Reading report 2: ‘Children of Ash and Elm,” by Neil Price

Ever see one of those old comedy movies, set in the Middle Ages or sometime, in which the orchestra suddenly breaks into swing music and everybody starts jitterbugging? (I recently watched “A Knight’s Tale” for the first time, and they did the same sort of thing , with different pop music. I fear this will not age well.)

I had much the same feeling today as I was reading Neil Price’s generally excellent book, Children of Ash and Elm. In a chapter called “Border Crossings,” he takes a break from a mostly well-informed and insightful study of Viking Age history to impose 21st Century concepts on an alien culture.

There are clear suggestions of queer identities in the Viking Age (with a caveat for the retrospective application of contemporary vocabularies).

Give him points for self-awareness, anyway. Retrospective application is precisely what’s going on here. I speak from a position of prejudice, of course, but it saddened me to see a good study like this marred by what I consider (I could be wrong, of course) a transient intellectual fad.

In fact (except for the admittedly problematic Grave Bj. 581 in Birka, which I can’t explain, but neither can anyone else), he is able to demonstrate nothing about the Vikings themselves other than that they had an extremely “gendered” (his word), male-dominated culture, in which there is evidence of a certain amount of deviance. You could say the same about the Victorians. He admits it plainly at one point, saying, “There are no positive depictions of same-sex relationships in the textual sources.”

To put it in terms comprehensible to current academics, Price is “appropriating” Viking culture, forcing his own paradigm on them in a way that they would have found offensive.

Friday Quartet: Memory by Marcelo Zarvos

I wasn’t finding what I wanted from a barbershop quartet today, but I did come across this recording from the 2013 Fischoff National Chamber Music Competition. It’s saxophone quartet playing “Memory” from a set written by Marcelo Zarvos for a string quartet. Here you see soprano, alto, tenor, and baritone saxophones played at a breathless pace by the Kenari Quartet of Indiana University, Bloomington.

Reading report: ‘Children of Ash and Elm,’ by Neil Price

After a couple weeks with Rodney Riesel’s light – and short – Dan Coast books, I have plunged (with some relief, actually) into a little more challenging material. I’m reading Children of Ash and Elm: A History of the Vikings, by Neil Price. It’s a long book, and it will take me a while to get to the point where I can review it. I’m finding it a good object to wrestle with – I like parts very much, and I disagree now and then. Here’s a nice passage from near the beginning:

When properly recited in appropriate surroundings, Viking-Age poetry can taste like cold iron on the tongue, its complex rhyme schemes building upon one another like layers of frost—treacherous but beautiful. We gain something old and true in this language, even if only understood in translation, and for that reason I have included a selection here.

Tolkien would have liked bit that very much. Even if you disagree with a historian, prose like this can make reading his book worth your time.

‘Most Likely To Die,’ by Rodney Riesel

The saga of Dan Coast, Rodney Riesel’s self-destructive, alcoholic lottery winner living in Key West, continues with Most Likely To Die, in which Dan tries to clear a man unjustly accused of murder. Unless Dan is wrong. Which he often is.

Dan Coast doesn’t like the nurse Reatha Davis. She spoke condescendingly to him once, and corrected his grammar. But she works with Dan’s girlfriend Maxine, and Maxine likes her. So when Reatha asks Dan to find evidence to clear her husband, who’s been arrested for murder, Dan reluctantly agrees. Her husband, Reatha says, is a good man and had no enemies. And neither did his old friend, a schoolmate, who was murdered. Dan figures nobody gets murdered if they have no enemies, so he’s pretty sure somebody’s lying.

With the help of his ever-expanding posse, his big friend Rick, his surfer dude friend Skip, and now his childhood hero, astronaut Kip Larson, Dan runs around annoying people and interfering in the police investigation. Eventually they’ll figure it out, but only by crossing some legal lines.

I think I’m beginning to weary of Dan Coast’s act. The books are fast, and they have some laughs, but they’re not well-written (this one brings in a character from a previous book at one point, then forgets about him completely). They’ve never quite found their balance between comedy and tragedy, but this one was pretty much farce from the git-go. And not very believable.

Still, I won’t pretend it wasn’t fun. I’ve got something more serious to read now, but I may go back to Dan Coast when I need to rest my brain. Cautions for language and juvenile humor.

‘Double Trouble,’ by Rodney Riesel

Book 5 in the Dan Coast series by Rodney Riesel is Double Trouble. Dan starts out doing a divorce case with the help of his friend Red (who still has to drive him around until he gets his license back after a DUI). They are discovered snooping, and have to make tracks.

Then Dan’s dog finds a body buried in the sand in front of his Key West house. Dan calls the police, but leaves the scene, and when the cops get there the body has vanished.

That mystery is explained (partly) when a man shows up looking for his missing sister. He had come to the Keys with his twin brother, who has also disappeared. Dan recognizes him as the spitting image of the guy in the sand. The surviving brother hires Dan to help him find the sister.

I keep complaining about the writing in the Dan Coast series, but then I keep buying the books. So they can’t be that bad. I still have some trouble with the tone – it alternates between buffoonery and deep tragedy. Often the characters don’t seem to be realistically affected by death, even deaths of people close to them. Author Riesel seems to have trouble hitting any notes in between Bottom and Othello. It can be disorienting for the reader.

Also, the big surprise in the book was kind of a chestnut. I saw it coming a mile off.

But I’m continuing reading the series. Cautions for language, inappropriate jokes, and misspelling.

‘Coasts of Christmas Past,’ and ‘Ship of Fools,’ by Rodney Riesel

Dan yanked his pistol from his waistband, ejected the magazine from the grip, and looked at the bullets. Then he jammed the magazine back into place with the palm of his hand.

“What was that for?” Red asked.

“I have no idea, but they always do it on TV.”

(Coasts of Christmas Past)

I’m just tooling along through Rodney Riesel’s Dan Coast novels, because they’re short, mostly likeable, and not too demanding. I’ll do two books tonight – Coasts of Christmas Past and Ship of Fools.

Dan Coast, Key West lottery winner and dilettante private investigator, aims for a life of quiet self-destruction on the beach, drinking heavily to suppress memories of his great personal loss. However, in Coasts of Christmas Past, his friend Red and his parents have different plans. His parents show up unexpectedly, organizing a big Christmas for him, whether he wants one or not. Christmas was once his favorite time of the year. But that was before…

The preparations get interrupted when a close friend gets injured. The police believe he was hurt in a botched drug deal, but Dan and Red know better than that. So they ride to the rescue in Red’s borrowed pink Volkswagen. There’s also a touching subplot in this book that will break your heart.

Ship of Fools finds Dan where he’s been headed for some time – confined in a mental hospital, drying out at a judge’s orders. That’s how he gets to know “Officer Mel,” a fellow patient who wears a cardboard badge and thinks he’s a policeman. Nobody believes Mel when he says that somebody has kidnapped his sister, but Dan starts to think there’s something there. So, ruthlessly using his money and snooping skills, he orchestrates his own release and takes Mel with him. Thus begins a madcap adventure with some interesting twists.

I liked the serious aspects of these stories better than the humor. Humor is hard to do, especially the wisecracking kind. One expects drunks to be inappropriate, but even when he’s sober, Dan can be a real jerk. On the other hand, when he gets his priorities straight, he can be a pretty good guy.

The author still needs a proofreader.

Mild cautions for language and adult themes. Good light entertainment, if you can get through the annoying parts.

Friday Singing: Little Patch of Heaven

I think I said something about being one of the busy people during the lockdown days. Yesterday was one of those days. You could say I was longing for a little patch of heaven way out west, but you and I both know owning an acre or more of land on the frontier wouldn’t be an easy life. Maybe rewarding, maybe fortune building, but it would be a hard, daily life of somewhat undefined chores and taking risks you hope will pay off.

Still, we can dream.

‘Ocean Floors,’ by Rodney Riesel

Rodney Riesel is in no danger of soon winning any major prizes for his prose. But so far I’m enjoying his somewhat uneven Dan Coast mysteries, set in Key West. Ocean Floors is the second.

Dan Coast is an unusual hero in that he’s a lottery winner, but his greatest distinction would seem to be that he’s a degenerating alcoholic. Many chapters begin with him waking in a chair – or even on the ground – after a night-long bender. He has reasons for drinking. This might well alienate readers, though Dan can be admirable when he’s on his game.

Ocean Floors begins with Dan driving north to Miami. He stops for lunch at a roadside bar and grill, where he observes the thuggish bartender bullying a waitress. It’s none of his business, but when he gets back to his decrepit Porsche he finds the waitress huddled in it, pleading with him to take her away. His chivalry kicks in, so they zoom off together.

He soon discovers that this is no mousy little waitress. Also, the bartender was no bartender, but somebody Dan has heard of, somebody very dangerous to cross. As the seductive girl worms her way into his affections, a series of crimes begin, including murder and kidnapping. Dan and his big buddy Red will get in very nearly over their heads.

Author Riesel would profit from a good copy editor, or at least a subscription to Grammarly. He is prone to homophone confusions. I thought he handled the humorous banter slightly better this time out than in the last book, but he’s still learning on the job.

One very intriguing addition here is his neighbor across the street, an old lady named Edna McGee. We are told that Edna is the widow of a “marine salvage expert” in Fort Lauderdale who died in the 1980s. Obviously, we are intended to believe this is the wife of the late Travis McGee. I never knew Travis ever got married, but I kind of like having Edna in the stories, though she’s only a tertiary character so far.

Not great literature, the Dan Coast books are fun to read, so far. I think I’ll keep on with them until I get my mind changed. Cautions for language and mature themes.

‘Welcome to Nowhere,’ by Caimh McDonnell

Nothing else was said, but Reed and Smithy continued to lock eyes. If you tossed a raw chicken between the pair, it would have cooked before it hit the ground.

Well, this one was weird. Caimh McDonnell’s novels are all weird, marked as they are by Wodehouseian comic diction and bizarre character surprises. But Welcome to Nowhere takes it all to the next level.

The hero of Welcome to Nowhere is Smithy, a little person, what we used to call a m*dget (and don’t call him that, because he has strong feelings on the subject). If you’ve read McDonnell’s books about Bunny McGarry in America, you’ve already met him. Smithy works as a cab driver and sometimes an actor in New York City. He’s also sometimes a gambler. Recent losses in that quarter led him to take a demeaning job as a “leprechaun” in a stupid “leprechaun hunt” sponsored by a rich jerk named Reed. Some time later, he comes up with a “brilliant” plan to get his revenge on Reed. His plan goes spectacularly wrong when an apparent ninja assassin breaks into Reed’s apartment the same night Smithy sneaks in. Listening (under protest) to a voice in his head (possibly God’s, though he doubts it) which has been annoying him since he suffered a brain injury a while back, Smithy saves Reed’s life.

If you think that will earn him any gratitude, you don’t know Reed, who is about the worst person you can imagine. Except that even worse people will appear when Reed extorts Smithy and his friend Diller, a struggling, personable actor, into getting involved in an even crazier competition. And that competition turns out to be something out of a Mad Max movie, played out in a secret desert location. It will take a lot of creativity, and some luck, plus some unexpected allies, to get out of a post-apocalyptic fantasy come alive.

Welcome to Nowhere was a funny and creative book. I didn’t like it as much as I liked most of McDonnell’s others, because I don’t much care for this kind of story. But it had a lot of laughs, and was full of left-field surprises. Fair warning – it ends with a sort of a cliff-hanger.

Welcome to Nowhere is brilliant of its kind. I’ll probably even read the next one. Cautions for language and mature (and immature) themes.

‘Sleeping Dogs Lie,’ by Rodney Riesel

Believe it or not, I’ve got yet another beach bum private eye for you today. Rodney Riesel’s Sleeping Dogs Lie is the first in the Dan Coast mystery series. Not quite professional quality stuff, but promising.

Dan Coast lives in a house on the beach in Key West. He doesn’t need to work, and most of the time he stays drunk. Years ago, he had a moment of tremendous good luck, followed shortly by a moment of tremendous tragedy that left him cynical and demoralized. He keeps a dog with whom he has a love/hate relationship, something that is eventually explained to the reader.

However, from time to time, as a favor to friends, he investigates mysteries. In Sleeping Dogs Lie, an attractive woman comes to him and asks him to find her missing boyfriend. Shortly thereafter she disappears herself. With the help of his dangerous friend Ray, he hunts for the answer.

Sleeping Dogs Lie provided an enjoyable story. Like so many fictional detectives, Dan Coast is unaccountably attractive to women (though sometimes, he admits, they have ulterior motives). He engages in a lot of banter, especially with Red, but sometimes with his dog. Sometimes the banter works, but fictional banter involves a delicate touch. Now and then it gets heavy-handed. Sometimes the tone of the prose doesn’t match the seriousness of the action. Still, there’s promise here, and I’ll probably read the second book.

Cautions for language and mature situations.