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Executive Times |
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2007 Book Reviews |
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Three
Bags Full: A Sheep Detective Story by Leonie Swann |
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Rating: |
** |
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(Mildly Recommended) |
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Click
on title or picture to buy from amazon.com |
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Baa An
author named Swann writing a novel in which sheep are detectives. How could I
resist? Leonie Swann’s debut novel, Three
Bags Full, is creative and imaginative. Miss Maple is the smartest sheep
of all, and she’s the one who leads the investigation into the murder of
their shepherd, George. Here’s an excerpt, from the beginning of Chapter 2,
pp. 16-19: Heather
Suspects Something Next
day the sheep woke up to a new world, a world without any shepherd or any
sheepdog. They hesitated for a long time before deciding to leave the barn.
At last they ventured out into the open air, led by Mopple the Whale, who was
hungry. It was a beautiful morning. Fairies had danced on the grass overnight
and left thousands of dewdrops behind. The sea looked as if it had been
licked clean, blue and clear and smooth, and there were a few woolly little
clouds in the sky. Legend said that these clouds were sheep who had simply
wandered over the cliff tops one day, special sheep who now went on grazing
in the sky and were never shorn. In any case, they were a good sign. A mood of tremendous high spirits came over the
sheep. They had spent a long time standing around yesterday, their sinews
aching with tension; today they gamboled over the meadow like March lambs,
galloping toward the steep cliffs, stopping just before the land dropped away
and then racing back to the hay barn. Soon they were all out of breath. That was when Mopple the Whale had the idea of the
vegetable garden. Behind the hay barn stood the shepherd’s caravan, a rickety
vehicle in which George Glenn once used to go around the countryside with
another flock of sheep. Recently he’d just kept a few odds and ends in it.
Behind the caravan George had laid out a little vegetable garden, growing
lettuces, peas, radishes, cress, tomatoes, endives, buttercups, and a few
chives. He had fenced it in. The vegetable garden was in
the meadow, but the sheep weren’t allowed into it. This ban was hard on them,
especially as the fence in itself presented no real problem. But George’s
watchfulness had kept them from harvesting the produce of this vegetable
paradise in their own sheepy way. Now George was gone. Lane pushed back the
bolt with her muzzle, Maude started grazing the buttercups, Cloud set to work
on the peas and Heather on the tomatoes. After a few minutes there was
nothing left of the neatly planted beds. Gradually all fell silent. The sheep looked at one
another, feeling ashamed. One by one they trotted back to the meadow Othello,
the only one who hadn’t taken part in their raid, was standing by the gate.
He signaled to Miss Maple, who followed him to the back of the caravan, where
the spade that George used for working in the vegetable garden usually
leaned. Today, however, there was nothing to be seen but the whitewashed side
of the caravan and a few flies basking in the sun. Othello looked inquiringly
at Miss Maple. Miss Maple looked thoughtfully back. The sheep spent the rest of the morning feeling
remorseful. Mopple had eaten so many slugs along with the lettuce that he
didn’t feel well. One of the lambs had a sharp piece of wood stuck in one
hoof and was limping. They thought about George. “He’d
have been very cross,” said Ritchfield. “He could have made that hoof better,” said Cloud. “He used to read us stories,” said Cordelia. That was true. George had spent a lot of time in
the meadow He would turn up early in the morning when they were still deep in
their sheepy slumber, huddled close together. Tess, herself still drowsy at
that hour, had to drive them apart. George would laugh. “You lazy creatures!”
he would say. “Come on, get down to work!”They felt slightly injured every
morning. They grazed while George worked in the vegetable garden or did a few
repairs. Their sense of injury would wear off by the
afternoon. Then they gathered in front of the steps of the caravan, and
George read to them. Sometimes from a fairy tale which told them how dew
falls on the meadows; sometimes from a book about the diseases of sheep,
which scared them; once from a detective story, which they didn’t understand.
George probably didn’t understand it either, because he threw the book away
when he was halfway through it, and they never did find out who the murderer
was. But
mostly old George Glenn read love stories, slim volumes printed on grayish
paper in which the heroines were all called Pamela and had red hair “like a
sunset in the When
George revealed details of his home life, the sheep listened in astonishment.
She had been the most beautiful woman in the village, his own personal
Pamela, and at first he could hardly believe his luck. But as soon as they
were married Pamela (whose real name was Kate) started baking juicy apple
pies and got fat. George stayed thin and his manner became increasingly dry.
He had dreamed of traveling all over “Now we’ll never go to “We’ll never even go to the other pasture again,”
said Heather. “Today would have been the day for our tablets.”
Only Lane was sorry George wasn’t here to force their weekly calcium tablets
into their mouths. She loved the taste. The other sheep shuddered. Mopple felt emotional. “We shouldn’t forget him,”
he said. “And we shouldn’t have eaten those vegetables.” “Why not?” Zora said casually, staring in the
direction of the sea. Mopple chewed his last lettuce leaf vigorously. When
Zora said something that sounded casual, he was always struck as if by
lightning. “How
are you going to put it right?” asked Cloud. They decided to devote a small section of their
meadow to George’s memory Not in the vegetable garden, which was past praying
for anyway At the foot of the hill, however, they found a patch where many of
their favorite herbs grew, and they decided that no sheep was to graze there
anymore. They called it “George’s Place:’ Suddenly they felt relieved. Readers
who are willing to give a debut novel a chance, and who are open to the
imaginative creativity of a new author, are likely to enjoy reading Three
Bags Full. Steve
Hopkins, September 25, 2007 |
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Go to Executive Times Archives |
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The recommendation rating for
this book appeared in the October 2007 issue of Executive Times URL for this review: http://www.hopkinsandcompany.com/Books/Three Bags Full.htm For Reprint Permission,
Contact: Hopkins & Company, LLC • E-mail: books@hopkinsandcompany.com |
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