Gimlet-eyed

For many years, my mother gave me literary themed calendars for Christmas.

The first of these was a simple calendar that listed the birthdays of various writers of note. I remember my tremendous dismay when I turned to my birthday, July 23, and discovered the name of Coventry Patmore.

If the sight of his name doesn’t start you quoting from his most famous work, Angel in the House, you’re not alone. I remember going to the library to learn more about my birthday twin. Librarians, who like psychotherapists, hear everything and can keep a secret, understood my distress as they described this poem about the embodiment of feminine perfection. They did not expect to gladden my heart. I’m sure Victorian scholars could offer more nuance and context, but suffice it to say that the angel in the house is obedient to her husband and devoted to her children. Not the kind of role model I was looking for at the time. The Angel in the House gets to be but she doesn’t get to act.

Years passed. Literary calendars got savvier. One Christmas I turned to July 23 to find that Coventry Patmore had been replaced by Raymond Chandler. RAYMOND CHANDLER!!

Honor. Despair. Ennui. ALCOHOL!! My kind of guy.

So every year around my birthday I spend a little time with Mr. Chandler. Several years ago, I tried a gimlet. According to Terry Lennox, Philip Marlowe’s client in The Long Goodbye, a proper gimlet is made with half gin and half Rose’s Lime Juice. I don’t know if my gimlet was made using that recipe, but it was uninspiring. I returned to the world of the Rob Roy and the vodka martini.

I’ve never lost my taste for Chandler’s prose. This is Terry Lennox’s paean to the perfect moment in a bar:

‘I like bars just after they open for the evening. When the air inside is still cool and clean and everything is shiny and the barkeep is giving himself that last look in the mirror to see if his tie is straight and his hair is smooth. I like the neat bottles on the bar back and the lovely shining glasses and the anticipation. I like to watch the man mix the first one of the evening and put it down on a crisp mat and pull the little folded napkin beside it. I like to taste it slowly. The first quiet drink of the evening in a quiet bar—that’s wonderful.’

Happy Birthday, Raymond Chandler (a few days late)

Stephanie Patterson

*NB: If you go to youtube you can hear Ian Fleming interviewing Raymond Chandler. Some of it is hard to hear, but it’s well worth a listen.

I Love Librarians

Our guest blogger today is Jane K. Cleland, hands down one of the warmest, most generous colleagues anywhere. Jane is the author of the IMBA bestselling and Agatha- and Anthony-nominated Josie Prescott Antiques Mystery series. Set on the rugged coast of New Hampshire, the books are often reviewed as an Antiques Roadshow for mystery fans.

The eighth in the series, Lethal Treasure, will be published in June 2013. The first in the series, Consigned to Death, was named by Library Journal as one of only 22 “core titles” recommended for librarians seeking to build a cozy mystery collection, alongside novels by Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers. Publishers Weekly said of The Josie Prescott Antiques Mysteries, "Ingenious ... engaging!"

Jane also hosts the TV interview program, The Writers Room, and is on the faculty of Lehman College, part of the City University of New York. She is a past president of the New York chapter of Mystery Writers of America and a fellow lover of libraries. You can visit Jane at www.janecleland.net.

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Seventy-five percent of my nieces are librarians. Isn’t that odd? Any family can have a librarian in it... heck... I bet some families have two... but all? Okay... we’re a small family... I only have four nieces... but still... three of them are librarians (and the fourth is a Ph.D. in social psychology, a highly analytical field). Lucky me. Librarians (and social psychologists) are a remarkable breed of people. They’re curious, knowledgeable, smart, and helpful. No wonder I love librarians. One of my nieces is a communications expert, researching ways and means of framing and disseminating her clients’ messages. Another is a cognitive expert, assisting scientists in researching issues surrounding thinking and assimilating information. My third niece is an elementary education expert, working with youngins to instill a love of reading and learning. The fourth is a researcher at a major university. I’m in awe of all four.

I come by my attitude of respect and appreciation honestly; my mother loved librarians, too. When I was a mere slip of a girl she taught me that if you wanted to know something you could always consult a librarian because they either know everything or they know where to find out everything.

When I was in sixth grade, I consulted a librarian as to whether Paul Revere’s horse was a mare. (I needed it as a rhyme in a poem, and being an honest girl, I couldn’t just say it was a mare if it was, in fact, a stallion. Note of interest: She found a contemporary reference stating that Paul Revere’s horse was a mare; I thought you’d want to know.) When I was in eighth grade, a librarian held me enraptured as she discussed the Great Molasses Flood of 1919. (Yes, you read that right. Twenty-one people died a gruesome death, asphyxiated by molasses.)

To this day, I love working with librarians as I work to introduce readers to my protagonist, antiques appraiser, Josie Prescott. As an author, I’m in the enviable position of getting to do just that—a lot. As many of you know, I tour extensively [http://www.janecleland.net/htm/appearances/schedule.htm ] as I work to introduce readers to Josie.

I love the buildings. I love the books. I love the reverence implicit in the hushed conversations. But mostly, I love the librarians.

The Kansas City Public Library

Jane Cleland

www.janecleland.net