by Raymond Benson
After putting his mother into a home for Alzheimer's patients, Martin Talbot learns that she, Judy Cooper, was once the Black Stiletto, a masked vigilante active during the 1950s and 60s. A middle-aged accountant with limited imagination, Martin has trouble picturing his mother as a crimefighter, but thanks to a series of diaries she kept he is able to explore her amazing life. Meanwhile, an old enemy of the Black Stiletto has just been released from prison, and he's hellbent on finding her and getting revenge.The dialogue – whether the conversation is in the 1950s or the 2000s – sounds stilted and wooden. This was a bit of a problem for me. It made me wonder, though, if this book might have worked better as a graphic novel or a TV show script – that is,as something visual. There's a lot of action when Judy begins her career as the Black Stiletto, and those scenes are fun. I mean, a lot of her story isawfully convenient...Judy runs away to the big city and just HAPPENS to make friends with the owner of a gym who teaches her to box, and she just HAPPENS to be super strong and agile and intuitive and really, really hot, too. But I like Judy. She suffers a lot of setbacks – Judy loses her family, her lover and very nearly her life - but she stays strong without getting all dark and mopey about it a la Batman.
Whenever the story flashes forward to the present, and Martin takes over the narration, the momentum comes screeching to a halt. Martin comes across as whiny – he's always nagging his child to take up a 'safe' career or complaining about how terrible and inconvenient it is that his mother had this secret life – and so I found him difficult to stomach. He really weakened the modern day story, which was already suffering because, let's face it, the threatened smackdown between a geriatric ex-con and an old woman suffering dementia isn't exactly epic.
It's a neat idea, and author Raymond Benson clearly intends to make a series from this story...a book for every year of the diaries, I presume. There are several mysterious objects hidden with the diaries, like a JFK campaign button and a locket and a gold key. Since none of them played a role in this book I assume they will be key points in future novels, since the author made a point of mentioning them twice. If this is the case, I hope Raymond will consider cutting the character of Martin. Or, even better, replace Martin with his daughter, Gina. Although she only showed up a few times in the story, she was far more interesting than her father, and she seems to be in sync with her grandmother, too, so she'd probably do a much stronger job of connecting the reader and the present-day Judy to the Black Stiletto.
Bedbugs: A Novel
by Ben H. Winters
After quitting her job as an attorney to return to her paint and canvas, Susan finds her creativity completely stifled. She decides that what she needs is a change of scenery, and convinces her husband Alex to move. They find a perfect little brownstone apartment run by a friendly old widow named Andrea. It's a convenient commute for Alex, it's affordable, and there's even an extra “secret” room that Susan can use for a studio. As she's settling in, however, Susan becomes convinced that the house is infested with bedbugs, infestations of which are happening all over New England. They're biting her, leaving itchy red marks that she scratches 'til they're raw. But it seems that Susan is the only one affected...neither Alex nor her daughter, Emma, get a single bite. Is there house infested with devilishly clever bugs, or is Susan simply cracking under the pressure of trying to rekindle her creativity?
Bugs are inherently creepy to me, and a horror novel about a bug infestation is far more effective at keeping me awake at night than, say, an ax murderer. I mean, I can see the ax murderer coming, whereas there could be thousands of bugs hiding in the dark corners of my house and I'd never, ever know. So I thought that a horror novel about them had definite scary potential. Add in the terror of bedbugs – I had to deal with them briefly this summer, while visiting Florence – and it's the stuff of nightmares.
I found that I could identify quite easily with Susan, the main character. She's got a lot of balls that she's trying to keep in the air: she's raising her daughter Emma, she's feeling guilty because she can pursue her dreams of being an artist while her husband works a job he doesn't like to pay the bills, she can't seem to find her creative spark, she needs to cook and clean and keep the apartment in good shape, and her family's being plagued by bedbugs. Although it quickly becomes clear that Susan's not always thinking clearly, I can always understand and sympathize with her, even when she's clearly overreacting and acting like a nutcase.
Winters does a good job of balancing his narrative just right, so that it isn't clear until the final chapters whether Susan's going mad or if the house is full of the bedbugs from hell. His ghastly tale is a quick, easy read that left me feeling rather itchy and paranoid that little creepy crawlies are everywhere...
by Ben H. Winters
After quitting her job as an attorney to return to her paint and canvas, Susan finds her creativity completely stifled. She decides that what she needs is a change of scenery, and convinces her husband Alex to move. They find a perfect little brownstone apartment run by a friendly old widow named Andrea. It's a convenient commute for Alex, it's affordable, and there's even an extra “secret” room that Susan can use for a studio. As she's settling in, however, Susan becomes convinced that the house is infested with bedbugs, infestations of which are happening all over New England. They're biting her, leaving itchy red marks that she scratches 'til they're raw. But it seems that Susan is the only one affected...neither Alex nor her daughter, Emma, get a single bite. Is there house infested with devilishly clever bugs, or is Susan simply cracking under the pressure of trying to rekindle her creativity?Bugs are inherently creepy to me, and a horror novel about a bug infestation is far more effective at keeping me awake at night than, say, an ax murderer. I mean, I can see the ax murderer coming, whereas there could be thousands of bugs hiding in the dark corners of my house and I'd never, ever know. So I thought that a horror novel about them had definite scary potential. Add in the terror of bedbugs – I had to deal with them briefly this summer, while visiting Florence – and it's the stuff of nightmares.
I found that I could identify quite easily with Susan, the main character. She's got a lot of balls that she's trying to keep in the air: she's raising her daughter Emma, she's feeling guilty because she can pursue her dreams of being an artist while her husband works a job he doesn't like to pay the bills, she can't seem to find her creative spark, she needs to cook and clean and keep the apartment in good shape, and her family's being plagued by bedbugs. Although it quickly becomes clear that Susan's not always thinking clearly, I can always understand and sympathize with her, even when she's clearly overreacting and acting like a nutcase.
Winters does a good job of balancing his narrative just right, so that it isn't clear until the final chapters whether Susan's going mad or if the house is full of the bedbugs from hell. His ghastly tale is a quick, easy read that left me feeling rather itchy and paranoid that little creepy crawlies are everywhere...
The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson #5)
by Rick Riordan
Fifth and final book in the Percy Jackson series:
The Lightning Thief
The Sea of Monsters
The Titan’s Curse
The Battle of the Labyrinth
The Titan Kronos has succeeded in gathering his troops, and launches an attack on Manhattan, headquarters of the Olympian gods. The gods are occupied with Typhon, a powerful monster that has been unleashed on the West Coast, so it's up to Percy Jackson and his fellow half-bloods to protect New York City. Percy, who has bathed in the River Styx, is nearly invincible on the battlefield, but the kids from Camp Half-Blood are vastly outnumbered. When negotiations with Prometheus for a ceasefire fail, the deadliest, bloodiest battle between the demigods and the Titans begins.
Several scenes from the battle allude to the Trojan War. Percy's new indestructibility thanks to the River Styx is not the only reference to Achilles; the children of Mars refuse to fight until an imposter impersonates their leader, Clarisse. Later, after slaying a major Titan warrior, Clarisse parades its body by dragging it behind her chariot a la Achilles and Hector.
As always, Percy fully embraces the hero role. It seems like he's slicing and dicing his way through monsters on every page. But he's not the only one. It seems like every kid is given their moment to shine, through a glorious victory or a noble death. A lot of the motivation behind the “bad” kids' actions are revealed, reminding us that this isn't a black and white battle between pure good and pure evil. The gods have done a lot to deserve punishment over the years, and the anger of the Titans/traitor half-bloods is based on some genuine grievances.
The Last Olympian was a very satisfying finale to the Percy Jackson series. It ties up most of the loose ends, but doesn't entirely shut the door to the universe, which makes sense - it isn't the absolute last book set in this world. Rick Riordan is working on a second “Heroes of Olympus” series, and I'm pretty sure his Kane Chronicles series co-exists in the same universe, too.
by Rick Riordan
Fifth and final book in the Percy Jackson series:
The Lightning Thief
The Sea of Monsters
The Titan’s Curse
The Battle of the Labyrinth
The Titan Kronos has succeeded in gathering his troops, and launches an attack on Manhattan, headquarters of the Olympian gods. The gods are occupied with Typhon, a powerful monster that has been unleashed on the West Coast, so it's up to Percy Jackson and his fellow half-bloods to protect New York City. Percy, who has bathed in the River Styx, is nearly invincible on the battlefield, but the kids from Camp Half-Blood are vastly outnumbered. When negotiations with Prometheus for a ceasefire fail, the deadliest, bloodiest battle between the demigods and the Titans begins.Several scenes from the battle allude to the Trojan War. Percy's new indestructibility thanks to the River Styx is not the only reference to Achilles; the children of Mars refuse to fight until an imposter impersonates their leader, Clarisse. Later, after slaying a major Titan warrior, Clarisse parades its body by dragging it behind her chariot a la Achilles and Hector.
As always, Percy fully embraces the hero role. It seems like he's slicing and dicing his way through monsters on every page. But he's not the only one. It seems like every kid is given their moment to shine, through a glorious victory or a noble death. A lot of the motivation behind the “bad” kids' actions are revealed, reminding us that this isn't a black and white battle between pure good and pure evil. The gods have done a lot to deserve punishment over the years, and the anger of the Titans/traitor half-bloods is based on some genuine grievances.
The Last Olympian was a very satisfying finale to the Percy Jackson series. It ties up most of the loose ends, but doesn't entirely shut the door to the universe, which makes sense - it isn't the absolute last book set in this world. Rick Riordan is working on a second “Heroes of Olympus” series, and I'm pretty sure his Kane Chronicles series co-exists in the same universe, too.
Lost Voices
by Sarah Porter
This is the first book in a proposed trilogy.
Luce has been living with her uncle ever since her father disappeared at sea during a storm. The brothers weren't close, but he's the only family Luce has. Whenever he gets drunk, however, her uncle turns abusive. One night, after he attempts to rape the fourteen year old girl, she realizes she can't return home, and ends up falling off a cliff into the sea. Instead of dying, however, Luce is transformed into a mermaid, and rescued by the leader of a tribe (a pod? a school?) of mermaids. These aren't the flirty, fun-loving mermaids of Disney cartoons, though; a mermaid is born from the heart of a girl who has experienced the darkest moments humanity has to offer, and what she wants is revenge on the world that created her. Like the sirens of mythology, the mermaids drag sailors to their watery graves by enchanting them with beautiful songs. Luce doesn't want to kill, but she doesn't want to lose her new friends, either – and she just may be the greatest singer to join her tribe in generations. Will she use her gift to bring ever-greater numbers of ships to the bottom of the sea, or will she challenge the mermaid Queen Caterina for the right to lead the tribe?
This was a very dark story, and I loved it for that reason. Becoming a mermaid might “save” a girl from a horrible life on shore, but she sacrifices so much to gain it. As I said, the mermaids' goal is to kill as many men, women and children as they can without getting caught; and those who refuse to participate are cast out of the tribe. Solitary mermaids don't tend to last long; they make tasty snacks for orcas and sharks. Mermaids also don't grow older; if a child is 'turned' when she is eight, she will stay eight years old forever. Girls who join the mermaids are also sacrificing any future chance at love - for some reason, the change doesn't work on boys, so there are no mermen. Finally, there's no way back – while a mermaid will regain her legs if she leaves the water, the process causes extreme pain and she'll die before the transformation is complete. It's a terrible, agonizing death.
The one big problem – and it was huge - was the foundation of the mythology. Why do only abused girls become mermaids? What triggers the transformation? (In some cases, the mermaids can force a transformation when they sing, but at other times it happens rather randomly, miles from the ocean.) If an abused girl dies and her body is found buried in a psycho's backyard, or whatever, does that mean she wasn't worthy to be a mermaid? How does that work? I hope that this is addressed in future books; the way it was glazed over in the first volume felt very sketchy and incomplete.
by Sarah Porter
This is the first book in a proposed trilogy.
Luce has been living with her uncle ever since her father disappeared at sea during a storm. The brothers weren't close, but he's the only family Luce has. Whenever he gets drunk, however, her uncle turns abusive. One night, after he attempts to rape the fourteen year old girl, she realizes she can't return home, and ends up falling off a cliff into the sea. Instead of dying, however, Luce is transformed into a mermaid, and rescued by the leader of a tribe (a pod? a school?) of mermaids. These aren't the flirty, fun-loving mermaids of Disney cartoons, though; a mermaid is born from the heart of a girl who has experienced the darkest moments humanity has to offer, and what she wants is revenge on the world that created her. Like the sirens of mythology, the mermaids drag sailors to their watery graves by enchanting them with beautiful songs. Luce doesn't want to kill, but she doesn't want to lose her new friends, either – and she just may be the greatest singer to join her tribe in generations. Will she use her gift to bring ever-greater numbers of ships to the bottom of the sea, or will she challenge the mermaid Queen Caterina for the right to lead the tribe?This was a very dark story, and I loved it for that reason. Becoming a mermaid might “save” a girl from a horrible life on shore, but she sacrifices so much to gain it. As I said, the mermaids' goal is to kill as many men, women and children as they can without getting caught; and those who refuse to participate are cast out of the tribe. Solitary mermaids don't tend to last long; they make tasty snacks for orcas and sharks. Mermaids also don't grow older; if a child is 'turned' when she is eight, she will stay eight years old forever. Girls who join the mermaids are also sacrificing any future chance at love - for some reason, the change doesn't work on boys, so there are no mermen. Finally, there's no way back – while a mermaid will regain her legs if she leaves the water, the process causes extreme pain and she'll die before the transformation is complete. It's a terrible, agonizing death.
The one big problem – and it was huge - was the foundation of the mythology. Why do only abused girls become mermaids? What triggers the transformation? (In some cases, the mermaids can force a transformation when they sing, but at other times it happens rather randomly, miles from the ocean.) If an abused girl dies and her body is found buried in a psycho's backyard, or whatever, does that mean she wasn't worthy to be a mermaid? How does that work? I hope that this is addressed in future books; the way it was glazed over in the first volume felt very sketchy and incomplete.
Little Princes: One Man’s Promise to Bring Home the Lost Children of Nepal
by Conor Grennan
After working for years at a public policy think tank, Conor Grennan was ready to take a vacation. He decided to take all of his savings and go on a wild year-long spree around the world, a decision criticized by his family and friends. In order to make the trip more palatable, Conor signed up to do some volunteer work in Nepal at an orphanage. Who could complain about a man braving a civil war to help parentless children? Once he actually arrives in Nepal, Conor is overwhelmed. He doesn’t know the first thing about kids. But as his three month stint in Nepal continues, Conor finds working with the children deeply fulfilling. He is shocked to learn that many of the kids aren’t orphans, but victims of child trafficking. Their parents paid large sums of money to have their children brought to the city to be educated and given a safe home; however, the traffickers pocketed the money and abandoned the kids. When a group of kids he tries to rescue from traffickers disappear, Conor makes it his goal to locate the missing children and reunite them with their parents.
It was heartbreaking to read one account after another of parents who sold what little they had to improve their childrens’ lives. The kids would head to Kathmandu, supposedly to get an education at school, and simply disappear. The parents would have no idea what happened to their sons and daughters; meanwhile, the kids would be told that their parents were dead. One boy was even given a false death certificate. And it seems like there are so many kids that have been caught up in this child trafficking. In the book, Conor largely focuses on his search for seven children, but he meets hundreds more in situations just as bad. It’s really hard to read about the kids that he can’t help, because he lacks the means.
However, the book is often very funny, too. There’s a great scene where several kids are showing Conor and Farid (another volunteer) a toy that they call a “jablo”. It has two sticks, which are used to throw a goblet-shaped item into the air; Conor’s description makes me think the toy is a Chinese yo-yo. As they’re throwing the goblet in the air, showing the foreign men how to use it, the toy hits a spiderweb with a huge green spider in it. The two men scream and freak out, trying to get away from the spider. The kids, confused, put the toy away and Conor doesn’t see it again. He later finds out that the kids stopped using it because for some strange reason, foreigners are terrified of jablo.
Conor is an honest narrator, fully aware of his own foibles, and I liked that he was willing to share them. This was especially true when he talked about his relationship with Liz, the woman who (spoiler!) eventually becomes his wife. They meet through e-mail, and he builds up this giant crush before he’s even met her in person. (He sounds a little creepy, to be honest, but it works out well for him.) It’s just a little amusing that while he’s trying to track down kids in remote mountain villages, he’s also wondering if this smoking hot blonde woman likes him. I mean, it’s very human. He matures throughout the story, and I liked that we’re invited to join him in the process.
This book has inevitably drawn comparison to Three Cups of Tea. In fact, I can’t help but wonder how this book’s sales were affected by the scandal surrounding Greg Mortenson and the Central Asia Institute, since it seems like people have become a lot more suspicious of NGOs.
by Conor Grennan
After working for years at a public policy think tank, Conor Grennan was ready to take a vacation. He decided to take all of his savings and go on a wild year-long spree around the world, a decision criticized by his family and friends. In order to make the trip more palatable, Conor signed up to do some volunteer work in Nepal at an orphanage. Who could complain about a man braving a civil war to help parentless children? Once he actually arrives in Nepal, Conor is overwhelmed. He doesn’t know the first thing about kids. But as his three month stint in Nepal continues, Conor finds working with the children deeply fulfilling. He is shocked to learn that many of the kids aren’t orphans, but victims of child trafficking. Their parents paid large sums of money to have their children brought to the city to be educated and given a safe home; however, the traffickers pocketed the money and abandoned the kids. When a group of kids he tries to rescue from traffickers disappear, Conor makes it his goal to locate the missing children and reunite them with their parents.It was heartbreaking to read one account after another of parents who sold what little they had to improve their childrens’ lives. The kids would head to Kathmandu, supposedly to get an education at school, and simply disappear. The parents would have no idea what happened to their sons and daughters; meanwhile, the kids would be told that their parents were dead. One boy was even given a false death certificate. And it seems like there are so many kids that have been caught up in this child trafficking. In the book, Conor largely focuses on his search for seven children, but he meets hundreds more in situations just as bad. It’s really hard to read about the kids that he can’t help, because he lacks the means.
However, the book is often very funny, too. There’s a great scene where several kids are showing Conor and Farid (another volunteer) a toy that they call a “jablo”. It has two sticks, which are used to throw a goblet-shaped item into the air; Conor’s description makes me think the toy is a Chinese yo-yo. As they’re throwing the goblet in the air, showing the foreign men how to use it, the toy hits a spiderweb with a huge green spider in it. The two men scream and freak out, trying to get away from the spider. The kids, confused, put the toy away and Conor doesn’t see it again. He later finds out that the kids stopped using it because for some strange reason, foreigners are terrified of jablo.
Conor is an honest narrator, fully aware of his own foibles, and I liked that he was willing to share them. This was especially true when he talked about his relationship with Liz, the woman who (spoiler!) eventually becomes his wife. They meet through e-mail, and he builds up this giant crush before he’s even met her in person. (He sounds a little creepy, to be honest, but it works out well for him.) It’s just a little amusing that while he’s trying to track down kids in remote mountain villages, he’s also wondering if this smoking hot blonde woman likes him. I mean, it’s very human. He matures throughout the story, and I liked that we’re invited to join him in the process.
This book has inevitably drawn comparison to Three Cups of Tea. In fact, I can’t help but wonder how this book’s sales were affected by the scandal surrounding Greg Mortenson and the Central Asia Institute, since it seems like people have become a lot more suspicious of NGOs.
Not Love But Delicious Foods Make Me So Happy!
by Fumi Yoshinaga
As a mangaka, Y-naga spends countless hours drawing and planning stories. She’s so busy that she can barely find time to comb her hair or change out of her dumpy sweats. Only one thing can get her to clean up and leave her house, and that is her passion for food. Each of the short eight-page chapters is both a humorous look at Y-naga’s social ineptitude and a review of one of Tokyo’s resturants.
Y-naga’s love of friends and food shines on every page. Indeed, it’s almost overwhelming how much she and her companions can talk and talk about food, describing it in mouthwatering detail. It’s quite a tease, actually, because their praise of different dishes just makes me hungry, too! Even food that I normally wouldn’t touch with a ten food pole – liver sashimi? No thanks! – sounds to die for, the way Y-naga rhapsodizes about it. But while individual stories are fun, reading this entire volume back-to-back is a bit boring. I mean, you’re essentially reading restaurant reviews, and unless you live in Tokyo they’re reviews of restaurants you’re never going to eat at! If you do live in or plan to visit Tokyo, though, this is a really fun way to learn about some potential places to stop and eat. There’s even a map included at the end of every chapter to help you find the restaurant.
by Fumi Yoshinaga
As a mangaka, Y-naga spends countless hours drawing and planning stories. She’s so busy that she can barely find time to comb her hair or change out of her dumpy sweats. Only one thing can get her to clean up and leave her house, and that is her passion for food. Each of the short eight-page chapters is both a humorous look at Y-naga’s social ineptitude and a review of one of Tokyo’s resturants.Y-naga’s love of friends and food shines on every page. Indeed, it’s almost overwhelming how much she and her companions can talk and talk about food, describing it in mouthwatering detail. It’s quite a tease, actually, because their praise of different dishes just makes me hungry, too! Even food that I normally wouldn’t touch with a ten food pole – liver sashimi? No thanks! – sounds to die for, the way Y-naga rhapsodizes about it. But while individual stories are fun, reading this entire volume back-to-back is a bit boring. I mean, you’re essentially reading restaurant reviews, and unless you live in Tokyo they’re reviews of restaurants you’re never going to eat at! If you do live in or plan to visit Tokyo, though, this is a really fun way to learn about some potential places to stop and eat. There’s even a map included at the end of every chapter to help you find the restaurant.
Crocodile on the Sandbank
by Elizabeth Peters
Book One of the Amelia Peabody Mysteries
After inheriting her father’s fortune, Amelia Peabody decides that a life of travel and adventure is what she wants. Since she has no husband or children to keep her at home, she soon sets out, shocking her fellow Victorians with her strong opinions and forceful personality. While in Rome, she picks up a companion, the beautiful Evelyn, an English noblewoman cast out of her family after eloping with an Italian scoundrel. The two women continue together to Egypt so that Amelia can study the ancient civilization. While in Cairo, they meet the Emerson brothers, and it quickly becomes clear to Amelia that Evelyn is in love with the younger brother, Walter. They join the brothers and their archeological site further up the Nile, and it’s all fun and games until a murderous mummy starts stalking the travelers…
Meant to be a parody of 19th century adventure novels, Crocodile on the Sandbank is a silly, ridiculous story. At least, I read it that way. Think of it as a Scooby Doo plot with ridiculously over-the-top characters.
Amelia Peabody acts and, in the audiobook, sounds like a fussy old school matron, albeit a feisty one. She’s only in her early thirties! But I guess being a spinster ages a woman prematurely. Her ideas are so feminist and progressive that I would accuse her of being a modern woman in petticoats, but I believe that’s part of the joke of the book so I can work with it. She contrasts nicely with Evelyn, who is the waif-like epitome of a romantic Victorian leading lady. Walter Emerson is the romantic, thoughtful scholar who spends much of the book mooning over Evelyn; for action we turn to the brash, loud masculinity of Radcliffe as he thunders about the sands of Egypt decrying the trouble women cause. In my imagination, Radcliffe looks something like Gaston from Beauty and the Beast, right down to having biceps to spare and every last inch of him covered with hair. In fact, I think that this book reminds me of a cartoon. It’s got that sort of delightful, immoderate silliness running throughout.
The mystery here is pretty weak and predictable. The cast isn’t very large, so it’s really hard to find more than one or two suspects, especially since it seems pretty clear early on that the mummy isn’t a random stranger. If you’re reading this book, it’s either because you enjoy the characters – like I said, they’re ridiculous, but also quite lovable – or because you love Ancient Egypt. It’s not a book to pick up if you want a deep, penetrating puzzle to solve.
This is a long-running series. I believe there are nineteen books out right now? I don’t know that I’ll read all of them, but next time I want to read something fluffy and fun I’ll pick another up another Amelia Peabody mystery. To those of you who are familiar with the series – do the books need to be read in order or can they be read more or less as you please?
by Elizabeth Peters
Book One of the Amelia Peabody Mysteries
After inheriting her father’s fortune, Amelia Peabody decides that a life of travel and adventure is what she wants. Since she has no husband or children to keep her at home, she soon sets out, shocking her fellow Victorians with her strong opinions and forceful personality. While in Rome, she picks up a companion, the beautiful Evelyn, an English noblewoman cast out of her family after eloping with an Italian scoundrel. The two women continue together to Egypt so that Amelia can study the ancient civilization. While in Cairo, they meet the Emerson brothers, and it quickly becomes clear to Amelia that Evelyn is in love with the younger brother, Walter. They join the brothers and their archeological site further up the Nile, and it’s all fun and games until a murderous mummy starts stalking the travelers…Meant to be a parody of 19th century adventure novels, Crocodile on the Sandbank is a silly, ridiculous story. At least, I read it that way. Think of it as a Scooby Doo plot with ridiculously over-the-top characters.
Amelia Peabody acts and, in the audiobook, sounds like a fussy old school matron, albeit a feisty one. She’s only in her early thirties! But I guess being a spinster ages a woman prematurely. Her ideas are so feminist and progressive that I would accuse her of being a modern woman in petticoats, but I believe that’s part of the joke of the book so I can work with it. She contrasts nicely with Evelyn, who is the waif-like epitome of a romantic Victorian leading lady. Walter Emerson is the romantic, thoughtful scholar who spends much of the book mooning over Evelyn; for action we turn to the brash, loud masculinity of Radcliffe as he thunders about the sands of Egypt decrying the trouble women cause. In my imagination, Radcliffe looks something like Gaston from Beauty and the Beast, right down to having biceps to spare and every last inch of him covered with hair. In fact, I think that this book reminds me of a cartoon. It’s got that sort of delightful, immoderate silliness running throughout.
The mystery here is pretty weak and predictable. The cast isn’t very large, so it’s really hard to find more than one or two suspects, especially since it seems pretty clear early on that the mummy isn’t a random stranger. If you’re reading this book, it’s either because you enjoy the characters – like I said, they’re ridiculous, but also quite lovable – or because you love Ancient Egypt. It’s not a book to pick up if you want a deep, penetrating puzzle to solve.
This is a long-running series. I believe there are nineteen books out right now? I don’t know that I’ll read all of them, but next time I want to read something fluffy and fun I’ll pick another up another Amelia Peabody mystery. To those of you who are familiar with the series – do the books need to be read in order or can they be read more or less as you please?
The Night Circus
by Erin Morgenstern
Two magicians, Celia and Marco, have been locked in competition since childhood. Their venue is a mysterious circus that is open only at night. Le Cirque des Rêves is a magical world where enchantment and wonder can be found in every tent, seducing each visitor with unparalleled sights and sounds. But first and foremost, the circus is a battlefield and a showcase for the talents of the two magicians, who create ever-greater spectacles limited only by their will and imagination. As time goes by, Celia and Marco fall in love, but only one magician can win the contest.
It's rare to find a book so rich in atmosphere. Every description of Le Cirque makes it sound like the most wonderful, amazing, gothically-fabulous place in the world. The scent of popcorn in the air makes your mouth water; you can almost feel the cold of the glittering ice sculptures that never melt. Because the book is written in the third person present, it really tries to draw you in and make you fee like you're experiencing the circus, watching every act and running your fingers over every surface. And what a visual treat this circus would be! I would give this book five stars for the wonderful, dream-like descriptions that made me imagine the circus so clearly.
Trouble is, the characters aren't nearly as interesting. The romance between Celia and Marco is developed over a great distance; Celia travels with the circus as a performer while Marco manages its paperwork in an office in London. Since they rarely meet in person, their relationship – if you can even call it that! - hardly seems real. Many of the side characters are interested, but we don't see much of them. The plot is also fairly weak, and many of the questions I had about the circus and the magicians was never adequately explained. For example, we're told that the circus is a 'unique' venue for the magicians' competition, but not why it's considered special. Heck, little of the nature of the competition makes sense, and the final resolution of it was disappointing.
If The Night Circus were a movie, I'm pretty sure Tim Burton would direct it, and it would be crazy-beautiful and slightly terrifying. (I mean, can you imagine what he'd do with a black-and-white circus that pops up magically all around the world?) It's such an enchanting idea. And it's a very visual book. I imagine it would appeal a great deal to fans of gothic fashion and steampunk pseudo-Victoriana.
by Erin Morgenstern
Two magicians, Celia and Marco, have been locked in competition since childhood. Their venue is a mysterious circus that is open only at night. Le Cirque des Rêves is a magical world where enchantment and wonder can be found in every tent, seducing each visitor with unparalleled sights and sounds. But first and foremost, the circus is a battlefield and a showcase for the talents of the two magicians, who create ever-greater spectacles limited only by their will and imagination. As time goes by, Celia and Marco fall in love, but only one magician can win the contest.It's rare to find a book so rich in atmosphere. Every description of Le Cirque makes it sound like the most wonderful, amazing, gothically-fabulous place in the world. The scent of popcorn in the air makes your mouth water; you can almost feel the cold of the glittering ice sculptures that never melt. Because the book is written in the third person present, it really tries to draw you in and make you fee like you're experiencing the circus, watching every act and running your fingers over every surface. And what a visual treat this circus would be! I would give this book five stars for the wonderful, dream-like descriptions that made me imagine the circus so clearly.
Trouble is, the characters aren't nearly as interesting. The romance between Celia and Marco is developed over a great distance; Celia travels with the circus as a performer while Marco manages its paperwork in an office in London. Since they rarely meet in person, their relationship – if you can even call it that! - hardly seems real. Many of the side characters are interested, but we don't see much of them. The plot is also fairly weak, and many of the questions I had about the circus and the magicians was never adequately explained. For example, we're told that the circus is a 'unique' venue for the magicians' competition, but not why it's considered special. Heck, little of the nature of the competition makes sense, and the final resolution of it was disappointing.
If The Night Circus were a movie, I'm pretty sure Tim Burton would direct it, and it would be crazy-beautiful and slightly terrifying. (I mean, can you imagine what he'd do with a black-and-white circus that pops up magically all around the world?) It's such an enchanting idea. And it's a very visual book. I imagine it would appeal a great deal to fans of gothic fashion and steampunk pseudo-Victoriana.
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