Kidnap Fury of the Smoking Lovers by Peter Benson

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Peter Benson combines a strong narrative with a poetic sensibility in a way that is rare.

There will be spoiler in what follows …

While the central narrative has power it is surrounded by unresolved plot lines … in partiular the sub-plot of the private detective Derek Muir – briefly engaged by Harry Swaine to track down Fargo and Anne but then ending up in his own messy scene of domestic violence, which happens mid-way through the book but has no impact on anything else that happens. It feels like it is a stand alone short story that has got accidentally included.

In the same way Harry and Anne’s sons clearly have significant backstories but these are never unpacked so they sort of hang there serving no purpose.

The love story of Anne and Fargo is charming, and you will them on, you want this sort of fairy tale love to work, and Peter Benson gives us that story.

Harry Swaine is the villain of the piece, and yet there are moments when, for all his wrongs, you feel sorry for him – there is no excuse for being a bully but there are reason why people turn out like that.

The Second Cut by Louise Welsh

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To write the sequel to your debut novel after a wait of 20 years is an interesting move (there has been plenty of other work published in between) – that long pause contrasts with the 14 months between my reading of this pair.

Rilke’s world is no less seedy, there is an edge to his existence which is attractive – he remains an outside in a society that increasingly invites cis-gender gay white men to become part of what counts as “conformity” - we are given the choice of being part of “normal” or remaining with our queerer siblings.

That Louise Welsh writes Rilke with such authenticity is a real skill – he is rough around the edges in a way that makes him a fully rounded character – you feel you have probably meet him somewhere – there are not cardboard cut outs in the core cast.

One insight I particularly enjoyed was this:

“… he had offered me a whisky. Some other night I might have accepted, but it was late, and a whisky with a lonely man is never one whisky.” (p171)

A piece of wisdom I have sometimes missed – there was a time I fell for the “come on now, one for the road” line into double figures.

I will now read some of her other works – these two books about Rilke are so well crafted I wonder if Rilke is a particular muse or if the rest at equally pitch prefect…