Murder Most Unladylike, by Robin Stevens

murder-most-unladylike-cover‘Last year we had the Pacifism Society (dull) and then the Spiritualism Society (less dull, but then Lavinia smashed her mug during a séance, Beanie fainted and Matron banned spiritualism altogether)’

Detective society formed by plucky young girls? Check.

Cheerful 1930s boarding school setting? Check.

Bunbreak? Check.

I mean, what more could you want in a book? Oh yes, perhaps a minority ethnic heroine and strong sense of social justice. Murder Most Unladylike is the first in the eponymous series by Robin Stevens, which currently consists of five books and counting. These are children’s books with an awareness of wider issues, blended beautifully into a fun vintage setting. They are full of period detail, and perfect for fans of Agatha Christie or Dorothy L. Sayers. Murder Most Unladylike is one of two which take place at Daisy and Hazel (the Detective Society’s leaders and only members) school, Deepdean School for Girls. And who doesn’t like a jolly 1930s school story? Particularly one with multiple maps in the front. We all know how I feel about maps in books.

Reading the book it is clear that Robin Stevens is American, but I don’t think this detracts from its charm. The story is narrated in the first person by Hazel, taking the form of her casebook for the Detective Society’s investigation into the murder of Miss Bell. I love the fact that Hazel is not British, having been sent from her home in Hong Kong to attend school in England. As well as highlighting this often-neglected aspect of British history, it resonated with me as someone who has lived as an expat myself.

Murder Most Unladylike follows the good old children’s literature tradition of allowing children to deal with things that no real child would ever be trusted with, which is always entertaining (even if one does feel a little inadequate for not having investigated any murders when one was 13…). The absence of parents is at least convincingly explained by the boarding school setting. This is something at least.

Boy: Tales of Childhood, by Roald Dahl

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‘An autobiography is a book a person writes about his own life and it is usually full of all sorts of boring details. This is not an autobiography’

There’s so much to love about this book. Roald Dahl’s childhood is just as exciting, hilarious and touching as any of his fictional creations – if not more so given that these stories are true.

Beginning with a brief account of his parents’ lives, and continuing until the point where he leaves the UK aged 20, Roald Dahl recounts such classic tales as The Great Mouse Plot, Goat’s Tobacco, and that time he was a chocolate taster for Cadbury’s. As evidenced by this last entry, those familiar with his writing will notice many occasions where the seeds of later stories appear. But even if you didn’t read Roald Dahl growing up, there’s still plenty enough here to keep you hooked.

One of my very favourite stories is the account of the family’s holidays in Norway. Not having been to Norway myself I can’t confirm whether it really is as marvellous as the depiction given, but the story does a wonderful job of conjuring up the magic of childhood holidays regardless of where you went. It includes excellent depictions of food, making the whole thing reminiscent of classic adventures such as those of the Famous Five or Swallows and Amazons. As is the case with those stories however, I suspect the food isn’t quite as good in real life as it seems in the reader’s imagination! I can confirm the the sweet brown Norwegian cheese known as gjetost really is delicious though.

But while the Famous Five and Swallows and Amazons conveniently skip time spent at school, much of Boy is spent describing the trials and tribulations of attending a 1920s boarding school. This makes it reminiscent of classic school stories as well as adventures, which only adds to its charm.

It’s one of my all time favourite books, and I highly recommend it to everyone, regardless of whether you’re familiar with either Dahl’s fiction (though I find it hard to imagine anyone is totally unaware of this) or with the other classic tales it brings to mind. It’s witty and magical, and guaranteed to make you smile.

 

Bartlett and the Ice Voyage, by Odo Hirsch

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‘Some people said that its flesh tasted like spicy currants dipped in honey, while some said it was like spicy honey mixed with currants. Others described it as cinnamon custard with walnut syrup. Others who had eaten it refused to say what it was like, claiming that there was nothing on earth so sweet, smooth and delicious with which it could be compared’

Melidrops. Surely no other literary food can compare with the glory of a melidrop? Odo Hirsch must surely be the king of writing food, from the chocolate rollos in Hazel Green to the limeade in Antonio S. and the Mystery of Theodore Guzman his books are guaranteed to make you feel very hungry all of a sudden. And melidrops are the best.

There is, admittedly, more to this book than melidrops alone. Odo Hirsch’s writing is very distinctive, the worlds he conjures up are unlike any others. Bartlett the explorer, and his trusty companion Jacques le Grand, are sent by the a young Queen to bring a melidrop back to the palace. But melidrops spoil quickly, and in an age before refrigeration, electricity or aeroplanes transporting one that far is virtually impossible. The moral of the story lies both in patience on the part of the queen (who is all too eager to send the dashing but inept Sir Hugh Lough) and the intelligence, desperation and perseverance of the explorers themselves.

One of my favourite things about it it is that there are no real villains as such. Everyone is flawed in their own way, and everyone has their good points too. It’s not good guys vs bad guys, it’s just an adventurous exploration. With lots of good food. All the best adventures involve lots of good food.