Pop. 1280 by Jim Thompson

1280Pop. 1280 is my first encounter with Jim Thompson, a prolific author of hardboiled crime fiction best known for writing The Killer Inside Me. I had previously learned about him as part of a lecture about violence and crime fiction in the Secrets of Great Mystery and Suspense Fiction series and was even more intrigued when I saw JJ had listed him as one of his Kings of Crime.

The novel’s protagonist is Nick Corey, a corrupt and lazy sheriff in a tiny county in rural Texas. His days are spent taking bribes, eating and drinking at the various establishments in the town and sleeping with the town’s single (and some not so single) women.

He has some problems though that threaten his chances of keeping this job and the comfortable living that comes with it. For one thing, he is being publicly disrespected by two pimps at the local brothel. With a tough reelection fight looming he wants to stamp this out before it can do more damage to his public persona. And then there’s his complicated love life…

Pop. 1280 follows Nick as he attempts to straighten out some of these problems, indulge his appetites and ensure his reelection to the only job he feels suited for. While he appears to be quite a simple, corny kind of guy who tries to avoid taking any firm positions, we soon learn that he gives far more thought to what he does than it appears as he commits murder and manipulates another character into claiming responsibility for it. Crucially we are not told what he intends and so his actions often seem irrational or counterproductive, only for the reason for them to become clear after the fact.

Not every aspect of the story falls within Nick’s control however and he spends significant chunks of the novel responding to problems instigated by other characters. This gives the story a meandering, unpredictable quality as we see him find opportunities in situations that seem quite undesirable, showing his quick mind and talent for manipulation.

Thompson’s story drives home a deeply pessimistic view of humanity in which no one wants to obey the law themselves but wants to see others subjected to it. Nick reflects that what this amounts to is that the influential folk want to be left alone and to see him pick on the town’s black and poor white population instead and what we see confirms it. Almost all of the supporting characters are shown to be in some way corrupt, greedy and selfish and several of his victims seem to quite deserve their fates, usually falling into them because of their own moral compromises and instincts.

There are some very strong satirical moments in the story and it should be said that as dark as the subject matter can be, it is often very amusing. Nick’s habit of responding to criticism with a folksy saying works throughout the novel while his amorous misadventures place him in some truly ridiculous situations. These sorts of comedic moments keep the overall feel of the piece quite light and give a good sense of balance to the novel as a whole.

The three central women in Nick’s life are also all quite intriguing and varied figures, each feeling quite fleshed out if far from sympathetically. I do not want to spoil the way each is developed and used in the story but I think they all have an interesting journey with that of Rose, his wife’s best friend whose husband is abusive, being the most striking. That storyline takes several unpredictable turns and incorporates several of the novel’s most shocking moments.

Thompson cultivates a feeling of shock and dismay on the part of the reader right the way through the novel, routinely exposing characters’ vices and cruelties. Readers should expect to find considerable, casual use of a racial epithet by pretty well every character in the book which, while not pleasant, is authentic to the time and setting.

Nick is not a nice man, nor can he really be elevated to the status of anti-hero. He is a villain who does some truly cruel things but because the people he targets are often more loathsome than him readers may well enjoy seeing him pull off his plans. While he seems to obfuscate and lie at points in his narrative, he can also be quite straightforward in admitting to exactly who and what he is. For that reason when he explains himself at the end of the novel it doesn’t come as a shock but rather it is the logical conclusion to what we have observed throughout the story.

It is surprising that although the book touches on some truly dark themes Thompson is pretty restrained in his use of violence. The threat of it and our knowledge that it is happening is always there but there are relatively few moments in which we see it explicitly described. This contrasted with the image I had of Thompson’s style and I will be interested to see whether that is true of his other novels.

It should be said that while this is a crime story that this is not a mystery. There is nothing here for the reader to detect or deduce other than what exactly Nick has planned and his motive, both of which are spelled out early in the book.

Rather Pop. 1280 is both a character study of a killer and an exploration of the human propensity towards selfishness, greed and hatred. Stephen Marche described it as ‘a romp through a world of nearly infinite deceit’ and while I don’t have enough knowledge of the author’s work to be able to agree with his assessment that it is the author’s true masterpiece, I would certainly say it is a compelling, cynical read that manages to shock, appall and amuse in fairly equal measures.

A Demon in My View by Ruth Rendell

RendellI have written before about how one of my earliest crime fiction memories was seeing my mother reading Ruth Rendell books while she waited to pick us up from events. Well, my parents are in town for the holidays and they thoughtfully came bearing a stack of those Arrow paperbacks (sadly not pictured – I couldn’t find a good enough scan of those covers).

Many of the titles were Wexford novels but the volume that caught my eye first was the standalone novel, A Demon in My View. The book was an award winner, winning the author her first CWA Golden Dagger for Best Crime Novel in 1976, but what intrigued me was that it clearly was an inverted crime novel.

Arthur Johnson works as a clerk and assists his building’s landlord by collecting the rent each week. While he seems meek and timid, we learn that he is a psychopath who murdered several women years earlier before finding a way of channeling his aggressions, dressing up a mannequin which he keeps in the building’s basement and strangling it. Doing this he has managed to repress his murderous urges and is living a comfortable, if isolated life.

His comfortable world is threatened however when the landlord informs him that another man with the same last name and first initial, Anthony Johnson, will be moving into the building. For one thing, Anthony never seems to leave the building and his room overlooks the entrance to the cellar which prevents him from making his visits to that mannequin. For another, Arthur dreads the possibility that the two men’s mail may be mixed up and that he may open a letter meant for his neighbor instead.

Rendell’s Arthur is an intriguing creation being terrifying in his apparent normalcy. He is certainly odd, insisting on observing formalities and holding some strong if unspoken views on race, nationality and religion, but he holds down a regular job and gives his neighbors no cause to suspect him. He can seem rather sad and pathetic, we are told Anthony feels quite sorry for him, and I think we can understand his sense of inferiority and rage, even if he is unaware of it.

Though this story focuses on Arthur’s journey from the point of Anthony’s arrival, Rendell does find time to depict and explore his first murder in enough detail to give a sense of how he came to be this way. She does not present the reader with a potted explanation but rather provides us with the evidence and allows us to piece it together for ourselves. I found this to be quite effective and I appreciated that she depicts what is necessary to establish the character but does not feel the need to show us each instance of violence.

By contrast, Anthony’s life seems messy and chaotic. The psychology student who studies psychopaths seems far more focused on his love life than on paying attention to the others in the building with him. In many ways he seems an opposite of Arthur and it is no surprise that the two men do not get on together.

This novel is really the story of how the rivalry and tension between these two men ultimately proves destructive to them. I appreciated Rendell’s construction of a series of small actions, perceived as aggressions, that creates chaos and confusion. It is easy to understand both men’s worries and motivations and how their actions impact each other.

Rendell writes sympathetically to both characters, describing events in the third person but infusing the narration with their thoughts, feelings and observations. This does mean that we spend quite a bit of time inside Arthur’s head, experiencing things from his perspective and hearing his casual observations that are peppered with intolerant and judgmental thoughts. At other points we see how he can take a small, perhaps rather thoughtless event and perceive it to be something quite different.

Some may find the time spent inside Arthur’s head to be unsettling or feel that it makes for a rather unpleasant reading experience. For my part I can certainly understand it causing discomfort though I think the author created a compelling, credible character and sells the idea of killing as a compulsion.

One element of the novel that I found to be particularly interesting is the idea that pain and harm are often not caused intentionally but through oversight or thoughtlessness. This rang true to me and I think Rendell develops this theme very cleverly, constructing a story in which the intended effects of an action often turn out to be quite different from their actual consequences.

In addition to the two Johnsons, Rendell creates a wide and varied cast of characters with strong personality types to inhabit this converted house. While there was no breakout character for me, I think she succeeds in creating the sense of a real community within the building and using that to demonstrate Arthur’s sense of isolation.

Having discussed the setup, characters and approach that the story takes, I should perhaps say a word about the way it concludes. Since finishing the book I have read several reviews that describe its ending as disappointing. I disagree with that assessment but I understand what they mean.

The reason is that Rendell was not really writing a mystery novel but rather a crime novel. Sure, there are questions about whether and how the murderer might get caught but her interest is in how the crimes affect the perpetrator and the community around them rather than delivering action or a more traditional puzzle to solve.

For me the ending possessed a powerful bluntness and I think it plays beautifully into the themes of the novel as a whole. I appreciated that Rendell foreshadows this moment at a couple of points within the novel so, rather than coming from nowhere, it is a logical development of the plot and consequence of a character’s actions.

While A Demon In My View may be a little dark and unsettling for some readers, I think it is a striking example of the inverted crime form. The character of Arthur feels credible and I think Rendell does an excellent job of pointing out some of the contradictions within him. Based on this experience, I can only hope that there are a few other Rendell inverted crime stories sitting waiting for me in this stack.

Blueprint for Murder by Roger Bax

blueprintWhen I reviewed Disposing of Henry a few months ago I found it to be a frustrating read. It had some brilliant and effective moments including a highly effective murder scene and the author’s use of horrific imagery as the killers try to cover up their crime. Unpleasant characterizations and somewhat predictable plotting however made reading it a rather joyless experience.

Blueprint for Murder was written a year before that work and has many elements in common. We have a largely unsympathetic murderer, a gentle and generous victim as well as an evocative murder scene but the balance here is slightly different and the introduction of some lighter elements makes it a more entertaining read.

The novel begins with a prologue that not only introduces us to our murderer, it also clearly sets the tone for what will follow. In the final days of the war a British soldier, Arthur Cross, is on the run through the countryside when he happens upon a farm. Though he is in a German uniform he is able to tell the farmer and his daughter that he is British and had been in a prisoner of war camp after his plane was shot down. He is given shelter which he repays by robbing and murdering them.

Several months later paint manufacturer Charles Collison throws a small get-together on his boat for his son, Geoffrey, and his nephew, Arthur. He is pleased that everyone is finally together again and offers both men the opportunity to manage the day-to-day running of his firm for a comfortable wage and to come live with him. Arthur has little interest in the job but when Charles mentions that he has instructed his solicitor to draw up a will splitting his estate between the two his thoughts immediately turn to ways to murder the old man.

One of the themes that I noticed about both Bax novels is that the experience of going to war is shown to make men hard and bitter. Arthur does not dislike his Uncle beyond finding him a little pompous and rather admires his steadiness and that he feels a sense of duty towards his nephew but feels that he does not want to work hard or strive. He is not planning a long and prosperous life for himself but plans to live fast and die young. Charles’ death offers him a way to live the life he wants and he does not see why he should have to wait for that.

The plan he develops is a rather ingenious, if risky one that I will not spoil beyond saying that he aims to create a perfect alibi for himself. Arthur approaches planning his crime in a cold, analytical way and coolly thinks through many of the problems he may face. He even considers that it would be a good thing if he could contrive a way for the blame to seem to fall onto his cousin who would be the other likely suspect.

In short, this isn’t the sort of story where the killer leaves an obvious trail back to themselves. Arthur’s plan is solidly thought through and the thing that will undo him is something that he never considers although he has a contingency in place if things go badly for him. The reader will not be able to deduce that twist so this is really more of an inverted crime story than a mystery but I think it is very well done and leads to an exciting, action-driven conclusion.

While Arthur is the protagonist, “Bax” introduces a secondary character who will serve as a hero and romantic lead. Charles’ son Geoffrey is of a similar age but had a very different experience during the war having quite enjoyed his time in uniform and seen very little of the conflict itself. He is positive and I imagine that contemporary readers would have seen him as quite charming although some of his attitudes come off as quite sexist to a modern reader.

Take for instance his dating techniques which leave a lot to be desired. Part way into the story he meets a young woman who is training to become a doctor and asks her out on a date where he inquires about her unusual career choice. During their conversation he manages to imply that she lacks the physical strength and the backbone to be a surgeon and yet she amazingly accepts a second date during which he instructs her to go make him a pot of tea. Which she does.

I rolled my eyes quite a lot during most of the scenes between this pair and yet I think their presence gives the story a lightness and optimism it needs to achieve a sense of balance with Arthur’s story. Disposing of Henry would made the mistake of killing off its only sympathetic character early in the story but even if we do not like Geoffrey, most readers would probably agree that he does nothing to deserve getting caught up in this situation.

It all culminates in a very dramatic and action-driven conclusion that I think is well-crafted, even though one of the biggest moments is signposted far too clearly early in the novel. There are some strong action beats though sadly an attempt at a big character reveal fell a bit flat for me as it tried to surprise me with something I had assumed we were being told quite directly early in the novel. I can only assume that the reveal may have been more surprising to readers in the late-40s.

Still, in spite of those small quibbles and a few elements that didn’t work quite as they should have, I found this to be a very effective inverted crime story. Arthur’s murder plan is clever and featured some elements I hadn’t seen before. The author does a phenomenal job of bringing the moment of the murder to life and makes the reader feel the tension and the violence of that scene.

For those who can stomach spending time with its cold and vicious protagonist, I think this is a rewarding and often quite exciting read. I certainly plan on seeking out more work by this author, not only under this pseudonym but also as Andrew Garve, in the near future.

Vintage Mysteries Challenge: Matriarch/patriarch of the family (Who)

Except for One Thing by John Russell Fearn

ExceptForRichard Harvey is a wealthy and prominent research chemist who for the past two years has been secretly engaged to Valerie Hadfield, a leading actress. The secrecy was necessary because of a non-marriage clause in her contract but as she is about to start a new role they should soon be able to make their relationship public.

The problem is that Richard wants out. As time has passed he has come to realize that he was more attracted to the character she was on stage than to the real woman who can be ‘cold, hard, and carved out of a glacier’. He has met and fallen in love with another woman, Joyce, and he wants to marry her instead. He meets with Valerie to ask her to drop the engagement but she insists that he will go ahead or else she will make his love letters public and expose him for breach of promise.

Richard isn’t prepared to deal with scandal and he is perceptive enough to realize that Valerie will not compromise or be bought off. He soon decides that murder is the only solution to his problem but having worked with Scotland Yard he is all too aware of how easily murderers can be discovered and does not wish to become another Dr. Crippen. He resolves that he will carry out the perfect crime and sets about not only working out a way to carry out the murder but also a plan to avoid leaving any forensic evidence that will lead back to himself.

Yes, we are in inverted territory and our killer’s motive is that he wants to free himself to pursue another woman. Fearn’s novel presents us with an interesting twist on that formula however because his killer has a relationship with the police. Richard, we learn, often works with Scotland Yard on their cases in a consulting capacity and is even a friend of the man who will investigate this case, Inspector Garth. He is able to use his knowledge of police procedure and that relationship with Garth and this adds a slightly different dimension that turns the second half of the novel into a sort of cat-and-mouse game between killer and detective as Richard uses his knowledge of the investigation to stay one step ahead.

This twist to the inverted formula works nicely and lends a touch of originality to a plot that otherwise might seem quite familiar. Indeed, when Richard declares “I’ve planned a perfect crime” (he really does say that to his victim) the reader may be forgiven for seeing what is particularly noteworthy about his efforts. Yes, there is an attention to detail and an awareness of the things that the Police might look for such as fingerprints or those incriminating letters but for much of the novel it is hard to see where the genius of this crime lies.

I do think that there are some effective ideas here, even if Fearn does keep some back until close to the end of the novel. There is one image or idea that I found to be particularly effective and unsettling, making the ending feel gritty and a little grotesque in the best possible way.

I was less impressed with the characterizations of both Richard and Garth, each of whom struck me as a little bland were it not for their relationship with each other. For instance, we are told that Richard is brilliant and yet the murder he plans feels grounded in practicalities. Similarly Garth is solid and diligent but while there is talk about his friendship with Richard complicating the case, he seems pretty solidly on the side of exposing the truth throughout the story.

So if this is not an interesting psychological exploration of a killer or an exploration of a particularly unusual or creative murder, where does the appeal lie? It is in seeing those two characters interacting with each other and in trying to predict how Garth will best Richard and expose the truth. Part of this requires us to understand exactly what Richard’s plan was but we also have to discern where the loose threads are and how he may have made matters worse in his bumbling attempts to cover his tracks.

This final phase of the novel is, in my opinion, its most effective. Our knowledge of the two characters’ actions helps to generate suspense as we understand how they are each feeling about different aspects of the case and are aware of the disconnect between what they are saying and what they are thinking.

The ending is powerful and I feel sure it will stick with me for some time to come but as much as it satisfied me I cannot overlook that I was underwhelmed by the description of the crime itself and the apparent simplicity of Richard’s plan. Fearn keeps back his richest and most distinctive material until his final few chapters which I think is a shame as without those elements the crime feels underwhelming.

Except for One Thing was originally published under the pseudonym Hugo Blayn.

The Vengeful Virgin by Gil Brewer

VengefulThe Vengeful Virgin is a pulp novel from the 1950s that on the face of it seems a little out of my reading comfort zone. The reason it jumped out at me though is that it is another example of my favorite subgenre, the inverted crime story and I came to it feeling somewhat optimistic based on my experiences with the other hard-boiled inverted stories I have reviewed recently.

The novel concerns a pair of lovers with an almost primal physical attraction to one another and their plot to kill the girl’s rich stepfather who is an invalid. The girl, eighteen year-old Shirley Angela, has been caring for him for three years and resents his demands. She knows that she is in line to receive a big inheritance from him but knows that with medical intervention he could live for ten years or longer.

When protagonist Jack Ruxton, a television installation engineer, first crosses paths with her she has already devised a crude plan to get rid of him. The two are instantly drawn to each other and she brings him in on the plan. He quickly expresses concern that her idea to have a television topple onto him would immediately be traced back to them and suggests his own plan…

Jack is far from a charming guy and is in some ways a little reminiscent of the male murderer in Roger Bax’s Disposing of Henry, another inverted story. This similarity extends right to the character’s casual description of Shirley as  someone who “…made you feel as if you wanted to rape her” and is attracted to her in part because of her youth. Their relationship is all kinds of problematic if the author’s intention is to titillate his reader as Jason John Horn notes in an essay he wrote about chauvinism and ableism in this novel. Be aware that essay does spoil some key plot developments!

I am on the fence about whether Brewer intends to appeal to that side of his readers here or not. If that was the aim I think he misses the mark in any case as those scenes, while frequent, do little to appeal to the reader’s senses. They do effectively establish the main character as a seedy, brutish man who uses the women in his life to fulfil his own desires whether physical or financial.

Shirley is cast as a mix of vixen and femme fatale. She certainly tempts Jack into committing a crime though he did not need much persuasion and she repeatedly expresses her desire for him. The characterization is not particularly complex and perhaps the one revelation that may have added a little punch is spoiled within the book, reducing the impact of a key moment within the novel’s conclusion.

Though Brewer’s characters feel a little flat, the plotting is a little more interesting. I was impressed with the idea that Jack comes up with for its relative simplicity and the scene in which the plan is carried out contains some wonderful moments of tension. Throughout the build up to that moment we are made aware of the danger they face and anticipate some of the things that might go wrong. These problems are foreshadowed very effectively and while I think it would be a stretch to say there are mystery elements here, the reader can try to work out how those elements will combine to cause their downfall.

While the reader will likely predict elements of the novel’s conclusion, I do think it contains some of the novel’s strongest imagery and dramatic moments. That sequence sums up the novel’s themes well and it feels like a logical and powerful resolution to the story.

Unfortunately the journey to that point underwhelms, particularly in the saggy middle of the tale where we wait for the pair to actually get on with committing their crime. Neither Jack nor Shirley are interesting or likeable enough to make their relationship compelling and there are no unexpected revelations or moments featuring them that may have made them more complex or interesting and might have helped to drive the story.

Though The Vengeful Virgin has some strong moments, not least its punchy ending, I think it never rises above its often flat, unpleasant characterizations and the slow pacing of the scenes in which the pair develop their plan. It is not badly written and it does have a few good ideas but the sometimes seedy tone (which, to be fair, is totally hinted at in its title) had little appeal for me.

The Department of Dead Ends by Roy Vickers edited by E. F. Bleiler

DepartBack when I first started getting interested in inverted mysteries I went and sought out suggestions of authors who wrote that kind of crime story. One of the names that kept coming up was Roy Vickers whose Department of Dead Ends stories often clearly established the killer’s identity in the first few paragraphs.

The collection I am writing about today contains a selection of fourteen of those stories – about a third of the total written. They are selected by E. F. Bleiler who, for reasons I cannot quite fathom, opts to arrange them out-of-order. The Rubber Trumpet explains the work and methodology of the Department and while the other stories stand on their own, I appreciated them all the more for reading that tale.

Vickers’ stories are not exactly formulaic but most stories adhere to a structure in which we learn the killer’s identity, see how they came to commit the crime and how they plan to cover it up. Many of the crimes occur in a moment of desperation or anger, often being strangulations, and in quite a few the cover-up will involve the assistance of another person within the case.

The investigation is usually just a couple of pages long and typically will hinge on the discovery of a strange detail, in a few cases completely disconnected with the crime itself. The detective is able to work from that strange element to assemble a chain of logical deductions that will eventually lead to some fact in the alibi being overturned or that will help the police make a key connection.

These stories were originally published in monthly mystery magazines, mostly Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, and I will say that they are probably best enjoyed in small doses rather than trying to read them all in one or two sittings. I haven’t read enough other Vickers stories to know if Bleiler’s selections favor a particular type of story but I think if you make the decision not to organize them by publication date then you should take care not to put similar stories next to each other.

In spite of that complaint I should say that the quality of the collection is generally strong and I think there are some excellent stories on offer here.  The Henpecked MurdererThe Rubber TrumpetLittle Things Like That and The Man Who Murdered in Public are all very strong stories and each are worth a look.

Continue reading “The Department of Dead Ends by Roy Vickers edited by E. F. Bleiler”

Windy City by Hugh Holton

WindyCityI was not familiar with Hugh Holton before picking up Windy City, the second in his series of novels to feature Detective Larry Cole of the Chicago police force. The book jumped out at me though for being told in an inverted style and I was curious to discover Holton’s take on the form.

The novel opens with a retired prostitute being followed by a man in disguise intent on raping and killing her. When he breaks into her home he is surprised by her cop fiancé and hastily acts to kill him and dispose of the body.

Within a few pages we know the killer’s identity: Neil DeWitt, one of the richest men in Chicago. We also learn that his wife Margo is fully aware of his proclivities and, when she makes a slip up in conversation with Police at a gala, we learn she has some of her own.

Unlike many inverted stories the detective does not need to search for the killer. Cole suspects the pair from the beginning of the novel but the challenge for the police and for the reader comes in proving the connection, particularly when the DeWitts hire a corrupt former governor of the state to represent them.

This proves to be an intriguing starting point because it enables Holton to focus on a small group of characters. We spend a lot of time in the novel following the DeWitts and seeing them plot and scheme to try and throw Cole off their trail and I do think we get to know them well as a result. The problem for me was that I found their characterizations very hard to accept as credible.

The two characters are given some back story and Holton does take the time to explore their motivations. Unfortunately the aspect of their story that is the least detailed is the early phase of their relationship as they begin to commit crimes and explore their sociopathic desires together. Given their status as a married pair of murderers makes them unusual, it is all the more disappointing to see this aspect of their relationship not treated with much depth or detail.

Instead Holton focuses on following their reactions to Cole’s investigation and attempts to throw him off the trail. This sort of a cat-and-mouse game has the potential to be interesting and there are a few points where I feel it is quite successful. One of those comes at the end of the second section of the novel where there is a big development in the case but unfortunately the next chapter takes the action to a lurid and melodramatic place undermining any good work the previous chapter had done.

Not only does Cole quickly identify the killers, he seems to quickly work out their plans and their likely next steps. The positive aspect of this is that it enables the book to sustain a surprisingly brisk pace but it may prove disappointing to those who want to see the police having to work hard to make those key connections.

Cole is not the most dynamic of protagonists although his family are appealing and sympathetic characters. He is shown to be persistent and hard-working however and I did appreciate that Holton uses his own Police background to flesh him and the other Police characters out.

That is not to say that this is an entirely realistic police procedural. That one of his team is nicknamed the Mistress of Disguise or High Priestess of Mayhem suggests at least a little eccentricity but the conflicts within departments and details of the cultivation of relationships with the coroner’s office feel more grounded in something approaching reality.

There are however some plot elements that struck me as too far-fetched to be taken as credible. This is not just a matter of the lucky breaks that Cole seems to get but also some of the risks that the couple willingly face when carrying out their tasks often leaving evidence pointing right at them. While being immensely wealthy could conceivably shield them from some accusations, their behavior is so inept and obviously suspicious at points it is hard to imagine how they wouldn’t have already come under deeper suspicion.

As much as I wanted to love this book I came away feeling frustrated and disappointed. I thought that the pair of killers had a lot of potential but the decision not to treat the story in a realistic way but rather as a thriller contributes to their story feeling somewhat ridiculous.

In spite of its faults however I would say that it was an engaging read. There were some good ideas here and while I think it gets the balance wrong, it is at least quite interesting.