by Kate Seredy
1937
Winner of the 1938 Newbery, this slim book is a fairy-tale adaptation of Hungarian legend, from the Biblical hunter Nimrod to the historical Attila the Hun, Scourge of God, in four generations. The miraculous beast of the title inspires the Hun and Magyar tribes (led by the warriors Hunor and Magyar respectively) to head west, looking for a plentiful paradise ringed by mountains promised by Hadur, the war god whose sword Attila is destined to find.
This is a bizarre book for children, and a bizarre choice for a children’s award. It has no historical value, being only legend, though Seredy grafts Attila onto her mythological genealogy. There’s nothing wrong with that per se, but it’s frankly unworkable as a fairy tale either. There’s no reason to admire or sympathize with the bloodthirsty warriors who murder their way through Europe, and it’s such a brief tale there’s no time for the reader to feel anything for them in any case. There’s no denying that it’s beautifully written, but I just couldn’t get past the baffling subject matter, nor the abrupt and wholly unsatisfying ending.
two stars
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Rebecca
by Daphne du Maurier
1938
The narrator, an unnamed and naive young woman, marries Maxim de Winter, a gloomy widower whom she meets in Monte Carlo. Arriving at his prominent estate, Manderley, she finds herself instantly rebranded as “the second Mrs. De Winter” and is overpowered by the long shadow of Rebecca, the dead first wife, whose decoration, mores, and schedule still dominate. Rebecca’s lifelong maid, Mrs. Danvers, in particular, is cold to the new wife, constantly comparing everything she does to the way it was done by Rebecca. Eventually, the narrator learns of the terrible secret – murder – that haunts Maxim, and is the reason why Rebecca’s shadow can’t be erased from Manderley.
While it’s indisputably a classic of suspense, I was rather ambivalent about this novel. On the positive side, du Maurier paces the novel wonderfully, setting up a truly creepy atmosphere and then letting the suspense pile up unbearably before the secret is out, whereupon the nail-biting begins anew as the resolution is uncertain. On the negative side… Well, first, personally, my interest in this book was probably dimmed by my familiarity with the great Hitchcock film version, which changes very little. Second, I found the writing to be overly prolix, especially in the lavish purple prose of the opening chapters. Third, I found the narrator to be rather unsympathetic, as she had very little backbone; it isn’t that her timidity strained credulity, as her behavior in such a situation seems rather probable for a certain kind of wallflower, but it doesn’t make her more sympathetic. Finally and most damningly, I found Maxim to be a totally unsympathetic cad, not coming to his wife’s defense when she was clearly being bullied by the servants, and he clearly knew her for what she was, an unworldly and non-wealthy girl who was unused to servants. Then there’s the fact that we, the reader, have only this man’s word for what happened to Rebecca and even if it were true he seems to have admitted to killing a woman he believed to be pregnant at the time – yet he is clearly meant to be a viable love interest for the put-upon narrator.
three stars
1938
The narrator, an unnamed and naive young woman, marries Maxim de Winter, a gloomy widower whom she meets in Monte Carlo. Arriving at his prominent estate, Manderley, she finds herself instantly rebranded as “the second Mrs. De Winter” and is overpowered by the long shadow of Rebecca, the dead first wife, whose decoration, mores, and schedule still dominate. Rebecca’s lifelong maid, Mrs. Danvers, in particular, is cold to the new wife, constantly comparing everything she does to the way it was done by Rebecca. Eventually, the narrator learns of the terrible secret – murder – that haunts Maxim, and is the reason why Rebecca’s shadow can’t be erased from Manderley.
While it’s indisputably a classic of suspense, I was rather ambivalent about this novel. On the positive side, du Maurier paces the novel wonderfully, setting up a truly creepy atmosphere and then letting the suspense pile up unbearably before the secret is out, whereupon the nail-biting begins anew as the resolution is uncertain. On the negative side… Well, first, personally, my interest in this book was probably dimmed by my familiarity with the great Hitchcock film version, which changes very little. Second, I found the writing to be overly prolix, especially in the lavish purple prose of the opening chapters. Third, I found the narrator to be rather unsympathetic, as she had very little backbone; it isn’t that her timidity strained credulity, as her behavior in such a situation seems rather probable for a certain kind of wallflower, but it doesn’t make her more sympathetic. Finally and most damningly, I found Maxim to be a totally unsympathetic cad, not coming to his wife’s defense when she was clearly being bullied by the servants, and he clearly knew her for what she was, an unworldly and non-wealthy girl who was unused to servants. Then there’s the fact that we, the reader, have only this man’s word for what happened to Rebecca and even if it were true he seems to have admitted to killing a woman he believed to be pregnant at the time – yet he is clearly meant to be a viable love interest for the put-upon narrator.
three stars
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Red Dragon
by Thomas Harris
When a deranged killer nicknamed the “Tooth Fairy” (because of his penchant for biting) savages two families, retired FBI profiler Will Graham is lured back into the hunt. Having been seriously injured in his last case – in which he captured the infamous Dr. Hannibal Lecter – Graham is reluctant, but it drawn ineluctably to putting himself in the killer’s head, despite his unraveling love life. Harris switches the reader occasionally into the experience of the killer, Francis Dolarhyde, who prefers the name “The Red Dragon” after the series of paintings by Blake – and we learn of the terrible childhood that shaped him even as a blind co-worker, innocent of his brutal side, unknowingly brings the humanity out in him by her romantic interest.
This is a brilliantly executed novel – graphic, gruesome, gripping in its terrible suspense and the palpable evil that builds up in its pages. But Harris, once a crime scene reporter, has also done thorough research in everything having to do with his subjects: pathology, graphology, psychology – all of which make the drama more real and immediate. The characters are fully realized; Graham is a flawed hero with a darkly troubled past, Dolarhyde is a tragic monster that, but for a few preventable accidents, could have been human. Fast-paced, taut, and all too real, this is a terrific thriller.
five stars
When a deranged killer nicknamed the “Tooth Fairy” (because of his penchant for biting) savages two families, retired FBI profiler Will Graham is lured back into the hunt. Having been seriously injured in his last case – in which he captured the infamous Dr. Hannibal Lecter – Graham is reluctant, but it drawn ineluctably to putting himself in the killer’s head, despite his unraveling love life. Harris switches the reader occasionally into the experience of the killer, Francis Dolarhyde, who prefers the name “The Red Dragon” after the series of paintings by Blake – and we learn of the terrible childhood that shaped him even as a blind co-worker, innocent of his brutal side, unknowingly brings the humanity out in him by her romantic interest.
This is a brilliantly executed novel – graphic, gruesome, gripping in its terrible suspense and the palpable evil that builds up in its pages. But Harris, once a crime scene reporter, has also done thorough research in everything having to do with his subjects: pathology, graphology, psychology – all of which make the drama more real and immediate. The characters are fully realized; Graham is a flawed hero with a darkly troubled past, Dolarhyde is a tragic monster that, but for a few preventable accidents, could have been human. Fast-paced, taut, and all too real, this is a terrific thriller.
five stars
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Love In a Cold Climate
by Nancy Mitford
The sequel to The Pursuit of Love, this book has Fanny (married to a husband who may as well not exist, for the purposes of the book) watching in amazement as Polly, the great beauty of the season and daughter of the socially-conscious and fabulously wealthy Lady Montdore, refuses all suitors until finally claiming a husband amid such scandal she is disinherited. Enter Cedric, a fabulously outré homosexual, who now stands to inherit all, and who becomes fast friends with Lady Montdore, introducing her to all manner of self-improvement and Continental ideas about fashion.
As amusing as the first book was, this sequel is easily its superior; the officious, deluded, condescending Lady Montdore and the larger than life, colorful Cedric are both brilliant characters: unforgettable, unpredictable, hilarious, and strangely alluring despite their flaws. The humor here is also less subdued, less sly than in the previous book: Lady Montdore sniffs that hardly anyone had heard of India until her cipher of a husband served as secretary there; Uncle Matthew comes upon Cedric in a shop and is so overcome with rage at his coat with contrasting colored piping that he begins shaking him, like a dog with a rat. Mitford somehow makes all her characters, no matter how outlandish, also sympathetic, this is true even of the nasty Boy Dougdale, who is some sort of sexual predator and pedophile and ends up in a miserable, loveless marriage. Everyone dismisses Boy’s groping of the underage Radlett sisters with a shudder and a shrug, as merely a breach in manners rather than a loathsome crime. Well, it was a different age.
five stars
The sequel to The Pursuit of Love, this book has Fanny (married to a husband who may as well not exist, for the purposes of the book) watching in amazement as Polly, the great beauty of the season and daughter of the socially-conscious and fabulously wealthy Lady Montdore, refuses all suitors until finally claiming a husband amid such scandal she is disinherited. Enter Cedric, a fabulously outré homosexual, who now stands to inherit all, and who becomes fast friends with Lady Montdore, introducing her to all manner of self-improvement and Continental ideas about fashion.
As amusing as the first book was, this sequel is easily its superior; the officious, deluded, condescending Lady Montdore and the larger than life, colorful Cedric are both brilliant characters: unforgettable, unpredictable, hilarious, and strangely alluring despite their flaws. The humor here is also less subdued, less sly than in the previous book: Lady Montdore sniffs that hardly anyone had heard of India until her cipher of a husband served as secretary there; Uncle Matthew comes upon Cedric in a shop and is so overcome with rage at his coat with contrasting colored piping that he begins shaking him, like a dog with a rat. Mitford somehow makes all her characters, no matter how outlandish, also sympathetic, this is true even of the nasty Boy Dougdale, who is some sort of sexual predator and pedophile and ends up in a miserable, loveless marriage. Everyone dismisses Boy’s groping of the underage Radlett sisters with a shudder and a shrug, as merely a breach in manners rather than a loathsome crime. Well, it was a different age.
five stars
Sunday, September 12, 2010
The Pursuit Of Love
by Nancy Mitford
A roman a clef, this book begins by describing the odd upbringing of the author's prominent family, here called the Radletts. Six daughters grow up under the eccentric reign of their father (called "Uncle Matthew" by the narrator, cousin Fanny, who has come to live with them), who rages against foreigners and suitors, forms hatreds or admirations for others on a whim, and refuses to send his children to school. In the style of the time, the daughters go to balls and are presented as "out," whereupon they marry. One daughter, Linda, marries the son of a prominent banking family, but fails to find love with him or her next husband, a Communist activist.
Mitford details the ensuing scandals and the worries with subtle wit, balancing an almost-mocking, self-deprecating tone with the emotional tragedy of Linda’s tale. The book is a deft satire of the upper classes, and has quite a few very funny scenes, such as when Fanny comes to visit Linda’s ugly baby, which the mother feel nothing for ("Pour soul," she says when it cries, "I think it must have caught sight of itself in a glass").
four stars
[followed by Love In a Cold Climate]
A roman a clef, this book begins by describing the odd upbringing of the author's prominent family, here called the Radletts. Six daughters grow up under the eccentric reign of their father (called "Uncle Matthew" by the narrator, cousin Fanny, who has come to live with them), who rages against foreigners and suitors, forms hatreds or admirations for others on a whim, and refuses to send his children to school. In the style of the time, the daughters go to balls and are presented as "out," whereupon they marry. One daughter, Linda, marries the son of a prominent banking family, but fails to find love with him or her next husband, a Communist activist.
Mitford details the ensuing scandals and the worries with subtle wit, balancing an almost-mocking, self-deprecating tone with the emotional tragedy of Linda’s tale. The book is a deft satire of the upper classes, and has quite a few very funny scenes, such as when Fanny comes to visit Linda’s ugly baby, which the mother feel nothing for ("Pour soul," she says when it cries, "I think it must have caught sight of itself in a glass").
four stars
[followed by Love In a Cold Climate]
Monday, September 6, 2010
The Song Of the Lark
by Willa Cather
Thea Kronborg, daughter of a minister in a small Colorado town, is
discovered by the music teacher, a drunken German fellow, to have a rare
gift. Sponsored by Archie, the town doctor and family friend, and Ray, a
railroad man who intends to marry her but is killed, she travels to
Chicago, then New Mexico, meeting more and more cosmopolitan people,
until, at last, she is a star of the opera stage, and like a star
radiant and very distant.
I found this book, at 420+ pages, quite
a chore to get through. The character of Thea was utterly
unsympathetic; her self-absorption even as a nobody is insufferable, and
after she's a star, her melodramatic requirements are equally odious.
The prose is tedious, as Cather fawns on her character, making her
charismatic in the eyes of everyone except the reader. Actually, Thea is
surrounded by sympathetic characters who lead interesting lives and are
open, hearty, and engaging, but they all orbit around her, and Cather
gives no reason for the reader to like her. Altogether a boring book,
full of light and song but signifying nothing.
two stars
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Special Asignments
by Boris Akunin
The fifth Inspector Fandorin mystery, this one is two chronologically
sequential novellas. In the first, a mysterious con artist nicknamed the
Jack of Spades is embarrassing the higher ups in Moscow, particularly
Prince Dologorukoi, who dispatches Fandorin to set an elaborate con of
his own to catch the swindler. This book also introduces a new assistant
for the inspector, the desperately eager to please Anisii Tulipov, a
sort of comic relief figure. With improbable disguises galore, full of
the twists and turns in fortune that are the hallmarks of this series,
this is a rather light-hearted episode in Fandorin's life.
The
next section, "The Decorator," takes a decidedly more grim turn, as Jack
the Ripper comes to Moscow, leaving brutal death in his wake. Not only
streetwalkers, but, as the police close in on him, police agents,
including poor Tulipov and his harmless family, are murdered in the
nastiest way possible. Akunin takes up narration from the Ripper's point
of view at times – he thinks of himself as the Decorator, for he makes
the beautiful ugly by revealing their God-given organs to the world –
and it is chilling how disturbed, how implacable in his own twisted
logic, Akunin makes him. The cat and mouse game of trying to catch the
killer is again full of the ups and downs, the nearly-there moments, and
the Pyrrhic victories that make this series so suspenseful and
exciting. It’s admirable, in fact, how Akunin is able to make his hero
preternaturally lucky, devilishly handsome, physically implacable, and
mentally superhuman, and yet match him with rogues and villains who
stymie him at nearly every turn. This series continues to be a joy to
read.
five stars
Friday, June 18, 2010
Scoop
by Evelyn Waugh
1937
Due to a case of mistaken identity, a mild-mannered columnist on country life, William Boot, is sent as a war correspondent to Ishmaelia, an independent African nation where dissent is brewing between long-time ruling family the Jacksons and anarcho-communist upstarts prompted by German and Russian interests. Boot, though utterly stymied by the lackadaisical and corrupt Ishmaleian government (as well as his fellow journalists), and through no merit of his own, scoops everyone and returns to an unwelcome hero’s welcome.
The first time I read this was seventeen years ago. I think I may have appreciated it a bit more this time around – it recalls Wodehouse in its muddled plot and tortuous misadventures of its characters, as well as the brilliant characterization through dialogue. But Waugh is much more scathing: of the fatuous, ant-brained upper classes, of the bumptious but ultimately useless journalistic set, of the oafish and self-centered country dwellers. More than a satire of what was then modern journalism, it’s a witty, often hilarious look at the caprices of human nature.
[read twice: 9/1/93, 6/18/10]
four stars
1937
Due to a case of mistaken identity, a mild-mannered columnist on country life, William Boot, is sent as a war correspondent to Ishmaelia, an independent African nation where dissent is brewing between long-time ruling family the Jacksons and anarcho-communist upstarts prompted by German and Russian interests. Boot, though utterly stymied by the lackadaisical and corrupt Ishmaleian government (as well as his fellow journalists), and through no merit of his own, scoops everyone and returns to an unwelcome hero’s welcome.
The first time I read this was seventeen years ago. I think I may have appreciated it a bit more this time around – it recalls Wodehouse in its muddled plot and tortuous misadventures of its characters, as well as the brilliant characterization through dialogue. But Waugh is much more scathing: of the fatuous, ant-brained upper classes, of the bumptious but ultimately useless journalistic set, of the oafish and self-centered country dwellers. More than a satire of what was then modern journalism, it’s a witty, often hilarious look at the caprices of human nature.
[read twice: 9/1/93, 6/18/10]
four stars
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
The Death Of Achilles
Translated by Andrew Bromfield
The fourth Erast Fandorin mystery. The collegiate assessor, recently returned to Russia from Japan now with a fanatically loyal servant in tow, is immediately drawn into an investigation of the death of a military hero, General Sobolev, the “Achilles” of the title. Every new piece of information brings further mystery, however – the general’s retinue is hushing up the incident. It seems to be because he was in flagrante delicto with a lady when he died. But she had a bottle of poison! But she didn’t give it to him. A German spy seems to be involved, and then there’s the matter of a million rubles in a briefcase… Just as everything gets insanely tortuous, Akunin strains the tension to the breaking point as he abruptly shifts scenes in part two, and we are introduced to a killer for hire, and see the events all over again through his eyes. It’s utterly brilliant, totally captivating, pure literary magic.
five stars
Sunday, April 18, 2010
The Turkish Gambit
by Boris Akunin
Translated by Andrew Bromfield
In 1877, war wages between Russia and
the Ottoman Empire. Diplomat and police agent Fandorin is recruited to
find the identity of and capture the mysterious Anwar, a Turkish spy who
is intervening with the course of war in the middle of the operations. A
young, headstrong and beautiful woman, Varya, whose fiancé is arrested
for espionage himself, is pressed upon him as an unwilling assistant.
She is pressed on all sides by gallant generals, war heroes, a dashing
French reporter, and obsequious lieutenants.
Fandorin himself is
mostly absent – he leaves for England and solves the case off-page,
returning to arrest the culprit and explain his deductions. The main
character this time around is Varya, who falls for Erast despite her
modern sensibilities, and serves as a stand-in for the reader, a
newcomer and mostly confused about all the goings-on. Despite Fandorin's
demotion to co-headliner, this remains an excellent entry to the
series. Full of exciting, larger than life characters and suspense on a
grand scale, it’s a fun swashbuckling spy story a la Flashman.
four stars
Monday, April 12, 2010
Murder On the Leviathan
by Boris Akunin
translated by Andrew Bromfield
After a British antiquarian and his entire household are murdered in cold blood and a golden statue stolen, French police commissioner Gauche deduces that the murderer must be on the steamship Leviathan, leaving for Calcutta on its maiden voyage. An odd cast of characters fall into his net of suspicion – among them an Italian doctor, a mad British aristocrat, a Japanese man claiming to be a military man, a pregnant woman, a professor and expert on antiquities, and diplomat Erast Fandorin. Soon, though, the latter has joined forced with the Frenchman, and as secrets are uncovered and the truth becomes clearer, more bodies start hitting the deck. This is a totally delightful homage to the Agathie Christie style of whodunit. Extremely witty, erudite, full of twists and red herrings, beautifully paced. A real page-turner.
five stars
Saturday, March 27, 2010
The Winter Queen
by Boris Akunin
translated by Andrew Bromfield
In Moscow, 1876, a rash of student
suicides prompts young collegiate registrar Erast Fandorin to
investigate, more or less on his own initiative. He quickly finds that
they are linked to a mysterious femme fatale, who in turn leads him to
an even more mysterious conspiratorial organization (nihilists?
Revolutionaries?) known as Azazel. Through persistence and a good bit of
luck, he manages to find, to his horror, just how far-reaching this
organization is.
I loved reading this book. A sort of turn of the
century James Bond as written by a Russian John Grisham, it’s decidedly
light in tone, with moments of great humor. Yes, it’s all rather easy
to predict, but Akunin makes it all unfold with a deft touch. The end is
a jarringly grim bit, but only ensured that I wanted to know what
Fandorin would do next.
four stars
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Full Dark House
by Christopher Fowler
Arthur Bryant and John May, two young police detectives, meet during the Blitz of London when May joins the Peculiar Crimes Unit. Bryant’s unusual methods (contacting mediums, thinking largely in symbolism) and his unsettling social skills rankle May, but soon their personalities and strategies mesh. They investigate a string of gruesome, perhaps symbolic, murders at the Palace Theatre, during a scandalous production of Offenbach’s “Orpheus In the Underworld.” Meanwhile, in present-day London, an explosion at the unit takes the now elderly Bryant’s life, and May traces his old partner’s footsteps, trying to find out who killed him, and how in connects to their first case.
It’s a beguiling setup, very richly atmospheric, especially the 1940 scenes, which are clearly researched to the tiniest detail (brands of cigarettes, how women wore their hair, and so on). While I took the “big twist” at the end pretty much for granted throughout the book (what, the main character isn’t really dead?), other twists and turns were highly enjoyable. All the little hints and witty touches come together: Fowler plays fair with the reader, but this is much more a moody thriller than a whodunit, though it succeeds at both.
four stars
Arthur Bryant and John May, two young police detectives, meet during the Blitz of London when May joins the Peculiar Crimes Unit. Bryant’s unusual methods (contacting mediums, thinking largely in symbolism) and his unsettling social skills rankle May, but soon their personalities and strategies mesh. They investigate a string of gruesome, perhaps symbolic, murders at the Palace Theatre, during a scandalous production of Offenbach’s “Orpheus In the Underworld.” Meanwhile, in present-day London, an explosion at the unit takes the now elderly Bryant’s life, and May traces his old partner’s footsteps, trying to find out who killed him, and how in connects to their first case.
It’s a beguiling setup, very richly atmospheric, especially the 1940 scenes, which are clearly researched to the tiniest detail (brands of cigarettes, how women wore their hair, and so on). While I took the “big twist” at the end pretty much for granted throughout the book (what, the main character isn’t really dead?), other twists and turns were highly enjoyable. All the little hints and witty touches come together: Fowler plays fair with the reader, but this is much more a moody thriller than a whodunit, though it succeeds at both.
four stars
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