Bone Dancing, Blood Dancing

Last year we ran a series of posts on Jonathan Gash's Bonn/Burtonall series, but neglected to post the reviews of the final two books. Today, we correct that oversight. To catch you up, here's where we left off:

Book 1: Different Women Dancing

Nik's Review: Different Women Dancing

Jay's Review:  Different Women, Different Reader, Different Review

Book 2: Prey Dancing

Nik's Review: Prey Dancing

Jay's Review: Book Musing: When Characters Seem Too Old

Book 3: Die Dancing

Nik's Review: Outta My Head

Now on to the final two!

Bone Dancing

Available on Amazon: Bone Dancing

So here's a thing. I was quite happily working my way through Bone Dancing, the fourth book in Jonathan Gash's Clare Burtonall series (though I still maintain that it's misnamed, as she is more bystander than protagonist), when I suddenly had a bit of a shock. 

You see, there's one particular sequence I remember from the books (they are indeed unusually memorable). Rack, the main fixer of the seedy world of crime, is refused protection money by the new manager of a car showroom, so he has the entire stock stolen. It's almost peripheral to the story, just a lovely vignette of life in the shadows. 

So, there I am, lapping up the book, when I suddenly realize that I'm virtually at the end and it hasn't happened yet. After a bout of confusion and concerns of incipient senility, I come to a joyful conclusion. 

I'd misremembered. There aren't four books in the series, there are five.

Yes! A whole other book to enjoy! So I suppose that this post should have a subtitle:

Blood Dancing

Available from Amazon: Blood Dancing

The final book (so far, I live in hope) is a real cracker. Not only does it have that sequence that has stuck with me, but Clare Burtonall finally seems more integrated than she has since the first novel, even though the previous book appeared to leave her cast out by her underworld associates. The plot centres around a vigilante wreaking lethal justice on paedophiles. And why not. Well, the why not and its resolution is the core of the story, and it's great. I expect the book is now hard to come by, but it is well, well worth the effort. 

I still have a minor grumble over continuity. There's a definite disconnect between the end of Bone Dancing and the start of Blood Dancing. At the end of Bone Dancing Clare has been cut-off from the underworld syndicate, and given the track record of everyone else who's suffered that fate over the course of books, she's lucky to do so alive. But there's the suggestion that Bonn, her hired lover, will take her as his live-in woman. 

By the start of Blood Dancing, though, there's almost been a reset back to business as usual. Maybe Gash found that the change was too restrictive on the storytelling, I don't know. It certainly didn't lessen my enjoyment of the book, but it's a small niggle nonetheless. 

This is one of my all-time favourite series of books. Please, please, Mr Gash, write another one?

Outta My Head

Since Jay and I are having a blitz on these books at the moment, I thought I'd carry on with the next review. I was also a bit miffed at the fact that her reviews (Book Musing: When Characters Seem Too Old) are better than mine, but I'm not sure that I can do anything about that...

The third book in Jonathan Gash's Bonn/Burtonall series is Die Dancing. 

I've read many, many books in my life. Most have them have faded in my memory, and I have to admit, rather ashamedly, that I probably couldn't tell you the plot of a great many of them, even ones that I've read within the last ten years. I enjoy them at the time, but I often read very quickly, and so they don't stick. 

However, there are certain scenes, phrases and vignettes from books I've read that stick vividly in my memory. Maybe I'll write about some of them later, to explore it a bit more. The reason I bring it up now, though, is that Die Dancing contains one of them. 

I suppose it's a fairly nasty scene, all told. A politician is killed by being thrown from a moving train; but it's not particularly graphic or gruesome. Or is it? The killer doesn't actually just throw out the victim, he holds him out of the door and swings him under the train to make sure. So there's no doubt that that's the end of the chap. It is the details like this that mean I remember it long after the first reading. The killer chuckling to himself before the deed, and turning the laugh into an emphysemic cough to gain the sympathy of an old lady sitting near. The ineffectual watching of the police, checking the train at each station. 

Gash's punchy, rich prose really carries scenes like this, avoiding the wordiness that can simply get in the way of telling the story. So again, this is a great book, and you can safely add it to your list for summer reading. 

Amazon: Die Dancing

There are still the inconsistencies in the editing to frustrate the nitpickers. Jay has gone to town on the characters' apparent ages. There's also an odd thing going on about just how often the male goers take on clients: it seems to be several daily, but then we're told it's only one. Then it's clearly several again. And do they use, ummm, protection, or not? Lets leave that one for now...

I'm going to move on to the final one as soon as I can find it on the bookshelf.  

Book Musing: When Characters Seem Too Old

Nik’s post on Jonathan Gash’s Prey Dancing got me a-thinking: what makes a character read “old” (older than the author intended, presumably)? Words, actions, setting? All of the above?

Like Nik, I was completely surprised to find out that the main characters in Prey Dancing are only in their 20s:  Clare, the doctor, is 28, while Bonn, the mail prostitute, is 20. They read much older than this. I’d pegged Clare at mid-forties and Bonn at early-thirties.

To me, Clare reads older for three main reasons:

1. She has a servant. Well, a housekeeper. But the type that fixes the meals, including tea, and basically runs the household. The type who has the final word on all things house-related and with whom one darest not argue. Maybe it’s a cultural thing, but for me, twenty-something yuppies (do people still say yuppy?) don’t have servants. They’re for people in their forties.

2. She’s amazingly well-established in her profession. I might have the timeline wrong for Britain, but in the States, one graduates from college with a degree in pre-med about 22 or 23, then possibly a year for the MCAT and applications, and then another 4 years of medical school. So upon entering a residency program, one would be about 26 to 28 years. Residency length varies by specialty, but is typically 3-7 years, sometimes followed by a 1-4 year fellowship for certain fields.

Assuming Clare was on the fastest possible track to a basic GP - no year off, minimal residency, no fellowship - she’d have been 25 when she started practicing. I suppose now that I’ve done the math I can see how she could be an established physician at age 28, but that’s definitely not the typical path.

3. She’s astonishingly confident, professionally. Given that she has at most 3 years of real doctoring under her belt, Clare stands up to the nursing staff like she’s run the place for decades. Which isn’t necessarily odd - she could be a supremely confident young woman - except she’s not. Her husband manipulates her to a criminal extent and she crumbles under Bonn (although, to be fair, perhaps that’s more him than her). 

Ah, Bonn. The ultimate female fantasy, able to deliver to a woman exactly what she needs and how she needs it. Able to read a woman, understand her, pleasure her. Pleasure so good that she’s willing to pay for it. Sorry Mr. Gash, but unless things were different in 1998 Britain (and if so, get me to a TARDIS stat), I’m just not buying a 20 year-old’s ability to perform to this degree. Call me ageist, but I just don’t find an almost-still-a-teenager uber-lover a believable character. Now, I’m willing to be proved wrong (wink wink), but in my mind, I’m keeping Bonn at 32.

So what do you think? Does a dichotomy between projected age and actual age bother you as a reader? Do you take it at face value and move on? Drop the book? Or simply rewrite their ages in your mind and get on with it?

Amazon: Prey Dancing

Prey Dancing

Amazon: Prey Dancing by Jonathan Gash

Following hot on the heels of Different Women Dancing, I went through the sequel, Prey Dancing, like a dose of salts. It helped that it was the Easter break, but I do find this series to be real page-turners.

The second novel builds on the first. There are ongoing plot strands running through, but this one has a more clearly self-contained story within it, about gangland violence between rival drug dealers.

What’s good about it? The immersion in the criminal underworld again, with all its associated slang. I like how the violence and reprisals are carefully planned out, so the underworld doesn’t have to be intruded upon by the world of law and order. The violence is generally graphic, but not brutally so.

I don't know whether I'm showing my age, but I wonder whether the characters, pretty much all in their early 20s, sometimes seem a bit too old and well, wise. Maybe that's a reflection of growing up fast on the streets.

All-in-all, I really enjoyed re-reading this. I’ll be straight on to the next book once I’m reunited with my library!

I do have to reiterate a niggle from the first book, though, about the editing. Near the start, Clare Burtonall (the novels are called the “Dr Clare Burtonall" series, and of all the characters I wonder why she gets the lead billing!) has a pillow-talk conversation with Bonn, the goer, and asks about “pollen”: a slang term for drugs. Bonn knows the word but doesn’t let on, and then a short time later we have him asking someone what it means. Come on, Mr Editor! We’re busy authors, help us out here!

Different Women, Different Reader, Different Review

My six year old’s teacher has the kids use the “five finger method” for finding a “just right” book to read. Here’s how it works:

1. Choose a book that looks interesting.
2. Read the first page.
3. Hold up a finger for each word you don’t know or are not quite sure about.
4. If you have one finger up (or none), the book is too easy. Two to three fingers up means it’s just right.  Four, and you should give it a go (or try another page) but it might be a little challenging. Five or more fingers, choose an easier book.

Okay then. Nik's pick of Different Women Dancing by Jonathan Gash. 1998 edition, page one:

• Finger 1: Stringers - Not the type one uses in buildings, I’m guessing by the context, as these are referred to as girl stringers. Or maybe it’s a girl building? Or a boy building with girl parts?

• Finger 2: Temazepam flogger - Who is Temazepam and why is the poor guy being flogged? Or maybe he's read too much Shade of Grey and wants his turn under the flogger? 

• Finger 3: Yellow jellies - Mmm, jelly!

• Finger 4: Standers - Someone who stands? But it's used in a more sinister way, “the standers caught them," so like some sort of standing spider creature that catches people?

• Finger 5: Locum - used in different place as an adjective, a noun, and a verb! So one could have a locum doing locum at a locum locum?

So five fingers up and feeling very under-educated for this book. But Nik assured me it’s worth the read (see his post, "Different Women Dancing"), so I got a good night’s sleep, laid off the red wine, and tried again. And it was, most definitely, worth the read.

It turns out the reader isn’t supposed to know some of the words right away, like “stringers” and “standers.” These are particular aspects of the underworld syndicate upon which the story is based and their meaning comes out through the narrative. The story is captivating, following Dr. Clare Burtonall as she digs deeper and deeper into the workings of the city’s underground, trying to discover what her husband is hiding. The new words keep coming and coming, but the story’s so strong and the context so revealing that within just a few pages the new terms stopped tripping me up. (Plus Gash includes a definition at the start of each subsequent chapter for the slower folk amongst us.)

As for the rest of the not-just-right words from page one, here’s what the Google revealed:

• Temazepam is a prescription sleep medication, also used as no-go pills for military pilots.

• Googling flogger gets you mostly BDSM links but…umm…where was I? Oh yeah, informally it’s an aggressive salesperson.

• Yellow jellies brings up both Spongebob sandals and illegal drugs. I'm thinking Gash meant the latter.

• A locum is what we’d call a sub in the States, “a person who temporarily fulfills the duties of another.”  So a sub could be subbing as a sub teacher, got it.

Different Women Dancing

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

I’m a big fan of Jonathan Gash. A recent post here ("Very Public Diary of a Call Girl") reviewed a book that’s rumored to be one of his first pieces of writing: an autobiographical account of prostitution. 

I’ve just finished re-reading Different Women Dancing, the first novel in a series of four set in the world of crime and prostitution in a northern English city (it’s Manchester, though that’s never actually explicitly stated). In fact, I wish there were a lot more in the series. Gash wrote 20-odd “Lovejoy” novels, set in the world of antiques crime, and I think this is his only other series, other things he wrote being one-offs. Gash is retired now (he was a medical doctor when not writing great fiction), so maybe there’s no chance of more to come. If you’re reading this, Mr Gash, I’d really appreciate just one more, please?

Different Women Dancing’s a fantastic read. There’s various things I like about it:

1. The complete immersion in the slang terminology. Each Chapter comes with a definition: “Goer: a male hired by a female for sexual purposes”. The main protagonist is Bonn, a goer who was a former seminarian, which makes for some interesting narrative.
2. The fact that the book plays out almost as an assemblage of scenes, with the plot going on in the background. I like books like this: it somehow seems more like a reflection of real life.
3. The fact that the book is definitely the start of a series. I mean that in the sense that at the end of the book, there are still things happening in various plot threads. Very little has been completely resolved, and there is more still to happen. Again, a bit like life!

I only have one very minor niggle, which really mustn’t stop you reading the book. Towards the end, there’s a conversation on one page which a character plays back differently just a couple of pages later. I had to flick back and check “no, she didn’t say that”. So come on, Mr Editor. In fairness, if I’d stopped at the end of a Chapter and had a break I probably wouldn’t have noticed. It’s little glitches like that, “continuity errors” as they’re known on TV, that are rare enough to be surprising when they occur.

Jay read this one, too, so over to her soon for a better review than this!

Very Public Diary of a Call Girl

A few weeks ago I was browsing a catalogue of second-hand books, and came across one called "Streetwalker"; subtitled "An autobiographical account of a prostitute". Not usually my thing: the whole "Secret Diary of a Call Girl" cult and its ilk hold no appeal for me. "Streetwalker" caught my eye because it has been attributed in authorship (maybe ghost authorship) to Jonathan Gash. Gash is a hugely prolific author, best known for the Lovejoy crime novels set in the world of antiques; he also wrote some excellent, excellent novels set in the world of prostitution. I think they're fantastic, and will write more about them and Gash's other books before too long. 

The book was a rather costly first edition, but I found a more affordable copy of a later impression. A nice old hardback, with a testimonial on the cover from Sir John Wolfenden, author of a major government report in the UK in the 1950s that featured prostitution and led to the legalisation of homosexuality. 

So did Gash write "Streetwalker"? I've done considerable research* but it was inconclusive. The book reads more like fiction than fact. If it was written by Gash, I would guess that it has some basis in fact. It's not a great book. There's no hugely titillating sex, in fact the small amount of sex is glossed over. The protagonist's life comes across as pitiful, tawdry, and entirely unenviable; full of rejection, fear and violence. The book itself has the ring of fiction, but the story itself rings true. 

*  Research = I Googled it

   Extensive research = I used Wikipedia

   Considerable research = I Googled it and clicked on more than one link