A Loose Affiliation of Murder Monday
Apr. 18th, 2016 03:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
evelyn_bArchived from Livejournal
What I've Finished Reading
Brat Farrar was terrific, maybe the best Tey of all? Of course our old friend the Blue-Eyed Nymphomaniac makes an appearance, and Tey manages to shoehorn in a dig at Scottish Independence for no reason whatsoever (except the only necessary and sufficient reason, which is that it's a Tey book and no one has made a dig at Scottish Independence yet).
Singing in the Shrouds was enjoyable for its conversations, for a good cast of characters, and for Alleyn's correspondence with Troy. The reveal was a disappointment. I guess it still counts as having fooled me if the solution was so obvious I would never have guessed it out of respect for the author. Good job subverting those expectations, Marsh!
I gave up on Champagne for One a while ago, even though I liked the setup, because I couldn't bring myself to pay attention to Archie anymore. I have no idea why my eyes glaze over every time Archie Goodwin tries to tell me about anything other than the weirdness of working for Nero Wolfe, but figuring it out will have to wait.
I should have given up on Night Watch, the Sherlock Holmes-Father Brown crossover, but instead I read the whole thing. I liked the idea of a Sherlock Holmes-Father Brown crossover too much, I think, and kept hoping it would get better. It's not the worst Long-Lost Holmes Adventure you could read (I appreciated that Stephen Kendrick doesn't try to play the "Watson could never truly understand Holmes!" card) but the prose and the characters were too indistinct to carry it off. My hopes for Father Brown character development were dashed; here he doesn't even get to be an effective epigram delivery system.
What I'm Reading Now
I picked up Georgette Heyer's Behold, Here's Poison on impulse at a book sale, and it is just the thing. The corpse turns up promptly on page 7, well before we've had the chance to form attachments to anyone living or dead, along with more arch artificiality than you can shake a cigarette holder at. You bright young things and your brittle wordplay! You bitter old dears and your burning resentments! It's like it was written by the most perfectly calibrated machine.
I was sort of vaguely planning to take a break from Ngaio Marsh, but then I realized I have only three books to go before KILLER DOLPHIN! so I have to keep on. False Scent is a Theater Crowd mystery and consequently off to a good start.
What I've Finished Reading
Brat Farrar was terrific, maybe the best Tey of all? Of course our old friend the Blue-Eyed Nymphomaniac makes an appearance, and Tey manages to shoehorn in a dig at Scottish Independence for no reason whatsoever (except the only necessary and sufficient reason, which is that it's a Tey book and no one has made a dig at Scottish Independence yet).
Singing in the Shrouds was enjoyable for its conversations, for a good cast of characters, and for Alleyn's correspondence with Troy. The reveal was a disappointment. I guess it still counts as having fooled me if the solution was so obvious I would never have guessed it out of respect for the author. Good job subverting those expectations, Marsh!
I gave up on Champagne for One a while ago, even though I liked the setup, because I couldn't bring myself to pay attention to Archie anymore. I have no idea why my eyes glaze over every time Archie Goodwin tries to tell me about anything other than the weirdness of working for Nero Wolfe, but figuring it out will have to wait.
I should have given up on Night Watch, the Sherlock Holmes-Father Brown crossover, but instead I read the whole thing. I liked the idea of a Sherlock Holmes-Father Brown crossover too much, I think, and kept hoping it would get better. It's not the worst Long-Lost Holmes Adventure you could read (I appreciated that Stephen Kendrick doesn't try to play the "Watson could never truly understand Holmes!" card) but the prose and the characters were too indistinct to carry it off. My hopes for Father Brown character development were dashed; here he doesn't even get to be an effective epigram delivery system.
What I'm Reading Now
I picked up Georgette Heyer's Behold, Here's Poison on impulse at a book sale, and it is just the thing. The corpse turns up promptly on page 7, well before we've had the chance to form attachments to anyone living or dead, along with more arch artificiality than you can shake a cigarette holder at. You bright young things and your brittle wordplay! You bitter old dears and your burning resentments! It's like it was written by the most perfectly calibrated machine.
I was sort of vaguely planning to take a break from Ngaio Marsh, but then I realized I have only three books to go before KILLER DOLPHIN! so I have to keep on. False Scent is a Theater Crowd mystery and consequently off to a good start.
