Here, have some super weird, left field Edgar Wallace. Planetoid 127 is short, a little bit terrible, and sort of like what might happen if Edgar Wallace were writing Tom Swift. Read the rest of this entry ?
Posts Tagged ‘edgarwallace’
I am all set to go on an Edgar Wallace kick. It will actually be a delayed-onset Edgar Wallace kick. Thursday last week I was hunting around for something to read and found myself wishing I owned more Edgar Wallace. I eventually settled for one of Peter O’Donnell’s Modesty Blaise books — and then three more — but the yen for Edgar Wallace was still there and last night I went over to Project Gutenberg Australia (is it illegal for me to download post-1923 books from there? I don’t think I want to know) and read Room 13, featuring Wallace’s series detective J.G. Reeder.
So, here’s the thing about Edgar Wallace — I’ve talked about it before — every time I try to write about one of his books in particular I end up taking about his books in general. It’s like most authors’ books are individual objects, which can be discussed and compared, but Edgar Wallace’s fiction is a fairly homogenous substance to be measured out in page-lengths. I’m going to pretend for a moment that it’s not, though, and that Room 13 stands alone and has nothing to do with any other book. And when I am done, I will have described a pretty typical Edgar Wallace thriller. Read the rest of this entry ?
This is probably the fourth or fifth time that I’ve tried to sit down and write about an Edgar Wallace book. And I’m not counting Tam o’ the Scoots, because that’s not the typical Edgar Wallace crime thriller thing. Although, to be fair, neither is The Four Just Men. I tend to try to explain what Edgar Wallace is about, which is difficult because he’s so casual and scattered and ridiculous. And then I end up making a lot of broad generalizations and comparisons to E. Phillips Oppenheim, and eventually I realize that I haven’t said much of anything about the book. I don’t think I ought to have to do that here, because, while The Four Just Men is set in the same milieu as Wallace’s usual crime thrillers, it’s not as crazy. Still, though. Anyway, this isn’t a review. This is me writing about Edgar Wallace and not knowing how to read it back. Read the rest of this entry ?
When it comes to early 20th century thriller writers, Edgar Wallace is easily my favorite, in spite — or perhaps because — of the fact that his books are mostly ridiculous and terrible. But Tam O’ the Scoots is not terrible at all. Tam O’ the Scoots doesn’t know what terrible is.
It is kind of ridiculous, of course, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Read the rest of this entry ?
There have been a lot of articles and blog posts floating around lately about what to read if you’re into Downton Abbey. One in particular, which talked about Elizabeth von Arnim apropos of one character giving a copy of Elizabeth and Her German Garden to another, made Evangeline at Edwardian Promenade say, “hey, what about Elinor Glyn?” Which, obviously, is the correct response to everything. And then I read it, and thought, “yeah, Elizabeth and her German Garden was popular when it came out in 1898, but would people really be trying to get each other to read a fifteen year-old(ish) novel by a German author during World War I?” And then we decided that we could probably come up with an excellent list of Edwardian and World War I-era fiction that tied in the Downton Abbey. And so we did.
It’s a pretty casual list, mostly composed of things we came up with off the tops of out heads, a bit of research on Evangeline’s part and a bit of flipping through advertisements on mine, so we’re making no claims to be exhaustive. If you have suggestions for additions to the list, leave a comment.