The Singing Sands

Inspector Alan Grant is recovering from a nervous breakdown. He's on the night train to Scotland to visit his cousin's family, and he's on hand when the conductor discovers that another passenger has died in his compartment. This unexplained death turns out to be just what Grant needs to take his mind off his troubles and regain his mental health. Grant inadvertently took away the dead man's newspaper, and a scribbled rhyme sets him on a search for the singing sands.

The locations and the cast of characters are enjoyable. I especially liked Grant's cousin's young son, who seemed to be a middle-aged soul in a child's body. Reading this book was bittersweet because it was my last experience of reading a Tey novel for the first time. From show more now on, they will all be re-reads. show less

This is one of my favourite Alan Grant stories, and excellently read by Stephen Thorne. Grant is a very attractive character with his fascination with faces and his detached analysis of those around him - including his nearest and dearest. I particularly enjoy his inner arguments with himself in this tale.

The story opens with him on a night train to Scotland, suffering from a breakdown through overwork that has left him with claustrophobia. In a daze after a sleepless night he sees a notoriously despised porter known as "Yughourt" shaking a passenger to wake him, so that he can clear the train. The man is dead and Grant straightens his jacket from the mauling Yughourt has given him. Absent-mindedly he picks up a newspaper which has show more fallen to the floor,and later on finds some verse scribbled on it. The verse and the dead man's face become something of an obsession, and Grant tries to find the source of the verse:

The beasts that talk,
The streams that stand,
The stones that walk,
The singing sand
: :
: :
That guard the way
To Paradise

His hunt for answers takes Grant to Cladda in the Hebrides, to France, and an early return to his home in London. Along the way we meet his cousin Laura with whom he had a budding romance in their youth, her outspoken miniature rebel of a son, Patrick, a draggle-tailed revolutionary called Wee Archie, a young American pilot, and a world famous explorer, with a host of minor, though well-drawn, characters.

It is a mystery rather than a crime story, though there is a crime behind it all. It is about people - their characters and relationships - and about the beauty of Scotland. I have read and listened to it a number of times over the years, and still enjoy it every time. show less

Minor spoilers here but nothing about the mystery itself

I did not enjoy this book. It's not a typical mystery - the death occurs in the first few pages but it's not for a long time that it's thought of as in any way interesting or suspicious. And until you get to this point you get a very unconvincing story of a holiday in Scotland. That's full of hatred of Scotland and Scottish people - or at least highland ones, ones from Glasgow and god help you if you speak Gaelic. The anti-Scot thing is the biggest thing in the book but later on near the very end she gives us a paragraph where she mentions how horrible it'd be if the French had colonised India - no colour-bar and "so racially intermarried that it had lost its identity" - and says show more how all Americans "look like Red Indians even if they begun as Saxons". It's vile.

The first half of the book or so is concerned with Inspector Grant travelling to Scotland, staying with old friends, going fishing, and having panic attacks when he's in cars due to claustrophobia. I was genuinely surprised to see a plot point about panic attacks and it's described pretty well but at a certain point in the book he just gets magically cured. So ok. He meets a guy literally called "Wee Archie" who's some kind of Scottish nationalist and described as a "revolutionary" (in what sense is never explained). He's given as nasty a description as the author can manage. Apparently the fact he's from Glasgow and has a Glasgow accent is awful enough, but he apparently taught himself Gaelic and now goes around talking about... Scottish Gaelic culture and stuff? I dunno it's really not explained except the author wants us to know it's *really bad* for some reason. She mentions that he's bad at Gaelic but given her later treatment of Scottish Gaelic culture it seems more the problem that he speaks Gaelic at all.

The story moves along because he gets fascinated by some words written on a newspaper he accidentally stole from the dead guy's compartment. He makes tentative inquiries into them throughout the first half, decides they refer to an island in the Hebrides, goes there. And goes on and on about how stupid people are for talking about how beautiful they are, mocks the literature on them as people "romanticising primitiveness" or something and when he meets the people and they invite him to a ceilidh he mocks them some more. And the reverend or priest or whoever mocks the island people because they use a hall intended for making stuff for dances. Because they're idiots. And who should he meet but "Wee Archie". Who's giving a talk at the ceilidh. For some reason. But the author gets more digs in at him by having people leave while he's talking. Because they want to watch the ballet on TV. Which is presented as more mockery of the people. Oh and there's a load of insults aimed at the dancing style of people and of the way they sing. Oh and the cook at the hotel can't cook and he won't eat what she makes. For some reason all this heals his claustrophobia and although he seems to be enjoying (?) himself kinda by the end he still says he couldn't bear to be there another hour.

So he goes back to his friends' place. And fishes some more. And meets this guy who responded to an ad he put in the newspaper who came all the way to him from London based on Grant putting an ad containing the verses written by the dead guy in the ad. And apparently he's heard the verse before because the dead guy said it randomly a few months before and he remembered. Bit of a stroke of luck. Anyway this kicks off the "mystery" portion of the book, such as it is. It's impossible to solve anything before the ending, except to roll your eyes at the guy for not imagining murder for ages. He has multiple strokes of luck and the help of a certified genius in a remote Scottish town library. There's also a random plot where his friend tries to set him up with a noble lady but he's apparently totally unable to recognise a very obvious attempt to set them up together. And the author uses this to talk about how incredibly good aristocrats are and how class isn't a thing because the grandfather of Elizabeth I was Lord Mayor of London. And how it's terrible how aristocrats have to live in poor quality houses because of death duties and if her house was a prison the House would have condemned it as unfit for human habitation. It's nauseating.

The book moves towards its conclusion but there's not enough time for any real detecting. The ending is abysmal and a cop-out. The guy writes a letter confessing his crimes and kills himself. Because it'd have been hard to pin it on him and you certainly couldn't have got the facts of how it happened from detective work Even then it makes little sense the person who does find this mysterious place apparently found it with help from the dead guy but it's not made clear how on earth this is possible - there's mentions of a plane, which is presumably supposed to be him, but if he was in a plane there why did he need to go to someone to fund an expedition? Also surely he was in the UK at the time so he couldn't be flying a plane. But it's stated directly he helped out somehow so I have no idea. The method of murder is very simple mistaken identity stuff and from the *start of the book* I was thinking "obviously those identity papers are not his. really obviously" but apparently Grant couldn't work that one out. There are no proper clues throughout the whole thing so you just find out right at the end. And it's a pretty poor ending. Oh and it turns out that Wee Archie is working as a spy? or a foreign agent? or something It makes no sense at all. And the ending also has some weird kind o

Poor as a mystery, terrible as a general story. It seems to want to be 2 things at once and it's awful at both. A strange vehicle for her own hatred of Scottish Gaelic, Scottish nationalists and the Scottish in general - which is especially baffling because she was Scottish, and her own detective is Scottish! Her writing is generally good but in this book her grasp of characters is weak and nothing fits together to give any satisfaction. Big disappointment. show less

I thoroughly enjoyed the author’s style, there are moments of quirky humour, and I liked the characters. But as far as the detection goes, this story focuses more on Grant’s emotional well-being. This is the first and only book I’ve read of the author’s and one of a series featuring Detective Alan Grant. In a modern novel, some of his detection might be looked upon as lucky guesses, which he takes while meandering from place to place. The truer detection comes towards the end, so that for a long while I felt as if the story wasn’t going anywhere. This may be owing to the age of the book, and I can’t help feeling I might have enjoyed this more had I read them all. Nevertheless, enjoyable. I only took longer than average to show more read this because I took it on holiday. show less

Another excellent mystery from Tey. This time the investigation is more to do with solving a puzzle than a crime. By going on a visit to his cousin in Scotland, Alan Grant is trying to control or recover from severe claustrophobia brought on by overwork. When the train arrives, one of the passengers was found dead in his cabin. Grant absently picks up the dead man's newspaper where he finds a scribbled verse:

The beasts that talk,
The streams that stand,
The stones that walk,
The singing sands,
--
--
That guard the way to Paradise.

The words suggest places in the Hebrides and a fine way to take his mind off his problem. This fishing holiday was the part that I enjoyed most and I would have been content if Grant had remained there to contemplate show more the puzzle - with the help of an exceptional local librarian!

Excellent characters and setting, but the conclusion was less satisfying with the solution provided in a letter from the perpetrator. show less

The first half of this book is beautifully written. We get a lovely vision of Alan Grant on vacation, following up on a puzzling clue found next to a dead man -- a few lines of scribbled poetry -- and fishing in the highlands with friends and family. The description, characterization, and plot are engaging, albeit slowly paced. There's a very convincing rendition of someone with claustrophobia, so good which makes me wonder if Tey suffered from that herself.

But then something happens, the story becomes something else entirely and Grant follows dead end after dead end. Characters become wooden and the plot ever more unlikely and farfetched. The end is wrapped up untidily with a letter of confession. It's almost as though Tey didn't know show more what to do with the novel and just started throwing everything in but the kitchen sink. I did find Alan Grant's ruminations on vanity in criminals to be intriguing. I think he was referring to what we now all know is narcissism. In any case, Tey seems more conversant with mental and emotional health issues than other Golden Age authors.

Since the novel was published posthumously, it could be that someone else finished it. Or that she hadn't fully envisioned or revised it. In any case, the first half is worth reading; the second, not so much.

My version, published in 1975, doesn't include some of the more egregious racist statements cited by other reviewers.

POV: Omniscient.
Structure: linear show less

From my book group, via my TBR shelf. Due to her need for privacy, Tey is not an author (or book) with a heavy internet presence. This is the sixth, and last book in the Grant series.

There is a slight spoiler later in this review, so please bear in mind when reading further.

Having taken sick leave from Scotland Yard for his "nerves" (what would be called stress and anxiety disorder now), Grant travels to Scotland to visit his cousin Laura and her family, and get in some fishing. He is struggling with insomnia and claustrophobia, leading to panic attacks and a desperate need to get outside.

On his way off the train, the carriage porter tries to rouse one of the other passengers, only for Grant to point out he's dead. Doing his best to show more keep out of it - helped by an unsympathetic superior, the wide openness of the Scottish Lowlands, and the time and silence he needs to relax - it's weeks and some travelling around for Grant to get a handle on who the dead man is, and the significance of the poetry found in the train cabin.

Meanwhile a new visitor in the shape of Lady Zoe, peaks his interest, and he begins to wonder whether he should retire whilst he has the chance to "love and be loved". Grant is unable to leave the death be, especially after meeting the dead man's best friend Tad. He therefore returns to London and works through the issue via unofficial channels.

This is a very internally driven novel - there is a lot of soul searching and working through issues by Grant, with plenty of dialogue between himself and his subconscious.

The final denouement was a little disappointing in that Grant doesnt really identify the murderer - he has taken a dislike to a certain individual and has a suspicion, but nothing to prove it. The reveal comes late in the story after an announcement in the paper, and when the murderer has slipped out of his hands (and his vanity believes that he has died having committed the perfect murder). show less