Today is our third day at sea, and yet another day of mainly rain, fog and an invisible horizon. But while the weather might be downcast, I am not, even though I have been confined to my cabin with a nasty chest infection. That is the problem with breathing in the same air as many other passengers. We have had literally hundreds of new passengers embarking at Hong Kong each time, and quite a number of others at other ports. There will be another big changeover in Singapore. Most new passengers arrive by air. Is it any wonder bugs get passed around?
I am only hoping my situation will improve enough by early tomorrow morning for me to consider it safe and, more importantly, fair of me, to mingle with other passengers and to travel to Bangkok.
We have received a range of warnings with regard to visiting Bangkok. Due to political unrest, we are advised to avoid crowds and any semblance of a protest, in case it becomes violent. This may not be easy when we are going to the Palace and a major temple as part of our tour, both of which are very popular tourist spots, and will have to walk at least a kilometre between the bus and those venues through crowded streets. We all must wear dark or white or pastel non-see-through clothing that fully covers us, even our arms, though the forecast is for 35 degrees and very high humidity, because to do otherwise would be to show disrespect to a nation still in mourning for its former King.
Whilst I have been confined, however, I have been reading a terrific book that I suspect you would not see anywhere but in a British or maybe also a US library. Many of you know that two of the genres of literature I enjoy, though by no means the only ones, are mysteries/crime novels (that is, ‘whodunnits’), as well as classics from the Victorian period. Charles Dickens is probably my favourite author, with his great dedication to social justice, the kind and fair treatment of children, and decent education, so powerfully conveyed in his novels. Who can forget his 'Oliver Twist' and 'David Copperfield'? Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is another favourite, with his Sherlock Holmes series and emphasis on scientific evidence and reason.
I was therefore delighted to discover in the library a book that is a collection of excerpts from the writings of many early crime writers in the 1800s, thus marrying my two interests in one go. Apparently this was the era in which detective stories began to appear. The selections are fascinating, and the book is beautifully edited, giving some of the background of each author, and their approach to writing in this genre. There is one delightful spoof on Sherlock Holmes. And I had no idea that Mark Twain wrote about solving a case using fingerprints before they were supposedly discovered and used by the very earliest forensic scientists. Many of the authors I had not heard of before, but I was soon engrossed in their stories. It was great that some feature very clever female detectives, not something encouraged in the Victorian era. Strangely, the only one that was less appealing in its style, though very revealing of the dark side of early London, was the contribution by Charles Dickens. Anyhow, here are the details should you wish to read the book yourself.
Title: ‘The Dead Witness - A Connoisseur’s Collection of Victorian Detective Stories’
Editor: Michael Sims
Published in Great Britain: 2011
Publisher: Bloomsbury
Website: www.bloomsbury.com/michaelsims
With 22 stories, it’s a big book! But so worth the read.
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