A word of explanation - writing and maintaining a site like this
allows someone like
me a certain degree of freedom in expressing a few thoughts and
views on crime
fiction
and associated matters, which I make no bones about using. Indeed,
vanity publishing
is one of the side-effects of the 'information revolution'.
However, I'm certainly
not
trying to antagonise anyone, just nattering vaguely about things
that I think are
important. Feel free to let me know any views you might have, but
I'm afraid I won't
be drawn into any protacted, vicious fights over this kind of
thing. Hopefully, that
opportunity will never arise, so I hope you enjoy the following
bits and pieces. (By
the way, if you want to put any pieces of writing on this page, I'd
be more than
willing to 'publish' them for you, so just let me know.)
A few words are in order, I think, since this site has undergone a few changes of late. Regular visitors (if there
are any, that is) may have noticed the recent hiatus whilst I finished my doctoral thesis. Thankfully, that ordeal is
now behind me (you can even read the abstract if you want) and I have a little more time
to spend on my favourite pastime, reading crime novels. Not to say, that is, I have been remiss in my reading: I came
very close to dedicating my thesis to Paul Doherty and Ed McBain... Anyway, the site now has a slightly jazzier look
(the wonders of Cosmocreate on an SGI...) and a few new bits and pieces, including a special on P.C. Doherty and his many aliases, and a short piece on my current favourites. The title has changed, whoever - although I still love the Travis McGee novels,
this site rapidly turned into something that concentrated far more on fiction from this side of the Atlantic. Plus,
'Scenes of Crime' hadn't been snapped up by someone else, and I can't resist a pun. Have a look around, enjoy
yourselves, and don't forget to tell me if you like the
site or not, either by guestbook. Have fun and good reading!
Well, I think that a few words are appropriate at this juncture in
time to try and
justify my expenditure of time, effort and bandwidth. Firstly, the
opportunity was
there - Fortune City were offering plenty of space for web pages.
Secondly, I was
rather bored and felt the need to something to occupy myself in the
odd spare moment.
Thirdly, I had the notion I might actually do something worthwhile
with all this free
space, rather than emulate some of the appalling pages I've seen
dotted around. And
lastly, I adore books, and the crime genre most of all, and felt I
could make a
contribution to those who share this love, by providing a source of
information,
views
and links. True, there are already many fine pages around the world
who I have spent
many happy hours reading, but I don't think there's an overflow of
information just
yet.
That having been said, I hope you enjoy reading these pages and
those linked to them,
and maybe find the odd suggestion that might lead you to enjoying
something you might
not have otherwise considered. In addition, if you think you have
any contributions
to
make to these pages, either in the form of constructive criticisms,
suggestions of
links, or even pieces for inclusion like reviews or commentaries,
I'd be delighted to
hear from you - just e-mail me at danstaines@postmaster.co.uk.
And lastly, why was it called 'The Busted Flush'? If you have to ask, why, shame
on you! Well, not
really, but this is a chance to say the odd word in support of one
of my favourite
crime writers, the late, great John D. Macdonald and his 'last of
the great knights
errant', Travis McGee, resident of the yacht 'The Busted Flush',
moored at Slip F-18,
Bahai Mar, Fort Lauderdale, Florida. When I was wandering around
Fortune City looking
for a free address, I found a nice spot in the Marina area, and the
rest followed
naturally. I'd never even heard of Travis McGee until the
coincidence of a
rec.arts.mystery conversation and the republication of the entire
series by the US
publisher Fawcett caused me to buy a couple on-spec in Covent
Garden's Crime In Store
whilst on one of my occasional forays to the Smoke. Put simply,
Macdonald created a
superb series full of terrific atmosphere, suspense and fascinating
characters, not
least McGee, one of the exemplars of the modern detective, flawed,
fascinating and
genuine. Simply one of the greats. Oh, and don't be put off by the
rather garish
covers - they actually look rather good as they begin to line up on
one's shelves.
By way of introduction to this piece considering the fictional
portrayal of England,
and indeed Great Britain as a whole, I should make clear that I am
writing from a
somewhat partisan point of view, being English by birth, upbringing
and education,
hailing from rural Cornwall and having lived in Dorset, Leicester
and Cambridge at
various stages. As such, I hope you will bear with any comments I
make that you might
disagree with, and consider this piece as a personal view rather
than a dispassionate
socialogical and/or literary essay, or indeed a jingoistic diatribe
at writing from
other nations. Additionally, this piece concerns England, rather
than Britain as a
whole, but again, not at the expense of Scottish and Welsh
writers.
There are many who would argue that England is the ancestral home
of crime fiction,
being the homeland of Conan Doyle and Collins, and of Christie,
Sayers, Allingham and
so many others of the so-called Golden Age of crime fiction,
bringing to mind sleepy
rural villages, cups of tea, aristocratic sleuths and high society.
This image has
persisted somewhat to this day, rather in the face of the fact that
England has
changed greatly, particularly since the war. While not wishing to
pour scorn on the
works of these writers, many of which are terrific examples of
crime fiction at its
best, particularly the much underrated Josephine Tey, I feel that a
reassessment of
this image is long overdue. Thankfully, the last twenty years has
seen a great
increase in crime fiction that takes place in a real England, with
notables such as
Val McDermid, John Harvey, Mike Ripley, Reginald Hill and Mark
Timlin. Hence, I'm
arguing from the point of view that England shouldn't be regarded
as some kind of
museum, and its crime fiction should represent this.
Although I don't particularly wish to categorise fiction rigidly, I
think I'm on
fairly safe ground when discussing the fiction of the twenties and
thirties and later
that makes up the canon of the Golden Age, exemplified by Christie,
Sayers and
Allingham, and will use this to compare to more modern settings.
Similar in flavour
to
their more recent relatives, the US 'cozy', Golden Age fiction has
a very definite
sense of time and place that it tends not to stray far from, with
an accompanying
view
of society and morality. Sex and violence are almost entirely
absent, which some
might
think a good thing, with murder and violent death becoming an
abstraction acting as
the basis for a type of intellectual puzzle whose resolution the
reader is permitted
to observe.
One of the most noticeable facets, at least to an English observer,
is the influence
of class structure, more rigid in the past than now, with the vast
majority of the
protagonists being members of the upper classes. Reading these
novels, particularly
Sayers, you gain the impression that only those fortunate enough to
be members of
this
privileged section of society are important, with members of other
classes being
frequently reduced to plot devices, although rarely being found to
be the villain of
the piece. One might argue that this is actually one of the more
appealing facets of
the genre, allowing a glimpse of a rarefied section of society, but
it tends to give
a
narrow perspective of the society. This approach also seems to
extend itself to how
these novels deal with police work, with the classic view of the
'bumbling plod' so
frequently apparent. Members of the police force were then, with
the exception of the
very highest echelons, drawn from the lower and middle classes, and
they exemplify
the
disdain felt for the 'trades'. Sleuths of this era, such as Wimsey
and Campion, often
tend to be 'gifted amateurs' of independent means, picking and
choosing cases at
their
leisure, and deigning to offer their advice to the obviously
confused, 'stumped'
police force. Another irritatingly frequent manifestation of this
is the portrayal of
resentful policemen, descendents of Inspector Lestrade, blustering
against this
intrusion, though this is by no means limited to this particular
genre.
The setting of these novels also offers a somewhat narrow view of
England in the
thirties, tending to be metropolitan or rural, rarely venturing
into the suburbs, the
industrial regions and so on. The view of London that is frequently
offered is a
world
far removed from reality, concentrating on the mileu of parties,
salons and flats in
Kensington. The portrayal of the rural setting so popular in the
classic 'country
house' mysteries is also removed from the real picture of life in
the country areas,
almost so far as to be insulting, particularly to one who has grown
up in rural
England and even sports the remnants of a West Country accent. The
country is turned
into the playground of the rich, a feudal setting of grand manors
and riding to
hounds. Local inhabitants are reduced to ciphers, with overdone
rustic accents ('Arr,
m'lord, it be a fine harvest this year'), touching their caps and
tugging their
forelocks for the inhabitants of the manor.
I'll admit that this is a rather exaggerated picture at times, but
the fact remains
that these novels repeatly offer an exceptionally narrow view of
society, which still
influences how people view this country. A beautiful setting for an
intellectual
problem, I'll admit, but not the only setting by any means. I must
however, repeat
that I have a great deal of respect of the quality of many novels
of this era, as
have
many. Still, a stereotype has been created, and its up to the new
breed of English
writers to right this, which they have without a doubt. To
paraphrase Raymond
Chandler's words about Dashiell Hammett in 'The Simple Art of
Murder', they have
taken
murder out of the Venetian vase and dropped it in the alley.
How has England changed, since then? Without wanting to go into a
sociological essay,
suffice it to say England has undergone immense changes since the
thirties,
especially
since the Second World War. Post-war reform and socialist rule and
the later
liberalising of society in the sixties and seventies have caused a
great blurring in
class boundaries, though they still exist to this day. Economic
changes and the loss
of Empire has changed the nature of Britain as a whole greatly.
Living conditions and
education have improved greatly for the lower echelons of society,
and as a
consequence more of the country has a say in its ruling and more
importantly, how
society works on a daily basis. The extraordinary decade of the
Eighties saw an even
greater change in our country, fueled in part by the rampant
capitalism of the
Thatcherite government. The poor have become even poorer, the rich
obscenely rich.
The
industrial economy has more or less collapsed, with the closure of
much heavy
industry
following the collapse of unionism, leaving a post-industrial
economy and an
uncertain
future. The National Health Service, a great leveller in many
respects, is close to
collapse. Urban areas have decayed, bringing drugs and violence
into contact with
many
city dwellers. Changes in agricultural policy have forced huge
changes upon the
countryside. Great Britain has become multicultural, with many
British born citizens
being of Asian or Afro-Carribean ancestry, and racism and racial
tension are rife
brought to bloody fruition in the riots of the eighties. The
conflict in Northern
Ireland spills over frequently onto the mainland, and the news is
full of sectarian
murders, bombings and the misdoings of the security forces. In
short, in many
respects, a more different world from that of the Golden Age could
not be imagined,
and with it, a new type of crime fiction has arisen.
As exemplifed by work such as John Harvey's Resnick novels, the
police occupy an
increasing section of this new genre, often relying still on
classic formulae, but
backed by an increasingly bleak view of an overstretched police
force barely holding
its own. The police force is frequently corrupt, or rife with
divisions and sexual
and
racial prejudices. Independent investigators, such as Timlin's Nick
Sharman, tend to
be more mercenary and professional, often embittered and cynical. A
new breed of
female investigators, led by Val McDermid's Mancunian Kate
Brannigan and Lisa Cody's
Anna Lee, have sprung up, perhaps following the lead of their
American cousins
Warshawski and Millhone. In short, as England comes to resemble the
US in miniature,
the US conventions of the hard-boiled investigator and the police
procedural have
arrived, but adapted seamlessly to the modern face of England.
Significantly, a different morality and view of the justice system
have arisen,
following the many instances of corruption and miscarriages of
justice. The police
are
often corrupt and the legal system riddled with politics and
injustice. Powerful
criminals, protected by their position or wealth, are frequently
the targets of
investigation, leading to a cynical view of the system. Morality
becomes blurred and
uncertain, with protagonists frequently committing crimes
themselves in order to undo
a perceived injustice.
This view is darker and more blurred than the clearly marked world
of the Golden Age,
and explores society and the modern English landscape on a great
number of levels.
The
portrayal of everyday life is starker and less rosy, and depictions
of sex and
violence are more graphic than before. Writers such as Mark Timlin,
John Harvey and
Sarah Dunant have brought to the genre a new, less comfortable view
of society.
However, the view is certainly not totally bleak and grim - a rich
vein of dark,
cutting humour runs through many novels, from R.D. Wingfield's
Inspector Frost
novels,
to the wonderfully funny Angel novels from Mike Ripley. The Angel
novels portray the
flipside of the dark image of urban life - Angel careers through
south London,
meeting
a huge variety of characters and situations that, whilst being
amusing or exciting,
are somehow totally believable. I look forward to anticipation to
how Angel finds
life
in Blair's brave new Britain...
Overall, these new writers are a welcome contribution to the world
of crime fiction,
helping to adjust the balance of settings, attitudes and characters
to one perhaps
more in line with the diversity of life in modern England. Although
the quality of
the
writing and story are paramount in judging fiction, the image that
has persisted for
so long is a disservice to this country and those who live here,
and while the canon
of classic crime fiction is something to be treasured, there is
certainly more to
life
than country houses and arsenic in the t ea.
Okay, I'll admit that the title of this little piece is probably
asking for trouble,
so I'll make my excuses now. For several years, I have been a keen
reader of the two
main Internet discussion groups concerning crime fiction, rec.arts.mystery and DorothyL. Also, for some time
I have found the
politics of such groups a continuing annoyance. For those of you
who haven't
encountered them, rec.arts.mystery is a Usenet newsgroup discussing
crime fiction in
general, and DorothyL is a listserv mailing list for discussing
crime fiction and is
also a forum for writers and fans alike. r.a.m tends to be somewhat
more catholic in
its approach, being broadly more international and dealing with
more diverse work
than
DorothyL, whilst DorothyL is definitely slanted to a vocal US
readership and the
genre
of 'cozy' and classic fiction. More importantly, DorothyL has a
very different
atmosphere to r.a.m. I'll doubtlessly be attacked for this in the
tradition which
some
DorothyL readers apparently cherish, but I'll continue
none-the-less. Although there
are some 3000 subscribers to DorothyL at time of writing, much of
the posting seems
to
be dominated by a small, extr e m ely vocal group of posters, who
create an
atmosphere
that frequently makes one think that you've invaded someone's front
room. Gossip,
chit-chat, pers onal messages and in-jokes make up a surprising
amount of the
postings, and many other newcomers to the list have expressed the
feeling that they
really aren't welcome.
Of course, the response to such comments has often been that 'of
course "newbies" are
welcome, don't be silly' but none-the-less, the feeling still
persists, and I always
feel slightly intimidated about posting. This is a great shame, I
feel, since much of
the posting is extremely interesting, and has persuaded me to try
fiction that I
otherwise might not have tried. This issue has recently come to the
fore, regarding
the departure of one Polly Whitney, writer and humourist, from the
list. (I hold Ms.
Whitney in quite some esteem - her novels are highly enjoyable, and
many of her
satiral postings on the genre are quite hilarious, possessing a
rare quality of
surrealism - click here for examples). She recently
fell victim to
carpal tunnel syndrome, and has briefly retired from the keyboard.
This prompted many
emotional farewells and exchanges of exclamations of mutual
admiration, to which one
previously silent poster responded that she was actually quite glad
Ms. Whitney had
gone, and that the list shouldn't be devoted so much to
personalities and gossip that
intimidated newcomers (though in slightly less well mannered
terms). This prompted,
besides rather unwarranted personal attacks on Ms. Whitney, much
heated debate on the
nature of the list, to which I think I might add a few observations
of my own.
Speaking as one who is not a member of the legendary (and perhaps
mythical) DorothyL
'clique', I have to say that the personal postings between the more
prominent posters
and rather arcane ramblings on American cuisine and the regional
definition of
pocketbook add very little to the discussion, and often detract
from its usefulness.
The worst off-topic threads of recent weeks have been raging, often
extremely
personal, arguments about obesity, smoking and political
correctness, which have
frequently been unpleasant to read. The tone of the list is
overwhelmingly American
at
times, despite an international readership, and this in itself is
often rather
intimidating to readers from other countries (NB: This is in no way
an attack on
Americans whatsoever....). The co-listowner, Kara Robinson (or
Dangermouse, as she is
freqently known...), frequently does sterling work in dragging the
discussion back to
vaguely related topics, but this really shouldn't need to be done.
Individual posters
should consider more what they're discussing before they post, and
take these
personal
or off-topic discussions to private e-mail. I think this should be
particularly true
in the case of the more prominent posters, who use the list make
comments between one
another, thus creating the (false) impression that the list is run
by and for the
benefit of a minority of posters. In this way, I hope, DorothyL can
become a more
useful and informative forum to discuss issues concerning crime
fiction and
writing.
When you come to consider modern British crime fiction, it becomes
immediately
obvious
that television is often instrumental the popularisation of
particular series and
characters, and is frequently responsible for forming the rather
narrow view of
British life (see above). They are also amongst the most successful
British TV
exports, with BBC, ITV and Channel 4 co-productions (often with
WGBH Boston, A&E and
the Australian ABC) often being produced with a view to export rath
er than domestic consumption. TV dramatisations vary greatly in
quality, and in
faithfulness to the original books, and this perhaps reflects the
great diffcult
ies often encountered in transferring mood and content from one
medium to the other.
Again, I make no apologies for putting across my own idiosyncratic
view of crime
fiction, and will talk about those series and novels I know well -
I'm afraid I have
very little to say on the subject of either US crime TV or Agatha
Christie
adaptations...
One of the most successful series of recent years, Granada's
'Inspector Morse', is
based on the excellent series of novels by Colin Dexter, and is an
excellent example
of TV adaptation at its bestThe series and the books both evoke
Oxford very well -
Books perhaps on the darker side of what is actually a major
industrial city,
compared
to TV series, whilst the series has tendency to go for the prettier
'dreaming spires'
shots of Oxford colleges on the whole. The series is buo
yed up by an excellent cast, namely John Thaw and Kevin Whately as
Morse and Lewis,
and generally intelligent scripts, either derived from novels, or
from original
scripts. Those derived from the novels tend to be a lot stronger
and less contrived,
particularly when you compare, say, 'Last Seen Wearing' to the
execrable 'Cherubim
and
Seraphim', except in cases like 'The Way Through The Woods' where
the scriptwriter
appears not to have actually read the original novel. Thankfully
this trend was
reversed in the excellent adaptation of 'The Daughters of Cain',
and I look forward
to
an adaptation of 'Death Is Now My Neighbour'.
One of the most interesting aspects is that of character
differences between the
novels and the series, and in particular how the character of Morse
has changed in
the
novels over time, which is not surprising given John Thaw's iconic
performance and
Dexter's close involvement in the series. If you compare the Morse
of 'The Daughters
of Cain' to the same character in, say, 'The Dead of Jericho', you
can see just how
much the character has mellowed, and just how similar Morse has
become to John Thaw's
portrayal. In the earlier novels, Morse is obnoxious, misogynistic,
lustful and often
irrational, and frequently behaves terribly towards the
long-suffering DS Lewis.
True,
the 'new' Morse is not one of life's sunnier characters, but he is
generally more
considerate, and more like a 'grumpy old man with a heart of gold'
than the
embittered
copper of the early novels, and certainly less likely to visit
strip-clubs with such
relish. Of course, this may be a natural mellowing of the
character, perhaps as
Dexter
has aged and changed, but the similarity to the Thaw persona is
astonishing. Lewis
too
has not gone
unscathed - quite the opposite. The Lewis of the earlier novels is
a Welshman, older
and more resigned than Kevin Whately's put-upon young Geordie, into
which Lewis
changes as time goes by. It certainly isn't a bad thing, by any
means, but I think
it
goes to show just how a successful adaptation can become the equal
of the novels, and
actually begin to add to and change the canon.
On the other hand, other adaptations are not as good, such as the
BBC's 'Dalziel &
Pascoe' based on the Reginald Hill novels - this is an excellent
literal
representation, and Warren Clarke makes a superb Dalziel, but the
series is somewhat
lacking in spirit compared to the novels, and somehow fails to
communicate of lot of
Hill's subtleties. Mind you, this is highly preferable to the
appalling 'Pinch of
Snuff', produced by ITV some years back, starring Norman Hale and
Gareth Pace
(alleged
comedians) as Dalziel and Pascoe. The less said the better.
Other series take a pre-existing series and alter it, sometimes
quite substantially,
for TV, often not capturing the spirit of the original, but
creating something quite
different. Inspector Frost is a prime example - the books by R.D.
Wingfield are very,
very dark - Denton is a grim, cold, rainy town, and Frost is a
utterly contemptible
character. Lecherous, grotesque, insensitive, lazy and with very
few redeeming
qualities, apart from a shrewd mind at the right time, though
frequently he nearly
destroys a case with his incompetence - Frost is a true comic
monster, and yet
strangely sympathetic. The series, 'A Touch of Frost', on the other
hand, has a
immediately more sympathetic portrayal of Frost, played by the
excellent David Jason
-
Frost is a slightly grumpy, dour old man, and generally is a lot
brighter, shrewder,
friendlier and more likeable than the literary Frost, and Denton is
correspondingly
less dark. Although there is this great departure from the novels,
the series is
likeable and engaging, and Jason is a joy to watch.
Similarly, the Lovejoy played by Ian McShane is a much more
charming, likeable,
honest character than his literary counterpart in the Jonathon Gash
novels - much
more
of a charming rogue, and Tinker is a loveable old duffer rather
than the drunken,
unkempt character of the books. This is a trend that seems quite
frequent amongst
adaptations, both on TV and in the cinema, presumably as not to put
off viewers, or
more importantly advertisers, and I think its a shame at times,
though frequently the
TV character can, with luck, be equally engaging.
Hamish Macbeth, on the other hand, an example where a lousy series
of novels has
become a superlative show! I originally read one of the books on a
complete whim, and
thought it reasonable, though clcihed. I read more of them, and
have come to the
conclusion that M.C. Beaton is really not a very good writer at
all, and produces
some
of the most stereotyped, charmless and least appealing characters I
have ever read.
With the excception of Hamish, who is a character with some nous
about him, the rest
of the characters in Beaton's novels tend to be cardboard cutout
caricatures, and
with
the least attractive character traits ever. However, I accidentally
stumbled across
BBC Scotland's adaptation of the series, which was quite simply
superb. Written and
directed by Danny Boyle (director of Shallow Grave and
Trainspotting, enfant terrible
of British cinema) and starring Robert Carlyle (notable for playing
the psychotic
Begbie in Trainspotting and the disturbed, violent Albie in the
Cracker episode 'To
Be
A Somebody'), the series only retains the title, setting and lead
character from the
original novels, and instead creates a superb cast of characters
and a somewhat
whimsical, blackly funny atmosphere. Carlyle excels as Hamish,
giving the character a
gentle outlook on life, but with just enough edge to give Hamish
life. He is backed
by
a fine array of characters, from the gentle TV John to the
nefarious Lachy and Lachy
Jr. The script is funny, touching and at times extremely exciting,
culminating with
the surreal, mystical double episode involving the Stone of Scone.
Superb.
You can see from all this, that some novels adapt very well to the
screen, whilst
others don't tend to 'take' at all - why is this so? Well, you
might say that a
successful adapataion, capturing the spirit of the original piece,
takes an extremely
talented screenwriter, and doubtless this is true, abut I also
think it is true that
many styles of writing depend very much on internal narration or
stream-of-conciousness to build up a picture of the surroundings
and events, and the
motivation of the characters, which can be diffcult to subtly
portray on screen
without some kind of crude device like a voice-over or an
all-too-obviously forced
conversation between two characters to fill the viewer in. Time is
also a concern,
with a three hundred page novel condensed to less than two hours of
television,
requiring often quite drastic cuts and condensation. However,
television can also be
incredibly subtle at communicating image and nuance to the viewer,
accomplishing with
a two second shot or piece of incidental music what might take
paragraphs to subtly
establish in a novel. In short, both are very different mdeia, and
both require a
very
a talented individual to create a believable image and distinct
atmosphere without
descending into staginess and crude imagery. At its best,
television adpatations take
the spirit of the original and combine it with enough plot detail
and character
background to quickly and subtly communicate to us the key elements
of the novel.
So, as we can readily see, TV adaptation is really a bit of a
curate's egg, and
certainly varies greatly, sometimes losing a lot of character that
a particular book
has, but also gaining or adding to existing notions. One thing I
might add is that
Britain is perhaps fortunate in having a very small TV output, only
having 5 channels
(and one of them you can probably discount) and several television
and production
companies committed to high-quality drama without pandering to
perceived
viewer/advertiser tastes, and as a result, British crime fiction,
already exceptional
at times, has been popularised to a great extent around the world.
Of course, a lot
of
the time successful series like Morse help to perpetuate the
popular concept of Theme
Park Britain, but increasingly, with series like Sharman and the
sadly defunct
Resnick, one might hope that British crime fiction TV series will
gradually move
towards the broader spectrum and point-of-view that their literary
counterparts have
already reached.
Let me get this straight from the start - I make no apologies for
this article
whatsoever, and happily acknowledge it as a paean of delight about
a wonderful new
discovery. So, what exactly is Crime Time? (or CT, as its editors
now prefer) Well,
CT
is a relatively new magazine devoted to various aspects of crime
fiction, from the
written word to TV, audio and cinema, and since it is a UK
publication, UK crime
writers feature heavily. It covers a very broad range of topics,
including many
in-depth interviews (thankfully not the anodyne publicity fluff
that seems so common)
with an immense variety of writers and others, carries articles of
interest on little
known or obscure writers or films, and of course carries the
obligatory (and
extensive) reviews section. Additionally, each issue is a special
feature, with a
number of articles on a particular theme. For instance, this month
is 'Its Grim Up
North', carrying articles on the classic British noir, Get Carter,
the Mancunian club
scene writer Nick Blincoe, and the City of Crime compendium,
comprising stories set
in
Nottingham. This clutch of articles sits alongside articles about
'pulps', New
Zealand
writers and interviews with Charles Willeford and Joseph Waumbaugh.
I'm not sure how
much I like the themes, and sometimes they seem a little stretched,
but there are
frequently many excellent articles besides the themed ones.
Without a doubt, Crime Time is the best crime magazine available in
the UK at the
moment, not least because of its extensive range of articles about
very different
writ
er s, but also because of its particular tone. It seems to have
been put together by
people who really love what they write about, and this comes across
in the articles,
interviews, reviews and editorials. It is also very nice, getting
most of my crime
fiction info from a US dominated Internet, to find out whats
happening in the world
of
UK crime fiction. Parochial? You bet, but I love it anyway. Oh, and
the frequent free
books are a definite bonus.
Okay, now for some free publicity (well, the buggers at Fortune
City have put huge
banners at the top of my page, so I don't see why I can't advertise
a national
treasure...) You can get Crime Time from a decent bookshop (I buy
mine in Heffers of
Cambridge, but I think Waterstones carries it) - if you can't get
it, badger your
bookshop relentlessly until they give in - this magazine really
needs all the sales
it
can get. If you have problems, here's the address - Crime Time. PO
Box 5880,
Birmingham B16 8JF, United Kingdom. The e-mail seems to be
crimmo@aol.com. Don't
forget to tell 'em I sent you...
Update! Those nice folks at Crime Time have let me know that they
now have a website,
in the throes of construction at the moment, but looking promising
- its at http://www.crimetime.demon.co.uk/.
Check
it out, and don't forget to place your subscription!
D.S. 04/08/1997
Legalese & tiny print: All material copyright 1997
Daniel M. Staines.
Reproduction by any means without permission strictly prohibited
except for personal
or academic use.
