casting a last long suffering look into the eyes of "his" master.
I enjoyed the novel and wouldn't normally engage in fault finding to this degree but Frieda's - justified - complaints of inconsistencies in historical novels made me hyper vigilant about such examples in the book I was reading. I doubt I'll be able to shake off such vigilance in a hurry.
Haven't read any of Hanson Chris but with my interest in the Ancient Greeks now awakened may seek him out. Larry.

My favourite 'goof' is where a character lost a limb and immediately regained it in the next chapter!
I cannot recall the book, not surprising!
I sometimes catch mistakes about dogs, having been a breeder...
As has been noted, it is generally in one's own area of experience that mistakes are noticable.

Frieda, I was just reading John Updike's review of 'The Confessions of Max Tivoli' for the April discussion, and came across the following, which seems hugely appropriate to this thread:
"What Henry James, himself now part of the past and available as a theme-park exhibit, breathlessly called the "palpable present intimate that throbs responsive" is pointedly neglected in favor of what he called "mere escamotage . . . the little facts that can be got from pictures and documents, relics and prints." All fiction, insofar as it derives from the writerÂs memories, is historical in a sense; but a reader who has hearkened to Henry James enters guardedly ingeniously reconstructed worlds that ceased to exist before the author was born. A circumstantiality assembled of little documentary facts can feel flimsy, offering less resistance to enchantment than an unsifted environment clumsily pressing all around us."