Review of Old Dogs by Donna Moore (Busted Flush Press, 2010)

Old Dogs was officially published yesterday. I’ve had an advance copy, won in a competition, for a little while and pushed it to the top of the TBR pile to coincide with its release. Having thoroughly enjoyed Go to Helena Handbasket, Donna Moore’s last novel, I was looking forward to another comic crime caper. And that’s what’s delivered – a comic heist story that, to me, was rooted in the best traditions of British, 1980s alternative comedy (which is shorthand for quite a few bums, tits, poo, etc jokes and anarchic scenes) (see my post here).

I was going to write a synopsis, but for once the blurb on the back of the book does a good job: ‘La Contessa Letitzia di Ponzo and her sister Signora Teodora Grisiola are not who they might seem. Now in their seventies, they’re actually Letty and Dora, a pair of ex-hookers turned con-artists who’ve decided to steal a pair of gold, jewel-encrusted Tibetan shih tzu dog statuettes from a Glasgow museum. Unfortunately, it seems everyone wants to get their hands on the expensive pooches. There’s the dodgy chauffeur, a pair of delinquents who work in a crematorium, an out-of-work insomniac bent on revenge, and an innocent young islander who’s obsessed with returning the dogs to Tibet. And yet the elderly con-artists might just manage to execute their plan and live the rest of their lives in the lap of luxury. That’s if they can avoid the Australian hitman with his sights on a very different future for them. . .’

I enjoyed Old Dogs and laughed out loud several times. There’s a nice blend of characters, some very well judged observations and scenes, a good intertwining of subplots, a cantering pace, and a comic moment on every page. That said, the story is a little uneven in places and, I’m not sure whether this was due to having an uncorrected proof, there seemed to be a couple of continuity lapses. These though are minor issues as overall it’s an entertaining read and provided a welcome Scottish diversion from the misery that is the Irish recession. As well as writing novels, Donna Moore also runs the blog, Big Beat from Badsville, where she posts about Scottish crime fiction and some of the craziness in her life. Well worth subscribing to.

The Comic Strip Presents ... Old Dogs?

I'm presently reading Old Dogs by Donna Moore, a comic heist story, with an ensemble cast of tarts, crooks, assassins, neds, and the occassional innocent and naive soul, all after a pair of golden shih tzu statuettes on exhibition in a Glasgow museum.

One gets the distinct impression from reading Old Dogs, that one wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of Ms Moore. She has an acerbic line of put-downs (e.g., 'He's a dodgy, rat-faced, little wanker who wouldn't know the word 'honesty' if it gave him a lap dance and bit him on the arse'), and a vengeful sense of justice that involves a bucket of dog shit, a bag of prawns, and a pair of scissors. I'm particularly fond of Dunk and Raymie, a pair of layabout neds, who spend a good chunk of the book squeezed together in a toilet cubicle, only one them keeps needing to use the toilet.

'I need a Barry White.'
'No fucking way Raymie. You'll need to hold it in.'
'I cannae, Dunk. I'm touching cloth.'

'Fuck's sake Raymie, your arse is boufin' ya manky bastit. That's no' a shite, that's a weapon of mass destruction.'
'Shall I flush it?'
'Flush it? That keech isn't going to go down the stank. They're going to find it floating here tomorrow and put it in the museum as an exhibit.'

It's One Night at the Museum, 'Comic Strip Presents ...' style. Perfect for a soul raised on 1980s, British alternative comedy.

Old Dogs and the adjusting of underwear

Donna Moore has very kindly sent me an advance, uncorrected proof of her soon to be published novel, Old Dogs (Busted Flush Press). It arrived in the post this morning and it looks great. I've only read the first paragraph so far, but I'm looking forward to reading it post haste.

Barry Sheenan looked at the diamonds sparkling around the wrinkled throat of the woman in front of him and surreptitiously adjusted his y-fronts. Wealth gave him a hard-on and these two old bags were dripping with it. It wasn't so much the wealth itself, as the idea of separating it from its owners. In this case, La Contessa Letitzia di Ponzo and her sister Signora Teodora Grisiola, according to the gold-embossed card the Contessa has pressed into hand. He held it between his thumb and index finger and transferred it easily from finger to finger and back again. It even felt luxurious and rich, passing through his fingers like silk.

I would make some crack along the lines of, 'I'm so excited to be sent this book, I've had to surreptiously adjust my y-fronts', but those kind of gags are much better left to those that can actually deliver a line. If Old Dogs follows in the footsteps of Ms Moore's last outing, Go To Helena Handbasket, it'll be full of puns, double entendres, silly gags, comic mayhem and a joy to read.

Review of Go To Helena Handbasket by Donna Moore, Point Blank (2006)

Helena Handbasket is a private investigator. Owen Banks is her first customer. Someone has sent him the severed hands of his brother, Robin Banks, and he wants his killer found. Robin has been missing for five years, ever since 30 million pounds worth of jewels were stolen from his boss, Evan Stubezzi. Handbasket, and her psychotic sidekick, Fifi Fofum, take the case aided by their computer whizz friend, Heidi Salami. Soon other bodies, start to turn-up, missing their hands, a scarlet fish inserted in a stomach wound, and a quote from the bible placed in their mouth. Told to keep her nose out of police business by Inspector Frank Lee, a loner, maverick cop, and FBI agent, Art Ifarti, Handbasket ignores all the warnings and stumbles from clue to clue, cocktail to cocktail, and one prospective man to another.

As my eyes adjusted to the gloom inside, I noticed that every head in the place had turned (some of them virtually 360 degrees) to look at me. The bar's denizens froze, and a silence descended. The snooker players stood away from the table and stared at me as their balls clicked together (it's strange how often I have that effect on men); the conversations about football, women and shootin' stuff broke off abruptly, and the small, strange-looking boy in the corner stopped playing the banjo and wiped his nose on his dungarees. The place was a Twlight Home for the terminally befuddled. The smartest thing in the place was probably the cockroach fleeing for the exit.

I’m a great fan of clever, funny books – Jasper Fforde, Tom Sharpe, Terry Pratchett, Robert Rankin, Douglas Adams, etc. Go to Helena Handbasket is both very clever and very funny, so it was no surprise I enjoyed it immensely. Donna Moore ruthlessly parodies the crime genre, sending up every cliché, stereotypical character and corny plot device to great effect through a noirish lens. As I read, I had a permanent grin plastered across my face and laughed out loud many times. The puns, gags, sarcasm, cringing similes, and comic set pieces come thick and fast. The characterization is first rate and the plot unfolds as a smart, witty puzzle. Handbasket is a great creation – a kind of private investigator version of Clouseau, who believes she’s the bees knees but is actually rather hopeless and yet despite her ineptitude she somehow stumbles towards solving the case. It’s difficult to think of a direct comparison, but the writing and style reminded me of the Spike Milligan. And like Milligan’s writing, I would love to see Go To Helena Handbasket converted to radio or television; in the hands of right people it would become a cult classic.

I'll leave the final words to Fifi Fofum, a character described as Joan Crawford on crack cocaine:

"Grab a cloud ya torpedoes or I'll squirt metal and fill ya so full of holes yous could double up as a tea bag. I've got plenty of swift so don't be bunnies and sit on your keisters and hold your yaps. One crack out of any of you and I'll pat you with a spade."

Pre-order splurge

I've had an interesting journey trying to get The Rule Book into Irish bookshops; I've learnt a lot about the book publishing industry in the process. I won't bore you with the details but it seems that the impasse has been cleared (by me taking a cut in royalties so that the publisher and distributor both got what they wanted). I got two reports yesterday of sightings, one in the Dublin Airport, the other in the window of Hodges Figgis, the largest bookshop in Dublin. Hopefully the blumming thing will now find its way into reader's hands ...

Anyway, feeling chipper with myself I decided to splurge and pre-order some books. I very rarely do this, but there are a couple of authors and series I'm prepared put my hand in pocket for. So I've ordered the following, which when they are delivered will zip to the top of a to read pile that's already rickety.


Are there any authors or series that you feel compelled to buy the minute they're published (and forget the price)?







I can't wait to get stuck into these. If they all turn up on the same day I won't know where to start. I also know a couple of people who'll be pestering me for first dibs once I've finished. In fact I imagine they might get snaffled the moment I turn my back.

I also decided to buy two others. Old Flames is the second book in the Troy series, the first of which I reviewed yesterday. If Donna Moore's blog is anything to go by then Go To Helena Handbasket should be a blast. Expect reviews this side of Christmas! I know I'm not going to be able to stop myself, but I really don't need to buy any more books before then.













Flip-it - I've just read the order email from Amazon. Peter Temple is published 3rd Sept, Philip Kerr 10th Sept, and Terry Pratchett 1st Oct. I just followed the default settings which groups the delivery into as few as parcels as possible so the expected delivery date is 7th-13th Oct! I need to to keep a better eye on that next time. Grrrr.