Purchase: The Siren of Salamanca and Other Stories

It is difficult to set a story in a culture or place that you have not intimately experienced or belonged to, it is either very brave or romantically stupid, and it risks becoming a form of literary colonization.

The first few mentions of 'siesta' in the title story were worrying; a short nap in the afternoon seems to be treated with the same reverence as a stage Scotsman's kilt. I would not have been surprised to find myself picking oranges, shaded by the brim of a sombrero. We are further confused, after talk of bull-rings and churritos, to find that the weather is “cold enough to freeze the hairs on a polar-bear's backside [sic]'. These early appearances of stereotypical cultural accessories are a lazy way to shape character and cement location, and are only made worse by a clunky writing style and unsystematic imagery. The character of Elena is cultured, beautiful and educated. Her husband is inattentive, money-grubbing and “one of those Spaniards [sic]”. Elena is so cultured, so educated, so beautiful that these qualities must be repeated at every available opportunity.  Her husband, Jose Antonio [sic], is a love-rat who comes to a sticky end. Everyone is cheating, conniving, vacuous, boring and poorly concieved.

Ray has an ability to create descriptions that are richer and more pleasing,

…early morning when Salamanca is fresh and pink as a newly peeled shrimp, to late evening when the light pours along the golden street like warm marmalade.

With solid, functional images such as this it is unclear why she feels the need to drop in a few Spanish words as flavour.

The sense of shock or horror that we could have had at the death of Jose Antonio is missing. There is a possibility of a hanging resolution, and we expect it - the dramatic irony comes from Elena being unaware of his death. However these possibilities are not used to best advantage because of underwriting, or editing and stylistic complaints.

There is a risk of this reviewer becoming something of a cultural chauvinist, and claiming that the Spanish Civil war belongs to only the Spanish, and so on. I do think that when writing about important aspects of another history, of another culture, there is an enhanced burden of accuracy and fairness. Perhaps this is a general burden, upon all writers to their writing. Certainly in The Siren of Salamanca there are many instances of description or setting, whether it be Dalkeith Road, Edinburgh, Central Station, Newcastle, or The Cathedral, Salamanca, that leave you feeling nothing in particular. The attempt at representation of each of these places is indistinct or shallow; Ray's disappearing tramp by the Tyne could have appeared in any city. Perhaps it is this shallowness, and not the automacy of cultural tropes that grates worst.

However this entire collection is not about Spain, other settings are used, the formula is similar in each: mystery or ghost thriller.

‘The Weight of Clouds’ unravels slowly and although only the second work in the volume, already a recognizable story. The narrator is the only of the characters you seem able to connect with, the others are semi-able stabilizers for the plot, a predictable plot at that. The story seemed to be rushed and bulked up with description of dilapidated buildings and the rotting of passing time.

To choose a few of the short stories to quickly illustrate the variation available in this volume, 'The Pin Man' is a extended piece with a variety of richer characters. Gina and Gwyneth are interesting little ideas, I am sure everyone one of us will have come across a petulant spoiled little Gina or Gwyneth in our lives. The development of the characters personalities and their lives, even their family history flowed flawlessly, well enough to wonder if details are brought out of biography, or a vaguely remembered Disney story, “like the Bodysnatchers, or something”. As a sinister ghost story it is rather too formulaic and unsettling only in it lack of solidity.

'The Green Lady' is similarly an attempt at a mysterious story, and also oddly immature. A mysterious occult woman who can turn naughty little boys into frogs. The sort of story you would spontaneously tell a child at night, holding a flashlight under your chin. Except you would probably phrase it better. The naughty little boys are rude and obnoxious; they are threatened with transformation into frogs,

…a mocking green wind. And in a damp scrabble of panicking protoplasm, they went with it.

And that is that. Listening child falls asleep, you open a bottle of wine. “Evocative” is the word used to describe 'The Siren of Salamanca and Other Stories', I worry that here 'evocative' is a euphemism for underdone.

LEAF BOOKS, 134PP., £9.99,
978-1-905599-43-1