A Sight for Sore Eyes - Book review

Ruth Rendell’s 1998 book A Sight for Sore Eyes is an exquisitely plotted crime novel. At just over 400 pages, it is longer than many of her books, but it’s still a fast read, because the reader is impelled to keep turning the pages to find out what happens next.

Like many of her novels, the troubles her protagonists face are brought home to them by events in the past, and this one is no exception.

The Grex brothers – Keith and Jimmy – lived in the family home; then Jimmy married Eileen. They were not imaginative individuals, and there’s plenty of dark humour describing their relationship: ‘in order to be productive ejaculation had to be frequent, lavish and cumulative… a lot of that stuff had to get inside you before anything resulted… like the Grecian 2000 lotion Keith put on his greying hair, which only took effect after repeated applications.’ (p9) The result was an unexpected baby boy, Teddy.

Teddy grew into a handsome youth, but lacked any parental affection and was left to his own devices so that emotionally he was sadly deficient of empathy.

Yet Teddy has one abiding interest: he likes beautiful things, which is fostered by the neighbour, Mr Chance, who is a craftsman in wood and is fond of the phrase ‘A sight for sore eyes.’ (p17, p240)

Rendell’s descriptions are poignant, astute and sometimes amusing. ‘There was something about Keith that suggested a half-melted candle. Or a waxwork left out in the sun. The flesh of his face hung in wattles and dewlaps. It seemed to have waddled down his neck and sagged from his shoulders and chest to settle in stacked masses on his stomach.’ (p21)

The living conditions in the Grex household were decidedly deplorable in Teddy’s eyes, and he was ashamed. ‘Woodworm were devouring the living-room furniture and from the television table had bored into the skirting board… Spiders were in the bath and silverfish wriggled across the floors.’ (p57) ‘The tracks made by moth grubs already showed on the lumpy woollen surfaces and moth cocoons, greyish-white like mildew, nestled between the stitches.’ (p58)  ‘The fly-spotted mirror was losing its silvering in a kind of greenish ulceration round the edges…’ (p59)

Little girl Francine Hill was in her bedroom when her mother was murdered downstairs. She hid in case the murderer was after her as well. And when her father found her she was so traumatised she had lost her power of speech. She became a patient of Julia, a psychologist who eventually married Francine’s father. Francine was finally restored and she grew up cossetted by Julia, as if wrapped in cotton wool, fearful lest the murderer came back…

Francine becomes a beautiful young woman, someone who could easily be idolised by the likes of Teddy.

Inevitably, these characters will interact, their lives dovetailing, and slowly but surely there will be a fateful reckoning.

Rendell’s psychological insights, the depiction of a character’s gradual slide into insanity, her masterful plotting and the grim denouement make this novel a totally satisfying experience.

Shuttlecock - book review

I’ve come late to Graham Swift’s 1981 novel Shuttlecock. I’d bought it on paperback release when I was studying psychology with the Open University, as it was labelled ‘a psychological thriller’; but I never got round to reading it then.

 

The book is narrated in the first person by Prentiss who works as a senior clerk in the ‘dead crimes’ department of the police archives.

There’s a Kafkaesque tone to it, a dreamlike quality that lingers even after the last page is turned.

We’re not exactly sure of the narrator’s reliability regarding his observations and conclusions.

His boss is Quinn, who remains aloof and has a tendency to psychologically and verbally bully the office staff. Then Prentiss begins to realise that some files once requested by Quinn are never returned, while others are tampered with.

Prentiss is a bit of a bully himself, domineering towards his wife and hypercritical of his two sons, Martin and Peter. It is possible that this is relevant to his childhood. He makes twice weekly visits to his father in a mental institution, following the old man’s breakdown. Prentiss is obsessed about his father’s wartime memoir, Shuttlecock, about his spying exploits in France for SOE and his subsequent capture and torture. Gradually, Prentiss questions his father’s alleged bravery, perhaps recognising that he himself is a coward. But he finally plucks up the courage to confront Quinn about the missing files.

The narrative is riveting, despite the unappealing nature of Prentiss, and offers insightful parallels about father and son relationships. It is not all grim; there is humour to be found, notably his references to his sexual antics with his wife Marian, though nothing graphic. An editor might have pointed out the possible reader confusion of using two female character names beginning with the same letter, Marian (his wife with pert breasts) and Maureen (she with big breasts from the typing pool), but that’s of no real consequence. 

This is not a thriller, but that dubious description is no fault of Swift but rather the publisher. Certainly it is suspenseful and continually intriguing with countless behavioural observations.

Once Around the Sun - Book review

What an unusual book; compelling storytelling at its best, handling a theme that spans centuries. Published as a paperback original in 1978, D.G. Finlay’s magical novel Once Around the Sun proved doubly fascinating for me as it was not only well-written and evocative, it also featured Gosport in Hampshire, where my wife Jennifer and I with our daughter Hannah lived for many years.

 

Though labelled as 'general fiction' Finlay is considered to be a horror writer.

There are four parts, each about a different period, all set in and around Gosport, each prefaced with a relevant map.

The first concerns about thirty Scandinavian conquerors who settle by the Solent around early 400s AD. Their chieftain was ‘a hard man, but weary of the restless years behind him.’  Though they found peace and rich land to till, there was the occasional conflict, notably with the Meonwara (present-day Meon Valley, I guess).

Young virile Stoc became the new chieftain in 480. Throughout the writing is never less than eloquent, with good imagery, for example at the chieftain’s funeral pyre: ‘The call to Woden died in the throats of the men and they listened, the hair rising on their skin and the blood standing cold in their bodies.’ (p18) And: ‘When the sun crept out of the mantle of morning mist, there remained only the funeral guards, still as stone in their trance-like vigil over the little hill with its crown of smoking, sweet-smelling ash.’ (p19) Stock took to wife Moanh who gave him much pleasure and two sons: ‘The joy of lying with Moanh and basking in the warmth and strength of hr response to him filled his waking thoughts.’ (p21)

One day Stoc joined the hunt of a wounded wild boar which finally put up a tremendous fight, killing one of the hunters. Stoc took a tusk from the dead boar and carved an pendant resembling two boars and presented it to his wife.

The pendant seems to possess a dark power which subsequently affects the two sons… Brigid weds Bran, one of the boys, so the genes will be passed on…Ultimately, tragedy stalks them, and the pendant survives…

The second part is set in the time of the English Civil War. Polycarpus Miller and his wife Elizabeth had twin daughters, Becky and Biddy, and on their tenth birthday they were presented with a pendant each, one a copy of the original. Becky owned the original and sensed its fell influence on her… And Biddy’s beautiful daughter Prue becomes involved in spying on the governor of neighbouring Portsmouth, for he was loyal to the king while Gosport was allied with Cromwell. When villagers suspect Becky of witchcraft, she is sent abroad to America with her beau Richard Gardenar (in readiness for the sequel, The Edge of Tomorrow, 1979).

The third part takes place in 1783 when American and French prisoners are being held in floating hulks in Portsmouth Harbour. The conditions in the hulks are grim. One of those incarcerated on the vessel Royal Oak is Richard Gardenar. Tom Long works on Gardenar’s hulk and recognises the likeness of their ancestor from a portrait of the 1600s. He determines to arrange for an escape… The night trek across the mudflats is tense and well told. Daughter Brigid wears the handed-down boar pendant and coincidentally the rescued Richard possesses the other, passed on from Becky…

The fourth part is set during the Second World War. Two elderly brothers, Bran and Wayland, live together. This is a particularly dark episode. Wayland is not a pleasant man, a follower of the satanist Aleister Crowley. The area is suffering from frequent rape-murders of local women. Wayland is jealous of Bran’s attachment Mavis. And they both possess the pendant heirlooms… for a final reckoning…

D. G. Finlay set herself a mammoth task and has done a great deal of research and supplies two pages of reference works. She manages to evoke each time period and cleverly names of characters are reinvented for later generations.

The local references are many: the sinking of Henry VIII’s ship the Mary Rose; Titchfield; Privett Farm; St Mary’s Church, Stoke – our church in the 1980s; Fareham; Southsea Castle; Peel Common; Stokes Bay – where we often walked; the Five Alls pub – which I frequented often in the mid-1960s; Spring Garden Lane; Grove Road; the Queen Charlotte pub – where we played skittles; HMS St Vincent, a training brick ship, my first draft in the RN; Brickwood’s Best Bitter; the Gosport War Memorial Hospital – which has been in the news a lot recently; ‘the Asylum out in the country near Wickham’ – presumably Netley, which is now a newish housing complex.

A thought-provoking read with, be warned, a down-beat ending.

Coincidence: there is an uncanny echo from the previous book I read, Deep Purple: ‘... let the bitter-sweet melody of “Deep Purple” flow through him…’ (p256) The book also features a Harry Gardener, a close spelling to Gardenar!

Another coincidence: Dione Gordon Finlay was living in Malta when she wrote this book and its sequel. Jennifer and I lived in Malta a few years earlier, 1974-75.

Deep Purple - book review

 Ted Allbeury’s 1989 espionage thriller Deep Purple has all the hallmarks of his earlier books: authentic background, knowledge of the inner workings of the Secret Intelligence Service, MI6.

 

It all begins with Yakunin, a KGB walk-in at the British embassy in Washington. He is swiftly flown to a safe house in England where he will be questioned by Eddie Hoggart, a man who worked his way up from a deprived childhood to become a seasoned interrogator.  Hoggart is married to Jacqui, a sex worker with a past that includes a Soho hard-man, Harry Gardner. In effect, Eddie and Jacqui are two sides of the same coin, surviving the hard knocks of society. Eddie was helped up by an adoptive parent and he wants to help Jacqui. Only Gardner has other ideas…

Confusing the mix is yet another defection: KGB man Belinsky, who appears to contradict the revelations of Yakunin.  Which one is the genuine defector, and which is the plant? Or are they both not what they seem?

The big question is: do they know about a mole in the higher echelons of MI6?

Here we can understand the lonely existence of spies. Yes, orphans definitely make the best recruits.

There are some poignant and tragic moments in this story, which rings true, thanks to Allbeury’s attention to the details that matter.

The title of the book is relevant: it relates to the old tune of the same name.

Electricity - Book review

Victoria Glendinning’s second novel Electricity was published in 1995. It is an excellent piece of writing narrated in the first person beginning in the period 1883.

Charlotte is reflecting on what has happened to her in the last couple of years with wit, candour and growing self-realisation. The narration is so credible the reader feels a privileged confidante.  

A twenty-one-year-old stranger, Peter Fisher, was due to stay at their London suburb family home by arrangement with a relative for a modest rental. The acquisition of a lodger was timely since the father of the house had lost his job. Charlotte was eighteen. An attachment developed in the close confines. It transpired that Peter was a young genius fascinated with electricity, working with a Mr Ferranti, ‘the coming man’.

Soon after Charlotte’s Aunt Susannah came to stay at their house too. And Charlotte had to share her bedroom…

All of the characters are well-drawn, whether it’s the positively creepy father, the put-upon mother, the querulous Aunt, or the electricity-obsessed Peter. Of all these, Aunt Susannah is the most amusing and memorable.

Glendinning’s descriptions of the period, down to the finest detail of the way they lived, put the reader deep into the story. There’s plenty of humour and indeed poignancy, sadness and tragedy. Many subjects spark interest, such as animal magnetism, Mesmerism, electricity itself, dress-making, precious and semi-precious stones, English apples, séances, electroconvulsive therapy, infidelity and duplicity, all expertly woven into Charlotte’s tale.

This is a believable slice of life in the 1880s, and very well told. 

A Safe Harbour - Book review

Benita Brown (1937-2014) published almost two dozen novels. A Safe Harbour was her thirteenth novel, a saga set in the Northeast of England. 

This well-written saga is set mainly in Cullercoats, in 1895. Eighteen-year-old Kate Lawson has striking Titian hair and is known to be bright and a worthy catch for any local man, but she has chosen Jos, a fisherman. Unfortunately, shortly before their wedding, Jos dies at sea due to a foolish accident. When her drunken father discovers she is pregnant, she is banished from the family home. Kate has to rely on the kindness of her aunt.

Richard Adamson, the handsome owner of a fleet of steam trawlers, is not popular among the fishermen as his new boats are more efficient and claim bigger catches. Despite her family’s enmity towards Adamson, she falls in love with him. Yet she cannot reveal her shame to him or anyone else in the community. The best she can hope for is to move abroad, heartbroken, to be confined with a relative in North America…

Brown was a north-easterner and it shows in her characterisation and depiction of the area and period. Many of the places named are familiar to me, not least Cullercoats, Tynemouth, Whitley, Jesmond, Newcastle, and Monkseaton. There is a smidgen of Geordie jargon, but nothing that is too incomprehensible. A family doctor figures, too, by the name of Phillips; which reminded me of our Whitley Bay family physicians, Doctors Phillips and Vardy, both of whom sported bow-ties!

Adamson is made from the broadcloth of Victorian heroes, and Kate is his equal in her strength of character.

Highly recommended.

The Wayward Tide - Book review

This was Alison McLeay’s debut novel, published in 1990. An extensive biography of her can be found in her entry in Fantastic Fiction: https://www.fantasticfiction.com/m/alison-mcleay/, a resource which I recommend. There followed six more books before her demise at the relatively young age of 39 (1949-1988).

McLeay was meticulous about researching her books, whether fiction or non-fiction, and it shows in The Wayward Tide. It’s rather sad that this book has only one review on Amazon. Of course the author died before Amazon took off. In fact the book became an instant best-seller, and was labelled ‘the most stunning fiction debut in years’ by Publishers' Weekly in America, where the first print run reached an astonishing 100,000 copies. The American version was titled Passage Home. The Wayward Tide was published in ten different languages.

McLeay travelled to many parts of the world to carry out research for her books. ‘If you are going to have the feel of the place, you have to go there,’ she once said.

It’s good to have a break from crime and thrillers and sagas such as this certainly immerse you in their author’s world.

The Wayward Tide is a first person narrative by Rachel Dean, beginning with her childhood in Newfoundland in 1827. Her parents are not particularly loving towards her; she tends to escape into the world of nature – until a shipwreck brings Adam Gaunt to their community, where he resides in the Dean household. There’s a big age difference; so Rachel merely has a crush on him. When her mother learns that Adam once had a native Indian wife, her attitude alters markedly and soon Adam Gaunt has left the family home. Rachel’s coming-of-age is amusingly and touchingly revealed, including her infatuation with another lodger, Francis Ellis, who proves duplicitous. Both Gaunt and Ellis keep popping up in her life in the future.

It would be a shame to reveal more, save that Rachel is made of stern stuff and faces hardship in the American wilderness as a young wife, as a saloon singer, and as a mother. Her eventual move to Liverpool, her family’s ancestral home, brings fresh changes and a new husband.

McLeay captures the period, the lifestyle of frontiersmen, the squalor of Independence (Rachel’s wilderness home), the deprivation of the bustling Liverpool, and the burgeoning shipping business of the time.

A very satisfying read.

The cover artwork is excellent; the back cover illustration reminds me of a still photograph of James Stewart, probably from the film How the West Was Won.   

 

Blue Moon - Book review

 

Lee Child’s 2019 blockbuster ticks all the usual boxes. Readers have come to expect certain things, and Child always delivers. 

Travelling on a Greyhound bus, Jack Reacher notices that a passenger is taking an unhealthy interest in an elderly man further up the aisle. When the old man gets off, so does the apparent stalker. Reacher’s instinct kicks in and he follows, preventing a serious mugging. The old man was carrying a fat envelope crammed with dollar bills. He’s grateful but doesn’t want Reacher to get involved. He won’t reveal why he is carrying so much money. Reacher helps the old man get home, and slowly the backstory of old  Mr and Mrs Shevick.

Meanwhile, two rival factions, Ukrainian and Albanian, are at each other’s throats. There is a connection between them and the old man. And Reacher doesn’t like it. As he sees it, ‘This is a random universe. Once in a blue moon things turn out just right. Like now.’ (p44)

This time Reacher enlists the help of a plucky waitress Abby and a couple of musicians; as if he needs help…. While first meeting Abby Reacher listens to a band’s rendition of Howlin’ Wolf’s ‘Killing Floor’ (p89) – a neat reference to Child’s first Reacher novel. The love interest is there, but not laboured. Of late, I reckon that Reacher had become excessively more violent. The body count is very high. No matter: the bad guys get what they deserve…

As usual, not a lot happens,  except in a few brief violent scenes but Child keeps you turning the pages in order to get to the bloody end.

The formula works. Why knock it?

 

 

Classic Westerns - book review

 CLASSIC WESTERNS

Collected and introduced by Peter Haining, published 1998.

Haining brings together twelve Western short stories, many of which were the templates for movies.

Among these are: Three-ten to Yuma by Elmore Leonard, Stagecoach by Ernest Haycox, Hondo by Louis L’Amour, The Misfits by Arthur Miller, and A Man Called Horse by Dorothy M Johnson.

Other stories feature characters who subsequently appeared in TV or film: The Cisco Kid, Hopalong Cassidy, and The Virginian.

My favourites, besides those film titles above are ‘The Caballero’s Way’ by O. Henry, ‘Dust Storm’ by Max Brand,  ‘The Great Slave’ by Zane Grey, and ‘One Man’s Honour’ by Jack Schaefer.

There’s a good amount of fine prose to be found amongst this selection of mostly moral tales.

Brown on Resolution - Book Review

C.S. Forester’s novel was published 1929 and judging from the title you’d be forgiven to think that this concerns a hero on a ship named Resolution. However, the blurb will correct that: Resolution is an uninhabited barren rock in the Galapagos Islands, and it’s 1914, the early days of the First World War.

The entire narrative is from the omniscient point of view. It begins by telling us that Leading Seaman Albert Brown lay dying on Resolution. Not auspicious. Why read on? And yet Forester’s style draws you in; a short two-and-a-half pages for the first chapter. Then Chapter Two takes us ‘more than twenty years earlier’, with a Lieutenant-Commander Saville-Samarez, RN sharing a train carriage with twenty-nine-year-old virginal Agatha Brown, who was leaving her father and siblings for five days sojourn with a family friend in Ealing.

The descriptions throughout are excellent: that morning at breakfast her father, ‘with the newspaper propped up against the marmalade jar he would bring his mouth down to his fork rather than his fork up to his mouth, and he would open the latter alarmingly (which was quite unpleasant when, as was usual, he had not quite swallowed the preceding mouthful) and thrust the fork home and snap down his big moustache upon it… He drank his tea noisily through his moustache…’ (p9)

Thereafter, the pair spent three delirious days in a hotel… and then parted amicably. Agatha gave birth, to the distress of her family, but made the best of it and managed to support herself and her boy Albert, inculcating in him the desire to join the Royal Navy: ‘the sprouting of the grain she was sowing in such seemingly inhospitable soil’(p47). As the years passed, she kept abreast of the latest naval developments, the building programme, and the advancement of a certain officer named Saville-Samarez.

There’s a humorous interlude when Albert’s headmaster courts Agatha, ‘the widow’. Until he reveals his true nature and political beliefs; the man leaves, deciding Mrs Brown is mad.

Sadly, she is assailed with incurable cancer. ‘Agatha’s life went out of her while she floated above a vast grey sea sombrely tinted with  silhouettes of battle squadrons, the grey craggy citadels of England’s glory and hope. Their funnel smoke swirled around her, veiling the worried freckled face of the child of her sin, and she smiled happily.’ (p58).

After his mother’s tragic death, Albert fulfilled her ambition for him and following training joined the newly commissioned third-class cruiser Charybdis.

The war began. The Royal Navy was on the lookout for the German warships Scharnhorst and Gneisenau. One of the German escort ships was the Ziethen commanded by Captain Von Lutz. Charybdis engaged Ziethen but was sunk. However, Brown survived. The engagement had left the Ziethen seriously damaged and its captain determined to seek refuge anchored in the concealing bay that the island Resolution offered.

Aware that the British fleet were scouring the Pacific, Albert Brown set out to prevent the Germans making Ziethen seaworthy. Then it’s a battle of wits and indomitable courage.

A gripping and at times quite moving account of lives well lived – and sacrificed.

And an excellent cover painting.

Editorial comment:

Word repetition didn’t bother Forester – see the above quotation: ‘quite’. It doesn’t matter.

He was fond of ‘myriad’, used often.

The apparently cold calculating analytical narrative works very well. The omniscient viewpoint was necessary to convey the truth of the story.

 

 

A Dangerous Fortune - Book review

 Ken Follett’s family saga, published in 1993, is yet another of his fast-paced satisfying historical novels; the 596 pages simply sped by.

Set in the period 1866 to 1892, the saga revolves around the Pilasters, a banking family. Young Hugh harks from the ‘unfortunate’ side of the family; his father committed suicide on being ruined in a financial collapse not of his making. Yet Hugh is bright and quick to learn, unlike Edward, his cousin, who is incompetent, cowardly and unimaginative. Also affected by the financial disaster is Maisie: her father loses his job, so she and her brother run away to save their parents from worrying about them.

The story begins at private boys’ school when an illicit absence of a small group turns into a drowning. Among those involved are Hugh, Edward and Micky Miranda. To cover up the tragic death and ostensibly protect Edward, Micky lies to Edward’s mother, the powerful attractive Augusta. Over the years Micky inveigles himself into the Pilaster family and once leaving college he is taken into the banking fraternity. Meanwhile, Hugh works his way up from a lowly position in the London bank.

Hugh meets and becomes enraptured by the wilful Maisie, who has grown into an enchanting woman desired by many men in London society. His brief liaison is discovered by Augusta and rather than he be exposed and bring scandal upon the family, she arranges for Hugh to be transferred to the American branch of the bank.

However, as the years pass, Hugh makes a success of his transfer and finally returns to London to acclaim from his seniors. Unfortunately, Micky has meanwhile been plotting to indulge his brigand of a father by arranging dubious loans to his country, Cordova in South America. Exposure of this scheme would ruin the bank and the Miranda family’s chances of a coup against the incumbent dictator. The stakes are raised.

All the characters are well drawn, and either evoke sympathy or anger as they contend with events out of their control. The period is shown in its finery, its sordidness, and the hypocrisy of the times. Some of the sex scenes might distress those of a ‘sensitive disposition’ but I believe they’re true to the period. Above all it’s a story of international finance, the establishment’s complicity in shady dealings, the betrayal of friends, the manipulation of weak men and women, multiple murder, and, above all, love and honour.

There are enough twists and turns in the plot to keep you reading to find out what happens next. I’ve yet to read a bad book by Ken Follett, and this is no exception.

STAGECOACH - The BFI Classics book

 

This 95-page appraisal of the classic 1939 John Wayne/John Ford film (published in 1992) is written by Edward Buscombe, who is also the editor of The BFI Companion to the Western.

Seven of producer Walter Wanger’s pictures for United Artists hadn’t made a profit. So Wanger was told to rein back his budgets. Ford’s project to film ‘Stage to Lordsburg’ appealed: ‘a talented, tested and prestigious director, relatively unknown and therefore inexpensive stars and a type of story which, even if Westerns were not fashionable, was nevertheless of proven appeal.’ (p17).

The filming lasted about two months. But due to Wanger’s financial situation, UA wouldn’t agree to filming in colour, which was a great shame, considering the spectacular vistas presented by Monument Valley. At that time colour added about 30% to production costs. The film came in under budget, costing about $531,000. The salaries of some of the picture’s stars were Claire Trevor, $15,000; Andy Devine, $10,000; Thomas Mitchell, $12,000 (and he won an Oscar for the part too!); John Wayne, $3,700, considerably less than four other travellers in the stagecoach! (p18)

Essentially there are two narrative strands to the plot: first, a journey through dangerous terrain, echoing The Odyssey; second, revenge, which is as ancient as the Greek myth. The latter is ‘driven by the hero’s sense of personal honour, an inner compulsion rather than an external threat.’ (p25) And the theme emphasises that good prevails over evil.

One of the reasons for the film being a classic is the canny juxtaposition of the nine travellers in the stagecoach, and how they rub against each other, revealing their characters. The driver Buck, the whiskey drummer, Peacock, meek in character and temperament (played by Donald Meek), the Southern gambler Hatfield who is not quite the gentleman he likes to think he is, the disdainful and felonious banker Gatewood who is anxious to abscond, the wan wilting flower of womanhood, Lucy, keen to join her cavalry officer husband, well-oiled Doc Boone, evicted from the town for drunkenness and not paying his rent, escaped jailbird Ringo Kid, joining the coach a short way outside town, shotgun rider Sheriff Wilcox (who promptly arrests Ringo), and Dallas (who ‘is never actually named as a prostitute, but only the young and innocent Ringo does not instantly recognise her profession’[p37]).  

Between the lines, Ford reveals that ‘respectability and morality are very far from being the same thing.’ (p37)

Needless to say, screenwriter Dudley Nichols had to considerably enlarge upon the original short story. Lucy, the army wife, is not pregnant in the story; Nichols’s injection of her gravid state and the subsequent birth seem ‘expressly designed to give the film appeal to a more mixed audience.’ (p54)

Due recognition is also given to stuntman Yakima Canutt: ‘his contribution to the film was considerable,’ with examples. (p67)

Interestingly, Orson Welles confessed he learned to be a director by watching John Ford’s films: ‘John Ford was my teacher. My own style has nothing to do with his, but Stagecoach was my movie text-book. I ran it over forty times.’ (p58)

The book concludes with details about the press releases, the film’s overwhelmingly positive reception, and John Ford’s subsequent career and status. Throughout, the pages are interspersed with black-and-white stills.

An excellent insight into a piece of cinematic history.

There are many other BFI Classic books available; check them out on Amazon – search for ‘BFI Classics’

 

* BFI = British Film Institute