Review: The Girl Who Fell From the Sky by Simon Mawer

What ho, I've reviewed Simon Mawer's The Girl Who Fell From the Sky for The Telegraph. It's about a young woman who parachutes into France to work as a spy during the Second World War. Check out my piece here.

 

Review: Bernard Cornwell's The Death of Kings

King Alfred the Cakes

Calloo callay, o frabjous day, I've written a review of Bernard Cornwell's The Death of Kings for The jolly old Observer. It's about a warrior called Uhtred, and concerns the aftermath of the death of King Alfred. Read it here, kids. Apparently (this isn't in the Cornwell, but there was a book about it recently) he didn't burn the cakes after all. So there you go.

The Plantagenets by Dan Jones: Book Launch

Dan Jones: Game of Thrones

To one of London's hidden delights, the St John Museum in Clerkenwell, for the launch of Dan Jones' new book, The Plantagenets. The room was vast and airy, stained glass windows catching the late sunlight, and gilded with armorial bearings. Below the room was the museum, which detailed the fascinating history of the Order of St John, from almost a thousand years ago to its work across the globe today. An appropriate place, then, for a launch of a book that discusses one of England's most important dynasties. It's like Game of Thrones, but real, said the editor. Game of Jones?

Many historians were present, including Ben Wilson, who now has a beard; also the actor Tom Hiddleston, who is much, much taller in real life than he is on film. Does that make sense? I didn't pluck up the courage to go and talk to him, though, alas. The politician Kwasi Kwarteng was there - he said that he'd read the book in six hours straight. That's how good it is. Also present was Richard Godwin, the Evening Standard columnist and noted bon vivant whom I bump into more than anybody else in the world. Much fun was had by all, and I even went to the St John restaurant afterwards and feasted, mediaevally, on bone marrow. Yum.

Bloomsbury Circus: Launch

Will Davis: Author - and aerobatical genius

To Brick Lane, for the launch of a new imprint from Bloomsbury. Editor Alexandra Pringle looked down upon a massy crowd of literary people (including novelists Amanda Craig, Michael Arditti and Lucy Beresford; short story writer Polly Samson; assorted literary editors, journos, publishers, and other types) as clowns, trapeze artists and sundry performers cavorted. The new imprint is a first for Bloomsbury (who published my own two books): and, rather conveniently, one of the new tomes they're publishing under the name is by the excellent Will Davis - who happens to be a brilliant trapeze artist. He stunned the audience with his aerobatic display on silks, tumbling up and down them with grace, agility and speed, drawing gasps of admiration and awe  as he slid about in a breath-taking and daring show. Did I mention he's also written a book? (More than one, actually.)

What was also cheering was that Alexandra Pringle stressed the importance of the midlist - "We love the midlist," she said - it's where they grow authors and look for future prizewinners. She also said that they loved physical books - the new imprint will publish fine editions (with what are called French flaps. Don't ask me.) Their new  colophon is the Bloomsbury Diana swinging in a half-crescent moon. I look forward to seeing many fresh and new talents emerging under its sign.

We were fed, deliciously and appropriately, on burgers and hot dogs. Amongst the guests I spotted Tracey Emin. I wonder what she was doing there? Poet Adam O'Riordan was present and correct, whose novel has been bought by Bloomsbury; alas, none of us could be persuaded to do a handstand, or even a forward roll. Will Davis has set the bar high (quite literally high) for us authors. As if it's not enough for us all to be blogging, twittering, presenting, festivalling and all the rest, we must now all learn a useful circus skill. Anna Stothard and I are going to start a knife throwing team for our next book launches. Failing that, I'll learn how to catch bullets between my teeth.

The Blockade Runners by Jules Verne: review

Jules Verne: Not just science fiction

Ahoy me hearties: I've reviewed Jules Verne's little-known The Blockade Runners for The Observer. Check it out here. He was a great favourite when I was small, though for his more common works - I had a beautiful hardback edition of 80 Days Around the World, which gave me much joyful pleasure.

Avengers Assemble an Ikea Bedstead - sorry, they come together. Review.

Avengers Assembling

Mash-ups entice us. When I was a child I used to imagine that all the books I read interacted; somewhere, there existed a world where Snow White drank tea with Alice, and Gandalf the Grey companionably locked horns with Sparrowhawk over a game of wizard chess; Middle Earth was just a boat's ride away from Narnia, in my supra-fictional framework.  There is a lot to be said for cross-hybridisation. I haven't read Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, but it seems like quite a funny idea. But in my experience, those mixtures tend not to work, as some part of the original artistic whole is invariably compromised. Gandalf the Grey looks a little greyer beside Sparrowhawk. Dumbledore wouldn't even get a look in.

Avengers Assemble is different, of course. (When I first saw the film's title I thought - Avengers Assemble what? An Ikea bedstead? That's pretty damn hard, but  a whole film about it? Really?) The heroes already exist in the same comic book universe. Bringing them together is a fan's dream. It also stems from the childhood need to collect all your playthings into one big meta-playground. The film sees Earth under threat (again) from the usual mysteriously motivated aliens with big weapons, and an energy source called the Tesseract, a hyper-cube that can open portals into other worlds. If it falls into the wrong hands... well, you can probably guess. Oh, and Loki, Thor's brother, (a fantastic Tom Hiddleston, who really ought to be given his own film) struts around smiling a lot and looking inscrutable because that's what monstrous evil people do, isn't it?

There are three problems with Avengers Assemble. But first, let's get the good stuff out of the way. Joss Whedon manages to leaven proceedings with a bit of wit - if it was a curry it would be a lamb korma. The actors give it their best shot, too, with some particularly good lines from Chris Hemsworth as Thor, and everyone yomps and punches and fixes things (there's a lot of fixing things) with aplomb.

So. The first problem is that the threat is so vague. Oh dear, the earth's under attack, again. What is it this time? Giant scaly flying tortoises? Sigh. Things that are alien have all but ceased to be frightening: things are much more scary when they come from within.

The second is that though the film consists of one frenetic scene after another, it actually manages to drag. That's largely because of its entirely predictable arc. Yes, there is a bit of friction between the Avengers; yes, there will be a moment when everything looks like it's going to fail; but yes, of course, it doesn't. And the film itself knows this. One of the characters (with whom I think the director thinks we have a lot more sympathy than we actually do) says to Loki that he'll never win. We know this. That's partly why we're watching this film; we don't go to watch superhero movies to see the world blown up. But the film would have had more of a hook if the threat felt genuine; the villains more pressing; the tensions less contrived.

The third problem relates to the assembling (I ought to call it mustering, really) of the heroes. Though the film managed not to spend too much time on their back stories, and getting them all together, there really were too many of them to care about. And since they're all super heroes - bar Black Widow and Hawkeye, who as far as I can see are just pretty handy in a fight - it's not that interesting watching them fight. The film does a good job of adding some spark to the battles, particularly with the Hulk. Ultimately, though, one can't help but feeling that these uber-men ought to be kept apart.

A much more interesting proposition would be to see Loki having to become good. That I'd love to see - the monster redeemed. The problem with heroes like Captain America is that they're just too damn boring. It's the same as Galahad, or Jesus Christ in Paradise Regained. You need your Lancelot, just as Milton knew that Satan was more interesting to write about. So, Marvel, I ask you: give Tom Hiddleston a chance. Avengers Assemble might be a comic book fan's dream - but maybe it should have stayed that way.

Read my review of Thor

Goldfish with Machine Guns: A Talk with the Liberators at Cranleigh Library

To Cranleigh,  for a reading group at the well-stocked and inviting library, where I was very warmly welcomed and given cake (which is a Very Good Thing.) We discussed bits of The Liberators and The Other Book, and also wider aspects of writing in general. It was interesting to hear what the children (aged between 11 and 12) were reading: a lot of Hunger Games and Twilight. I went round the room to discover what would be in the ideal book, and this is what they came up with:

A haunted house. A squirrel. A goldfish with a machine gun. Alien dinosaurs with jet packs. A magic mirror opening onto another world. A mystery. A flying pig called Gordon. A giant dog-eating ant. And a man-eating cake.

So if you could put all those together into a book, you'd be rich. (Possibly.)

It was a fun afternoon: an enormous thank you the the staff of the library, and to the reading group themselves - who have chosen to call themselves The Liberators, which is an accolade a man can hardly dream of. (Liber, of course, meaning book in Latin, as well as free. And of course liberi means children.)

It's a powerful argument for keeping libraries going - providing a place for children to get together and read and talk about books, and to come across things that they wouldn't necessarily have done. All power to the Liberators of Cranleigh