incandescens: (Default)
[personal profile] incandescens
A couple of visits to the dentist today, and feeling rather shattered now. (Dental restoration: an old filling was giving/had given way, and it was the dentist's opinion that it would be better to just do a replacement on the relevant chunk of tooth than to try to refill it.) Still, at least I should be able to relax about that side of my mouth in the near future...

Work continues extremely busy. But with almost everyone else off on the team awayday today, it was at least nice and quiet in the office.

Have been reading the Tales of Judge Dee by Zhu Xiao Di that [personal profile] flemmings sent me, for which many thanks. It was pleasant to get some new Dee, but I have to say that the author's English was not as good as that of van Gulik, even if his stories may have been more "authentic". One aspect I did like was Sergeant Hoong rebuking the Judge on one occasion with reference to what his father would have thought - an aspect of the "old family retainer" which I don't recall coming up so much in the van Gulik versions.

Had the urge to go and reread some of the Gervase Fen short stories by Edmund Crispin after that, and even if the stories are (mostly) more puzzle than character, the actual writing is extremely fluid and well done. I'm reminded of why I end up rereading the Fen books every now and again.


He explained at great length. He explained with a sense of righteous indignation and frustration of spirit. - The Moving Toyshop, Edmund Crispin

If you took the Rector from the top downwards, the first thing you saw was iron-grey hair thatching a high, noble forehead. Below this point, however, matters deteriorated abruptly. No doubt about it, the Rector's actual face was simian - so that the overall effect was as if Jekyll had got stuck half-way in the course of switching himself to Hyde. The clothes were a crumpled, laurel-spattered clerical black, with dog-collar and with outsize cracked black shoes. Despite bow legs, the height was six foot three, and the frame was formidable. 'I'm not,' the Rector had once complacently remarked, 'the type of thing you want to meet unexpectedly on a dark night.'
-- The Glimpses of the Moon, Edmund Crispin
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