well, some more reading, then. it pains me to do this, look you see. the title really pretty much (more or less) says it all about the two novels i have read, but in general i dislike speaking ill of novels. anyone who has gotten so far as to have a novel published has done considerably better than i ever have, if that is a measure of success. which i think it is. so, mostly, i feel quite bad speaking poorly of such an achievement. yet, or also but, if a reading experience turns out to be not as good as one had hoped, there is little (no) sense pretending otherwise.
as usual at such a time of writing this kind of post, i have read not just one, but also not as many as three, four or six novels, but two further since the last time. in this instance, they were books i carefully selected on the basis of being "not bothered" about them, as i took them to read on my travels to london (and back). for some reason i have this inexplicable fear of taking a book that i actually want to read on a journey, in case i really get into it and somehow manage to misplace or lose the book. so, with me i take something that might be all right to read, but shall cause me no sorrow if it were to be misplaced.
to bring this sort of book "review" (or comment) style post back to some sense of normality, then, a look at the two what i read, followed by a brief, spoiler free overview of each.
i was drawn to The White Road by the fact that it was cheap, appeared to be presented in an easy on the eye font, and looked vaguely interesting. this actually wasn't too bad, in truth, but it takes its time to labour to a rather specific point whilst ignoring a much bigger observation it seems to make by accident and as an aside. yes, Nick Carter The Cobra Kill got bought because it looked like preposterous yet exciting rubbish. to this end, an instance of being able to judge a book by its cover.
right, then, be warned. i shall take my usual care in not doing so too much, but from here on out please consider that a *** SPOILER WARNING *** of many (two) a splendid colour is decidedly here and in place.
provenance of my copy? well, as you can kind of see, it was all of £1 from The Works shop. yes, as per the last post, The Works is quite a nice place to pick up novels of ok quality for £1 a go.
the plot of The White Road? well, it starts with a young adventurous type of lad called Simon goes off potholing in a prohibited area with a drunken, mentally unstable ex soldier. just why would he do such? as it turns out, three lads did exactly that a little while ago, and got killed doing it. their bodies were never recovered, so Simon (and i am resisting the urge to call him Simes, yes) is off to go and film them so him and his mate (whose name escapes me) can put the footage on their internet website thingie, and make lots of money. this really, really good idea does not, surprisingly, turn out anywhere near as simplistic or as straightforward as presumed. but, in a money way, actually the net result is a success, so they have another good idea. which is for Simon to "blag" his way onto an expedition to climb Mount Everest, just so that he can take images and footage of the many bodies left unclaimed there.
saying that this novel is the single most ridiculous one to feature a famous mountain at the heart of its plot since Trevanian's The Eiger Sanction is either an understatement or a sign that i do not read too many novels with such a weirdly specific sense to them. whilst understanding yes, this is fiction, there is rather too much asked in terms of suspension of disbelief to accept a lot of the premise. i know not much of mountaineering, but i do know that it is notoriously difficult to get permission to attempt Everest, and one simply couldn't just make up a story of other mountains climbed to get on a trip to have a go.
a frustration here is that there is such a better novel hidden in the book. the "friendship" Simon forms on the mountain, leading to an implausible and contrived conclusion, for instance, and the whole concept of how this thing that is "the internet" is yet another conduit which proves that "death sells", are just pushed to the side. hey ho.
there was one really, really good line in the novel, mind. something along the lines of the dead don't haunt us, we haunt the dead. however, i suspect it is not original to this novel, as it was given in italics as such. but still, a good line to read.
would i in any way, shape or form recommend this novel to anyone? i cannot really work out or consider circumstances in which that would happen, in truth. there just isn't enough here for it to work as a ghostly gothic "supernatural" haunting book, and it just asks far too much of a reader to accept it as a more conventional, straightforward novel. by no means was it a pain or burden to read, it just could have been considerably better and given the reader a good deal more.
some research after the fact suggests that Nick Carter books are both prolific and popular. it is so that somewhere north of 250 "novels" featuring the character exist, and they seem to fetch a decent price on that ebay thing and other, similar selling places. well, a higher price than what i paid.
on that note, the much celebrated provenance of my copy. as i was looking for something cheap and disposable to read on the train (or on my train journeys) i consulted the charity book sales which most supermarkets now seem to have set up. this, and another Nick Carter novel, were sat there, so i picked up both of them, donating the recommended 50p per book indicated next to the honesty box. i believe it was last year or the year before when i took a similar tome on holiday with me, but it was not a Nick Carter adventure. at the very least, i do not believe or think that it was.
is there any sort of plot? oddly yes. a needlessly intricate and involved one, which gives way to quite a preposterous one, but also one which ends up making some form of inevitable sense. as it turns out, this Nick Carter fellow is a "killmaster" agent for some organization called axe. he gets called in by various governments and what not around the world to kill troublesome people and ensure world peace. in this instance he is contacted and brought in to kill someone called the red cobra, who the malaysian government want dead because he is communist and is threatening the tourist trade. so off goes Nick, or Agent Carter, to kill this chap, who (the red cobra) it turns out is off on quite the mission of his own, and note the spoiler warning above, as he is seeking out a sunken japanese submarine on the off chance that there is loads and loads of gold out of a snake temple hidden in it.does it happen to be the case, you ask, that there is a reasonable amount of trashy sex and violence in this book, making it all a sort of quasi American "homage" to James Bond, whilst retaining some sensibilities of "traditional" American pulp fiction? pretty much, yes. rather handily, whoever had my copy prior to me circled all the pages on which Nick Carter "gone done a sex", as you can see in the image added.
any good? begrudgingly yes. i mean, i read this both whilst on my travels and whilst battling with all this rather painful kidney infection business, which is what the doctor assures me it is and nothing more sinister than that, yet. the "novel" runs for around 160 pages or so, so mostly skips anything like detailed character development or deep plot exploration. put it this way, it is never boring. it's all lowest common denominator stuff, and i am certainly not going to pretend that i am not interested or entertained by a spell of gratuitous sex and violence once in a while.
no doubt at some stage i shall read the other one i picked up, whatever it is called. this one was read first as the publication date suggested it came out first, although i suspect they are the kind of books which make no difference what order you read them. from there it shall be off to ebay with them for a modest but not obscene profit, and i doubt i shall buy more due to the cost they generally seem to go for. but, if i stumble on more on my travels, you never know.
well, there you have it. two novels (of sorts) which effectively did all asked, namely keep my mind occupied as i travelled, and then as i battled some weird kidney infestation. i have no regrets for reading either, but also cannot quite bring myself to recommend them to others. well, yes, sure, i can with the Nick Carter one, i suppose, if i do end up listing it for sale.
my apologies to any Nick Carter acolytes, fans, aficionados, groupies or similar who have taken any form of distress at my apparent ignorance of his realm. whereas no offence is ever intended here, such things happen, and if we are honest any appeal to the books exists in the fact that they are pure trash.
not sure this is ever the case, but hopefully something in this somewhere has been of some use or interest to someone somewhere.
be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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