3. A Kestrel for a Knave

By Barry Hines         

A Kestrel for a Knave was very well-written and I liked it very much, though it took me months to finish it due to its grim realism.  This is not feel-good escapist fiction, like Swallows & Amazons. But I understand now how perfect this novel was for Ken Loach (known for his sympathetic portrayals of Britain’s working class) to adapt into a “kitchen sink” coming-of-age drama about a boy growing up in a northern English mining town.

 

I’ve been curious about Loach’s Kes (1969) for a while now because I’ve always loved the idea of a kid training a falcon-like bird of prey. There’s a literary sub-genre about people who develop a close kinship with their pet raptor, the most famous probably being TS White’s memoir, The Goshawk (1951).  Other examples are H is for Hawk (a 2014 memoir by Helen MacDonald), YA fiction like Summer of the Falcon by Jean Craighead George and Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Hawk Mistress!

 

I’d only heard of Barry Hines through Olman, as The Gamekeeper sounded intriguing.  When I made the connection that Barry Hines also wrote A Kestrel for a Knave, I knew I had to read the book before setting eyes on Kes, the film. I even ordered it new via Indigo Books.

  

Even though I’m greatly intrigued by the raptor-relationship subgenre, I haven’t explored it to any extent. My interest may have originated back in Grade 6 when I was assigned to read Jean Craighead George’s My Side of the Mountain, one of my fave books in grade school. 12-year-old Sam Gribley runs away from NYC to the Catskill Mountains to live off the land. He finds an abandoned young peregrine falcon who becomes his closest companion. That book made me obsessed with learning wilderness survival skills and running away myself. 

 

A Kestrel for a Knave was very different from My Side of the Mountain. It’s not an adventure story, but it is a kind of survival story.  I also had no desire to be in Billy's shoes. The novel begins with him being bullied by his older brother in their shared bedroom. It’s quickly established they live in cramped quarters with their single mother and Jud works at the mine.  Billy's also bullied at school, and is behind academically. In short, Billy’s a poor, neglected runt of a kid. The only thing that gives Billy any real happiness is his discovery of a young kestrel, whom he quickly dubs Kes. Training Kes gives Billy purpose, as well as something to love fiercely.  He quickly figures out on his own how to acquire falconry books and teaches himself how to train and care for his kestrel, which is pretty impressive for a boy who's deemed a low performer at school. Billy’s passion even helps him to be more likeable with his classmates, after he's called upon by his teacher to explain falconry to the class.

 

However, this spell of happiness is short-lived. Even his well-meaning teacher has no power to help Billy get out of the inevitability of becoming a miner when he grows up, just like his older brother and most of the men in his town. Given Billy’s situation, seeing how the whole system is stacked against him, you know it’s going to end sadly. It was quite a depressing read and you can't help but feel bad for Billy.  This was the main reason why I couldn’t read this book straight through, only being able to absorb portions of it at a time.

 

Barry Hines wrote an afterword for the 1999 edition that was very illuminating, as it touched on his collaboration with Ken Loach for Kes. I would definitely read more books by Hines, particularly The Gamekeeper.  When I subscribed to the Criterion Channel, I was pleased to see that Kes was there when it first launched. Months later, when I finally finished the book and ready to watch Kes, it had already left the roster. 

Edit: I finally watched Kes in late 2022 when it came back on CC!  It was an extremely faithful adaption of the source material with perhaps a slightly more upbeat ending, if that's even possible. You can even read my Letterboxd review!

And wouldn't you know, the man who played young Billy Casper, also became a falconer!

2. Bearskin

By James A. McLaughlin     

Olman requested this as a Xmas present during our holiday visit with family, and his parents obliged.  He proceeded to read it immediately, said it was great read, and then lent it to me.  However, I didn’t read Bearskin until we returned home after the new year.  

Bearskin is a crime thriller with nature and dreamscape elements mixed in.  It’s about a regular guy with a troubled past who becomes caretaker of an Appalachian nature preserve in Virginia.  Before that, Rice Moore had done time in a Mexican prison for smuggling drugs for a cartel.  After being released, he takes on a new identity as Rick Morton.  Living in a remote private preserve would provide sanctuary and solitude until he figures out what to do with his life.  His peace is short-lived when he comes across a desecrated bear carcass and evidence of trespassing poachers.  His investigation, of course, sets off a gradual chain of events that eventually culminates in a semi-violent stand off.

After the pretty terrible writing in The Shining Girls, McLaughlin's work was like a breath of fresh air.  A decent novel is much more appreciated after experiencing a poorly written one.   Good fiction writing draws you into the narrative and the lives of the characters, while at the time same time, allowing you to enjoy the style and mood.   Bad writing makes you pause and internally roll your eyes at hackneyed dialogue or awkward phrasings, breaking whatever the flow the author is attempting to achieve.

By no means is Bearskin a work of art.  It’s a well-written thriller with a great premise that still relies on common genre tropes.  This review captures the typical limitations and flaws that beset genre novels written by white, male authors.  However, there are attempts to balance things out: Rick's boss is a woman, his love interest is almost three-dimensional and much is made about Rick being an ordinary guy who makes mistakes, many mistakes.  The review does highlight the typical triple threats “drugs, foreigners, the sanctity of the universal vagina”, which I first misread as 'virginia', which is fitting since the story is set in a pristine, nature preserve in Virginia - a 'virginal' sanctuary that gets beset by criminal Mexican invaders. Cuz you know those foreigners all want to exploit and destroy nature for the sake of money.  And Rice Moore, is of course, the white savior and protector.

But this is also what good writing can do, make you overlook the shortcomings and allow you to simply immerse yourself in a good book.

 p.s. This now makes it the third crime novel in a row, so time for a change of scenery!

1. The Shining Girls

By Lauren Beukes       

A man with violent psychopathic tendencies is drawn to a House of Dimensions in Depression-era Chicago.  He becomes a serial killer who can jump back and forth in time to hunt gifted girls while eluding the authorities. 

Sounds like a cool concept, which makes it such a tragedy that Beukes stinks as a writer.  I’m writing more than I should in expressing how disappointed I was in wasting my time with such mediocrity.  

First, the heroine, Kirby.  Unlikable and annoying. But she's young and cute, thus an object of attraction to the much older, jaded former crime reporter Dan (a composite of half-drawn cliches).  The attempt at chemistry between the two was cringe-inducing, mostly due to their clunky, hokey dialogue. Even the killer was not very well-drawn nor charismatic, and many chapters were devoted to his POV.  

So the plot.  The only thing the mysterious House demanded from the killer was an occasional tribute:  seek out and murder a young woman who had “the shine” – not the telepathic ability from the Stephen King novel, but a shining talent.  The House demanded that these bright stars  be snuffed out.  

Of course, Beukes never delved into the reason, which would be fine if this was a better written story.  In this case, it seemed more like a convenient omission.  In return, the House provided sanctuary for the killer and through its door, the ability to step into any year in the 20^th century (with certain limitations that I now forgot).

Despite the amount of research devoted to Depression-era Chicago, Beukes was not able to weave it seamlessly into her narrative.  I think the fact she’s from South Africa showed how she was an outsider looking in.  She was also incapabe of inhabiting her characters completely nor could she write invisibly.  As a result, I wasn't able to lose myself in the narrative like I could with Lisa Lutz’s The Passenger, for instance.  

Structurally, the novel jumped around in time and switched between the POVs of all the characters, including the victims.  It took SO long for the plot to move along, I ended up skimming over a lot of unnecessary exposition, which was supposed to contribute to mood, but failed in its attempt.  

Another frustrating factor was Dan being such a middle-aged fart.  He spent most of the bloody time not believing any of the clues Kirby had discovered until they broke into the House and saw all the supernatural shit - at the very end of the novel!  

Beukes had hit upon a cool sub-genre of supernatural crime thrillers, and because of her intriguing premises, I gave this a second go.  My first book of hers was Broken Monsters (2015) - it was also disappointing, but not as much as this one.   I found Broken Monsters to be the better book than The Shining Girls, her previous effort.  

At least I can now absolutely confirm that I do not like Beukes’ writing, and thus, this will be my last book of hers. Amen.

12. Conviction

By Denise Mina                      

A mystery/crime novel based in Scotland, borrowed from Caroline.  Read in a rush while visiting in Berkeley, but I managed to finish it! 

Here's a summary that's been cobbled together from multiple sources:

The story begins one November morning with Anna getting the kids ready for school, making breakfast, listening to yet another true crime podcast.  Then her best friend Estelle arrives at the door.  Then Anna's husband, a successful lawyer, announces that he and Estelle are lovers and he's leaving her with their two daughters!

Anna considers killing herself, but the podcast she was listening to before her comfortable life got rudely shattered, Death and the Dana, distracts her from suicidal thoughts.  It's involves a wealthy businessman named Leon Parker, whose luxury yacht was blown up in the Mediterranean while he and his children were on board. The ship's cook was convicted of the crime, but many believe the woman was innocent.

But Anna knew Leon Parker... in her previous life as Sophie Bukaran.  We soon learn she had been hiding in Glasgow as Anna McDonald, married to the very husband who had just left her for her best friend, Estelle.  Anna feels that something is not quite right and she thinks she might know what really happened to Leon Parker.  When Estelle's feckless husband, Fin, also appears at Anna's door, he gets roped into the mystery and the unlikely duo eventually create a companion podcast detailing their explorations. 

But in the process Anna and Fin are photographed and the pictures posted online, so Anna's identity becomes entwined with the life she left behind as Sophie Bukaran. Years earlier Sophie was raped by members of a beloved football team, and her accusations threatened the team's reputation and value. When the only corroborator of her testimony was silenced, Sophie was discredited and subjected to public vilification, and Sophie disappeared. But a new witness has come forward and could confirm Sophie's accusations, and her reappearance again threatens a financial empire. As Fin's podcast becomes wildly popular and he and Anna begin to unravel the mystery of Leon Parker's death, the assassins seeking Sophie close in.

Even though the plot was highly unrealistic (that soap opera beginning!) and felt somewhat cobbled together (like this review), it was an easy and entertaining read.  At times, I felt like I could be spending my time with a better book (my MIL practically pushed Conviction on me as she had just finished it and wanted to know what I thought of it.  I think she even said I could have it, which was why I rush-read this as I didn't want to pack a hardcover to bring back home!), but there are much worse books to waste your time on.  I can't remember, but I think I told her I enjoyed it, which was mostly true.