Defence Against the Dark Arts XXXII: Anthony Horowitz’s Diamond Brothers at Christmas

A few books with a Christmas theme have inspired posts in the past. 

I wanted to produce something similar for this year; I remembered that the seventh book in Anthony Horowitz’s Diamond Brothers series is called The Greek Who Stole Christmas so I decided to renew my acquaintance with these very amusing little stories. 

I found enough suitable material for another seasonal article.

Christmas for the Diamond Brothers 
Christmas is not a good time of year for Nick the clever boy detective and his big – and dim - brother Herbert, who prefers to be known as Tim, as they are always very short of money and are often in danger from their enemies.

The action in The Falcon's Malteser, which is the first book in the series, takes place during the holiday season. These words from Nick Diamond set the tone:

“...the grey December sky. The Christmas decorations had gone up in Regent Street – it seemed that they’d been up since July – and the stores were wrapped in tinsel and holly. Somewhere, a Salvation Army band was playing “Away in a Manger.” I felt a funeral march would have been more appropriate.“

Things get worse: Tim and Nick are arrested by the police and held in a freezing cold interrogation room. They are released, only to be rearrested and held overnight in a cell in the police station. 

The police decide to let Nick go; he rises to the occasion with a typical witty remark:

“You can go, laddy,” Snape said. “It’s only big brother we want.”

“How long are you going to keep him for?” I asked. “It’s only five days to Christmas.”

“So?”

“He hasn’t had time to buy my present yet.” 

Defence Against the Dark Arts Part XXX: Richard Barham's Ingoldsby Legends

My first encounter with Richard Barham's Ingoldsby Legends was in the pages of Rider Haggard's exciting adventure story King Solomon's Mines. 

The hero Allan Quatermain says that while he is not a literary man, he is very devoted to the Old Testament and the Ingoldsby Legends. He reads these two books for the comfort of the familiar and the wisdom that they contain. 

He refers to and quotes from the Legends several times, and in the sequel Allan Quatermain says that he often reads them when awake at night.

Intrigued by these references and hoping to find a new source of good reading material, I decided to get the book so that I could experience its attractions for myself. I found a very old copy in a second-hand bookshop and opened it eagerly when I got home. 

There was much more material in the book than I was expecting, and I wasn't disappointed in the stories either. I found many of the Legends very amusing and enjoyable to read. I could now understand why this book always accompanied Allan Quatermain in his wanderings.

An overvew of the Ingoldsby Legends
The Ingoldsby Legends, or Mirth and Marvels, to give the book its full and very appropriate title, is a collection of around 65 miscellaneous stories and poems, many with a supernatural element. 

The Legends are attributed to 'Thomas Ingoldsby of Tappington Manor', but they were actually written by the Reverend Richard Harris Barham. 

Much of the material in the Legends is based on traditional Kentish myths, legends and folklore. 

There are many references to ghosts, witches and demons, and Old Nick i.e. the devil makes many appearances. However, as the Legends are intended to entertain the readers they are just as funny as they are frightening. 

Defence Against the Dark Arts Part XXIII: Anthony Horowitz’s Diamond Brothers stories

I discovered Anthony Horowitz’s Diamond Brothers around 14 years ago. I read the seven books that were available at the time and even reviewed some of them on Amazon. I soon forgot all about them as I was concentrating on setting up this blog. 

I recently remembered these entertaining little stories. I decided to go through them all again - this time around in publication sequence. I found enough commentary-inspiring material for an article; I also detected a possible connection with another series of books, a series that has been featured in several articles.

The first of Jonathan Stroud's books about the Lockwood & Co. psychical detection agency had yet to be published when I first encountered Anthony Horowitz’s books about the Diamond Brothers' private detective agency. I have since read the Lockwood books several times. I noticed a few small similarities in the two series recently while re-reading the Diamond books; I now suspect that Jonathan Stroud read and was slightly influenced by them.

Something about the Diamond Brothers series
The Diamond Brothers stories are light and amusing; they are a parody of classic detective fiction. They are cleverly constructed and contain subtle clues. They are full of wisecracks and witticisms; the plots are preposterous and the villains are caricatures. 

The main characters are Tim Diamond and his brother Nick, who is 13 years old in the first book and is the main narrator. Tim is exceptionally dim; Nick is very bright. After being thrown out of the police, Tim sets up as a private detective. The brothers have some intriguing cases and mysteries to solve; they have many adventures and are often in great danger. They always win through in the end.

Although they are marketed as children's books, the Diamond Brothers stories have a much wider appeal. The main attractions for me are some elements that they have in common with Leslie Charteris's Saint books - the humour and the many descriptions of London features that I know well for example. I also like the background information and small details that add authenticity to the stories and balance their incredible, outrageous, unrealistic and over-the-top elements.

There are now eight Diamond Brothers books. The stories vary in length, but each one can be read in one sitting; it would even be possible to read the lot in one day. Such short stories are not very suitable for being described in detail or extensively quoted, so I will give just a few examples of the attractions and Lockwood similarities.

Humour in the Diamond Brothers books
There is a scene in South by Southeast in which Nick Diamond in desperation bids one million pounds for a painting at Sotheby's auction house. The auctioneer exclaims: "You're just a boy!", and Nick replies: "I know, but I get a lot of pocket money."

Defence Against the Dark Arts Part XVI: J. B. Priestley's Low Notes on a High Level

The novelist J. B. Priestley has been mentioned both as a reader of and contributor to the Everyman Library and as the author of Angel Pavement, the likely inspiration for Stella Gibbons's novel My American. 

One of his minor works is a little book called Low Notes on a High Level, which was first published in 1954. 

Priestley called Low Notes a 'frolic'. It is very light; it is amusing and original. 

The plot is preposterous; it features some huge, bizarre, imaginary musical instruments that can play very low bass notes. Also included are some colourful characters, a fictional Scandinavian country, classical music on the radio and a pirate broadcasting station run by a freedom-loving rebel. 

Unlike some of the other featured books, Low Notes does not contain much quotable material. The story needs to be read as a whole: most extracts would not do justice to the book as they wouldn't mean very much or seem very amusing without the surrounding context.

Satire in Low Notes on a High Level
Priestley was a strong critic of many aspects of contemporary society. In Low Notes he took the opportunity to satirise practices of the day that he disapproved of and people he had a low opinion of. 

Much of Priestley's criticism of certain organisations and the people associated with them was inspired by his experience of working for the BBC as a radio presenter during the Second World War.

He disliked politicians, pretentiousness and bureaucracy; he rather despised conformists, people who are types rather than individuals and herd members who don't think for themselves - like these two committed consumers for example:

“If the Coronation had lasted for twenty-two hours on TV, they would never have taken their eyes off the screen, even at the risk of going blind and dotty. Always they did as they were told, Enid asking for Shifto the magic washing powder, Bernard demanding Filter-Dung the new cigarette.”

Artemis Fowl and the demon cult leader: Part II

The other demon of interest in Eoin Colfer's Lost Colony is called Leon Abbot. He is one of the worst of the demons and the secret enemy of our cute little friend Number One. He is the cult leader type; many of the things he says and does are familiar from personal experience.

Leon Abbott the cult leader
Leon Abbot is the demon pride leader; he makes all the big decisions and has ways of bringing Council members round to his way of thinking.

He is the demons' self-proclaimed saviour and their hero. 

Leon Abbot is a liar and a manipulator. The truth means nothing to him.

Number One sees through him, but the other imps lap up his self-glorifying legends. Number One sees him as a loudmouth braggart, but the other imps and demons worship him, giving him the attention, adulation and total trust and obedience that he demands. 

He may have scales, horns and a tail, but Leon Abbot is  a classic, textbook case. Many of the things he says and does can be found in the list in the cult overview: for example, he has a superiority complex, sometimes behaves like an attack dog and presents himself as the sole supplier.

He is just the type to lead his followers to disaster.

The Demonic Bible
Leon Abbot brought a book back from the old world, a book that would save them all according to Abbot.

The book is called Lady Heatherington Smythe's Hedgerow. The demons treat it as their bible and use it not only as the source of all their knowledge about humans but also as a source of names:

“They didn't have real names, not until after they warped. Then they would be given a name from the sacred text.”

This explains the unusual names that demons have, names such as Leon Abbot for example. However, surely the book doesn’t contain nearly enough names to go round!

Artemis Fowl and the demon cult leader: Part I

I read the first three of Eoin Colfer’s Artemis Fowl fantasy novels when they were first published. I remembered them recently when compiling a list of light and amusing reading that would help to counteract the effects of negative and disturbing material.

I needed a break from reading about the writer Jean Rhys, which is even more depressing than reading about Stella Benson and Antonia White! I decided to renew my acquaintance with Artemis the young Irish prodigy and his fairy friends.

I found that there are now eight Artemis Fowl books. I am reading my way through them all. I didn’t expect to find anything that would inspire any articles, and I was right - until I reached Artemis Fowl and the Lost Colony (2006), the fifth book in the series.

The Lost Colony contains some material that immediately reminded me of what I have read and written about cult leaders and people who feel different on the inside from everyone around them.

The Artemis Fowl books contain many supernatural entities, including elves, dwarves, trolls and goblins; The Lost Colony features demons.  One of them reminds me of certain writers who felt different right from the start and went on to develop a special gift, and another one behaves exactly like a cult leader. 

Something about Eoin Colfer’s demons
Eoin Colfer’s demons begin life as imps. They go through a process called ‘warping’, which turns them into demons. It sounds similar to the way in which a caterpillar builds a cocoon then emerges as a butterfly.

A very few imps never warp into maturity. While ordinary full-grown demons have no magic of their own, these special imps become warlocks who can perform magic.

Most of the demons are collective-minded, bloodthirsty and aggressive with few redeeming characteristics, but there is one exception.

This special, different demon is called Number One.

Defence Against the Dark Arts Part X: Plus X and Bad Medicine

There are two very amusing short stories that I feel impelled to re-read from time to time. One is Plus X by Eric Frank Russell, the other is Bad Medicine by Robert Sheckley.

Plus X was written by an Englishman, Bad Medicine by an American. Both stories were first published in 1956, in the classic pulp science fiction magazines Astounding Science Fiction and Galaxy respectively.

Plus X is about a human prisoner of war on an alien planet; Bad Medicine is about a homicidal maniac in New York. Both men use psychological methods to escape their condition. 

I don’t want to be a spoiler, so will say only a little more about the stories.

Plus X by Eric Frank Russell
John Leeming is the hero of this story. He is a prisoner of war, captured by a reptilian race. He escapes by fooling the enemy, persuading the reptilians that earthmen and their alien allies have invisible, and dangerous, companions.

For me, one of the best scenes is when one of the enemy aliens interrogates another earthman prisoner - who knows nothing about Leeming’s lies - about these companions to get some independent confirmation. This man has no idea what his captor is talking about, but manages to give very good answers that confirm the story. 

He says, “Where did you get this information?”, and when asked whether the invisible companions might manage to take over some of the reptilians, says with great menace, “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

It is all very amusing and very clever.

Being positive can occasionally backfire

I have learned from experience that our inner state often determines our experiences, so we can definitely change our lives for the better on the outside by first changing ourselves for the better on the inside.

I have given examples of how we can be our own worst enemies; I have also stated that distress signals can attract predators.

We benefit from being calm and positive; good feelings often boost our immune systems and act as a protection - except when it all backfires, as happened to me recently although in a very small way.

I went to collect something that I had ordered and paid for online. I had visited this store many times in the past, and always found the service fast and good, even at Christmas.

On this occasion, I stood at the collection desk and waited and waited for someone to come. I got the impression that I was being overlooked deliberately.  I could see that the place was busy. Many people were waiting to order and pay at the other desks; I guessed that taking more money takes priority over dealing with people who have already paid.

I reminded myself that it was warm inside and that I was not in a hurry. I knew it was important not to sound angry or self-pitying, so when someone eventually came to help, instead of saying anything about being ignored I just said calmly and pleasantly that I had been wondering whether I had gone invisible as no one had come for a long time.

The assistant, a young man, immediately said, “That’s because you look so contented”!

I was stunned, but it made sense. They probably learn to recognise the sort of people who will get angry and make scenes or go online and post complaints and bad reviews.

I have learned to save it for the big one and not get upset by minor inconveniences; I was pleased to get such positive feedback for my attempts to improve my inner state.

Defence Against the Dark Arts Part VII: Charlotte Brontë’s Martin Yorke

Of all the characters in all the Brontë sisters’ novels, Martin Yorke, who appears in Charlotte Brontë’s socio-historical novel Shirley, is my favourite.

Shirley (1849) is set in rural Yorkshire in 1811/12 against a background of industrial unrest, of violent opposition to the introduction of machinery in the local textile industry. 

Charlotte Brontë intended Shirley to be a counterpoint to her first novel, Jane Eyre, which was considered to be melodramatic and unrealistic. Shirley was to be political, significant, true to life and, in her own words, “real, cool and solid, as unromantic as a Monday morning.” 

Similarly, Martin Yorke is far from being a dominant, dangerous, glamorous, smouldering, rugged romantic hero like the demonic duo of Heathcliff and Mr Rochester. Martin is nobody’s fantasy ideal man: he is a funny, greedy, clever, mischievous schoolboy who in my opinion is worth more than both those bad Byronic boyos put together. 

Martin Yorke is only a minor character in Shirley, but the scenes I most enjoy in the book are the ones that he appears in. His antics and sayings remind me not only of Rudyard Kipling’s Stalky, but also of people I have known in real life. Charlotte Brontë modelled him on the brother of a close friend of hers.

Defence Against the Dark Arts Part VI: Two amusing anecdotes

I have many painful memories of incidents in shops and on buses. I have one or two positive memories to offset the bad ones, memories that give good feelings whenever I return to them.

The honest electronic equipment salesman
Some years ago, I was very dejected after realising that I had been cheated by a laptop repair company. They lied to me when they told me that they had returned my laptop to the manufacturer: the latter said they had never seen it. I was without my laptop for weeks, and I paid a lot of money for repairs that did not last very long. 

I found another repair shop nearby; they told me that they got a lot of business from people like me, people who had been given bad service by the other place. 

I was waiting in this shop when some people came in and asked if they sold video cameras. 

One of the men behind the counter said, “We only have one model, and I wouldn’t buy it if I were you: it’s rubbish!” 

When I told him that I admired his honesty he said, “It’s always best to be honest. The only person I ever lie to is my wife:  I would never get any peace if I didn’t.” 

I thought that this was very amusing. It lifted my mood and things did not seem quite so black.  

I was much more selective when choosing the second repair company than I was with the first one, which by coincidence went bankrupt not long afterwards.