Winged with Death – John Baker

At the start of this novel, our narrator Ramon Bolio, previously known as Frederick Boyle tells us that he is starting to write his autobiography.  He begins at the age of eighteen, when in 1972 he jumped ship in Uruguay and then embarked on his early adult life in Montevideo.  Soon, he meets and is taken in by Julio who immediately renames him as Ramon Bolio.  1972 is his new beginning in a country where he does not speak the language and neither does he know it well; it's a country on the brink of dictatorship and with an active resistance movement.  It's a country where people go missing, are tortured and are killed.

His autobiography is not a straightforward chapter by chapter chronological account of his life either; it is cut through with matters of the present day, as if Ramon is chatting with the reader as he goes along.  And if the past environment was not bad enough, his present day is also not running smoothly.  His writing is interrupted by his younger brother Stephen who is fretting because his step-daughter Hannah has gone missing.  Ramon rushes into reassurance mode as Hannah has done this before.  But it's not too long before the police are called in.  With Stephen and his wife not being the brightest, and also suffering the loss of Hannah, Ramon serves as their protector and advocate during proceedings.

Back in Montevideo, Ramon discovers the tango and he works to become a Milonguero, a master of the dance.  Throughout the novel, references to what a good tango should be serve as metaphors for life and in particular, how Ramon's life is shaped over the years, based on his experiences in Uruguay.  As a narrator, there is an initial eerie feel to Ramon, a sense of not really knowing him as he recalls being a cocky young man who also seems to have been prepared to be swept up by those he encountered.  It is not clear what he has learned and what is the core of him.  There is also a sense of detachment, as if Ramon, in his writing, is actually a spider on the wall, looking down on his life and directing the prose.

I tend to avoid the genre wars and to avoid the mention of "literary", but for me, this novel was more of the literary in nature, but with a mystery in one strand of the story.  It is rich with the description of life in a country rife with resistance and revolution, and it evokes the immense tension of the situation.  It pursues both the directly visceral and the intellectual (sometimes venturing into the realms of philosophy) in its prose.  Here are a couple of quotes to give you a feel for the novel:

• 'I don't want a child,' she said.  'It's the end.  Motherhood is measuring your days in fluids – tears, blood, milk, spew and piss.

• The dress was black and elegant with a long full skirt, Empire line, made of soft chiffon with strappy lacing in the back, and Florencia was a lump in it.

It is simply too hard – call it impossible – to say what this novel achieves without giving the plot away.  Essentially, it is a story of finding manhood in a country at risk, in a culture at risk, when life could prove to be all too short and the experience of life matters more than at any other time or place.  In Ramon: what makes the man?  And what did he learn of life?  He certainly learned the tango and how it reflects on life, but how does his inner core direct him in later life?  Obviously, you would have to read the novel to find out.

John Baker has written a good evocative and also provocative novel with Winged with Death.

Winged with Death by John Baker (Flambard Press) is available now.

This review has also appeared onEurocrime.

Angel on the Inside – Mike Ripley

My apologies for this very late post, but I am now continuing with the Welsh theme.

At the Faber Crime Party last year, I met Mike Ripley, he of the wickedly funny Shotsmag Gossip Column and a series of award-winning and highly-regarded comic crime novels centring on Fitzroy Angel McLean.  "Try out Angel on the Inside", said Mike, "It has my take on the Welsh". Having had such a laugh talking to him that evening, I did.  The tip-off came at a good time too, as I lost my beloved cat, Oscar, only a couple of weeks later. I needed to find the lighter side of life again and I found that in Angel on the Inside, where I also learned to "Laugh Out Loud" (LOL).

The Earth Hums in B Flat – Mari Strachan

Canongate recently sent me some books.  Then I contacted them, asking for this one.  I'd become aware of it and thought it might be just up my street.  I was born in the early 1960s in south Wales and thought I might relate.  The Earth Hums in B Flat is the tale of 12.5 year old Gwenni Morgan's coming of age in a small and close community in north Wales in the 1950s.  But it's more than that too.  It involves some detection, as Gwenni wants to be a detective when she grows up and she loves detective fiction.  Her home town proves to be fertile ground when Ifan Evans goes missing, later to be found, dead, near the reservoir and Baptism Pool.  Her life is not easy as her "Mam" suffers from "nerves" – possibly inherited – and Mam favours her elder daughter Bethan over Gwenni, every time.  Gwenni's view on life and investigations are cut through with an innocence and the naivety of someone younger and that is my only small criticism.  But I arrived at the 12.5 years of age almost, possibly up to twenty years later, so perhaps I am wrong with this thought.

What I will say with assurance – and I make no apologies for being so effusive here – Mari Strachan has, with The Earth Hums in B Flat, created a perfect evocation of Welsh life for that time.  There is sense of constant worry about what the neighbours might think and being on best behaviour.   There are the dressed-up-in-Sunday-best trips to chapel and later, afternoon Sunday School for the children.  (In the novel the children delightfully get away with far more unruly behaviour than we did in mine in the 60s.)  There are the chapel-organised cultural outings with transport by charabanc.  The names are spot on, including the link to occupation, characteristic or status: Mad Huw; Sergeant Jones and Mrs Sergeant Jones; Nanw Lipstick; Mrs Davies Chapel House; The Voice of God; Jones the Butcher.  (Where I came from we had Batty Bevan, Dunning the Milk and Adams the Coal…)  There is the worry and avoidance of things unknown or misunderstood, particularly in the context of mental health issues.  There is the ritual of Sunday lunches: always a roast and often followed by a rice pudding (which needs to be thick and not watery).  There is the closeness of local community, but above all, the closeness and loyalty of family.  There is the aspiration of having a decent kitchen and bathroom indoors, something my own parents had achieved by the time I came along, although I do possess a picture of me in a tin bath, as a baby.

The Black Monastery – Stav Sherez

It is said that you should write about what you know and this is something I agree with, having read some inadequately researched plot points in novels where I have better knowledge than the author.  But I'll also admit to a tendency to groan when I read that a crime novel involves a writer or writers, or more specifically a crime fiction writer.  I imagine "boring".  The first time I shot myself down in flames on this was on reading John Colapinto's About the Author, which proved to be a very fine novel.  There have been similar occasions since, but I still held my prejudices and innate ability to groan.  Now, this year, up comes Stav Sherez's The Black Monastery from Faber which features a case to solve, a copper, an established crime fiction writer, and an ambitious "would-be" crime writer, all on the fictional Greek island of Palassos, which is hell rather than paradise unless experienced under the influence of a legal or illegal substance, in which case hell and the users' own creation of hell is not appreciated.

So, yes, I did groan, but then I started reading and had another Colapinto experience x 3 or so: The Black Monastery is a fine addition to the canon of UK written crime fiction and is a great read.  It's deftly plotted and another of those novels in which the setting also becomes a character.