For the #1962 Club: The Moonspinners by Mary Stewart

I sometimes wonder if I have grown out of an author, or have just hit upon that author's poorer books. I read Mary Stewart's Nine Coaches Waiting last year and could only bring myself to give it two stars, so disappointing did I find it. 

I hoped that my next foray into Stewart's tales of romantic suspense would reinstate the good opinion of her that I had formed from reading Madam, Will You Talk? and Wildfire at Midnight. Unfortunately The Moonspinners turned out to be another dud, at least for me. 

Nicola works for the British Consul at Athens and is taking a holiday in the remote and inaccessible Cretan coastal village of Agios Georgios. She was to have met up with her older cousin Frances before starting her journey, but Frances is arriving on a friend's yacht (of course!) and has been delayed. Nicola decides to get on with her trip, and persuades a friendly American couple to drop her off at the top of a long track leading down through uninhabited countryside to the tiny village. They're not happy about leaving her there, but she apparently knows best;

'Nobody's going to murder a visitor!'

Need I tell you that on her way down to the sea she meets trouble? Thought not.

This particular trouble comes in the form of a hunky young Englishman called Mark, who's been shot and injured, and his Greek companion Landis. Mark is all public school and derring-do, and is forever telling Nicola he doesn't want a mere woman involved in his problems. Phrases like 'that's my girl' and 'But my dear, for goodness sake!' fall readily from his patriarchal and patrician lips. Nicola pretends she thinks he's a pain in the neck but (of course!) can't possibly leave the pair of them to get on with it. 

She soon learns that Mark and his younger brother Colin were taking a trip on Landis's boat, stopped off to explore the area, and inadvertently witnessed a murder. The murderers saw them, shot Mark and kidnapped Colin. Mark refuses to leave the island, or go to the police, unless and until Colin is found. 

There then follows an increasingly ridiculous story, in which Nicola does indeed (temporarily) leave Mark to it and proceed to her hotel, but soon realises that Stratos, the owner, who has returned to his birthplace after making his fortune in a Soho restaurant, and Stratos's assistant Tony, who's English but says he has come to Crete with Stratos for the good of his health, are both up to their necks in intrigue and criminal activity. Stratos's sister Sofia is somehow also involved, but reluctantly; her husband Josef is a thug who carries out Stratos's and Tony's dirty work for them. 

The weak and unconvincing plot of The Moonspinners was not, for me, the worst aspect of it. The narrative is absolutely overloaded with description - especially of the flora and fauna of the island - and while a little local background can be a helpful aid to the imagination, Stewart goes on, and on, and on, so much about every Greek flower and shrub that I wanted to scream. Yes I get that the author must be very familiar with the location, good for her, but all this botanical detail made it very hard for me to concentrate on the action. Maybe people had more patience back in 1962 - but the second book I'm reading for the club sets a similar (though English) summer scene so much more effectively and with so much less verbiage. 

Mary Stewart (image: Wikipedia)

Another aspect of the book that jars with the 21st century reader is Stewart's homophobic and cliched depiction of Tony. There's nothing wrong with a camp character - I love Barbara Pym's Keith - but Stewart's Tony is a repulsive caricature, one whose image is not improved by Frances loudly and repeatedly calling him 'Little Lord Fauntleroy.' 

As Nicola, Frances, Mark and Landis close in on the villains, the plot becomes ever more contorted and unbelievable. The only sympathetic character is Sofia, who's clearly terrified of her abusive and violent husband but still does her best to help Mark find Colin. Even then, at one point Nicola declares that, much as Sofia has a terrible life and has laid herself open to serious danger to help Colin, she can't really bother about that;

'Sofia would have to protect herself. It was my job to protect my own side, and that included me.'

Good bit of female solidarity there Mary, and extra points for mixing it with a healthy dash of little Englander. 

I've never read a Mary Stewart novel that didn't end in happy ever after, so I doubt I need to reveal the conclusion of The Moonspinners. Even so, this one particularly irked me in that we are meant to be persuaded that one of the baddies isn't really bad - or rather, not as bad as the totally evil Greeks - simply because he's One of Us. 

I know that these attitudes were probably typical of their era, but whereas that might - just - count as an excuse in a much better novel, The Moonspinners has, to me, no real redeeming features, and my copy will be making its way to the charity shop at top speed. Having said that, The Moonspinners is said to be one of Stewart's most popular novels, with many people giving it rave reviews on Goodreads. In 1964 it was even made into a Disney live-action film starring none other than Hayley Mills.   

Horses for courses, as my Irish friend says. Or in this case, perhaps, each to their own baklava.