Zweiunddreißig
Book Title: "Gentlemen & Players"
Author: Joanne Harris
Page Count: 508
First Published: 2005
Rating: superfunk - golden - sweet - blah - superblah - blergh - goatfood
If there's one thing I've learned in the past fifteen years, it's this; that murder is really no big deal.
Meh. One of those thrillery stories with a twist and a twist, oh and a twist. Public school setting, boys in uniforms and cricket and all that, chess metaphors, quirky characters, as teachers are wont to be, some murder. But kind of annoying. It was very obvious whenever Harris was throwing the reader a morsel of information that led up to the twist ending (one of them anyway). (Though I did have it the wrong way round, I guessed what was up about halfway through). Throwing dogs bones, and all that. The writing was terribly stilted, and I think that was on purpose to reflect the narrator, but it still felt grating and unnatural. Still, it kept me distracted from being on the bus in a traffic jam, so there's always that. I will not in a million years pick up another book by Harris, though, because this is the only one that sounded vaguely interesting. Also her breadth of subject matter is astonishing and disturbing. She must love her research, which makes me like her, but not necessarily her books.
Author: Joanne Harris
Page Count: 508
First Published: 2005
Rating: superfunk - golden - sweet - blah - superblah - blergh - goatfood
If there's one thing I've learned in the past fifteen years, it's this; that murder is really no big deal.
Meh. One of those thrillery stories with a twist and a twist, oh and a twist. Public school setting, boys in uniforms and cricket and all that, chess metaphors, quirky characters, as teachers are wont to be, some murder. But kind of annoying. It was very obvious whenever Harris was throwing the reader a morsel of information that led up to the twist ending (one of them anyway). (Though I did have it the wrong way round, I guessed what was up about halfway through). Throwing dogs bones, and all that. The writing was terribly stilted, and I think that was on purpose to reflect the narrator, but it still felt grating and unnatural. Still, it kept me distracted from being on the bus in a traffic jam, so there's always that. I will not in a million years pick up another book by Harris, though, because this is the only one that sounded vaguely interesting. Also her breadth of subject matter is astonishing and disturbing. She must love her research, which makes me like her, but not necessarily her books.