Showing posts with label crime. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crime. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 14, 2022

A Pin To See the Peepshow by F. Tennyson Jesse

In the history of the world it is only we -- we who are young now -- who are really going to know about life. 

I bought this Virago Modern Classic more than five years ago, after Simon and Rachel discussed it in the wonderful podcast Tea or Books? I was going to say "I can't believe I've waited so long to read this" but who am I kidding? I have more than 150 unread books and the pile never seems to grow any smaller. But I recently joined a Goodreads book group that discusses middlebrow books and it was their June pick! (The group has also caused me to buy more books, so I don't know if it's really a win. I'm really enjoying the books though).

It took me awhile to get started, but I zoomed through this book in only three days -- pretty good since it's just over 400 pages. It's one of several books inspired by the Thompson/Bywaters murder trial in the 1920s. I knew nothing about the case other than what I'd heard on the podcast several years ago, and I remembered none of it -- I couldn't even recall who the murder victim was though I had my suspicions. 

I really liked this book but I was surprised at how long it took to get to the actual crime, more than 300 pages. It's really a character study of a young lower-class woman growing up in the Edwardian/WWI period. The protagonist is renamed Julia Almond and the story begins when she's off to school, aged about 16. As one of the upper-level pupils, she's tasked one day with briefly overseeing some younger students, one of whom has a tiny peepshow, a sort of mini-diorama you peer into through a tiny hole. This peepshow acts as a metaphor for Julia's life -- over the next ten years she's observing what she wants and will never have, due to circumstances beyond her control.

I think this is the original dustjacket.
Nice illustration but it doesn't even give a hint about the story.


Julia soon leaves school and studies fashion drawing and French, which leads her to a minor job at a fashion house in London. She's a quick study is working her way up in the business when the Great War begins. People are spending money like there's no tomorrow (and for some, there won't be) and she makes fashionable friends and hopes for a better, more exciting life. 

However, her father dies suddenly leaving Julia and her mother without enough to live on, and they are forced to combine households with her uncle and his family, including a younger cousin Elsa. It's tight quarters and they're obliged to share a room, which overwhelms Julia, and she makes the rash decision to marry an older friend of her father's, Herbert Starling, just to get out of the house. Having had a taste of independence, Julia isn't satisfied as the compliant little wife by the hearth that Herbert has envisioned, and the marriage is doomed from the start. Julia isn't a particularly likable character, but I absolutely sympathized with her frustration and lack of choices for women in the time period, particularly middle-class women who were judged by a much higher standard than lower or upper-class women of that era.  A Pin To See the Peepshow was published in 1934, about twelve years after the murder, and I wonder if it was quite shocking for its time as it covers some topics that are still pretty divisive today.

This book is very character-driven and Jesse takes a long time on developing Julia. Most of the other characters are also well drawn. The murder portion of the book is really only the last 100 pages or so and did feel a bit rushed in parts. The author does spend a good bit of time on Julia's thoughts during and after her trial, and thankfully leaves out a scene at the end which is probably best left to the imagination. My Virago edition also includes an excellent epilogue by the writer who adapted it as a 1973 mini series. (There's also a new British Library Women Writers edition which includes an introduction by Simon!) I was hoping someone had uploaded it to YouTube or other streaming service but I haven't been able to find it. It starred Francesca Annis who I can perfectly imagine as Julia. 

This is book #7 for the TBR Pile Challenge.

Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Gaudy Night by Dorothy L. Sayers: More Harriet Vane, Less Lord Peter Wimsey


Once again, I have waited until the bitter end to post my final book for my very own challenge. You would have thought that a Classic Crime Novel would be an easy and fun book to read, most likely one of the first books crossed off the list. I thought so too. 

Originally, my plan was to read one of several British Library Crime Classics I have unread on my shelves, but I'm sorry to say I've read two so far (in 2017, so I couldn't count them for this year's challenge) and in both cases I was underwhelmed. I started two others this year and abandoned both of them. I also thought about counting The Mystery of Edwin Drood or Whisky Galore, but neither really felt as though they fit the category -- Drood is unfinished, so it's not exactly clear if a crime was committed; and Whisky Galore is really more of a gentle comedy -- OK, they're stealing whisky, but it wasn't exactly the crime caper of the year. I also read Four Days' Wonder by A. A. Milne, which starts out with the discovery of a dead body, but that was really more of a screwball comedy. 

With less than a week left in my own challenge, and potential embarrassment looming, I gave up choosing from my own shelves and downloaded Dorothy Sayers' classic Gaudy Night from the library's online library. Published in 1935, it's considered by many to be Sayers' best novel. It's the twelfth in the Lord Peter Wimsey series and the third to include Harriet Vane, who is actually the main character in the story (Lord Peter doesn't even actually show up in person until the second half of the book). 

So. Harriet Vane, an alumnus of Shrewsbury College (a fictional women's college which is meant to be part of Oxford), receives an invitation to a reunion known as a Gaudy. On a whim, she accepts and after arrival, receives a nasty anonymous note stuck in the sleeve of her gown (back in the day all the students and instructors wore the black caps and gowns now traditionally worn only for graduation ceremonies). Having received poison pen letters in the past, she dismisses it and returns home. However, it turns out that someone at Shrewsbury is up to some mischief -- more notes and harassing letters are discovered, plus threats and destruction of property. The Dean of Shrewsbury is loath to contact the police, for fear of scandal, but she asks Harriet to return and quietly solve the mystery. Harriet begins to suspect various instructors, students, and staff members before enlisting the help of Lord Peter to find the culprit. 


Normally I do try to read series books in order, but I'd heard this was Sayers' best novel and I really wanted to read more about Harriet Vane. (I know many people love Peter Wimsey but he's not my favorite detective of all time.) It was a good choice, though, because I really liked this novel. It's the fourth of the series that I've read so far, and the second with Harriet Vane. My previous Sayers read was Strong Poison, which introduces Harriet Vane as a murder suspect on trial for her life. Naturally Peter saves the day and falls in love with her. Harriet's character is hardly developed in that story, and I'd actually find it rather annoying that Peter was so smitten without even knowing her. In this one, she takes center stage, and there's a lot more about women's education and the role of women, both in and out of academia. We learn a lot more about the attitudes of both men and women towards the rights of women, which I'm sure Sayers experienced first-hand when she was an Oxford student about the same time as her fictional counterpart. (We also get some insights about being a successful author which I particularly enjoyed). 

The reader does get more information about Peter and Harriet's relationship, which I admit was one of my favorite parts of the book. I did find the book a bit dense in parts when the academic characters are discussing philosophical points that I found a bit dry and obscure, and I had a bit of trouble keeping some of the characters straight, especially the other academic instructors who mostly seemed to run together. I particularly enjoyed Lord Peter's nephew Gerald who was quite delightful. It was a fun light read for the holidays, and I do want to continue with the series, though I'm not sure if I need to go back and read the rest in order or I can just skip around (I've heard Busman's Honeymoon is another of Sayers' best novels). Bloggers, what do you think? Read in order or skip around?

I'm counting this as my Classic Crime Novel for the Back to the Classics Challenge

Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Orient Express by Graham Greene: More Murders But Fewer Mustaches Than Agatha Christie


Over the past weekend we took a mini-break to Paris, which is in theory only three hours away by high-speed train. Unfortunately a technical problem cause our train to stop a mere 10 kilometers away from the station. After much radioing and banging and conductors walking back and forth, a backup train had to come out and literally drag our train into the station, causing our arrival to delay by nearly four hours -- at three a.m. instead of the more reasonable 11 p.m. !! Seriously, I probably could have walked to the station in the time it took. Not fun.

It was especially ironic since my choice of reading material for the trip was Graham Greene's novella Orient Express. I'd chosen it because I thought it would be fun to read a book set on a train while actually riding a train. Not so funny at the time, however. Ultimately, we did have a good trip and I did enjoy the book. (I'll post photos from the mini-break later this week).

Set between the wars, Orient Express is of course about a group of disparate characters who get to know one another while on the three-day journey from Ostend, Belgium to Istanbul; ultimately, the trip changes the lives of all of them, for good and for bad. The major characters include Coral Musker, an English chorus girl; Carleton Myatt, a wealthy Jewish businessman; Dr. Richard John, a British doctor with a mysterious past; an aggressive journalist named Mabel Warren with her companion Janet Pardoe; and a German robber named Josef Grundlich.

Greene does an excellent job of showing just how a small incident can connect these people and how this will change the direction of their entire lives. Coral, the chorus girl, falls ill and Myatt gallantly offers her his first-class sleeper cabin, and he asks Dr. John to assist her. The journalist Mabel Warren had come to see Janet off for a holiday, but recognizes Dr. John, and boards the train at the last minute, hoping for a scoop that will become the story of a lifetime. Greene weaves all the characters together with a plot that doesn't seem at all contrived or forced, and the writing is really wonderful. He's really good at describing scenes and character's inner thoughts without the writing getting too flowery.


I also found it very interesting that Greene tackled anti-Semitism in a time when it was so prevalent. He also touches on Communism, revolution, and is pretty open about a lesbian relationship between Mabel Warren and Janet Pardoe, which I found surprising considering it was published in the 1930s. Of course the book shifts the focus between the characters, but I much preferred the relationships between the people over the a subplot about political drama, but then political thrillers have never really been my genre. Also, I wish it had been longer, as it got even more interesting at the end and I would have liked to learn more about what happened to everyone.

I'd always wanted to read this because I love Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express, my favorite mystery of all time. If you are interested in this book because the title is nearly the same as Christie's, you may be disappointed. Both books are written and set in the 1930s, and both take place on the Orient Express with disparate characters thrown together -- that's to be expected in a story set on a train -- but that's the end of the similarity. There are two murders, but they both take place off the train, and there's no mystery about them, and certainly no detective like Hercule Poirot. This could even go so far as to be called a crime classic (I did think briefly about using this for the crime classic category in the Back to the Classics Challenge, but I still want to use one of my British Library Crime Classics for that one). Also, Greene's novel begins in Ostend, Belgium, and travels east to Istanbul; Christie's novel starts in Istanbul and travels to Calais, France. Greene's novel was originally titled Stamboul Train and there is a very interesting explanation about the similar names here.

I'm counting this as my Classic Journey Narrative for the Back to the Classics Challenge.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Jane Austen and Crime by Susannah Fullerton



"Crime became a part of her plots, crime revealed character, crime emphasized duty and responsibility, and crime even united some of the heroines with the heroes."

For five of the past six years, I have been lucky enough to attend the Annual General Meeting of the Jane Austen Society of North America (also known as the JASNA AGM). Every year, hundreds of Jane Austen fans gather in a large hotel and discuss all things Jane Austen, from academic analyses to pop culture phenomena. There are costumes, dancing, lectures, discussions, and it's great fun if you're a literature geek like myself.  

Every year, I buy at least one book from one of the vendors that provide the retail therapy at the convention, usually from the wonderful Jane Austen Books -- if a book exists with any connection to Jane Austen, they probably sell it.  At my very first AGM, in 2009, I purchased Jane Austen and Crime by Susannah Fullerton, which examines how crime relates to Jane Austen's fiction and how it would have affected her personally during her lifetime. True crime and Jane Austen -- what is not to like?

Jane Austen lived from 1775 to 1817, during the Georgian and Regency periods.  Life was pretty brutal back then -- if caught, criminals could get the death penalty for offenses as minor as setting straw on fire or cutting down a tree.  Austen's own aunt was arrested for supposedly shoplifting some lace, and spent months in jail before she was finally acquitted, and Austen herself actually visited her aunt in jail.  Austen's own works are full of crimes, though some are not immediately obvious to the reader.  In this book, Fullerton examines actual crimes of the period and how they relate to the novels.    As a fan of history, Jane Austen, and crime writing, this was a literary triple threat. The book includes sections about crimes against life; crimes against property; crimes of passion (including adultery and elopement); social crimes (like dueling, smuggling, gaming, and poaching); gothic crime (regarding the gothic novels so fascinating to readers of the time period, including Jane Austen herself); and punishment and the law.

This book isn't long, but it did take a while to finish. Sometimes I find that history books are just packed so full of facts that I can only read so much at a time. This book has only 218 pages of text, but it took me about ten days to finish it (and of course I'm also juggling other reads as well).  I did learn lots of interesting facts, including the following:
  • Nearly every book by Jane Austen includes adultery, illegitimate children, fallen women, or an elopement. In Pride and Prejudice, Mr. Bennet could have sued George Wickham for damages because he'd ruined Lydia's reputation, but ironically, Lydia herself could not.
  • Emma's Harriet Smith commits a crime when she is accosted by gypsies and pleads with them to leave her alone. Theoretically, merely speaking to a gypsy was a hanging offense.  
  • The laws regarding the shooting of game during the time period were horribly skewed to the wealthy and privileged. Essentially, if you didn't own enough property, you couldn't kill a pheasant, but you could sit on a jury and sentence a person to hang for killing a pheasant.
  • Owning a hunting or sporting dog was also reserved for the privileged few who were allowed to hunt.  So, if I had lived in Regency times, it would have been illegal for me to own my Golden Retriever (except they didn't exist back then). Theoretically, I would not have been allowed to own this couch potato:
An extreme close-up of my dog Lucy. On the couch. 
  • Jane Austen's early works are full of murders and crimes. I've read all of her novels multiple times, but I've never read the juvenilia.  I suppose now I need to put this on my birthday wish list:

I'm always looking for a good reason to buy another Penguin Clothbound Classic.

So that's one more book crossed off my TBR Pile Challenge list!  I'm halfway finished and it's only April, so I should have no trouble finishing the list by the end of the year.  How's everyone else doing with the TBR Pile Challenge?  And which other nonfiction books about Jane Austen or the Regency period do you recommend?  

Monday, March 16, 2015

Aurora Floyd by Mary Elizabeth Braddon


So -- just back from vacation, where I did actually have time to get some reading done, what with long flights, layovers, and jet lag.  I can hardly go on a vacation without a big fat Victorian novel, and this time I read Aurora Floyd by Mary Elizabeth Braddon, the queen of the Victorian sensation novel.

Set in the 1850s, this is the story of the Aurora Floyd, who is young, spoiled, and rich.  Her father is a wealthy banker who fell in love late in life with -- gasp! -- a beautiful actress from a poor family.  Knowing a good thing when she saw it, Eliza Prodder married rich Archibald Floyd, nearly 20 years her senior.  However, they seemed genuinely happy despite all the sneering from the rich neighbors, but sadly, Eliza died in childbirth after just a year of marriage, leaving behind the eponymous Aurora Floyd and her doting but bereaved father.

Fast-forward seventeen years -- Aurora is beautiful, spoiled and used to getting her own way.  After some naughty behavior, she's shipped off to school in France.  She returns home to Kent after a year, looking poorly.  There are hints of some secrets -- is she being secretly blackmailed?  However, Aurora perks up eventually and is joined by her sweet cousin Lucy as a companion during the Season of balls during which all young ladies are essentially on the marriage market.  Two potential suitors stand out -- Talbot Bulstrode, the proud heir of a long line of aristocrats who is short in cash; and John Mellish, a blustering but lovable Yorkshire squire.  Both fall in love with Aurora, and at first it seems like Bulstrode is the lucky winner, though Lucy is secretly in love with him and pining away.



However, there's trouble in paradise.  A few months after their engagement, Talbot learns from a cousin that Aurora ran away from school and was MIA.  Suspicious, he confronts her, but she refuses to reveal her secret, and he breaks off the engagement.  Eventually, she marries Mellish, who promises never to ask her secrets and love her and trust her no matter what.  Of course, this promise comes back to haunt him when a handsome groom named James Conyers comes to work for her husband.  His appearance throws everything into turmoil, and that's when the book really gets rolling.

This book had a lot of great elements to it -- a strong heroine with flashing dark eyes, two men competing for her hand in marriage, blackmail, scandal, gossip, a detective -- it's a classic Victorian sensation novel.  A couple of years ago, I read Lady Audley's Secret by the same author, and loved it.  It's the second book I've read by Mary Elizabeth Braddon.  Aurora Floyd has a lot of the same themes, but I felt liked it dragged a little in comparison.  There's an omniscient narrator that editorializes a bit too much for my taste.  I did find some of the plot points pretty obvious, and the author definitely depends on the deus ex machina as a too-convenient plot savior more than once.  Overall, though, I'm accepting this book as a product of its time -- Mary Elizabeth Braddon was pretty groundbreaking as a Victorian author, not just as a woman author.  She wrote more than 80 novels, which is impressive for any author, during any time period.  Most of them are out of print but a lot of them are available for free on Gutenberg.org.

I'm counting this as my Classic by a Woman Author for The Back to the Classics Challenge, and this also counts for the Reading England Challenge.

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

The Leavenworth Case by Anna Katherine Green


This is my final book for the Back to the Classics Challenge!  I can't believe I took so long to finish it.  I  think I took so long to get to this category (mystery/suspense/thriller) because I had a hard time deciding which book to read.  The only book I own that qualifies is The Mystery of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens.  I kept putting it off (I've gone off Dickens somewhat this year in favor of Trollope) but I finally got an audio copy from the library, and I just couldn't get into it.  (I'm not sure if it was the reader, or if it's because the main character kept referring to the girl he loves as Pussy.)

Instead, I decided to look for another author.  I thought about Agatha Christie, but I honestly think I've read every single one of her mysteries, except for the Tommy and Tuppence stories.  I was searching online for other classic mysteries and I discovered The Leavenworth Case by Anna Katherine Green, an early mystery published in 1878, a full nine years before Sherlock Holmes, and by a woman!  Naturally, I was intrigued.

Here's the setup:  Mr. Raymond (we never learn his first name), is the junior partner of a New York law firm.  One day, he is alone in the office, when a very agitated young man informs him that Mr. Leavenworth, a longtime client of the firm, has been found shot and killed in the library of his home.  In the absence of the other partners, Mr. Raymond agrees to go to the home and do whatever he can to help, and is therefore drawn into the mystery.  The body was found in a room locked from the outside, and a servant girl is missing.  Suspicion immediately falls upon Mr. Leavenworth's two beautiful nieces, cousins whom he adopted when their parents died years ago. Mary, the younger of the two, was Mr. Leavenworth's intended heir, but Mr. Raymond is immediately smitten with the other niece, Eleanor.

However, the evidence is rather bad for the two cousins.  There are scraps of burned paper found in the grate, a missing key, and most damning, the fact that Eleanor knew how to fire the very same pistol used to shoot her uncle.  Mr. Raymond is so convinced of the ladies' innocence that he begins working with Mr. Ebeneezer Gryce, a private detective, to get to the truth of the matter.

I was really hoping that this would be an amazing discovery for me, a brilliant book that nobody reads anymore.  But sadly, it was a really slow read for a mystery.  It's rather wordy and melodramatic, almost a cross between a mystery and a Victorian sensation novel.  There's not a lot of motivation or character development.  For example, it seems that Mr. Leavenworth chose Mary heir to his fortune when she was a child, simply because she was a blonde!  And Raymond mentions over and over that the two cousins are beautiful and charming, but that's pretty much it for their descriptions.  Most of the characters are fairly flat.  The most interesting characters were Mr. Gryce and his assistant, the mysterious "Q" who is a master of disguise.

However, I'm probably judging it too harshly by modern standards.  For its time, it was most likely groundbreaking.  It was very popular and Anna Katherine Green wrote a total of more than 40 books, including eight other books about Mr. Gryce.  She was one of the first to write a series of novels about a detective, and also wrote about female detectives.  It's not among the best detective stories I've ever read, but I think it's worth reading simply for its historical value.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Arsene Lupin, Gentleman Thief by Maurice Leblanc


What is it about mysteries that makes them such perfect summertime reading?  I was looking for a fun, quick read for the holiday weekend, and I put Arsene Lupin, Gentleman-Thief into my carryon bag.  I could not have chosen a better book -- short stories are perfect vacation reads, especially when traveling (since one is so often interrupted by those pesky airport and in-flight announcements); also, this book had the added advantage of being on the TBR shelf and a book translated from French, so I can use it for the Paris in July event.

So.  Arsene Lupin is a dashing, debonair gentleman thief -- he steals from the rich (but doesn't give to the poor); first published in 1907, he's a bit like the French version of Sherlock Holmes -- but if Sherlock were the criminal mastermind, instead of the detective.

Arsene Lupin himself is a mix of James Bond, Robin Hood, and Hercule Poirot.  He's suave and sophisticated, the ladies all swoon over him, and he's so brilliant that he always outsmarts the police, especially his nemesis, the detective Ganimard.

This edition includes thirteen short stories, all of which were delightful, if not always strictly believable.  Lupin is a brilliant master of disguise, despite the fact that his photograph is published in newspapers, he's able to fool even the police; he always manages to escape the worst situations; and he's so brilliant he can steal the unstealable, and break into any building, no matter how impenetrable and well-guarded.  He can also solve the crimes of other perpetrators.  In short, he's rather over the top, but the stories are light-hearted and full of witty banter, so it's hard to take them too seriously and judge them too harshly. They're a really fun alternative to Sherlock Holmes, plus they're French, so what is not to like?

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Bleak House Readalong, Week 8

This is my second reading of Bleak House, and I'm enjoying the heck out of it.  I can't help it.  I know, it's kind of a nineteenth-century soap opera.  It's melodramatic, and there are far too many coincidences, but I still love it.  It's kind of like a Victorian version of Lost, but without the island and the smoke monster. There's lots of characters whose lives end up mysteriously interconnected. . and they were on an island. . . and there was a lot of smoke in Victorian England. . . so I guess it's a lot like Lost!  (But without the plane crash.  Hey, what about a steampunk version of Bleak House?  Maybe a mashup?)

But I digress.  Sometimes I've fallen behind in the reading/posting, and for this, I apologize.  As far as a plot summary goes, if I describe too much at this point, it would spoil it.  I'll just say the action has really moved along here -- one of our characters is on a major downward spiral, one is in serious trouble, one is dead, and others are suspected of the crime.  Inspector Bucket, one of my favorite characters, had been introduced previously, but now he's really involved in the story.  He's one of the first detectives in English literature, if not THE first, which is pretty cool.  He may have been inspired in part by an actual detective in Victorian history, Mr. Whicher.

I have to admit that I've never actually read the print version of the book the entire way through -- it's so long, and I have so much else to read, that I've combined the audio and print versions.  I'm fortunate that my library has the Naxos audiobook version, narrated by Sean Barrett and Teresa Gallagher, and I think it's just wonderful.  Both of them are such great readers, and can do so many voices so well.  I'm always amazed when a male reader does a distinctive female voice, and vice versa.  With both of these excellent readers, I'm able to tell instantly when Ms. Gallagher is doing Mr. Jarndyce, or Mr. Vholes, or when Mr. Barrett is reading Lady Dedlock's part.  There are more than 40 characters in Bleak House (seriously, I once made a list!) and to be able to so many parts so well is real talent.   The right reader can make or break an audiobook -- I am quite sure that the audio of Wuthering Heights may have been what ruined it for me.

Alun Armstrong as Mr. Bucket
And as I've said repeatedly, I think the BBC miniseries adaptation of Bleak House is just fantastic.  Yes, they had to cut a few characters, and condense things a bit -- they've made a thousand page book into an eight-hour miniseries, so a few things had to go.  The series is quite faithful and really captures the essence of the story, if not every single detail.  I honestly can't say whether I liked the book or the series better, they're both just wonderful.

I still have more than 200 pages to go, with a lot of unanswered questions -- who is the murderer?  Will everyone learn Lady Dedlock's deep secret?  Will the Jarndyce case EVER be settled in Chancery Court?  And will Esther find true love?  And will someone finally smack Harold Skimpole upside the head?  See, I told you it was a Victorian soap opera -- stay tuned for the next episode.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Therese Raquin by Emile Zola

This is the second half of a joint review with Amanda at The Zen Leaf.  For the first half of the review, click here.

Quick synopsis:  Thérèse Raquin has lived with her aunt and sickly cousin Camille since she was a small child and her father basically abandoned her.  Now a young woman, she and her cousin Camille have married and still live with his mother, Madame Raquin, in a dreary little alley in Paris where they have a small haberdashery.  Her life is dull but things suddenly get exciting when she falls for her husband's co-worker, Laurent.  They begin a torrid affair but things take a turn for the worse after Thérèse and Laurent decide they want to be together.
[In the first half of the review, Amanda and I had been discussing some of the themes in Thérèse Raquin.]
Amanda: Oh wow! I was going to point out that same theme - Be careful what you wish for. It was like their wish was their punishment. Fantastic! I’m glad you saw that too. For such a little book, this really had a lot in it, didn’t it? And on top of that, the book could be read strictly for plot. There’s so much ghost story creepy vibe to this book that it’s really just on the edge of pot-boiler. In fact, if it weren’t for all the literary themes, I’d say it was pot-boiler! I loved it, though. It was so fascinating to read. I read somewhere that Zola was doing a character study with it...but that seems to be typical of Zola. He loves character studies! Or just studies in general. I think that’s why I love him so much.
Karen: So, do you think it was a character study of Thérèse or Laurent, or both?  And I’m curious about the other Zola works that you read.  Would you classify those as character studies as well, and , if so, of just single characters or multiple characters?
I also think that Paris is a character in the book.  Zola does such an amazing job of describing the the bleak little alley in Paris where the Raquins lived and worked.  I know descriptions are you not your favorite thing, but Zola made the whole scene so vivid.  The Belly of Paris was set primarily in Les Halles, the famous food market, and he described it so well.  And by the way -- there are a couple of scenes in Thérèse Raquin which are also extremely vivid, but they are not delicious, to put it mildly.  You might not want to eat lunch while reading this book.  That’s all.
Amanda: Supposedly it was a character study of all three major characters. They were both supposed to represent different types of personalities, from what I read. Very interesting stuff.
I’m not sure the other books I read would be classified as character studies, but I do think the work he put into studying people paid off when it came to both books. He certainly went out of his way to make sure he know all his subject matter very well, from the descriptions of Paris to the life of a hired woman to the work of coal-miners. He was very thorough. And despite my normal dislike of description, I actually don’t mind it when it comes to Zola, because he weaves it in so artfully (rather than dumping it in page-long paragraphs that go on forever!). I never feel overburdened by description with him. Of course, much credit has to be given to the translators, which have done an excellent job on the books I’ve read. I love Leonard Tancock’s work, so I’ve grabbed up as many of his translations as possible. I wish he’d translated more! How have your translations been?
Karen:  They’ve been good -- I was surprised at how easy to read Zola is.  I guess I was expecting more long, flowery sentences like Dickens -- probably because it’s 19th century.  But Zola was a journalist first and his prose is really straightforward.  I read the Penguin Classics edition of Thérèse Raquin, which is translated by Robin Buss.  I thought it was excellent.  My edition of The Belly of Paris was translated by Mark Kurlansky, who also wrote some great non-fiction food.  I found it very easy to read, almost contemporary, but not in an intrusive manner -- I recently read a translation of Chekhov that was so contemporary, it was rather jarring.  

Anyway, I’m really happy to have discovered Zola, who has become one of my favorite classic authors.  I went out at bought another of his novels, The Drinking Den, and I’m planning on reading it soon.  I will definitely post my impressions as soon as I get to it!  Any more Zola on your to-read list?  

Amanda: Yep, a whole bunch. Next up will be La Bête Humaine, recommended by my friend Veronica, who says Zola is her fav author and that’s her fav Zola. I’d also love to get my hands on and read The Dream this year. It sounds so fantastic!

Thank you so much for doing this joint-review with me Karen! Any last words on Thérèse Raquin? My only thoughts are that if I’ve loved three different Zola novels like this, I’m hopeful that I’ll just keep loving them!
Karen:  You’re so welcome, I loved it!  We’ll have to do this again soon.  I’m definitely reading more Zola.  Besides The Drinking Den, I’m hoping to read The Kill and The Ladies’ Paradise, plus of course Germinal -- it would be great if we could discuss it in our book group.   And I’d love some suggestions as well -- readers, have you read Zola?  Which were your favorites?
To read Amanda's review of Germinal, click here.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Stories: All New Tales Edited by Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio

I put this book on hold from the library since included a new story by Neil Gaiman, one my favorite authors.  I was surprised and delighted to find that my favorite stories in this collection were by other authors, some of whom I'd never read before.  For example, I probably never would have read anything by horror author Joe Hill (son of Stephen King) but his story, "The Devil on the Staircase," is one that I won't forget.  After committing a crime of passion, a poor Italian laborer rushes down mysterious stone steps into what he believes is Hell, with devastating long-term results.

I expected this collection to be filled with stories of the supernatural, fantasy, and science fiction, but some of them were mystery and suspense.  I recognized quite a few of the authors, and some of them surprised me -- Jodi Picoult, who isn't really known for fantasy/supernatural; Joanne Harris, best known for Chocolat; Joyce Carol Oates; Richard Adams (of Watership Down fame).

My least favorite was probably "Catch and Release" by Lawrence Block, which gets into the mind of a serial killer.  Normally I like his stories, but this one was just a little too realistic, so much so that I can't forget it and wish I hadn't read it.  Block has a similar story in an older collection called Some Days You Get the Bear -- I read it more than ten years ago and I still can't forget it, and not in a good way.  Still makes me shudder to think about it.

But anyhow, I should focus on the best stories.  My favorite has to be by Diana Wynne Jones (I didn't even know she was in the collection until I saw it in the book, so that was a lovely surprise!); it's called "Samantha's Diary," about a woman who starts receiving gifts from a stranger -- all the gifts from The Twelve Days of Christmas.  Every day -- it begins with the partridge in the tree, then the doves, the hens, and all the rest.  It's driving her crazy and all the birds are making a horrible mess.  I thought it was hilarious.  Even if I wasn't an enormous fan of her work, I think I still would have liked this one best.

Of course the collection includes a vampire story.  After Twilight and Sookie Stackhouse, I'm a little tired of vampires, but "Juvenal Nyx" by Walter Mosely was really good, one of the best vampire stories I've ever read.  I'd never read Mosely though I've seen the movie version of Devil in a Blue Dress.  Next time I'm in the mood for a mystery I will definitely look for one of his books.

Overall, this was a really interesting mix of stories, authors, and styles.  They seem really disparate, but the collection really works because of the quality of the writing.  It really sucked me in and I was compelled to finish all of them, so that's saying something.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga

This is a tough book to review.  The White Tiger is the July selection for my monthly library book discussion group, and I knew hardly anything about it before I started -- just that it's set in India, and it's about a man who's telling his life story, and there is some kind of murder involved.  And that's OK -- sometimes I think it's better not to know anything about a book when you start.

This is not a flattering portrait of India.  One of the blurbs on the back says there's "not a whiff of saffron or saris to be found" and that couldn't be more true.  If the idea of India brings to mind beautiful view of the Taj Mahal or gorgeous women with hennaed hands and sparkly jewels, this is not the book for you, to put it mildly.  This is not romanticized at all.  If you have read Q & A by Vikas Swarup (also known as the movie title, Slumdog Millionaire,) that is a whole lot closer to what you should expect.

In fact, it reminded me quite a lot of Q & A.  Both of these books are about young men born into horrific conditions in India, and how they basically pull themselves up by their bootstraps and use their wits to survive.  The comparison pretty much ends there, however.  There's no dancing and singing and uplifting love story in The White Tiger -- just a lot more of the filth and horrific poverty and oh my God, the corruption of India.  If you are squeamish or faint of heart, you might not enjoy this book.  Like Q & A/Slumdog, there's a lot of description of the unpleasant living conditions in India -- the pollution and disease and lack of sanitation.  A few times I had to put the book down and take a break.  Not a book to read while eating.

Anyway, back to story. The main character of The White Tiger, Balram, is born into extreme poverty in northern India -- what he refers to as The Darkness.  According to the book, there are two Indias, The Light and the Darkness -- two different worlds depending on if you're rich or poor.  Balram's so poor, he doesn't even have a real name.  His family just calls him Manna, or Boy.  When he goes to school he's given a name by his teacher, but that's about all he gets from his school, since the teacher is stealing the school money meant to be used for books, uniforms, and lunches.  And Balram's family yanks him out of school when he's a teenager anyway, since he has to get a job smashing coal to pay for his cousin's dowry and wedding.  It seems like all the poor people in India are faced with this downward spiral of no choices, no opportunities, and no real government to look out for them.

Everyone has to hustle to get ahead, and Balram manages to learn how to be a drive a car, and eventually to get a job as a driver with a rich family, where he gets quite an education by keeping his eyes and ears open.  I really did feel sorry for Balram -- he does start out basically honest, and it seems like he's trying to resist falling all the corruption that surrounds him.  This entire book is filled with people either getting or taking bribes or favors, which I found so depressing.  However, I still kept turning back to it.  Balram is not a pleasant character, and does some terrible things to get ahead in life.  Really terrible, horrific things.  This story is one of those fascinating train wrecks -- I knew it would end badly, but couldn't stop reading because I had to find out what happened.

I don't know if I would have read this book if it hadn't been a book club selection.    Coincidentally, I read this just before Fingersmith, another book about criminals.  Ultimately, I think I liked it -- it gave me a lot to think about. It made me think about the choices people have depending on their circumstances.  As bad as the economy and my job situation are, I'm far, far better off than most people in India or in Victorian England.  How far would you go to get ahead in life?  What crimes would you commit to make a better life for yourself and your family?  I can see that this is going to make for a great discussion.  I wouldn't recommend it to everyone, but it definitely gave me some perspective.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Fingersmith by Sarah Waters

Wowza.  I don't think I have ever read a 600 page book so fast.  I know there are lots of glowing reviews of this novel on the blogosphere, and they are all true.  This is an amazing, brilliant book.  Why did I wait so long to read it???

I must disclose that I actually saw the BBC movie first -- which is nearly as good as the book, if that's possible.  The movie is wonderful, and when I saw the book at the library book sale, I bought it and it's been waiting patiently for me to read it ever since.  I actually thought I'd try another Sarah Waters novel first, since I already knew the story.  However, my good friend Amanda at The Zen Leaf is also reviewing it, so I was inspired to read it also.

Sarah Waters must be the best writer of neo-Victorian fiction, ever.  If you've ever been intimidated or turned off by the idea of Victorian novels, this could be the place to start -- it keeps the essence of the Victorians, but with less of the flowerly language and convoluted plots.

I can't say too much about the plot of Fingersmith, because, honestly, that would spoil it.  One of the best things about this book is the fantastic plot, which has some pretty jaw-dropping twists.  Basically, it's about a young woman, Sue Trinder, an orphan who's raised in a den of thieves in Victorian London.  I'm guessing in the 1860s since there's a mention of mourning for Prince Albert (who died in 1861).   Young Sue, who's been raised by a loving foster mother (unlike most literary orphans) is persuaded to pose as a ladies' maid and help swindle a young heiress out of a fortune.   However, things don't turn out as planned.  I'll stop there, because I could go on and on, and I don't want to ruin it for anyone.  It's very Dickensian, and the whole orphan/den of thieves motif is very reminiscent of Oliver Twist -- a very R-rated Oliver Twist, with a female protagonist (there's a little shout-out to Dickens in the beginning of the book, which I loved).

However, this isn't any kind of Dickens fan fiction or remake.  I'm not a big fan of literary sequels and remakes, and the comparison to Dickens pretty much ends there.  Oliver Twist is one of my favorite Victorian novels, but I've always found little Oliver to be a cloyingly perfect, and I'm not a big fan of Dickens' female characters.  They're frequently evil, or bland angels, or bad mothers.  In Waters' novel, the women take the center stage, and they are very three-dimensional.  They're far from perfect, but they're still sympathetic.   It takes a really talented author to make unlikeable characters interesting and compelling, and I found myself fascinated by these characters and sympathetic to their situation.  Women in Victorian times had so few choices, and poor women were worst off of all -- not much chance for education, not many jobs, and no rights.  It made me think about how so often people are products of their environment.

As much as I liked the movie, in a way I wish I hadn't seen it before reading the book simply because there were no surprises.  Yet it did not lessen my enjoyment of this novel one iota.  I still stayed up late at night reading it, and when I woke up early one morning, I could not wait to pick it up and finish it.

And the movie is fantastic.  The acting, the sets, the costumes are all wonderful.  I honestly don't know how they could have made it any better.  They did make a few minor changes, but I think that was mostly just to clarify plot points that are a bit more subtle in the book.  And of course, you miss the wonderful narration by the main character.  A movie can't possibly describe what's going on inside her head.  But it is absolutely wonderful, especially Sally Hawkins as Sue.  Lots of other great actors as well.

Now that I've finished this, I want to watch the miniseries all over again.  And I have a conundrum:  Sarah Waters has written four other novels -- do I rush out and read them all in a row, or ration them out to make them last longer?  It's a tough choice that I face whenever I find a new author I love.

This counts as book #8 for Our Mutual Read Challenge.  This review is cross-posted at Our Mutual Read

Monday, March 8, 2010

Montmorency: Thief, Liar, Gentleman? by Eleanor Updale

Montmorency is a thief.  A common criminal, doing time in one of Victorian London's notorious prison in 1875. But what makes him a different than many criminals is that he's very smart, and that he is lucky enough to have a benefactor of sorts -- a brilliant doctor who saved his life.  While fleeing the police after a robbery attempt, Montmorency he crashed through a factory skylight and landed on an enormous machine, and would have died from his injuries if an ambitious young doctor hadn't wanted to use him as a test case.  A year after his accident, following multiple painful surgeries, the thief who is known as Montmorency (from the name on the bag of tools he was clutching as he fell) is routinely trotted out for meetings of the Victorian scientific community.   He's prodded and poked like a laboratory animal, while the upper-crusties are treating him like some kind of rare zoo exhibit, Montmorency, a bright young man with an excellent memory, is actually studying them, and storing away all sorts of useful information.  He's not stealing valuables items any more -- just valuable ideas.

After one such exhibition, Montmorency absorbs up a very interesting piece of information:  a map of the newly renovated London sewer system.  Montmorency realizes that this would be the perfect escape route for a thief, and for the rest of his incarceration, he begins planning.  He will use his burglary skills and newfound knowledge to reinvent himself as a gentleman.

I really enjoyed this book.  Of course, I'm currently fascinated by the Victorian period, but this book was both well-written historical novel and an exciting adventure/crime story.  Though I personally would never have the nerve to burglarize, it's fun to imagine -- I do love heist movies and crime capers, so there you go.  I think Upland did a good job imagining any plot holes and figuring out plausible explanations as to how Montmorency is able to pull off a double life as a Victorian gentleman (a trick in itself) and a thief that spends his nights in the slimy sewers of London without getting caught.  He does encounter all kinds of setbacks and dangers. 

I do wish that Updale had given more details about the actual burglaries -- once it's established that he's a thief, she doesn't give many examples of the crimes, just the fact that he's a burglar.  Also, she doesn't flesh out too much of his character -- Montmorency is so busy trying to reinvent himself, yet the reader learns next to nothing about his history, not even his real name. A little more detail would have been great.  Since this is the first in the series of four, I suspect the reader will get more information in the later volumes. 

While I do recommend Montmorency, I have to point out that there is extensive discussion, especially in the beginning, about the filth of the London sewer system and everything that's in there -- and fairly explicit descriptions of the sanitation systems of Victorian prisons. If you have a weak stomach, you might want to skim those chapters.  I like to read while I eat, but I would not recommend this book for mealtime eating until you get past about Chapter 13. 

It's short, only 233 pages, and a fast read. This volume of the Montmorency series is also available on audiobook, narrated by the wonderful Stephen Fry (aka Wooster from PBS' Jeeves & Wooster).  I've already put Monmorency Book #2 on hold at the library.  Sadly, though there are several copies of the first book in my library system (which has 24 branches) they only own one of each of the remaining books in the series.  It's too bad this book isn't more popular. 

This is book #4 for Our Mutual Read challenge.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher: Murder and the Undoing of a Great Victorian Detective by Kate Summerscale

CSI:  Victorian!! 

If you have any interest at all in Victorian sensational or detective fiction, or in the neo-Victorian detective fiction, this book will probably interest you as much as it did me.  Mr. Whicher gives great insight into the Victorian frenzied fascination with crimes and detection.  Summerscale shows the influences of this case, as well as other Victorian true crimes, on such famous novelists as Charles Dickens, Wilkie Collins, Henry James, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. 

This book explores a sensational case that mesmerized the British public in 1860. The real-life detective, Mr. Whicher, was the inspiration for several fictional detectives, including one my personal favorites, Inspector Bucket in Charles Dickens' Bleak House. As I read the book, I couldn't help but picture Mr. Whicher looking exactly like Alun Armstrong, the actor who portrayed Inspector Bucket so perfectly in the 2005 BBC adaptation.

In the early hours of June 29, 1860, a terrible crime occurred in the town of Road, Wiltshire County.  After the entire household was shut up tight,  Francis Saville Kent, not quite four years old, was taken from his bed while still asleep in the dead of night and brutally murdered.  His absence was discovered the following morning and not long afterward his small body was found in the servants' privy.

Since the house was completely secured, suspicion fell on the members of the household. That night the residents were: Mr. Kent, his second wife Mary, who was eight months pregnant; three servants, and the children: four children ages fifteen to twenty from his first marriage; and three small children from the second marriage.  In particular, suspicions focused on three people:  the nursemaid, Elizabeth Gough, who slept in the nursery with two of the children, including young Saville, the victim; Constance Kent, 16, from Mr. Kent's first marriage; and Mr. Kent himself.

After several days of investigations by the local police, the media had caused such an uproar that the entire country was riveted on the case, and a Scotland Yard detective was called in: Mr. Whicher.  This case became a media circus.  If you think the paparazzi and the media are bad now, it was just as awful 150 years ago.  This case tore the family apart, exposing all their quirks, and secrets.  The case revealed some oddities; first, that the late Mrs. Kent had been considered mentally ill before her deat; that the second Mrs. Kent had been the family governmess, who was in control of the household while the first Mrs. Kent was ill; that the oldest Kent children, from the first marriage, lived on the third floor, on the same level as the servants.  This raised some very interesting questions -- had Mr. Kent had an affair with the governess while the first wife was alive?  Was the first Mrs. Kent truly mentally ill, or were Mr. Kent and the governess simply trying to get her out of the way?  Were the older children badly treated by their stepmother?  And was Mr. Kent having an affair with the nursemaid?  The speculation by the media, the public, and the police were overwhelming and went on for years until the mystery was finally solved.

This book is both well-written and well-researched.  Summerscale pored over original documents, and the book includes diagrams, illustrations, and photos of the family and the house -- and an extremely useful note on currency conversions.  It's both fascinating and creepy.  I've read a lot of mysteries, but hardly any true crime.  The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher also explores the Victorian fascination with detectives and fantastic popularity of detective fiction and sensational novels.  If you've read Bleak House, The Moonstone, or The Turn of the Screw, you may recognize elements from this case.  It also inspired many other "locked house" and "country estate" murder mysteries.  The creepy part is that it's all true.

This book counts as my first book in the Our Mutual Read ChallengeThis blog entry is also posted at Our Mutual Read.