“Art in the Blood: A Sherlock Holmes Adventure”, by Bonnie MacBird

 

336 pages, ‎ Collins Crime Club, ISBN-13: 978-0008129699

So we had a power outage out here and, rather than sit in darkness, I took my mother to her local library (which was, evidently, on a different grid) just to have a look around – and I found this, Art in the Blood – A Sherlock Holmes Adventure by Bonnie MacBird. Now, as I’m sure you remember, Dear Reader, as of this writing I am running a mystery book club at the Fraser Public Library and find myself on the lookout for new books to suggest to the folks. So when I saw a brand-new Sherlock Holmes adventure that I could borrow and read at no cost to myself I said, “Oh, what the hell. I’ll be the guinea pig” (I mean, why not; it was free, after all).

And I’m glad that I did for, in reading Art in the Blood I had the very real sensation that I was reading an authentic Holmes mystery written as Conan Doyle would have. The pacing, the language, the characterizations – especially, it must be said, of Holmes and Watson – all felt to me like MacBird had channeled Sir Arthur and wrote a book the way he would have. Be warned, however, for the story is rather dark – very dark, perhaps – concerning as it does art theft, torture, child abuse, rape, incest and pederasty, themes atypical for a Holmes story but which, I would argue, existed during the Victorian Age (as well as our own, mores the pity).

The story is certainly more action-packed than most Holmes mysteries (although Holmes is perfectly able to comport himself physically) with famous names periodically being dropped: Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec meeting Holmes and Watson? Why not! And Vidocq is based on Eugène-François Vidocq, a French criminal-turned-detective (Conan Doyle partially based Holmes on Vidocq, which makes this an inside joke). There are little inconsistencies that quirk at True Fan; for instance, Mary Morstan – that’s Mrs. Watson – has a sick mother in this outing, but canon has established her as an orphan.

So, for what it’s worth, I thought that Art in the Blood was a fast-paced novel with several intriguing subplots and some nicely thought-out twists and turns. MacBird captured the Victorian Era and atmosphere convincingly, the dialog especially. The local color was certainly well done; facts about the historical period were well detailed in language, setting and in society’s detail. Stepping into Conan Doyle’s shoes couldn’t have been easy, but MacBird did a very credible job with this fast-paced and dark adventure. If the book club agrees I’ll put it on the calendar; regardless, I look forward to reading the second book.

“The Last Kaiser: A Biography of Wilhelm II, German Emperor and King of Prussia”, by Tyler Whittle

 

368 pages, Times Books, ISBN-13: 978-0812907162

I picked up my copy of The Last Kaiser: A Biography of Wilhelm II, German Emperor and King of Prussia by Tyler Whittle (or rather, Michael Sidney Tyler-Whittle) from John K. King Books on Lafayette Boulevard in Downtown Detroit, one of my favorite used book hunting grounds that my Dad and I used to make semi-annual excursions to (I’ve mentioned this before). We here in the States have a very specific idea of just who and what Kaiser Bill was (assuming any of us remember, that is), with “Warmonger” topping the list. But according to Whittle, Wilhelm – contrary to allied propaganda – didn’t want war, especially the two-front war that was the dread of every German leader since…well, forever. But the propaganda of the Allied powers was a powerful thing, and any attention to truth and balance was mostly nonexistent or distorted (and the winners write the history).

There is, of course, more to the story. Wilhelm had a tempestuous relationship with his parents – they would be Friedrich Wilhelm Nikolaus Karl, Frederick III of Germany and Victoria Adelaide Mary Louisa, eldest daughter of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert – seeing as they were reforming liberals and he was a reactionary aristocrat, but Whittle makes it sound like family meant a great deal to him (he got on well enough with King George V and seemed to really like Tsar Nicholas II, in a condescending manner). His mother never ceased to consider herself British and looked down on the German court and culture as inferior to Victorian Britain, while his father was out of step with public opinion, being too liberal for the prevailing political climate. Wilhelm compensated by becoming very nationalistic, while his parent’s exceedingly high standards meant that they never saw Wilhelm as being never quite good enough.

While reading this biography it became quite clear – to me, at any rate – that Wilhelm’s life, character and attitudes were shaped by his left arm. I’ll explain: his was a breech birth, being born feet-first instead of head-first, and so the attending physician forcibly pulled the left arm downwards, tearing the brachial plexus, then continued to grasp the left arm to rotate the infant’s trunk and free the right arm, but permanently injuring the left arm and causing it to be withered and half the size of his right for the rest of his life. From a mental point of view – what with all of the ipecac and chloroform Victoria was given, along with Wilhelm’s hypoxic state at birth – it all possibly gave Kaiser Bill mild brain damage which manifested itself in his subsequent hyperactive and erratic behavior, limited attention span and impaired social abilities. Indeed, the way he behaved even in adulthood made him seem as a child who never grew up.

Anyway…Kaiser Bill, under Whittle’s pen, actually comes across as a complicated though not unlikable man with his share of strengths and weaknesses, a shocking revelation to me, seeing as I always thought of him as a warmongering loud mouth. He overcame a very difficult birth disability at great sacrifice, became Kaiser at least ten years too early for his own (or Germany’s, or Europe’s) good and was really caught in profound international currents not of his own making (oh, and he was a big fan of PG Wodehouse). For opponents of the time and later detractors there is enough in a few of William’s speeches and actions to condemn him, which they certainly did; however, the countervailing evidence unearthed by Whittle suggest a much more complex man, and his balanced interpretation is a far more accurate picture of a man who should, perhaps, have been an actor rather than an emperor. Kaiser Bill, we hardly knew ye.

“The Three Orders: Feudal Society Imagined”, by Georges Duby, Translated by Arthur Goldhammer, With a Forward by Thomas N. Bisson

 

392 pages, The University of Chicago Press, ISBN-13: 978-0226167725

In The Three Orders: Feudal Society Imagined, prominent Annales historian Georges Duby offers a tripartite view of medieval French society, a construct which depicts men separating themselves into a triple hierarchy: Those Who Pray; Those Who Fight; Those Who Work. He considers how this medieval theory of orders originated, discusses its complex history and shows how different interests – cultural, political and economic – were involved in its creation and use. The Three Orders also shows how the tripartite schema came to occupy a central position in social thought and clarifies the manner in which feudal society viewed itself.

Beginning with a brief examination of a popular early 7^th Century treatise on the Three Estates of France, Duby then jumps abruptly back to the period in which the notion that French society was thus divided was born. Essentially, the bishops of the tottering Capetian state drew upon older imaginings of hierarchical order to project a new rationale for royal power and peasant subservience; their tripartite scheme collapsed with the monarchy itself, only to be resuscitated in the 12^th Century with the creation of the Feudal system and the conflict between Capetians and Plantagenets contributed to a definitive restoration of monarchical trifunctionality.

In tracing the fortunes of the Three Orders, Duby shows how this tripartite scheme came to occupy a central position in social thought and clarifies the manner in which feudal society viewed itself.