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Telegraph
17 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
Horrible Histories creator Terry Deary: ‘What's the use of universities?'
One day, it dawned on Terry Deary that his favourite crime novels are overrun with characters who have heaps of money, or a degree, or both. ' Agatha Christie, Lord Peter Wimsey, the golden age of crime writing – it's pure Establishment,' he says. The same holds true for his contemporary standbys, Anthony Horowitz ('That man is a genius') and Simon Brett. By contrast, says Deary – who is better known as the brains behind the Horrible Histories series for children – in Actually, I'm a Murderer, his first adult crime novel, 'only about two out of 20 characters went to university'. This will come as no surprise to anyone familiar with Horrible Histories. Those books, 70-odd titles that have together sold some 30 million copies, have enlivened great tracts of the past for generations of children by relaying with irresistible delight the viscera of history and the experience of the common man. In them, monarchs and world leaders are usually depicted as monsters or figures of fun: the Romans are 'evil'; the Tudors, tyrants. Deary reserves a particular loathing for Elizabeth I, and he is not at all a fan of the British Empire. 'I get a lot of abuse for it,' he tells me; he's even been accused of 'poisoning the minds of children. But I can't believe anyone would possibly justify the British Empire.' Thirty-two years after the publication of the first Horrible Histories book, Deary says he's done with writing children's books. 'I've written hundreds of them. There's another mountain to climb now.' Actually, I'm a Murderer is the first instalment in what he hopes will develop into a long-running series (he's already written book two) featuring John Brown, an assassin-for-hire in 1970s Sunderland, where Deary grew up. The premise inverts the classic crime thriller setup: we know whodunnit from the beginning; the fun lies in the protracted game of cat and mouse between Brown and the police who, in the first book at least, Deary paints as incompetent, sexist and bigoted. 'Only the men,' he corrects me – the hero of the novel, Aline, is a policewoman fighting her repulsive, handsy colleague for promotion. 'Female police are underrated. When I published a murder mystery for young adults 20 years ago, the editor made me tone down the incompetence of the book's bent policeman,' he adds. 'I had to make the police look better and focus on solving the mystery. I don't think you would get that today.' In fact, Deary is quite a fan of the police, despite having been 'beaten blue' by them when he was a 'naughty nipper'; his dad ran a butcher's shop and Deary says his impoverished childhood 'in a postwar slum' taught him 'how real people lived'. I ask him what he thinks of the Metropolitan Police today, hit by a string of appalling scandals. 'Police are human beings. No one can live up to the expectations that are placed on the police.' Deary, who lives in County Durham with his wife, Jenny, with whom he has one grown-up daughter, was already a successful children's author when he was commissioned to do a history joke book in the early 1990s. He had begun writing in 1976 while working as a drama teacher in Suffolk. He maintains he didn't know much history at the time, although he studied it at A-Level. But then, his intention was never to educate. 'I didn't set out to enlighten their little minds or even get them to read,' he says. 'That just happened.' His main influence was his previous career as an actor: he had spent a few years in the early 1970s with Theatr Powys, in Wales. 'The aim of drama is to answer one question only – why do people behave the way they do? I applied that to my books. Look how they behaved in the past and learn from that.' Today, Horrible Histories is part of the cultural landscape – widely read in schools and embraced by the middle classes. 'Isn't that sickening?' says Deary. 'It's like Mick Jagger. He presents himself as anti-Establishment and then he accepts a knighthood. I hope I never sell out like that.' Fair enough, but the brand is already enormously lucrative – there are theatre, film and television adaptations, and even a Horrible Histories interactive cruise along the Thames, for which Deary writes the voiceover. Is he worried that the brand's original rebel spirit is becoming diluted? 'Horrible Histories is not my brand. I just write the books,' he says. 'And I take no credit for the spin-offs.' He rejects, too, the suggestion that Horrible Histories inculcate an inherently flippant attitude towards the past. 'You forget how boring history books for children were before I came along. Endless parents tell me their child never read a book until they picked up Horrible Histories. Although when people tell me that thanks to my books they studied history at university, I say 'Don't blame me, mate', because what use are universities?' Deary can come across as a bit of a throwback 1980s anarchist. He's famously against the education system, partly because he was caned repeatedly at his primary school. 'I'm against schooling. Not against education,' he clarifies. 'But you need to get rid of the muppets in Whitehall who write the curriculum which applies to every child in this country, when they wouldn't know a child from Newcastle or Sunderland if it thumped them on the kneecap.' He spits at whatever Labour might be planning to address this: it launched a review of the school curriculum at the end of last year. 'It's just tokenism, sorry. You need to get rid of it.' I assume, then, that he is not too concerned by the drop in students reading history at university? He himself never got the chance to go: his teachers suggested when he was 18 that he 'get a job down the pits'; instead, he worked at the electricity board. 'People don't have to waste taxpayers' money spending four years going to this place called university and not working when they can read my books [instead],' he says. I think he means it. 'But it's not my problem. I'm a book writer.' But surely, I suggest, the facts and intellectual rigour taught at university are important tools both for understanding the counter-imperialist view of history he favours and also for combating the growing threat of AI-generated misinformation? In lieu of an answer, Deary tells me how when people hear about a mother who lost her children in a bombing raid during the Second World War, they assume it took place in London or Coventry. 'But it took place in Dresden, too. Everyone comes up with a British-educated answer. But it happened to them as well as us.' I try again. What does Deary think about the ways in which we are rethinking our imperial past – the growing acknowledgment of the extent to which modern Britain was built on profits from the slave trade; the Rhodes Must Fall movement, which argues for the removal of the statue of Cecil Rhodes at Oriel College, Oxford? That, he says, is 'actually quite a good idea. Although they should be arguing to take all the statues down, including Lord bloody Nelson in Trafalgar Square. But it's a minority view. Imperialists are taking over the country.' Including, perhaps, in Sunderland – Deary left the city in the early 1970s, but maintains close links – where Reform won 27 per cent of the vote in the last election. Why does he think that happened? 'Because Farage is a big personality,' he says. 'People aren't voting for his policies, but for the man. So don't ask me to condemn my Sunderland friends.' Quite the opposite, I say. Isn't it only because such voters feel let down by the Establishment that they find themselves drawn to Reform in the first place? 'That, I admit, does sway people,' Deary says. 'They think the Conservatives have had their chance but they mucked it up, so we'll try Labour. Oh, they aren't doing so well, so we'll try a third option.' Deary is a tremendous force in publishing – and proud of it: he points out that the paperback edition of his recent nonfiction book A History of Britain in Ten Enemies topped the bestseller charts. 'Not bad for a lad from Sunderland, eh?' He has no plans to stop, nor any intention of toning things down. 'I'm an entertainer, not an academic. And if I don't entertain people, they won't engage.' Actually, I'm a Murderer by Terry Deary (Constable, £18.99) is out on June 12
Forbes
7 days ago
- Forbes
Istanbul's Foreign Literary History: 5 Must-See Spots For Literature Lovers
Exterior view of Pera Palace building which located in beyoglu, Istanbul, Turkey. Most travelers think of Paris or London when conjuring up visions of the golden age of the literary scene in Europe—but Istanbul has equally deep roots when it comes to being a safe-haven for writers and creatives from around the world. Major writers, including the likes of Ernest Hemingway and James Baldwin, have famously called Istanbul home, and the city is plenty with former literary hang-outs that every literary lover or aspiring writer should add to their itinerary. Here are five must-see spots for literature fiends in Istanbul: Pera Palace is most well-known for literature lovers as the hotel where Agatha Christie allegedly wrote Murder on the Orient Express. The hotel has still preserved room 411 as a memorial to the author. Authors Ernest Hemingway and Graham Greene also include the Pera Palace in The Snows of Kilimanjaro and Travels with My Aunt, respectively. French writer Pierre Loti first came to Istanbul in 1876 and called the city home—at least for part of the time—for over four decades. The writer frequently visited a cafe on what is now called Pierre Loti Hill, where he completed his novel Aziyadé. Now the hill is home to a cafe that overlooks the Golden Horn as well a a museum dedicated to the writer. James Baldwin lived in Istanbul for a decade, between 1961 and 1971, when he was suffering from writer's block and looking for seclusion. Baldwin, like many authors, took to the Pera Palace Hotel, but he also famously arrived in Istanbul and went straight to Taksim Square, where he was staying with Turkish actor Engin Cezzar. Ernest Hemingway worked as a correspondent for the Toronto Star in Istanbul in 1922. He took the train from Paris to Istanbul and allegedly stayed at the still-standing (and budget-friendly) Grand Hotel De Londres after someone recommended the property to him on the train from Paris. Ernest's Bar is a contemporary address just around the corner from Pera Palace Hotel—but it aims to evoke a sense of the golden age of travel and literature from the 1920s. Named after Ernest Hemingway, it boasts a bit of a speakeasy vibe with live jazz and Thai bites from sister restaurant Çok Çok Pera.
Irish Times
7 days ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Death Valley review: Timothy Spall effortlessly commands the screen but this BBC drama struggles
When did we decide we preferred our television detectives sunny-side up rather than served in the traditional hard-boiled fashion? At whatever point it happened, we nowadays live, beyond all hope of escape, in a cosy crime purgatory, where murder is a green light for jolly japes, and the only good cop is a whimsical one. Cosy crime isn't new. It extends back to Agatha Christie in the 1920s and even to Wilkie Collins in the 19th century. But goodness, is it having a moment now – whether manifesting as cosy crime in the sun (Death in Paradise), cosy crime marinated in the cheesy values of 1980s US television (Poker Face) or cosy crime in upper-west-side Manhattan (Only Murders in the Building). Alas, like a killer driven to ever more desperate extremes in the hope of attracting attention, the genre has lately arrived at the 'trying-too-hard' stage of its cycle, as evidenced by the distractingly offbeat Death Valley ( BBC One, Sunday) – a capricious caper that cannot make up its mind whether to celebrate the tropes of the milieu or poke fun at them. [ The Last of Us finale review: A nerve-shredding, bloody conclusion that leaves us wanting more, and soon Opens in new window ] The setting of small-town Wales is in the classic British tradition of dramedies taking place off the beaten track (see also: Shetland, Vera, Midsommar Murder or, in ancient times, Wicklow-set Ballykissangel). It stars veteran Timothy Spall as a reclusive actor once famous for playing a television detective (one gathers his character was a cross between Taggart and Bergerac). He's content in his solitude, with only his cat for the company – until a local bigwig seemingly shoots himself, and the police are called in. READ MORE Timothy Spall (left) plays John Chapel, with Gwyneth Keyworth as Janie Mallowan in Death Valley. Photograph: BBC/BBC Studios/Simon Ridgway Spall earned his reputation with gritty character parts in unsentimental State of the Nation films such as Secrets and Lies by Mike Leigh (who would go on to cast him as the painter JMW Turner in a 2014 biopic). However, it is whimsy all the way in Death Valley, where his character, John Chapel, quickly joins forces with local police officer Janie Mallowan (Gwyneth Keyworth). They're an odd pairing though you wonder how much of this is on purpose and how much has to do with the baffling decision to make Janie a devoted dispenser of gags. She's forever firing off pithy observations and commenting on life around her, whether or not anyone else has asked her to upend the contents of her brain all over their conversation. Her backstory contains its share of loss, and her outré personality is presumably a coping mechanism – unfortunately, Death Valley doesn't make any of this feel plausible. For instance, in an early scene where she and John meet in a coffee shop to compare notes, she explains that she's reading an online piece about 'washed-up celebs and what they look like today'. She reveals that John is mentioned. But when he inquires further, she says she's only joking. Well, that's going to bring him around to her side, isn't it? The actual mystery is solid. The dead businessman, Carwyn Rees, did not, in fact, take his own life. He was done in by people close to him amid murky dealings in his building development company and an illicit affair (or three) on the side. Here, Death Valley holds up – in so far as you can understand the motives of the perpetrators and the means by which the ghastly deed was carried out. That sets it apart from popular rivals such as Death in Paradise, where the big reveal about that week's murder invariably raises more questions than it answers. The problem is ultimately one of tone. Death Valley wants to be flighty as anything and also have the crunchy qualities of a solid sleuth fest. It is well-intentioned and thoughtfully plotted while Spall effortlessly commands the screen as a fading luvvy who just so happens to be a top-rank crime buster in real life. But some things simply don't go well together. Now we know that this category includes off-beam humour and dark deeds in small-town Wales. The six-part series is on BBC One on Sundays from 8.15pm
Engadget
25-05-2025
- Business
- Engadget
MasterClass deal: Get up to 40 percent off for Memorial Day
Memorial Day sales are in full swing, bringing discounts to headphones, vacuums, smart home gear and even some subscription services. One of the latter is on MasterClass memberships, which are up to 40 percent off for the holiday. From May 22 to 26, you can sign up for one year for as low was $72. Just make sure to subscribe before the end of Memorial Day itself to take advantage of the discount. When you take a MasterClass course, one of the world's top experts guides you through a series of videos on how to approach their craft. The Memorial Day deal drops the cost of a Standard subscription to $6 per month when billed annually, which comes out to $72 in total. That gives you access to more than 200 courses for a year, though you can only watch them on a device connected to the internet. It makes an excellent gift for someone you love — or for yourself. MasterClass is also discounting its higher tiers for Memorial Day. With a Plus subscription, you can watch MasterClass courses on two devices at once, and download them to watch offline whenever you want. A Premium subscription boosts the number of devices to six. The latter also includes access to MasterClass On Call, which lets you chat with AI recreations of MasterClass experts (Although, as our review notes, that feature still needs a bit of polishing.) After you've wowed your friends and family with your new grilling skills, MasterClass has plenty of other lessons that you can explore to continue your education. Creative writers can check out the BBC Maestro course that "resurrects" Agatha Christie, using her notes, an actress and AI rendering to teach the art of crafting a killer mystery. The platform also just launched a 20-episode series on healthy skin, featuring a panel of accredited dermatologists and cosmeticians. Follow @EngadgetDeals on X for the latest tech deals and buying advice .
Chicago Tribune
24-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
Biblioracle: Why I'm against ‘digital necromancy,' like the AI-driven Agatha Christie writing course
In 2012, hip hop star Tupac Shakur performed at the Coachella Valley Music and Arts festival on stage with Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre, even though Tupac had been killed in a drive-by shooting in 1996. The Tupac hologram was a little Hollywood special effects trickery that cost heavy sums, but now, thanks to generative artificial intelligence, we can resurrect just about any historical figure. Or can we? The most recent example to come across my radar is a BBC Maestro course featuring the woman who is considered the best-selling author of all time, Agatha Christie. BBC Maestro courses are essentially slickly produced, extended informational lectures combined with some exercises the viewer is meant to do along the way. They are not interactive, nor do they count for credit. They are, to my eye, purely for entertainment purposes. The maestros range across experts in singing, cooking, acting, decorating with flowers, and even sleeping. Still living writers who have done Maestro courses include Harlan Coben and Isabel Allende. But Agatha Christie is new because she is deader than one of the victims of her iconic mysteries, including 'Murder on the Orient Express' and 'Death on the Nile.' But there, on screen, in the preview video, is the voice and words (sort of) of Agatha Christie briefly expounding on the essential elements of a good mystery while she walks through a stately country house. This 'reanimated' Agatha Christie is being done with the permission of her estate, and consists of a script drawn from her writing, an AI that's mimicking her voice, and a layering of her face over that of a live actor. While the Christie estate and the avatar developers insist that they are working hard to be faithful to the original sentiments of the living person, AI ethicists object to this resurrection, pointing out that it is literally putting words in the mouth of someone who lived, and who cannot consent to this use. This is an example of what I have taken to calling 'digital necromancy,' and if you can't tell from my choice of term, I'm against it. There was a time where I would have brushed off the Agatha Christie example as mostly harmless, and on the scale of the application of generative AI in the service of digital necromancy, it's less egregious — especially considering its being done with permission from the people who have the rights to give permission — but I now see this and other examples as part of a bad movement that should be not just resisted, but rejected. Worse are the historical chatbots where people who lived and spoke and wrote are compiled into bespoke large language models and then let loose without consideration or care. Earlier this year, it was found that an Anne Frank chatbot could not and would not condemn the Nazis who killed her, much of her family and millions of others. This is likely because of Anne Frank's most famous passage from her 'Diary of a Young Girl,' 'In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart.' Defenders of this use of the technology say it helps students 'engage' with history, but what kind of engagement is this? It's not just pedagogically dubious, it's morally offensive. We have Anne Frank's words. We have scholars who have written about Frank, including 'The Many Lives of Anne Frank' by Ruth Franklin, which I reviewed here. If you want to know what someone thought, read them. If you want a writing teacher, find an interested, sufficiently expert human with whom you can interact. We are abundant, I promise. John Warner is the author of books including 'More Than Words: How to Think About Writing in the Age of AI.' You can find him at Book recommendations from the Biblioracle John Warner tells you what to read based on the last five books you've read. 1. 'American Midnight: The Great War, a Violent Peace, and Democracy's Forgotten Crisis' by Adam Hochschild 2. 'The Message' by Ta-Nehisi Coates 3. 'Fraud' by David Rakoff 4. 'The Unclaimed: Abandonment and Hope in the City of Angels' by Pamela J. Prickett and Stefan Timmermans 5. 'You Dreamed of Empires' by Álvaro EnrigueI think Scott is a good fit for the family drama (with a nice dash of comedy) from Luis Alberto Urrea, 'The House of Broken Angels.' 1. 'The Corrections' by Jonathan Franzen 2. 'This Is Water' by David Foster Wallace 3. 'The Goldfinch' by Donna Tartt 4. 'The Last Samurai' by Helen DeWitt 5. 'Long Division' by Kiese LaymonFor Bill, it feels like an occasion for some oddness and wit, which is excellently met by Charles Portis and 'Masters of Atlantis.' 1. 'Lessons in Chemistry' by Bonnie Garmus 2. 'Pride and Prejudice' by Jane Austen 3. 'The Housemaid' by Freida McFadden 4. 'Booth' by Karen Joy Fowler 5. 'Memorial Days' by Geraldine BrooksI have yet to find the reader who is not charmed by Rufi Thorpe's 'Margo's Got Money Troubles.' Get a reading from the Biblioracle Send a list of the last five books you've read and your hometown to biblioracle@
