Category Archives: Mystery

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, Vol 3: A Most Impressive Business

               I downloaded the audio book of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes from the very tech-friendly Hamilton Public Library and delighted in listening to some British accented fellow read me bite sized mysteries. I took the voice and the book first to the grocery store (but not *in* the grocery store; I detest listening to anything whilst shopping – far too distracting), then to cook a cake, and then about the library browsing books. I ended up relistening to the browsing books story, as it turns out I am not capable of attending to two things at once (somehow walking doesn’t count as a ‘thing’ – I seem capable of walking and listening. thankfully.). 

I enjoyed both the pace of the stories – neither too winding, nor too abrupt – the tantalizing clues that you just *know* are clues, but cannot work out, and the focalization of Watson. I was telling M. yesterday that I like Watson’s point of view because it somehow subjects Holmes to the same kind of scrutiny Holmes brings to mysteries, clues, witnesses and suspects. I dig the relationship between Watson and Holmes both because its represented as simultaneously intimate and utterly professional: a careful balance to strike and one which I admire in a narrative ostensibly about other matters.

Oh, and clearly from the tenor of this post (or perhaps only clearly to me) I enjoy the diction of the stories. I’d support the return of the countenance and the aspect and the most serious and grave business. Perhaps not the damsel in total distress. The representation of women is my chief complaint with the stories. Hapless and helpless women abound. All too often they are also waif like. I don’t go in for the waifs. I suppose this criticism could extend to include the non-British (villains appear from South America and India) and the physically impaired (“cripples” and “hysterics” populate two of the three stories), but I was most bothered by the women, perhaps because they were always the victims. Not that I expect one of them to spring up and solve the mystery – I fully accept that Holmes and Watson are a (homo-social) male partnership, but I could do with a story where a big brutish man falls victim to a hysterical bout or comes to the two cold with fear.

That said, I’ll be downloading another set of of Holmes/Watson for my walks about. Check of the HPL for your own out-and-about-town Adventures.

Leave a comment

Filed under 100 Books of 2011, British literature, Fiction, Mystery

The Mistress of Alderley: Least Suspected

         I recently made a trip to the local library intent on picking out books I would enjoy while on my vacation. I began with The Tiger Claw (disappointing), and immediately worried that I no longer knew how to pick a good book. The Mistress of Alderley, a straight-up whodunit, reassured me, as it was not only an impossibly addictive read, but despite my earnest intention to pay attention to “those I least suspected” (in order to solve the mystery and prove myself smarter than the author), I did not figure out who committed the crime, and it was the person I least suspected (even though the motive made perfect sense).

I can’t say I read mysteries of this sort very often (in fact, I can’t remember the last time I did read one), but I did enjoy this one. It was perfect bathtub reading (though I did get a little more pruned than usual) and would be ideal for the beach, the train, a plane or a Sunday afternoon couch. Well written, extremely well plotted, and yes, terribly engaging.

Enjoy.

Leave a comment

Filed under Fiction, Mystery

Her Fearful Symmetry: Premature Climax

I really loved A Time Traveller’s Wife. I really want to love Her Fearful Symmetry. And for most of the first half I was completely on board. I enjoy a good mystery, I appreciate a London setting and a fancy flat with loads of expendable income. As always, I appreciate good characterization – and the twins, Robert, and particularly Martin, are likable. Likable but not quite fully realized. The characteristics of each – Valentina as “mouse,” Julia as “bossy,” Martin as “OCD-ey” evolve, but without any justification for why such changes take place except that it is expedient for the plot.

In fact, all of the novel works towards advancing the plot and reaching the climax, at the expense of character development, consistency and motivation. While I appreciate that Neiffenegger takes bold and creative ideas and puts them to work in ways that allow the reader to suspend belief, unlike TTW, here the suspension of belief is only temporary, and the “magical” elements quickly become tedious and without logic, which is all the more disappointing given the success of TTW in sustaining believable unbelievability. Which is to say, the plot is engaging for the first 2/3rds of the text, and then becomes something to be completed if only to find out how the wildly loose ends might come together.

So a novel to be enjoyed for the fast-paced plot and the intensely readable early sections; a novel to be avoided if one values character development or consistency.

Leave a comment

Filed under Book I'll Forget I Read, Fiction, Mystery

Gorgeous Lies: Neither gorgeous, nor mysterious

Martha McPhee’s Gorgeous Lies served as my “bus book” for the last month. It is terrible. Really, really, bad awful. I would have stopped reading it, but it fit so well in my backpack and I only had to stomach a few pages at a time.

The novel follow the “wacky” Fury family – a new age blended family – as the patriarch Anton dies of pancreatic cancer. There’s the suggestion that there is some big secret lingering at the heart of his life that will either be revealed on his death-bed or in the book he’d been working on before his death. Turns out it’s no secret at all, the narrator lets us know early on that he’s been having sex with his stepdaughter(s).

The plot is terrible, but more frustrating and impossibly distracting is the writing. Awkward transitions, incredibly banal metaphors, clumsy dialogue, weak attempts at poetic description.

Turns out the book is a sequel – something the back cover does a good job of avoiding – which might explain some of the plot failings, but certainly does not account for the formulaic writing. Future bus books will be chosen based on more than size.

Leave a comment

Filed under Book I'll Forget I Read, Fiction, Mystery, Worst Books