A Short War History

A Damn Close-Run Thing: A Brief History of the Falklands Conflict
by Russell Phillips

Smashwords 2011

Available here

This is a concise, lucidly written overview of the 1982 Falkland’s War. The impersonal tone is an interesting contrast to the action being described, accentuating the horrible reality of combat. I found the placenames – Goose Green, Port Stanley and Tumbledown among others – still have a disturbing resonance today.

The author concentrates on the military action, but he outlines the pure politics that engendered the war. Galtieri was hoping to strengthen the position of his government at home with a military victory (at the time there was no economic advantage in possessing the islands). Politics also provides the ironic conclusion – the war only served to strengthen the position of Margaret Thatcher and her Government.

Without Thatcher’s determination to retake the islands – a determination that was not supported by some members of the establishment and military – a war would never probably have been waged at all, and so it is odd that Mr Phillips does not refer to Mrs Thatcher until after the conflict is well underway.

The title is apt. Mr Phillips does a good job of reminding us how hard-fought this war was. I was surprised, shocked even, by how often the chilling phrase "bayonet charge" appeared.

A first for this blog – I didn’t spot a single typo. The prose is excellent. On the other hand, a bibliography and citation of sources is not supplied – a pity for those who’d like to read more, perhaps.

Readers can get a 25% discount of A Damn Close-Run Thing at Smashwords with this coupon code: GK56V. Offer expires January 2012

End of the World (Again)

In another book that longer exists (see Being Old Ain’t So Bad, passim), David Monroe’s A History of the World has a strangely dispassionate tone. In essence, it’s a series of free-association recollections of life in nineteen sixties America. His memories often accrete around objects – the toasters banks gave away, women’s wigs (big in the sixties), the "U" joints, mufflers and greased wheel bearings men used when, like almost all men back then, were fixing their cars.

Mr Monroe often contrast the past and the present and finds the present wanting. It is less homely, less friendly. Being of an age, he has garnered much worthwhile knowledge about how to live a decent life and he freely gives much sound advice – don’t drink, take drugs – but do exercise and look after your health, etc etc. In short, the sort of excellent advice people can only appreciate after they’ve not listened to it and suffered the consequences.

However, he is at his best when talking about the material world – the mechanisms and devices that are so familiar when in contemporary use, but which develop an eerie resonance when, after many years we see them again – probably in junk shops and such like – lying around in dust – discarded, disused and yet – so familiar, like solidified bits of memory, no longer quite a part of us. No longer fully alive.

This is a great paragraph about just such an item, although it didn’t actually didn't go so gently into that good night.

Timex made very good watches. They were inexpensive, durable and they kept good time. I was given one on my thirteenth birthday and I wore it for seven years. I put that watch through hell. It was beaten and banged daily, run through the washing machine a dozen times and I even smacked it one time with a hammer by accident. Towards the end of its life I held the plastic crystal in place with Scotch Tape. One day the band broke and it fell off my wrist. When it hit the floor it exploded into pieces, like some ultimate last gasp. It was a very good watch and a dependable friend. But nothing in life lasts forever, not your youth, or friends or loved ones or watches. There’s a lesson in that, brought to you by the makers of Timex. (P. 6 -7)

Pussy Furore

The Cat Letters
by Lexis De Rothschild
(Illustrated)

Published 2011

Purchasable here on Amazon

You may recognise this story. Two lovers break up. Driven by heartache, one escapes to a different, more challenging environment and goes through various adventures. Later, the other lover calls, but our hero/heroine has found new strength and the other lover has to come round. The relationship begins again, only it’s better.

It’s a classic story line. Even if you haven’t seen or read it, there’s a fair chance you’ve lived it – or one of its numerous variations.

The strength of this version lies in the skillful sketches that illustrate the inexhaustible strangeness of everyday life and people. Life is strange everywhere in the world, of course, but we tend to see this fact more clearly when we go to unfamiliar places. In St Thomas, in the Caribbean, the narrator observes the neighbours screaming at each other, ‘ . . . under the banana tree with centipedes crossing the driveway.’ (P 64) At home, I suppose, rows are less visually interesting than that.

The style here has a frenetic quality. It mixes journal entries (in letter form), things-to-do lists, reminiscence and anecdote, all interspersed with bits of dialogue that are written like tiny scenes taken from a play about confrontation. It’s all highly readable. The narrative is driven along more by emotional energy than the logic of events.

I have to say, I like stories where the main character goes off the rails and down a cliff and yet lands on his/her feet.

Having a cat as the recipient of the letters in an epistolary story – I dunno what the devil to think about that. But then, I’m one of a silent minority for whom cats, dogs, Jesus, Mohamed and other people’s kids are subjects of stolid indifference, no matter how much the rest of the human race gushes on about them.

Still, very enjoyable.