Remember when we used to sing the old songs
I’m trying to do more of my own writing this month (surrounded by all these November novel types) and have, so far, achieved at least two paragraphs. My ratio of book written to book read obviously needs work. I have another two books I’ve finished but haven’t written about yet, as well, but they’re both really good and it takes me much longer to work out what to say about things I really enjoy, but haven’t read enough times to fully internalise.
I loved Case Histories, and this is a sort-of-sequel; Jackson Brodie, again, this time in Edinburgh for the Festival. There’s a lot of good stuff here, and I love the way all the plots interlock with each other, so tightly fitted that you can hear the faint clicks as events reveal other events, and so forth, without ever feeling forced. But I lost it towards the ending; there wasn’t enough room for surprises, or unexpected felicities, and it finishes with a twist that really isn’t all that exciting. I think it’s very difficult to bring off twist endings, anyway, and they always seem kind of hollow. I can think of a lot of good twists that occur earlier in books (Matt Ruff’s Set This House in Order springs to mind), and some very nice moments of peripateia in various books and short stories, but thinking about good, fair twist endings that worked for me is making me go back to Agatha Christie’s The Murder of Roger Ackroyd.
I thought this might be a re-read, because I knew I’d read some of her “Death in…” series, but not this one. Maybe Kashmir? Anyway. Berlin, post-WWII, with an assortment of British diplomats, military and hangers-on (mostly wives), and one of those detective stories where your ability to work out who did it is aided by the rapidly diminishing cast.
I loved The Far Pavilions, and I haven’t read anything else by MM Kaye that’s worked as well for me (The Ordinary Princess is pretty good). This is pretty average - there are some nice moments (Miranda alone in various houses - or is she?), Berlin is interesting, people actually keep track of multiple explanations for crimes/suspects rather than just fixing on one to the exclusion of all others - but there are also things that don’t work so well. The British characters are the sort who use “foreigner” to describe Germans while they themselves are living in Germany; none of the nonBritish characters ever feel real. The romance between Miranda and Simon Lang (inspector/diplomatic type) is one of those masterful man watches and instructs helpless female and, at the end, finally grants her the privilege of being worthy of him, which I’m never all that fond of.
I loved Case Histories, and this is a sort-of-sequel; Jackson Brodie, again, this time in Edinburgh for the Festival. There’s a lot of good stuff here, and I love the way all the plots interlock with each other, so tightly fitted that you can hear the faint clicks as events reveal other events, and so forth, without ever feeling forced. But I lost it towards the ending; there wasn’t enough room for surprises, or unexpected felicities, and it finishes with a twist that really isn’t all that exciting. I think it’s very difficult to bring off twist endings, anyway, and they always seem kind of hollow. I can think of a lot of good twists that occur earlier in books (Matt Ruff’s Set This House in Order springs to mind), and some very nice moments of peripateia in various books and short stories, but thinking about good, fair twist endings that worked for me is making me go back to Agatha Christie’s The Murder of Roger Ackroyd.
I thought this might be a re-read, because I knew I’d read some of her “Death in…” series, but not this one. Maybe Kashmir? Anyway. Berlin, post-WWII, with an assortment of British diplomats, military and hangers-on (mostly wives), and one of those detective stories where your ability to work out who did it is aided by the rapidly diminishing cast.
I loved The Far Pavilions, and I haven’t read anything else by MM Kaye that’s worked as well for me (The Ordinary Princess is pretty good). This is pretty average - there are some nice moments (Miranda alone in various houses - or is she?), Berlin is interesting, people actually keep track of multiple explanations for crimes/suspects rather than just fixing on one to the exclusion of all others - but there are also things that don’t work so well. The British characters are the sort who use “foreigner” to describe Germans while they themselves are living in Germany; none of the nonBritish characters ever feel real. The romance between Miranda and Simon Lang (inspector/diplomatic type) is one of those masterful man watches and instructs helpless female and, at the end, finally grants her the privilege of being worthy of him, which I’m never all that fond of.