Review: ALIAS NORMAN CONQUEST by Berkeley Gray
Stiletto Blade
EDITION: Collins White Circle Thriller 1950
This is enormous fun.
But first, a little background. Edwy Searles Brooks was one of the most
prolific authors ever. As far as I know, only John Creasey beats him for
word count. Harry Blythe estimated an incredible 36,135,000 published words
for Brooks. My God, did the man ever sleep? He was responsible for
seventy-six Sexton Blake stories and for the Blake clone, Nelson Lee (the
latter evolved into one of the best school series ever, far more
entertaining than Billy Bunter). He penned stories for countless magazines,
including the Dixon Hawke series, and wrote more than sixty crime novels.
In 1918 he introduced us to arguably the best villain Blake or Lee ever
faced: Waldo the Wonder Man (Hawke encountered him too, though he was called
Marco the Miracle Man in that series). Over the ensuing fifteen years, until
UNION JACK magazine turned into DETECTIVE WEEKLY, Waldo evolved from villain
to part-time hero. By 1937, he had transformed into one of England's
desparado-style good guys, now called Norman Conquest.
Conquest made his first appearance in THE THRILLER magazine in January 1937.
His initial three-years' worth of stories were later gathered into novels,
the first of which was published in 1940. After THE THRILLER folded, Brooks
started raiding his back catalogue of Waldo versus Blake tales, rewriting
them for publication as Conquest novels. That saw him through the 1940s,
after which he began writing originals. The last one - the 51st book -
appeared in 1969.
ALIAS NORMAN CONQUEST, published in 1950 and the fifteenth novel, is a
reworking and extension of the 1933 UNION JACK Sexton Blake tale, THE HOUSE
OF LIGHT. In its new form, its origins are barely detectable. Forget Waldo,
this is very definitely Norman Conquest and there's no sign of Blake or
Tinker... well, maybe just a hint at the end.
Some enterprising Hollywood type really needs to get hold of the Conquest
franchise and turn it into a series of films. Imagine the carefree and
cavalier personality of the Saint mixed with the blindingly fast moves of
Jackie Chan and you might start to get close to the sheer cartoonish
charisma of this guy. Read the following scene and picture it in
Matrix-style slo-mo:
'Mr. Clarke blinked. All he actually saw was a blur.
"Nasty things to play with, these," said Conquest gently.
With a simultaneous movement, worthy of a trained acrobat, he hooked his
foot round the first man's ankle and yanked; as he did so he grabbed the
second man's gun arm. An effective move; for although the first man fired,
he had been put off his balance and the bullet crashed into the ceiling. In
that same split second Norman had gained possession of the second man's gun.
Mr. Clarke was still blinking.'
Lovely.
The tale is divided into two main acts (the first being the rewritten UNION
JACK story). It begins with Conquest working, under the name Andy Sinclair,
as a watch salesman in a big department store. It's a job he excels at but,
of course, he hasn't abandoned his true calling. It turns out that the store
will be displaying a fabulous jewel-encrusted throne in the near future...
and Conquest has his eye on those glittering rocks! However, in an
unexpected twist of fate, the unsuspecting store owner sends our desperado
off to sell a case of diamonds to an eccentric American millionaire who
lives in a gaudily decorated mansion out in the country. Norman is only too
happy to oblige. But it turns out that the man in question is a
squeaky-voiced gangster called Smiling Mike and pretty soon Conquest is up
to his neck in trouble.
Joy Everard, Conquest's girlfriend, comes to his rescue. This girl is a real
revelation; she kicks ass. In fact, as the tale progresses Norman and Joy
start to feel like an early prototype of Modesty Blaise and Willy Garvin. Of
course, the emphasis is still with the male half of the partnership in this
case but, nevertheless, Joy easily keeps up with Conquest and can operate
alone with efficiency and strength when necessary.
The two of them proceed to run rings around Smiling Mike, eventually
trapping him in his own vault while they make off with his boodle. The
gangster is caught by the police (led by Inspector 'Sweet' William) but his
sidekick, the sadistic Lew Chatterton escapes. We now discover that Lew was
the power behind the throne. The second act concerns Conquest's attempt to
flush this criminal out from hiding and teach him a lesson. He begins by
impersonating Chatterton and organising a job which, when it gets attributed
to the villain, should draw him into the open. Initially, there's no hint
that the Chatterton we're reading about is, in fact, our hero. The
disclosure, when it comes, gives the author the opportunity to address his
readers directly. He does this a few times during the course of the book,
always adopting an amusingly 'hip' tone:
'Of course he wasn't Lew Chatterton. He wasn't even Andy Sinclair... You're
dead right, brother - or sister, as the case may be... Norman Conquest
himself, and here we go again.
What's that? The whole thing's crazy? Not at all. This is where a spot of
explaining is necessary, so don't get flurried and come to all sorts of
wrong conclusions.'
This really reflects the upbeat nature of the Conquest stories; the
buccaneering spirit is absurdly overblown and the author joins with the
audience in his judgment of it... like we're all in on the joke together:
'There's some thick-ear stuff coming, customers, so hold on to your seats.
And if you don't approve of thick-ear stuff, this is not the kind of book
you should be reading.'
It's almost impossible not to smile when you get to passages like that. And
while it's true that it tends to undermine the tension (when Chatterton
kidnaps Joy there's never the slightest doubt that she'll be rescued,
unharmed and unaffected by the experience), there's compensation in the form
of sheer zest.
The conclusion to the tale comes quickly and easily. Norman has to find out
where Chatterton is holding Joy prisoner. He turns to Sweet William (with
whom he has a Saint/Mr Teal style relationship) and asks the policeman to
get him a bloodhound:
"For God's sake, Conquest, be serious. Do you think I'm Sexton Blake? Do you
think I've got Pedro on a leash..."
A man can't escape his roots... and here we have a four-legged plot device
that harks right back to Norman Conquest's point of origin. And much like
many of those old Blake tales, this one ends rather too rapidly, rather too
easily, and maybe even rather too inconsequentially.
Conquest is like Simon Templar exaggerated to the point where his apparent
invulnerability and over-confidence cancel out any prospect of nail biting
suspense. To use an old-fashioned word, this is a story you read for its
'gaiety' and sense of fun, not for its plot. Nevertheless, within those
limitations it hits the spot.
== Stiletto Blade ==
www.stilettoblade.com
www.sextonblake.co.uk
Dr Hermes
Thanks for this review. I've always wanted to know a bit about the
character, after reading a few tantalizing references in articles about
the era's 'gentleman rogues'. I've since read a good amount of the
Raffles and Bulldog Drummond stories (and most of the early Saint).
Richard Hannay, as well, although he was no outlaw.
Was the real name of 'Norman Conquest' ever hinted at? Considering the
character's complicated history, was he ever given a definitive origin?