Earthlight, 1999, 595 p, plus ii p Map and vi p Dramatis Personae.

This is the usual Turtledove type of story-telling. An episodic narrative seen from many viewpoints; very similar to, indeed indistinguishable from, his Great War, American Empire and Settling Accounts series as well as his World War and Colonisation books. Only the setting here really differentiates it from those.

Unlike in those though everything is prefaced by a map. This world has seemingly only one major continent, Derlavai, though there is a counterpart to Antarctica to its south and a minor one to its northeast. Only the latter (plus a few scattered islands) is situated north of the planet’s equator. To the east of Derlavai is the Bothnian Ocean. This presumably goes all the way round the world to Derlavai’s west but there it is labelled on the map Bothian Ocean.

Magic or sorcery (both terms are used,) not technology, is the driving power in this world and there are frequent references to its governing rules of similarity and contagion. Since the discovery of ley lines from which power can be drawn (it’s not clear if this source is purely magical or if it derives from magnetism) travel has tended to follow those lines. Adding to the fantasy factor we have dragons, unicorns, behemoths, leviathans, and sticks firing energy beams. Rather than bombs, artillery fires eggs, also able to be dropped from dragons. Military units can be accompanied by mages. Beyond the range of ley lines magical energy needs to be procured by the sacrifice of human life. (Despite the exotic setting the people described are in effect humans – or as much as anyone in a Turtledove book can be said to be human.)

Dragons of course take the part of aeroplanes here, behemoths are in effect large rhinoceroses adapted and armoured for warfare, leviathans are counterparts of whales and take the role of submarines though with only one crew member. The unicorns are just glorified horses and don’t seem to have exotic uses. In amongst all this make-believe, names like Algarve, Cottbus and Ventspils do tend to break the spell a little.

Sometime in the past Derlavia was dominated by the Kaunian Empire. It was overthrown though, and now its successor realms of Unkerlant, Algarve, Forthweg, Valmiera, Jelgavia, Gyongyos, Lagaos and Kuusamo form various and variously shifting alliances. Each of these are monarchies with social hierarchies embedded in them. Ethnic groupings are frequently referred to in what amounts to racist terms, blonds, redheads etc. Those identified as of Kaunian descent are particularly disdained. There is also a high degree of sexism or outright misogyny in the way female characters are spoken about and treated by the male ones. Very few men here show any kind of respect towards them.

The story revolves around a war of revenge instigated by the Provinces of Algarve and Unkerlant but anyone with a passing interest in the Second World War (not as the back blurb has it, the First World War) or who has read Turtledove’s ‘Settling Accounts’ trilogy can spot resemblances and the tactical and strategic manœuvres to come. There even promises to be, in further instalments, a magical equivalent of the Manhattan Project whose nascent stirrings are given here.

As usual, Turtledove’s “characters” are no more than cyphers, in place merely to push the overall scenario forward or illustrate attitudes. Often we find them saying the same things over again in only slightly different ways. Unlike in Kate Atkinson’s Human Croquet, this is not beyond the purpose of emphasis, with the result it feels like being beaten about the head with words. Moreover, it reads as if parts of the book were written by different authors who did not know what the others had already told us.

There are five (five!) others of these ‘Darkness’ books to go. At least they’re not demanding reading.

Pedant’s corner:-Written in USian. Otherwise; a missing opening quotation mark at a piece of dialogue, “the Twinkings War” (many times; to avoid being misread this would have been better rendered as ‘the Twin Kings War’.) “He brought a chunk of melon … from a vendor” (He bought a chunk,) “that would have burned a hole in man” (in a man,) “‘wouldn’t by any chance by Algarvian ships’” (be Algarvian ships,) “on the other wide” (other side,) “had bee anything but idle” (had been.) “Bembo instead, he said,” (Bembo instead said.) “‘If I had to chose’” (to choose.) “‘You can borrow the book after I’d done with it’” (after I’ve done with it,) “a carried at his beck and call” (a carriage,) “found water with it in the days of the Kaunian Empire. Now people all over Derlavai dowsed for water with it in the days of the Kaunian Empire. Now people all over Derlavai dowsed for water, for metals, for coal,” (The sentence I have italicised is superfluous,) “‘till we shop up on their doorstep’” (till we show up,) a missing comma before a piece of dialogue, “even though a crystal” (even through a crystal,) a missing closing quotation mark, “wracking their brains” (racking,) ley lines/ley-lines (spelling switches between the two.) “‘We shall also put yachts to see’” (‘to sea’ makes more sense even if the next two words were ‘to peer’,) “on to the streets” (onto the streets,) Forgiathwens (Forthwegians.) “Wherever they were, though they had great strength.” (needs a comma after ‘though’,) “let alone to dot on a map” (let alone to a dot,) “to peasants haled before such tribunals” (hauled before,) an extraneous quotation mark at the end of one paragraph. “‘Just get the filth of my blackboard’” (off my blackboard.) “He patted Eforiel, bring the leviathan to a halt” (brought the leviathan to a halt.) “The first trousered soldiers was labeled Valmeria” (were labeled – and of course it’s ‘labelled’ in British English,) “had one of the tables up and spoken” (upped and spoken,) “Raunu shook his head” (the character concerned was Skarnu,) “arguing about for year” (for years,) maw (it’s not a mouth.) “Kaunian wheezed” (the character was Krasta, and she isn’t Kaunian.) “‘to send word or your doings’” (word of your doings,) “the ass’ ear” (x 2, ass’s,) “to find out of” (to find out if,) “squeeze in close behind him” (close beside him,) “in the paly” (in the play,) “the mist might lay on the sea all day” (might lie on the sea.) “They’d overran her” (overrun her.) “He thrashed for a couple of minutes, ever more weakly, they lay still” (then lay still.)

Plus marks for ‘stanch’ referring to a flow.

We’ve been to the New Era exhibition of Scottish Modern Art 1900-1950 at the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art (Modern Two.)

It’s not quite as good as the previous exhibition True to Life (for which I see some of the links to the paintings are no longer working) but there is still some good stuff there.

More so in the first two galleries. The pictures became darker both in tone and appearance as the galleries wore on.

Stanley Cursiter’s “The Regatta” is particularly striking with its bold slabs of colour:-

Cursiter’s “Rain on Princes Street”:-

J D Fergusson is more usually reckoned a colourist but though not an official war artist he was allowed to paint Portsmouth Docks during the Great War.

Another evocation of war is in Eric Robertson’s “Shellburst”:-

So too does Keith Henderson’s “Camouflage Hangars and Gas Gong”:-

The caption for Edward Baird’s “Unidentified Aircraft over Montrose” is odd as it says the bridge at the lower left has since been replaced by a suspension bridge but the one depicted is clearly exactly of that type:-

William McCance’s “Study for a Colossal Steel Head” is very modernistic:-

Fontana, 2012, 387p.

To anyone familiar with the film The Desert Fox, starring James Mason, the outlines of Rommel’s story will be familiar. The movie, though based on this book – the author even plays himself in the film – concentrates less on Rommel’s military career than his last days; with Rommel’s unwitting contacts with the July plotters leading to his forced suicide.

This biography, written after contact with Rommel’s family and first published in 1950, inevitably tends to be admiring. The author’s personal experience of Rommel’s conduct towards him as a PoW helps in this regard and there were no accusations of war crimes committed by the Afrika Korps. Winston Churchill himself regarded Rommel as a worthy opponent. Rommel’s anti-Nazi credentials are taken for granted by Young. (However recent reassessments in Germany have called this into question.)

In a military sense Rommel’s career speaks for itself. Though criticised as lacking in the strategic sense, his tactical ability, his capacity to see an opportunity and exploit it, to take risks even (especially?) when on the back foot paid off time and again. He had what the Germans call Fingerspitzengefühl, “intuition in his fingers” and a sort of sixth sense for avoiding death.

Not a typical Prussian General (he was in fact a Württemberger and liked nothing better than talking to soldiers from the locality in the thick Swabian dialect) and not from a military family, in the Great War he won the Pour le Mérite for exploits on the Italian Front where he first displayed the qualities which made his troops so willing to follow him. He was in the forefront of the German breakthroughs in the defeat of France in 1940, but his commanders and colleagues thought him too reckless and/or selfish – and too willing to take credit for wider success. Part of this may, of course, have been professional jealousy. It was the Western Desert, with its wide open spaces, that allowed him to show himself as a master of motorised/armoured warfare. He recognised that such battles were more akin to sea warfare than land and he criticised the British for their more rigid approach while acknowledging that their training for more static warfare was excellent.

I had not realised before how nearly General Auchinleck‘s Operation Crusader came to defeating Rommel completely a year earlier than Alamein. That the British/Empire forces did so well considering their inferior equipment (poorer anti-tank guns, lower quality tanks – some Grants were available at this time but Shermans not until the next year) speaks volumes for their tenacity and endeavour. Rommell eventually turned the tables but his race to Egypt seriously overstretched both his army and his supply lines.

It was his contention that reinforcement could have resulted in him capturing Egypt and the Suez Canal. Once held at Alamein, and facing a well supplied and trained opponent with overwhelming superiority, he and his staff knew the jig was up.

He was bitterly aggrieved that, in the subsequent retreat and the aftermath of Operation Torch, reinforcements were then rushed in to Tunisia in what was by the time a lost cause.

After his first inspections of it he also knew that the much vaunted Atlantic Wall was anything but impregnable yet nevertheless – even through his disillusionment with Hitler and the upper General Staff (he had inspired the enmity of Kietel and Jodl in particular) – he threw himself into efforts to improve it.

British people who lived through the Second World War have a tendency to refer to the Italian army as a byword for uselessness (making jokes about tanks with only reverse gears for example.) It is noteworthy that Rommel himself had a greater appreciation of their qualities. “The Italian soldier was willing, unselfish and a good comrade and, considering his circumstances, his achievement was far above the average.” He goes on to add that their army’s performance exceeded anything the Italian Army had done for over 100 years. He attributes any failure to their military and state system, their poor equipment and lack of interest from Italian politicians.

A few months ago on an open day we visited the Old Kirk, Kirkcaldy, the old parish church of the town, whose tower can be seen here from Kirk Wynd.

We knew before we went that there was some stained glass by the pre-Raphaelite (in its later phase) Edward Burne Jones.

The church is no longer in use as a place of worship having been closed as such by the Church of Scotland in November 2010. The congregation merged with that of St Brycedale Church – no more than 50 yards away! – to become known as St Bryce Kirk. St Bryce is the patron saint of Kirkcaldy. (See here.) These two Burne Jones windows are towards the back of the building if you were entering from Kirk Wynd and are only two of many stained glass windows whose splendour cannot be fully experienced from the outside.

The above much more recent stained glass windows represent the flames of the fire which damaged the interior a good few years ago. These flank the main entrance from Kirk Wynd.

One slightly older window by Crear McCartney is on the immediate left wall (see left.)

None of the pews remain as the space inside has been cleared for community use.

It is possible to climb the tower. Don’t do it on a windy day (of which there are a quite a few in Kirkcaldy) as you are fairly exposed on the tower parapet.

Before the stairs/ladders which allow the climb we passed the impressive memorial – see below – to the members of the congregation who died in the World Wars. (The 1939-45 addition blends in well.)

I had to stitch three pictures to get the full panorama of the memorial as the space to step back was limited. The passageway to the stairs is on the left of this.