Books read, August (2019)
Feb. 21st, 2020 04:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cyphomandraStandouts this month were Stephen King's Joyland and Adrian Tchaikovsky's Children of Time, both of which were fantastic and very welcome after the previous month's dry spell.
The Bride Test, Helen Hoang
The Dry, Jane Harper
Joyland, Stephen King
The Heronsbrook Gymkhana, Catherine Harris
Moonlight Sonata, Eileen Merriman
Enquiry, Dick Francis
Brothers in Blood, David Stuart Davies
The Rum Day of the Vanishing Pony, Mary Treadgold
The Punishment She Deserves, Elizabeth George
A Duke by Default, A Princess in Theory, Alyssa Cole
Children of Time, Adrian Tchaikovsky
Cutie and the Beast, The Druid Next Door, Bad Boy Bard, EJ Russell
Their Finest, Lissa Evans
A Scandal in Battersea, Mercedes Lackey
The Bride Test, Helen Hoang. Esme Tran got pregnant young and is struggling to support her family in Ho Chi Minh City; she’s never met her father, but knows he was an American. When Cô Nga offers to pay for her visa and trip to California - in exchange for Esme convincing Cô’s son to marry her - Esme takes the offer. But Khai, the son in question (and cousin of one of the characters from The Kiss Quotient), is autistic, and believes he’s incapable of emotion, even while he’s attracted to Esme… What worked really well for me in this was Esme, who is a character I see far less in fiction than in real life; a hardworking immigrant determined to make a better life for her family even if it means leaving them behind for now. I was less convinced by the romance partly because there’s such a power differential baked in; also, Esme takes a long time to tell Khai about her daughter. But all the characters are great, and it’s a solid story.
The Dry, Jane Harper. Federal agent Aaron returns to his small-minded and drought-stricken hometown for the first time in years for the funeral of an old friend, gunned down with his family under mysterious circumstances; as he gets drawn into the investigation, long-hidden secrets and tensions emerge. The atmosphere in this book is great (and reinforces my personal preference to continue to live in large urban environments), as is the tension, but the ultimate reveal/solutions felt a little too obvious and a bit of a let-down. I will probably read the next in the series, though.
Joyland, Steven King. His second book for Hardcase Crime, with a suitably lurid (accurate but misleading) cover. In 1973 Devin Jones, a university student, takes a summer job at a small independent amusement park, where some years earlier a woman was murdered in the Horror House; the killer was never caught, and the rumour is her ghost still haunts the ride. A lot of the story is, in fact, about Devin becoming an adult; he learns how to work the fair, and discovers his own abilities; his college girlfriend dumps him, and he has to deal with this first, worst loss. But, in the background is the murder, and a fortune told to Devin when he starts at the park; when Devin meets a terminally ill boy, who can see the dead woman’s ghost, it all begins coming together. This is just such a skilled piece of writing that it’s a pleasure to read, controlled and indulgent and deeply moving all at once, dipped heavily in nostalgia but never becoming soggy (hmm. Possibly I need a cup of tea and a biscuit?). What made it for me was the moment when the other ghost visits Devin; who it is, why, and how, when many other authors would have made a different (and weaker) decision.
The Heronsbrook Gymkhana, Catherine Harris. An assortment of characters face the day of the local gymkhana, a key moment for all of them for many and various reasons. Well -handled and reasonable (and I like that we see the adults’ thoughts and feelings as well), but some of the plotlines strain credulity a little.
Moonlight Sonata, Eileen Merriman. This is on the NZ Book Awards novel longlist and fits in nicely with other literary award winners like Kirsty Gunn’s Rain, which is also about a doomed family holiday and equally irritated me. At the annual three generation family get-together Molly dreads having to see her mother, who took Molly away from her twin Joe and her father when they were children for reasons Molly still resents, but enjoys catching up with Joe and her other siblings, and seeing her teenage son interact with his cousins. There is a lot of foreshadowing and flashbacks (including some v clunky teenage don’t-drink-and-drive safety-video style plot twists) and Molly’s son Noah develops a crush on Joe’s daughter Lola, which is unfortunate as the big secret is that Noah is the result of a consensual incestuous relationship between Molly and Joe. In a suitably biblical fashion Noah and Lola then drown in a rip. I was deeply irked by the whole thing and unconvinced by anybody, and I think that I am just not the audience for being sympathetic to sibling incest even if both characters weren’t also cheating on their partners. I know people who know Merriman and am now a little worried that I will encounter her unexpectedly and end up telling not just that I’ve read all her books (which I’m sure she’d be pleased to hear) and that all her endings all suck (which, not).
Enquiry, Dick Francis. One day I shall run out of Dick Francis’ books that I haven’t read yet, and I shall be very sad. Kelly Hughes, a jockey, is called to a commission of enquiry where it becomes clear that someone has framed him for cheating, leaving him and the owner he races for banned. Kelly sets out to find the people responsible. Competent and engrossing, not one of his top ones but a solid B.
Brothers in Blood, David Stuart Davies (DI Paul Snow v1). It turns out that there are quite a lot of books by this title and it took me a while to track down which one I’d meant (I only log titles, plus occasional notes to myself). Three bored teenagers in Yorkshire come up with a game that escalates rapidly to murdering strangers; they meet up throughout the years for further rounds, leaving a trail of unexplained bodies behind, until one of the three is assaulted and calls on the others for revenge, which sets a detective with his own hidden past on to their trail. I liked the initial atmosphere but am ambivalent on detectives who are only one observer away from being criminals. There are another two out and I might skim the next one.
The Rum Day of the Vanishing Pony, Mary Treadgold. Lead character wakes up in a bad mood, argues with her family, decides against selling the horse she’d promised to a local boy, and sets off on a camping trip she had no previous intention of joining, which all entangles her with two intriguing but criminal strangers. I do not think this title works but the story is fine, although it reminded me quite a bit of Antonia Forest’s The Thuggery Affair, which it post-dates (1970 to TTA’s 1965); there’s the same healthy middle class child in the countryside establishes sympathy with alluring city criminals, with a lot of understated but quite brutal violence (at the end there’s a very clear strangling threat, only averted by something that thanks all the subsequent years of medical technology it took me a full five minutes after finishing the book to work out).
The Punishment She Deserves, Elizabeth George. An impressive title that is careful to never specify its target; is it Havers, belatedly trying to keep her head down and save her job, or Isabelle Ardery, her brittle and judgmental superior (formerly in a relationship with Lynley), whose alcoholism is finally spiralling out of control, or any of the non-series characters - the mothers trying and failing to hold on to their children, the teenage girls struggling for independence regardless of risk. The book itself is better than her last few, because Ardery and Havers are great antagonists; when Lynley does show up he feels cardboard by comparison. The investigation, of an apparent suicide in police custody of a priest accused of paedophilia, does get overwhelmed by the sheer mass of the story, but I did like this one. I am not entirely convinced by Havers tap-dancing, however, and I would like at some point to find out what happened to Taymullah and Haddiyah (who feature heavily in my favourite book of the series, Deception on his Mind
A Princess in Theory, A Duke by Default, Alyssa Cole. First two of the Reluctant Royals series. The first is my favourite for the brilliant concept; of course struggling grad student and former foster kid Ledi assumes the emails telling her she’s betrothed to an African prince are just another scam. But then the prince, Thabiso, turns up… I’m not wild that Thabiso hides his identity to get closer to Ledi and I didn’t buy the science plot, but it was fun to read. A Duke by Default has Ledi’s best friend, a hot mess socialite from New York, taking a job as a swordsmith’s apprentice in Edinburgh - the swordsmith, Tavish McKenzie, is brooding, biracial, and also, apparently, the Duke of Edinburgh, which must be a surprise to Prince Philip. While I like Portia’s growth in this and having an ADHD heroine, I was never convinced by the swordsmithing or the Duke bits. It does however have my favourite cover of the series, although they’re all good.
Children of Time, Adrian Tchaikovsky. The first book of his I’ve managed to finish! (I stalled out badly on Guns of the Dawn and have borrowed Empire in Black and Gold a couple of times without managing to read it). A generation ship containing the last remnants of humanity approaches a planet where previously a cargo of monkeys and an intelligence-boosting virus were sent, in the hope of reestablishing the human race with the help of their grateful monkey friends. Unfortunately all the monkeys perished and the virus has, instead, targeted the local spiderlike aliens. Split narrative between the generation ship, with a couple of characters kept alive via cryogenic sleep, and a time-lapse of what’s happening on the planet, with every lead spider called Portia (I realise this sounds confusing, but it’s not). Fantastic story, totally leant into the premise - spider technology, communication between humans and spiders - and very compelling. I liked it a lot. Apparently the sequel has octopuses.
Cutie and the Beast, The Druid Next Door, Bad Boy’s Bard, E.J. Russell (Fae Out of Water series). Fae/human m/m romances, as you may have guessed, based around three fae brothers; generally not good, but I was in the mood for something unchallenging. First has twink temp David working as a transcriptionist for fae psychologist to the supernatural population Alun Kendrick (former Queen’s Champion) and falling for his voice before he meets him in person. I am still not clear on how David can type up Alun’s case notes and yet be totally unaware of the fae aspect. Druid Next Door has a tree-hugger who ends up magically shackled to the former Queen’s Enforcer, who makes a bad bargain to regain his status and the use of his hand, and is probably the best of the three. Bad Boy’s Bard has fake amnesia and abducted lovers and didn’t really work for me, possibly because I have a low tolerance for fae at the best of times.
Their Finest, Lissa Evans. Originally titled Their Finest Hour and a Half and shortened after the corresponding movie, which was 1 h 57. In 1940 Catrin moves from writing advertising copy to writing for propaganda shorts, and then, due to her ability to write actual women, gets conscripted into writing dialogue for a heart-warming but not entirely true film about the Dunkirk evacuation; meanwhile ageing actor Ambrose pesters his long-suffering agent for another starring role, and Edith, a wardrobe mistress for Madam Tussaud’s, gets roped into the film as well. Edith has the best romance plotline while Catrin’s romance, with the primary screenwriter, occupies an uneasy territory between mentorship, seduction, and harrassment, which is probably why the abrupt and rather terminal denouement comes across as almost funnier than it is tragic. Early imprinting on Sayers’ Murder Must Advertise means that I am the ideal candidate for all the 1930s/1940s advertising agency backstory, and Edith (who got cut out of the movie, apparently) is also great. Lots of fabulous and sharply observed details.
A Scandal in Battersea, Mercedes Lackey. Elemental Masters, with Nan and Sarah, and more Sherlock Holmes (the Watsons feature) vs Cthulhu than the earlier fairytales. Actually quite nasty in terms of what the villain does (though he’s not impressive in himself), but there are too many amazingly special characters on the side of good for this to ever achieve any real tension. Also, Lackey’s fondness for phonetically writing out accents (especially lower class ones) is irritating.
The Bride Test, Helen Hoang
The Dry, Jane Harper
Joyland, Stephen King
The Heronsbrook Gymkhana, Catherine Harris
Moonlight Sonata, Eileen Merriman
Enquiry, Dick Francis
Brothers in Blood, David Stuart Davies
The Rum Day of the Vanishing Pony, Mary Treadgold
The Punishment She Deserves, Elizabeth George
A Duke by Default, A Princess in Theory, Alyssa Cole
Children of Time, Adrian Tchaikovsky
Cutie and the Beast, The Druid Next Door, Bad Boy Bard, EJ Russell
Their Finest, Lissa Evans
A Scandal in Battersea, Mercedes Lackey
The Bride Test, Helen Hoang. Esme Tran got pregnant young and is struggling to support her family in Ho Chi Minh City; she’s never met her father, but knows he was an American. When Cô Nga offers to pay for her visa and trip to California - in exchange for Esme convincing Cô’s son to marry her - Esme takes the offer. But Khai, the son in question (and cousin of one of the characters from The Kiss Quotient), is autistic, and believes he’s incapable of emotion, even while he’s attracted to Esme… What worked really well for me in this was Esme, who is a character I see far less in fiction than in real life; a hardworking immigrant determined to make a better life for her family even if it means leaving them behind for now. I was less convinced by the romance partly because there’s such a power differential baked in; also, Esme takes a long time to tell Khai about her daughter. But all the characters are great, and it’s a solid story.
The Dry, Jane Harper. Federal agent Aaron returns to his small-minded and drought-stricken hometown for the first time in years for the funeral of an old friend, gunned down with his family under mysterious circumstances; as he gets drawn into the investigation, long-hidden secrets and tensions emerge. The atmosphere in this book is great (and reinforces my personal preference to continue to live in large urban environments), as is the tension, but the ultimate reveal/solutions felt a little too obvious and a bit of a let-down. I will probably read the next in the series, though.
Joyland, Steven King. His second book for Hardcase Crime, with a suitably lurid (accurate but misleading) cover. In 1973 Devin Jones, a university student, takes a summer job at a small independent amusement park, where some years earlier a woman was murdered in the Horror House; the killer was never caught, and the rumour is her ghost still haunts the ride. A lot of the story is, in fact, about Devin becoming an adult; he learns how to work the fair, and discovers his own abilities; his college girlfriend dumps him, and he has to deal with this first, worst loss. But, in the background is the murder, and a fortune told to Devin when he starts at the park; when Devin meets a terminally ill boy, who can see the dead woman’s ghost, it all begins coming together. This is just such a skilled piece of writing that it’s a pleasure to read, controlled and indulgent and deeply moving all at once, dipped heavily in nostalgia but never becoming soggy (hmm. Possibly I need a cup of tea and a biscuit?). What made it for me was the moment when the other ghost visits Devin; who it is, why, and how, when many other authors would have made a different (and weaker) decision.
The Heronsbrook Gymkhana, Catherine Harris. An assortment of characters face the day of the local gymkhana, a key moment for all of them for many and various reasons. Well -handled and reasonable (and I like that we see the adults’ thoughts and feelings as well), but some of the plotlines strain credulity a little.
Moonlight Sonata, Eileen Merriman. This is on the NZ Book Awards novel longlist and fits in nicely with other literary award winners like Kirsty Gunn’s Rain, which is also about a doomed family holiday and equally irritated me. At the annual three generation family get-together Molly dreads having to see her mother, who took Molly away from her twin Joe and her father when they were children for reasons Molly still resents, but enjoys catching up with Joe and her other siblings, and seeing her teenage son interact with his cousins. There is a lot of foreshadowing and flashbacks (including some v clunky teenage don’t-drink-and-drive safety-video style plot twists) and Molly’s son Noah develops a crush on Joe’s daughter Lola, which is unfortunate as the big secret is that Noah is the result of a consensual incestuous relationship between Molly and Joe. In a suitably biblical fashion Noah and Lola then drown in a rip. I was deeply irked by the whole thing and unconvinced by anybody, and I think that I am just not the audience for being sympathetic to sibling incest even if both characters weren’t also cheating on their partners. I know people who know Merriman and am now a little worried that I will encounter her unexpectedly and end up telling not just that I’ve read all her books (which I’m sure she’d be pleased to hear) and that all her endings all suck (which, not).
Enquiry, Dick Francis. One day I shall run out of Dick Francis’ books that I haven’t read yet, and I shall be very sad. Kelly Hughes, a jockey, is called to a commission of enquiry where it becomes clear that someone has framed him for cheating, leaving him and the owner he races for banned. Kelly sets out to find the people responsible. Competent and engrossing, not one of his top ones but a solid B.
Brothers in Blood, David Stuart Davies (DI Paul Snow v1). It turns out that there are quite a lot of books by this title and it took me a while to track down which one I’d meant (I only log titles, plus occasional notes to myself). Three bored teenagers in Yorkshire come up with a game that escalates rapidly to murdering strangers; they meet up throughout the years for further rounds, leaving a trail of unexplained bodies behind, until one of the three is assaulted and calls on the others for revenge, which sets a detective with his own hidden past on to their trail. I liked the initial atmosphere but am ambivalent on detectives who are only one observer away from being criminals. There are another two out and I might skim the next one.
The Rum Day of the Vanishing Pony, Mary Treadgold. Lead character wakes up in a bad mood, argues with her family, decides against selling the horse she’d promised to a local boy, and sets off on a camping trip she had no previous intention of joining, which all entangles her with two intriguing but criminal strangers. I do not think this title works but the story is fine, although it reminded me quite a bit of Antonia Forest’s The Thuggery Affair, which it post-dates (1970 to TTA’s 1965); there’s the same healthy middle class child in the countryside establishes sympathy with alluring city criminals, with a lot of understated but quite brutal violence (at the end there’s a very clear strangling threat, only averted by something that thanks all the subsequent years of medical technology it took me a full five minutes after finishing the book to work out).
The Punishment She Deserves, Elizabeth George. An impressive title that is careful to never specify its target; is it Havers, belatedly trying to keep her head down and save her job, or Isabelle Ardery, her brittle and judgmental superior (formerly in a relationship with Lynley), whose alcoholism is finally spiralling out of control, or any of the non-series characters - the mothers trying and failing to hold on to their children, the teenage girls struggling for independence regardless of risk. The book itself is better than her last few, because Ardery and Havers are great antagonists; when Lynley does show up he feels cardboard by comparison. The investigation, of an apparent suicide in police custody of a priest accused of paedophilia, does get overwhelmed by the sheer mass of the story, but I did like this one. I am not entirely convinced by Havers tap-dancing, however, and I would like at some point to find out what happened to Taymullah and Haddiyah (who feature heavily in my favourite book of the series, Deception on his Mind
A Princess in Theory, A Duke by Default, Alyssa Cole. First two of the Reluctant Royals series. The first is my favourite for the brilliant concept; of course struggling grad student and former foster kid Ledi assumes the emails telling her she’s betrothed to an African prince are just another scam. But then the prince, Thabiso, turns up… I’m not wild that Thabiso hides his identity to get closer to Ledi and I didn’t buy the science plot, but it was fun to read. A Duke by Default has Ledi’s best friend, a hot mess socialite from New York, taking a job as a swordsmith’s apprentice in Edinburgh - the swordsmith, Tavish McKenzie, is brooding, biracial, and also, apparently, the Duke of Edinburgh, which must be a surprise to Prince Philip. While I like Portia’s growth in this and having an ADHD heroine, I was never convinced by the swordsmithing or the Duke bits. It does however have my favourite cover of the series, although they’re all good.
Children of Time, Adrian Tchaikovsky. The first book of his I’ve managed to finish! (I stalled out badly on Guns of the Dawn and have borrowed Empire in Black and Gold a couple of times without managing to read it). A generation ship containing the last remnants of humanity approaches a planet where previously a cargo of monkeys and an intelligence-boosting virus were sent, in the hope of reestablishing the human race with the help of their grateful monkey friends. Unfortunately all the monkeys perished and the virus has, instead, targeted the local spiderlike aliens. Split narrative between the generation ship, with a couple of characters kept alive via cryogenic sleep, and a time-lapse of what’s happening on the planet, with every lead spider called Portia (I realise this sounds confusing, but it’s not). Fantastic story, totally leant into the premise - spider technology, communication between humans and spiders - and very compelling. I liked it a lot. Apparently the sequel has octopuses.
Cutie and the Beast, The Druid Next Door, Bad Boy’s Bard, E.J. Russell (Fae Out of Water series). Fae/human m/m romances, as you may have guessed, based around three fae brothers; generally not good, but I was in the mood for something unchallenging. First has twink temp David working as a transcriptionist for fae psychologist to the supernatural population Alun Kendrick (former Queen’s Champion) and falling for his voice before he meets him in person. I am still not clear on how David can type up Alun’s case notes and yet be totally unaware of the fae aspect. Druid Next Door has a tree-hugger who ends up magically shackled to the former Queen’s Enforcer, who makes a bad bargain to regain his status and the use of his hand, and is probably the best of the three. Bad Boy’s Bard has fake amnesia and abducted lovers and didn’t really work for me, possibly because I have a low tolerance for fae at the best of times.
Their Finest, Lissa Evans. Originally titled Their Finest Hour and a Half and shortened after the corresponding movie, which was 1 h 57. In 1940 Catrin moves from writing advertising copy to writing for propaganda shorts, and then, due to her ability to write actual women, gets conscripted into writing dialogue for a heart-warming but not entirely true film about the Dunkirk evacuation; meanwhile ageing actor Ambrose pesters his long-suffering agent for another starring role, and Edith, a wardrobe mistress for Madam Tussaud’s, gets roped into the film as well. Edith has the best romance plotline while Catrin’s romance, with the primary screenwriter, occupies an uneasy territory between mentorship, seduction, and harrassment, which is probably why the abrupt and rather terminal denouement comes across as almost funnier than it is tragic. Early imprinting on Sayers’ Murder Must Advertise means that I am the ideal candidate for all the 1930s/1940s advertising agency backstory, and Edith (who got cut out of the movie, apparently) is also great. Lots of fabulous and sharply observed details.
A Scandal in Battersea, Mercedes Lackey. Elemental Masters, with Nan and Sarah, and more Sherlock Holmes (the Watsons feature) vs Cthulhu than the earlier fairytales. Actually quite nasty in terms of what the villain does (though he’s not impressive in himself), but there are too many amazingly special characters on the side of good for this to ever achieve any real tension. Also, Lackey’s fondness for phonetically writing out accents (especially lower class ones) is irritating.
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Date: 2020-02-21 03:52 am (UTC)I really need to track down this book. I heard about the film first and never saw that, either.
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Date: 2020-02-21 06:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-02-21 04:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-02-21 06:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-02-21 05:07 am (UTC)I haven't read the book, but I consider it a crime the film didn't end f/f. The potential was RIGHT THERE! (Ooh, I wonder if there's fic... *wanders off to see*)
no subject
Date: 2020-02-21 06:33 am (UTC)(yuletide 2020!!)
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Date: 2020-02-21 07:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-02-21 09:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-02-21 08:25 am (UTC)LOL! I think I'd have had to give up just at that before my brain broke.
I've just watched Their Finest and the scenery collapse wasn't funny in that, alas. It sounds like the book's pretty cool.