22. And Then There Were None

By Agatha Christie

5. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall

By Anne Brontë 

I'm not very knowledgeable about classic literature and had only heard about the existence of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall when I read that it influenced Elizabeth Hand's 2015 novel, Wylding Hall.  

 

But after the crushing disappointment of A Haunting on the Hill (2023), I wasn't all that interested anymore, as the premise of Wylding Hall sounded too much like A Haunting on the Hill. If those theatre types annoyed me to no end, I could only imagine how members of a rock band would be much better.  Since Wylding Hall was written first, there's a chance it's better written.  

Anyway, I still wanted to read the Anne Bronte novel. I got this Arcturus trade paperback from Indigo for only $7.  They had a 3 for $12 classic fiction deal but the ones I wanted were sold out.

 

Surprisingly, my friend, who was visiting from Winnipeg at the time, and who's read a lot more classic fiction than I have, was also not aware of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.  I think its obscurity (at least compared to Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre) was due to its rather scandalous and shocking content - at least, according to Victorian standards.  It was deemed "coarse" and "brutal" for its unflinching depictions of alcoholism, adultery, marital abuse, and a wife leaving her husband—which was apparently illegal at the time.

I wasn't sure what to expect, but I knew to not expect any romance.  In the end, I really enjoyed TToWH.  It was very well-written, a colourful cast of characters and had some keen insights about Victorian society. And there was some romance after all, mainly from the perspective of Gilbert Markham, as the lovesick protagonist.  

 

The novel began with a letter written by Gilbert to a friend, describing the recent arrival of an attractive young widow and her son as the new tenants of Wildfell Hall and how it was drawing much gossip and curiosity amongst the small community.  When Gilbert met Helen, he found her proud and aloof, and they didn't get along very well at first. Over time he became drawn to her honesty, intelligence and depth of character which was very different from the superficial wiles of the local girls.  But Gilbert was still immature in many ways and made the wrong assumption that Helen was having an affair with her landlord Frederick Lawrence.  This forced  Helen to show Gilbert her journal which explained her entire backstory of how she ended up at Wildfell Hall.  The whole story was long and drawn out like a Jane Austen novel, but well worth the wait, for there was a happy ending. Phew!

After the dark cesspool of despair and deviance in Grotesque, it was nice to read something "lighter" in tone.  Although I was expecting a rather violent depiction of domestic discord, I was nevertheless affected by Helen Huntington's plight being married to an irresponsible and alcoholic narcissist. Even though Arthur Huntington was never physically violent, he was very controlling, as well as verbally and emotionally abusive.  He was also unfaithful -- his relationship with his friend's wife was an open secret among his circle of wealthy gentlemen. The depiction of their partying was something to behold.  

Most of the classic lit that I've read were of fairly "respectable" people with the odd character, like George Wickham, who was the black sheep.  In the world of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, we were given a firsthand perspective of what it's like to live in a toxic marriage. Bronte presented all the red flags early on in the courtship between Arthur and Helen.  He would play mind games with the young Helen, who fell for it hook line and sinker through her naivete.  In Victorian times, a woman would be trapped in such a marriage with no hope for divorce.  Even though Arthur Huntington was a fairly wealthy gentlemen, he was a boorish man and indulged in licentious, hedonistic behaviour.  He and his circle of friends often got together to carouse and were basically party animals.  As a wife, you either put up with it, or you joined them, like Lady Lowborough, who becomes Arthur's mistress.

There was a scene where Arthur's friends were staying at his estate, Grassdale Manor, for weeks and weeks.  Not only did Helen have to endure the infidelities of her husband and his mistress, but also the disrespectful behaviour of his awful guests.  Finally, when Lord Lowborough found out about his wife and Arthur, it was a bit of relief as the whole scene was getting quite awful.  Arthur and Helen also had a young son, Arthur Jr, a sweet boy who was becoming wild and out of control under his father’s influence.  With help from her brother, Helen was finally able to escape Grassdale Manor with her son and devoted maid.

I heard that Anne Brontë based a good deal of Arthur Huntington on her own brother, Branwell Brontë. Arthur resembled Branwell in three ways: physical good looks; sexual adventures (before his affair with his employer's wife, Mrs Robinson, Branwell may have fathered an illegitimate child who died at birth) and lastly, his alcoholism. Arthur Huntington was terribly flawed and unlikeable, but he felt very real.

A minor complaint of mine was how Helen Huntington was just a little too perfect.  Her character was imbued with dignity, pureness of heart and an unwavering faith in God.  Her one mistake was marrying Arthur Huntington when she was young and naive. However, I did admire her courage in leaving her awful husband and her ability to use her painting skills to support herself and her son.  The only help she had was from her loyal maid and her brother. I also liked how Gilbert had a good character arc.  He began as a rather immature, cocky young farmer but over the years his love for Helen remained true, and he became someone who was worthy of Helen's love.

I saw the 2022 film Emily, which was loosely based on Emily Bronte. It didn't depict sister Charlotte in a great light, and portrayed Anne as rather meek and passive.  I was never able to finish Wuthering Heights, but I loved Jane Eyre when I read it during my first year at university.  It still remains my favourite of all the books by the Bronte sisters, with The Tenant of Wildfell Hall a close second!

16. The Woman in Black

By Susan Hill

While in Vancouver, we once again visited Tanglewood Books looking for YA fiction for our 12 yo.  I found a trade paperback of The Woman in Black.  Even though I've been aware of Susan Hill's 1983 ghost story for some time (thanks to at least two film adaptations, neither of which I saw), it was Monster, She Wrote that got me to put The Woman in Black in my book list.

I was later surprised to see my daughter had started reading the novella.  When she finished it, she thought it was "all right" (her default answer for most things), though she mostly found it kind of boring.

Now here I am with a short review of The Woman In Black.  I knew I'd appreciate it somewhat more than my Gen Z kid.  Even though it was rather tame in some regards, I found it effectively chilling in a low-key way.  A lot of it had to do with Hill's writing.  It's written in a classic, straightforward manner yet manages to evoke a clear sense of setting and mood, and the narrative is framed from the POV of solicitor Arthur Kripps.  It begins with a middle-aged Kripps spending a Christmas evening with his second wife and two stepchildren.  He's asked to tell a ghost story, but he's unable to because of the traumatic experience he had as a young solicitor in London when he was sent off to a remote region to take care of the affairs of a recently deceased widow at Eel Marsh House.

We follow Kripps on his journey northeast from London to the village of Crythin Gifford. There he meets a local contact and he attends the funeral of Mrs Dablow, the reclusive elderly woman who resided at Eel Marsh House all her life.  It's at the funeral where Kripps first sees a pale, mysterious woman dressed all in black from a distance.  The next day, a local coachman takes Kripps to Eel Marsh House, which is situated on a tidal island and is only accessible via a causeway when the tide is low.  This means that when the tide is high, you're effectively cut off from the mainland and the causeway is only passable twice a day.

...As we drew nearer, I saw that the water was lying only shallowly over the rippling sand on either side of us, and that the line was in fact a narrow track leading directly ahead, as if into the estuary itself. As we slipped onto it, I realized that this must be the Nine Lives Causeway – this and nothing more – and saw how, when the tide came in, it would quickly be quite submerged and untraceable. 

     At first the pony and then the trap met the sandy path, the smart noise we had been making ceased, and we went on almost in silence save for a hissing, silky sort of sound. Here and there were clumps of reeds, bleached bone-pale, and now and again the faintest of winds caused them to rattle dryly. The sun at our backs reflected in the water all around so that everything shone and glistened like the surface of a mirror, and the sky had taken on a faint pinkish tinge at the edges, and this in turn became reflected in the marsh and the water. Then, as it was so bright that it hurt my eyes to go on staring at it, I looked up ahead and saw, as if rising out of the water itself, a tall, gaunt house of grey stone with a slate roof, that now gleamed steelily in the light. It stood like some lighthouse, or beacon or martello tower, facing the whole, wide expanse of marsh and estuary, the most astonishingly situated house I had ever seen or could ever conceivably have imagined, isolated, uncompromising but also, I thought, handsome. As we neared it, I saw the land on which it stood was raised up a little, surrounding it on every side for perhaps three or four hundred yards, of plain, saltbleached grass, and then gravel. This little island extended in a southerly direction across an area of scrub and field towards what looked like the fragmentary ruins of some old church or chapel. 

     There was a rough scraping, as the cart came onto the stones, and then pulled up. We had arrived at Eel Marsh House. 

The village of Crythin Gifford was effectively cursed, but everyone is too frightened to voice it aloud, or unable to warn Arthur because it's something that defies reason and logic.  Arthur Kripps has no choice but to do his job and so he gets himself involved in the local lore after seeing odd sightings of a woman in a black old-fashioned dress.  I feel the old-fashioned ghost story is vastly under-rated and very hard to do well because so much of it hinges on the quality of the writing.  I felt I was inhabiting Arthur's character more than just empathizing with what he's experiencing while he's stuck inside Eel Marsh House seeing strange occurrences he can't explain.

...Last night I had been adamant and would have brooked no possible opposition – I was having nothing more to do with Eel Marsh and the Drablow business but would telegraph to Mr Bentley, leave matters - in the hands of Mr Jerome and take the first available train to London. In short, I was going to run away. Yes, that was how I saw it in the bright light of day. I attached no particular blame to my decision. I had been as badly frightened as a man could be. I did not think that I would be the first to run from physical risks and dangers, although I had no reason to suppose myself markedly braver than the next person. But these other matters were altogether more terrifying, because they were intangible and inexplicable, incapable of proof and yet so deeply affecting. I began to realize that what had frightened me most – and, as I investigated my own thoughts and feelings that morning, what continued to frighten me – was not what I had seen –there had been nothing intrinsically repellent or horrifying about the woman with the wasted face. It was true that the ghastly sounds I had heard through the fog had greatly upset me but far worse was what emanated from and surrounded these things and arose to unsteady me, an atmosphere, a force – I do not exactly know what to call it – of evil and uncleanness, of terror and suffering, of malevolence and bitter anger. I felt quite at a loss to cope with any of these things. 

I can now see how my 12 yo would've found this book rather boring.  Maybe she'll appreciate it when I make her read it when she's fully grown!

I also thought Hammer Films did a really nice job adapting the novel into a 2012 film when I finally watched in some months later.

7. Animal Farm

By George Orwell

 

22. Frankenstein: The Graphic Novel

By Mary Shelley (Published 2009 by Classical Comics)

I plan to read The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein in the very near future and heard that author Kiersten White makes many references to Mary Shelley’s classic novel.  I had read Frankenstein ages ago, either in my teens or twenties, and didn’t want to re-read it again, so I had the brilliant idea of borrowing the graphic novel version from the library. 

 

I didn’t realize until I had finished it that there were two versions of the graphic novel:  Original Text and Quick Text.  Thankfully, I had read the version with the original, though still abridged, text.  Published in 2009, the graphic novel may be a little hard to find now.

 

I couldn’t relate to how incredibly stupid and self-centred Victor Frankenstein was.  I understand the major theme is about the folly of man, but still…

 

I suppose this mirrors life because in the real world, since time immemorial, or at least during humanity’s patriarchal history, there have been plenty of brilliant men who have made incredible innovations, but through some terrible weakness, ie. short-sightedness, greed, narcissism, etc. the invention had wrought more damage than good.  This is the core lesson of Frankenstein. 

It’s an epic tragedy.

 

In the source text, the character of Elizabeth Lanza is rather thinly drawn.  She loves Victor dearly, has a generous heart, and is self-sacrificing.  And she dies by the monster’s hands.  Apparently, the Elizabeth in Kiersten White’s retelling is not only a survivor, but is highly intelligent and calculating.   In a way, I’m glad I re-read the Frankenstein graphic novel as it not only heightened my enjoyment of The Dark Descent..., it was a factor in not seeing how the plot in White’s retelling would play out. 

20. Persuasion

By Jane Austen

14. The Starlight Barking

By Dodie Smith

7. The One Hundred and One Dalmatians

By Dodie Smith

One Hundred and One Dalmatians has been my fave Disney animation for as long as I can remember. Some years ago, I re-watched it with my daughter and she really loved it.   

 

The opening credits had also reminded me that the movie was based on a book by Dodie Smith. I had read the I Capture the Castle, which has been a personal favourite, so I just had to have my own copy of The One Hundred and One Dalmatians.  Not long after, I ordered a new hardbound edition anticipating that my daughter may enjoy that too when she’s able to read.  It’s been sitting in her bookshelf for a few years and just recently, her 10 yo self had picked up the book to read on her own volition!

 

It also made me realize I hadn't yet read the book myself. So as soon as my daughter finished, I started reading it.  I wasn't disappointed -- it was just absolutely charming and delightful.  Even though I only got to the part where Pongo and Missus were making their arduous journey to Suffolk, I asked the kid if she'd like to watch the movie again. She agreed, wanting to watch it that very evening, and so we did (I, ahem, still had the file in the storage drive). It'd been at least a few years, so she didn't remember much of it, so for her  it was like watching it a new again!

 

Watching the film again for the umpteenth time has not lessened my love for it.  I can also better appreciate the wonderful job the Disney folks did by adapting the source material for their animated film.  I also learned some interesting things: 

 

·       Dodie Smith was a consultant for the film, and her story was based on how her own dalmatians had 15 puppies!

·       When she was writing the book, she had actually hoped that Disney would turn it into a film!

·       I didn't realize that 'Sleeping Beauty' was a flop when it came out, which left the studio with a tight budget for 'One Hundred and One Dalmatians', but I think (with the help of Xerox technology) it had worked to their advantage.

·       Not only was the animation gorgeous, but equal attention was paid to the writing, characterization, voice work, music and the inspired idea of basing Cruella de Vil’s looks on actress Tallulah Bankhead!

 

I also loved how Disney kept the 'What's My Crime?' television show from the book, but adding the klever Kanine Krunchies commercial.  It also made sense that the two 'nannies' became one character, and the two female dalmatians, Missus and Perdita, were also merged as one.

 

Some trifling details I noticed now that I'm older (and more cynical)... for instance, how in the movie, Mr Dearly, was a struggling musician with a stay-at-home wife, yet he could afford a townhouse (albeit a modest one) in central London and pay for a full-time housekeeper. In the book, Mr Dearly was a finance wizard who helped the government eradicate debt, and in doing so, was rewarded a nice house in a plum neighbourhood. However, it did make aesthetic sense for the movie to turn Mr Dearly into a musician so the film could have its catchy musical numbers!

 

Dodie Smith also wrote a lesser known sequel to The One Hundred and One Dalmatians – it’s called The Starlight Barking, and I’m determined to find a nice hardcover edition of that too!  However, it’s a little harder to find, and it’s looking like I may have to order a used copy from the UK…

4. The Animals of Farthing Wood

By Colin Dann 

The Animals of Farthing Wood is a classic 'animal journey' tale.  When the forest known as Farthing Wood is in danger of being destroyed by greedy developers, the animal inhabitants have no choice but to leave, but where?  

 

It’s clear from the get-go that author Colin Dann is an animal lover and conservationist.  As a reader, your heart breaks for the animals when the man-made machines arrive to raze their beloved forest.

All day the bulldozers crashed forward on their path of destruction. Shrubs, young trees and undergrowth fell before the cruel onslaught of the monsters’ greedy steel jaws. Old trees, stately and dignified with age, were mercilessly machined down by vicious saws. Yard by yard the forest fell back before the human despoilers; and, crouching in their burrows and tunnels, or huddled in the remaining tree-tops, or cowering under the bracken, the animals of Farthing Wood listened, shuddering, and longed for darkness.

 

Since it’s an animal story, Dann gives his main characters a dominant personality trait that befits a particular species, but over the course of their journey, a few of the key characters learn to overcome their individual flaws and work together for the good of the whole.

 

Toad is the one who discovered a nature reserve when he made his back home after he escaped from a kid’s jar and convinces the animals of Farthing Wood to make the long journey to White Deer Park.  Toad is kind and resilient, but he tires easily.  Badger is practical, gentle and respected by all the animals.  He’s the one who called upon all the animals to assemble inside his largest burrow, which he dug out for the occasion.  He chooses Fox to lead the motley group on their journey as he’s intelligent, courageous and a natural leader.  I think it’s also Badger who establishes a pact so that predator and prey will promise not to harm one another during their journey (they’ll hunt or gather food outside of their own party).

 

Tawny Owl and Kestrel serve as scouts as they fly ahead to pick the safest routes for the travelling group.  Although T-Owl is wise, he’s also quite pompous and tries to mask his fragile ego, which Adder sees through and is quick to poke fun of.  Adder starts off as the aloof and cynical outsider, as befits a deadly snake, but later ends up helping the animals when they’re in a tight spot.  However, my daughter will be sorely disappointed to find the rabbits are typecast as rather hysterical, timid creatures who at one point puts the group in grave danger.

 

As expected, the animals encounter many adventures and pitfalls as they make their way across various landscapes.  Their first danger was caused by a negligent human tossing a cigarette, and the animals end up being trapped inside some blazing woods.  Through quick teamwork, they’re able to help each other over to a small thicketed island in the middle of a large pond and hide while firefighters eventually put out the fire.

There are, of course, observations about humans from animals that are rather obvious, but can be overlooked in a children’s book.

    ‘All this damage and horror was caused by one foolish human,’ said Toad. ‘And all of it has to be put right by these others of his kind who had no hand in it.’

    ‘They’re certainly a strange species,’ agreed Badger. ‘I never pretended to understand them.' 

    As the animals watched the flames gradually diminishing under the efforts of the firefighters, many of them felt, for perhaps the first time, an unusual kinship with the humans who shared their desire to see the fire, their mutual enemy, quenched.  Yet this kindship, they each understood, was to be short-lived. For as soon as the fire was finally overcome, the very present of the humans at such close quarters posed a new problem for their freedom. As long as the mend remained on the other side of the causeway, the animals’ safest escape route was blocked.

Published in 1979, The Animals of Farthing Wood has strong pro-environmental messaging that’s hard to ignore. Even back then, it was critiquing the mass monoculture farming that has taken over the small, traditional farming methods of old. 

    Once again they found themselves surrounded by farmland—only this farmland was different from any they had seen before.  There were no hedgerows dividing the fields, no thatched farm cottages and no ancient lopsided barns.  Everything was conducted in this area in a far more calculated, professional manner. Vast expanses of cereals and root crops grew mathematically in unbordered squares, without a wild flower or grass showing its head, even in corners. All unnecessary plants had been totally cleared away, and the field ha a cold, clinical look about them which seemed unnatural.  The few trees that still existed were giants which had proved, in this cost-obsessed world, too expensive to move, and so they remained.

   … Animals—farm animals, that is—could be heard cackling or grunting to each other, but they were never seen.  It seemed they had all been shut away in the long, low concrete and steel outbuildings that were prevalent.  In the over-heated interiors they were probably quite unaware of the existence of lush green grass spread with buttercups, or blue sky, or the fresh feeling of a shower of rain. 

It doesn’t end there.  It’s not just “soulless farmland” the wild animals found themselves in, but something more sinister, even apocalyptic.  It was a land of death, despite being surrounded by so many crops.  Tired and hungry, they were tempted to eat some vegetables, but Kestrel and Tawny Owl soon figured out that the farm was full of poisonous chemicals.  Even the nearby orchard was littered with the bodies of bullfinches and blackbirds. In another field, they encountered more bodies, even earthworms and bees were impacted.  The animals discuss among themselves the contradiction inherent in humans -- if they are so clever, why would they consume the foods that are themselves full of poison?  I wouldn’t be surprised if Dann was influenced by Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring.

 

Yes, there was some loss and a lot of hardship in their adventurous journey, and thankfully there was a happy ending.  Most of the animals who left Farthing Wood made it to their destination and were welcomed by the inhabitants of White Deer Park.  And naturally, the only kind of human worth revering is the nature-loving scientist.

   ‘My friends,’ [Toad] said in an awestruck tone, ‘that is a Naturalist.’     

    …’Strange to say, there are some humans who are interested in the welfare of wild creatures,’ the heron explained.

   ‘It’s these very people we have to thank for White Deer Park,’ Toad pointed out eagerly. ‘It is they who are responsible for the creation of those havens for wildlife they call Nature Reserves.’    

   ‘It’s only when you learn of such kindness and interest in us creatures,’ said Badger, ‘that you recall that the human race is, after all, a brother species.’        

The Animals of Farthing Wood was an enjoyable book, but I wouldn’t put it in the same category as, say, Mrs Frisby and the Rats of Nimh, which was much more subtle and effective in its messaging AND a fun read.  I’m glad Olman found this book, and that there’s an entire series as well as a TV adaption.  And I think our kid is at the right age to appreciate this book.                                                                 

11. The Face on the Cutting-Room Floor

By Cameron McCabe

Picked this up at a new/used Toronto bookstore, Re:Reading, while visiting a friend in East Danforth back in early August.  It was our first family trip since the pandemic where we travelled beyond the borders of Quebec, primarily to visit my husband’s sister and nephews who were staying in TO throughout August.  

 I couldn’t believe Re:Reading had a used copy of The Face on the Cutting-Room Floor in decent condition.  Like The Darkmasters Trilogy, The Face was one of the “100 Novels about Cinema” featured in the August 2018 issue of Sight and Sound, where I first heard of this unusual hard-boiled murder mystery.

I only started reading The Face on the train ride back home, alone, gloriously alone, while hubs and kid remained in TO for a few more days.  Even though the book was fairly compact, it took me a while to finish because summer, ie. heat wave, general busy-ness.   And I couldn’t quite finish it before my trip to Vancouver in mid-Sept, and because I only had a couple of chapters left, I didn’t bring it with me.  So that was another two weeks of non-reading.  Then I disliked how the book ended and that took another while to finally get to the end (more on that later).

The Face on the Cutting-Room Floor was, in film terms, very meta.  There were a lot of insider references about working in film, and editing terminology, which I appreciated. 

      I was cutting the last sequences of The Waning Moon when Robertson came in and sat down.  He wanted to ask me something but he did not know how to start his question.  He looked at my scissors and said: ‘I often wonder why you people always cut on the end of a movement instead of cutting right on the movement.’

     I answered and he said something else about cutting and editing. We talked about the montage of the Russian films, about the French avant-garde, about the photography of the early Swedish silent and the sets of the German film classics.  We talked about everything but the thing we wanted to talk about. He did not know how to shift the theme and I did not want to start the shifting.

I would’ve loved this book as a film student, as I'd cut my teeth cutting film on a flatbed and studied the films that the two editors were conversing about.

 At first, I thought the story took place in the States since all the characters spoke in an American dialect.  Even though there were obvious references about prices being in pounds, etc.  It wasn’t until I read about Scotland Yard getting involved did I realize this was actually set in London, England!

The story unfolds via the first-person POV of Cameron McCabe, who’s also the ‘author’ of the book.  McCabe is a supervising film editor at a London movie studio, and his boss wants him to cut out the part of a young, aspiring actress without any real reason.  The problem is that the actress is one of the leads in a film about a love triangle, so this would be a near impossible task, even for a talented editor.  McCabe suspects the actress had jilted the studio boss and this is his way of getting revenge.  Later that day, the actress is found dead in another editor’s cutting room, and what do y’know, the room is equipped with an automatic camera that starts filming the room as soon as the door is opened.  Of course, the reel goes missing and soon, Detective Inspector Smith of Scotland Yard arrives on the scene to investigate the murder.  There is immediate tension between Smith and McCabe.  It doesn’t help that McCabe is a smart-ass with the inspector and our ‘hero’ immediately starts his own investigation on what happened and searches for the missing film reel. The reader eventually learns that McCabe isn’t what he seems, and surprise surprise, he’s far from a reliable narrator.  

The book was very clever, unusual, and even ahead of its time, making use of the ‘false document’ technique and the gimmick of narrator as ‘author’, which turns out to be a confession. 

Unfortunately, the writing wasn’t always great and it really got bogged down by its self-referentialism, especially in the afterword by a side character named Mueller with two dots.  Mueller was a key witness Smith used to prosecute McCabe, and he goes into agonizing detail analyzing the psyche and motivations of McCabe based on his bizarre confession.  It gets all convoluted with what happened to Smith because he had used very unorthodox schemes of getting McCabe arrested, and McCabe successfully defended himself in the drawn-out courtroom section, with Smith leaving his position and eventually taking justice into his own hands.   

The book made quite a splash in 1937 and was praised for its ingenuity, but then languished in obscurity for a couple of decades before it was rediscovered in the 1970’s.  

The most interesting section of the book was actually at the end which featured an interview with the real author, Ernest Borneman - he was the most fascinating thing in the book!  A precocious child and youth, Borneman wrote The Face on the Cutting-Room Floor when he was 19 years old, a few years after arriving in England as a Jewish Socialist refugee fleeing Nazi Germany.  Borneman had managed to deceive German authorities by posing as a Hitler Youth.   

Part of the reason he wrote The Face on the Cutting-Room Floor was to improve his English.  So his youth and ESL helped explain the uneven quality of writing, at least.  Borneman then became a jazz critic and musicologist, eventually collaborating with Norman McLaren, which led him to work with John Grierson when he was head of the NFB, and later with Orson Welles.  Then after a career in filmmaking, he became a sexologist, and a rather controversial one at that.  Apparently, Borneman was as sexual as he was intellectual! 

Here is one paragraph summarizing his career as a sexologist.  Reading about Borneman was definitely more interesting than reading his own fiction!

By now Borneman haunted the Frankfurt railway station at night to jot down slang, the cruder the better, and began to write down children’s sex rhymes, which led in 1968 to his Lexikon der Liebe (Dictionary of Love) in two volumes, launching his last and most controversial career as a sexologist. Borneman began to publish regularly, including two more dictionaries, which culminated in the encyclopedia Sex im Volksmund, with more than a thousand synonyms for penis. Nicknamed “Pornoman Borneman” he swiftly established himself as a sex-expert with columns, radio shows, and countless TV appearances. He was living happily in rural Austria in an old farmhouse with his 10,000 books, and had been married to Eva for fifty years, but was willing to admit he was also a threesome connoisseur who had slept with two or three hundred women. 

Still, I’m glad I read this unusual book, which was considered one of the best crime novels set in the movie industry.  The paperback edition I have isn’t great – as it’s from the 80’s.  I’d have preferred the more tasteful Picador or Green Penguin editions, or even the more lurid versions shown at the bottom.  Used book finders can’t always be choosers!