As a fan of the late lamented Inspector Morse, I was apprehensive about watching Endeavour tonight. I'm never sure about prequels, and almost didn't watch this.

However within five minutes I was hooked. Morse arrives in Oxford to help with a murder enquiry, and has to rent himself a room. A landlady shows him into a typical 1950's shabby boarding house room, saying, "This was Mr Bleaney's room."

"Mr Bleaney" is one of my favourite poems by Philip Larkin.

The story then evolved, with crossword clues, poetry and classical music being an integral part of the solution. Morse, a non-drinker, is introduced to Guinness by Inspector Thursday and takes to it like a duck to water. A red Jaguar also appears briefly in the story.

At the end, as Morse drives away, he looks into the read-view mirror and in it we see John Thaw looking at him. Spooky!

I haven't given away any details of the murder in case any of you have taped it to watch later. But if you didn't see it and there is a repeat, I thoroughly recommend it.

Here's the poem: Mr Bleaney

“This was Mr Bleaney's room. He stayed

The whole time he was at the Bodies, till

They moved him.†Flowered curtains, thin and frayed,

Fall to within five inches of the sill,

Whose window shows a strip of building land,

Tussocky, littered. “Mr Bleaney took

My bit of garden properly in hand.â€

Bed, upright chair, sixty-watt bulb, no hook

Behind the door, no room for books or bags -

“I'll take it.†So it happens that I lie

Where Mr Bleaney lay, and stub my fags

On the same saucer-souvenir, and try

Stuffing my ears with cotton-wool, to drown

The jabbering set he egged her on to buy.

I know his habits - what time he came down,

His preference for sauce to gravy, why

He kept on plugging at the four aways -

Likewise their yearly frame: the Frinton folk

Who put him up for summer holidays,

And Christmas at his sister's house in Stoke.

But if he stood and watched the frigid wind

Tousling the clouds, lay on the fusty bed

Telling himself that this was home, and grinned,

And shivered, without shaking off the dread

That how we live measures our own nature,

And at his age having no more to show

Than one hired box should make him pretty sure

He warranted no better, I don't know.

Edited January 2, 201214 yr by moi

Well, that was depressing. I think I'll have to move, now.

Will need to look out for it. My wife and I tune in to a station out here that has shown some of the great Masterpiece Mysteries, and the great )but far too sort) Sherlock Holmes episodes.

Also, I gave not read Larkin since secondary school,but always liked him. Paints a great picture and is a little pessimistic, nut from what I remember I enjoyed him.

Thanks, Moi

the great but far too sort Sherlock Holmes episodes.

They only made a handful of those, right? Pity, they were very good.

Think there was about 4 in the first, and then they have just started a new one that seemingly only has 3