Thanks to an unfortunate run-in with an off-duty cop, Reacher finds himself hitching out of a small Texan town in the height of summer’s midday heat. Expecting to wait hours, he’s surprised to be picked up in minutes, by the kind of driver least likely to stop for a tall, heavily-built man in his prime – a delicate young woman. He’s even less prepared for Carmen’s request – to kill the abusive husband who, jailed for tax evasion, is about to be released early. Reacher is, and has been, many things, but not a killer for hire. He does agree, however, to go to the ranch where Carmen, her beloved daughter Ellie, and her in-laws live.
The fifth in this series about a former MP who goes where the road takes him, righting wrongs along the way, has the same elements as almost all the rest of the Reacher novels I’ve read so far - innocent victims, unrelentingly bad opponents, tensely perilous situations cunningly outwitted, good triumphing over villainy, and our hero riding off into the sunset. As with the rest of the series there’s no need to have read any of Child’s work before – all the back story you need is seamlessly woven into the first few pages, and except where needed for verisimilitude plays second fiddle to the plot. It is Child’s genius that transforms what would, in lesser hands, be formulaic pap into a compelling read that kept me up until late in the night. His characters are fully fleshed, dialogue compelling, sentence structure economical but somehow detailed, and a plot that satisfyingly doubled back on itself. Reacher is always a step ahead – of the other characters, and of at least this reader.
Echo Burning also has one of the nicest dedications I’ve come across in quite a while.
I thoroughly enjoyed Echo Burning and look forward to my next encounter with the laconic, idealised Reacher. – Alex
The Jack Reacher novels
Killing Floor; Die Trying; Tripwire; The Visitor; Echo Burning; Without Fail; Persuader;The Enemy; One Shot; The Hard Way; Bad Luck and Trouble; Nothing to Lose; Gone Tomorrow; 61 Hours; Worth Dying For
Showing posts with label suspense/thriller. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suspense/thriller. Show all posts
Friday, October 21
Before I Go to Sleep - SJ Watson
Christine wakes one morning in an unfamiliar bed next to a stranger with grey hair and a wedding ring. Though they're usually younger and single, the experience isn't a new one, but Christine has no recollection of the night before. she tiptoes to the bathroom, and that's when things start to become strange - her hands are wrong, old, and she's got a band on her left ring finger. Startled, she looks in the mirror and sees the face of a stranger - an old woman.
According to the man, Ben, eighteen years earlier Chris was in an accident that caused a rare form of amnesia - she can retain information for a day, but as soon as you gos to sleep for more than a nap it all goes. Sometimes she can remember parts of her twenties, and sometimes she thinks she's a girl, but she never remembers anything leading up to the accident or following it.
That premise is what lead me to pick up Before I Go to Sleep, and the idea of an exploration of identity reconstruction is fascinating. However, Watson's added a tense element - Chris discovers a journal, kept for weeks, where her previous selves details fragments they remember of their old life and secret therapy sessions with Dr Nash, a psychologist Ben refused to let see her. She learns about things Ben has kept from her, apparently to reduce distress, including the existence and death of their son. And on the cover of the journal, underlined, is the warning "Don't trust Ben!"
As the journal progresses Chris learns more about herself and her life, and becomes increasingly distrustful - about Ben, her therapist, and the reliability of the journal entries she wrote but can't remember. She also discovers that the act of writing things down has, as Dr Nash hoped, has allowed the waking her to retain some of that information. It also let her build up a more coherent picture of her post-accident life, including a lengthy stay is a psychiatric unit.
Perhaps my favourite aspect of Before I Go to Sleep is the beautifully executed unreliable narrator - like the very different but equally compelling We Need to Talk About Kevin, the single voice illuminates and clouds, creating a nivel that is both literary and genuinely gripping. As Anita Shreve says on the jacket, Before I Go to Sleep is "Brilliant in its pacing, profound in its central question, suspenseful on very page." I absolutely couldn't say it better myself. - Alex
According to the man, Ben, eighteen years earlier Chris was in an accident that caused a rare form of amnesia - she can retain information for a day, but as soon as you gos to sleep for more than a nap it all goes. Sometimes she can remember parts of her twenties, and sometimes she thinks she's a girl, but she never remembers anything leading up to the accident or following it.
That premise is what lead me to pick up Before I Go to Sleep, and the idea of an exploration of identity reconstruction is fascinating. However, Watson's added a tense element - Chris discovers a journal, kept for weeks, where her previous selves details fragments they remember of their old life and secret therapy sessions with Dr Nash, a psychologist Ben refused to let see her. She learns about things Ben has kept from her, apparently to reduce distress, including the existence and death of their son. And on the cover of the journal, underlined, is the warning "Don't trust Ben!"
As the journal progresses Chris learns more about herself and her life, and becomes increasingly distrustful - about Ben, her therapist, and the reliability of the journal entries she wrote but can't remember. She also discovers that the act of writing things down has, as Dr Nash hoped, has allowed the waking her to retain some of that information. It also let her build up a more coherent picture of her post-accident life, including a lengthy stay is a psychiatric unit.
Perhaps my favourite aspect of Before I Go to Sleep is the beautifully executed unreliable narrator - like the very different but equally compelling We Need to Talk About Kevin, the single voice illuminates and clouds, creating a nivel that is both literary and genuinely gripping. As Anita Shreve says on the jacket, Before I Go to Sleep is "Brilliant in its pacing, profound in its central question, suspenseful on very page." I absolutely couldn't say it better myself. - Alex
Wednesday, September 14
Daring Detectives – Alfred Hitchcock (ed)
I unearthed this 1975 collection of deservedly well-known short mysteries in the aftermath of my recent book tragedy. The volume is over thirty years old now, and the stories’ original publication dates are far older – I’ve included them in the title/author information.
The day the children vanished: Hugh Pentecost (1958)
The nine students of a small town school vanish on their way home, along with Jerry Mahoney and the modified yellow station wagon/school bus he was driving. Last seen turning on to the two mile dugout track winding around the (guardrail protected) lake, the bright yellow vehicle never re-emerged. The town of Clayton didn’t take long to decide that the formerly trusted Jerry must have done something to their children, despite the distress of his young fiancée, and the stress seemed to push his retired-magician father off kilter.
Though the rationale is important, the centre of “The day the children vanished” is the disappearing act, which I couldn’t work out but which seemed familiar once revealed, either because I read this long ago or because another author’s employed the same sleight of hand. More interesting though is how well Pentecost portrays the understandable but disturbing swing in mood of the town as a whole and the power of fear. This alone makes me interested in checking the author, with whom I was previously unfamiliar, out further.
The nine students of a small town school vanish on their way home, along with Jerry Mahoney and the modified yellow station wagon/school bus he was driving. Last seen turning on to the two mile dugout track winding around the (guardrail protected) lake, the bright yellow vehicle never re-emerged. The town of Clayton didn’t take long to decide that the formerly trusted Jerry must have done something to their children, despite the distress of his young fiancée, and the stress seemed to push his retired-magician father off kilter.
Though the rationale is important, the centre of “The day the children vanished” is the disappearing act, which I couldn’t work out but which seemed familiar once revealed, either because I read this long ago or because another author’s employed the same sleight of hand. More interesting though is how well Pentecost portrays the understandable but disturbing swing in mood of the town as a whole and the power of fear. This alone makes me interested in checking the author, with whom I was previously unfamiliar, out further.
Through a dead man’s eye: Cornell Woolrich (1939)
Layoffs and downsizing are far from new, and nor is filial concern; when he overhears his detective father telling his mother that he’s looking at being demoted to beat cop because of austerity measures Frankie decides to help his dad out by bringing him the most prestigious crime and solution – murder. Fortunately, Frankie has a clue to one where the murder hasn’t even been discovered yet – thanks to the local boys’ hobby of swapping items for another of greater value Frankie is in possession of a glass eye. And why, he reasons, would someone get rid of a perfectly good glass eye unless they were dead?
Very much a product of its time, Frankie is plucky, determined, and significantly unchaperoned. Like boys across time he has scant regard for his own safety and is far more focused on helping his father, who he knows is “the best dick in town!” I very much enjoyed the reading experience, and though I don’t think a longer work by Woolrich would be to my taste this appetiser was very pleasing.
Layoffs and downsizing are far from new, and nor is filial concern; when he overhears his detective father telling his mother that he’s looking at being demoted to beat cop because of austerity measures Frankie decides to help his dad out by bringing him the most prestigious crime and solution – murder. Fortunately, Frankie has a clue to one where the murder hasn’t even been discovered yet – thanks to the local boys’ hobby of swapping items for another of greater value Frankie is in possession of a glass eye. And why, he reasons, would someone get rid of a perfectly good glass eye unless they were dead?
Very much a product of its time, Frankie is plucky, determined, and significantly unchaperoned. Like boys across time he has scant regard for his own safety and is far more focused on helping his father, who he knows is “the best dick in town!” I very much enjoyed the reading experience, and though I don’t think a longer work by Woolrich would be to my taste this appetiser was very pleasing.
The disappearance of Mr Davenheim: Agatha Christie (1953)
Inspector Japp offers Poirot a wager – to find the missing senior partner of financiers Davenheim and Salmon, dead or alive, by the end of the week, without visiting the scene or investigating independently. The facts of the case are undisputed – Mr Davenheim returned by train from Victoria to his country manor at Chingside, wandered around the grounds for some time before tea, then told his wife he was going on to town to post some letters. He was, he said, expecting a Mr Lowen, who was to be shown in to the drawing room if he arrived before Mr Davenheim’s return.
Mr Lowen duly appeared; pleading a train, he left when, after an hour, Mr Davenheim failed to meet him. A subsequent search of the study he’d been waiting in revealed an empty and broken-into safe – a safe that was used to store the jewels Mr Davenheim had been in the habit of buying for his wife whenever he returned from business trips.
A somewhat convoluted mystery, “The disappearance of Mr Davenheim” includes the elements one expects from Christie – class, wealth, clever trickery, and the employment of the little grey cells to reveal all.
Inspector Japp offers Poirot a wager – to find the missing senior partner of financiers Davenheim and Salmon, dead or alive, by the end of the week, without visiting the scene or investigating independently. The facts of the case are undisputed – Mr Davenheim returned by train from Victoria to his country manor at Chingside, wandered around the grounds for some time before tea, then told his wife he was going on to town to post some letters. He was, he said, expecting a Mr Lowen, who was to be shown in to the drawing room if he arrived before Mr Davenheim’s return.
Mr Lowen duly appeared; pleading a train, he left when, after an hour, Mr Davenheim failed to meet him. A subsequent search of the study he’d been waiting in revealed an empty and broken-into safe – a safe that was used to store the jewels Mr Davenheim had been in the habit of buying for his wife whenever he returned from business trips.
A somewhat convoluted mystery, “The disappearance of Mr Davenheim” includes the elements one expects from Christie – class, wealth, clever trickery, and the employment of the little grey cells to reveal all.
The grave grass quivers: MacKinlay Kantor (1931)
A young, unnamed doctor is interviewing for a position to replace the soon-to-retire Doc Martindale of Cottonwood. A sleepy town, he notes, to which Doc Martindale responds that there have only been four murders during the entire history of the town, and only two since 1861. That was the father and brother of young Martindale vanished, along with some $7,000 in gold. Their wagon and team were found, along with some blood, but their bodies were presumed dumped in the nearby river – though Doc always believed they’d been buried nearby.
“The grave grass quivers” is set sixty years later, and is less a mystery than an atmospheric, perfectly crafted vignette. There is, true, a murder (well, two), and the triumphant unveiling of the murderer decades after the crime, plus a unique indicator of the crime (that I somehow wasn’t surprised by, increasing the likelihood that I’ve read this collection before, albeit long ago). But the narrative unfolds gently and almost inevitably, rather than twisting like a contemporary mystery, and Kantor evokes splendid senses of both the time the story is set in and a brief but convincing feel of frontier life a hundred and fifty years ago. I might be interested in following up with Kantor, who is better known, according to Hitchcock’s introduction for “serious novels” – he certainly writes like an author comfortable with producing literature.
A young, unnamed doctor is interviewing for a position to replace the soon-to-retire Doc Martindale of Cottonwood. A sleepy town, he notes, to which Doc Martindale responds that there have only been four murders during the entire history of the town, and only two since 1861. That was the father and brother of young Martindale vanished, along with some $7,000 in gold. Their wagon and team were found, along with some blood, but their bodies were presumed dumped in the nearby river – though Doc always believed they’d been buried nearby.
“The grave grass quivers” is set sixty years later, and is less a mystery than an atmospheric, perfectly crafted vignette. There is, true, a murder (well, two), and the triumphant unveiling of the murderer decades after the crime, plus a unique indicator of the crime (that I somehow wasn’t surprised by, increasing the likelihood that I’ve read this collection before, albeit long ago). But the narrative unfolds gently and almost inevitably, rather than twisting like a contemporary mystery, and Kantor evokes splendid senses of both the time the story is set in and a brief but convincing feel of frontier life a hundred and fifty years ago. I might be interested in following up with Kantor, who is better known, according to Hitchcock’s introduction for “serious novels” – he certainly writes like an author comfortable with producing literature.
Adventure of the Grice-Patterson curse: August Derleth (1956)
Renown detective Solar Pons and his less bright assistant Dr Parker has been asked by Edith Grice-Patterson, grand-daughter of long-dead Colonel Grice-Patterson to come to the family home on Uffa to investigate the latest in a series of curses that have plagued the family – the mysterious strangling death, in a locked room, of her fiancé is but the most recent, following similar, motiveless, murders of her father and uncle. The family is also, somehow, able to keep dogs alive.
If both the protagonists and the set up are reminiscent of a more famous detective that is no coincidence – Derleth (with whose work I have previously been unfamiliar) has apparently created homage to Holmes, of which this is but a taste. The writing style is similarly evocative, and though the killer is different to that in the Doyle classic “The scarlet hat band” it is clearly inspired by that work. Certainly if you like Holmes you will like this – I confess I find myself more compelled by the recent BBC series. - Alex
Renown detective Solar Pons and his less bright assistant Dr Parker has been asked by Edith Grice-Patterson, grand-daughter of long-dead Colonel Grice-Patterson to come to the family home on Uffa to investigate the latest in a series of curses that have plagued the family – the mysterious strangling death, in a locked room, of her fiancé is but the most recent, following similar, motiveless, murders of her father and uncle. The family is also, somehow, able to keep dogs alive.
If both the protagonists and the set up are reminiscent of a more famous detective that is no coincidence – Derleth (with whose work I have previously been unfamiliar) has apparently created homage to Holmes, of which this is but a taste. The writing style is similarly evocative, and though the killer is different to that in the Doyle classic “The scarlet hat band” it is clearly inspired by that work. Certainly if you like Holmes you will like this – I confess I find myself more compelled by the recent BBC series. - Alex
The adventure of the seven black cats: Ellery Queen (1933)
Sent out to procure an Irish setter, famed New York city detective and author Ellery Queen discovers a pet-shop mystery – why has a bed-bound pensioner who hates cats been secretively buying a green-eyed black tom each week for the last month and a half? The question is quirky enough to intrigue Queen, who sets out for the nearby apartment that Euphemia Tarkle shares with her more mobile (and impoverished) sister, Sarah-Ann.
Sarah-Ann goes out every afternoon, leaving the door on the latch – this is always when Miss Curleigh brings the new cats around; today, however, there is no answer to her knock, and the door is locked. Procuring the key from the wife of building supervisor Potter reveals an empty apartment – empty except for the sight of a fleeing figure out one window. But where is the paralysed Miss Tarkle?
The core of this mystery is the rationale for the cats, and the answer is both practical and haunting, particularly if you’re a felinephile. The writing is compelling and engaging, and the mystery quite involving.
I have long enjoyed Ellery Queen, with whom I first became familiar through the mid-seventies TV series. I realise, writing this, that it has been many years since I last read one of the beautifully crafted, eponymous detective stories and will rectify this on my return to Australia next week.
Sent out to procure an Irish setter, famed New York city detective and author Ellery Queen discovers a pet-shop mystery – why has a bed-bound pensioner who hates cats been secretively buying a green-eyed black tom each week for the last month and a half? The question is quirky enough to intrigue Queen, who sets out for the nearby apartment that Euphemia Tarkle shares with her more mobile (and impoverished) sister, Sarah-Ann.
Sarah-Ann goes out every afternoon, leaving the door on the latch – this is always when Miss Curleigh brings the new cats around; today, however, there is no answer to her knock, and the door is locked. Procuring the key from the wife of building supervisor Potter reveals an empty apartment – empty except for the sight of a fleeing figure out one window. But where is the paralysed Miss Tarkle?
The core of this mystery is the rationale for the cats, and the answer is both practical and haunting, particularly if you’re a felinephile. The writing is compelling and engaging, and the mystery quite involving.
I have long enjoyed Ellery Queen, with whom I first became familiar through the mid-seventies TV series. I realise, writing this, that it has been many years since I last read one of the beautifully crafted, eponymous detective stories and will rectify this on my return to Australia next week.
The footprint in the sky: John Dickson Carr (1940)
Mrs Topham next door is a shrew and a thief; arguing with her yesterday made sleep walking virtually inevitable. Dorothy Brandt rarely recalls anything that happens when she sleep walks – waking with the faint remembrance of snow is unusual – but is it possible it was she who killed the horrible woman?
The scene certainly gives every indication of that: the only footprints, clear and crisp in the shallow snow, are Dorothy’s tiny size 4 and lead without hesitation to and from the adjacent houses, with not another step marring the white perfection. The only anomalous note is a larger footprint, equally clear, in the snow atop a bordering hedge – one that could not possibly support the weight of the grown man such footwear would fit.
Carr’s well known but I haven’t read his other work. I very much enjoyed the unexpected dénouement and unique flavour of “The footprint in the sky” and may look up his other work in the future. - Alex
Mrs Topham next door is a shrew and a thief; arguing with her yesterday made sleep walking virtually inevitable. Dorothy Brandt rarely recalls anything that happens when she sleep walks – waking with the faint remembrance of snow is unusual – but is it possible it was she who killed the horrible woman?
The scene certainly gives every indication of that: the only footprints, clear and crisp in the shallow snow, are Dorothy’s tiny size 4 and lead without hesitation to and from the adjacent houses, with not another step marring the white perfection. The only anomalous note is a larger footprint, equally clear, in the snow atop a bordering hedge – one that could not possibly support the weight of the grown man such footwear would fit.
Carr’s well known but I haven’t read his other work. I very much enjoyed the unexpected dénouement and unique flavour of “The footprint in the sky” and may look up his other work in the future. - Alex
Friday, December 17
The Woodcutter - Reginald Hill
Once upon a time I was living happily ever after.
That’s right. Like in a fairytale.
How else to describe my life up till that bright autumn morning back in 2008?I was the lowly woodcutter who fell in love with a beautiful princess glimpsed dancing on the castle lawn, knew she was so far above him even his fantasies could get his head chopped off, nonetheless when three seemingly impossible tasks were set as the price of her hand in marriage threw his cap in the ring and after many perilous adventures returned triumphant to claim his heart’s desire.
Here began the happily ever after, the precise extent of which is nowhere defined in fairy literature.
In my case it lasted fourteen years.
So, after a brief three-part prologue, begins this fascinating tale of suspense, triumph, loss, betrayal, revenge, restraint, excess and Machiavellian plotting.
In the space of half an hour the life of Sir Wilfred Hadda, more familiarly known as ‘Wolf,’ fell apart. Woken from sleep by the police, accompanied by television and press media, his response to the smug and sneering DI Medler who proffers a search warrant was impulsive and had far-reaching consequences – he punched the shorter man in the face.
Promptly arrested, Wolf’s attention is on the police tip-off to the media, a focus he doesn’t shift until his lawyer and long-time friend Toby Estover appears and redirects him to the grounds for the search warrant. What little thought Wolf had given it had been in the direction of fraud; DI Medler, though, in Vice. Specifically paedophilia.
Wolf’s initial relief is quickly checked by the appraising look Toby gave him, a look and an attitude Wolf was soon to find familiar and ubiquitous – somehow, despite his clarity that this was an area (unlike business) where he was wholly guilt-free, encrypted images are found on his computer. And in no time at all, things go from bad to extremely worse.
Always a writer of complex and cleverly plotted mysteries, The Woodcutter is a startlingly different kind of novel than Hill’s Dalziel and Pascoe series – still intelligently written and superbly crafted, it twists perception and assumption. Written in first person from Wolf’s point of view and in third person semi-omniscient, this reader at least was swayed first by Wolf’s version of events and then by the perspective of his psychologist, Alva Ozigbo, assigned to evaluate his fitness for parole. Is Wolf an innocent betrayed, or a child molester so horrified by his thoughts and fantasies that he’s in denial even to himself? And how did he, in the space of only a few short missing years, rise from his working class, penniless origins to financial and business success? These two questions lie at the centre of The Woodcutter, shaping and framing both the character of Wolf and the dense plotting of the novel.
In the space of half an hour the life of Sir Wilfred Hadda, more familiarly known as ‘Wolf,’ fell apart. Woken from sleep by the police, accompanied by television and press media, his response to the smug and sneering DI Medler who proffers a search warrant was impulsive and had far-reaching consequences – he punched the shorter man in the face.
Promptly arrested, Wolf’s attention is on the police tip-off to the media, a focus he doesn’t shift until his lawyer and long-time friend Toby Estover appears and redirects him to the grounds for the search warrant. What little thought Wolf had given it had been in the direction of fraud; DI Medler, though, in Vice. Specifically paedophilia.
Wolf’s initial relief is quickly checked by the appraising look Toby gave him, a look and an attitude Wolf was soon to find familiar and ubiquitous – somehow, despite his clarity that this was an area (unlike business) where he was wholly guilt-free, encrypted images are found on his computer. And in no time at all, things go from bad to extremely worse.
Always a writer of complex and cleverly plotted mysteries, The Woodcutter is a startlingly different kind of novel than Hill’s Dalziel and Pascoe series – still intelligently written and superbly crafted, it twists perception and assumption. Written in first person from Wolf’s point of view and in third person semi-omniscient, this reader at least was swayed first by Wolf’s version of events and then by the perspective of his psychologist, Alva Ozigbo, assigned to evaluate his fitness for parole. Is Wolf an innocent betrayed, or a child molester so horrified by his thoughts and fantasies that he’s in denial even to himself? And how did he, in the space of only a few short missing years, rise from his working class, penniless origins to financial and business success? These two questions lie at the centre of The Woodcutter, shaping and framing both the character of Wolf and the dense plotting of the novel.
Set in 2016, with the arrest happening eight years earlier, The Woodcutter’s plot is cleverly constructed, with retrospective chapters that lay out the evolution of his nightmare chronologically, written by Wolf for Alva as part of her assessment of his readiness to return to the world. The global financial crisis looms over the wilfully blind, largely unsuspecting financial sector in 2008 and provides impetus for this novel that could only have been set in the superficially egalitarian but still class dominated world of contemporary England.
There are some amazing quotes throughout the novel, predominantly Germanic – I was particularly struck by this, which articulates much of Wolf’s persona, by Heinrich Heine:
There are some amazing quotes throughout the novel, predominantly Germanic – I was particularly struck by this, which articulates much of Wolf’s persona, by Heinrich Heine:
I am the most easygoing of men. All I ask from life is a humble thatched cottage, so long as there’s a good bed in it, and good victuals, fresh milk and butter, flowers outside my window, and a few beautiful trees at my doorway; and if the dear Lord cares to make my happiness complete, he might grant me the pleasure of seeing six or seven of my enemies hanging from those trees.
From the bottom of my compassionate heart, before they die I will forgive them all the wrongs they have visited on me in my lifetime – yes, a man ought to forgive his enemies, but not until he sees them hanging.
Pastoral, serene, surprising, confronting, occupied with revenge and justice, it might even have formed a template for this work that has caused me to view Hill, an author whose writing I have read for two decades with affection, appreciation and thorough enjoyment, in a new and more exalted light. If you want an internally coherent, intelligent, meticulously crafted, invisibly written, seamless, absorbing novel that combines, as I wrote in my opening, a “fascinating tale of suspense, triumph, loss, betrayal, revenge, restraint, excess and Machiavellian plotting” with all the elements of the very darkest of fairy tales (and is there any other kind?) then The Woodcutter is for you. - Alex
Friday, September 17
Passage – Connie Willis
Joanna Lander is a psychologist investigating near-death experiences, a research field mired in pseudoscience and agenda. Located at Mercy General, her aim is to get to patients who’ve survived dying as quickly as possible, partly to record their experiences as accurately as she can while they’re still fresh, and partly so her data is uncontaminated by her biggest rival at Mercy General, Maurice Mandrake. Author of such erudite tomes as The Light at the End of the Tunnel, Mr Mandrake reshapes survivor’s memories to fit his theory, ruining any subsequent interviews Joanna manages. When she hears about another NDE researcher, Joanna goes to lengths to avoid him – in her experience even the fact he’s an MD is no evidence of sanity.
But Richard Wright is as scientifically based as she is. A neurologist convinced that NDE’s occur for a reason related to survival, he’s created a drug that seems to imitate the NDE experience without endangering the participants – they continuous brain scanning and blood collection while they undergo the induced NDE. His work would allow Joanna access to uncontaminated data from people undergoing repeated, manufactured NDE’s, if only they could get enough appropriate subjects. Instead their ever-shrinking pool includes a socialite to busy to ever undergo the process, a garrulous WW2 veteran more interested in telling tales of his experiences there than post-NDE, a taciturn man who seems to experience nothing when he goes under, and an increasingly skittish college student. Which is why, desperate to discover something before the first round of funding expires, Joanna becomes a subject.
Part of the advantage of having Joanna undergo the process was that she, unlike the other participants, would be able to describe the experience more accurately:
“I’d know if dark meant dark as in Carlsbad Caverns or the hospital parking lot at nine o’clock at night. I’d know if peaceful meant ‘tranquil’ or ‘anesthetized.’ And I’d know what they’re experiencing that they’re not even mentioning because they don’t realize it’s important, and I don’t know how to ask them about it.”
As a qualitative proto-researcher I understand that frustration, of your participants unable to usefully describe or articulate the elements of their experience or practice that you want to explore, and the difficulty of neither leading them nor letting them leave without saying something. So Joanna is all the more frustrated by her inability to capture many of the elements of her own experience, which Richard takes as support for his position that the NDE is a temporal lobe event – the temporal lobe has no connection with the brain’s language centre, and thus no way of articulating. But for Joanna, whose NDE’s built to a fuller, but metaphorical, experience, this focus distracts from her attempts to identify a familiarity she’s certain she has but can’t quite recall.
Her frustration about these teasing almost connections is extremely effectively portrayed – every time she was close to consciously realising what something meant she was interrupted and the fleeting proto-thought vanished again. This aspect was combined with an element that frequently recurs is Willis’s work: as in The Doomsday Book and To Say Nothing of the Dog, in particular, there’s a terrific state of urgency, enhanced by obstacles and people to avoid. While reading the novel I had much the same feeling as one of those dreams where I need to get somewhere in a frantic hurry but am obstructed at every turn. Though caught up in the rush, I also felt irritated by it – the research, though potentially life-saving, didn’t require that kind of immediacy, and I kept being annoyed that Joanna’s priorities were directed toward that rather than the truly time-constrained situation of Maisie, a disaster-obsessed young girl with worsening heart failure.
It is this narrowed, urgent focus that leads to the biggest twist in Passage – having finally discovered the purpose of NDE’s, Joanna frantically searches Mercy General for Richard; hearing that another doctor with whom he’s associated has gone to the ER, where her best friend Vielle works as a senior nurse, she rushes down there. Joanna doesn’t see Richard, but she does see an anxious-looking Vielle talking with a young man – anxious to find Richard and tell him of her discovery, she interrupts the pair, only to find that the young man is armed with a knife, with which he stabs her. As the ER staff swings into action to try to save her, Joanna tries just as desperately to convey the information to Vielle, an effort that she takes with her into her final NDE.
And though I enjoyed Passage as a whole, this is where I detached from the text, because really – apart from the needs of the narrative, what was the rush? There aren’t going to be real world applications of any scientific advance, let alone one as esoteric as this, in anything under a couple of years, so waiting less than an hour for her next scheduled meeting with Richard wouldn’t have delayed anything.
The remaining couple of chapters alternate between Joanna’s new perspective, frantically trying to communicate her findings to Richard before it’s too late, and Richard’s attempts (assisted by Maisie, Vielle, another character whose plot thread I’ve not had space to explore and, unwittingly, Mandrake) to piece together what Joanna did for a missing hour and what relevance it had. This was interesting, and complemented the sense of haste woven through the novel, but I alternated my reading with thinking about what the book would have been like without this twist.
Each chapter opens with a death-related quote, from the last words of historical figures to the last letters of the famous, last messages from lost planes and sunk ships to live reports from broadcasters seeing a tragedy unfold before them. The characters are rounded and well drawn, and I found the research topic fascinating, particularly as it’s related to my own area of academic interest. I’ve yet to have any direct contact with a death survivor who talked about having an NDE, but was prepared to let that aspect go.
Despite its somewhat grim subject matter, there are touches of comedy in Passage. Joanna distresses Richard when, weeding through his participant list looking for Mandrakian ringers, she finds half a dozen who seemed find on Richard’s initial screening but who are True Believers associated with the near-death community, spies for Mandrake, or believe they’ve been abducted by aliens, or otherwise tainted. When Richard, outraged by her revelations, is surprised they weren’t all picked up by the preliminary psych profile, Joanna replies “Believing in the afterlife isn’t a mental illness; a number of major religions have been doing it for centuries.” There is also a romantic undertone, so that although nothing completely develops the reader is left with a strong sense of potential.
I also really enjoyed a thread I alluded to above and haven’t been able to explore here, which involved Mr Briarly, Joanna’s favourite high school teacher, now struggling with Alzheimer’s, and his niece Kit. Both the characters and the situation were beautifully portrayed, and I particularly liked the depiction of Alzheimer’s as a progressive death of personhood. There is also a recurring motif throughout the novel, clear in retrospect, that hints at the purpose of NDE’s; the characters in the book, like this reader, were equally blind to them, and in the last section they were also deaf to Mr Briarly’s remarks that, in a metaphysical communication with Joanna and with the part of him already gone, desperately tried to pass on a message.
I feel as though I’ve failed to capture all the elements of Passage that I’d like to – I haven’t, for example, given Maisie a fraction of the time she deserves, nor her fascination with disasters, the apparently tangential recurring Titanic/disaster motif, or even mentioned the confabulating Mrs Davenport. On the other hand perhaps, by having difficulty directly communicating what I intend, I’m doing Passage greater justice than I think. – Alex
To read Lynn’s review of Passage click here.
But Richard Wright is as scientifically based as she is. A neurologist convinced that NDE’s occur for a reason related to survival, he’s created a drug that seems to imitate the NDE experience without endangering the participants – they continuous brain scanning and blood collection while they undergo the induced NDE. His work would allow Joanna access to uncontaminated data from people undergoing repeated, manufactured NDE’s, if only they could get enough appropriate subjects. Instead their ever-shrinking pool includes a socialite to busy to ever undergo the process, a garrulous WW2 veteran more interested in telling tales of his experiences there than post-NDE, a taciturn man who seems to experience nothing when he goes under, and an increasingly skittish college student. Which is why, desperate to discover something before the first round of funding expires, Joanna becomes a subject.
Part of the advantage of having Joanna undergo the process was that she, unlike the other participants, would be able to describe the experience more accurately:
“I’d know if dark meant dark as in Carlsbad Caverns or the hospital parking lot at nine o’clock at night. I’d know if peaceful meant ‘tranquil’ or ‘anesthetized.’ And I’d know what they’re experiencing that they’re not even mentioning because they don’t realize it’s important, and I don’t know how to ask them about it.”
As a qualitative proto-researcher I understand that frustration, of your participants unable to usefully describe or articulate the elements of their experience or practice that you want to explore, and the difficulty of neither leading them nor letting them leave without saying something. So Joanna is all the more frustrated by her inability to capture many of the elements of her own experience, which Richard takes as support for his position that the NDE is a temporal lobe event – the temporal lobe has no connection with the brain’s language centre, and thus no way of articulating. But for Joanna, whose NDE’s built to a fuller, but metaphorical, experience, this focus distracts from her attempts to identify a familiarity she’s certain she has but can’t quite recall.
Her frustration about these teasing almost connections is extremely effectively portrayed – every time she was close to consciously realising what something meant she was interrupted and the fleeting proto-thought vanished again. This aspect was combined with an element that frequently recurs is Willis’s work: as in The Doomsday Book and To Say Nothing of the Dog, in particular, there’s a terrific state of urgency, enhanced by obstacles and people to avoid. While reading the novel I had much the same feeling as one of those dreams where I need to get somewhere in a frantic hurry but am obstructed at every turn. Though caught up in the rush, I also felt irritated by it – the research, though potentially life-saving, didn’t require that kind of immediacy, and I kept being annoyed that Joanna’s priorities were directed toward that rather than the truly time-constrained situation of Maisie, a disaster-obsessed young girl with worsening heart failure.
It is this narrowed, urgent focus that leads to the biggest twist in Passage – having finally discovered the purpose of NDE’s, Joanna frantically searches Mercy General for Richard; hearing that another doctor with whom he’s associated has gone to the ER, where her best friend Vielle works as a senior nurse, she rushes down there. Joanna doesn’t see Richard, but she does see an anxious-looking Vielle talking with a young man – anxious to find Richard and tell him of her discovery, she interrupts the pair, only to find that the young man is armed with a knife, with which he stabs her. As the ER staff swings into action to try to save her, Joanna tries just as desperately to convey the information to Vielle, an effort that she takes with her into her final NDE.
And though I enjoyed Passage as a whole, this is where I detached from the text, because really – apart from the needs of the narrative, what was the rush? There aren’t going to be real world applications of any scientific advance, let alone one as esoteric as this, in anything under a couple of years, so waiting less than an hour for her next scheduled meeting with Richard wouldn’t have delayed anything.
The remaining couple of chapters alternate between Joanna’s new perspective, frantically trying to communicate her findings to Richard before it’s too late, and Richard’s attempts (assisted by Maisie, Vielle, another character whose plot thread I’ve not had space to explore and, unwittingly, Mandrake) to piece together what Joanna did for a missing hour and what relevance it had. This was interesting, and complemented the sense of haste woven through the novel, but I alternated my reading with thinking about what the book would have been like without this twist.
Each chapter opens with a death-related quote, from the last words of historical figures to the last letters of the famous, last messages from lost planes and sunk ships to live reports from broadcasters seeing a tragedy unfold before them. The characters are rounded and well drawn, and I found the research topic fascinating, particularly as it’s related to my own area of academic interest. I’ve yet to have any direct contact with a death survivor who talked about having an NDE, but was prepared to let that aspect go.
Despite its somewhat grim subject matter, there are touches of comedy in Passage. Joanna distresses Richard when, weeding through his participant list looking for Mandrakian ringers, she finds half a dozen who seemed find on Richard’s initial screening but who are True Believers associated with the near-death community, spies for Mandrake, or believe they’ve been abducted by aliens, or otherwise tainted. When Richard, outraged by her revelations, is surprised they weren’t all picked up by the preliminary psych profile, Joanna replies “Believing in the afterlife isn’t a mental illness; a number of major religions have been doing it for centuries.” There is also a romantic undertone, so that although nothing completely develops the reader is left with a strong sense of potential.
I also really enjoyed a thread I alluded to above and haven’t been able to explore here, which involved Mr Briarly, Joanna’s favourite high school teacher, now struggling with Alzheimer’s, and his niece Kit. Both the characters and the situation were beautifully portrayed, and I particularly liked the depiction of Alzheimer’s as a progressive death of personhood. There is also a recurring motif throughout the novel, clear in retrospect, that hints at the purpose of NDE’s; the characters in the book, like this reader, were equally blind to them, and in the last section they were also deaf to Mr Briarly’s remarks that, in a metaphysical communication with Joanna and with the part of him already gone, desperately tried to pass on a message.
I feel as though I’ve failed to capture all the elements of Passage that I’d like to – I haven’t, for example, given Maisie a fraction of the time she deserves, nor her fascination with disasters, the apparently tangential recurring Titanic/disaster motif, or even mentioned the confabulating Mrs Davenport. On the other hand perhaps, by having difficulty directly communicating what I intend, I’m doing Passage greater justice than I think. – Alex
To read Lynn’s review of Passage click here.
Thursday, August 5
Never Look Away - Linwood Barclay
Investigative reporter David Harwood’s been concerned about his wife Jan’s apparent depression – she’s been taking mental health days at work, had a couple of not so accidental accidents, and told him of flirting with the idea of jumping of a nearby bridge. So when she has the idea of a family expedition to the local amusement park David jumps at the idea, even if their four year old son Ethan is more anxious about roller coasters than excited. When Jan loses Ethan, taking her eyes off his stroller for only an instant, David is terrified. The sleeping child is found within minutes, before park security even start looking, but David’s relief is short-lived, because Jan abruptly vanishes. Unlike Ethan, not only does she stay vanished, the preliminary investigation shows no sign of her entering Five Mountains, of booking the tickets, or even of her recent depression. As David looks increasingly like the chief suspect in a domestic crime he tries desperately to make sense of his life, and his marriage.
Barclay’s stock in trade is domestic terror, and Never Look Away is a worthy addition to a fine stable. The reader is quickly aware that David was duped from the beginning, and as the novel unfolds we learn more about Jan’s motivation, alongside David’s increasingly frantic search to uncover the truth and protect his child. There’s also a secondary plot, about a political intrigue David was working on in the lead up to the Five Mountain’s trip, and some nice character development overall. There are a couple of gory moments, but for the most part this is more a psychological suspense and very well done; though not my favourite of his works to date, Barclay off his best nonetheless excels. - Alex
Monday, July 5
The Birthday Present - Barbara Vine
Married Tory MP Ivor Tesham is a rising star in the dying days of the Thatcher government. He also has a keen taste for bondage, and a long-standing affair with Hebe Furnal, the married mother of a young boy. To celebrate Hebe's birthday, in addition to the string of pearls her unaware husband won't be able to distinguish from the costume variety, Ivor sets the scene for the fulfillment of an elaborate fantasy - he hires two men to abduct and bind Hebe then transport her to his cousin's country home for a weekend of adventurous, role-playing sex. What could possibly go wrong?
The Birthday Present is narrated through a combination of Ivor's cousin Rob Delgado's reflections almost two decades later, and diary entries from Hebe's friend Jane, who often provided alibis for the affair. I read a review of the novel soon after its 2008 release, and it's been on my To Read list ever since.
It's significantly disappointing, therefore, that I found The Birthday Present so politically dense that I didn't even make it to the abduction, or even the first mention of it (which is only on page 32 in the copy I had). I didn't like Rob's voice, and that got in the way of my engagement with the text. The unheralded switch from his voice to Jane's diary was obvious by tone but not signalled, and I found that annoying, too. I'm hoping this isn't a sign of the month to come but just an indication of the depth of enjoyment the Seafort saga has provided, and the difficulty other novels will have in comparison. Watch this space! - Alex
The Birthday Present is narrated through a combination of Ivor's cousin Rob Delgado's reflections almost two decades later, and diary entries from Hebe's friend Jane, who often provided alibis for the affair. I read a review of the novel soon after its 2008 release, and it's been on my To Read list ever since.
It's significantly disappointing, therefore, that I found The Birthday Present so politically dense that I didn't even make it to the abduction, or even the first mention of it (which is only on page 32 in the copy I had). I didn't like Rob's voice, and that got in the way of my engagement with the text. The unheralded switch from his voice to Jane's diary was obvious by tone but not signalled, and I found that annoying, too. I'm hoping this isn't a sign of the month to come but just an indication of the depth of enjoyment the Seafort saga has provided, and the difficulty other novels will have in comparison. Watch this space! - Alex
Thursday, February 18
D.L. Wilson: Unholy Grail-A Novel
While researching for her latest book a biblical scholar is shown part of a document supposedly written by James, brother of Jesus, shortly after the crucifixion. Her attempts to authenticate the document lead her to a secret sect within the Jesuit community. But no sooner has she uncovered these guardians of the secret gospel than they start turning up murdered bearing the marks of the stigmata.
Afraid for her life, and those of her informants, she rushes across Europe, accompanied by a Jesuit priest, in a race against time, hoping to find the proof she needs to authenticate the document before the crusading murderer catches up with her.
A series of convoluted coincidences lead her to the very heart of a secret so huge it could smash the foundations of Christianity entirely-if she can prove it to be true.
It is probably unfair to compare this book to the Da Vinci Code but such a comparison is inevitable. Not only does this book have a similar plot (an academic and a researcher racing to stay one step ahead of a fanatical religious assassin while unravelling clues that may prove a blood line of Christ) but it also has similar format (very short chapters, action happening on a number of different fronts, big on tell rather than show) and similar faults (wooden dialogue, two dimensional characters, info dumps).
It also had a few problems all of its own. One stand out is the equal emphasis given to every event in the story. What the characters had for lunch is presented with the same amount of detail as is the murderer planning his next hit. The main characters have the same disagreement (though differently worded) almost every time they speak about the document. And don’t get me started on the idea that a Christian who questions the literality of the Bible is mistaken in their beliefs.
But it would be shooting fish in a barrel to point out the problems with this work, much harder is to pin down why I finished it when I’ve walked away from others of similar quality. I think the thing this book does successfully is keep the reader from getting bored. The short chapters allow for rapid switching of action fronts, information is dumped in spoonfuls rather than by the bucket load and red herrings abound.
Had this book been published before Dan Brown’s breakout novel, it may very well have captured the imagination of religious conspiracy theorists with the same success as his work. Had the author taken time to develop his characters or concepts more they may have stood out from the crowd. As it is this has all been done before, a problem with the entire genre rather than just with this particular book.
Overall this book has a big bang of an opening that didn’t fulfil its promise.-Lynn
Afraid for her life, and those of her informants, she rushes across Europe, accompanied by a Jesuit priest, in a race against time, hoping to find the proof she needs to authenticate the document before the crusading murderer catches up with her.
A series of convoluted coincidences lead her to the very heart of a secret so huge it could smash the foundations of Christianity entirely-if she can prove it to be true.
It is probably unfair to compare this book to the Da Vinci Code but such a comparison is inevitable. Not only does this book have a similar plot (an academic and a researcher racing to stay one step ahead of a fanatical religious assassin while unravelling clues that may prove a blood line of Christ) but it also has similar format (very short chapters, action happening on a number of different fronts, big on tell rather than show) and similar faults (wooden dialogue, two dimensional characters, info dumps).
It also had a few problems all of its own. One stand out is the equal emphasis given to every event in the story. What the characters had for lunch is presented with the same amount of detail as is the murderer planning his next hit. The main characters have the same disagreement (though differently worded) almost every time they speak about the document. And don’t get me started on the idea that a Christian who questions the literality of the Bible is mistaken in their beliefs.
But it would be shooting fish in a barrel to point out the problems with this work, much harder is to pin down why I finished it when I’ve walked away from others of similar quality. I think the thing this book does successfully is keep the reader from getting bored. The short chapters allow for rapid switching of action fronts, information is dumped in spoonfuls rather than by the bucket load and red herrings abound.
Had this book been published before Dan Brown’s breakout novel, it may very well have captured the imagination of religious conspiracy theorists with the same success as his work. Had the author taken time to develop his characters or concepts more they may have stood out from the crowd. As it is this has all been done before, a problem with the entire genre rather than just with this particular book.
Overall this book has a big bang of an opening that didn’t fulfil its promise.-Lynn
Thursday, September 17
J G Sandom: The God Machine
Blurb from the back of the book:
I’m quite fond of the conspiracy theory/thriller/mystery combination so when I discovered this on the recommended reading rack at my library I was delighted. I thought the plot sounded great, if a little Dan Brown-esque. At the point I stopped reading most of the usual suspects had been introduced or strongly foreshadowed: the wounded hero, the morally ambiguous Mason, the sinister Catholic sect, the hypocritical evangelist and the sexy intellectual woman were all there. The plot was only just being set up but it promised to be action packed. So why did I put it down with no intention to ever pick it up again?
Sadly, I quickly discovered that this writer’s voice wasn’t for me. They’d done their research, quite thoroughly too, and they were intent on sharing everything they knew. Not in a discrete seamlessly blended manner that enriches the story but more in a style reminiscent of the recorded lectures you can listen to on self guided tours of historic places.
For example:
It was the home of the Militare Ordine Ospedaliero di San Giovanni di Gerusalemme di Rodi e di Malta, commonly known as the Knight Hopitaller. The Knights of Malta.
Founded in Jerusalem in 1080 by the Blessed Gerard, the order was originally launched to provide care and relief for the poor pilgrims..etc, etc.
It goes on in this vein for another three pages. At which point I stopped reading. I could have overlooked it if it had been a one off. It wasn’t.
I love history but this kind of pace dragging info dump has no place in an action thriller. Particularly in one that is already disjointed by jumping about in time.
Dan Brown’s literary efforts may have all the intellectual merit of my grocery list but at least they’re page turners. Disappointingly, The God Machine doesn’t even offer that.-Lynn
The coded journal of Benjamin Franklin. A hidden map. A legendary gospel. These are the first pieces to an ancient puzzle so powerful, it could destroy the very foundation of Christianity… in a world of secret societies, ancient conspiracies, and Masonic puzzles, locating the prize is one thing-staying alive, another.And so it goes on. I can only assume that the hero solves the puzzles, saves the world and gets the girl but I will never know for sure because I gave up on this one at page 86 (of 468).
I’m quite fond of the conspiracy theory/thriller/mystery combination so when I discovered this on the recommended reading rack at my library I was delighted. I thought the plot sounded great, if a little Dan Brown-esque. At the point I stopped reading most of the usual suspects had been introduced or strongly foreshadowed: the wounded hero, the morally ambiguous Mason, the sinister Catholic sect, the hypocritical evangelist and the sexy intellectual woman were all there. The plot was only just being set up but it promised to be action packed. So why did I put it down with no intention to ever pick it up again?
Sadly, I quickly discovered that this writer’s voice wasn’t for me. They’d done their research, quite thoroughly too, and they were intent on sharing everything they knew. Not in a discrete seamlessly blended manner that enriches the story but more in a style reminiscent of the recorded lectures you can listen to on self guided tours of historic places.
For example:
It was the home of the Militare Ordine Ospedaliero di San Giovanni di Gerusalemme di Rodi e di Malta, commonly known as the Knight Hopitaller. The Knights of Malta.
Founded in Jerusalem in 1080 by the Blessed Gerard, the order was originally launched to provide care and relief for the poor pilgrims..etc, etc.
It goes on in this vein for another three pages. At which point I stopped reading. I could have overlooked it if it had been a one off. It wasn’t.
I love history but this kind of pace dragging info dump has no place in an action thriller. Particularly in one that is already disjointed by jumping about in time.
Dan Brown’s literary efforts may have all the intellectual merit of my grocery list but at least they’re page turners. Disappointingly, The God Machine doesn’t even offer that.-Lynn
Wednesday, August 12
Dexter by Design - Jeff Lindsay
Now married, blood splatter analyst and disciplined serial killer Dexter Morgan has been honeymooning in Paris. Though all the sites were interesting, he was most affected by a performance art piece where a woman gradually amputates her own, living leg. Perhaps this, in combination with his own proclivities, is why he sees differently the gruesome tableaus that await his return to Miami.
The first discovery is of a couple who look as though they're tourists, complete with lairy towels, guidebook, broad smiles (courtesy of glued-on translucent masks) and... body cavities emptied of intestines and filled with a fruit basket in one case and snorkeling gear in the other. While Dexter's sister Deborah, still reeling from his disclosures about his hobby and their father's role in shaping him, is horrified, Dexter senses something different about these deaths. He senses shock value with an agenda, rather than murder for the love of it, and this insight sets him on an separate investigative path.
I was disappointed in Dexter's previous foray, and had some trepidation going in. I was pleasantly surprised by Lindsay's return to form - there's no more talk of Moloch, Watchers or independent evil, and instead we have progress on the fronts I find more interesting - Dexter's ongoing efforts at passing for normal, his reluctant mentorship of his equally dark step-children, the evolution of his sibling relationship, a slip toward the forbidden dark side, and the sprinkling of dark humour that makes reading this series an unexpected joy.
Dexter has a clear, perceptive voice that I really enjoy, and Lindsay balances his perspective with a more conventional one to great effect. For example, after an insight Deborah finds unhelpful:
I hope that this return to form holds true, and look forward to encountering Dexter again, something I thought I would not be able to say this time last year. - Alex
The first discovery is of a couple who look as though they're tourists, complete with lairy towels, guidebook, broad smiles (courtesy of glued-on translucent masks) and... body cavities emptied of intestines and filled with a fruit basket in one case and snorkeling gear in the other. While Dexter's sister Deborah, still reeling from his disclosures about his hobby and their father's role in shaping him, is horrified, Dexter senses something different about these deaths. He senses shock value with an agenda, rather than murder for the love of it, and this insight sets him on an separate investigative path.
I was disappointed in Dexter's previous foray, and had some trepidation going in. I was pleasantly surprised by Lindsay's return to form - there's no more talk of Moloch, Watchers or independent evil, and instead we have progress on the fronts I find more interesting - Dexter's ongoing efforts at passing for normal, his reluctant mentorship of his equally dark step-children, the evolution of his sibling relationship, a slip toward the forbidden dark side, and the sprinkling of dark humour that makes reading this series an unexpected joy.
Dexter has a clear, perceptive voice that I really enjoy, and Lindsay balances his perspective with a more conventional one to great effect. For example, after an insight Deborah finds unhelpful:
I was left alone to suffer in the knowledge that I had failed my sister.
I am sure that suffering would have been terrible if I was capable of feeling remorse, or any other crippling human emotion, but I am not built for it, and so I didn't feel it - or anything else except hunger.
I hope that this return to form holds true, and look forward to encountering Dexter again, something I thought I would not be able to say this time last year. - Alex
Saturday, August 1
Will Kingdom: Mean Spirit
One of the world’s most popular spiritualist mediums is being stalked by a ghost. In desperation she turns to her old mentor, now editor of an ailing paranormal journal, for help. But the truth of her situation isn’t at all straightforward and digging through the layers of deception puts them in the path of a vicious career criminal determined to contact a departed colleague-no matter what that might entail.
This simplistic summary does very little justice to an intriguing and convoluted plot.
I was delighted to find this novel by one of my favourite author’s alter egos (Will Kingdom is Phil Rickman) but equally nervous as to the style of the work (anticipating a divergence from his usual form requiring a different persona). I needn’t have worried. Eerie, funny and terrifying by turns, this thriller really does have it all. Well developed characters, loads of atmosphere and tight suspense, it was everything I could have hoped it would be.
This story stands alone although it is the second book in what may have been intended to be a series, which unfortunately has not eventuated. Luckily there are no loose threads waiting here to be tied up, unluckily these characters seem to have retired. A real shame because there are not enough transvestite ventriloquist Shamans out there and this series would redress that balance.-Lynn
This simplistic summary does very little justice to an intriguing and convoluted plot.
I was delighted to find this novel by one of my favourite author’s alter egos (Will Kingdom is Phil Rickman) but equally nervous as to the style of the work (anticipating a divergence from his usual form requiring a different persona). I needn’t have worried. Eerie, funny and terrifying by turns, this thriller really does have it all. Well developed characters, loads of atmosphere and tight suspense, it was everything I could have hoped it would be.
This story stands alone although it is the second book in what may have been intended to be a series, which unfortunately has not eventuated. Luckily there are no loose threads waiting here to be tied up, unluckily these characters seem to have retired. A real shame because there are not enough transvestite ventriloquist Shamans out there and this series would redress that balance.-Lynn
Sunday, June 21
Safer - Sean Doolittle
Academic Paul Calloway was a little concerned about moving from the security of Boston to a quiet mid-western town, but it's a career opportunity his wife can't pass by. The night they moved in their house, in a quiet suburban cul-de-sac, was broken into and Paul was injured fending off the intruder. While horrifying, the incident had an up side, as Paul and Sara met their neighbours and Paul joined the local neighbourhood patrol, run by former cop Roger Mallory, who lives directly opposite the Calloways. He strikes up friendships, plays golf with a group of mean from the neighbourhood, and settles into tranquility.
When, in the middle of a faculty party he and Sara are throwing, Paul's arrested by the Clarke Falls Police Department, he's understandably shocked. When he learns the charges he's stunned - producing and promoting pornographic images of a child, specifically the thirteen year old daughter of his neighbour. He knows he's innocent, but the evidence against him is strong, and as the truth emerges nobody will escape unscathed.
Safer opens with the arrest, and the rest of the novel alternates between events following and events leading up to the arrest. Narrated in first person, the novel hinges on Paul - his character and his relatability. The nightmare situation he finds himself in is breathtaking, and while the conspiracy ends up being a little far-fetched, the way events unfurl is so breathtaking and suspenseful I only recognised this on later reflection.
If you like a whirlwind pace, shuffled chronology (a technique that's integral to the plot), unexpected twists, suburban terror and intrigue, Safer is for you. Doolittle's written several other novels that I'll be encouraging my library to purchase. Watch this spot. - Alex
When, in the middle of a faculty party he and Sara are throwing, Paul's arrested by the Clarke Falls Police Department, he's understandably shocked. When he learns the charges he's stunned - producing and promoting pornographic images of a child, specifically the thirteen year old daughter of his neighbour. He knows he's innocent, but the evidence against him is strong, and as the truth emerges nobody will escape unscathed.
Safer opens with the arrest, and the rest of the novel alternates between events following and events leading up to the arrest. Narrated in first person, the novel hinges on Paul - his character and his relatability. The nightmare situation he finds himself in is breathtaking, and while the conspiracy ends up being a little far-fetched, the way events unfurl is so breathtaking and suspenseful I only recognised this on later reflection.
If you like a whirlwind pace, shuffled chronology (a technique that's integral to the plot), unexpected twists, suburban terror and intrigue, Safer is for you. Doolittle's written several other novels that I'll be encouraging my library to purchase. Watch this spot. - Alex
Friday, June 19
Look Again – Lisa Scottoline
When reporter Ellen Gleeson encountered an abandoned baby while writing a story of neonatal intensive care she fell in love with the infant recovering from open-heart surgery. Now three, Will is fully recovered and legally hers. With the help of babysitter Connie, Will and Ellen have a harmonious and smoothly-running life, and the biggest clouds on the horizon are lay-offs at work and her forbidden attraction to her boss, Marcelo.
That is until Ellen comes home to a flier about a missing child – age progressed, Timothy Braverman looks enough like Will to be his twin. Though she first puts the similarity out of her mind, Ellen’s instincts won’t let her leave it alone, and she finds herself investigating the missing child’s story and his grieving parents, even to the extent of abandoning her current assignment, a dangerous move with more lay-offs scheduled. The more Ellen discovers the more concerned she becomes that Will and Timothy are the same child, though she can’t work out how. If she’s right then her adoption was fraudulent and her beloved son isn’t hers after all. Torn between truth and love, Ellen has some heart-breakingly difficult decisions to make.
Before I move on to content I have to mention the cover. At first glance it looks as though someone spilled oil over half the hardback cover – the title’s blurred and the red background is stained darker. But when you Look Again the silhouette of an adult looking down at a child looking back up becomes visible – nice tie in!
Most of Scottoline’s novels revolve around a group of women lawyers, so this is something of a departure in that sense. The hallmarks of her other books are present her, though, too – the characters are strong, driven and convincing, and the plot is fresh and gripping.
In other hands this would have been a compelling literary novel – I can see Jodi Picoult, for example, focusing on the competing needs, rights and best interests of the child, his natural parents and his adoptive family. Scottoline’s treatment is compelling in a different way – third person but purely from Ellen’s perspective, she combines the moral aspects with a mystery and a hefty dollop of action, and raises new dilemmas. There are several twists, plenty of suspense, and a little romance to finish it off. This was a satisfying and rewarding experience and I look forward to Scottoline’s next foray. - Alex
That is until Ellen comes home to a flier about a missing child – age progressed, Timothy Braverman looks enough like Will to be his twin. Though she first puts the similarity out of her mind, Ellen’s instincts won’t let her leave it alone, and she finds herself investigating the missing child’s story and his grieving parents, even to the extent of abandoning her current assignment, a dangerous move with more lay-offs scheduled. The more Ellen discovers the more concerned she becomes that Will and Timothy are the same child, though she can’t work out how. If she’s right then her adoption was fraudulent and her beloved son isn’t hers after all. Torn between truth and love, Ellen has some heart-breakingly difficult decisions to make.
Before I move on to content I have to mention the cover. At first glance it looks as though someone spilled oil over half the hardback cover – the title’s blurred and the red background is stained darker. But when you Look Again the silhouette of an adult looking down at a child looking back up becomes visible – nice tie in!
Most of Scottoline’s novels revolve around a group of women lawyers, so this is something of a departure in that sense. The hallmarks of her other books are present her, though, too – the characters are strong, driven and convincing, and the plot is fresh and gripping.
In other hands this would have been a compelling literary novel – I can see Jodi Picoult, for example, focusing on the competing needs, rights and best interests of the child, his natural parents and his adoptive family. Scottoline’s treatment is compelling in a different way – third person but purely from Ellen’s perspective, she combines the moral aspects with a mystery and a hefty dollop of action, and raises new dilemmas. There are several twists, plenty of suspense, and a little romance to finish it off. This was a satisfying and rewarding experience and I look forward to Scottoline’s next foray. - Alex
Wednesday, June 10
Runner - Thomas Perry
Jane Whitefield gave away helping people escape their pursuers when she married her New York surgeon husband, and she embraced her new life of fund-raising and support gladly. The habits of a lifetime are a little harder to lose, though, and despite herself Jane notices suspicious behaviour from the kitchen staff at a charity night hosted by Carey’s hospital. Before she can investigate a bomb explodes, creating confusion and chaos. In the midst of the aftermath a desperate, pregnant young girl seeking assistance approaches Jane. Despite her promise Jane is compelled to help her, in a world where forging a new identity is harder than ever, and with a foe who is not only determined to track down his quarry but who has the resources to back it up.
Jane is one of my all-time favourite characters and it’s a delight to have return from retirement. As with the rest of the series, Perry combines a fast-paced plot with strong characterisation and convincing detail. Jane’s character is rooted in her Native American culture - the lore and traditions of both her tribe and those of other Native American cultures are threaded through the plot.
Christine, the runner, is flawed but determined, and I became sufficiently involved with her story that I actually spoke aloud (“no, no!”) when she did something stupid but plot-necessary. The behaviour that triggered my outburst was understandable and I liked that she took action instead of waiting passively for rescue.
I also liked that, despite the potential cost to Jane’s marriage and family life, Perry finishes Runner with the possibility of another Jane Whitefield novel. Bring it on! – Alex
Click here for a review of the first Jane Whitefield novel, Vanishing Act
Jane is one of my all-time favourite characters and it’s a delight to have return from retirement. As with the rest of the series, Perry combines a fast-paced plot with strong characterisation and convincing detail. Jane’s character is rooted in her Native American culture - the lore and traditions of both her tribe and those of other Native American cultures are threaded through the plot.
Christine, the runner, is flawed but determined, and I became sufficiently involved with her story that I actually spoke aloud (“no, no!”) when she did something stupid but plot-necessary. The behaviour that triggered my outburst was understandable and I liked that she took action instead of waiting passively for rescue.
I also liked that, despite the potential cost to Jane’s marriage and family life, Perry finishes Runner with the possibility of another Jane Whitefield novel. Bring it on! – Alex
Click here for a review of the first Jane Whitefield novel, Vanishing Act
Sunday, March 22
The Mystery of Breathing - Perri Klass
Neonatologist Maggie Claymore is devoted to her career, to the saving of the youngest and most innocent of lives. Her life is orderly and controlled - she rotates between the clinical service and research, her marriage (to Dan, a doctor she met when they were both medical students) is sound despite their inability to conceive, and they share their home with her best friend Sarah (a medical school drop out) and her two-year-old daughter Penelope.
Maggie likes her life, a far cry from her impoverished childhood to single mother Annalisa. When she receives an anonymous letter that breathlessly accuses her of falsifying information and being dangerous, it comes out of left field. Unable to dismiss it but equally unable to report it, Maggie begins to suspect those around her. As the harassment escalates the author takes up more and more of her time, affecting the way she speaks to people and her concern about the way she's perceived. Then posters start to go up, and the hospital hires an investigator, but the campaign is beginning to affect Maggie in ways neither she nor her nemesis could have predicted.
This could have been a taut, Joy-Fieldesque suspense novel, but Klass (a pediatrician and medical writer) has gone a more literary route. The text combines flash-backs to Maggie's childhood, the occasional flash-forward of (presumably) Maggie's future, and from about two thirds in, scenes from her harasser's perspective, including his/her underlying motivation (very little of which has anything to do with Maggie herself and much to do with what she represents).
The medical details are strong and decisive, even to someone with a health care background, with enough detail to convince without belabouring the point; they're so well integrated that it's clear this is the environment of the author rather than information researched for verisimilitude. The contrast in learning interest between medical students (will this be on the exam?) and interns (will this be something that could help me save a patient's life?) is one such example, and she accurately recreates an insider's perspective of hospital life.
Klass has a sure and decisive writing style that suits her protagonist, and which reminded me somewhat of Chris Bohjalian, though some of that may be the female-medical-provider-under-pressure context.
There are odd light moments from time to time (like the aside that, though Sarah dropped out, their medical school "
Mostly, though, The Mystery of Breathing is humourless and literary. This is not to say that it wasn't compelling or interesting, and I found her analyses of hospital politics, particularly neonatal conflicts (and rules, like the inevitable failure to thrive of multimillion dollar IVF babies versus the irrepressible survival of the unwanted products of casual flings by drug-using minors) were enlightening.
The Mystery of Breathing is a gendered novel - it's no coincidence that both the protagonist and the investigator are women, and the reader is left wondering how the hospital administration would have reacted to a male doctor being similarly harassed. Though, as the perpetrator shies away from acknowledging (but Klass draws out), the preoccupation of women with how they're perceived, of needing to be liked and seen as nice, plays a significant role:
I was both involved in, and felt separate from The Mystery of Breathing, and am not sure whether or not I like it, which is always an annoying position in which to find oneself. I certainly found the ending unsatisfying, unsatisfactory and a little disjointed, but that's how you know it's literature. I have another of Klass's novels at home, and though I'll wait a while before tackling the next there's no question that I'll do so before it's due back at the library. - Alex
Maggie likes her life, a far cry from her impoverished childhood to single mother Annalisa. When she receives an anonymous letter that breathlessly accuses her of falsifying information and being dangerous, it comes out of left field. Unable to dismiss it but equally unable to report it, Maggie begins to suspect those around her. As the harassment escalates the author takes up more and more of her time, affecting the way she speaks to people and her concern about the way she's perceived. Then posters start to go up, and the hospital hires an investigator, but the campaign is beginning to affect Maggie in ways neither she nor her nemesis could have predicted.
This could have been a taut, Joy-Fieldesque suspense novel, but Klass (a pediatrician and medical writer) has gone a more literary route. The text combines flash-backs to Maggie's childhood, the occasional flash-forward of (presumably) Maggie's future, and from about two thirds in, scenes from her harasser's perspective, including his/her underlying motivation (very little of which has anything to do with Maggie herself and much to do with what she represents).
The medical details are strong and decisive, even to someone with a health care background, with enough detail to convince without belabouring the point; they're so well integrated that it's clear this is the environment of the author rather than information researched for verisimilitude. The contrast in learning interest between medical students (will this be on the exam?) and interns (will this be something that could help me save a patient's life?) is one such example, and she accurately recreates an insider's perspective of hospital life.
Klass has a sure and decisive writing style that suits her protagonist, and which reminded me somewhat of Chris Bohjalian, though some of that may be the female-medical-provider-under-pressure context.
There are odd light moments from time to time (like the aside that, though Sarah dropped out, their medical school "
sticking by its unofficial motto, Hard to Get In, Impossible to Get Out, did not let her go; they told her that she was on an extended leave of absence, and when the time was right, she could of course come back and finish.Klass has all too clearly attended mandatory team building workshops where creating Necklaces of Need and Stockings of Support have robbed her of time better spent doing actually useful work - having been there, too, I was impatient as Maggie for those scenes to be over!
Mostly, though, The Mystery of Breathing is humourless and literary. This is not to say that it wasn't compelling or interesting, and I found her analyses of hospital politics, particularly neonatal conflicts (and rules, like the inevitable failure to thrive of multimillion dollar IVF babies versus the irrepressible survival of the unwanted products of casual flings by drug-using minors) were enlightening.
The Mystery of Breathing is a gendered novel - it's no coincidence that both the protagonist and the investigator are women, and the reader is left wondering how the hospital administration would have reacted to a male doctor being similarly harassed. Though, as the perpetrator shies away from acknowledging (but Klass draws out), the preoccupation of women with how they're perceived, of needing to be liked and seen as nice, plays a significant role:
[her tormentor] wouldn't bother sending [ male doctor] the messages that [s/he] was quite sure had helped unhinge Maggie.. would not have been able to explain [the] sense that [he] would be at most mildly perturbed by letters telling him everyone hated him and no one trusted him as a doctor. [He] might be irritated, but on some very profound level, would not give a real big flying fuck(I apologise for the bracketing, but on the off-chance you read it, the slow reveal of the identity of the poison pen writer significantly ads to the suspense).
I was both involved in, and felt separate from The Mystery of Breathing, and am not sure whether or not I like it, which is always an annoying position in which to find oneself. I certainly found the ending unsatisfying, unsatisfactory and a little disjointed, but that's how you know it's literature. I have another of Klass's novels at home, and though I'll wait a while before tackling the next there's no question that I'll do so before it's due back at the library. - Alex
Monday, December 29
Douglas Preston: Blasphemy
The world’s largest supercollider was designed by a Nobel laureate to recreate the very moment of the big bang but nobody knows for sure what will happen when the machine is turned on.
The scientists working with the machine hope it will unlock the mysteries of the universe, others warn it could all go horribly wrong and suck the earth into a miniature black hole, while a superstar televangelist has convinced his followers the machine is an attempt to disprove genesis and that its designer is the Antichrist.
When government officials notice that the machine has been drawing power but the scientists on site insist that it is not yet operational they send in a man undercover to discover what the scientists are trying to hide.
He finds out that the scientists believe a hacker has implanted a chatterbot program that can pass the Turin test into their software and they want to find it before they make a report to save themselves an excess of embarrassment. But they can’t locate the program and as time goes on they come to believe that they are not seeking an example of artificial intelligence at all but have made contact with God.
Word leaks out and fundamentalist Christians band together and head to the Arizona desert, where the machine is located deep underground, believing they are about to commence the battle of Armageddon. They succeed in destroying the machine and killing its creator.
But they fail to kill all of the scientists working on the project. Those scientists take the printouts of the machine and present them as the words of God founding a new religion based on pure science.
Only one man alive knows the truth behind those conversations with God and he is not entirely sure whether the words are in fact those of God or not.
If you’re looking for meaningful discourse on the science vs religion debate, look elsewhere this is not the book for you.
But if you’re happy to overlook a few plot holes and inconsistencies in pursuit of a fast paced, philosophy-lite, Da Vinci Code-esque thriller then go no further here it is! Though I think it better than that other work in spite of the abundance of clichés both overt and implied (fundamentalist Christians=bad, scientists=eccentrics + altruists + humanitarians, Catholic ‘rewarded’ for standing by his faith, Navajo only people truly in touch with the spiritual), the main character being two dimensional and the behaviour of the scientists not holding up to close examination.
The pace is maintained by a combination of very short chapters and having action taking place on four fronts making it quite a fast read. I found its most redeeming feature to be the occasional humorous touch (usually at the expense of fans of the Left Behind series). I would read more of this author. He’s good if you’re in the mood for a light conspiracy theory but only if you can suspend your disbelief for the duration.-Lynn
The scientists working with the machine hope it will unlock the mysteries of the universe, others warn it could all go horribly wrong and suck the earth into a miniature black hole, while a superstar televangelist has convinced his followers the machine is an attempt to disprove genesis and that its designer is the Antichrist.
When government officials notice that the machine has been drawing power but the scientists on site insist that it is not yet operational they send in a man undercover to discover what the scientists are trying to hide.
He finds out that the scientists believe a hacker has implanted a chatterbot program that can pass the Turin test into their software and they want to find it before they make a report to save themselves an excess of embarrassment. But they can’t locate the program and as time goes on they come to believe that they are not seeking an example of artificial intelligence at all but have made contact with God.
Word leaks out and fundamentalist Christians band together and head to the Arizona desert, where the machine is located deep underground, believing they are about to commence the battle of Armageddon. They succeed in destroying the machine and killing its creator.
But they fail to kill all of the scientists working on the project. Those scientists take the printouts of the machine and present them as the words of God founding a new religion based on pure science.
Only one man alive knows the truth behind those conversations with God and he is not entirely sure whether the words are in fact those of God or not.
If you’re looking for meaningful discourse on the science vs religion debate, look elsewhere this is not the book for you.
But if you’re happy to overlook a few plot holes and inconsistencies in pursuit of a fast paced, philosophy-lite, Da Vinci Code-esque thriller then go no further here it is! Though I think it better than that other work in spite of the abundance of clichés both overt and implied (fundamentalist Christians=bad, scientists=eccentrics + altruists + humanitarians, Catholic ‘rewarded’ for standing by his faith, Navajo only people truly in touch with the spiritual), the main character being two dimensional and the behaviour of the scientists not holding up to close examination.
The pace is maintained by a combination of very short chapters and having action taking place on four fronts making it quite a fast read. I found its most redeeming feature to be the occasional humorous touch (usually at the expense of fans of the Left Behind series). I would read more of this author. He’s good if you’re in the mood for a light conspiracy theory but only if you can suspend your disbelief for the duration.-Lynn
Sunday, December 28
24 Hours - Greg Isles
24 Hours opens with the kidnapping of a young boy, who is safely returned to his family after a ransom is paid, with the warning that they'll be back to kill the child if the police ever hear of it. The kidnapping itself is polished, performed by a team who clearly know what they're doing. A year later it happens all over again - Abby Jennings, also the child of a Mississipi physician, is kidnapped while her father's out of town at a conference. This time, though, things don't go quite as well as the kidnappers (cold leader Joe Hickey, his girlfriend Cheryl and his loyal, large and mildly retarded cousin Huey) expect.
Fast-paced, relatively plausible if a little predictable, 24 Hours is an absorbing read primarily because of the interactions between the characters - Will and his wife Karen, whose marriage is already a little rocky; Huey and Abby; Cheryl and Joe; Cheryl and Will; and Will and Joe. Isles has imbued all his characters with a level of multidimensionality that made me eager to see what would happen next, and why they behaved the way they did. - Alex
Fast-paced, relatively plausible if a little predictable, 24 Hours is an absorbing read primarily because of the interactions between the characters - Will and his wife Karen, whose marriage is already a little rocky; Huey and Abby; Cheryl and Joe; Cheryl and Will; and Will and Joe. Isles has imbued all his characters with a level of multidimensionality that made me eager to see what would happen next, and why they behaved the way they did. - Alex
Sunday, December 21
Into the Storm – Suzanne Brockmann
As Navy SEAL team 18 prepare to go head-to-head with Troubleshooters Incorporated, a private industry organization headed by the SEAL’s ex-commander and manned by former operatives and cops, snow is falling in the remote woods chosen. Deliberately isolated, out of easy communication, designed to reflect real-life operations, the challenge is a way of honing both teams’ skills. On standby for real missions in the Middle East, the SEAls are pulled mid-way through the practice run; it’s not until they leave that anyone realises the ‘hostage,’ a particularly pretty and dippy Troubleshooters office worker, is really missing. With no survivalist skills, inadequately dressed, and unpredictable, things look bad for Tracey Shapiro. Then the searchers discover she’s been abducted by a serial killer, and the pressure’s really on.
A second arm to Brockmann’s highly successful SEAL series, the Troubleshooter novels operate on a more domestic front, but are no less absorbing. The extensive case combines buff bodies, distinctive personalities and humour with enduring character arcs and romance. Her heroines are as gutsy and resilient as the men, genuine respect and affection are a constant, and I always come away feeling satisfied. I realised though, when I checked through the reviews here, that I haven't read a Brockmann novel since Lynn and I first began writing the reviews, which makes me feel a little better about my planned frenzy.
Though Into the Storm could be read as a standalone, a significant part of my satisfaction is anchored in familiarity with the series and the characters – we’re given glimpses at the chief protagonists of previous novels, the beginnings of romantic entanglements for stories to come, and there’s always something going on behind the scenes. Unlike many romance writers, you often have to wait for the pay-off – in the original SEAL series, one romance was fed along as a secondary plot line for six or so books. I have a need to read series in order, which is the only thing stopping me from diving into the next book I have from the library, as I impatiently wait for my reservation on the intervening novel. Watch this space. - Alex
A second arm to Brockmann’s highly successful SEAL series, the Troubleshooter novels operate on a more domestic front, but are no less absorbing. The extensive case combines buff bodies, distinctive personalities and humour with enduring character arcs and romance. Her heroines are as gutsy and resilient as the men, genuine respect and affection are a constant, and I always come away feeling satisfied. I realised though, when I checked through the reviews here, that I haven't read a Brockmann novel since Lynn and I first began writing the reviews, which makes me feel a little better about my planned frenzy.
Though Into the Storm could be read as a standalone, a significant part of my satisfaction is anchored in familiarity with the series and the characters – we’re given glimpses at the chief protagonists of previous novels, the beginnings of romantic entanglements for stories to come, and there’s always something going on behind the scenes. Unlike many romance writers, you often have to wait for the pay-off – in the original SEAL series, one romance was fed along as a secondary plot line for six or so books. I have a need to read series in order, which is the only thing stopping me from diving into the next book I have from the library, as I impatiently wait for my reservation on the intervening novel. Watch this space. - Alex
Friday, December 19
Bones – Jonathan Kellerman
LA therapist and police consultant Alex Delaware is with Milo or, as the LAPD have recently titled him, Special Case Investigator, Lieutenant Grade, when his friend is called to a marsh where the body of a young woman has been found, following an anonymous tip. Selena Bass, her right hand amputated and missing, was the piano teacher of gifted child Kelvin Vander, son of a wealthy and doting father, product of a second marriage. Investigating the deaths of Selena and three other women, whose variously decomposed bodies are also found in the marsh, Alex and Milo discover that Kelvin and his parents are also missing, and the case becomes interesting.
The twenty-something addition to a usually strong series, this is classic Kellerman – deepening mysteries, wheels within wheels, believable but twisty characters, and subtly nuanced attention to the underlying arcs of his main protagonists. Though not formulaic exactly, there weren’t any truly unique elements, but Kellerman’s writing reads effortlessly, his descriptive characterisation is deft, and the pace is believable and just shy of hectic, so the reader is drawn in and engaged.
I suspect familiarity with the author and his characters’ somewhat complex back stories add a strong dimension to the series, so if you’re just starting out with Kellerman you really are better off starting at the beginning. If you like the genre, particularly the novels of White and McDermid (creators, respectively, of psychologist investigators Alan Gregory and Tony Hill) then you’ll like Kellerman – I prefer them, and Kellerman's wife's novels, but he’s still pretty good. And unlike other writers I could mention, he’s managed to maintain a believable, involving and interesting character without jumping the shark. Plus there’s a nice section and coda on eyedness (sinister and dexter), and area that, like footedness, I’m interested in, and expanding ones’ miscellaneous knowledge base is always a pleasant incidental plus to reading for enjoyment. - Alex
The twenty-something addition to a usually strong series, this is classic Kellerman – deepening mysteries, wheels within wheels, believable but twisty characters, and subtly nuanced attention to the underlying arcs of his main protagonists. Though not formulaic exactly, there weren’t any truly unique elements, but Kellerman’s writing reads effortlessly, his descriptive characterisation is deft, and the pace is believable and just shy of hectic, so the reader is drawn in and engaged.
I suspect familiarity with the author and his characters’ somewhat complex back stories add a strong dimension to the series, so if you’re just starting out with Kellerman you really are better off starting at the beginning. If you like the genre, particularly the novels of White and McDermid (creators, respectively, of psychologist investigators Alan Gregory and Tony Hill) then you’ll like Kellerman – I prefer them, and Kellerman's wife's novels, but he’s still pretty good. And unlike other writers I could mention, he’s managed to maintain a believable, involving and interesting character without jumping the shark. Plus there’s a nice section and coda on eyedness (sinister and dexter), and area that, like footedness, I’m interested in, and expanding ones’ miscellaneous knowledge base is always a pleasant incidental plus to reading for enjoyment. - Alex
Friday, October 3
No Time for Goodbye – Linwood Barclay
When Cynthia Bigge was fifteen her parents and older brother disappeared from the family home overnight, silently and without a trace. Twenty-five years on, she’s still haunted by the loss and convinced that they may still be alive. Hypervigilant about her own daughter’s safety, Cynthia watches for signs of her family all around. When she participates in a sensationalist TV program, hoping that it will help someone remember a vital detail, or even stir her family to contact her, odd things start to happen – a hat just like her father’s appears on the kitchen table, notes arrive in the house, and Cynthia sees the same brown car in the street. Her husband is supportive but grows increasingly concerned. Are these events real, or is Cynthia losing her mind. What did happen that night? And why was Cynthia spared?
All these questions would be considerably more suspenseful if it were not for the periodic insertion of two-page, italicised discussions between two unnamed characters who clearly know what happened and are involved in the current drama. The novel gains nothing from this device, which deviates from the rest of the novel’s first person narration from Cynthia’s husband Terry’s perspective. What it loses, however, is significant – a substantial amount of suspense and quite probably (I can’t rule out guessing the motive anyway) the reason for the initial disappearance.
The novel’s not without its redeeming features – I particularly likes the sections with alleged psychic Ceylon, and the conflict for Terry is delicately portrayed. It’s just that so much of the point of the book, the suspense of not only what happened but whether Cynthia’s (consciously or not) behind the contemporary events, and possibly even the original disappearance, is so heavily eroded by the third-person sections that No Time for Goodbye loses almost all its oomph.
The ending is a little convoluted but satisfying, complete with growth and a tear-jerking conclusion, but next time Barclay would do better if he refrained from undermining his own good writing. - Alex
All these questions would be considerably more suspenseful if it were not for the periodic insertion of two-page, italicised discussions between two unnamed characters who clearly know what happened and are involved in the current drama. The novel gains nothing from this device, which deviates from the rest of the novel’s first person narration from Cynthia’s husband Terry’s perspective. What it loses, however, is significant – a substantial amount of suspense and quite probably (I can’t rule out guessing the motive anyway) the reason for the initial disappearance.
The novel’s not without its redeeming features – I particularly likes the sections with alleged psychic Ceylon, and the conflict for Terry is delicately portrayed. It’s just that so much of the point of the book, the suspense of not only what happened but whether Cynthia’s (consciously or not) behind the contemporary events, and possibly even the original disappearance, is so heavily eroded by the third-person sections that No Time for Goodbye loses almost all its oomph.
The ending is a little convoluted but satisfying, complete with growth and a tear-jerking conclusion, but next time Barclay would do better if he refrained from undermining his own good writing. - Alex
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