A proper old fashioned adventure

I came across Lionel Davidson's The rose of Tibet in my local library. I'd never heard of Davidson before, so was surprised to discover that he'd been a well-reviewed writer in the 1960's. He'd won the Crime Writers' Association's Gold Dagger 3 times (only Ruth Rendell would match him), and he was also a consummate writer of the traditional yarn (think Rider Haggard crossed with John Buchan and Eric Ambler), though he was a far better writer than either of the first two. Graham Greene was a fan "I hadn't realised how much I had missed the genuine adventure story....until I read The rose of Tibet", so was Daphne du Maurier. More recently with the re-issue of his novels, Philip Pullman and Anthony Horowitz have also become fans. Indeed there's a fascinating preface by Anthony Horowitz to the latest edition of The rose of Tibet, a classic dating from 1962.

Tibet centres around art teacher, Charles Houston, who leads a pretty mundane life in less than swinging London. Houston's life will change dramatically when his beloved half-brother goes missing in Tibet along with a film crew. Tibet is difficult enough to access at the best of times, but it's 1950, the Chinese are about to invade, and Tibet is eaten up with superstition. Houston sets off to a remote monastery, Yamdring, where the last known sighting of his brother took place. Events will soon move out of Houston's control however, when owing to an unfortunate error he is mistaken for a reincarnation of a man whose life is bound up irrevocably with the destiny of the nation, and Houston is flung into a world of an alien religion before a desperate flight to safety.

There are some great characters in Rose of Tibet, and if a strong suspension of disbelief is occasionally necessary, it's well worth it for some great moments, not least the relationship between Houston and his charming guide, the Sherpa, Ringling. Perhaps inevitably for its period there are some areas around race and sex, that are of the era, but it generally holds up much better than many other adventure stories of the period.

Like J.G. Farrell, Davidson is one of those authors who is truly able to get a feel for place without actually going there, the smells, sights and sounds of Tibet ooze off the pages, along with the concerns and sometimes savagery of the period. Some ends fail to be tied up, and if the tale doesn't altogether coalesce into a great whole, it's still a ripping yarn which makes for compulsive reading. I must look out for more Lionel Davidson.