The Valley of Fear (1914–15) ***
The final novel is a regrettable mirroring of the first, with the displaced denouement taking up half a book, but it holds together better. Where the first was lifted by the origin story, this has retrospective foreshadowing and the crowd-pleasing return of a classic baddie, just ignore the continuity gaffe.
His Last Bow: The War Service of Sherlock Holmes (1917) ***
Real-world events forcing our fictional hero out of his comfortable retirement would be more stirring if that didn't keep happening anyway. Bogstandard spy fare, notable for a nice speech.
The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes (1921–27) **
One collection too many doesn't do any harm to the legacy, though breaking down the wall to let Holmes narrate a couple himself is as disappointing as when Jeeves did it, even admitting himself that some of them are shite. No shit.
Pyramids (1989) ***
My infrequent visits to the Discworld had never been as rewarding as the brochure hyped. I enjoy the writing style, it's just all the events and people it's describing that I don't really care about. This one wasn't doing much better in the first half until the mystical sci-fi came out in full force and threatened to convert me, to the point that I invested in several more discount omnibi for the overflowing shelves. Better not be a fluke.
Gérard Klein, The Valley of Echoes (1973) ****
Martian malaise.
Gene Wolfe, The Fifth Head of Cerberus (1972) *****
Atrophied ambiguity.
John Updike, The Chaste Planet (1983) ***
Silly symphonies.
Nathalie-Charles Henneberg, The Blind Pilot (1960) **
Mutant madhouse.
Alfred Bester, The Men Who Murdered Mohammed (1958) *****
Bunglers in time.
Manuel van Loggem, Pairpuppets (1974) **
Sexbot satyre.
C.M. Kornbluth, Two Dooms (1958) **
Nazipunk fuckoff.
Stanislaw Lem, The Tale of the Computer That Fought a Dragon (1977) ****
Ferrous fairytale.
Robert A. Heinlein, The Green Hills of Earth (1947) ****
Cosmic crooner.
Robert Sheckley, Ghost V (1957) ***
Exoplanet exorcists.
Tamburlaine the Great (1590) **
Distastefully convincing historie of an absolute rotter.
I bought this by accident when temporarily forgetting I already had Dr Faustus in an anthology, so I'll donate it before I waste more precious reading time trying to get my money's worth.
Reginald (1904) ***
Bertie Wooster's impertinent cousin dispenses drawing-room epigrams like Python's Wilde sketch extended to purgatorial eternity. An unintentional time capsule of an incredibly thin slice of society.
Reginald in Russia and Other Sketches (1910) **
More substantial and loosely themed to allow some dark comedy and fantasy in, but got wearying as it went on, brief as they are.
Faves: 'The Lost Sanjak,' 'Gabriel-Ernst.'
The Chronicles of Clovis (1911) **
A bit more refined, though a best-of would strengthen the themes and unflinching morbidity without all the irksome interruptions.
Faves: 'Filboid Studge, the Story of a Mouse That Helped,' 'The Peace of Mowsle Barton,' 'The Secret Sin of Septimus Brope.'
Maria Edgeworth, from Early Lessons (1801) *
A good boy deserves favour, receives it. Nothing like starting your anthology off strong to really whet the appetite.
Ann Taylor, Jane Taylor and Adelaide O'Keeffe, from Original Poems for Infant Minds & Rhymes from the Nursery (1804–06) ***
'The Star' was the surprise hit amid otherwise dispiriting indoctrinations, but the extreme cautionary horror of 'Never Play with Fire' was my favourite.
William Roscoe, The Butterfly's Ball and the Grasshopper's Feast (1807/8) ****
Enchanting parade of minibeast merriment that's begging for the chamber musical.
Elizabeth Turner, from The Daisy; or, Cautionary Stories in Verse Adapted to the Ideas of Children from Four to Eight years old (1807) *
I'd forgotten these anthologies are mainly intended as samplers for essays rather than entertaining in their own right. Here are more otherwise worthless exhibits for the bland moralising column. At least it's chronological, so we're implicitly outgrowing this. The Victorians were famously advocates of free-spirited childhoods, right?
Barbara [Wreaks] Hofland, from The History of an Officer's Widow, and Her Young Family (1809) *
Another insufferably good boy lives to please his fellow humans. How long until Dennis the Menaces start corrupting the youth?
Mary Martha [Butt] Sherwood, from The History of the Fairchild Family or, the Child's Manual: being a Collection of Stories Calculated to Shew the Importance and Effects of a Religious Education (1818) *
"And Mrs. Fairchild knelt by the bedside, and prayed that God, for his dear Son's sake, would take the wicked desire to be great out of her dear little girls' hearts."
Alicia Catherine Mant, from The Cottage in the Chalk Pit (1822) **
Polite children are denied the indulgence of educational hobbies and taking an interest in their new surroundings. Maybe they won out in the end, but it doesn't look promising.
Clement Clarke Moore, A Visit from St. Nicholas (1823) ***
Origin and context for another cultural building block, and nice of them to let the indoctrination slide for Christmas.
Mary [Botham] Howitt, The Spider and the Fly (1829) ***
A more sensible moral fable, and nice of them to bother bringing out the anthropomorphic nature this time. I prefer The Cure's version.
Sarah Josepha Hale, Mary's Lamb (1830) **
The quirky character study turns out to have a compassionate moral all along. I prefer Coleridge's version.
Catharine Maria Sedgwick, from Home (1835) *
Drowning a kitten and sentencing a child to solitary confinement for a fortnight, and you're supposed to be the goodie. The implicit youthful rebellion's taking its sweet time.
Jacob Abbott, from A Little Scholar Learning to Talk & Rollo at Work (1835–37) **
Unprecedented fairness from the elders without dropping the work ethic, maybe it's the country air.
