Kent is a pseudonym for Douglas Reeman, a British author who has written dozens of books, set mostly in the Napoleonic era and the Second World War.

I’ve been reading novels from the Bolitho series. Richard Bolitho rose to high rank following a series of victories against American and French ships.

Bolitho was known for his tactical ingenuity and his unorthodox methods to achieve extraordinary results.

The early novels I read were fast paced and detailed in their description of various battles.

I was lucky enough to pick up a couple of the books marked down at a local store, while I obtained the others from the Mount Gambier Library.

The library may have the entire series, but several books were missing on the two occasions I went in there, so I’ve had to skip a few along the way to “Beyond the Reef” in which Bolitho is a vice-admiral.

This book is an absolute dud. I mentioned in a previous post how a football coach had a “brain explosion”. I don’t know what Reeman was thinking when he wrote Beyond the Reef, but it’s so far removed from his earlier works that I wonder if it wasn’t just churned out to top up his retirement fund.

Instead of being focused on naval strategy and life at sea it’s mostly about Bolitho’s love life, the machinations of his (understandably) bitter wife and nasty sister, the demise of his friendship with an old colleague and other such tribulations.

Even the shipwreck on a reef while bound for Cape Town was a dramatic anti-climax. Instead of grappling with pirates or slavers, Bolitho and his sweetheart are conveniently rescued and spirited back to England.

I’m afraid I can’t even bring myself to finish this book. I’m so glad I didn’t pay for it.

I’m not alone in holding this view, as this review from Amazon shows:

By now we’ve heard almost all the sail commands and maneuvers possible, and Kent seems to have run out of new sea lore. This is another book in which Bolitho’s passionate interest in his married lover Catherine takes pride of place to sea action. Kent is spinning his wheels in these later stories, or better said: “he’s all aback, an’ that’s no error.” Now that Richard Bolitho has been an admiral for a while, he’s become more involved with grand strategy than small ship actions, and Kent is harder pressed to make him an exciting figure. This is probably true to life but makes for a tedious tale. Symptomatic of the problem is the fact the publisher devotes most of the cover blurb to the author’s credentials to write such a book, and only two sentences to the story. The “Reefs” of the title are more metaphorical than geographic: the estrangement of Bolitho and his favorite officer, Herrick; Herrick’s court-martial; Bolitho’s cruel sister; Herrick’s betrayal; and Bolitho’s continuing estrangement from power and reward due to envy and his illicit affair. Despite his youthful appearance, a lifetime’s violent assaults and horrific losses are grinding Bolitho down. Kent’s mistake may have been to start Bolitho too early in his career and promote him too rapidly, arriving at flag rank too long before the convenient end of the Napoleonic world wars. Kent seems to be grooming Admiral Bolitho’s nephew, frigate Captain Adam Bolitho, for better and more cheerful stories in the future.

I would add that Reeman’s other mistake was not to know when to end a good thing.

Not in the same league as the Flashman series, the story meanders, tackles social issues, skirts around social issues, entertains and frustrates, but generally leaves the reader feeling good.

The main character is Mark Franklin, an American who sets tongues wagging in England when he arrives with seemingly unlimited wealth.

It transpires he once flirted with the wrong side of the law before striking it rich when he discovered a massive silver deposit.

Mr Franklin, as he is described throughout the book, is unpretentious but happily mingles with the English upper class.

He buys a home in the Norfolk village where his family hailed from and becomes accepted as the squire.

He stumbles across King Edward VII on a picnic and immediately finds himself mixing in royal society.

Mr Franklin employs a valet to train him in social etiquette, marries well and establishes a London household.

The dark side emerges when the marriage falters, a ruffian from Mr Franklin’s past needs despatching with a bullet, his wife’s brother steals money from him and gets himself killed and war clouds hover.

There are cameo appearances from General Sir Harry Flashman and some discussion of women’s suffrage issues.

I liked the descriptions of English upper class life in the early 20th century. Certainly it must have been a happy and carefree period before the First World War intervened. How terrible and senseless that was.

Mr Franklin frustrated me somewhat. He is portrayed as in control and astute, but allows himself to be deceived by his wife and her family.

Apart from some charity toward a distant relative he doesn’t use his wealth and position for any significant positive good.

I mentioned in January last year that George MacDonald Fraser had passed away.

That was a shame because he could definitely have written some more Flashman yarns. They will remain his best works.

This one isn’t strictly related to the Miner, but I should be able to adapt it for the book somehow.

Shortly after I arrived at the paper I noticed a magazine article pasted to the outside of my office window facing the sub-editors.

It was a story about a man who died at his desk and served as a warning to all of us: don’t be a slave to the office.

The article was eventually taken down, but it springs back into my mind occasionally. So tonight I went searching for it on the internet:

Bosses of a publishing firm are trying to work out why no-one noticed that one of their employees had been sitting dead at his desk for FIVE DAYS before anyone asked if he was feeling okay.

George Turklebaum, 51, who had been employed as a proof-reader at a New York firm for 30 years, had a heart attack in the open-plan office he shared with 23 other workers.

He quietly passed away on Monday, but nobody noticed until Saturday morning when an office cleaner asked why he was still working during the weekend.

His boss Elliot Wachiaski said: “George was always the first guy in each morning and the last to leave at night so no-one found it unusual that he was in the same position all that time and didn’t say anything. He was always absorbed in his work and kept much to himself.”

A post mortem examination revealed that he had been dead for five days after suffering a coronary. Ironically, George was proof-reading manuscripts of medical textbooks when he died.

That story appears on Snopes.com under the headline “Working stiff” and apparently it’s an urban legend.

Searching for it though, I found a story which does appear to be true from Finland, courtesy the BBC:

A tax office official in Finland who died at his desk was not found by his colleagues for two days. The man in his 60s died last Tuesday while checking tax returns, but no-one realised he was dead until Thursday.

The head of personnel at the office in the Finnish capital, Helsinki, said the man’s closest colleagues had been out at meetings when he died. He said everyone at the tax office was feeling dreadful – and procedures would have to be reviewed.

An anonymous government official told BBC News Online the man had been working in his own office with the door closed. “People thought he wanted to work in peace and no-one disturbed him,” the official said.

He was found only when a friend called to have lunch with him.

Whether fact or fiction, next time you see a work colleague snoozing at their desk, give them a nudge.

Pillars is an all-time classic, a modern masterpiece in my opinion. I guess it’s not easy to follow an epic with an epic, which is probably why it took author Ken Follett 18 years to write World Without End.

I won’t rehash the storyline here. Basically it continues the trials and tribulations of Kingsbridge, its inhabitants and cathedral.

The setting is 200 years after Pillars and the narrative is through the eyes of the descendants and successors of the main characters in the original novel.

World Without End is a very good book and well worth reading. It’s probably not necessary to read Pillars first, but that would assist with context.

I don’t think it’s as good as Pillars. It’s hard to describe why I say that, so take it as the subjective statement it is.

World Without End just lacks a certain grandeur compared with Pillars. It’s more like a Mercedes than a Rolls Royce.

It’s the first in a series of satirical novels based on the fictional character of Harry Flashman, expelled for drunkenness from Rugby School, who goes on to serve with British forces in Afghanistan.

Flashman is the bully from “Tom Brown’s Schooldays” by Thomas Hughes.

He’s also a liar and a coward with enormous good luck. He doesn’t count his luck though while wrestling a dwarf over a snake pit and waiting manacled for a woman he raped to castrate him, but he manages to escape these and other difficulties to become an unlikely hero.

The book is written as a journal and apparently on its release in the United States, 10 out of 34 original reviewers believed that Flashman was a real person.

Fraser’s detailed research gives the book an appearance of authenticity, but Flashman is such a cad that it’s hard to believe anyone could be fooled.

The real events in this book concern the disastrous retreat from Kabul in 1842 of which only a few hundred survived out of 14,000 due to General Elphinstone’s incompetence.

In the novel, before deciding to retreat, “Elphy” sent for his pistols. His servant dropped one, firing a bullet which grazed the general’s buttock. A fellow officer remarked:

The Afghans murder our people, try to make off with our wives, order us out of the country, and what does our commander do? Shoots himself in the arse — doubtless in an attempt to blow his brains out. He can’t have missed by much.

The book is filleded with gems like that one and I can’t wait to continue the series.

Apart from computers and electronic bar codes, libraries haven’t changed much since I last visited regularly some 20 years ago. Funnily enough they’re still full of books.

I picked up an interesting non-fiction book at Myrtleford yesterday called "Falkland Islanders at War" by Graham Bound.

It looks at the 1982 war from the perspective of residents, and covers in detail the short period of Argentine occupation.

Seems hard to believe the Falklands War was 23 years ago. I’m feeling my age.

It’s the first in O’Brian’s Aubrey-Maturin series and I’m glad I started here, as it sets the scene for future novels.

Jack Aubrey is a frustrated lieutenant waiting in a Mediterranean port for his first command of the Napoleonic War when he meets out-of-work doctor Stephen Maturin.

They don’t immediately hit it off, as Maturin arrogantly disturbs Aubrey’s toe tapping at a classical concert, however they meet later on better terms and begin a close friendship.

Aubrey gains a captain’s lapel and is appointed to command the sloop Sophie. He recruits Maturin as surgeon and they set off on escort duty before Aubrey turns attention to the more lucrative task of capturing enemy merchant vessels.

This commercial liking for prizes causes some tension with Aubrey’s Irish lieutenant James Dillon, who unknown to the captain, was a colleague of Maturin’s in Wolfe Tone’s ill-fated rebellion of the United Irishmen and a Catholic.

Dillon becomes openly hostile towards Aubrey after the Sophie flees a larger Spanish warship.

The vessels cross paths again later and this time Aubrey takes up the challenge and wins famously against the much larger ship, but Dillon was killed in action.

Aubrey never receives official praise for the victory, mainly because his immediate commander holds a grudge over an affair that Aubrey is having with the commander’s wife.

This book is beautifully written. The detail for this landlubber is superb, without detracting from the pace of the action.

There is great humour, especially in the descriptions of characters and circumstances. People of rank are shown to have the same flaws and foibles as ordinary seamen.

The book ends with Aubrey being cleared at court-martial of any offence in losing the Sophie to a French flotilla. That sets the scene for the next instalment, Post Captain, which I can’t wait to arrive from my supplier.

I’ve written mainly here about Aubrey, because the chronology follows his fortunes, but Maturin is a fascinating character.

Down on his luck, but maintaining high dignity, he speaks many languages, mixes well with all classes, is highly intelligent, aloof but companionable.

He’s described in the book cover as a "secret agent", but apart from some mixing with Spanish civilians he doesn’t show much of the spy in this book. I assume that’s to come in later novels.

O’Brian wrote 20 books in this series before his death in 2000. He also wrote other fiction and two biographies, including that of botanist Joseph Banks, who sailed with Cook to Australia and the South Pacific.

O’Brian rightly deserves praise for realistically capturing the idiom of 18th century English, his thorough research and historical accuracy.

Henderson is a rich American who inherited his fortune. He’s a strong man and a Second World War veteran with an eccentric outlook on life.

At the age of 56, Henderson tags along with a honeymoon couple to Africa, but splits from the pair after falling out with the woman.

He decides to venture into the interior and sets off with a guide to visit the Arnewi people. These are a peaceful cow-loving tribe and Henderson, a pig breeder, feels at home among them.

They’re suffering a drought and their water supply is contaminated by frogs. Their superstition forbids them killing the frogs, but Henderson is under no such restrictions and gained tacit approval to act.

He devised a scheme to dynamite the frogs and this was successful, however he also blasted the retaining wall and the tribe’s water supply washed away.

Henderson left the Arnewi in shame and disgrace to visit the neighboring Wariri people, hoping news of his frog debacle didn’t precede him.

He attended a local festival and was the only man present able to lift a stone statue of the Wariri rain goddess, Mummah, causing him to be proclaimed Sungo, the rain king.

Unknown to Henderson, he also became next in line to the throne.

He enjoyed a close relationship with the king, Dahfu, and that’s where the story stalled as they engaged in philosophical discussions while trying to tame a lion under the king’s palace.

It’s evident from this brief summary that the plot is amusing and captivating, so it seemed a shame to interrupt the thread with deeper meaning that escaped me.

Dahfu eventually died, mauled by another lion, and Henderson was held securely pending his coronation. The idea of being king appealed to him, although he was concerned at being able to serve the 64 royal wives and so escaped.

This book won’t appeal to everyone, but it has much merit and certainly fits the bill if you’re looking for something different.

Pillars was memorable in its scope and style; a classic piece of literature. Eye of the Needle was a letdown in comparison.

This was Follett’s first book and it’s fair to say he’s improved considerably as a writer. Eye of the Needle is a spy drama set in the Second World War. It’s about a German spy in Britain who learns the truth of preparations for D-Day.

History tells us the Germans knew there would be a counter-invasion of France, but didn’t know where the assault would begin. If Rommel’s tanks had been waiting on the beaches of Normandy the outcome may have been different.

Follett’s character is thwarted from telling Berlin the truth of his discovery by a Professor turned spycatcher and a beautiful woman he beds and doesn’t have the heart to kill.

It was all rather soapy and a little “boy’s own”. The English military stereotypes were all there. It was more like reading Biggles than the Follett of Pillars.

The ending was the best part, and I don’t mean that to sound sarcastic. The writing was much sharper and the suspense built nicely.

A narrative technique in the early stages irritated me. Follett interrupted the story flow several times to introduce irrelevant third-party characters to give a different perspective on things that were happening in the world around them. For example, the military build-up was a hoax that involved cardboard cut-outs of tanks and aircraft. The spy was interested in this, of course, but I couldn’t see the relevance of introducing a local landowner scratching his head at the strange sight.

I gave this book two stars because it compared poorly with Pillars. It could have scraped in for three stars and I won’t go so far to say you shouldn’t read it. The story is enjoyable without being memorable.

There are hints of Jude and Tess in the tragic elements of Pillars, and the rural landscape also reminds of Hardy. The chronology of families through generations, and the gripping narrative, will be familiar to readers of Smith.

But the brilliant writing, the vivid imagination, the historical research and the intriguing peculiarity of the storyline are unique. I have never read anything as moving and powerful as this book.

Set in rural England in the 12th century it tells the fictional backdrop to the building of a giant cathedral at Kingsbridge. The hero is a humble monk, Philip, who becomes Prior of the Benedictine Monastery.

He is a true man of God, concerned about the practical needs of his flock as well as their souls. His virtue is manipulated by others, but he learns worldly skills and succeeds against great odds in building a prosperous community.

The political situation is dire. England plunged into chaos after King Henry I died without a male heir. Constant civil war raged while the new King Stephen fought Henry’s daughter Maud and her supporters for power.

This gave the barons tremendous local power and they generally abused it. The evil character in this book, William Hamleigh, becomes Earl of Shiring and runs amok. He’s a brutal man who steals, rapes and murders at will. He fears Hell, but a corrupt Bishop gives him absolution for each terrible crime and schemes with William for greater power.

Pillars also traces the family of Tom, a mason whose dream is to build a great cathedral. Tom falls on hard times, thanks in part to William, and his first wife dies in the forest during winter while giving birth in the open air.

Tom leaves the baby to die, but conscience prompts his return to the scene. The baby though is gone. He later discovers it was found by a passing priest and taken to Prior Philip’s monastery.

Tom wins support from Prior Philip to rebuild the Kingsbridge Cathedral after it was mysteriously burnt to the ground. Tom’s stepson Jack was responsible for the arson, but this fact never becomes known to anyone except Tom.

I won’t go into much more detail, or it will become confusing. My edition of the book was 1076 pages, which I read in four days.

It ends with the true murder of Thomas Beckett, Archbishop of Canterbury, by knights who thought they were doing the work of Henry II.

It’s a happy, uplifting finish though, and again I won’t reveal the detail here.

This book combines tragedy with humor, gentleness, compassion, good and evil. Right prevails over wrong, but only after a torturous struggle in which scores of innocent people suffer and die.

I really enjoyed the historical setting. The 12th century period fascinates me, especially English history given the political significance of conflict between Church and state, barons and Kings.

Follett also gives a social insight to how people lived at that time.

I’ve been inspired to read more of his work. This was certainly the best book I’ve read in a long time. The author’s comments can be read here.