Out of the Night [The Black Dark Murders] Robert O. Saber [pseud. Milton K. Ozaki] Toronto: Harlequin, 1954 |
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A JOURNEY THROUGH CANADA'S FORGOTTEN, NEGLECTED AND SUPPRESSED WRITING
Out of the Night [The Black Dark Murders] Robert O. Saber [pseud. Milton K. Ozaki] Toronto: Harlequin, 1954 |
1989 |
1989 |
1991 |
1994 |
Creature nel cervello [Brain Child] Milan: Mondadori, 1991 |
The weapons Britain is supplying to its Arab allies are somehow ending up in the hands of Eastern European fascists and the Foreign Office is not amused. One man, Gerald Burke, is called upon to put a stop to it. An Oxford-educated archeologist-turned-adventurer, Burke seems a good choice; he knows the region, has a good number of contacts, and hails from rural Nova Scotia (Chignecto, it is implied). What's more, Burke comes with Abdula el Zoghri, a manservant who has a talent for getting out of tight spots.
After accepting the assignment, our hero returns to his Bloomsbury Square flat to find a warning in the form of a black feather, quill-upwards, protruding from the brass plaque bearing his name. The fact that they're onto him doesn't deter Burke from his mission. Burke makes for Marseilles, and is booking passage to Salonika when a pretty Russian girl literally falls into his arms. He knows she's a spy, Zoghri knows she's a spy, and yet they're happy to play along.So begins my review of Black Feather, the lone novel by war hero and sometime pulp writer Harold Benge Atlee (1890-1978). You can read the entire piece here – gratis – at the Canadian Notes & Queries site.
Thankful for What?
Not for the mighty world, O Lord, tonight,
Nations and kingdoms in their fearful might —
Let me be glad the kettle gently sings,
Let me be thankful just for the little things.
Thankful for simple food and supper spread,
Thankful for shelter and a warm, clean bed,
For little joyful feet that gladly run
To welcome me when my day's work is done.
Thankful for friends who share my woe or mirth,
Glad for the warm, sweet fragrance of the earth,
For golden pools of sunlight on the floor,
For love that sheds its peace about my door.
For little friendly days that slip away,
With only meals and bed, and work and play,
A rocking-chair and kindly firelight —
For little things let me be glad tonight.
The Writers' ChapelAll are welcome!
St Jax Montréal
1439 St Catherine Street West
(Bishops Street entrance)
Tuesday, October 3rd at 6:00 pm