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Post by franklinmarsh on Dec 20, 2007 12:52:25 GMT
The Mad Death - Nigel Slater. Granada 1983.
Now a Major BBC-1 Thriller
If you go down to the woods today... The Mad Death might be only a snarl away.
The age-old terror of rabies has finally broken through Britain's coastal defences and a grisly succession of agonising deaths is threatening to reach epidemic proportions. An emergency team of veterinary surgeons is called together to halt the disease, stop the deaths and exterminate the carriers. But the vets have an extra problem : they have to deal with a psychopath on the loose whose intent is even deadlier than the killer viruses.
When you go down to the woods, pray that The Mad Death is more than a snarl away...
To celebrate Justin's comprehensive When Animals Attack survey I thought I'd have a quick look at this - one of the Britain vs Rabies sub-genre. I'll try and scan the cover later.
Nig had written two novels before this, and travelled and worked extensively for the foreign office. You can tell he's posh 'cos early character Viv (first line - 'You little bastard.') is a bloke.
We kick off with pert, pouting pampered, Persian pussy Petit-Poi having a good old clean up at her chateau. A tatty tomcat moseys in and, despite her gender and social standing, Petit wades straight in to send the undesirable packing. She does, but sustains a nasty bite in the process.
Then we cut to Viv Tait, Member of the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons. His comment above is directed at a four-eyed swine in a pork pie hat who has been maltreating his Alsation bitch. Viv can't save the hapless pooch but makes sure the owner coughs up not only his fee but a £50 donation to the RSPCA. Viv studied at Cambridge (like the author), obtained a first class degree and was head-hunted by the Government for a Min of Ag committee on rabies. He delivered an excellent final report (almost all his own work and a remarkable achievement given his age). Viv's a bit of a rebel though. Long hair, faded jeans, Mexican bandit 'tache and various t-shirts (Gerbils Rule OK) put him on the middle-management hit-list- along with his refusal to say 'sir'. After the report, Tait is sentenced to mega boring work, so jacks it in to become what he always intended - a vet. His abrupt manner and casual indifference also seem to make him a hit with the ladies - or at least a local farmer's daughter. Bet the bastard's lucky at cards as well.
Twelve metre yacht Hirondelle glides into Keyford Marina containing Anglophile Monsieur Le Comte, his bra-less wife, insipid son and (ulp) Petit Poi. Known exporter of British booze and pal of the Harbourmaster, the Comte delays a customs inspection by buggering off to the club for a G&T with his family. A hatchway is left open and the French mog decides to explore Britain's coast. Things aren't quite right with the cat. She's terrified by a woodland stream, and gives a fallen branch a good kicking. She then encounters a young starving dog-fox and before you can say Basil Brush steams into him. Overcoming his surprise at the ready to ruck nature of the upper-class feline, Reynard eventually uses his superior weight and strength to turn the tables and give the pussy a good pounding. Despite his hunger he's a bit reluctant to dine. Bryant, twenty four and an up and coming salesman has hit the jackpot in Southampton. He's just landed his firm's biggest contract of the year and has got plastered to celebrate, dreaming of swapping his battered Escort for a Capri. Despite his whisky and beer diet, he drives around and gets another order placed, before noticing a rather mangy fox slumped at the side of the road. Not having seen one close up before, he decides to see if the little chap is OK. Whew! All that in 17 pages. I may have to put Bloodbath At The House Of Death to one side.
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Post by dem bones on Dec 20, 2007 18:20:00 GMT
I'm very wary of your reviews, Mr. Marsh. Time and again I've thought "this sounds great! I must hunt down a copy!" and, on the few occasions I've been successful they've been bloody diabolical. This sounds very similar to Jack Ramsey's The Rage (well, it does if you remove every character you've named and the mollycoddled flea-bag - it's a smuggled dog that contaminates everybody in that one) but miles better! Please keep us informed!
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Post by franklinmarsh on Jan 2, 2008 12:27:03 GMT
Struggling to find time to read at present, but the snippets I've snatched of The Mad Death show that it's a neat little thriller. Salesman Bryant takes pity on the fox and takes it home (receiving a lick on the hand) and stores it in his garage. Overnight the vulpine whimperer becomes a rabid maniac. Bryant manages to get rid of it but, smarting from a shedload of grief from his Mrs, seeks out a Southampton prostitute, whom he bites on the lip during the heighth of passion. Viv Tait gets appointed Rabies supremo for Hampshire when the authorities finally suss out there's a problem. He can't contain his bastardy though, and is upsetting everyone in sight.
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Post by franklinmarsh on Jan 9, 2008 12:51:16 GMT
Nearly finished! More of a thriller than horror, but a rattling good yarn. (Corpsie even started a thread on the TV adaptation back on the old board, which looks very different to this.) SPOILERS ahoy! Viv has assembled a crack team to help him contain the rabies out break in Hampshire - well once he's got rid of whiskey-sodden liability Hamish McCarthy. Penny 'Tuppence' Gaynor (doubly useful) who's not only efficient but finds Viv strangely attractive, despite his abrasive demeanour. General Samuels (ret.d) who provides the team with a base. The General's son-in-law Hooray Henry chinless wonder, pipe-smoking Mark Stanton (who's surely not a daft as he makes out). A press officer, Minister Daffy MAFF, and Doc Hugh Williamson (also at Cambridge.) Slowly but surely they keep the outbreak contained, although the strain on Viv is terrible. So many vested interests losing money, or being exposed as breaking rules, it's only a matter of time before he's nearly getting glassed in normally quiet boozer The White Hart, or receiving poison pen letters such as RESIGN. A weekend idyll with Tuppence gets him back on track to face an enemy as bad as rabies - someone who personally wants to see him fall - dubbed 'the joker' by the team. The joker's first outrage is to snip the chain locking up a tennis court used as a temporary holding pen for suspect stray dogs. A police cordon can't contain all of the hydrophobic hounds, and Viv faces a tense (if anti-climactic) showdown with a rabid alsation in a disused railway station, armed only with a Lee-Enfield. The joker next claims to have planted a sedated but injected with rabies moggy in Hyde Park - this provides the book with a ludicrous but highly entertaining set piece. An unexpected call received when Viv is unusually alone at the HQ has Tait high-tailing it to the recue of a curiously husky-voiced damsel in distress, only to get a lead pipe across his bonce for his trouble. He wakes up chained in a cellar. The joker places an open cage containing another drugged-up, soon-to-be rabid moggy on the floor, and tells Viv that the place is about to be torched, just to make sure. Will our hero survive? Top stuff from Mr Slater, with a number of unacceptable these days racial expressions, little giveaways that we're in the early 80s (a news bulletin mentions another test tube baby birth, and gives details of the miners latest pay demand.) Great!
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Post by dem bones on Jan 9, 2008 18:54:03 GMT
It sounds it, Franklin! I've just recycled my rotten write up of The Rage and the Slater book certainly looks the more action-packed of the two: for some reason, I kept thinking of Richard Lewis's Parasite while I was reading through your review, I'm not quite sure why. After a time these 'When Animals Attack' kind of blend into one another!
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Post by franklinmarsh on Jan 10, 2008 12:33:47 GMT
Too right. Rage and The Mad Death do sound awfully similar. Nigel Slater is a master of the anti-climax. Whether this was an attempt to be different or to echo 'real life', I don't know, but the end of the book was a massive let down. Good fun along the way. No gore or frothing rabid maniacs but some involving suspense and most of the book is just the right side of believable.
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Post by dem bones on Jan 11, 2008 0:40:45 GMT
Perhaps they took the 'this really could happen!' angle too seriously. I must admit, I like the look of Saliva but surely the 'must have' rabid read is Albert Herbert & Roger Myers' Killer Pack (Manor, 1976). When even Justin complains that a novel is "devoid of any redeemable qualities" it really must be a bit special.
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oatcakeredux
Crab On The Rampage
I STILL know where the yellow went.
Posts: 41
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Post by oatcakeredux on Sept 26, 2010 16:53:36 GMT
What, no love for Day Of The Mad Dogs by David Anne?
Don't ask how the rabid Rexes manage to see with all-white eyes as shown on the cover. Probably best not knowing.
This piece of crud was serialised by the Sun in 1978, which gives some idea of the calibre that we're dealing with here. Best remembered for a totally daft twist in literally the last page or so, wherein rabies somehow becomes airborne with no explanation whatsoever and oh God we're all going to die. Abysmal.
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