Portend evil – or a cure…

Today – or what is left of it – is Tuesday the 13^th and in Spain that is the equivalent of the UK’s Friday the 13^th, bringing with it the usual superstition of imminent bad luck.

The Spanish regard Tuesday 13^th with particular wariness.

The exact origins of fear towards either day remain unclear but there are several theories.

Tuesdays were seen as being dominated by the influence of Mars, the god of war, as etymologically the Spanish for Tuesday, martes stems from his name. For some, this superstition was strengthened by historical events such as the fall of Constantinople to the Fourth Crusade on Tuesday April 13 1204 and its fall to the Ottomans on Tuesday May 29 1453. Of course, they conveniently forget all the other fateful events that don’t happen on that day and date.

There is a saying that goes ‘en Martes ni te cases ni te embarques ni de tu casa te apartes’, meaning ‘Don’t marry, go on a boat, or leave your house on Tuesday’.

Just as reoccurring patterns have this day of the week unpopular, the same has happened with the number 13. The Oxford Dictionary of Superstitions (1989) lists such concerns as ‘beginning anything on a Friday’ – you’ll not finish it; beginning a journey on that day as it ‘bodes ill luck’; never put Friday laid eggs into a child’s christening cake; never court on that day – ‘or you’ll never meet again’; it is unlucky to start a new job on Friday 13^th (few jobs begin on Fridays, however, usually Mondays (phew!); being born on that day (though no ill luck will follow the child if it’s born on God Friday the 13^th!)

Here in the Western world we commonly regard the number 13 as an unlucky one. Hotels often omit it from room doors and floor numbers while some airlines do the same with aisle numbers. I’ve certainly been in a hotel without a thirteenth floor!

There were 13 guests invited to dinner in Valhalla and Loki, seen as the Viking god mischief and chaos or as the god of evil and spirit of death (depending on which scholar you read), was its 13^th guest. And of course this parallels Jesus Christ’s last supper in which Judas was the 13^th guest and was responsible for betraying Christ, enabling his crucifixion – on a Friday.

For some it goes beyond superstition and becomes a real phobia called ‘Trezidavomartiofobia’ (fear of Tuesday the 13^th), which leads to an uncontrollable fear that causes the sufferer to attempt to spend the day at home and avoid contact with others. (Any excuse to avoid work, probably!) The English version is Triskaidekaphobia, fear of thirteen.

Superstition stems from folklore and coincidence, harking back in many cases to a time when people lived in closer proximity with nature than now, and believed in an ‘anima mundi’. In those days the sun and moon, fire and water, flora and fauna were accorded religious respect. (It’s always possible that a little more respect for nature would alleviate some of the world’s modern ills…)

 
Most of us are surprised by coincidences and may even look back at a fortunate chain of events to consider that they were intended, assigned by Fate. Some beliefs are characterised by a direct symbolism: for example, a new-born baby was carried upstairs to signify that he would rise in the world. Jung remarked, ‘Who can doubt that the Flanders poppies are more than local flora?’ To this day, it seems that red and white flowers in hospitals signify blood and bandages.
 
Linked with superstition is magic – for good or evil. For example, knots tied on a length of string by a witch could be a spell to hinder a birth or cure a sprained wrist! A black cat can portend evil or its blood could cure all manner of diseases. Either way, the poor black cat is the loser, it seems. Sadly, even to this day it seems that black cats are not as popular as cats of other hues – as if ancient superstition still lingered, even subliminally.

The study of superstition and witchcraft is a fascinating subject, and most certainly ideal material for countless story ideas. I used some in my out-of-print novel Death is Another Life – and I hope to return to the subject in the future, touch wood.

Dinner with an author

These days it’s rare to find an author who writes in several genres. Publishers prefer to pigeonhole their authors so they can better market them. Publishers rarely embrace authors who write a different kind of book every time.  An outstanding exception is Ken Follett, though he hasn’t strayed too much into genres other than suspense and historical saga. Indeed, authors wishing to break out of their genre ghetto often have to resort to one or more pennames.

Dennis Wheatley was prolific but never used another name and wrote in virtually all genres, save westerns, and his millions of readers had no problem adjusting to his choice of story.  Wheatley’s first published book was The Forbidden Territory (1933), a Duke de Richleau tale. Most of these stories began with a similar paragraph, the Duke and his friends going in to dinner! After which the adventures began in earnest. The following year, he introduced another continuing character, Gregory Sallust in Black August. Sallust and de Richleau books were produced regularly, later to be joined by two other series characters, Julian Day and the very popular French Revolution adventures featuring Roger Brook (1947).

 

Wheatley didn’t restrict himself only to writing about these series characters, however. He wrote many standalone novels, with crime, adventure, historical romance and supernatural themes.

Among his sci-fi books were They Found Atlantis, Star of Ill-Omen, Uncharted Seas, while his supernatural books included The Haunting of Toby Jugg, The Ka of Gifford Hillary, To the Devil – a Daughter and The Satanist.

 

In the politically correct present, Wheatley's work is frowned upon. Yet he enthralled millions in his day with his detailed fast-paced adventures. I believe they can still be enjoyed for what they are - escapist entertainment; they are of their time.

A friend of mine, Iwan Morelius lived in Campoverde on the Costa Blanca with his charming wife Margareta. Iwan was born in 1931 and, from the age of about eleven, he became fascinated with books, particularly adventure, action, westerns, sci-fi and thriller stories. He began with Swedish translations and then moved on to English originals.

In 1961 Iwan wrote to Dennis Wheatley, to let the author know Iwan and his brother-in-law Jan had built up quite a Wheatley collection, as the books were popular in Sweden. Wheatley graciously replied, complimenting Iwan on his English: ‘I can assure you that I get many letters about my books from British people whose English is nothing like so good as yours.’ In all, Iwan received 63 letters from Wheatley and a good number of signed books to add to his collection in English.

Ten years after writing his first letter to Wheatley, Iwan was visiting London with his wife, who was attending an English conversation course. Iwan wrote to Wheatley, explaining he would be in the neighbourhood and received a pleasant surprise when he and his wife were invited for lunch at the Wheatley home in Cadogan Square.

So at 12.30 Iwan and his wife stood outside the two-storey house and a butler opened the door and showed them into the hall. They were taken into the sitting room where they met Mrs Joan Wheatley. ‘I don’t know how to describe that lady,’ Iwan said afterwards. ‘She was very much upper-class. She wished us welcome rather formally. After only a few minutes Dennis Wheatley entered the room and finally I was to meet my favourite author.’

Iwan with Dennis Wheatley

 

As soon as Wheatley entered the room, the atmosphere changed. He had a wonderful smile that lit up his face and Iwan felt the man’s genuine warmth as he wished them welcome to London and their home in his rather hoarse voice. He’d been invalided out of the army after suffering a chlorine gas attack at Passchendaele and actually functioned on one lung.
 
After a short walk Wheatley took Iwan and his wife to an elevator that took them very slowly up to the second floor. Each wall in the elevator was covered with photos from the two world wars; later, the Wheatleys told them stories about these pictures. ‘Holding our breath, we entered the dining room, which was enormous,’ Iwan recalled, ‘and there the table was set with beautiful porcelain and crystal glasses and silver cups. The butler served us a most excellent meal from the first drink till the coffee and liqueur. It didn’t take long to relax and we talked about almost everything.’

Wheatley revealed that he and Joan had been a bit nervous as they didn’t know how much English Iwan and his wife could speak. ‘They also showed us their home,’ Iwan said, ‘and I was of course especially interested to see his big book collection. Most were signed by the authors and he had complete sets of Peter Cheyney, Ian Fleming and many others.’

 
The butler announced that Rolf Adlercreutz, a Swedish news photographer, had called for permission to take a few pictures of the meeting. Wheatley graciously agreed and even offered the man lunch, but he politely declined, not wishing to intrude.
 
When it was time to leave, Iwan presented the Wheatleys with a crystal candlestick from Kosta. Dennis Wheatley said, ‘I have a little gift for you too, Iwan.’ It was a proof copy of his latest book, The Ravishing of Lady Mary Ware, due to be published that spring. Inside was a printed dedication to Iwan, and this became one of Iwan’s prized possessions.

 
Iwan died tragically in June 2012. See my blog here

 

 

 

 

Book list-1965

For many years now, I’ve kept a list of the books I’ve read.  In the 1980s, I used to review books for the British Science Fiction Association, and in the 1990s also for my semi-pro magazine Auguries. Then when I discovered the Internet, I continued to write reviews on Amazon. Looking back, it seems I started in 1965.

Then, I simply listed the book. Now, I show the book, the author and the date read.

I won’t present a full list, which might become tedious, but show a few selected titles, just for interest.

1965

Fittingly, I read Arthur C. Clarke’s Childhood’s End in October, 1965 on the fourteen-hour train journey to join the Royal Navy. That same year, I also read Len Deighton’s Horse Under Water, which began at HMS Vernon, the naval diving school. My first draft in the following year after training was to HMS St. Vincent, in Gosport, across the water from Vernon.

 

I enjoyed E.V. Cunningham’s Sylvia, actually written by Howard Fast, an excellent suspense novel that deserves to be reprinted; it was the first in an unconnected series, save that all the books had women’s names, such as Shirley, Phyllis, Lydia etc.

 

Winston Graham’s Marnie was much better than the Hitchcock film; his characters are always believable. Since then, I’ve read most of the Poldark novels and many of his suspense novels; he never disappoints.

I read a few true wartime exploit books too – The White Rabbit (Bruce Marshall, writing the exploits of Yeo-Thomas), Boldness be my Friend (Richard Pape) and The Colditz Story (P.R. Reid) – all excellent books about real heroes.

 

Some years earlier I’d read quite a few similar titles, such as Odette, Carve Her Name With Pride, the Cockleshell Heroes, the Dambusters et al. Richard Pape wrote an espionage novel Arm Me Audacity, which reads as though it was true, not fiction. Of additional interest is this thread:

http://forum.keypublishing.com/showthread.php?68113-quot-Boldness-Be-My-friend-quot-by-Richard-Pape-a-pack-of-lies

I particularly enjoyed Ray Bradbury’s The Silver Locusts, alternatively titled The Martian Chronicles; a visionary and a poet at work. I still possess all his paperbacks, most of them the 1960s Corgi versions.

I was – and still am – a fan of Victor Canning, and his The Limbo Line didn’t disappoint. In those days I bought and read a lot of espionage thrillers – there seemed to be a great many around. One series I enjoyed featured Commander Shaw, by Philip McCutcheon, and in this year I read his Bluebolt 1 adventure.

 

For a few years prior to this, I’d discovered Dennis Wheatley, first his Duke de Richleau series (a few years earlier, my first foray was, prophetically, Vendetta in Spain), then Gregory Sallust; in this year, I read The Forbidden Territory and The Devil Rides Out, both landmark books for Wheatley.

 

The Forbidden Territory was Wheatley’s first published novel (1933) and introduced his modern trinity of musketeers in the epicurean Duke de Richleau, financier Simon Aron, and the wealthy young American, Rex Van Ryn. Happily, Bloomsbury is reprinting all of Wheatley’s books – www.bloomsbury.com/DennisWheatley

The Devil Rides Out (1934) was his second Richleau tale and his first black magic novel, which has become a classic of its kind (the recently released Kindle version is currently #1 in Horror and Occult categories, and #2 for Fiction Classics).

Wheatley’s point of view was generally omniscient when it suited the scene or third person when emotional conflict was necessary; though when the story called for it, he used first person narrative too (notably The Haunting of Toby Jugg). These books are two of his best adventures. The emphasis is on ‘adventure’; he wrote no-nonsense yet thoroughly researched thrillers with heaps of tension.

Another time, I’ll take a look at some books I read in 1966 – almost half a century ago!

Iwan Morelius 14 Nov 1931-21 June 2012

My wife Jen and I were saddened to learn that Iwan died suddenly last month, leaving his wife Margareta.


I only knew Iwan for the last four years of his life when I discovered by chance that he lived a half-hour’s drive away from me here in Spain.

Iwan was a consummate bibliophile. Margareta loves reading too – and music. Indeed, Iwan and Margareta’s home is a bibliophile’s heaven, with so many signed copies.

Born in Stockholm, Iwan and his family moved some eleven times in fourteen years. His parents owned a private library of about 400 books and Iwan caught the reading bug early. He devoured the translations of English and American authors and finally began collecting the Dennis Wheatley novels. In 1961 he wrote to Wheatley and struck up a lifelong correspondence. In 1971 Iwan was invited for dinner at Wheatley’s London home in Cadogan Square.

Iwan with Dennis Wheatley
Rather than wait for a Swedish translation of his favourite authors, Iwan bought the English versions and read those. He began writing to many of his favourites – Alistair MacLean, Helen Macinnes, Ian Fleming, Desmond Bagley, Hammond Innes, Leon Uris, Joe Poyer, James Hadley Chase, James Leasor, Edmund Crispin, Georges Simenon among others. Almost all of them answered his letters and several continued to keep in touch over the years.

In 1968 Iwan brought out the first issue of DAST magazine – (Detective, Agent, Science Fiction and Thriller). In 1974 Iwan was commissioned by Lindqvist Publishing to acquire a strong list of thrillers and mysteries – Hedman Thrillers, publishing many Swedish translations of Iwan’s favourite authors, among them Jack Higgins.

Iwan became a good friend of Geoffrey Boothroyd – Ian Fleming’s and Bond’s armourer – and they visited each other’s home regularly. Indeed, he visited a number of authors in their homes in the US, including Joe Poyer and Raymond Benson. He interviewed Ray Bradbury at the time of Bradbury’s first mystery being published and kept in touch. Bradbury is one of Margareta's favourite authors.

Margareta with Ray Bradbury, 1988
The list of authors Iwan has met, interviewed and kept in touch with over the years is quite remarkable: Mickey Spillane, Brian Garfield, Isaac Asimov, Colin Forbes, Duncan Kyle, John Gardner, Tony Hillerman, Frederick Forsyth, Michael Avallone, Elmore Leonard and Ed McBain, to name but a few. He taped some interviews, for example with Jack Higins and Leslie Charteris, and I have copies.

In 2009 I wrote an article about Iwan for the Levante Journal: ‘The Bond Connection’, one of a planned series that didn’t get taken up. For some time Iwan had badgered Raymond Benson to set one of his James Bond books in Spain; Raymond duly obliged with his thriller Doubleshot, written in 2000, which is partly set here. It also features a number of acknowledgements, not least Iwan. And to top that, on p233 there is a ‘Dr Iwan Morelius, a Swedish plastic surgeon’ who works for the villainous organisation! (As an aside, I’ve included Iwan as a Swedish chef in my novel The $300 Man (Hale Black Horse Western, as by Ross Morton). I also dedicated my crime novel A Sudden Vengeance Waits to him.

Geoffrey Boothroyd
Iwan was a generous host and virtually ran a private lending library for his friends. He had so many fascinating tales to tell, often with that distinctive twinkle in his eye. He will be missed.