Category Archives: 4 Stars

Review: Surrender by Donna Malane

Posted on
8

Diane Rowe finds people for a living. Whether it be for family members, PI firms, lawyers looking for witnesses, insurance companies, television shows or the cops Diane’s job is to find people who have gone missing. In the case that threads through SURRENDER some decades-old remains are found in a remote part of the Rimutakas, a mountain range on New Zealand’s North Island, and Diane is tasked with discovering who the person was.

But Diane has something else on her mind as the book opens. Her ex-husband Sean, a Wellington policeman, arrives at her house with the news that a fresh body has been found. It is the body of a lowlife called Snow, the man everyone thinks (but can’t prove) responsible for the murder of Diane’s younger sister Niki a year ago. As Snow has been murdered in the same way that Niki was it seems likely there is a connection but Diane seems unwilling, unable even, to allow the police investigation to take its course without getting involved herself.

Both stories open strongly and though they remain unconnected except by Diane’s involvement for the length of the book, Malane manages to switch back and forth between threads with ease; combining them into a snappily paced book with much to offer readers. The missing persons case proves to have several false starts and though the methods used to start narrowing down the possibilities are a little more mundane than depicted in TV shows like Without a Trace I found this aspect of the book fascinating. Diane’s dabbling in the investigation of Snow’s death, or to be more precise Snow’s life as it pertained to her sister, is equally absorbing. Again there are several points at which it seems things are resolved only to find that there is yet another twist in this satisfyingly complex tale.

Another strong element of the book is the character of Diane who narrates her story with an attractive mixture of humour, self-deprecation and introspection. She’s quite straight forward in taking responsibility for her marriage breakup, fully admitting that she was impossible to live with in the aftermath of her sister’s death, and this frankness lulls the reader into thinking that Diane is as self-aware as she will ever be. But as the book progresses and she learns more about her sister’s life Diane also learns more about herself and the ways in which her own behaviour might have failed her sister. The reflection that we often don’t know people as well as we think we do, even those closest to us, is a tough lesson but one most of us have to grapple with at some stage. Malane teased this aspect of the story out sensitively but without straying into maudlin territory and it’s all the more compelling for the restraint shown.

I always worry when I mention that a book has humour that people will think the whole thing a barrel of laughs so I’ll be clear and say this book has dark moments too. I don’t want to give spoilers but I can say that at one point Diane is personally endangered and attacked. The way she deals with the aftermath of this, though perhaps surprising for a procedural-y kind of story, had an air of authenticity and helped make the book a memorable one for me.

SURRENDER was the winner of the inaugural NZ Society of Authors award for best unpublished manuscript in 2010 and (for once!) I can see exactly what the judges were thinking in bestowing the prize. This is a very assured piece of writing that offers intelligence, humour and suspense in equal measure and there’s a strong sense of physical place, a hint of romance and a wonderful canine character. I look forward to more of all of this from Donna Malane.

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SURRENDER has been In The Spotlight at Confessions of a Mystery Novelist and has been reviewed at Crime Watch

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My rating 4/5
Publisher NZ Society of Authors [2010]
ISBN 9780473174149
Length 300 pages
Format paperback
Book Series #1 in the Diane Rowe series (hopefully there are more to come)
Source I received it as a gift from a fellow book lover in San Diego - thanks Margot, I’ll be sure to pass it on to another book lover
Creative Commons Licence
This work by http://reactionstoreading.com is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Review: Trick of the Dark by Val McDermid

Posted on
12

Having complained often and at length about authors who write the same book over and over again I chose to TRICK OF THE DARK up precisely because it was clear from the disparity of opinion about it that, if nothing else, McDermid had written a different book from her previous work. My main exposure to her writing has been through the Tony Hill books which are a bit bloody for my taste though I do like her writing so I was keen to try more of her standalone novels.

There were lots of things I enjoyed about TRICK OF THE DARK though my relationship with the book didn’t start well as the main character, psychiatrist Charlie Flint, is angst-ridden about whether or not to cheat on her wife Maria with another woman. I groaned audibly I think as the ‘to cheat or not to cheat’ storyline is a particular annoyance of mine both in real life and in fiction (cheat if you must but don’t bend my ear about your vacillation is my motto). But even though that thread does run throughout the novel I thoroughly enjoyed the rest of this complicated and fast-paced book.

As well as considering embarking on an affair, Charlie is in professional disgrace as the book opens due to an assessment she had made in a criminal case. Although something of a side thread I found this quite fascinating as it explored the notion of guilt and whether or not people can or should be prevented by society from committing crimes they’ve only thought about. One morning she receives some curious news clippings in the mail about a murdered bridegroom she doesn’t know. After some plot contrivances she works out that the clippings have been sent by one of her tutors from her time at Oxford and the widower of the bridegroom is Magda, whom Charlie knew as Maggot when she used to babysit her some years ago. When she gets in touch with the tutor, Corinna, she is is asked to investigate Magda’s husband’s murder. Corinna doesn’t think the two people who have been found guilty of the murder were responsible, instead she blames Magda’s new love interest, a woman called Jay who is also a former student of Corinna’s and is now a very wealthy business woman. Corinna tells Charlie that if she does not investigate and find evidence of Jay’s guilt Corinna will do whatever it takes to protect her daughter from the woman she perceives as evil.

That’s about as simply as I can summarise the early part of the book and it gets more complicated from that point on but it’s surprisingly easy to follow. Though perhaps that’s just because McDermid has the skill to make such twists and turns look easy. The book does require the suspension of disbelief but I had no trouble doing that, quickly getting caught up in the whydunnit aspects of the novel and the lives of its three main characters.

In some ways I thought Charlie the least interesting of the three (though admit that’s mainly because I was bored by the whole cheating thread). Jay Stewart, whose point of view much of the story is told from, would be intriguing I think even if you weren’t always wondering in the back of your mind if she is a serial killer. She has already published one book, a misery memoir of her horrid childhood, to much acclaim and has been persuaded to write a second biography. This volume will focus on her more recent life of ‘triumph over tragedy’ and we learn about her life as she writes different chapters though readers are always aware of the unreliable nature of Jay’s ‘recollections’. It would be a terrific sign of society’s maturity to be able to write about this book without mentioning that the three main characters (and several minor ones) are lesbians but the women’s sexuality is a significant factor in the stories. Their various experiences of coming out (or not doing so) and being on the receiving end of homophobia significantly colours the lives of all the lesbians in the story and so is an integral part of the book. Unlike some of the more vitriolic reviews on Good Reads and Amazon I thought this aspect of the book was handled sensitively and intelligently.

TRICK OF THE DARK managed to draw me into subjects and worlds I have no experience of including the cloistered atmosphere of Oxford college and its lingering pull on all who attend, as well as the tribulations of being gay and hated for that fact (in my bubble world I like to think we’re all grown up about such things now but clearly not). Having had somewhat ambivalent expectations of this book through reading very positive and very negative reviews I was pleasantly surprised and would recommend the book to those who can suspend their disbelief in the interests of a ripping, and thought-provoking yarn.

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TRICK OF THE DARK has been reviewed at Crime Scraps, Euro Crime, Euro Crime (2), Petrona and Savidge Reads

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My rating 4/5
Author website http://www.valmcdermid.com/index.html
Publisher Hachette Digital [2010]
ISBN 9780748117017
Length 362 pages
Format eBook (ePub)
Book Series standalone
Source I bought it
Creative Commons Licence
This work by http://reactionstoreading.com is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Review: Matilda is Missing by Caroline Overington

Posted on
6

Matilda is Missing is narrated by Barry Harrison, a pensioner from a typical working class suburb in Melbourne. As the book opens we learn that Barry’s wife Pat is struggling to cope with the loss of access to her grandchildren after her son’s marriage collapses. At the same time Barry inherits some documents from an old friend of his, Frank Brooks, who was a judge in the Family Court. Frank believes he made a mistake in a case he presided over and, knowing he is dying, thinks Barry will know the right thing to do and so arranges for the case files to be passed on. Barry has no clue why Frank chose him to deal with the matter but he is not the sort of bloke to shirk a duty so he starts to review the documents. As he does so  the troubling story of Garry Hartshorn and Softie Monaghan and their struggle for their daughter Matilda unfolds.

I’ll be up front and say this is not the sort of book I would normally read. I was wary of comparisons in the book’s own marketing material to the works of Jodi Picoult as I’ve read a couple of those and found them too manipulative of reader emotions and opinions for my taste (to me they have an air of the author pushing the reader to be in a flood of tears by the end and if you’re not there’s something wrong with you). However, when I signed up for the Australian Women Writers challenge I opted to dabble in genres beyond what I typically read and I chose Matilda is Missing as one of the “out of my comfort zone’ books. In the end I had a couple of misgivings about it but overall there was much more to like than I anticipated.

One of those misgivings concerned the contrivance used to make Barry the teller of this particular story. Aside from questioning the legalities of such a handover of documents (one component in particular is illegal where I live) it was a little too convenient to be wholly believable that the court documents would include a series of taped sessions with a psychologist that were perfectly ordered and complete in the details they provided about the histories and shared life of the two main characters. But while I’d have preferred some other method for enabling Barry to be the narrator, I think Overington made a great choice in using him for the role as the novel did need to be told from the perspective of an outsider to the central relationship. He was far enough removed from the heart of things to allow him (and by association us as readers) some objectivity but involved enough to offer some authentic insights into the events being depicted and the emotions experienced by the various players.

Barry was also a very realistic character, often sounding like my own dad (who is a bit older but has a very similar background and philosophy to Barry’s). I particularly liked the way Overington used him to help show the generational differences in the way men display their thoughts and feelings about their families. I warmed to Barry’s laconic, pragmatic voice very quickly and wanted to give him a great big hug at the end when he took a practical approach to his own family’s problems. My dad would approve too.

The couple at the heart of the story are also realistically depicted, as is their tale of misguidedly getting together. I know some people whose lives have panned out exactly as they planned when they were eleven, but I know a lot more (myself included) who have muddled their way through and often found themselves astonished at the situations they’ve gotten into. Garry and Softie fall squarely into this second category and the book does a great job of showing us how easily such things happen, irrespective of how smart the participants are or how many warning bells ring. Overington shows us why Garry and Softie either couldn’t see the disasters looming in their relationship or why they chose to plough on regardless. The plot device used is a series of taped sessions the two participated in individually with a psychologist as part of the court process and so we see two vastly different interpretations of the same events on multiple occasions and this is fascinating. Their first date for example is described truthfully by both of them but it sounds as if they are talking about two entirely different events because, as with most things in life, the truth is often a matter of perception. As a whole though the two were shown with an almost complete lack of moralising about their behaviour and choices; another benefit of the narrative device and another strong point in the book’s favour.

My only other misgiving is about the ending. The bulk of the book is an even-handed and thoughtful exploration of the fallout from family breakdown in a modern setting. Through the various scenarios depicted we see that whether you go down the route of using the Family Court or trying to sort things out amicably between the parties, splitting one family unit into two can’t result in happiness for everyone (or in many cases anyone). For me that provided enough drama but the story takes a final, fairly sensationalist twist that I found a little disappointing. Funnily enough I liked the very end which some reviewers who otherwise love the book struggle with due to its ambiguity. But life is full of such loose ends in my experience so I thought this a perfect ending to this sad but realistic story.

All in all this was a very enjoyable read with a terrifically authentic narrative voice which allowed an objective exploration of a difficult subject. Matilda is Missing manages to depict the family breakdown scenario from multiple viewpoints, including that of the often-forgotten extended family members, without demanding that readers take a side. I suppose if you had been through a similar scenario yourself you might find yourself identifying more with one party or the other, but not having been through that experience (thankfully) I found Overington’s characterisations of both Garry and Softie to be even-handed and judgement free. I eagerly gobbled the book up in a couple of sittings and recommend it to all.

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Caroline Overington is a Walkley Award winning investigative journalist and has published two non-fiction books as well as three novels to date including Ghost Child and I Came to Say Goodbye in addition to Matilda is Missing.

This is my first book counting towards the Australian Women Writers Challenge 2012 in which I am aiming to read and review 10 books by female Australian writers (actually I’m hoping for a number somehwere closer to 25 by year’s end but the offical challenge is for 10 books). I’ve opted to be a dabbler as far as genres go. I’ve no idea what genre this book belongs to (which kind of supports my premise that genre labels are silly) but in the absence of anything else will go with contemporary fiction.

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My rating 4/5
Publisher Bantam [2011]
ISBN 9781742750385
Length 353 pages
Format trade paperback
Book Series standalone.
Source I borrowed it from the library
Creative Commons Licence
This work by http://reactionstoreading.com is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Review: A Trace of Smoke by Rebecca Cantrell

Posted on
13

I’ve had Rebecca Cantrell’s A Trace of Smoke on my shelves forever (well, since Norman told me to get it anyway) but every time my eye rested on the exquisite cover I thought “oh no not another book about bloody Nazis” and read something else (Nazis and gangsters being the two themes I feel like I am done with for this lifetime). I’m not sure what prompted me to actually pick it up now, probably that gorgeous cover that I’m not meant to judge by, but I’m glad I did because on top of it being very good the bloody Nazis are not the focal point of the story.

The book is set in Berlin at the tail end of the Weimar republic, just before Hitler takes power. Hannah Vogel is a 30-something journalist who spots a photo of her younger brother Ernst’s dead body pinned up in the Hall of the Unnamed Dead at the police station when she is checking in as part of her crime beat duties. She is devastated but she cannot tell anyone because she and Ernst have loaned their identity papers to Jewish friends who have tried to escape to America, and this crime will come to light if she identifies Ernst’s picture. So she sets out to investigate the death herself, risking her own safety in unravelling Ernst’s unorthodox life as an openly gay man who works as a cross-dressing night club singer and has a string of influential lovers, many of whom have reason to want to silence him.

For a few pages at the beginning I worried this book was going to be some kind of sensationalist thriller with scenes meant to shock rather than advance the story or explore some nuance of a character’s life but it soon started to take a more sensitive and mature route to its climax. The success of tackling such a potentially tawdry subject matter is due mostly to the development of Hannah as a character who was a wholly believable and engaging person. She had looked after her much younger brother for most of his life and was accepting of his homosexuality unlike her older sister who had virtually disowned Ernst. Still she couldn’t help wishing a different life for him that didn’t involve the ever-present threat of beatings by the brown shirts or imprisonment for what was a crime at the  time and her attitude seemed very natural (though possibly a tad too modern?). Her willingness to go to any lengths to discover his killer, even take on a senior Nazi party official, is depicted believably and, as many crime writers have done before, Cantrell uses the fact of Hanna’s journalism to make her amateur sleuthing more believable than it would be if she were any other kind of normal citizen. She is helped and hindered in her quest by a variety of mostly intriguing and credible characters including a romantic interest (who helps) and the man Ernst had been living with at the time of his death (who doesn’t help). Her meeting with and growing attachment to 5 year-old Anton, who plays a key role in the story’s resolution, is quite wonderful to watch develop over the course of the novel.

The other standout feature of A Trace of Smoke for me is the historical setting which quickly absorbed me with its myriad of tiny, plausible details. Hannah’s needing to lodge her newspaper columns under a male pseudonym, the various indicators of the country’s slide towards legal persecution of Jewish people and other minorities, the woeful economic state lingering after the hyperinflation of the early 20′s are all drawn beautifully and help create the cloying atmosphere in which Hannah must untangle the threads of Ernst’s life.

Although it does take place in a thematically dark setting and has its harrowing passages A Trace of Smoke also has moments of joy and laughter and is all the better for being balanced like that. And even though one or two of those bloody Nazis do make an appearance the book is about much more than them. It’s about good people doing the right thing even (especially?) when to do so is dangerous and it’s about how, sometimes, the things we do for love can win out over the things that are done in the name of hate.

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A Trace of Smoke has been reviewed at Crime Scraps, DJ’s Krimiblog

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My rating 4/5
Author website http://rebeccacantrell.com/
Publisher Tom Doherty Associates [2009]
ISBN 9780765326904
Length 319 pages
Format trade paperback
Book Series #1 in the Hannah Vogel series
Source I bought it
Creative Commons Licence
This work by http://reactionstoreading.com is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Review: Purge by Sofi Oksanen

Posted on
5

Aliide is an elderly widow living in an isolated house in a half-deserted Estonian village in the early 1990′s. One day she finds a young girl collapsed outside her house and, against her better judgement (who might be watching and who will they tell?), she brings the “dishrag of a girl” into her home where she, warily and sparingly, provides some nourishment and general aid. About all we know for sure for some time is that the girl’s name is Zara and she is from Vladivostok. Over the course of the novel we travel backwards and forwards in time to learn the histories of the women who have both had traumatic experiences which have left deep physical and psychological scars.

Purge isn’t only a story of violence and abuse perpetrated against its two protagonists but is testament to the ease with which such behaviour has always been, and is still, accepted as the natural way of things in many cultures. Its sadness lies not only in the stories of two women but in the fact that these stories are shared by so many (we did, after all, just observe the international day for the elimination of violence against women). However the strength of the novel lies in the clever and engaging way Oksanen teases out the stories and compels the reader to discover how the two women ended up where they were. Aliide’s story in particular also plays out against the backdrop of some momentous events in the region’s history, including the rise and fall of the Soviet Union and the nuclear disaster at Chernobyl and there is a very credible depiction of the impact of these events on the day-to-day lives of the average person. This aspect of the novel made me realise how little I know about these events from recent history when compared with events in western Europe or America.

The two central characters are very strong though not, perhaps contrary to expectations, entirely likeable. Aliide is an especially prickly character and while some of this is explained by the horrific traumas she has experienced there are other things which cannot be so easily justified. I liked the fact she was portrayed in this way as it made her far more believable than I think she would have been without these very human flaws. The secondary characters, including the various people who torment the two women are also well-drawn and all too credible.

The story itself was well told and relatively easy to follow despite its somewhat choppy nature though I have to admit I thought the ending somewhat awkward and rushed. I’ve read quite a few reviews of this book and they all seem to take a different message or theme from their reading which is the sign of a really great book. For myself I thought it spoke beautifully about the dangers of longing for something (or someone) you can’t have, the lengths humans will go to for self-preservation and I enjoyed reflecting on the various implications of the novel’s title. It is, in parts, a harrowing read but a highly rewarding one.

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Purge has been reviewed at Petrona and The Black Sheep Dances and I am counting it towards my Eastern European Reading Challenge

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My rating 4/5
Translator Lola Rogers
Publisher Atlantic Books [2011]
ISBN 9780857890528
Length 402 pages
Format eBook (kindle)
Book Series standalone
Source I bought it

This post is published at http://reactionstoreading.com if you are seeing it at another site then it has been stolen and/or used entirely without permission.

Review: A Most Peculiar Malaysian Murder by Shamini Flint

Posted on
13

Inspector Singh of the Singapore police is close to retirement age but having done something to annoy his superiors he’s the officer chosen to go to Malaysia to look after the interests of a Singaporean citizen in trouble. Former model Chelsea Liew has been arrested for the murder of her Malaysian ex-husband Alan Lee and Singh is meant to observe Malaysian police and ensure that she receives a fair deal. The problem for Singh is that everyone believes her guilty (and who would blame her given Lee’s years of abuse and the bitter custody battle they were in regarding their children) and if she is convicted she will receive the death penalty.

As seems to be happening more and more with my crime fiction reading of late the mystery element takes a back seat to other aspects of this novel. In this instance it’s not a bad thing at all as there is so much else of interest going on, reminding me once again how suitable the conventions of crime fiction are for writers to explore a range of issues and ideas. Here Flint has included everything from relatively innocuous (though fascinating) observations about the differences between Singaporean and Malaysian cultures to tougher subjects such as the problems that can arise in Malaysia which operates under common law for most things but has formally adopted Sharia law to deal with family law matters for Muslims. By using an example of a remotely possible case in this world of dual laws Flint has offered real food for thought and by resolving this thread in a somewhat unorthodox manner she offers no easy solution to the complexities that must inevitably arise in this type of scenario. Very realistic! It’s a powerful storyline and, for me, made more so because it plays out simply, without any proselytizing.

Although tradition might demand the reader has some sympathy for the victim of a murder it is somewhat difficult here. Alan Lee appears not to have many redeeming qualities, being an abusive husband, horrible father, callous businessman and all around despicable human being. This does give Inspector Singh something to work with when he becomes convinced of Liew’s innocence and tries to convince the local authorities of it. As a character Singh is something of a stereotype being portly, smarter than average and a bit of a loner. He can be quite funny too, especially when dealing with his sister (who lives in Malaysia and provides her hospitality with opinionated homespun wisdom). Although we do meet two local investigators we don’t get to know them in much depth as, unlike most series of this type the Inspector will be off to another country in the next book so there’s not the impetus to develop ‘the investigative team’. Instead we spend time learning about the suspects, especially Alan Lee’s family. I really enjoyed this approach to storytelling.

Aside from this excellent review at Crime Scraps most reviews I have seen of this book (and the series which now totals four) talk about it being light, fun and cosy and I think this is a little misleading. The crime at its heart does happen ‘off-stage’ so to speak and there are not extended passages of violent description so in that way the book is, I suppose, ‘cosy’ but I found the subjects it explored anything but light and frothy. In addition to the issues mentioned above it also deftly tackles the environmental impact of deforestation in the region and the treatment of local indigenous communities, neither of which are subjects I would consider light.

Although now a proud stay-at-home mum in Singapore Shamini Flint has worked as a lawyer in both Singapore and Malaysia which provides an authentic feel to this book. Although it’s not first and foremost a legal thriller there are many scenes in which the law and its application is discussed and dissected in a thought provoking way. Amongst all of this we are treated to a solidly entertaining whodunnit as well, which kept this reader guessing to the end. Although I will happily read the next installment of this series in paper form I am really hoping that it will be released in audio format too as the narration of this book by Jonathan Keeble was (as always) excellent.

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Inspector Singh Investigates: A Most Peculiar Malaysian Murder has been reviewed at Crime Scraps.

I’m counting this as book 2 of the Asian leg of my Global Reading Challenge for the year

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My rating 4/5
Author website http://www.shaminiflint.com/index.html
Narrator Jonathan Keeble
Publisher Hachette Digital [this audio book 2011, original edition 2008]
ISBN N/A (downloaded from audible.com)
Length 8 hours 34 minutes
Format audio (mp3)
Book Series #1 in the Inspector Singh Investigates series
Source I bought it

This post is published at http://reactionstoreading.com if you are seeing it at another site then it has been stolen and/or used entirely without permission.

Review: The Invisible Ones by Stef Penney

Posted on
11

In 1980′s England private investigator Ray Lovell is hired by Leon Wood to find his daughter Rose, a young gypsy woman who he hasn’t seen for six years. Not since she married Ivo Janko, had a child and then, seemingly, disappeared. Leon Wood believes her dead at the hands of the Janko family and wants Ray, who he hires because he recognises that Ray Lovell also has gypsy heritage, to confirm this or locate Rose if she is still alive. At the same time as the story of Ray’s investigation unfolds there are alternating chapters told from the point of view of JJ, Jimmy Janko, the 14 year-old cousin of Ivo Janko and chronicler of the family’s trials and tribulations.

Although Ray Lovell is ostensibly the protagonist here I thought his primary purpose was to provide the angles into the story that a teenage boy could not. Because the story is, at its heart, JJ’s. For the second time in a week I have been captivated by a story told from the perspective of a young boy and in this instance I am also quite besotted. JJ’s perspective on the experiences of his family, still living a somewhat traditional life of trailers, constant moving and deliberate isolation from gorjios (non gypsies), is absorbing. In addition to Ivo and his disabled son Christo we are slowly introduced to JJ’s mum, grandparents, crippled great uncle who live in a group of trailers on the fringes of suburbia. At the beginning of JJ’s story most of the family is on a pilgrimage to Lourdes in the hope of achieving a miracle cure for 6 year-old Christo who suffers from the Janko family disease. This affliction affects the male members of the family and kills most of them, sparing only Ivo who apparently had his own miracle during a visit to Lourdes as a teenager. JJ’s observations about his family, their uneasy relationship with gorjios and his own tentative explorations of a life outside the narrow confines of his upbringing are compelling and I found him an easy character to like as well. Ray Lovell on the other hand is a little bland with a hint of creepiness provided by his stalker-like behaviour towards any woman that takes his fancy.

The story itself is an odd mixture of threads amongst which the mystery component, i.e. finding out what happened to Rose Janko, seems less and less important as the book goes on (which is probably just as well as the resolution is somewhat unbelievable). Really it’s the story of this fascinating family of fringe-dwellers, both physically and literally, who are struggling to maintain their traditions and culture. Penney shows us what they are trying to cling on to and makes us wonder what lengths each of them would go to for a chance at keeping hold of some aspect of their traditional life. The structure of the book is a little complicated though I enjoyed the way it almost started in the middle and then had Ray and JJ’s overlapping narrations draw slowly together.

I must also make a special mention of the narration by Daniel Stevens which I suspect added an extra, entirely wonderful, dimension to my experience of this book. His alteration between the two storytellers seemed to encompass more than a mere voice change (it would have been easy to believe there were two actors responsible for the narration) and I’m sure he helped make JJ in particular a thoroughly three-dimensional character for me.

Normally when I am out of step with other readers it is because they have loved something that I don’t like. This time I seem to be in the reverse situation of thoroughly enjoying a novel that no one else cares much for. Happily I waited until after I had finished the book myself to read any reviews of this newly released book because most of the ones I could find make not very flattering comparisons to her first novel. Personally I’m not so sure they’re that different. Although I liked The Tenderness of Wolves very much I found its mystery element a little underdone and its resolution a little incredible, much like I did here. What I think Penney does superbly, though differently in each book, is transport readers to a world that she creates out of nothing and make it easy to get lost in that world. The fact that 1980′s England doesn’t have much in common with 1860′s Canada is a bonus for me as I’m heartily sick of authors writing the same book over and over again.

So for me this was a great read which I would recommend if you can cope with a slow pace and a novel that is driven more by compelling characters and atmosphere than a thrilling plot. If you are an audiobook fan I would highly recommend Daniel Stevens’ narration which is one of the very best I’ve heard since I started listening seriously (20+ books a year) several years ago.

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I haven’t found any reviews at my usual blogging haunts but this snarky Telegraph (UK) review is pretty representative of those I saw in the mainstream media.

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My rating 4/5 (half a star extra for Daniel Stevens’ narration)
Narrator Daniel Stevens
Publisher Quercus Publishing [2011]
ISBN N/A (downloaded from audible.com)
Length 11 hours 23 minutes
Format audio (mp3)
Book Series standalone
Source I bought it

This post is published at http://reactionstoreading.com if you are seeing it at another site then it has been stolen and/or used entirely without permission.

Review: The Wings of the Sphinx by Andrea Camilleri

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12

When a young woman’s body is found in a rubbish dump Inspector Silvio Montalbano and his team are at first baffled. Her face has been severely damaged so the only identifying feature they have to go on is a tattoo of what appears to be a butterfly on her shoulder and Montalbano uses his friends in the local media to publicise this and try to drum up some information. Eventually the team is led to a charitable organisation in which things are not always what they appear to be.

I read my first Camilleri novel only last year and while I liked it, I did not fall in love with its protagonist as so many other readers have done. However on my second meeting with this character and his environment I am well and truly smitten. This is, quite simply, a delightfully concise book full of humour and warmth and I revelled in its myriad of little joys that felt like they were hidden just for me.

Montalbano is once again worried about his advancing years but whereas this annoyed me a little in the previous book here I found it amusing and at times even poignant. The depiction of two Montalbanos inside his head who argue with each other about his motivations and behaviour is priceless (and relief-inducing because it’s nice to know I’m not the only one who hears such voices). He is also experiencing some difficulties with his long-time love interest Livia but he doesn’t let this get in the way of his investigating. Well not much anyway. In the end he wades through all these personal problems, stands up to the ever-present political and business interests who try to influence his work and even untangles all the wrongly transcribed messages from his devoted but fairly useless desk sergeant Catarella to solve the crime with intelligence and a dash of panache.

Much of the enjoyment in the book stems from the word play and language games with which the book is littered; a testament both to Camilleri and his translator Stephen Sartarelli. I cannot think of any aspect of translation that would be more difficult to get right than the range of both obvious and subtle humour on display here. But the book is not all laughter and lightness; alongside the almost slapstick moments such as a police department which can’t afford petrol for its cars there are touching elements too like Montalbano’s growing intolerance for the death he is confronted with in his work and on his television screen.

I read this book in not much more than a single sitting and enjoyed every minute of it. The implausible but nevertheless compelling set pieces, the seriousness with which Montalbano treats lunch and the brilliant depiction of local life and customs are a welcome treat. In the middle of a cold and gloomy winter you can’t ask for much more than a book which puts a smile on your face for several days.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

The Wings of the Sphinx has been reviewed at Crime Scraps, Euro Crime (By Maxine) and The Game’s Afoot

This is one of seven books nominated for this year’s International Dagger award for translated crime fiction which will be announced later this month. So far I have read Anders Roslund & Borge Hellstrom’s Three Seconds, Ernesto Mallo’s Needle in a Haystack, Fred Vargas’ An Uncertain Place and Valerio Varesi’s River of Shadows. I have Domingo Villar’s Death on a Galician Shore and Jean-Francois Parot’s The Saint-Florentin Murders still to read. I’ve got both on my eReader and will definitely read the Villar but haven’t yet decided on the Parot – it sounds a bit heavy-going for someone who hasn’t read any of the earlier books in the series.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

My rating 4/5
Translator Stephen Sartarelli
Publisher Penguin [2009]
ISBN 9780143116608
Length 227 pages
Format paperback
Book Series #11 in the Inspector Montalbano series
Source borrowed from the library

Review: Bury Your Dead by Louise Penny

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Armand Gamache is Chief Inspector of the Sûreté du Quebec and acknowledged as a fine policeman. As this book opens however he is on leave, recovering from the physical and emotional scars left by events that we don’t know the details of until well into the book. He has gone to Quebec City to stay with his former boss and to conduct some historical research. This activity leads him to become involved in an investigation into a local murder. Although not yet ready to return to work in an official capacity his involvement in this interesting case does provide him some respite from reflecting on the terrible events that have led to his being on leave. At the same time he has become concerned that the resolution to his last case, depicted in The Brutal Telling, might have been incorrect so he asks his colleague Jean Guy Beauvoir, also on leave and recovering from injuries he sustained in the same events that still affect Gamache, to return to Three Pines and see if he can spot something the investigative team missed.

Louise Penny is a consistently good teller of stories but she has outdone herself here, juggling three quite distinct stories without a thread dropped or a wobble made. The re-investigation into the last Three Pines murder is probably the simplest of the stories told and stems from everyone’s belief that the man who went to prison for that murder wouldn’t have behaved as stupidly as it appears he did. Jean Guy is told to approach the re-opened investigation with the assumption that the man is innocent and see what else he can find out on that basis. Unlike Gamache Jean Guy has not been a big fan of the odd little village and its quirky inhabitants but it seems to offer just what he needs for his recovery.

In Quebec City Gamache is doing some research at the Literary and Historical Society library. This peculiar institution is home to all the books and personal papers which capture the history of Quebec’s tiny English-speaking community. The building, the collection it houses and the people who look after it have all seen better days. When Augustin Renaud, an eccentric character who has spent his life searching for the burial site of Quebec’s founder, Samuel de Champlain, is found in the sub-basement of the building Gamache is asked to become involved in the investigation by the elderly librarian. She thinks he will be more sympathetic to the English than other French people. I must admit to finding this story particularly engaging, involving many interesting historical tidbits and a thoughtful depiction of the separatist movement (as well as much walking around the historical city by Gamache and his adorable sounding dog Henri). Fittingly this is a case that is solved mostly by old-fashioned policing.

The final story is the recounting of the events that have led to Gamache and Jean Guy being on leave. Penny has for the most part resisted the temptation to indulge in too much sentimentality here, which for me makes it all the more compelling. Told mostly via Gamache’s remembered conversations with another of his colleagues, with occasional input from Jean Guy, this thread is a contrast to the case unfolding in Quebec City, involving very modern problems and the latest policing techniques.

For me this series has not, in the past, quite reached the ‘must read’ list primarily because I found its hero a bit too perfect and its fictional setting a bit too quirky. Here though we spend less time in quirky Three Pines and Gamache’s perfection is a little tarnished (if only in his own eyes) which made the book a much more credible and satisfying read than its predecessor. The intertwining stories had me hooked from beginning to end and I adored Adam Sims’ narration, complete with mild French accents where appropriate (le puff, le pant as my favourite cartoon character would say).

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Bury Your Dead has been reviewed at Mysteries in Paradise

There has been talk of late in the book blogosphere about visiting in real life locations that appear in books and I couldn’t help but smile when Armand Gamache talks in Bury Your Dead about walking through the old part of Quebec City and coming across ‘Canada’s most photographed building’. I went to Canada as part of my first overseas trip as a 20-year old (approximately 100 years ago) and, yes, I took a photo of it too (I certainly couldn’t afford to stay there). The building is now the Chateau Frontenac Hotel and has always been a luxury hotel since its opening in 1893.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
My rating 4/5
Author website http://www.louisepenny.com/
Publisher ISIS Audio Books [2010]
ISBN 9781445008967
Length 12 hours 15 minutes
Format Audio CD
Book Series #6 in the Armand Gamache/Three Pines series
Source I borrowed it from the library

Review: Plugged by Eoin Colfer

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Being more than a little annoyed with Eoin Colfer, because he wrote the unnecessary and (by me) unwanted posthumous sixth book in Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy trilogy, I had no intention of reading his first non Adams-related foray into adult writing. But I saw this review and heard Colfer discuss the book on Australian radio and thought I might be being a bit harsh to excommunicate the man based on one poor decision. This turned out to be a good choice on my part.

Ex-pat Irishman Danny McEvoy is 42 years old, losing his hair and works as what the Americans call a doorman (and we’d call a bouncer here in Oz) at a seedy New Jersey casino. When his almost-girlfriend Connie is killed Danny is not only one of several suspects but he becomes embroiled in the case which, quickly, spirals into surreal territory as the investigating cops get violent with each other and all manner of mayhem ensues. At the same time as this is going on Danny’s best friend, cut-price hair-transplant ‘doctor’ Zeb Kronski goes missing from his ‘clinic’ and takes up residence in Danny’s head. Although he wants to find out who killed Connie he needs to find Zeb because he’s half-way through installing (that can’t be the right word) hair transplants into Danny’s balding scalp (and he’d also like to get Ghost Zeb out of his head).

Plugged is funny. Fast-paced, crisply written and brimming with great dialogue it is, above all these, funny. It’s narrated in the first-person by Danny so we see the whole, crazy world from Danny’s rather lonely, somewhat jaded, and follicle-obsessed perspective and the best of the humour comes from Danny’s take on the craziness he sees around him. Of course there are also some slapstick, almost surreal, scenes like the one where Danny has just finished bonking one of the investigating detectives when his neighbour walks in with a dish of home-baked lasagne and mistakes Danny for the husband she last saw two decades ago. Most of these scenes offer a refreshing take on the kinds of things you might expect from this genre (crime kingpins, drug dealers etc) and even though slapstick stuff is not my favourite kind of humour it still had me chuckling on multiple occasions.

As well as the rapidly unravelling current-day events we get some insights into Danny’s former life as a young man with a violent father then as a peace keeper with the Irish army in Lebanon (where he first met Zeb). I forgot to make a note the time code for the quote so can’t easily find it in the audio book now but when Danny first mentions the Irish army’s peacekeeping role he says, in his thoroughly deadpan way, something along the lines of ‘you would use the Irish to keep the peace wouldn’t you, given they’ve such an excellent record of cooperation between communities on their own island’. You can’t help but laugh (well I couldn’t help it anyway which saw me revert to crazy giggling lady on the bus status).

I seem to be drawn to crime capers lately, I think they offer me the same light “I don’t have to take this seriously but I can still have a great read’ escape that cosy mysteries used to do (before there were so many not very good ones crowding the space and I kind of gave up on them). I can appreciate that the genre isn’t for everyone but if it is for you, or you’re wondering if it might be, then Plugged is a strongly recommended book. The plot is, of course, outlandish but it does hang together in the context of the book and the laugh count is way above average. If you like audio books then definitely track down the version read by Patrick Moy as he’s a dreamboat of a reader and I find first-person narratives always work particularly well in audio format.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Plugged has been reviewed at The View from the Blue House

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
My rating 4/5
Author website there’s no point in linking to it, Plugged is, oddly, not mentioned AT ALL
Narrator Patrick Moy
Publisher Headline Digital [2011]
ISBN n/a downloaded from audible.com
Length 7 hours 11 minutes
Format mp3
Book Series standalone
Source I bought it