From the new novels

Press, 29 March 1980, Page 17

From the new novels

The Elizabeth Affair. By Robert Barry Holmes. Dunmore Press, 1979.190 pp. $10.95. In his first novel Robert Barry Holmes explores uncharted territory, basing his tale on the exploits of the Maori chief Te Rauparaha and his journey to Akaroa in the British trader Elizabeth to claim utu, or revenge, on the southern Ngaitahu tribe. From an historical point of view the novel is interesting and informative. The author presents detailed descriptions of traditional Maori practices, and the chain of events ‘leading to _Te Rauparaha and his warriors slaughtering the Ngaitahus gives an insight into the intelligence and cunning of the Maori chief. But as a literary work, “The Elizabeth Affair” is somewhat lacking. The characters are superficial figures. Captain Stewart is nothing but cowardly, the trading master Cow’ell totally materialistic, and the Maoris’ only characteristic seems to be duplicity. Perhaps the author tried a little too hard. Scenes requiring short, sharp writing to heighten the dramatic effect are encumbered by long-winded descriptions. Nevertheless, those with a feeling for local history will find interest in the book. — Garry Brittenden.

Tinsel. By William Goldman. Macmillan, 1979. 342 pp. $16.50.

The magic that was Hollywood has, over the last few decades, started to show the cheap construction under the peeling gold paint. The author is a longtime script writer with an academy award for “All The President’s Men” as well as several other novels that have become successful films. He is therefore very familiar with the inside rituals of the filmland’s mating and money-making dances and makes the centrepiece of this novel a proposed film of the last days of Marilyn Monroe and the struggle to obtain the lead part.. In an up-to-date version of “Valley of the Dolls”,, fading actresses use all their wiles to be noticed by climbing the ladder of success horizontally with flashbacks to histories of anorexia nervosa, fixations on pneumatic breasts, psychotic children and endless beddings. Written almost in the style of gossip columnists, this is a slight production which can be recommended only for superficial holiday filling in of time. — Ralf Unger.

The Diamond. By Elizabeth Byrd. Mac* • millan; 1979. 223 pp. $16.50. The priceless diamond weighed 103 metric carats and was ’set in gold. A! gift from Henry' II to-his mistress Diane de Poitiers, it passed subsequently, to Robert Dudley, Earlof Leicester, from Elizageth I, and on down through 400 years of colourful history to an aspiring and greedy little' actress from New York at the turn of the twentieth century. Like Wilkie Collins’s “Moonstone” of similar illrepute, Elizabeth Byrd’s fatal' gem exerts its poxvers over the rich and powerful, beautiful and doomed, in this highly romantic yet readable tale.- ’ A blend of fact and fantasy,, the story of the diamond weaves together the lives of Amy Robsart, Dudley’s tragically fated wife, Prince Gregory Shuisky, a young licentiate from the Russian court of 1704, Eliza de la Croix, an American adventuress, and Lord Henry Willard, who seemed condemned to a life-time of matrimonial misery. Elizabeth Byrd writes with zest and a good deal of imagination. Historically her facts .may be few and far between, but her, ability to spin a good tale is undoubted. — Diane Prout.

The Healers. By Gerald Green. Outback Press, 1979. 500 pp. $13.95.

The author of “Holocaust" has this' time concentrated on the world of medicine. The participants come in all shapes and sizes — from the idealist who wants to take health to the masses, to the fashionable surgeon whose diagnosis of ’a heart by-pass operation is shimmered over by the dollar signs in his. eyes, and surrounded by administrative political manoeuvering and cover-up tactics. The Derry family forms the focal point in this panorama of surgery, waiting rooms and field clinics, with their fair share of disturbed wives and children and philanderings. Somehow, medical training and sexual appetite ' have become associated in the public’s mind, perhaps through the lamentable series of British films on medical students. This author does not give the lie to belief that familiarity with the naked human form fosters attempt, rather than contempt. Lightly rendered, no real message, but pleasant reading that may develop stimulating fantasies while waiting to see a specialist ana his nurse. —Ralf Unger.