Underrunners
by Margaret Mahy (Viking, 1992); audiobook read by Richard Mitchley (Brilliance, 2017)
Set in rural New Zealand, a down-to-earth middle-grade exploration of hope, disappointment and making the most of things; of using imagination as a coping mechanism yet still facing up to reality. Mahy plumps for realism and character development over clichéd happy endings.
The Fifth Elephant
by Terry Pratchett (Doubleday, 1999); audiobook read by Stephen Briggs (Isis, 2000)
A relatively dour instalment that, uncharacteristically, loses a little upon re-reading. As per many City Watch stories, much rests upon Vimes’s world view (good) and a slow-burning mystery (muddled). The grating Fred Colon subplot serves only to highlight the paucity of humour.
Doctor Who: The Evil of the Daleks
by David Whitaker; dir. Derek Martinus (BBC, 1967/2021)
A moody story that stays pleasingly small-scale for the majority of its seven episodes. While the premise proves a bit batty, Dudley Simpson’s incidental music keeps the viewer invested. The animation flatters the Daleks and rises to something near resplendence on Skaro.
The Secret Island
by Enid Blyton (Basil Blackwell, 1938)
Blyton’s first full-length adventure novel is low on peril but pleasantly diverting, and more substantial than later efforts. Pitched at younger readers, it sees four children run away to fend for themselves on a bountiful island—memorably taking a cow with them!
Death at the President’s Lodging
by Michael Innes (Gollancz, 1936); audiobook read by Stephen Hogan (Audible, 2010)
Thoroughly ingenious if highly convoluted. Inspector Appleby makes little impression as a character but is active in investigating the murder and reflecting on possibilities. In audiobook form—a confoundedly soft recording!—the similarity between ‘Appleby’ and ‘Umpleby’ (the victim) proves rather distracting.
Pietr the Latvian
by Georges Simenon (A. Fayard, 1931); audiobook read by Gareth Armstrong (Bolinda, 2015); trans. David Bellos.
Inspector Maigret makes his presence felt throughout this first novel, establishing the physically imposing, somewhat misanthropic character who would feature in seventy-five books. His investigation, however, rattles along like an out-of-control train, the reader trapped inside and kept largely in the dark.
Auntie Bea’s Day Out
by Diana Wynne Jones (1978); collected in “Freaky Families”, audiobook read by Penelope Rawlins (Clipper Audio, 2013)
A fun but insubstantial middle-grade adventure where children are dragged about by an oblivious, over-the-top adult and… magical things happen. The adult doesn’t notice. The children do, but have no agency and function merely as observers. A fairly pointless exercise in imagination.
The Four Grannies
by Diana Wynne Jones (H. Hamilton, 1980); collected in “Freaky Families”, audiobook read by Penelope Rawlins (Clipper Audio, 2013)
An irreverent middle-grade story in the Roald Dahl mode, though with not-so-horrible characters, less revelling in the mischief making, and far less of a comeuppance. Erg’s marvellous invention and his use of it tend more towards gormlessness than a proper childhood uprising.
Homicidal Psycho Jungle Cat
by Bill Watterson (Warner, 1994)
A delightful Calvin and Hobbes collection. The large format (two dailies or one Sunday colour per page) affords each strip a pride of place commensurate with the imagination, social commentary, and artistic prowess that Watterson poured into Calvin’s inner and outer worlds.
Pinball, 1973
by Haruki Murakami (Kodansha International, 1980); trans. Ted Goossen; audiobook read by Kirby Heyborne (Random House Audio, 2015)
In volume two of the Rat tetralogy, Murakami renews his commitment to dressing up shallow student nihilism as intellectual profundity. The contemplative simplicity of prose, the bleakness of the narrator’s mindset and the banality of subject matter combine alluringly, only to deceive.