À Middenshot, quand le vent cesse enfin de hurler, c'est le tumulte intérieur qui prend le relai. Depuis son accident, quelque chose s'est brisé en Mr. Jarrow. Sa femme aimante et bien vivante, il s'est convaincu qu'elle était morte, alors il ne s'adresse à elle que lors de séances de spiritisme. Sa fille, en passe de devenir vieille fille, supporte toutes ses manies en se berçant d'illusions sur les intentions de son voisin : Mr. Holme. Et ce monde déjà bancal est menacé : un tueur fou rode à Middenshot. Pour lui échapper, il faudra aux personnages s'aventurer au-delà du bien et du mal.
Roman dément, Le temps qu'il fait à Middenshot est une comédie noire terrifiante. Enveloppé par le vent, le brouillard et la neige, le lecteur pétrifié et amusé se délecte d'un récit tout en tension posant une redoutable question : quel est notre rapport à la violence?
Edgar Mittelholzer is considered the first West Indian novelist, i.e. even though there were writers who wrote about Caribbean themes before him, he was the first to make a successful professional life out of it. Born in Guyana (then British Guiana) of Afro-European heritage, he began writing in 1929 and self-published his first book, Creole Chips, in 1937.
Mittelholzer left Guyana for Trinidad in 1941, eventually migrating to England in 1948, living the rest of his life there except for three years in Barbados, and a shorter period in Canada. Between 1951 and 1965, he published twenty-one novels, and two works of non-fiction, including his autobiographical, A Swarthy Boy.
"Mittelholzer's novels include characters and situations from a variety of places within the Caribbean. They range in time from the earliest period of European settlement to the present day and deal with a cross section of ethnic groups and social classes, not to mention subjects of historical, political, psychological, and moral interest. In addition, eight of Mittelholzer's novels are non-Caribbean in subject and setting. For all these reasons he deserves the title of "father" of the novel in the English-speaking Caribbean" - Encyclopedia of World Biography.
Among Edgar Mittelholzer's many honours was to have been the first West Indian to be awarded the Guggenheim Fellowship for Creative Writing (1952). He died by his own hand in 1965, a suicide by fire predicted in several of his novels.
He published The Mad MacMullochs, written in 1953 and first published in 1959, under the pseudonym H. Austin Woodsley.
- L'art et l'objet livre en lui même sont magnifiques - La narration est vraiment unique ! - L'ambiance est extrêmement bien décrite, on a le sentiment de la météo et d'une atmosphère vraiment précise, on se sent plongés. - Les dialogues sont dissonants et fous, ce qui ajoute vraiment à cette ambiance sordide !
Les - :
- Le scénario et les points du vue sont confus (c'est voulu, mais sur 300 pages c'est épuisant) - Les personnages ont des développements très inégaux... Je suis très déçue par le personnage de Grâce... - Parfois, on tourne vraiment en rond ! J'ai sauté des pages.
I can’t tell you how much I hate this book. But I’ll try. I really don’t know why I followed this book through to its end, and I’m so sorry that I wasted my time doing so.
(SPOILERS AHEAD)
There is not one redeemable aspect to this book.
• The main character is thoroughly unlikeable. How he acts, thinks, and speaks, especially to his family is abominable. How his long-suffering wife and daughter put up with him is unbelievable. • The main character’s miraculous “recovery” at book’s end. As I read, I feared the author would go there but hoped he wouldn’t. But he did. • A female character’s “rump” being unendingly described and mentioned • The author’s unending references to child rape • The book’s back cover text: “…infused with the author’s controversial ideas on treatment of criminals and the mentally insane” is woefully misleading. Infused? Rather the reader is incessantly bludgeoned over the head, page after page with said evangelizing.
I probably forgot more. If I could have given this book zero stars I would have.
Un polar "expérimental" où le cozy crime flirte avec la démence. Une petite bourgade de la province londonienne, une ambiance qui n'est pas sans rappeler le petit village de Miss Marple, tout droit sorti de l'imagination d'Agatha Christie quelques années auparavant... et des personnages qui en seraient presque des caricatures de l'absurde. L'auteur brode une intrigue savamment organisée de sorte que chaque personnage a son arc narratif propre. Le lecteur fait des sauts de puce permanents entre l'un et l'autre, jusqu'à ce que l'intrigue soit correctement ficelée. La folie de l'auteur transparaît au travers des obsessions de ses personnages, la construction du récit, et la frontière entre fiction originale et démence créative est ténue. Le lecteur ne peut en être que troublé, longue sera la réflexion amenée par cette oeuvre qui suivra la lecture de celle-ci. Ma note : 2,75/10
Edgar Mittelholzer a le don des images et de l'atmosphère. En quelques phrases, le vent devient un personnage à part entière, qui annonce les horreurs à venir. Divisé en trois parties, c'est d'ailleurs le temps qui donne le rythme au récit. Bientôt succéderont le brouillard et la neige. S'ensuivent d'étonnants monologues intérieurs, pendant lesquels le lecteur devine aisément qui s'exprime. On retrouve le cynisme, l'humour noir, parfois en roue libre de l'auteur. L'incarnation du mal est encore une fois un vieillard d'apparence inoffensive. Est-il fou ? Ou est-il parfaitement lucide ? L'ambiguïté est cultivée jusqu'au bout. Elle traduit un désespoir profond qui emporte toutes les valeurs. Famille, société, justice. Tout est subverti au service de cette tragi-comédie, servie froide.
Very odd but intriguing book. Written in 1952 but reissued by the estimable Valancourt Press, this book traces the effect of a serial killer on two households. There is some wonderful and humorous writing. However, the book becomes a boring polemic when the author gets on the subject of eugenics and mandatory executions of criminals. For that I removed one star but otherwise have fun and skim the screed.
This is what seems to be the first of many of Edgar Mittelholzer's preaching novels. This is Edgar Mittelholzer's fifth novel, and it is the first entirely set in England. The story takes place in the idyllic village of Middenshot, near the Broadmoor lunatic asylum. However, terror and horror lash the idyllic, village life when a serial killer escapes from the asylum and commits murder every night. As in many of his novels, there is a vast array of characters:
1. Mr. Jarrow, who has been mad for about 17 years since his car accident. 2. Mr. Jarrow's wife, whom Mr. Jarrow believes to be dead and with whom he only speaks at the séances he holds once a week. 3. Mr. Holme, an ex-policeman who grows orchids and who seems to be Edgar Mittelholzer in desguise 4. Grace, Mr. Jarrow's daughter, who dreams of a love life with Mr. Holme and away from her parents. 5. Hyacinth, Mr. Holme's housekeeper, who regards her rump as her shapeliest asset to win Mr. Holme's love. 6. North and Southerby, the detectives who address Edgar Mittelholzer's ever present ideas about crime and punishment.
As in many other of his novels, the weather plays an important role setting the mood not only for the place but also for the characters and the reader. In addition, as in many of his books, the battle between strength and weakness is one of his preaching arguments:
"Most people avoid the dreadful. Think only of what's pleasant. But the dreadful is always there, always simmering behind our backs, or beyond our blinkers, always waiting to surge into view... it's strength or weakness that counts in this life of ours. If you act with strength, you win out and you achieve worthwhile states of being. If you act with weakness, you lose and you suffer chaos and defeat."
My favorite parts of the novel have to do with Mr. Jarrow. His comical displays of madness and the amusing séances he holds to talk to his wife are some of the highlights of the novel. However, I am giving this book four instead of five stars because of Mittelholzer's blunt and tiresome preaching concerning his ideas about crime and punishment. These are present in other of his novels, such as "A Tinkling in the Twilight" and "The Piling of Clouds". These ideas can be summed up as: if human vermin (the serial killer in this novel) is exterminated from the very beginning, it will not cause any more trouble in the future (escaping and continue murdering) because there is no such as thing as "rehabilitating bad seeds". You are what you were born and your upbringing has nothing to do with your becoming a good or a bad person as you grow up: you are born either good or a bad, period.
Had Edgar Mittelholzer been more subtle about this topic, this would have been a five star book. Despite the preaching, I still deem it a great novel. It is out of print, but it deserves to be reissued.