Dead men's bones, by James Oswald. Kindle edition.
Perfect companion to a weekend in Edinburgh and Glasgow. DI Tony McLean is investigating one case, that of an entirely-tattooed man found in a river, but is called away to investigate the death of a prominent MSP who has apparently smothered his daughters, shot his wife and then killed himself in his garden. Weirdly, his boss Duguid is encouraging him to do his thing and complicate the investigation, unlike his usual request to wrap the case up quickly. As McLean continues to dig into the case, he begins to realise he's a pawn in someone's chess game... There is a bit of supernatural stuff again in this, which I know is Oswald's USP, but I always find it ever so slightly annoying; but that doesn't detract from a really fascinating plot, and the characters are, as ever, worth reading.
Evil has a name [audiobook]. Narrated by Paul Holes, Jim Clemente and others. An Audible original.
This is a follow-up, in real life, to Michelle McNamara's I'll be gone in the dark: one woman's obsessive search with the Golden State Killer. Just months after McNamara's tragically early death, some amazing detective work led to an arrest in this series of 40-year-old rapes and murders. Jim Clemente, a former FBI profiler, and Paul Holes, the man who re-opened the investigation into the cases, tell the story of the case; there are also interviews with some of the victims where they're allowed just to tell their stories. A fascinating series, particularly if you've read the McNamara book.
The secret barrister: stories of the law and how it's broken, by the Secret Barrister. London: Macmillan, 2018.
This is an excellent book, funny and horrifying in turns; one relatively junior barrister's view of criminal law as it's currently practiced in the UK. The author takes the system to task, pointing out the impact of sentencing policy, trial practice and the impact of cuts in the legal aid system. At the same time, he acknowledges how many of the people running the courts system are trying to do the right thing against all odds. Each chapter is illustrated with examples of actual cases, which are told with a great deal of compassion and occasionally a huge amount of humour. Definitely one worth reading for anyone with even a passing interest in the subject.
Threads of life: a history of the world through the eye of a needle, by Clare Hunter [audiobook]. Read by Siobhan Redmond. Audible edition.
This book sits alongside Elizabeth Wayland Barber's Women's work: the first 20,000 years and Rozsika Parker's The subversive stitch: embroidery and the making of the feminine as a fascinating story of social history through textile craft. Hunter's focus is more on British history than the other two mentioned, and also brings in her own life as an artist-in-residence working with different communities. From Opus anglicanum to the Glasgow Girls and then into contemporary craft, Hunter has interesting things to say even for people like me who felt reasonably well-versed in the history of embroidery. The reading is lovely, a gentle Scottish voice which reflects the origins of the author and makes for extremely easy listening.
The Ronde: inside the Tour of Flanders, the world's toughest bike race, by Edward Pickering. London: Simon and Schuster, 2018.
As with several other successful cycling books I've read, this book tells the history of the Tour of Flanders by means of looking at one edition of the race (in this case, the 2011 race), and then widening the shot to give the history of the people and places discussed. It also broadens out to include the history of Flanders, and of Belgium. There are interviews with riders about their memory of that year's race, and with the organisers and team owners and directeurs sportifs. It's a fascinating book; I was about three-quarters through it when this year's race started and I got a lot more out of watching than I otherwise would...
Sunday, April 14, 2019
Sunday, April 07, 2019
2019 books, #16-20
The sleeping and the dead, by Ann Cleeves. Kindle edition.
A body is found in a local lake during a summer of drought; it's identified as Michael Grey, a boy who'd attended the local school thirtyyears before. Prison librarian Hannah Morton is particularly shocked: Michael is her boyfriend, and she'd just assumed he'd left the area. Now she's a suspect in his death, and buried memories are rising to the surface. I quite liked Peter Porteous, the lead detective, a man who thought he'd left the stress of big-city policing behind; I did enjoy this book although not as much as some of Cleeves's others...
Burial of ghosts, by Ann Cleeves. Kindle edition.
Lizzie Bartholomew has a one-night stand in Morocco with a man she imagines she'll never see again. A few months later, a solicitor comes to her with an offer of £15,000 to set up her own business, a legacy from the mysterious man on the Marrakech omnibus, on condition that she try to trace his son. We gradually find out about Lizzie's background, the incident that has changed her life and meant she can't work in social work again, and as she digs deeper into the circumstances, the danger she's leading herself into by investigating the man's family. This is a fascinating book; it has some elements of a Barbara Vine novel in terms of being quite disturbing in parts.
Rapid Falls, by Amber Cowie. Kindle edition.
Cara's sister Anna was driving Cara and her boyfriend Jesse back from their senior prom when the car went off the road and into the river; Jesse is killed and Anna is incarcerated. 20 years later, Cara is married with a baby, and Anna, newly released from prison, is struggling with drink and mental health issues. As Anna tries to reclaim her life, though, her memories of that night differ quite markedly from her sister's. Is the established view of what happened actually the truth? This is really excellent and the reality of what happens creeps up on the reader...
Close to home, by Cara Hunter. Kindle edition.
8-year-old Daisy Mason has gone missing from a family party But her parents' reaction seems very odd - her mother is entirely concerned with keeping up appearances, and her father seems very reluctant to cooperate with the police. As DI Fawley investigates, things become even more unclear, and everyone is under suspicion. Tightly plotted police procedural with some interesting police characters.
In the dark, by Cara Hunter. Kindle edition.
A woman and a child are discovered in the basement of a house, during renovations next door. The elderly man upstairs claims no knowledge of them, and there are no recent missing person reports; and the woman screams every time the child is brought to her in hospital. DI Fawley and his team become embroiled in a series of complications which just make the whole situation more confusing, until the truth comes out. This is disturbing in parts, but this is definitely a series of books to read.
A body is found in a local lake during a summer of drought; it's identified as Michael Grey, a boy who'd attended the local school thirtyyears before. Prison librarian Hannah Morton is particularly shocked: Michael is her boyfriend, and she'd just assumed he'd left the area. Now she's a suspect in his death, and buried memories are rising to the surface. I quite liked Peter Porteous, the lead detective, a man who thought he'd left the stress of big-city policing behind; I did enjoy this book although not as much as some of Cleeves's others...
Burial of ghosts, by Ann Cleeves. Kindle edition.
Lizzie Bartholomew has a one-night stand in Morocco with a man she imagines she'll never see again. A few months later, a solicitor comes to her with an offer of £15,000 to set up her own business, a legacy from the mysterious man on the Marrakech omnibus, on condition that she try to trace his son. We gradually find out about Lizzie's background, the incident that has changed her life and meant she can't work in social work again, and as she digs deeper into the circumstances, the danger she's leading herself into by investigating the man's family. This is a fascinating book; it has some elements of a Barbara Vine novel in terms of being quite disturbing in parts.
Rapid Falls, by Amber Cowie. Kindle edition.
Cara's sister Anna was driving Cara and her boyfriend Jesse back from their senior prom when the car went off the road and into the river; Jesse is killed and Anna is incarcerated. 20 years later, Cara is married with a baby, and Anna, newly released from prison, is struggling with drink and mental health issues. As Anna tries to reclaim her life, though, her memories of that night differ quite markedly from her sister's. Is the established view of what happened actually the truth? This is really excellent and the reality of what happens creeps up on the reader...
Close to home, by Cara Hunter. Kindle edition.
8-year-old Daisy Mason has gone missing from a family party But her parents' reaction seems very odd - her mother is entirely concerned with keeping up appearances, and her father seems very reluctant to cooperate with the police. As DI Fawley investigates, things become even more unclear, and everyone is under suspicion. Tightly plotted police procedural with some interesting police characters.
In the dark, by Cara Hunter. Kindle edition.
A woman and a child are discovered in the basement of a house, during renovations next door. The elderly man upstairs claims no knowledge of them, and there are no recent missing person reports; and the woman screams every time the child is brought to her in hospital. DI Fawley and his team become embroiled in a series of complications which just make the whole situation more confusing, until the truth comes out. This is disturbing in parts, but this is definitely a series of books to read.
Tuesday, March 12, 2019
2019 books, #11-15
California Fire and Life by Don Winslow [audiobook]. Read by Jon Lindstrom. Audible edition.
Jack Wade is an arson investigator; he prides himself on his "just the facts" approach and lack of emotional engagement in the fires he looks at for California Fire and Life, under his boss, Goddamn Billy. When a woman is found burned in the remains of her house, and everything seems to be wrong, he breaks his rules and throws himself into the case. This has wonderful elements of the classic hard-boiled detective story; extremely enjoyable, with the requisite deadpan delivery from the reader.
Milkman, by Anna Burns. Kindle edition.
"The day Somebody McSomebody put a gun to my breast and called me a cat and threatened to shoot me was the day the milkman died. He had been shot by one of the state hit squads and I did not care about the shooting of this man". This beginning is pretty arresting; and I loved this book. It had elements of Joyce in the wandering, dazzling, circling prose, but then brought right back to earth with something very ordinary. I found elements of it hilariously funny, and a lot of it heartbreaking. It's set in the Troubles, and the everyday breathtaking absurdity of living in a divided community is everywhere, characterised by "the renouncers" and "the defenders". Wonderful. (I'm not sure everyone in my book group will agree - I know a couple of people were finding it quite heavy going so we're going to talk about it next month instead...)
Collected poems, by Isaac Rosenberg. Amazon: [s. l.], 2013.
This is an Amazon-printed edition compiled by a fan of Rosenberg's work; and the first collected edition of his poems. Rosenberg's Break of day in the trenches is well-known and a staple of anthologies, but this has all the war poems, and the pre-war poems. Unlike many of the war poets, Rosenberg was working-class, Jewish and had never had patriotic feelings about the war. "I never joined the army for patriotic reasons. Nothing can justify war. I suppose we must all fight to get the trouble over." The whole book runs to 72 pages, but there are some beautiful things in here. I think my favourite of those I hadn't read before is My days. Appropriate, too. (Apologies in advance if this link starts blaring sound at you - it was the only online source I could find.)
A study in Sherlock: stories inspired by the Holmes canon, edited by Laurie R. King and Leslie S. Klinger. London: Titan, 2011.
These are fun. Some are intended to be straightforward additions to the Holmes canon, but more are a sideways glance, and even more are pretty self-referential along the lines of the Sherlock TV series. There are stories from Lee Child, Neil Gaiman, Laura Lippman, Dana Stabenow, Jacqueline Winspear and many more, all taken into different environments, and sometimes into the world of the characters the authors usually write (Dana Stabenow's is a Kate Shugak short story)... Really enjoyable; and some of them, like the best fanfiction, make you think back to canon. (I have to confess that the one I didn't finish was the story written as a graphic novel - much more my fault than the author's...)
The cycling podcast: a journey through the cycling year, by Richard Moore, Lionel Birnie and Daniel Friebe. London: Yellow Jersey, 2018.
This is fun. I started reading this very shortly after it came out, and after I went to the launch event; and then somehow I lost it in the pile of unread books, after reading as far as halfway through the 2017 Tour. There are some great bits in this book - an account of the cycling world in 2017 - not least the parts I love about the Cycling Podcast. Yes, they know a lot about cycling, and things like the finances surrounding cycling, the history of particular stages, and they're prepared to discuss things like doping, the history of the sport, the precarious financial situation of a sport which relies 100% on sponsorship... But there's also a lot on the love of the thing, and the beauty of Italy, France and Spain during the Giro, the Tour and the Vuelta. And the food. Lots of stuff on the food. And it's mostly also really funny. There are also lovely guest contributions from Seb Piquet (the Voice of Race Radio), journnalists Orla Chennouai, Fran Reyes, Ciro Scognamiglio and François Thomazeau, along with riders Ashleigh Moolman Pasio and Joe Dombrowski. While it's now approaching 2 years out of date, if you're interested in reading about the loveliness of following road racing, you might still want to get hold of this book. You'll have to buy your own copy though; I'm keeping mine.
Jack Wade is an arson investigator; he prides himself on his "just the facts" approach and lack of emotional engagement in the fires he looks at for California Fire and Life, under his boss, Goddamn Billy. When a woman is found burned in the remains of her house, and everything seems to be wrong, he breaks his rules and throws himself into the case. This has wonderful elements of the classic hard-boiled detective story; extremely enjoyable, with the requisite deadpan delivery from the reader.
Milkman, by Anna Burns. Kindle edition.
"The day Somebody McSomebody put a gun to my breast and called me a cat and threatened to shoot me was the day the milkman died. He had been shot by one of the state hit squads and I did not care about the shooting of this man". This beginning is pretty arresting; and I loved this book. It had elements of Joyce in the wandering, dazzling, circling prose, but then brought right back to earth with something very ordinary. I found elements of it hilariously funny, and a lot of it heartbreaking. It's set in the Troubles, and the everyday breathtaking absurdity of living in a divided community is everywhere, characterised by "the renouncers" and "the defenders". Wonderful. (I'm not sure everyone in my book group will agree - I know a couple of people were finding it quite heavy going so we're going to talk about it next month instead...)
Collected poems, by Isaac Rosenberg. Amazon: [s. l.], 2013.
This is an Amazon-printed edition compiled by a fan of Rosenberg's work; and the first collected edition of his poems. Rosenberg's Break of day in the trenches is well-known and a staple of anthologies, but this has all the war poems, and the pre-war poems. Unlike many of the war poets, Rosenberg was working-class, Jewish and had never had patriotic feelings about the war. "I never joined the army for patriotic reasons. Nothing can justify war. I suppose we must all fight to get the trouble over." The whole book runs to 72 pages, but there are some beautiful things in here. I think my favourite of those I hadn't read before is My days. Appropriate, too. (Apologies in advance if this link starts blaring sound at you - it was the only online source I could find.)
A study in Sherlock: stories inspired by the Holmes canon, edited by Laurie R. King and Leslie S. Klinger. London: Titan, 2011.
These are fun. Some are intended to be straightforward additions to the Holmes canon, but more are a sideways glance, and even more are pretty self-referential along the lines of the Sherlock TV series. There are stories from Lee Child, Neil Gaiman, Laura Lippman, Dana Stabenow, Jacqueline Winspear and many more, all taken into different environments, and sometimes into the world of the characters the authors usually write (Dana Stabenow's is a Kate Shugak short story)... Really enjoyable; and some of them, like the best fanfiction, make you think back to canon. (I have to confess that the one I didn't finish was the story written as a graphic novel - much more my fault than the author's...)
The cycling podcast: a journey through the cycling year, by Richard Moore, Lionel Birnie and Daniel Friebe. London: Yellow Jersey, 2018.
This is fun. I started reading this very shortly after it came out, and after I went to the launch event; and then somehow I lost it in the pile of unread books, after reading as far as halfway through the 2017 Tour. There are some great bits in this book - an account of the cycling world in 2017 - not least the parts I love about the Cycling Podcast. Yes, they know a lot about cycling, and things like the finances surrounding cycling, the history of particular stages, and they're prepared to discuss things like doping, the history of the sport, the precarious financial situation of a sport which relies 100% on sponsorship... But there's also a lot on the love of the thing, and the beauty of Italy, France and Spain during the Giro, the Tour and the Vuelta. And the food. Lots of stuff on the food. And it's mostly also really funny. There are also lovely guest contributions from Seb Piquet (the Voice of Race Radio), journnalists Orla Chennouai, Fran Reyes, Ciro Scognamiglio and François Thomazeau, along with riders Ashleigh Moolman Pasio and Joe Dombrowski. While it's now approaching 2 years out of date, if you're interested in reading about the loveliness of following road racing, you might still want to get hold of this book. You'll have to buy your own copy though; I'm keeping mine.
Friday, February 22, 2019
2019 books, #6-10
The stone circle, by Elly Griffiths. Kindle edition.
The eleventh of the Ruth Galloway/Harry Nelson books. This time, another circle is found on the Norfolk Coast, as in the first book, and the coincidences pile up as the son of Erik, the leader of the first dig, appears to lead this one. Leif is one complication. A recent body found at the site of a prehistoric burial is another. And Nelson's entangled private life takes another turn at the birth of his son, while Ruth has a decision to make. I enjoyed the last one, set in Italy, but this one takes us back to King's Lynn and North Norfolk with a side of Cambridge. I just wish I could read these more slowly - I devoured it in 24 hours...
Six degrees of assassination, by MJ Arlidge. Audible full cast recording.
This is a series of 10 half-hour episodes, really well acted by Andrew Scott, Freema Agyema and others - and a free Audible series for subscribers. Ten years after 7/7, the Prime Minister is visiting a charity in East London when he is shot three times in the chest. Alex Townsend (Scott) and Ellen Townsend (Agyema) investigate, and find layers upon layers of conspiracy. I thought this was excellent.
The moonstone, by Wilkie Collins [audiobook]. Read by Peter Jeffrey. Audible edition.
One of my favourite books, and an excellent reading by Jeffrey. The account of the dreadful Miss Clack is particularly well done. Popularly supposed to be the first detective novel in English, and still an excellent read/listen.
The Tour according to G: my journey to the yellow jersey, by Geraint Thomas with Tom Fordyce. London: Quercus, 2018.
This starts off in a slightly awkward way, unlike Geraint's previous book; but once racing is underway, Fordyce does an excellent job of capturing G's voice and we're taken stage by stage through last year's race. As ever, I'm amazed at the recall of riders of the different stages, and there's also a great deal of humour and some interesting stuff about the Team Sky dynamics which were a subject of great interest from commentators. There's also a good chapter about the craziness of the media storm around Geraint's win, and some contributions from Tim Kerrison, Dave Brailsford, Sara Thomas and Chris Froome. Definitely brought back some of the joy of seeing Geraint win last summer.
Twelve patients: life and death at Bellevue Hospital, by Eric Manheimer. Kindle edition.
This is the book which inspired the new Prime series New Amsterdam, which I found myself binge-watching last weekend; and, as so often, the book is better than the series. Manheimer gives an unflinching view of public medicine in New York, through twelve different patient stories, one of them his own treatment for throat cancer. He looks at the horror of illness and the extreme damage sometimes done by its cure; and also at the wider issues of poverty, immigration status, obesity, insurance (and the lack of it) and so on. But it's also a hymn to public health care, the dedication of staff, the strange families which are created around both long-term treatment and long-term work relationships, and the beauty and diversity of central New York.
The eleventh of the Ruth Galloway/Harry Nelson books. This time, another circle is found on the Norfolk Coast, as in the first book, and the coincidences pile up as the son of Erik, the leader of the first dig, appears to lead this one. Leif is one complication. A recent body found at the site of a prehistoric burial is another. And Nelson's entangled private life takes another turn at the birth of his son, while Ruth has a decision to make. I enjoyed the last one, set in Italy, but this one takes us back to King's Lynn and North Norfolk with a side of Cambridge. I just wish I could read these more slowly - I devoured it in 24 hours...
Six degrees of assassination, by MJ Arlidge. Audible full cast recording.
This is a series of 10 half-hour episodes, really well acted by Andrew Scott, Freema Agyema and others - and a free Audible series for subscribers. Ten years after 7/7, the Prime Minister is visiting a charity in East London when he is shot three times in the chest. Alex Townsend (Scott) and Ellen Townsend (Agyema) investigate, and find layers upon layers of conspiracy. I thought this was excellent.
The moonstone, by Wilkie Collins [audiobook]. Read by Peter Jeffrey. Audible edition.
One of my favourite books, and an excellent reading by Jeffrey. The account of the dreadful Miss Clack is particularly well done. Popularly supposed to be the first detective novel in English, and still an excellent read/listen.
The Tour according to G: my journey to the yellow jersey, by Geraint Thomas with Tom Fordyce. London: Quercus, 2018.
This starts off in a slightly awkward way, unlike Geraint's previous book; but once racing is underway, Fordyce does an excellent job of capturing G's voice and we're taken stage by stage through last year's race. As ever, I'm amazed at the recall of riders of the different stages, and there's also a great deal of humour and some interesting stuff about the Team Sky dynamics which were a subject of great interest from commentators. There's also a good chapter about the craziness of the media storm around Geraint's win, and some contributions from Tim Kerrison, Dave Brailsford, Sara Thomas and Chris Froome. Definitely brought back some of the joy of seeing Geraint win last summer.
Twelve patients: life and death at Bellevue Hospital, by Eric Manheimer. Kindle edition.
This is the book which inspired the new Prime series New Amsterdam, which I found myself binge-watching last weekend; and, as so often, the book is better than the series. Manheimer gives an unflinching view of public medicine in New York, through twelve different patient stories, one of them his own treatment for throat cancer. He looks at the horror of illness and the extreme damage sometimes done by its cure; and also at the wider issues of poverty, immigration status, obesity, insurance (and the lack of it) and so on. But it's also a hymn to public health care, the dedication of staff, the strange families which are created around both long-term treatment and long-term work relationships, and the beauty and diversity of central New York.
2019 books, #1-5
Attempting to get back into the swing of book reviews this year; and hoping to put in some crafty-type posts as well!
The cadaver king and the country dentist, by Robert Balko and Tucker Carrington, with an introduction by John Grisham [audiobook]. Read by Robert Fass. Audible edition.
I heard about this one on one of the criminal justice podcasts I listen to; the story of coroner Dr Steven Hayne and dentist and "bite mark analyst" Dr Michael West. Hayne ran an "autopsy factory" in Mississippi, single-handedly performing the vast majority of the state's autopsies for many years, while West hired himself out as a jack of all trades in the forensic science expert witness business, specialising in science such as bite mark analysis which is now discredited as "junk science". Between them, they made vast amounts of money, and contributed to some blatant miscarriages of justice, condemning (mainly black) defendants to prison, often for many years. This book exposes their crimes, and is introduced by John Grisham, chair of the Georgia Innocence Project. It asks some disquieting questions about prosecutorial conduct, the reliability of professional expert witnesses, and institutional racism in the criminal justice system as a whole. Definitely worth a read/listen.
Longstone, by LJ Ross. Kindle edition.
Another of the DCI Ryan mysteries; this time, a marine archaeologist disappears while diving for a Viking longship he believes he has discovered. Dr Anna Ryan is there when the body is found, and Ryan isn't far behind. This one is set in and around Seahouses, which was where we often went for day trips out, and several times for school trips, so the setting added to the interest for me. These are always workmanlike and interesting; the style sometimes grates but the plot makes them more or less unputdownable...
The sealwoman's gift, by Sally Magnusson. Kindle edition.
Set in 17th century Iceland and Algiers, this is based on a true story of slavers' raids on Iceland. As such, it's historically fascinating; there are several historical sources for the male protagonists, but very little for the females, and Magnusson attempts to fill in the gaps. The first hundred pages or so are not for the squeamish, in that a journey on a slave ship is portrayed in its gory reality; and it says interesting things about religion, class and sexual dynamics. I have to say that I found it pretty heavy going, but that didn't seem to be the case for most of the other people in my book group.
Gallows View, by Peter Robinson [audiobook]. Read by Simon Slater. Audible edition.
I'd forgotten how good the early Peter Robinson books were; may have to go back to them. In this one, Banks (newly moved from London to Yorkshire for a less stressful life) is faced with a peeping tom, a pair of glue-fuelled robbers and a potential murder of an old lady. He's also dealing with pressure from a local women's group who feel the peeping tom incidents aren't being treated with the necessary seriousness. Tightly plotted, and well read by Simon Slater.
If we were villains, by ML Rio [audiobook]. Read by Robert Petkoff. Audible edition.
Recommended by Jan - thanks, Jan! This is brilliant. A group of seven young acting students are in their final year at a prestigious private college specialising in Shakespeare; up to now, the group dynamics have worked well, even if it has been predictable who will land all the leading roles. As the year goes on, though, things begin breaking down, and the framing device - the release of the narrator from prison - indicates that a tragedy of some kind has happened. The book is broken down into acts and scenes, each act with a prologue set in the present, and the story gradually unrolls. It's absolutely compelling from start to finish, and the reader is also excellent. Highly recommended...
Monday, December 31, 2018
2018 books
Having completely failed to do any reviews this year, I'm just going to list 2018's books here and hope to do better next year! At least I'll have a record of what I read over the year... 70 of them. Not great; not terrible. I listened to an awful lot of podcasts this year.
It seems I've read an awful lot on the Kindle and listened primarily to stuff on Audible (including a massive Harry Potter re-listen over Christmas and New Year which isn't listed here); this has not, predictably, done a lot for my tendency to continue to collect books. Next year's plan is to read many more paper books and try to make a dent in the heaps... And then get rid of them out of the house. The sheer number of unread books is probably why I retreated to the Kindle...
In true librarian fashion; by alphabetical order of author...
Aaronovitch, Ben: Lies sleeping [audiobook]. Read by Kobna Holdbrook-Smith. Audible edition.
Baker, Rob: Beautiful idiots and brilliant lunatics: a sideways look at twentieth-century London. London: Amberley Publishing, 2015.
Baxter, Stephen: The massacre of mankind: sequel to War of the worlds. London: Gollancz, 2017.
Blumenthal, Daniel: Alsace-Lorraine: a study of the relations of the two provinces to France and to Germany and a presentation of the just claims of their people. Kindle edition (originally published 1917).
Bolton, Sharon: The craftsman [audiobook]. Read by Nathalie Buscombe. Audible edition.
Castillo, Linda: Her last breath [audiobook]. Read by Kathleen McInerny. Audible edition.
Child, Lee: The midnight line [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Audible edition.
Child, Lee: Night school [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Audible edition.
Child, Lee: Past tense [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Audible edition.
Clarke, Stephen: Paris revealed: the secret life of a city. Kindle edition.
Cleeves, Ann: A day in the death of Dorothea Cassidy. Kindle edition.
Cleeves, Ann: The seagull [audiobook]. Read by Janine Birkitt. Audible edition.
Cleeves, Ann: Wild fire [audiobook]. Read by Kenny Blyth. Audible edition.
Deaver, Jeffery: The cutting edge [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Audible edition.
Doerr, Anthony: All the light we cannot see. Kindle edition.
Douglas, John and Mark Olshaker: Law and disorder. Kindle edition.
Elkin, Lauren: Flâneuse: women walk the city in Paris, New York, Tokyo, Venice and London. London: Chatto and Windus, 2016.
Francis, Felix: Pulse [audiobook]. Read by Claire Corbett. Audible edition.
Francis, Felix: Crisis [audiobook]. Read by Martin Jarvis. Audible edition.
Galbraith, Robert: Lethal white [audiobook]. Read by Robert Glenister. Audible edition.
Garrett, Brandon: Convicting the innocent. Kindle edition.
Grey, Isabelle: Good girls don't die. Kindle edition.
Grey, Isabelle: Shot through the heart. Kindle edition.
Grey, Isabelle: The special girls. Kindle edition.
Grey, Isabelle: Wrong way home. Kindle edition.
Griffiths, Elly: The chalk pit [audiobook]. Read by Jane McDowell. Audible edition.
Griffiths, Elly: The dark angel [audiobook]. Read by Jane McDowell. Audible edition.
Hamilton, Alexander: The federalist papers. Kindle edition.
Harper, Jane: Force of nature. Kindle edition.
Harper, Karen: Shattered secrets. Kindle edition.
Hethrington, Percy: A day's tour: a journey through France and Belgium by Calais, Tournay, Orchies, Douai, Arras, Béthune, Lille, Comines, Ypres, Hazebrouck, Bergues and St Omer. With a few sketches. Kindle edition (originally published 1887).
Higashida, Naoki: The reason I jump: one boy's voice from the silence of autism. Introduced by David Mitchell. Translated by KA Yoshida and David Mitchell. London: Sceptre, 2014.
Hill, Victor: Wohlzheim: a tale of love in the Devil's half century. Kindle edition.
Izner, Claude: The Père-Lachaise mystery. Kindle edition.
James, Peter: Perfect people. Kindle edition.
Kelly, Jim: The great darkness. London: Allison and Busby, 2018.
King, Laurie R.: Island of the mad. Kindle edition.
King, Laurie R.: Mary Russell's war. Kindle edition.
McDermid, Val: Broken ground [audiobook]. Read by Cathleen McCarron. Audible edition.
McDermid, Val: Insidious intent [audiobook]. Read by Saul Reichlin. Audible edition.
McGregor, Jon: Reservoir 13. London: 4th Estate, 2018.
Macrae, Graeme: The disappearance of Adèle Bedeau. Kindle edition.
Macrae, Graeme: His bloody project: documents relating to the case of Roderick Macrae. Kindle edition.
McNamara, Michelle: I'll be gone in the dark: one woman's obsessive search for the Golden State Killer. Kindle edition.
Mancini, Ruth: In the blood. Kindle edition.
Mangan, Lucy: Bookworm: a memoir of childhood reading [audiobook]. Read by the author. Audible edition.
May, Peter: I'll keep you safe [audiobook]. Read by Anna Murray and Peter Forbes. Audible edition.
Mina, Denise: Garnethill. Kindle edition.
Noah, Trevor: Born a crime: stories from a South African childhood. Kindle edition.
Norwich, John Julius: France: a short history [audiobook]. Read by the author. Audible edition.
Raluca, Boangiu: Montpellier en 100 dates. Kindle edition.
Rayner, Jay: The ten (food) commandments. London: Penguin, 2016.
Robertson, Deborah: Declutter: the get-real guide to creating calm from chaos. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: Angel. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: Cragside. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: Dark skies. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: Heavenfield. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: The hermitage. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: High Force. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: Holy Island. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: Seven bridges. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: Sycamore Gap. Kindle edition.
Rutherfurd, Edward: Paris. Kindle edition.
Shaw, William: Salt Lane [audiobook]. Read by Jasmine Blackborow. Audible edition.
Stembridge, Gerard: What she saw: a novel. New York: HarperPerennial, 2017.
Symon, Vanda: Overkill. Kindle edition.
Upson, Nicola: Nine lessons [audiobook]. Read by Sandra Duncan. Audible edition.
Ward, Sarah: A deadly thaw [audiobook]. Read by Julia Anthony. Audible edition.
Ward, Sarah: A patient fury. London: Faber, 2017.
Ward, Sarah: The shrouded path. Kindle edition.
Wells, HG: The war of the worlds. Kindle edition.
It seems I've read an awful lot on the Kindle and listened primarily to stuff on Audible (including a massive Harry Potter re-listen over Christmas and New Year which isn't listed here); this has not, predictably, done a lot for my tendency to continue to collect books. Next year's plan is to read many more paper books and try to make a dent in the heaps... And then get rid of them out of the house. The sheer number of unread books is probably why I retreated to the Kindle...
In true librarian fashion; by alphabetical order of author...
Aaronovitch, Ben: Lies sleeping [audiobook]. Read by Kobna Holdbrook-Smith. Audible edition.
Baker, Rob: Beautiful idiots and brilliant lunatics: a sideways look at twentieth-century London. London: Amberley Publishing, 2015.
Baxter, Stephen: The massacre of mankind: sequel to War of the worlds. London: Gollancz, 2017.
Blumenthal, Daniel: Alsace-Lorraine: a study of the relations of the two provinces to France and to Germany and a presentation of the just claims of their people. Kindle edition (originally published 1917).
Bolton, Sharon: The craftsman [audiobook]. Read by Nathalie Buscombe. Audible edition.
Castillo, Linda: Her last breath [audiobook]. Read by Kathleen McInerny. Audible edition.
Child, Lee: The midnight line [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Audible edition.
Child, Lee: Night school [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Audible edition.
Child, Lee: Past tense [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Audible edition.
Clarke, Stephen: Paris revealed: the secret life of a city. Kindle edition.
Cleeves, Ann: A day in the death of Dorothea Cassidy. Kindle edition.
Cleeves, Ann: The seagull [audiobook]. Read by Janine Birkitt. Audible edition.
Cleeves, Ann: Wild fire [audiobook]. Read by Kenny Blyth. Audible edition.
Deaver, Jeffery: The cutting edge [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Audible edition.
Doerr, Anthony: All the light we cannot see. Kindle edition.
Douglas, John and Mark Olshaker: Law and disorder. Kindle edition.
Elkin, Lauren: Flâneuse: women walk the city in Paris, New York, Tokyo, Venice and London. London: Chatto and Windus, 2016.
Francis, Felix: Pulse [audiobook]. Read by Claire Corbett. Audible edition.
Francis, Felix: Crisis [audiobook]. Read by Martin Jarvis. Audible edition.
Galbraith, Robert: Lethal white [audiobook]. Read by Robert Glenister. Audible edition.
Garrett, Brandon: Convicting the innocent. Kindle edition.
Grey, Isabelle: Good girls don't die. Kindle edition.
Grey, Isabelle: Shot through the heart. Kindle edition.
Grey, Isabelle: The special girls. Kindle edition.
Grey, Isabelle: Wrong way home. Kindle edition.
Griffiths, Elly: The chalk pit [audiobook]. Read by Jane McDowell. Audible edition.
Griffiths, Elly: The dark angel [audiobook]. Read by Jane McDowell. Audible edition.
Hamilton, Alexander: The federalist papers. Kindle edition.
Harper, Jane: Force of nature. Kindle edition.
Harper, Karen: Shattered secrets. Kindle edition.
Hethrington, Percy: A day's tour: a journey through France and Belgium by Calais, Tournay, Orchies, Douai, Arras, Béthune, Lille, Comines, Ypres, Hazebrouck, Bergues and St Omer. With a few sketches. Kindle edition (originally published 1887).
Higashida, Naoki: The reason I jump: one boy's voice from the silence of autism. Introduced by David Mitchell. Translated by KA Yoshida and David Mitchell. London: Sceptre, 2014.
Hill, Victor: Wohlzheim: a tale of love in the Devil's half century. Kindle edition.
Izner, Claude: The Père-Lachaise mystery. Kindle edition.
James, Peter: Perfect people. Kindle edition.
Kelly, Jim: The great darkness. London: Allison and Busby, 2018.
King, Laurie R.: Island of the mad. Kindle edition.
King, Laurie R.: Mary Russell's war. Kindle edition.
McDermid, Val: Broken ground [audiobook]. Read by Cathleen McCarron. Audible edition.
McDermid, Val: Insidious intent [audiobook]. Read by Saul Reichlin. Audible edition.
McGregor, Jon: Reservoir 13. London: 4th Estate, 2018.
Macrae, Graeme: The disappearance of Adèle Bedeau. Kindle edition.
Macrae, Graeme: His bloody project: documents relating to the case of Roderick Macrae. Kindle edition.
McNamara, Michelle: I'll be gone in the dark: one woman's obsessive search for the Golden State Killer. Kindle edition.
Mancini, Ruth: In the blood. Kindle edition.
Mangan, Lucy: Bookworm: a memoir of childhood reading [audiobook]. Read by the author. Audible edition.
May, Peter: I'll keep you safe [audiobook]. Read by Anna Murray and Peter Forbes. Audible edition.
Mina, Denise: Garnethill. Kindle edition.
Noah, Trevor: Born a crime: stories from a South African childhood. Kindle edition.
Norwich, John Julius: France: a short history [audiobook]. Read by the author. Audible edition.
Raluca, Boangiu: Montpellier en 100 dates. Kindle edition.
Rayner, Jay: The ten (food) commandments. London: Penguin, 2016.
Robertson, Deborah: Declutter: the get-real guide to creating calm from chaos. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: Angel. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: Cragside. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: Dark skies. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: Heavenfield. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: The hermitage. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: High Force. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: Holy Island. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: Seven bridges. Kindle edition.
Ross, LJ: Sycamore Gap. Kindle edition.
Rutherfurd, Edward: Paris. Kindle edition.
Shaw, William: Salt Lane [audiobook]. Read by Jasmine Blackborow. Audible edition.
Stembridge, Gerard: What she saw: a novel. New York: HarperPerennial, 2017.
Symon, Vanda: Overkill. Kindle edition.
Upson, Nicola: Nine lessons [audiobook]. Read by Sandra Duncan. Audible edition.
Ward, Sarah: A deadly thaw [audiobook]. Read by Julia Anthony. Audible edition.
Ward, Sarah: A patient fury. London: Faber, 2017.
Ward, Sarah: The shrouded path. Kindle edition.
Wells, HG: The war of the worlds. Kindle edition.
Thursday, December 28, 2017
2017 books, #46-50
22.11.63, by Stephen King [audiobook]. Read by Craig Wasson. Audible edition.
Wow. Just wow. Jake Epping, a high school teacher, discovers that there's a wormhole in time back to 1958 through the back room of his local diner. The diner owner persuades him to go back in time to prevent the Kennedy assassination in 1963, and Jake has other reasons for making the journey. Life, obviously, intervenes, too... This is an amazing book - the details of life in the 50s, the implications of time travel, the interplay between past and present... Impossible to describe, but wonderful
The dry, by Jane Harper. London: Abacus, 2016.
Three of the Hadler family - mother, daughter and father - are found shot in and around their farmstead; the baby boy survives. It looks like a murder/suicide, but when Aaron Falk, a policeman who has moved away from the area, returns for the funeral, he finds it difficult to believe that Luke would have done this. But then, Luke has always had secrets... and Falk was hounded out of the community after the death of a young boy. There's been a lot of fuss about this as a "literary thriller"; I don't see it as being any more literary than many good crime novels, but on the other hand, it does genuinely work as a thriller. The crushing weight of the Australian drought is almost an extra character, too. Highly recommended.
Boulting's vélosaurus: a linguistic Tour de France, by Ned Boulting. London: Yellow Jersey, 2016.
This is fun and silly, and one to dip in and out of. Boulting has taken French words, a few of which do actually have something to do with cycling, but many of which don't, and thoughtfully provided them with definitions and examples from cycling history. Some of these flights of fancy work wonderfully; some less so; but if you like cycling and French and France, this is a nice book to have by the bed, or if you keep bathroom books...
The hunting season, by Elizabeth Rigbey. London: Penguin, 2007.
Dr Matt Seleckis has never been much of one for the woods, but has moved back to Utah with his wife and young son. After a disturbing incident at the hospital, he's more inclined to accede to his ageing father's request to a father-son hunting trip. While they're preparing, Matt meets an old friend and an unwelcome memory of one particular summer comes back, needing to be explored. This is really claustrophobic with a creeping sense of dread - nothing's quite what it seems, and Matt's world threatens to come crashing down around him.
In bitter chill, by Sarah Ward. London: Faber, 2015.
Rachel Jones and Sophie Jenkins were abducted in 1978; only Rachel returned home. Over thirty years later, Sophie's case is re-opened when her mother commits suicide. And then there is another death. Rachel has taken refuge in a career in genealogy, but realises that the only way she will be able to live with herself in future is to investigate the past, and try to discover what really happened so many years ago. As she does so, she and investigating detectives Sadler, Palmer and Childs uncover layers of deception, and eventually danger. This was unputdownable, and I was very glad to find it was the beginning of a series.
Wow. Just wow. Jake Epping, a high school teacher, discovers that there's a wormhole in time back to 1958 through the back room of his local diner. The diner owner persuades him to go back in time to prevent the Kennedy assassination in 1963, and Jake has other reasons for making the journey. Life, obviously, intervenes, too... This is an amazing book - the details of life in the 50s, the implications of time travel, the interplay between past and present... Impossible to describe, but wonderful
The dry, by Jane Harper. London: Abacus, 2016.
Three of the Hadler family - mother, daughter and father - are found shot in and around their farmstead; the baby boy survives. It looks like a murder/suicide, but when Aaron Falk, a policeman who has moved away from the area, returns for the funeral, he finds it difficult to believe that Luke would have done this. But then, Luke has always had secrets... and Falk was hounded out of the community after the death of a young boy. There's been a lot of fuss about this as a "literary thriller"; I don't see it as being any more literary than many good crime novels, but on the other hand, it does genuinely work as a thriller. The crushing weight of the Australian drought is almost an extra character, too. Highly recommended.
Boulting's vélosaurus: a linguistic Tour de France, by Ned Boulting. London: Yellow Jersey, 2016.
This is fun and silly, and one to dip in and out of. Boulting has taken French words, a few of which do actually have something to do with cycling, but many of which don't, and thoughtfully provided them with definitions and examples from cycling history. Some of these flights of fancy work wonderfully; some less so; but if you like cycling and French and France, this is a nice book to have by the bed, or if you keep bathroom books...
The hunting season, by Elizabeth Rigbey. London: Penguin, 2007.
Dr Matt Seleckis has never been much of one for the woods, but has moved back to Utah with his wife and young son. After a disturbing incident at the hospital, he's more inclined to accede to his ageing father's request to a father-son hunting trip. While they're preparing, Matt meets an old friend and an unwelcome memory of one particular summer comes back, needing to be explored. This is really claustrophobic with a creeping sense of dread - nothing's quite what it seems, and Matt's world threatens to come crashing down around him.
In bitter chill, by Sarah Ward. London: Faber, 2015.
Rachel Jones and Sophie Jenkins were abducted in 1978; only Rachel returned home. Over thirty years later, Sophie's case is re-opened when her mother commits suicide. And then there is another death. Rachel has taken refuge in a career in genealogy, but realises that the only way she will be able to live with herself in future is to investigate the past, and try to discover what really happened so many years ago. As she does so, she and investigating detectives Sadler, Palmer and Childs uncover layers of deception, and eventually danger. This was unputdownable, and I was very glad to find it was the beginning of a series.
Saturday, October 14, 2017
2017 books, #41-45
Gone with the wind, by Margaret Mitchell. Kindle edition.
I keep wondering why I haven't read many more books this year, but we've had some real bricks to read for book group, several of which I didn't quite finish so didn't count as reviewable... This would have been a 993-page paperback so it had to be a Kindle book. I hadn't read this before, although obviously had seen the film. I didn't really enjoy the film because I hated Scarlett so much; and my opinion of her didn't really improve on reading this. (I think she should just have been called Emma to warn the reader; literary Emmas seem uniformly awful.) There are some moments, when she's in Tara with an entire household of hopeless and ailing mouths to feed, when I have some sympathy with her, but as soon as she starts to make her way in the world again, her natural selfishness becomes horribly rapacious, and it's painful. What really did shock me, though, was what I find is called revisionist history of the Reconstruction, and much of that was left out of the film due to the prevailing atmosphere in 1930s America, along with the length of film production. The idea that the Ku Klux Klan's foundation was entirely due to attacks by "uppity free blacks" on white women, though, was somewhat breathtaking, and the stereotyping of Yankee soldiers as opposed to our brave Confederate boys was a little bit nauseating in the current climate. Parts of this book, which was named as America's favourite book (after the Bible) in 2014, definitely explain the romanticism around the Confederate statues in the south, and the myth of the noble Southern slave owner. If you haven't read it, you probably should. I need a palette cleanser in the form of a more neutral account of Reconstruction, though.
Rain dogs, by Adrian McKinty. Kindle edition.
Sean Duffy's still there, in the Troubles, in the rain, in riot gear; but then journalist Lily Bigelow is found dead in the middle of the courtyard of Carrickfergus Castle, having supposedly fallen from the parapet. The castle was locked, though, and the portcullis down; the only real suspect is the castle caretaker, but Duffy just can't find a motive. His superiors are as exasperated as ever at what they see as his tendency to overthink the case, but Duffy won't be bullied or rushed, and uncovers a series of plots involving local and international economic politics. Another terrific book from McKinty.
Triple crown, by Felix Francis [audiobook]. Read by Martin Jarvis. Audible edition.
Jeff Hinckley's at it again in Francis's new thriller. This time, he's investigating horse nobbling at the major US races, the famed "triple crown". He goes undercover as an Irish "lad" (and oh dear, while I love Jarvis, his Irish accent isn't exactly stellar here; nor's his Puerto Rican) in a multinational crew, and keeps in touch with the US authorities with a succession of burner phones. All the classic Francis elements are there - the teaching-us-about-an-unfamiliar-area, the derring-do, the personal peril, the getting-the-girl - and the plot rattles along very well. Hinckley himself, however, is almost a cypher - Sid Halley, Toby Beach and Kit Fielding, just thinking off the top of my head, were memorable characters. Jeff's had three books to prove himself, and we still don't really know any more about him than we did at the beginning. I'll keep reading these because they're immensely entertaining, but it's a bit of a quibble.
The burial hour, by Jeffery Deaver [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Audible edition.
Lincoln and Amelia return; and travel. A nine-year-old girl witnesses a kidnapping in New York; the only thing remaining where the businessman stood is a miniature noose. Shortly afterwards, an almost identical crime happens near Naples. In both cases, the final breaths of the victim are recorded, set to music and put online. Who is "the Composer"? Rhyme and Sachs, all set to get married but bickering about their honeymoon location, fly to Italy to try to find out. I don't think this is one of the best Rhyme books, but hey, it's Deaver, and Rhyme, and Italy, and Deaver's getting a great deal of fun out of taking Rhyme out of his comfort zone and giving him something additional to grumble about. And while Jeff Harding's Italian accent isn't great, it's Jeff Harding. There's a classic rug-being-pulled-out-under-you Deaver moment in there, too, which I enjoyed.
Deep France: a writers yarn in the Béarn, by Celia Brayfield. London: Pan, 2004.
Celia Brayfield's daughter goes off to college, and so rather than stay in London in her empty nest, she takes the gap year she never had and heads off to south west France with her page proofs, her cats (the extremely stupid Duchess, who lives on "Planet Pedigree", the perennially petrified Piglet, and Tarmac, the black one) and some trepidation. The Béarn isn't the Dordogne with its huge proportion of "expat" residents (why we call them expats rather than the more accurate migrants is both obvious and depressing), but there are fair numbers of foreign residents around and despite her very good French, Brayfield seems to stick around mainly with them. This is a lovely book - Brayfield obviously appreciates the slower more sustainable, rhythmic, seasonal way of life, and we hear about a year in a small community in one of the lesser-known bits of France, and recounts the year month by month with accompanying recipes. But she's not sentimental, either; one Kiwi couple's business is almost wiped out in a hard winter, and she's realistic about only really wanting to spend a year living in France. I enjoyed this immensely. As did the previous owner (this is yet another find from the Colts bookcase at Hove station - I really need to start leaving things there), given the various food splashes on the recipe pages... One thing: the last section made me bawl on the train at the sheer optimism of it in terms of freedom of movement., people starting businesses, etc. - it was written in 2002. You might want to leave that section to read in private.
I keep wondering why I haven't read many more books this year, but we've had some real bricks to read for book group, several of which I didn't quite finish so didn't count as reviewable... This would have been a 993-page paperback so it had to be a Kindle book. I hadn't read this before, although obviously had seen the film. I didn't really enjoy the film because I hated Scarlett so much; and my opinion of her didn't really improve on reading this. (I think she should just have been called Emma to warn the reader; literary Emmas seem uniformly awful.) There are some moments, when she's in Tara with an entire household of hopeless and ailing mouths to feed, when I have some sympathy with her, but as soon as she starts to make her way in the world again, her natural selfishness becomes horribly rapacious, and it's painful. What really did shock me, though, was what I find is called revisionist history of the Reconstruction, and much of that was left out of the film due to the prevailing atmosphere in 1930s America, along with the length of film production. The idea that the Ku Klux Klan's foundation was entirely due to attacks by "uppity free blacks" on white women, though, was somewhat breathtaking, and the stereotyping of Yankee soldiers as opposed to our brave Confederate boys was a little bit nauseating in the current climate. Parts of this book, which was named as America's favourite book (after the Bible) in 2014, definitely explain the romanticism around the Confederate statues in the south, and the myth of the noble Southern slave owner. If you haven't read it, you probably should. I need a palette cleanser in the form of a more neutral account of Reconstruction, though.
Rain dogs, by Adrian McKinty. Kindle edition.
Sean Duffy's still there, in the Troubles, in the rain, in riot gear; but then journalist Lily Bigelow is found dead in the middle of the courtyard of Carrickfergus Castle, having supposedly fallen from the parapet. The castle was locked, though, and the portcullis down; the only real suspect is the castle caretaker, but Duffy just can't find a motive. His superiors are as exasperated as ever at what they see as his tendency to overthink the case, but Duffy won't be bullied or rushed, and uncovers a series of plots involving local and international economic politics. Another terrific book from McKinty.
Triple crown, by Felix Francis [audiobook]. Read by Martin Jarvis. Audible edition.
Jeff Hinckley's at it again in Francis's new thriller. This time, he's investigating horse nobbling at the major US races, the famed "triple crown". He goes undercover as an Irish "lad" (and oh dear, while I love Jarvis, his Irish accent isn't exactly stellar here; nor's his Puerto Rican) in a multinational crew, and keeps in touch with the US authorities with a succession of burner phones. All the classic Francis elements are there - the teaching-us-about-an-unfamiliar-area, the derring-do, the personal peril, the getting-the-girl - and the plot rattles along very well. Hinckley himself, however, is almost a cypher - Sid Halley, Toby Beach and Kit Fielding, just thinking off the top of my head, were memorable characters. Jeff's had three books to prove himself, and we still don't really know any more about him than we did at the beginning. I'll keep reading these because they're immensely entertaining, but it's a bit of a quibble.
The burial hour, by Jeffery Deaver [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Audible edition.
Lincoln and Amelia return; and travel. A nine-year-old girl witnesses a kidnapping in New York; the only thing remaining where the businessman stood is a miniature noose. Shortly afterwards, an almost identical crime happens near Naples. In both cases, the final breaths of the victim are recorded, set to music and put online. Who is "the Composer"? Rhyme and Sachs, all set to get married but bickering about their honeymoon location, fly to Italy to try to find out. I don't think this is one of the best Rhyme books, but hey, it's Deaver, and Rhyme, and Italy, and Deaver's getting a great deal of fun out of taking Rhyme out of his comfort zone and giving him something additional to grumble about. And while Jeff Harding's Italian accent isn't great, it's Jeff Harding. There's a classic rug-being-pulled-out-under-you Deaver moment in there, too, which I enjoyed.
Deep France: a writers yarn in the Béarn, by Celia Brayfield. London: Pan, 2004.
Celia Brayfield's daughter goes off to college, and so rather than stay in London in her empty nest, she takes the gap year she never had and heads off to south west France with her page proofs, her cats (the extremely stupid Duchess, who lives on "Planet Pedigree", the perennially petrified Piglet, and Tarmac, the black one) and some trepidation. The Béarn isn't the Dordogne with its huge proportion of "expat" residents (why we call them expats rather than the more accurate migrants is both obvious and depressing), but there are fair numbers of foreign residents around and despite her very good French, Brayfield seems to stick around mainly with them. This is a lovely book - Brayfield obviously appreciates the slower more sustainable, rhythmic, seasonal way of life, and we hear about a year in a small community in one of the lesser-known bits of France, and recounts the year month by month with accompanying recipes. But she's not sentimental, either; one Kiwi couple's business is almost wiped out in a hard winter, and she's realistic about only really wanting to spend a year living in France. I enjoyed this immensely. As did the previous owner (this is yet another find from the Colts bookcase at Hove station - I really need to start leaving things there), given the various food splashes on the recipe pages... One thing: the last section made me bawl on the train at the sheer optimism of it in terms of freedom of movement., people starting businesses, etc. - it was written in 2002. You might want to leave that section to read in private.
2017 books, #36-40
End games in Bordeaux, by Alan Massie. Kindle edition.
Catching up on some books read much, much earlier; it's too easy to leave books on the Kindle unreviewed because you don't physically have to put them anywhere. I read this back in February in Paris; it turned out to be the last part of a 4-volume series, and I might go back and read the rest. D-day has come, and the people of Bordeaux are waiting for the Nazi regime to crumble. In the chaos of the liberation, consciences are examined; punishments are starting to be dealt out; and there's still hope that people who disappeared earlier in the war. Meanwhile Inspecteur Lannes, suspended from duty by his Vichy masters, is searching for a missing girl and uncovering allegations of historic sex abuse. It's a dark, slightly gloomy sort of book which fitted in terrifically with Paris in February...
The lion's mouth, by Anne Holt. Kindle edition.
The Prime Minister of Norway is found dead at her desk, having been shot. The last appointment she had was with a judge who, it turns out, is also an old friend, and has just been appointed chief of an enquiry into the deaths of babies in 1967. As Hanne Willemson returns from her sabbatical in California to lead the investigation, she begins to discover other, more sinister, associations in the corridors of power, and to wonder exactly how corrupt the Norwegian establishment has become. I really enjoy Anne Holt's books - and as a former Home Secretary for Norway, she presumably knows what she's talking about it terms of machinery-of-government!
Swallows and Amazons, by Arthur Ransome. Kindle edition.
A book group book. I saw the recent film when it came out, and really enjoyed it; which meant that the actual plot of this book was somewhat tame in comparison without the additional spy story added in; but had forgotten quite how good the writing was, and how refreshing the children, and their freedom, was. If it's been a while since you read this, or you never have, definitely worth a re-read. I am also remembering the look of joy on the face of one of our members who grew up in Canada, on hearing that this was the first of rather a long series!
A lesson in dying, by Ann Cleeves. Kindle edition.
The school at Heppleburn isn't an entirely happy place to be - the headmaster has a vendetta against a nervous young male teacher, and the PTA is in disarray. The caretaker, George Robson, notices all these things, and is worried about his somewhat scatty daughter joining the PTA. Not as worried, however, as he is when the headmaster is strung up on the basketball hoop in the playground during a parents' Hallowe'en party. Inspector Ramsey investigates, and uncovers a morass of old grudges, incomer/native tensions and one final shattering secret. I enjoyed this a great deal; haven't read any of the Ramsey books until this one.
A bird in the hand, by Ann Cleeves. Kindle edition.
Teenager Tom French is found, binoculars in hand, on the North Norfolk coast; he's been viciously beaten. The floating population at the local bird observatory is shocked, but many of them soon move on to the next twitch. Retired civil servant and keen birdwatcher George Palmer-Jones starts to investigate, and discovers more secrets than he was bargaining for. Again, a new Cleeves series for me and one I'll follow up.
Catching up on some books read much, much earlier; it's too easy to leave books on the Kindle unreviewed because you don't physically have to put them anywhere. I read this back in February in Paris; it turned out to be the last part of a 4-volume series, and I might go back and read the rest. D-day has come, and the people of Bordeaux are waiting for the Nazi regime to crumble. In the chaos of the liberation, consciences are examined; punishments are starting to be dealt out; and there's still hope that people who disappeared earlier in the war. Meanwhile Inspecteur Lannes, suspended from duty by his Vichy masters, is searching for a missing girl and uncovering allegations of historic sex abuse. It's a dark, slightly gloomy sort of book which fitted in terrifically with Paris in February...
The lion's mouth, by Anne Holt. Kindle edition.
The Prime Minister of Norway is found dead at her desk, having been shot. The last appointment she had was with a judge who, it turns out, is also an old friend, and has just been appointed chief of an enquiry into the deaths of babies in 1967. As Hanne Willemson returns from her sabbatical in California to lead the investigation, she begins to discover other, more sinister, associations in the corridors of power, and to wonder exactly how corrupt the Norwegian establishment has become. I really enjoy Anne Holt's books - and as a former Home Secretary for Norway, she presumably knows what she's talking about it terms of machinery-of-government!
Swallows and Amazons, by Arthur Ransome. Kindle edition.
A book group book. I saw the recent film when it came out, and really enjoyed it; which meant that the actual plot of this book was somewhat tame in comparison without the additional spy story added in; but had forgotten quite how good the writing was, and how refreshing the children, and their freedom, was. If it's been a while since you read this, or you never have, definitely worth a re-read. I am also remembering the look of joy on the face of one of our members who grew up in Canada, on hearing that this was the first of rather a long series!
A lesson in dying, by Ann Cleeves. Kindle edition.
The school at Heppleburn isn't an entirely happy place to be - the headmaster has a vendetta against a nervous young male teacher, and the PTA is in disarray. The caretaker, George Robson, notices all these things, and is worried about his somewhat scatty daughter joining the PTA. Not as worried, however, as he is when the headmaster is strung up on the basketball hoop in the playground during a parents' Hallowe'en party. Inspector Ramsey investigates, and uncovers a morass of old grudges, incomer/native tensions and one final shattering secret. I enjoyed this a great deal; haven't read any of the Ramsey books until this one.
A bird in the hand, by Ann Cleeves. Kindle edition.
Teenager Tom French is found, binoculars in hand, on the North Norfolk coast; he's been viciously beaten. The floating population at the local bird observatory is shocked, but many of them soon move on to the next twitch. Retired civil servant and keen birdwatcher George Palmer-Jones starts to investigate, and discovers more secrets than he was bargaining for. Again, a new Cleeves series for me and one I'll follow up.
2017 books, #31-35
Another day in the death of America, by Gary Younge. London: Guardian Books, 2016.
Gary Younge picked a random 24 hours in the US, and the stories of 10 random children and young people killed by guns in that period. The kids range from 8 to 20 years old, from a variety of backgrounds and ethnic origins; and in many cases, the deaths didn't even make the local news. The individual stories are heartbreaking; but the sheer banality of death by gun violence, and its acceptance by many families, is the most horrifying aspect of this book. Younge interweaves the history of, and attitudes to, firearms into the separate stories as a powerful howl of rage against the situation.
The absence of guilt, by Mark Gimenez [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Oxford: ISIS, 2017.
The Super Bowl is due to happen in Dallas, and the authorities uncover a plot to use a weapon of mass destruction inside the stadium. A hate preacher is arrested and the president announces "We won!" on national TV. Unfortunately, there's one snag: there's no evidence of a connection between the plot and the preacher. That problem falls to new US district judge A. Scott Fenney; is he holding an innocent man, and if so, who are the guilty ones? This is extremely well plotted with a good reveal towards the end. It's also really quite hawkish and strays from anti-extremist to anti-Muslim an uncomfortable number of times. Rather like the Vince Flynn books, it's slightly "know your enemies". Having said that, Judge Fenney is a good guy, and so are the characters immediately surrounding him. I'd try another by this author, if Jeff Harding were reading it...
Blazing saddles: the cruel and unusual history of the Tour de France, by Matt Rendell. London: Quercus, 2007.
Matt Rendell's wild sense of humour is in evidence here; but he's also put together a great year-by-year history of the Tour with some anecdotes and a lot of fact (and some seriously good photos). You get a really good sense of the different eras. What comes over most, though, is the sheer lunacy of Henri Desgrange, the founder of the Tour and its first director, a man who said that the ideal Tour would be one only one rider could finish. Obviously it's slightly dated now, but still an excellent read.
Presumed guilty: the British legal system exposed, by Michael Mansfield with Tony Wardle. London: Mandarin, 1994.
Michael Mansfield looks at miscarriages of justice in the British legal system, after his experience of representing the Birmingham Six and other high-profile cases. The case he examines, though, is the murder of a man in a High Wycombe café in 1989, and the trial, conviction and subsequent acquittal of a man called Talat Sarwar. Mansfield presents a compelling case for the adoption of the juge d'instruction system used in France, and includes a detailed description of how French prosecutors work with investigators, something I've found quite difficult to understand in the past. Some of the things Mansfield recommends have been adopted in the 23 years since this book was written; some of the things he deplores have been reinforced. A very interesting read, anyway.
Re: cycling: 200 years on two wheels, by Michael Hutchinson. London: Bloomsbury Sport, 2017.
An immensely entertaining history of cycling, from the earliest machines to the present day. What I particularly like about this book is the social history element - the amount of freedom which cycling was able to give people, particularly women (and the kerfuffle about appropriate cycling attire for women is a sad and hilarious section), and the class perceptions of the activity at different periods in history. There's also a thread running through which explains why the phenomenon of the competitive British road cyclist is relatively new, and includes Hutchinson's own history as a champion time-triallist.
Gary Younge picked a random 24 hours in the US, and the stories of 10 random children and young people killed by guns in that period. The kids range from 8 to 20 years old, from a variety of backgrounds and ethnic origins; and in many cases, the deaths didn't even make the local news. The individual stories are heartbreaking; but the sheer banality of death by gun violence, and its acceptance by many families, is the most horrifying aspect of this book. Younge interweaves the history of, and attitudes to, firearms into the separate stories as a powerful howl of rage against the situation.
The absence of guilt, by Mark Gimenez [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Oxford: ISIS, 2017.
The Super Bowl is due to happen in Dallas, and the authorities uncover a plot to use a weapon of mass destruction inside the stadium. A hate preacher is arrested and the president announces "We won!" on national TV. Unfortunately, there's one snag: there's no evidence of a connection between the plot and the preacher. That problem falls to new US district judge A. Scott Fenney; is he holding an innocent man, and if so, who are the guilty ones? This is extremely well plotted with a good reveal towards the end. It's also really quite hawkish and strays from anti-extremist to anti-Muslim an uncomfortable number of times. Rather like the Vince Flynn books, it's slightly "know your enemies". Having said that, Judge Fenney is a good guy, and so are the characters immediately surrounding him. I'd try another by this author, if Jeff Harding were reading it...
Blazing saddles: the cruel and unusual history of the Tour de France, by Matt Rendell. London: Quercus, 2007.
Matt Rendell's wild sense of humour is in evidence here; but he's also put together a great year-by-year history of the Tour with some anecdotes and a lot of fact (and some seriously good photos). You get a really good sense of the different eras. What comes over most, though, is the sheer lunacy of Henri Desgrange, the founder of the Tour and its first director, a man who said that the ideal Tour would be one only one rider could finish. Obviously it's slightly dated now, but still an excellent read.
Presumed guilty: the British legal system exposed, by Michael Mansfield with Tony Wardle. London: Mandarin, 1994.
Michael Mansfield looks at miscarriages of justice in the British legal system, after his experience of representing the Birmingham Six and other high-profile cases. The case he examines, though, is the murder of a man in a High Wycombe café in 1989, and the trial, conviction and subsequent acquittal of a man called Talat Sarwar. Mansfield presents a compelling case for the adoption of the juge d'instruction system used in France, and includes a detailed description of how French prosecutors work with investigators, something I've found quite difficult to understand in the past. Some of the things Mansfield recommends have been adopted in the 23 years since this book was written; some of the things he deplores have been reinforced. A very interesting read, anyway.
Re: cycling: 200 years on two wheels, by Michael Hutchinson. London: Bloomsbury Sport, 2017.
An immensely entertaining history of cycling, from the earliest machines to the present day. What I particularly like about this book is the social history element - the amount of freedom which cycling was able to give people, particularly women (and the kerfuffle about appropriate cycling attire for women is a sad and hilarious section), and the class perceptions of the activity at different periods in history. There's also a thread running through which explains why the phenomenon of the competitive British road cyclist is relatively new, and includes Hutchinson's own history as a champion time-triallist.
Sunday, August 13, 2017
2017 books, #26-30
The underground railroad, by Colson Whitehead. London: Fleet, 2016.
Cora's life on a cotton plantation in Georgia, where she is an outcast even among her fellow slaves, ends when she's persuaded by Caesar, a recent arrival from Virginia, to run away. Things go badly from the start - Cora kills a young white boy who tries to capture her. Although they find a station on the railroad, and are transported to South Carolina, they are now hunted.
In this book, and this is where the fiction comes in, the Underground Railroad is literally there, a network of hidden railroads with irregular trains flying North to freedom, with engineers, and tunnels, and conductors. As Cora travels, she realises that situations which at first seem benign are actually quite insidious, and that she is endangering the people who shelter her. It's an amazing story. There is, as you'd expect, an awful lot of casual brutality; that part isn't fiction... but it's also a compelling story, and very readable.
Bring me the head of Sergio Garcia! my year of swinging dangerously on the pro golf tour, by Tom Cox. London: Yellow Jersey, 2007.
I have no interest whatever in golf; but I do like the way Tom Cox writes. Turning 30, Cox and his wife decide that he needs to get the teenage desire to be a golf pro out of his system, so he applies to join a minor Tour and competes in various tournaments. This is a lovely account of falling in and out of love with a sport, and a critical look of the culture around golf. Very readable if you like Tom Cox's cat books (he's the chronicler of the late lamented The Bear, AKA @WHYMYCATISSAD).
Peter Pan must die, by John Verdon [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Rearsby, Leics.: WF Howes, 2016.
A Dave Gurney book; and follows the same pattern as the others. Gurney gets involved in a new and potentially dangerous case; his wife alternately sulks and whines at him; things get ever more dangerous and he exceeds his brief but keeps on with the investigation; dangerous things happen; there is resolution. That doesn't mean it isn't a good ride while it's going on (and Jeff Harding does his usual excellent job here) but there is a certain formula, and Verdon isn't as good as someone like Lee Child about varying it up, or telling us something new about his characters. Definitely worth listening to; I'm not convinced I'd have read it in print though.
We'll always have Paris: trying and failing to be French, by Emma Beddington. London: Pan, 2017.
Emma Beddington had a fascination with the French from an early age; she went to French films, envisaged herself sitting moodily outside a Paris café smoking a Gitane, and mugged up on her Gainsbourg and Besson... She met a Frenchman, married, had two children, and then had the chance to live in Paris. And it wasn't at all what she expected. This is the best account I've ever read of being miserable in posh Paris (granted, that's a niche memoir); weirdly, Beddington ended up living just round the corner from where I'd been miserable a a few years before, sitting on benches in the Parc Monceau watching her kids (my au pair charge, in my case), staring through the windows of pâtisseries, dealing with incredibly unfriendly French bureaucracy. It's also an exploration of grief, and some tragedy; but it's also handled with a wonderful honest, humorous sense. And there's a love story at the heart of all this; the central relationship, but also falling in and out of love with cities and the notion of home. Brilliant book. One to be kept, which is a rarity these days.
Death ship, by Jim Kelly. London: Crème de la Crime, 2016.
Kids digging a fort in the sand on Hunstanton Beach unearth a bomb,which explodes. Is it a WWII unexploded bomb, or something newer and more sinister? And is it connected with the new, and contentious, pier being built? Shaw and Valentine are already based in Hunstanton, trying to catch a killer who's handing out poisoned sweets at bus stops, while looking for a missing Dutch tourist who walked out of his hotel one day and disappeared. The more they look into the case, the more confusing all these strands become; and the further back Shaw finds himself digging. Another really excellent book by Kelly, which romps along, and captures the atmosphere of the Norfolk Coast perfectly.
Cora's life on a cotton plantation in Georgia, where she is an outcast even among her fellow slaves, ends when she's persuaded by Caesar, a recent arrival from Virginia, to run away. Things go badly from the start - Cora kills a young white boy who tries to capture her. Although they find a station on the railroad, and are transported to South Carolina, they are now hunted.
In this book, and this is where the fiction comes in, the Underground Railroad is literally there, a network of hidden railroads with irregular trains flying North to freedom, with engineers, and tunnels, and conductors. As Cora travels, she realises that situations which at first seem benign are actually quite insidious, and that she is endangering the people who shelter her. It's an amazing story. There is, as you'd expect, an awful lot of casual brutality; that part isn't fiction... but it's also a compelling story, and very readable.
Bring me the head of Sergio Garcia! my year of swinging dangerously on the pro golf tour, by Tom Cox. London: Yellow Jersey, 2007.
I have no interest whatever in golf; but I do like the way Tom Cox writes. Turning 30, Cox and his wife decide that he needs to get the teenage desire to be a golf pro out of his system, so he applies to join a minor Tour and competes in various tournaments. This is a lovely account of falling in and out of love with a sport, and a critical look of the culture around golf. Very readable if you like Tom Cox's cat books (he's the chronicler of the late lamented The Bear, AKA @WHYMYCATISSAD).
Peter Pan must die, by John Verdon [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Rearsby, Leics.: WF Howes, 2016.
A Dave Gurney book; and follows the same pattern as the others. Gurney gets involved in a new and potentially dangerous case; his wife alternately sulks and whines at him; things get ever more dangerous and he exceeds his brief but keeps on with the investigation; dangerous things happen; there is resolution. That doesn't mean it isn't a good ride while it's going on (and Jeff Harding does his usual excellent job here) but there is a certain formula, and Verdon isn't as good as someone like Lee Child about varying it up, or telling us something new about his characters. Definitely worth listening to; I'm not convinced I'd have read it in print though.
We'll always have Paris: trying and failing to be French, by Emma Beddington. London: Pan, 2017.
Emma Beddington had a fascination with the French from an early age; she went to French films, envisaged herself sitting moodily outside a Paris café smoking a Gitane, and mugged up on her Gainsbourg and Besson... She met a Frenchman, married, had two children, and then had the chance to live in Paris. And it wasn't at all what she expected. This is the best account I've ever read of being miserable in posh Paris (granted, that's a niche memoir); weirdly, Beddington ended up living just round the corner from where I'd been miserable a a few years before, sitting on benches in the Parc Monceau watching her kids (my au pair charge, in my case), staring through the windows of pâtisseries, dealing with incredibly unfriendly French bureaucracy. It's also an exploration of grief, and some tragedy; but it's also handled with a wonderful honest, humorous sense. And there's a love story at the heart of all this; the central relationship, but also falling in and out of love with cities and the notion of home. Brilliant book. One to be kept, which is a rarity these days.
Death ship, by Jim Kelly. London: Crème de la Crime, 2016.
Kids digging a fort in the sand on Hunstanton Beach unearth a bomb,which explodes. Is it a WWII unexploded bomb, or something newer and more sinister? And is it connected with the new, and contentious, pier being built? Shaw and Valentine are already based in Hunstanton, trying to catch a killer who's handing out poisoned sweets at bus stops, while looking for a missing Dutch tourist who walked out of his hotel one day and disappeared. The more they look into the case, the more confusing all these strands become; and the further back Shaw finds himself digging. Another really excellent book by Kelly, which romps along, and captures the atmosphere of the Norfolk Coast perfectly.
2017 books, #21-25
Dominion, by CJ Sansom [audiobook]. Read by Daniel Weyman. Rearsby, Leics.: Clipper, 2012.
It's 1952 and Britain is twelve years into Nazi rule under Lord Beaverbrook, Winston Churchill is leader of the Resistance and the British Jews are being rounded up for deportation to camps on the Isle of Wight. Civil servant David Fitzgerald is recruited to the Resistance and asked to break scientist Frank Muncaster, an old school friend, out of the mental hospital in Birmingham where he has been confined after being accused of killing his brother. This is very cleverly done - you find yourself thinking aaaah every now and then as another piece of the alternative world slots into place - and a good read. Daniel Weyman narrates this very competently and reminds me that a well-read audiobook is a very satisfying thing indeed.
Silence, by Shusaku Endo. London: Picador, 2015. Originally published in 1966.
Portuguese priest Sebastian Rodrigues sets sail for Japan in 1640 to help the suppressed Christians there; and to find out what has happened to his former mentor who is rumoured to have renounced his faith under torture. Rodrigues is idealistic, but life in Japan gradually brings him to the realisation that although there are still faithful people there, his presence is as much of a danger as a comfort to them. This was... interesting... but really, if you want to read an account of a priest examining his usefulness in a hostile environment, you'd be better off with Greene's Power and the Glory. There's a curious lack of detail about daily life in 17th century Japan to distinguish this from the Greene, too.
The wrong side of goodbye, by Michael Connelly. London: Orion, 2016.
A Harry Bosch book; and a good one. Bosch is working for the cold case unit in San Fernando, California, as a retired volunteer detective, and also doing private investigations on the side. He is summoned to a meeting with a billionaire aerospace company owner who is at the end of his life, and tortured by the idea that he may have a living heir. Bosch makes progress quite quickly despite worries about the people who might be interested in his not finding out about living relatives; but at the same time, the "cold case" he's working on, a series of rapes, suddenly starts to heat up again with another suspected attack. This is very good indeed, even by Connelly's usual standards; having read much less than usual this year for whatever reason, I raced through this in a day and really enjoyed it.
Strangers on a train, by Patricia Highsmith. London: Vintage, 1999. Originally published in 1950.
Guy Haines and Charles Bruno meet on a long-distance train; after a night of drinking, Bruno proposes that he dispose of Haines's troublesome estranged wife, in exchange for Guy killing Bruno's hated father. It would, he suggests, be the perfect crime as both would be entirely motiveless. Haines shrugs it off as a chance encounter; but then he leaves a book in Bruno's train carriage with his address in it, and creates a disturbing link between them... I'd forgotten quite how compelling this thriller really was; it seems much more modern than something written in 1950, and most of us in my book group found it unputdownable once we'd started to read it. Very glad to have read it again.
Gun Street girl, by Adrian McKinty. London: Serpent's Tail, 2015.
Sean Duffy has what looks like a double murder and suicide to deal with. But as ever, he seems to be determined to make it as complicated as possible, at least in the eyes of his superiors. The more information he turns up about the suspect, the less convinced he is by the initial view of the case. And then a mysterious American agent, and MI5, turn up on his doorstep. This series continues to be extremely engaging.
It's 1952 and Britain is twelve years into Nazi rule under Lord Beaverbrook, Winston Churchill is leader of the Resistance and the British Jews are being rounded up for deportation to camps on the Isle of Wight. Civil servant David Fitzgerald is recruited to the Resistance and asked to break scientist Frank Muncaster, an old school friend, out of the mental hospital in Birmingham where he has been confined after being accused of killing his brother. This is very cleverly done - you find yourself thinking aaaah every now and then as another piece of the alternative world slots into place - and a good read. Daniel Weyman narrates this very competently and reminds me that a well-read audiobook is a very satisfying thing indeed.
Silence, by Shusaku Endo. London: Picador, 2015. Originally published in 1966.
Portuguese priest Sebastian Rodrigues sets sail for Japan in 1640 to help the suppressed Christians there; and to find out what has happened to his former mentor who is rumoured to have renounced his faith under torture. Rodrigues is idealistic, but life in Japan gradually brings him to the realisation that although there are still faithful people there, his presence is as much of a danger as a comfort to them. This was... interesting... but really, if you want to read an account of a priest examining his usefulness in a hostile environment, you'd be better off with Greene's Power and the Glory. There's a curious lack of detail about daily life in 17th century Japan to distinguish this from the Greene, too.
The wrong side of goodbye, by Michael Connelly. London: Orion, 2016.
A Harry Bosch book; and a good one. Bosch is working for the cold case unit in San Fernando, California, as a retired volunteer detective, and also doing private investigations on the side. He is summoned to a meeting with a billionaire aerospace company owner who is at the end of his life, and tortured by the idea that he may have a living heir. Bosch makes progress quite quickly despite worries about the people who might be interested in his not finding out about living relatives; but at the same time, the "cold case" he's working on, a series of rapes, suddenly starts to heat up again with another suspected attack. This is very good indeed, even by Connelly's usual standards; having read much less than usual this year for whatever reason, I raced through this in a day and really enjoyed it.
Strangers on a train, by Patricia Highsmith. London: Vintage, 1999. Originally published in 1950.
Guy Haines and Charles Bruno meet on a long-distance train; after a night of drinking, Bruno proposes that he dispose of Haines's troublesome estranged wife, in exchange for Guy killing Bruno's hated father. It would, he suggests, be the perfect crime as both would be entirely motiveless. Haines shrugs it off as a chance encounter; but then he leaves a book in Bruno's train carriage with his address in it, and creates a disturbing link between them... I'd forgotten quite how compelling this thriller really was; it seems much more modern than something written in 1950, and most of us in my book group found it unputdownable once we'd started to read it. Very glad to have read it again.
Gun Street girl, by Adrian McKinty. London: Serpent's Tail, 2015.
Sean Duffy has what looks like a double murder and suicide to deal with. But as ever, he seems to be determined to make it as complicated as possible, at least in the eyes of his superiors. The more information he turns up about the suspect, the less convinced he is by the initial view of the case. And then a mysterious American agent, and MI5, turn up on his doorstep. This series continues to be extremely engaging.
Saturday, April 22, 2017
2017 books, #16-20
The apprentice of Split Crow Lane: the story of the Carr's Hill murder, by Jane Housham [audiobook]. Read by Jim Barclay and Anna Bentinck. Rearsby, Leics.: Clipper/WF Howes, 2016.
Sarah Melvin was killed at the age of five in Felling, Newcastle, in 1866; the first suspects were her parents, poor Irish immigrants, but then when the real killer was discovered, it raised as many questions as it answered. While Housham keeps returning to the murder, this is also a wider investigation into notions of sanity and responsibility in Victorian England, an exploration of the treatment of mentally ill prisoners, a look at the early days of Broadmoor, and a discussion of a few similar cases of the era. Really interesting, and genuinely suprising at times.
In the morning I'll be gone, by Adrian McKinty. London: Serpent's Tale, 2014.
Sean Duffy has been demoted for an incident which happened, unseen, during I hear the sirens in the street; he's offered his old rank back, in Special Branch, for agreeing to investigate the escape of an old school friend, IRA commander Dermot McCann, from the Maze Prison in 1984. When visiting McCann's ex-wife, Duffy hears about the unsolved suspicious death of her sister, Lizzie Fitzpatrick, three years earlier. He makes a dangerous bargain, and continues to pursue both cases. As ever, real events are woven carefully into the narrative here, with tremendous effect in the eventual climax of this novel. It's probably just as well I have to wait for the library to come up with the next book...
Zola and the Victorians: censorship in the age of hypocrisy, by Eileen Horne. London: MacLehose, 2015.
Unlike the English Victorians in the first book in this post, nobody comes out well here. Including Emile Zola, who is a hero of mine. I had no idea about the reception of Zola's books in Britain - I read them in French and was captivated enough to want to do a PhD in them - although I did know that they'd scandalised a section of French society. Here, the attitudes expressed 60 years later in the Chatterley case - "would you wish your wife or servant..." - are right to the fore, to the extent that publishers of Zola in English, in however bowdlerised a fashion, were prosecuted for indecency, while copies of the books in French were openly sold. Henry Vizetelly, the publisher involved, is ruined, while Zola seems profoundly indifferent to his fate, quibbling only about his royalties. It's a stunning indictment of hypocritical prudishness, closed-minded Philistinism and a distrust of foreign influences which is depressingly familiar today.
Silent witnesses: the story of forensic science, by Nigel McCrery. London: Arrow, 2014.
I'm told the author of this is the creator of Silent Witness on TV, but as I've never seen it... A short, workmanlike history of forensic science which covers all the usual bases, but less interestingly than Val McDermid's recent similar book. Some interesting additional/alternative test cases for some of the information though. The photos in the middle of the book are stunningly uninformative and could easily have been left out...
To hell on a bike: riding Paris-Roubaix, the toughest race in cycling, by Iain MacGregor. London: Bantam, 2015.
MacGregor cycled from Lands end to John O'Groats in the 1990s, and took up cycling again in his early 40s; after cycling the Etape du Tour in 2013, he looked for another challenge. So why not the "hell of the North", Paris-Roubaix, or its sportive equivalent? This is a nice mixture of a history of the race, some self-deprecating stuff about MacGregor's own cycling prowess, and some excellent interviews with journalists, commentators, former racers and organisers of the race - MacGregor's background in publishing has obviously allowed him to build an impressive contacts book - ending with an account of the ride itself. Very enjoyable and readable; and some really good photos in this one.
Sarah Melvin was killed at the age of five in Felling, Newcastle, in 1866; the first suspects were her parents, poor Irish immigrants, but then when the real killer was discovered, it raised as many questions as it answered. While Housham keeps returning to the murder, this is also a wider investigation into notions of sanity and responsibility in Victorian England, an exploration of the treatment of mentally ill prisoners, a look at the early days of Broadmoor, and a discussion of a few similar cases of the era. Really interesting, and genuinely suprising at times.
In the morning I'll be gone, by Adrian McKinty. London: Serpent's Tale, 2014.
Sean Duffy has been demoted for an incident which happened, unseen, during I hear the sirens in the street; he's offered his old rank back, in Special Branch, for agreeing to investigate the escape of an old school friend, IRA commander Dermot McCann, from the Maze Prison in 1984. When visiting McCann's ex-wife, Duffy hears about the unsolved suspicious death of her sister, Lizzie Fitzpatrick, three years earlier. He makes a dangerous bargain, and continues to pursue both cases. As ever, real events are woven carefully into the narrative here, with tremendous effect in the eventual climax of this novel. It's probably just as well I have to wait for the library to come up with the next book...
Zola and the Victorians: censorship in the age of hypocrisy, by Eileen Horne. London: MacLehose, 2015.
Unlike the English Victorians in the first book in this post, nobody comes out well here. Including Emile Zola, who is a hero of mine. I had no idea about the reception of Zola's books in Britain - I read them in French and was captivated enough to want to do a PhD in them - although I did know that they'd scandalised a section of French society. Here, the attitudes expressed 60 years later in the Chatterley case - "would you wish your wife or servant..." - are right to the fore, to the extent that publishers of Zola in English, in however bowdlerised a fashion, were prosecuted for indecency, while copies of the books in French were openly sold. Henry Vizetelly, the publisher involved, is ruined, while Zola seems profoundly indifferent to his fate, quibbling only about his royalties. It's a stunning indictment of hypocritical prudishness, closed-minded Philistinism and a distrust of foreign influences which is depressingly familiar today.
Silent witnesses: the story of forensic science, by Nigel McCrery. London: Arrow, 2014.
I'm told the author of this is the creator of Silent Witness on TV, but as I've never seen it... A short, workmanlike history of forensic science which covers all the usual bases, but less interestingly than Val McDermid's recent similar book. Some interesting additional/alternative test cases for some of the information though. The photos in the middle of the book are stunningly uninformative and could easily have been left out...
To hell on a bike: riding Paris-Roubaix, the toughest race in cycling, by Iain MacGregor. London: Bantam, 2015.
MacGregor cycled from Lands end to John O'Groats in the 1990s, and took up cycling again in his early 40s; after cycling the Etape du Tour in 2013, he looked for another challenge. So why not the "hell of the North", Paris-Roubaix, or its sportive equivalent? This is a nice mixture of a history of the race, some self-deprecating stuff about MacGregor's own cycling prowess, and some excellent interviews with journalists, commentators, former racers and organisers of the race - MacGregor's background in publishing has obviously allowed him to build an impressive contacts book - ending with an account of the ride itself. Very enjoyable and readable; and some really good photos in this one.
Saturday, March 25, 2017
2017 books, #11-15
Cast iron, by Peter May. London: riverrun, 2017.
The sixth, and presumably last, of the Enzo books - although Enzo's wager with Roger Raffin covers seven historic cases, all the loose ends are tied up in this book and it seems very final. Which is a shame, as this is an immensely entertaining cast of characters. In this book, though, Enzo is looking for the killer of Lucie Martin, a 20-year-old girl found in a dry lake bed years after her disappearance. The killing has always been blamed on Régis Blanc, a serial strangler who was known to Lucie, but Enzo isn't so sure, and Blanc has always denied the killing. Meanwhile, Enzo's investigation is putting his daughter and her fiancé in danger. Excellent plotting, the sort of book you devour in a couple of sittings. I'm going to miss this series.
Ashes of London, by Andrew Taylor [audiobook]. Read by Leighton Pugh. Rearsby, Leics.: WF Howes/Harper Audio, 2016.
In the aftermath of the Great Fire of London, a body is found in a tomb which ought to be empty; James Marwood is asked by the government to investigate. Marwood has no choice - he's the son of a printer who was disgraced for Republicanism and who is now deeply affected by dementia - but the investigation takes him deeper into political intrigue and danger. I sort of enjoyed this - but I found it really difficult to remain concentrated on it, despite the reader being a good one.
Medium raw: a bloody Valentine to the world of food and the people who cook, by Anthony Bourdain. London: Bloomsbury, 2010.
This has all the hallmarks of classic Bourdain - hundred-miles-an-hour, no-holds-barred, full-frontal writing; but from ten years after Kitchen confidential opened up many doors to the restaurant world, and after Cook's tour gave Bourdain the opportunity to travel all over the world in the search for exotic food. Starting, shockingly, with the consumption of ortolans, Bourdain writes about the world of cooks and restaurants and food producers, and also about the difference in himself between the angry, burned-out man who wrote Kitchen confidential and the husband and father he is by 2010. Excellent book.
Long time dead, by Tony Black [audiobook]. Read by Darth Cruickshank. Oxford: Isis, 2010.
This is the fourth one in a series, which may be why I felt as if I was slightly missing information all the way through. Anyway; Gus Dury is taken to hospital after a hit-and-run, but his alcoholism is causing worse problems. His best friend Hod asks him to investigate the on-campus hanging of an Edinburgh University student with a rich, high-profile mother who has promised a large reward. Gus needs the money, and gets a janitor's job at the university so he can take a look into the case; he uncovers a similar hanging which happened in the 1970s, and realises his life is in danger. I enjoyed this; but I'm not convinced I'll be looking for others in the series.
I hear the sirens in the street, by Adrian McKinty. London: Serpent's Tail, 2014.
Sean Duffy, back at work after the events of The cold cold ground, is given the case of a torso found in a suitcase. When he tracks the suitcase back to its previous owner, he finds another murder, that of a UVF soldier; everything becomes more complicated, step by step. And then there's the Troubles to deal with... Another excellent, gripping read with the background of the Falklands War...
The sixth, and presumably last, of the Enzo books - although Enzo's wager with Roger Raffin covers seven historic cases, all the loose ends are tied up in this book and it seems very final. Which is a shame, as this is an immensely entertaining cast of characters. In this book, though, Enzo is looking for the killer of Lucie Martin, a 20-year-old girl found in a dry lake bed years after her disappearance. The killing has always been blamed on Régis Blanc, a serial strangler who was known to Lucie, but Enzo isn't so sure, and Blanc has always denied the killing. Meanwhile, Enzo's investigation is putting his daughter and her fiancé in danger. Excellent plotting, the sort of book you devour in a couple of sittings. I'm going to miss this series.
Ashes of London, by Andrew Taylor [audiobook]. Read by Leighton Pugh. Rearsby, Leics.: WF Howes/Harper Audio, 2016.
In the aftermath of the Great Fire of London, a body is found in a tomb which ought to be empty; James Marwood is asked by the government to investigate. Marwood has no choice - he's the son of a printer who was disgraced for Republicanism and who is now deeply affected by dementia - but the investigation takes him deeper into political intrigue and danger. I sort of enjoyed this - but I found it really difficult to remain concentrated on it, despite the reader being a good one.
Medium raw: a bloody Valentine to the world of food and the people who cook, by Anthony Bourdain. London: Bloomsbury, 2010.
This has all the hallmarks of classic Bourdain - hundred-miles-an-hour, no-holds-barred, full-frontal writing; but from ten years after Kitchen confidential opened up many doors to the restaurant world, and after Cook's tour gave Bourdain the opportunity to travel all over the world in the search for exotic food. Starting, shockingly, with the consumption of ortolans, Bourdain writes about the world of cooks and restaurants and food producers, and also about the difference in himself between the angry, burned-out man who wrote Kitchen confidential and the husband and father he is by 2010. Excellent book.
Long time dead, by Tony Black [audiobook]. Read by Darth Cruickshank. Oxford: Isis, 2010.
This is the fourth one in a series, which may be why I felt as if I was slightly missing information all the way through. Anyway; Gus Dury is taken to hospital after a hit-and-run, but his alcoholism is causing worse problems. His best friend Hod asks him to investigate the on-campus hanging of an Edinburgh University student with a rich, high-profile mother who has promised a large reward. Gus needs the money, and gets a janitor's job at the university so he can take a look into the case; he uncovers a similar hanging which happened in the 1970s, and realises his life is in danger. I enjoyed this; but I'm not convinced I'll be looking for others in the series.
I hear the sirens in the street, by Adrian McKinty. London: Serpent's Tail, 2014.
Sean Duffy, back at work after the events of The cold cold ground, is given the case of a torso found in a suitcase. When he tracks the suitcase back to its previous owner, he finds another murder, that of a UVF soldier; everything becomes more complicated, step by step. And then there's the Troubles to deal with... Another excellent, gripping read with the background of the Falklands War...
Sunday, March 12, 2017
2017 books, #6-10
The hanging tree, by Ben Aaronovitch. London: Gollancz, 2016.
The sixth of the Peter Grant series, and another really enjoyable read. A young girl is found dead at a party of Bright (and Drugged-up) Young Things, and Lady Ty's daughter is present. Peter is called in because he owes Lady Ty a favour, and because it's probably not politic to have the daughters of river gods involved in this sort of thing. So we have a combination of Peter, the super-rich, magic and the river gods. What could possibly go wrong? If you haven't picked up this series before, do. But start at the beginning or parts of this will make no sense whatsoever. Only regret is that I raced through it way too fast...
Cold earth, by Ann Cleeves [audiobook]. Read by Kenny Blyth. Oxford: Isis, 2016.
During the funeral of Magnus Tait, a landslide crashes through what should have been an abandoned croft, and the body of a beautiful woman in a red dress is found in the wreckage. Jimmy Perez has no idea who she is, and starts to investigate; then he finds the woman was already dead when the landslide hit. As he tracks the woman back through her stay on the island, he begins to realise that he is stirring up a number of vested interests including the oil companies which give Shetland their prosperity. I don't know why I really didn't quite get into this book; the reader is good; the plot is well-done. Maybe I was just distracted by other things. I may go back and read/listen to this one again before the next one comes out...
Fear of 13. Netflix.
A bit unusual, as this isn't a book or an audiobook, but it might as well have been the latter; you could listen to it without the visuals, as the majority of the visual content is watching one man sitting on a chair telling his story of wrongful conviction. It's quite disorienting, because you find out a lot about Nick Yarris's life inside prison, and his state of mind, before you ever find out how and why he ended up on Death Row for 21 years. It's two hours of intense, very moving narrative delivered like a one-man show - it's no wonder that Yarris now makes part of his living in public speaking.
A very English scandal: sex, lies and a murder plot at the heart of the establishment, by John Preston. London: Penguin Viking, 2016.
This is a story I vaguely remember from childhood, but didn't understand properly at the time; it's Jeremy Thorpe, and the attempted murder of his lover Norman Scott. As the child of card-carrying Liberals, I remember the shock when he resigned, and the scandal of the trial, but not much else. This book gives short biographies of everyone involved, who might have known what and when, and how much coverup there actually was (spoiler: a lot). And it's all very readable.
Trieste and the meaning of nowhere, by Jan Morris. London: Faber, 2002.
Trieste is literally neither here nor there, a place which no country has really seemed to want over the centuries and which has ended up as the tag-end of Italy, nearer former Yugoslavia than anywhere else, and without its original purpose as a trading port for the whole Mediterranean. Morris writes lovingly about it - the first visit, as a young soldier during World War II, and the subsequent ones - but also slightly wonderingly, not really being able to pin down its charm. It's a memoir of the city, and also of Morris herself. Not a lot happens, but I have a strong desire to visit it and just be a flâneuse in this city.
The sixth of the Peter Grant series, and another really enjoyable read. A young girl is found dead at a party of Bright (and Drugged-up) Young Things, and Lady Ty's daughter is present. Peter is called in because he owes Lady Ty a favour, and because it's probably not politic to have the daughters of river gods involved in this sort of thing. So we have a combination of Peter, the super-rich, magic and the river gods. What could possibly go wrong? If you haven't picked up this series before, do. But start at the beginning or parts of this will make no sense whatsoever. Only regret is that I raced through it way too fast...
Cold earth, by Ann Cleeves [audiobook]. Read by Kenny Blyth. Oxford: Isis, 2016.
During the funeral of Magnus Tait, a landslide crashes through what should have been an abandoned croft, and the body of a beautiful woman in a red dress is found in the wreckage. Jimmy Perez has no idea who she is, and starts to investigate; then he finds the woman was already dead when the landslide hit. As he tracks the woman back through her stay on the island, he begins to realise that he is stirring up a number of vested interests including the oil companies which give Shetland their prosperity. I don't know why I really didn't quite get into this book; the reader is good; the plot is well-done. Maybe I was just distracted by other things. I may go back and read/listen to this one again before the next one comes out...
Fear of 13. Netflix.
A bit unusual, as this isn't a book or an audiobook, but it might as well have been the latter; you could listen to it without the visuals, as the majority of the visual content is watching one man sitting on a chair telling his story of wrongful conviction. It's quite disorienting, because you find out a lot about Nick Yarris's life inside prison, and his state of mind, before you ever find out how and why he ended up on Death Row for 21 years. It's two hours of intense, very moving narrative delivered like a one-man show - it's no wonder that Yarris now makes part of his living in public speaking.
A very English scandal: sex, lies and a murder plot at the heart of the establishment, by John Preston. London: Penguin Viking, 2016.
This is a story I vaguely remember from childhood, but didn't understand properly at the time; it's Jeremy Thorpe, and the attempted murder of his lover Norman Scott. As the child of card-carrying Liberals, I remember the shock when he resigned, and the scandal of the trial, but not much else. This book gives short biographies of everyone involved, who might have known what and when, and how much coverup there actually was (spoiler: a lot). And it's all very readable.
Trieste and the meaning of nowhere, by Jan Morris. London: Faber, 2002.
Trieste is literally neither here nor there, a place which no country has really seemed to want over the centuries and which has ended up as the tag-end of Italy, nearer former Yugoslavia than anywhere else, and without its original purpose as a trading port for the whole Mediterranean. Morris writes lovingly about it - the first visit, as a young soldier during World War II, and the subsequent ones - but also slightly wonderingly, not really being able to pin down its charm. It's a memoir of the city, and also of Morris herself. Not a lot happens, but I have a strong desire to visit it and just be a flâneuse in this city.
Sunday, January 29, 2017
2017 books, #1-5
Inferno, by Dan Brown [audiobook]. Read by Paul Michael. Rearsby, Leics: Clipper, 2013.
This is, of course, dreadful tosh. But a good shout at the CD player over New Year was welcome, and although it was initially a disappointment that Jeff Harding wasn't reading this one as well, the reader was excellent, particularly in the area of Italian pronunciation. There was so much wrong with the Dante part of this that I won't even start; and the setup so that Robert Langdon could mansplain his way round another landscape was as clunky as ever. But there were some pleasing plot twists, and a lot of knitting, tidying up and reading was done while listening to this.
The cold cold ground, by Adrian McKinty. London: Serpent's Tail, 2012.
I heard about this author via @TriciaindaHouse on Twitter - an excellent source for book recommendations if you like the sort of thing I review here. This is a brilliant book, and happily it's the first in an ongoing series. Sean Duffy is a rare bird, a Catholic sergeant in the RUC in the spring of 1981. Most of his work is in attempting to contain sectarian violence, but then he comes across a very odd case - two killings of gay men within a matter of hours. Is this the work of a serial killer, or something different? There are some great "period details" here - high-security visits of Margaret Thatcher, the IRA hunger strikers, the backdrop of the Royal Wedding - and also some shocking reminders of how totally abnormal life in the North was at the time. Highly recommended. I've already got the second one on reserve.
Saturday requiem, by Nicci French [audiobook]. Read by Beth Chalmers. Rearsby, Leics.: Clipper, 2016.
It was a completely open and shut case when 18-year-old Hannah Docherty was arrested for the murder of her mother, father and brother, and she's been incarcerated in a secure hospital ever since. When Frieda Klein, a psychotherapist, is asked by the police to assess Hannah, she is horrified and haunted by the girl's condition, and begins to investigate the circumstances of the murders. What she finds makes her doubt both her own sanity, and Hannah's guilt. This is tightly plotted and fascinating.
Paper towns, by John Green. London: Bloomsbury, 2010.
Margo Roth Spiegelman is Quentin Jacobsen's next door neighbour, and an awesome rebel. Q has been in love with her forever, and is amazed when she commandeers him to go on a riotous, night-long revenge prank. And then Margo disappears. The phenomenon of paper towns was unfamiliar to me until I read this book... The setup, and to an extent the main character, who is not the narrator, is familiar from Green's Looking for Alaska, but this is an altogether different thing, and makes you laugh and cry, and believe, as I did as a teenager, that dysfunctional teens are probably the best.
The strange case of the composer and his judge, by Patricia Duncker [audiobook]. Read by Maggie Mash. Rearsby, Leics.: Clipper, 2010.
Hunters in the Jura come across a strange sight: a semi-circle of dead bodies, staring upwards into the sky. Dominique Carpentier, a judge with more than a passing interest in cults, is called up by a policeman who is also her old lover; the pair start to investigate, and realise that there is a connection between the dead and a composer and conductor, Friedrich Grosz. This is a strange sort of book - half police procedural, half a search into a mystical realm, and I'm not entirely sure it's successful; but it's a good listen, with an excellent reader.
This is, of course, dreadful tosh. But a good shout at the CD player over New Year was welcome, and although it was initially a disappointment that Jeff Harding wasn't reading this one as well, the reader was excellent, particularly in the area of Italian pronunciation. There was so much wrong with the Dante part of this that I won't even start; and the setup so that Robert Langdon could mansplain his way round another landscape was as clunky as ever. But there were some pleasing plot twists, and a lot of knitting, tidying up and reading was done while listening to this.
The cold cold ground, by Adrian McKinty. London: Serpent's Tail, 2012.
I heard about this author via @TriciaindaHouse on Twitter - an excellent source for book recommendations if you like the sort of thing I review here. This is a brilliant book, and happily it's the first in an ongoing series. Sean Duffy is a rare bird, a Catholic sergeant in the RUC in the spring of 1981. Most of his work is in attempting to contain sectarian violence, but then he comes across a very odd case - two killings of gay men within a matter of hours. Is this the work of a serial killer, or something different? There are some great "period details" here - high-security visits of Margaret Thatcher, the IRA hunger strikers, the backdrop of the Royal Wedding - and also some shocking reminders of how totally abnormal life in the North was at the time. Highly recommended. I've already got the second one on reserve.
Saturday requiem, by Nicci French [audiobook]. Read by Beth Chalmers. Rearsby, Leics.: Clipper, 2016.
It was a completely open and shut case when 18-year-old Hannah Docherty was arrested for the murder of her mother, father and brother, and she's been incarcerated in a secure hospital ever since. When Frieda Klein, a psychotherapist, is asked by the police to assess Hannah, she is horrified and haunted by the girl's condition, and begins to investigate the circumstances of the murders. What she finds makes her doubt both her own sanity, and Hannah's guilt. This is tightly plotted and fascinating.
Paper towns, by John Green. London: Bloomsbury, 2010.
Margo Roth Spiegelman is Quentin Jacobsen's next door neighbour, and an awesome rebel. Q has been in love with her forever, and is amazed when she commandeers him to go on a riotous, night-long revenge prank. And then Margo disappears. The phenomenon of paper towns was unfamiliar to me until I read this book... The setup, and to an extent the main character, who is not the narrator, is familiar from Green's Looking for Alaska, but this is an altogether different thing, and makes you laugh and cry, and believe, as I did as a teenager, that dysfunctional teens are probably the best.
The strange case of the composer and his judge, by Patricia Duncker [audiobook]. Read by Maggie Mash. Rearsby, Leics.: Clipper, 2010.
Hunters in the Jura come across a strange sight: a semi-circle of dead bodies, staring upwards into the sky. Dominique Carpentier, a judge with more than a passing interest in cults, is called up by a policeman who is also her old lover; the pair start to investigate, and realise that there is a connection between the dead and a composer and conductor, Friedrich Grosz. This is a strange sort of book - half police procedural, half a search into a mystical realm, and I'm not entirely sure it's successful; but it's a good listen, with an excellent reader.
Saturday, December 31, 2016
2016 books, #86-90
Freeze frame, by Peter May. Kindle edition.
I'm starting to become quite freaked out with the coincidences in locations with this series of books - I read this while in Morocco for work in November, and one of the first scenes is set in the 1960 Agadir earthquake. Then two days later, we were in a museum looking at a painting of the 1960 Agadir earthquake... Anyway; this is another excellent Enzo Macleod mystery, which spans 60 years. Enzo is asked by a man's widow to look at his study and try to figure out the clues he left 20 years ago for his son, who died shortly after him without being able to work out who had killed his father. The mystery takes Enzo to an island off the coast of Brittany - the man who was tried, and acquitted, of the murder is still around, and many of the locals don't want the story brought to life again. As ever, Enzo doesn't let this deter him; even though things in his private life are doing their best to distract him...
The box of delights, by John Masefield. London: Egmont, 2014.
I'd forgotten quite how enjoyable this book was; and also that it was the companion to The midnight folk, which I'll have to track down and re-read. Kay Harker comes home from school for Christmas, but some mysterious characters share a carriage with him, and a strange man at the station tells him that The wolves are running... Then his and his siblings' guardian is called to London at short notice and doesn't reappear, and clergy start disappearing from the Cathedral... A creepy Christmas tale for all ages.
No man's land, by GM Ford [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Bath: BBC Audio, 2008.
Frank Corso is summoned to a high-security prison, where inmates have taken over. The ringleader, Timothy Driver, is the subject of one of Corso's biographies, and demands Corso come in and talk to him. Subsequently Driver kidnaps Corso, and he and another prisoner escape. Corso is dragged along during a killing spree; and a television journalist is also trying to track Driver and his companion down. This ought to have been thrilling, and it's read as ably as ever by Jeff Harding, but I did find my attention drifting from time to time...
Fatal pursuit, by Martin Walker. London: Quercus, 2016.
Bruno, chief of police in the Dordogne town of St Denis, is supervising a vintage car rally when news comes that a man has died on the outskirts of the village. It looks like a natural death - the man is elderly, overweight and has a terrible diet - but Bruno's just not sure. He can't find the papers the man is meant to have been working on, and there are no files on his computer relating to his current commission. Meanwhile he's also dealing with a family feud, the car rally and the presence of his old flame Isabelle who has been stationed nearby dealing with a high-level fraud investigation. This series continues to charm, and also to wrap up satisfying plots; bravo.
Blowback, by Peter May. Kindle edition.
Enzo Macleod's fifth cold case from Roger Raffin's book takes him to a chateau in the Jura, home and restaurant to three-star Michelin chef Marc Fraysse, who was murdered seven years before. He has a limited amount of time to investigate as the restaurant is about to close for the winter season, but he has a mole in the kitchen staff already, and the cooperation, at least initially, of Fraysse's family. As he investigates, though, he digs up a mass of seething sibling resentment, betrayal and infidelity which both put him into danger and lead to disturbing parallels with his own life. Another excellent outing for Enzo.
I'm starting to become quite freaked out with the coincidences in locations with this series of books - I read this while in Morocco for work in November, and one of the first scenes is set in the 1960 Agadir earthquake. Then two days later, we were in a museum looking at a painting of the 1960 Agadir earthquake... Anyway; this is another excellent Enzo Macleod mystery, which spans 60 years. Enzo is asked by a man's widow to look at his study and try to figure out the clues he left 20 years ago for his son, who died shortly after him without being able to work out who had killed his father. The mystery takes Enzo to an island off the coast of Brittany - the man who was tried, and acquitted, of the murder is still around, and many of the locals don't want the story brought to life again. As ever, Enzo doesn't let this deter him; even though things in his private life are doing their best to distract him...
The box of delights, by John Masefield. London: Egmont, 2014.
I'd forgotten quite how enjoyable this book was; and also that it was the companion to The midnight folk, which I'll have to track down and re-read. Kay Harker comes home from school for Christmas, but some mysterious characters share a carriage with him, and a strange man at the station tells him that The wolves are running... Then his and his siblings' guardian is called to London at short notice and doesn't reappear, and clergy start disappearing from the Cathedral... A creepy Christmas tale for all ages.
No man's land, by GM Ford [audiobook]. Read by Jeff Harding. Bath: BBC Audio, 2008.
Frank Corso is summoned to a high-security prison, where inmates have taken over. The ringleader, Timothy Driver, is the subject of one of Corso's biographies, and demands Corso come in and talk to him. Subsequently Driver kidnaps Corso, and he and another prisoner escape. Corso is dragged along during a killing spree; and a television journalist is also trying to track Driver and his companion down. This ought to have been thrilling, and it's read as ably as ever by Jeff Harding, but I did find my attention drifting from time to time...
Fatal pursuit, by Martin Walker. London: Quercus, 2016.
Bruno, chief of police in the Dordogne town of St Denis, is supervising a vintage car rally when news comes that a man has died on the outskirts of the village. It looks like a natural death - the man is elderly, overweight and has a terrible diet - but Bruno's just not sure. He can't find the papers the man is meant to have been working on, and there are no files on his computer relating to his current commission. Meanwhile he's also dealing with a family feud, the car rally and the presence of his old flame Isabelle who has been stationed nearby dealing with a high-level fraud investigation. This series continues to charm, and also to wrap up satisfying plots; bravo.
Blowback, by Peter May. Kindle edition.
Enzo Macleod's fifth cold case from Roger Raffin's book takes him to a chateau in the Jura, home and restaurant to three-star Michelin chef Marc Fraysse, who was murdered seven years before. He has a limited amount of time to investigate as the restaurant is about to close for the winter season, but he has a mole in the kitchen staff already, and the cooperation, at least initially, of Fraysse's family. As he investigates, though, he digs up a mass of seething sibling resentment, betrayal and infidelity which both put him into danger and lead to disturbing parallels with his own life. Another excellent outing for Enzo.
2016 books, #81-85
Bringing in the sheaves: wheat and chaff from my years as a priest, by Richard Coles. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 2016.
This is a lovely book. It's based around the church's year, and mixes serious spiritual stuff with the comedy and tragedy of human life as seen by a parish priest. Coles's compassion shines through, and there's some extremely funny stuff which is instantly recognisable to anyone who's been part of a church community. Highly recommended.
Fool me once, by Harlan Coben [audiobook]. Read by January LaVoy. [S.l.]: Bolinda Audio, 2016.
What do you do when you've just buried your husband after his brutal murder in Central Park, but then see him on your nanny-cam? Maya is convinced that Joe is dead, but she also wants to believe the evidence of her own eyes. Joe's family has many hidden secrets; and Maya's not short of those herself. This is another real brain-twisting thriller from Coben, who's the specialist in convincing you you haven't a clue what's going on...
Requiem Mass, by Elizabeth Corley [audiobook]. Read by Jonathan Oliver. Bath: Oakhill, [n. d.]
Andrew Fenwick has just returned to work after the death of his wife; he's assigned a missing persons enquiry which initially he feels is beneath him. Then a teacher is murdered, and it turns out that there is an old link between the two women, and with two or three more. Fenwick becomes convinced that someone is taking revenge for an old tragedy, and he and his colleagues start to hunt the killer. This is a bit long, and not all that tightly-plotted; but Fenwick is well enough drawn that I'll look for more by this author.
A mortal curiosity, by Ann Granger [audiobook]. Read by Laurence Kennedy and Maggie Mash. Rearsby, Leics.: WF Howes, 2011.
Lizzie Martin is sent off to Hampshire to be companion for a teenage woman, Lucy Craven, who has just lost her baby, and whose husband is in China. She is living with two maiden aunts in an isolated house, and Lizzie is worried about Lucy's mental state. So is the mysterious Dr Lefebre, and this opinion seems to be confirmed when Lucy is found crouching over the body of a murdered man, covered in blood; the murder weapon is a knife from the aunts' kitchen. Lizzie calls on Ben Ross, who comes down from London, and the two investigate again. This has a cliffhanger of an ending...
The Green Mill murder, by Kerry Greenwood. London: Constable, 1993.
Phryne Fisher is at a dance marathon with goopish Charles Freeman when a man is stabbed right beside her. Charles vanishes before being questioned by the police, and Phryne is left both to find Charles and to investigate the murder. This is set squarely in the Jazz Age, with the wonderfully named Tintagel Stone and his band, and Phryne's little plane comes into its own here when she has to track down a shellshocked War veteran who has made his home in an isolated part of the Australian bush. Wonderfully entertaining, as ever...
This is a lovely book. It's based around the church's year, and mixes serious spiritual stuff with the comedy and tragedy of human life as seen by a parish priest. Coles's compassion shines through, and there's some extremely funny stuff which is instantly recognisable to anyone who's been part of a church community. Highly recommended.
Fool me once, by Harlan Coben [audiobook]. Read by January LaVoy. [S.l.]: Bolinda Audio, 2016.
What do you do when you've just buried your husband after his brutal murder in Central Park, but then see him on your nanny-cam? Maya is convinced that Joe is dead, but she also wants to believe the evidence of her own eyes. Joe's family has many hidden secrets; and Maya's not short of those herself. This is another real brain-twisting thriller from Coben, who's the specialist in convincing you you haven't a clue what's going on...
Requiem Mass, by Elizabeth Corley [audiobook]. Read by Jonathan Oliver. Bath: Oakhill, [n. d.]
Andrew Fenwick has just returned to work after the death of his wife; he's assigned a missing persons enquiry which initially he feels is beneath him. Then a teacher is murdered, and it turns out that there is an old link between the two women, and with two or three more. Fenwick becomes convinced that someone is taking revenge for an old tragedy, and he and his colleagues start to hunt the killer. This is a bit long, and not all that tightly-plotted; but Fenwick is well enough drawn that I'll look for more by this author.
A mortal curiosity, by Ann Granger [audiobook]. Read by Laurence Kennedy and Maggie Mash. Rearsby, Leics.: WF Howes, 2011.
Lizzie Martin is sent off to Hampshire to be companion for a teenage woman, Lucy Craven, who has just lost her baby, and whose husband is in China. She is living with two maiden aunts in an isolated house, and Lizzie is worried about Lucy's mental state. So is the mysterious Dr Lefebre, and this opinion seems to be confirmed when Lucy is found crouching over the body of a murdered man, covered in blood; the murder weapon is a knife from the aunts' kitchen. Lizzie calls on Ben Ross, who comes down from London, and the two investigate again. This has a cliffhanger of an ending...
The Green Mill murder, by Kerry Greenwood. London: Constable, 1993.
Phryne Fisher is at a dance marathon with goopish Charles Freeman when a man is stabbed right beside her. Charles vanishes before being questioned by the police, and Phryne is left both to find Charles and to investigate the murder. This is set squarely in the Jazz Age, with the wonderfully named Tintagel Stone and his band, and Phryne's little plane comes into its own here when she has to track down a shellshocked War veteran who has made his home in an isolated part of the Australian bush. Wonderfully entertaining, as ever...
2016 books, #76-80
Splinter the silence, by Val McDermid [audiobook]. Read by Saul Reichlin. Rearsby, Leics.: Clipper, 2015.
Carol Jordan is still in exile, renovating her old barn in the Yorkshire hills. Until one night she has more than one too many, and is picked up by a traffic patrol and charged with drunk driving. At her lowest, the only person she can think to call is Tony Hill. But life is about to change for both of them as a result of a Home Office initiative. Carol and Tony are back in harness, chasing a cyber-bully who seems to be driving feminists to suicide. Another excellent book in this series.
Conclave, by Robert Harris. London: Hutchinson, 2016.
This book was completely fascinating. I think anyone following this blog for long will know that a) I'm Catholic and b) I wasn't a fan of the last Pope; so a thriller set at a conclave which might, who knows, elect a progressive Pope was always going to be attractive. This, in a way, reminds me of earlier John Grisham - the setup is brilliant; the characters are well-defined; there are cliffhangers all along the way; and somehow, the ending is ever so slightly disappointing. I don't regret reading it, though.
Jeremy Hutchinson's case histories, by Thomas Grant. London: John Murray, 2016.
Recommendation from Jan - thanks! This is the story of the cases of Jeremy Hutchinson, lawyer to the stars of iconoclasm and freedom of speech from the 1960s onwards. The trial of George Blake, the Profumo affair, the Chatterley trial, right through to Romans in Britain and Mary Whitehouse, told in an entertaining, engaging style which puts the cases into the context of how the world was at the time. One of the books I enjoyed reading as a teenager was a history of Bernard Spilsbury's cases - this is way better. A truly excellent read.
Blacklight blue, by Peter May. Kindle edition.
The third of the Enzo novels; read it in Colmar in September. Which was weird, because it starts in Strasbourg, which I was travelling through at the time... Enzo's daughter Kirsty is caught up in an assassination attempt, he's diagnosed with a terminal illness and his son-in-law's gym burns down, all seemingly in an attempt to stop him investigating another of the unsolved murders detailed in Roger Raffin's book. Enzo establishes his family in a safe house, but the person looking for him is someone with many identities and who will not hesitate to kill. This one has one heck of a twist in the tail...
The murder of Mary Russell, by Laurie R. King. London: Allison and Busby, 2016.
Mrs Hudson comes home to Sussex to find a large pool of blood on the floor, and no sign of Mary Russell. She calls the police, and Holmes; but is aware that all the clues left point directly to her - or, in fact, to Clarissa, the woman she once was. This is much more about Mrs Hudson than it is about Mary or Sherlock Holmes, but it's pretty fascinating for all that, and an interesting exercise in alternative back-stories...
Carol Jordan is still in exile, renovating her old barn in the Yorkshire hills. Until one night she has more than one too many, and is picked up by a traffic patrol and charged with drunk driving. At her lowest, the only person she can think to call is Tony Hill. But life is about to change for both of them as a result of a Home Office initiative. Carol and Tony are back in harness, chasing a cyber-bully who seems to be driving feminists to suicide. Another excellent book in this series.
Conclave, by Robert Harris. London: Hutchinson, 2016.
This book was completely fascinating. I think anyone following this blog for long will know that a) I'm Catholic and b) I wasn't a fan of the last Pope; so a thriller set at a conclave which might, who knows, elect a progressive Pope was always going to be attractive. This, in a way, reminds me of earlier John Grisham - the setup is brilliant; the characters are well-defined; there are cliffhangers all along the way; and somehow, the ending is ever so slightly disappointing. I don't regret reading it, though.
Jeremy Hutchinson's case histories, by Thomas Grant. London: John Murray, 2016.
Recommendation from Jan - thanks! This is the story of the cases of Jeremy Hutchinson, lawyer to the stars of iconoclasm and freedom of speech from the 1960s onwards. The trial of George Blake, the Profumo affair, the Chatterley trial, right through to Romans in Britain and Mary Whitehouse, told in an entertaining, engaging style which puts the cases into the context of how the world was at the time. One of the books I enjoyed reading as a teenager was a history of Bernard Spilsbury's cases - this is way better. A truly excellent read.
Blacklight blue, by Peter May. Kindle edition.
The third of the Enzo novels; read it in Colmar in September. Which was weird, because it starts in Strasbourg, which I was travelling through at the time... Enzo's daughter Kirsty is caught up in an assassination attempt, he's diagnosed with a terminal illness and his son-in-law's gym burns down, all seemingly in an attempt to stop him investigating another of the unsolved murders detailed in Roger Raffin's book. Enzo establishes his family in a safe house, but the person looking for him is someone with many identities and who will not hesitate to kill. This one has one heck of a twist in the tail...
The murder of Mary Russell, by Laurie R. King. London: Allison and Busby, 2016.
Mrs Hudson comes home to Sussex to find a large pool of blood on the floor, and no sign of Mary Russell. She calls the police, and Holmes; but is aware that all the clues left point directly to her - or, in fact, to Clarissa, the woman she once was. This is much more about Mrs Hudson than it is about Mary or Sherlock Holmes, but it's pretty fascinating for all that, and an interesting exercise in alternative back-stories...
Saturday, November 05, 2016
2016 books, #71-75
A rare interest in corpses, by Ann Granger [audiobook]. Read by Maggie Mash and Glen McCready. Rearsby, Leics.: WF Howes, 2006.
In 1864, Lizzie Martin comes to London from Derbyshire, as companion to her godfather's widow. On the way to her employer's house, she sees a body being taken out of a house which is being demolished to make way for the new St Pancras Station. As time goes on, she discovers that the household and the house at St Pancras have a connection, possibly a dangerous one; and that she's already acquainted with the police inspector charged with the investigation. This is tightly-plotted, and I love the details on the building of St Pancras as someone who sees it every day. The dual reading is a nice format, given the two narrators, and there's some real humour here.
Roughing it in the bush, by Susannah Moodie. Kindle edition.
Susannah Moodie and her husband emigrated to Canada in 1832, with their small baby in tow; this is the story of the first few years of their life in the new territory. Susannah is at time exasperating - she has the sententious Christianity of her age - and the poetry at the beginning and end of each chapter did absolutely nothing for me; but it's a fascinating account, occasionally very humorous. It has the attitudes, and language, of its age, but is often very refreshingly not what you'd expect from a Victorian matron. And there's some awful hardship along the way, too. I don't think I'd have carried on with this after the first few chapters if it hadn't been a book-group book; but on the other hand I'd have missed a lot by giving up.
I let you go, by Clare Mackintosh. London: Sphere, 2014.
A five-year-old, Jacob, is killed by a hit-and-run driver; the grieving mother of a dead child runs away to the Welsh coast; two police detectives on the verge of an affair can't let the hit-and-run case go, and continue to investigate. It all seems pretty straightforward for the first half of the book, until there's a breakthrough - and a cliff-edge for the reader worthy of Jeffrey Deaver at his finest. And it all gets even darker. I would warn (and this is slightly spoilery) that if you've found the Helen-and-Rob plot arc on the Archers distressing, this may not be one for you. I found it hard reading at points but the need to know is very strong by that point.
Triumphs and turbulence: my autobiography, by Chris Boardman. London: Ebury, 2016.
Normally, I read for a bit on the train and then pick up my knitting and put on a podcast. I started reading this on Thursday night, had to lever myself away from it to switch the light off, and finished reading on the train nearing home on Friday night. I slightly regret reading this so quickly, but it had to be back at the library on Saturday... This is a wonderful book. If you like Chris Boardman and have heard him commenting and commentating, and podcasting, you can hear this in his own voice. It's self-deprecating, sardonic, funny, often painfully self-critical. Boardman's fully aware of the degree of self-obsession required for performance sport, to the extent of having missed the birth of his second child because he needed to recce a course ahead of a race; and of the difficulty of leaving that mindset after retirement from competition. And there are some great pen-portraits of the people he's worked with and raced with and against over the years, and a sense of the deep debt of gratitude he owes to his wife Sally, who's kept it all together all these years.
One day ahead: a Tour de France misadventure, by Richard Grady. Kindle edition.
You couldn't get a higher contrast to the last one than this book, read on the Eurostar on the way to Alsace in September. Four amateur cyclists decide to race the 2012 Tour route one day ahead of the professional péloton , and rope a motley collection of friends in for the ride and as support workers. It's an occasionally very funny account of the attempt, and the love of France comes through strongly; but it's also an honest, warts-and-all account of what happens when you get eight disparate people, with different expectations and senses of entitlement, living in close quarters in two camper-vans for nearly a month. It's a combination of a tale of massive, heroic endeavour and a warning never to go on holiday with people you don't know well...
In 1864, Lizzie Martin comes to London from Derbyshire, as companion to her godfather's widow. On the way to her employer's house, she sees a body being taken out of a house which is being demolished to make way for the new St Pancras Station. As time goes on, she discovers that the household and the house at St Pancras have a connection, possibly a dangerous one; and that she's already acquainted with the police inspector charged with the investigation. This is tightly-plotted, and I love the details on the building of St Pancras as someone who sees it every day. The dual reading is a nice format, given the two narrators, and there's some real humour here.
Roughing it in the bush, by Susannah Moodie. Kindle edition.
Susannah Moodie and her husband emigrated to Canada in 1832, with their small baby in tow; this is the story of the first few years of their life in the new territory. Susannah is at time exasperating - she has the sententious Christianity of her age - and the poetry at the beginning and end of each chapter did absolutely nothing for me; but it's a fascinating account, occasionally very humorous. It has the attitudes, and language, of its age, but is often very refreshingly not what you'd expect from a Victorian matron. And there's some awful hardship along the way, too. I don't think I'd have carried on with this after the first few chapters if it hadn't been a book-group book; but on the other hand I'd have missed a lot by giving up.
I let you go, by Clare Mackintosh. London: Sphere, 2014.
A five-year-old, Jacob, is killed by a hit-and-run driver; the grieving mother of a dead child runs away to the Welsh coast; two police detectives on the verge of an affair can't let the hit-and-run case go, and continue to investigate. It all seems pretty straightforward for the first half of the book, until there's a breakthrough - and a cliff-edge for the reader worthy of Jeffrey Deaver at his finest. And it all gets even darker. I would warn (and this is slightly spoilery) that if you've found the Helen-and-Rob plot arc on the Archers distressing, this may not be one for you. I found it hard reading at points but the need to know is very strong by that point.
Triumphs and turbulence: my autobiography, by Chris Boardman. London: Ebury, 2016.
Normally, I read for a bit on the train and then pick up my knitting and put on a podcast. I started reading this on Thursday night, had to lever myself away from it to switch the light off, and finished reading on the train nearing home on Friday night. I slightly regret reading this so quickly, but it had to be back at the library on Saturday... This is a wonderful book. If you like Chris Boardman and have heard him commenting and commentating, and podcasting, you can hear this in his own voice. It's self-deprecating, sardonic, funny, often painfully self-critical. Boardman's fully aware of the degree of self-obsession required for performance sport, to the extent of having missed the birth of his second child because he needed to recce a course ahead of a race; and of the difficulty of leaving that mindset after retirement from competition. And there are some great pen-portraits of the people he's worked with and raced with and against over the years, and a sense of the deep debt of gratitude he owes to his wife Sally, who's kept it all together all these years.
One day ahead: a Tour de France misadventure, by Richard Grady. Kindle edition.
You couldn't get a higher contrast to the last one than this book, read on the Eurostar on the way to Alsace in September. Four amateur cyclists decide to race the 2012 Tour route one day ahead of the professional péloton , and rope a motley collection of friends in for the ride and as support workers. It's an occasionally very funny account of the attempt, and the love of France comes through strongly; but it's also an honest, warts-and-all account of what happens when you get eight disparate people, with different expectations and senses of entitlement, living in close quarters in two camper-vans for nearly a month. It's a combination of a tale of massive, heroic endeavour and a warning never to go on holiday with people you don't know well...
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