Gaudy Night by Dorothy L. Sayers


[rating=5] Narrated by Ian Carmichael.

Don’t discount Gaudy Night as just another work of genre fiction. It is far more than a mystery novel with romantic aspects, or a romance with a bit of investigation on the side. It is a thoughtful meditation on gender roles, work and progress; a deep exploration of scholarship and university life, and the challenge of reconciling love and relationships with feminist principles. Brilliant.

Indeed, it’s a hard sell as a mystery/romance, defying most genre conventions. Crime but no corpses. Romance but no kisses. It should be dry as a bone, but wonder of wonders, it’s bursting with life.

In fact, it’s home to one of the best dates EVER, the source of many personal dreams and fancies. Imagine yourself punting on the river, exchanging idyllic pleasantries followed by a nap, then roaring around Oxford in a fast car; a pub lunch where you both enjoy a half-pint; your man offers to show you self-defense moves in a field, so you spend an hour throwing one another to the ground and forcing submission holds on one another, hair curling with steam, bodies straining, breath coming fast… Then to lighten the mood he gives you a DOG COLLAR to increase your safety (protection against strangulation) and your fashion sense. Then, enhancing the joke gift with a real one, he buys you an ancient and expensive ivory chess set and challenges another man to a duel for your honour while at the antiques shop. DREAMY.

Sayers draws great caricatures as always, this time of brash American academics abroad, stressed out students, jealous young lovers, aged virginal dons and rude Oxford punters. She paints the follies of sequestered life at college, where too many people living under one roof can wreak havoc and give birth to some awful neuroses, and unflinchingly exhibits the hatred of women against women. The best new character to enter the series is Peter’s nephew the Viscount St. George. I thought of him as “Mini-Wimsey”, and I adored his puckish, shameless, naughty self. Such an adorable puppy.

The first time I encountered this story was via the BBC TV adaptation starring Harriet Walters and Edward Petherbridge, and I was not impressed. The screenplay runs roughshod over the subtleties of dream, poetry, and inner monologue that suffuse the text of the novel. I was also horrified at the depiction of life at a women’s college in Oxford; young harpies being taught by peculiar old hags. This is a book to be read (or, if you can find the Ian Carmichael unabridged audiobook, listened to): Not a story to be viewed onscreen.

Lord Peter, that magnificent beast whose imposing presence is at the core of my Sayers fetish, is absent for most of this investigation of hate letters and vandalism. Harriet tackles the poison pen on her own, and solo work spurs her on to regain the sense of self she lost during her first failed relationship. She remembers who she is: a Master of Arts, a scholar, an author, a woman. So, when Wimsey does arrive on the scene they are at their best, because Vane rises to the occasion.

Reading Gaudy Night in sequence, as the twelfth book featuring Peter, and the third major story that pairs him with Harriet Vane, it feels odd to witness Harriet’s bitter acerbity and sang-froid mellow into mush. Her usual frosty reception to Peter’s wooing is worn down by his departure to the continent. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that. This is good, because I simply couldn’t bear any more delays in the progress of their relationship.

Speaking as a woman who has borne mute witness to Peter’s unflagging devotion since I was a hot-blooded adolescent, I felt myself wanting to club Harriet over the head and punch her in the neck, for daring to hesitate. My teenaged angst rose to the boiling point with frustration at the sheer impudence of such a woman, confronted with such a man. How could she keep him waiting? Her objections seem infuriatingly tepid. Say yes, say YES, you damned fool!

Now that I am older, wiser, and possessed of two degrees from my own alma mater, I feel better equipped to absorb the harrowing ‘Yes; No; Wait’ of Harriet’s waffling indecision. Having survived to the ripe old age of 34 without succumbing to the matrimonial state, I get it. Hard-won independence, the fear of limiting one’s freedom, of disappointing someone else, of connecting yourself permanently to another human. It’s scary if you think about it too much, and after 30, you DO think too much.

I comprehend the temptation to return to the peace, order and discipline that can only be found in the Ivory Tower of scholarship. I grasp also the impossibility of retiring to the cloister, once the world has taken hold of you and you have grown too harried and broad and needy, too hungry for MORE to squeeze back into the rigid limits of academia.

In the end, it’s more romance than mystery. Partly thanks to the blossoming heat between Ms. Vane and Lord Peter, but mainly because, like so many English mysteries, this book is a love letter to Oxford. A true rendition of the eternal marriage of optimistic youth and knowing age, of teacher and student, library and lecture hall, residence and river. Forget the pale reflection you see in modern books like “Discovery of Witches” – this is TRUE Oxford, head and heart and blood and bone.

Audio review: Ian Carmichael’s narration of the text is, as ever, crisp and lovely, with feminine strength given to the Dean and the many other female characters who populate the college. Lord Peter’s nephew is voiced with a great admixture of sass, vigor and chagrin. The final confrontation – a scene full of spitting hatred – was delivered with proper venom and cold fury. Romantic contemplations that spring up inside Harriet’s mind are quietly and thoughtfully rendered in dulcet tones. Happily, Carmichael’s grasp of Latin is good, and his pronunciation of that ancient tongue is clean. He delivers both query and reply with grace, and without hesitation.

Denique: ‘Placetne, magistra?’ ‘Placet.’

Edward Petherbridge is so dreamy…What do you mean, you haven’t watched the BBC Television series from the 80s starring Harriet Walters and Edward Petherbridge?!?!
ARE YOU CRAZY?

BUY THIS DVD SET IMMEDIATELY!

Get better acquainted with my ideal man, Lord Peter Wimsey…

1. ‘Whose body?’ [rating=3]
2. ‘Clouds of Witness’ [rating=3]
3. ‘Unnatural Death’ [rating=2]
4. ‘Lord Peter Views the Body’ [rating=3]
5. ‘The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club’ [rating=3]
6. ‘Strong Poison’ [rating=4]
7. ‘Five Red Herrings’ [rating=1]
8. ‘Have His Carcase’ [rating=4]
9. ‘Hangman’s Holiday: A Collection of Short Mysteries’ [rating=2]
10. ‘Murder Must Advertise’ [rating=4]
11. ‘The Nine Tailors’ [rating=3]
12. ‘Gaudy Night’ [rating=5]
13. ‘Busman’s Honeymoon’ [rating=5]
14. ‘In the Teeth of the Evidence’ [rating=]
15. ‘Striding Folly’ [rating=]

5 of 5 stars / bookshelves: audiobook, mystery, read, romance, 12 discs unabridged, Ian Carmichael (Narrator). Publisher: Chivers on Cassette (2004) / AudioGO on CD (2011); first published 1935. Read from August 03 to 14, 2012

Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain


[rating=4] If you’re an aspiring chef, hoping to preview the glamorous life of celebrity sightings and slavishly devoted patrons that lies before you, this book will be a sharp kick to the gonads/ovaries. Bourdain does not paint a pretty picture of the NYC restaurant scene, but I will say, he writes about ghoulish goings-on with panache.

I’ve never tasted this man’s cooking (much to my chagrin), but his vocabulary is delicious. Fiefdoms, putative, dipsomaniacal… Private school education may not have taught him how to saute, but it shows to advantage when he’s penning a book. At one point he refers to kitchens that restrict their chefs to a paltry two towels per shift as “criminally parsimonious”. SWOON.

Military metaphors abound, as Bourdain likens the mass production of meals to running an army campaign.
“-next thing you know, the Russian tanks are rolling through the suburbs, misusing your womenfolk, and Mr Restaurant Genius is holed up in the bunker thinking about eating his gun.”

So, it’s nasty. How nasty? Here’s a wee dose, see how you take it:
“All the cooks’ necks and wrists were pink and inflamed with awful heat rashes; the end-of-shift clothing change in the Room’s fetid, septic locker-rooms was a gruesome panorama of dermatological curiosities.”

Is there swearing? Obscenities GALORE. The F-word is the LEAST of your worries. If you’re averse to profanity, run-don’t-walk far away from this book. If you’re okay with some vulgarity but not the whole cock-filled enchilada, skip the chapter titled “The Level of Discourse”.

Is it honest? Phew. No holds barred! Let’s take the skeletons out of my closet and dance with them! Brutal unflinching honesty.

Is it charming? Very. This passage made me clap and squee:
“My last semester at Vassar, I’d taken to wearing nunchakus in a strap-on holster and carrying around a samurai sword — that should tell you all you need to know.”

Is it funny? Oh yes. Black humour to be sure. But you’ll laugh.
“He has an unusual and frankly terrifying tic; when he eats, one eye rolls up into its socket. I’m told he makes funny faces when he has sex, too, but I try very hard not to picture that.”

Will I learn anything about cooking?
While Bourdain does his best to shoot off quick explanations of what’s going on in his kitchen, I would have liked a handy glossary, for us non-chef folks who have no clue what a “navarin” is, or what goes in the ominous sounding “boudin noir”.

The real benefit to a glossary is that it wouldn’t be nearly as snarky as Bourdain, who always has to add a dash of condescension to his definitions, as per: “Rouille – that’s a garlic pepper mayonnaise garnish, for the newbies.” At one point, he asks, “Does anyone need ‘livornaise’ explained… again?” and I actually put my hand up in the air and waved it around while reading.

Navarin d’agneau, boudin noir, demi-glace, choucroute garnie: I don’t know what the hell any of these things are, but now I want to put them in my mouth and find out. And isn’t that why we read? To vicariously experience someone’s struggles and loves and hatreds, to discover new tastes and new places, to add items to the ever-growing “must try” list?

That’s why I read, anyway. This book delivers on all accounts.

Some other books (and a movie!) that will make your mouth water…

1) Ruth Tal Brown’s ‘Fresh at Home’

2) Irma Rombauer’s ‘Joy of Cooking’

3) Best movie about food ever! (In Japanese w/subtitles) ‘Tampopo’ on DVD

4 of 5 stars / bookshelves: read, autobiography, comedy, 312 pages, Publisher: Harper Perennial (2007 – updated edition; first pub 2000)
Read from July 30 to August 06, 2012