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Crossposted from Livejournal
What I've Finished Reading
The Headless Lady was kind of a wash, for me. I'm not sure what went wrong: I enjoyed the gabby argot infodumps and there was nothing to prevent me from enjoying the setting. The plot was full of twists, most of which I didn't see coming. I just didn't care. Whenever I have a feeling like this about a book, I start to suspect that it's my fault for not paying enough attention, so I'm putting Clayton Rawson on my "give another chance" list, though I'm not in any hurry.
I didn't end up liking Erle Stanley Gardner's The Case of the Careless Kitten at all, either. I wanted to like it because it was so completely transparent: all the characters just sit around lobbing exposition at each other, when they aren't spinning internal monologues setting out their motives for murder. But it turned out to be a slog. There's a lot of racism toward a Korean character (the story is written and set in the US during World War II, so there is a great deal of arguing about whether he is really a Japanese spy in disguise) intended as an aspect of the villain's villainy, but the depiction of the character is so cluttered with racial stereotypes in general that you hardly notice this valuable anti-racist message. I can take a lot in stride (too much) for the sake of an otherwise entertaining book, but The Case of the Careless Kitten was too dull to bother with. I regretted reading it all the way through, not because it got particularly worse at the end, just because it was a waste of my time.
By contrast, The Big Four, which is not a good book by any means, left me with no regret at all. The Big Four is really ridiculous, not tiresomely ridiculous by half measures. At one point, Poirot claims to have a tiny blowpipe made in the shape of a cigarette, loaded with tiny deadly darts. This is how he convinces the latest evil international conspirator to untie him when he and Hastings are in a tight spot - by threatening her with his deadly cigarette blowpipe. I know Poirot is a made-up person about whom there is no fact of the matter, but I still don't believe that Poirot carries a tiny blowpipe around in his cigarette case. Would it even work as a blowpipe? Therefore, it must be a cleverly improvised bluff. The Big Four is another Christie adventure in which everything would be perfectly all right if certain deranged geniuses would only stop forming secret international cabals and riling up the working classes: a world I can't believe in even provisionally, the way I might believe in cigarette blowpipes or Monte Cristo's superhuman marksmanship and magical life-in-death potions, for the sake of a good time. I didn't exactly enjoy The Big Four, but there were no hard feelings, either.
What I'm Reading Now
The Scoop and Behind the Screen by Members of the Detection Club.
I bought this early Detection Club round-robin a while ago but didn't get around to reading it until now. I thought it might make a good antidote to my malaise re: Rawson and Gardner, and I was right. The Scoop follows some reporters plus Scotland Yard in pursuit of the facts in a sensational murder case. Nothing too spectacular here so far, just Christie and Sayers and Anthony Berkeley having a good time being clever with their clever friends. Lots of snarky dialogue and breezily described modern inconveniences. One of the highlights of The Scoop (brought to you by Freeman Wills Crofts): a witness survives a murder attempt in their own home, because the would-be murderer forgot to put a coin in the gas meter.
The Little Stranger had me hooked from before the beginning, since I knew it was a response to The Franchise Affair, Josephine Tey's most vicious novel. I don't want to make any guesses about where it's going, since the only other thing I know about Sarah Waters is that she's famous for her plot twists -- but I bet it's somewhere good.
What I Plan to Read Next
I've been putting off Tana French's In the Woods even though I keep hearing how good the Dublin Murder Squad is, because I've also heard that it's grim and sad and I'm not really in the mood for grim and sad. I think I'm going to listen to my heart and put it back on the shelf for now.
What I've Finished Reading
The Headless Lady was kind of a wash, for me. I'm not sure what went wrong: I enjoyed the gabby argot infodumps and there was nothing to prevent me from enjoying the setting. The plot was full of twists, most of which I didn't see coming. I just didn't care. Whenever I have a feeling like this about a book, I start to suspect that it's my fault for not paying enough attention, so I'm putting Clayton Rawson on my "give another chance" list, though I'm not in any hurry.
I didn't end up liking Erle Stanley Gardner's The Case of the Careless Kitten at all, either. I wanted to like it because it was so completely transparent: all the characters just sit around lobbing exposition at each other, when they aren't spinning internal monologues setting out their motives for murder. But it turned out to be a slog. There's a lot of racism toward a Korean character (the story is written and set in the US during World War II, so there is a great deal of arguing about whether he is really a Japanese spy in disguise) intended as an aspect of the villain's villainy, but the depiction of the character is so cluttered with racial stereotypes in general that you hardly notice this valuable anti-racist message. I can take a lot in stride (too much) for the sake of an otherwise entertaining book, but The Case of the Careless Kitten was too dull to bother with. I regretted reading it all the way through, not because it got particularly worse at the end, just because it was a waste of my time.
By contrast, The Big Four, which is not a good book by any means, left me with no regret at all. The Big Four is really ridiculous, not tiresomely ridiculous by half measures. At one point, Poirot claims to have a tiny blowpipe made in the shape of a cigarette, loaded with tiny deadly darts. This is how he convinces the latest evil international conspirator to untie him when he and Hastings are in a tight spot - by threatening her with his deadly cigarette blowpipe. I know Poirot is a made-up person about whom there is no fact of the matter, but I still don't believe that Poirot carries a tiny blowpipe around in his cigarette case. Would it even work as a blowpipe? Therefore, it must be a cleverly improvised bluff. The Big Four is another Christie adventure in which everything would be perfectly all right if certain deranged geniuses would only stop forming secret international cabals and riling up the working classes: a world I can't believe in even provisionally, the way I might believe in cigarette blowpipes or Monte Cristo's superhuman marksmanship and magical life-in-death potions, for the sake of a good time. I didn't exactly enjoy The Big Four, but there were no hard feelings, either.
What I'm Reading Now
The Scoop and Behind the Screen by Members of the Detection Club.
I bought this early Detection Club round-robin a while ago but didn't get around to reading it until now. I thought it might make a good antidote to my malaise re: Rawson and Gardner, and I was right. The Scoop follows some reporters plus Scotland Yard in pursuit of the facts in a sensational murder case. Nothing too spectacular here so far, just Christie and Sayers and Anthony Berkeley having a good time being clever with their clever friends. Lots of snarky dialogue and breezily described modern inconveniences. One of the highlights of The Scoop (brought to you by Freeman Wills Crofts): a witness survives a murder attempt in their own home, because the would-be murderer forgot to put a coin in the gas meter.
The Little Stranger had me hooked from before the beginning, since I knew it was a response to The Franchise Affair, Josephine Tey's most vicious novel. I don't want to make any guesses about where it's going, since the only other thing I know about Sarah Waters is that she's famous for her plot twists -- but I bet it's somewhere good.
What I Plan to Read Next
I've been putting off Tana French's In the Woods even though I keep hearing how good the Dublin Murder Squad is, because I've also heard that it's grim and sad and I'm not really in the mood for grim and sad. I think I'm going to listen to my heart and put it back on the shelf for now.
