strange and random happenstance

A Backward Glance: An Autobiography by Edith Wharton
Published by: Simon and Schuster
Publication Date: 1934
Format: Paperback, 424 Pages
To Buy

"Memoirs are always suspect. People tend to remember what they want to remember; images become blurred or combined; details are rearranged. BUT. This is Edith Wharton we’re talking about. Who can resist the chance to see the New York of her childhood through her eyes, even if it might be a bit tweaked about the edges? Especially when there are lines like these: The little girl and her father walked up Fifth Avenue: the old Fifth Avenue with its double line of low brown-stone houses, of a desperate uniformity of style, broken only -- and surprisingly -- by two equally unexpected features: the fenced-in plot of ground where the old Miss Kennedys' cows were pastured, and the truncated Egyptian pyramid which so strangely served as a reservoir for New York's water supply. The Fifth Avenue of that day was a placid and uneventful thoroughfare, along which genteel landaus, broughams and victorias, and more countrified vehicles of the "carryall" and "surrey" type, moved up and down at decent intervals and a decorous pace. Wharton’s very nostalgia for that vanished world, and the way she constructed it in contrast to what came later, provided a great deal of insight into the culture wars between old and new that are a major theme in the background of The English Wife. And now that we’ve had two Wharton-related books in a row, let’s just move right on past those fifteen other Wharton books on my shelves...." - Lauren Willig

The official patter:
"Edith Wharton, the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize, vividly reflects on her public and private life in this stunning memoir.

With richness and delicacy, it describes the sophisticated New York society in which Wharton spent her youth, and chronicles her travels throughout Europe and her literary success as an adult. Beautifully depicted are her friendships with many of the most celebrated artists and writers of her day, including her close friend Henry James.

In his introduction to this edition, Louis Auchincloss calls the writing in A Backward Glance “as firm and crisp and lucid as in the best of her novels.” It is a memoir that will charm and fascinate all readers of Wharton’s fiction."

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Backward Glance, America, Autobiography, Edith Wharton, Europe, Fifth Avenue, Henry James, Lauren Willig, Louis Auchincloss, New York, New York Society, Pulitzer, The English Wife, Willig Winter

Edith Wharton by Hermione Lee
Published by: Vintage
Publication Date: April 10th, 2007
Format: Paperback, 912 Pages
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"Born in 1862, Wharton is just a little bit older (but functionally of the same generation) as two of my main characters in The English Wife: Bayard Van Duyvil and his younger sister, Janie. Both grow up in Wharton’s world, the world of old brownstones gradually ceding way to new opulence, and the cultural clashes that come with that shift. Like the young Wharton, Janie Van Duyvil is too bookish for her mother’s taste. I found Lee’s evocation of Wharton’s childhood world—the locations, the customs, the assumptions—incredibly useful in understanding both Janie and Bay." - Lauren Willig

The official patter:
"From Hermione Lee, the internationally acclaimed, award-winning biographer of Virginia Woolf and Willa Cather, comes a superb reexamination of one of the most famous American women of letters. Delving into heretofore untapped sources, Lee does away with the image of the snobbish bluestocking and gives us a new Edith Wharton-tough, startlingly modern, as brilliant and complex as her fiction. Born into a wealthy family, Wharton left America as an adult and eventually chose to create a life in France. Her renowned novels and stories have become classics of American literature, but as Lee shows, Wharton's own life, filled with success and scandal, was as intriguing as those of her heroines. Bridging two centuries and two very different sensibilities, Wharton here comes to life in the skillful hands of one of the great literary biographers of our time."

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: America, Biography, Bluestocking, Brownstones, Edith Wharton, France, Hermione Lee, Lauren Willig, New York, The English Wife, Van Duyvil, Virgina Woolf, Willa Cather, Willig Winter

The Murder of the Century: The Gilded Age Crime That Scandalized a City and Sparked the Tabloid Wars by Paul Collins
Published by: Broadway Books
Publication Date: June 1st, 2011
Format: Paperback, 336 Pages
To Buy

"No one expects a headless torso. (Well, hardly anyone?) When pieces of a body started popping up around New York in the hot summer of 1897, both police and reporters swung into action, in a competition to see who could solve the crime first. Aside from being fascinating in its own right as a) a murder mystery, and b) a look at the less-traveled immigrant corners of Gilded Age Manhattan, this book provided me with a great deal of color about the workings of the tabloid press in late 19th century New York. Of course, the murder in The English Wife doesn’t involve dismembering (just saying, just in case you were wondering), and it’s set among New York’s Knickerbocker elite rather than the German immigrant community, but this book was part of what inspired me to make one of my main characters, James Burke, a reporter at The World, drawn into an uneasy alliance with the sister of the murdered man as they both search for the truth." - Lauren Willig

The official patter:
"On Long Island, a farmer finds a duck pond turned red with blood. On the Lower East Side, two boys playing at a pier discover a floating human torso wrapped tightly in oilcloth. Blueberry pickers near Harlem stumble upon neatly severed limbs in an overgrown ditch. Clues to a horrifying crime are turning up all over New York, but the police are baffled: There are no witnesses, no motives, no suspects.

The grisly finds that began on the afternoon of June 26, 1897, plunged detectives headlong into the era's most baffling murder mystery. Seized upon by battling media moguls Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst, the case became a publicity circus. Reenactments of the murder were staged in Times Square, armed reporters lurked in the streets of Hell's Kitchen in pursuit of suspects, and an unlikely trio--a hard-luck cop, a cub reporter, and an eccentric professor--all raced to solve the crime.

What emerged was a sensational love triangle and an even more sensational trial: an unprecedented capital case hinging on circumstantial evidence around a victim whom the police couldn't identify with certainty, and who the defense claimed wasn't even dead. The Murder of the Century is a rollicking tale--a rich evocation of America during the Gilded Age and a colorful re-creation of the tabloid wars that have dominated media to this day."

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: America, Gilded Age, Hearst, Hell's Kitchen, Knickerbocker, Lauren Willig, Murder, New York, Paul Collins, Pulitzer, The English Wife, The Murder of the Century, The World, Times Square, Trial, Willig Winter

American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
Published by: Vintage
Publication Date: March 6th, 1991
Format: Paperback, 401 Pages
Rating: ★★★
To Buy

Patrick Bateman and his friends are the epitome of yuppiedom. Young, highly successful investment bankers, they wear the right designer labels, they are seen at the right restaurants, and they drink the right bottled water. Bateman could be any one of them, only he harbors something darker behind the veneer that is the true depth of those around him. He satisfies a violent blood lust killing women and men. They might have offended him, they might have merely looked at him the wrong way, or they might have a better business card. As Bateman fuels this dark need his desire to kill comes sooner and sooner. But with everyone living in their own chemically aided hermetically sealed bubble who would even notice his crimes?

American Psycho is one of those books that everyone knows about. Like classics that people brag about reading, I'm not sure how many of those people have actually read this book. The bookseller at Barnes and Noble who checked me out and who has literally never said more then a few words to me ever (even more impressive when you think how often I go to the bookstore) got all gushy about this book and Bret Easton Ellis, but with the caveat that it is violent. He wasn't wrong. This book is not an easy read. The violence and culture of the time make it hard to swallow. Yet there's something about the underlying message lambasting our culture that calls to us and makes the book still relevant. Why else would there not only be a movie but a musical, which actually makes more sense then you'd think, and a contemporary television show about an older Bateman in the works? Because Patrick Bateman is the zeitgeist of the late 80s in New York, whose afterimage can sadly still be seen today.

There's a fine line between camp and horror that Ellis walks in this book. American Psycho succeeds when it's subtle. Before we witness Bateman kill firsthand it's scenes like the one at the laundromat when he's trying to explain through belligerence and a language barrier the importance of getting his sheets whiter than white. Of course the sheets bear the hallmarks of the previous night's killing, but having not seen the killing the interaction is laced with dark humor. Not to mention my favorite scene where he decides his colleague must be killed for having a nicer business card. Being suggestive works far more than being graphic, and it's not long before Ellis is graphic. This is when the book shifts, and in my mind, starts to fall apart. Our imagination can be pretty horrific with just implying what happened, but Ellis, he is one sick fellow for some of the imagery he conjures, especially what "happens" to Bateman's ex from college.

Yet one does wonder how deliberate this downward spiral is. It's clear that Bateman's killing spree is ramping up, and therefore it does make sense to go gorier and grosser as he unravels, but it makes for a less readable story. The unraveling also raises the question of how much of this is real? Was Bateman so sick that he hallucinated it all? How else would Paul Owen be seen after Bateman killed him? I have a theory about Paul, but that will hold for a minute. It's the questioning of Owen still being alive as well as Bateman's seeming ability to get away with it all that makes one think perhaps it didn't happen. With the amount of drugs Bateman takes and looking to scenes like the chase with the helicopter, one can see how the "it's all in his mind" theory is plausible. And is it any less horrific to know that these are just his thoughts? For my money, I think he was a murderer, but I do like the ambiguity.

Going back to the zeitgeist and Bateman's mindset, I think American Psycho is a scathing attack on our culture during the late 80s. It's a flawed attack, but it gets it's point across admirably. One of the reasons it's hard to get into this book is the sheer number of designer brands Bateman lists. Every article of clothing in the whole book from Bateman's own wardrobe to everyone else he encounters is stripped down to their socks and shoes. After awhile you think that perhaps Ellis could lighten it up because he's gotten the point across, but he doesn't. I think that the fact that he doesn't give it up shows even stronger the relentless consumerism in our society. But it's not just the buying of more and more designer labels, it's also the lifestyle that goes with the designer labels, the physique that must be maintained, the music you listen to, everything is detailed to the nth degree and it shows how vapid and shallow our culture can be at it's very worse.

But not only does American Psycho attack our habits, it attacks what these habits make of us. Throughout the book Bateman is again and again mistaken for other investment bankers. He is interchangeable with his colleagues. Indistinguishable. Hence Paul Owen also being interchangeable and being able to be seen from beyond the grave.  The only thing that really separates Bateman is his blood lust. He is just a cog in the machine that is our culture. When he finally confesses his crimes they are viewed as a joke. Not only that, but the man he confesses to doesn't even realize he is Bateman! Once again he could be anyone. Everyone is only concerned about themselves and their problems, nothing else is relevant or even absorbed into their consciousness. This anonymity gives Bateman great freedom in being able to commit his crimes, but reflected back on us, this interchangeability means that Bateman might not be the "American Psycho" of the title. What do you see when you look in the mirror?

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: America, American Psycho, Brand Names, Bret Easton Ellis, Business Cards, Consumerism, Horror, Interchangeable, Killing, Murder, Patrick Bateman, Paul Owen, Yuppie

Secrets of the Manor: Kate's Story, 1914 by Adele Whitby
Published by: Simon Spotlight
Publication Date: June 24th, 2014
Format: Paperback, 148 Pages
Rating: ★★
To Buy

Kate can not wait for her twelfth birthday. Not only will she finally be receiving the Katherine necklace, the beloved family heirloom passed on to every Katerine in the family when she turns twelve, but her beloved cousin Beth is also coming all the way from England to Vandermeer Manor in Rhode Island. The cousins have never met because of the ocean that divides them, but they are devoted to their correspondence and know they will be kindred spirits and the best of friends. What's more, Beth just received the Elizabeth necklace for her twelfth birthday and for the first time since their great-grandmother's day the two halves of the necklace will be reunited. Though all the party planning in the world can't take into account the assassination of Archdukes! The news of the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand shortly after Beth's arrival in America leads to her parents ordering her home. War is on the horizon and Beth needs to be with her family. It is hard to choose between your heart and your duty, but Beth reluctantly agrees to return home, but not until after she and Kate have a few adventures of their own and reunite the two halves of the locket. 

To say I didn't like the first book in this series would be a gross understatement. Beth's Story so rubbed me the wrong way that besides the spewing of vitriol in my review I might have sold that book faster than any other in recent history. Yet I couldn't part with Kate's Story until I had read it. Yes, I know this might sound absurd, but I had bought this book and gosh darn it it wasn't leaving my shelves until it was read. Thankfully it was a mercifully short book that I knocked out in an hour or two. In fact I might have spent more time writing this review than I did reading the book if you needed a comparison. But in the end I obviously read it and, while I still didn't like Adele Whitby's writing style or story, I didn't hate it with the fury of ten thousand suns like I did the first volume. I think the primary reason for this is that having this book set in America and not in England it is in a society that had more fluid rules and protocol. Beth's Story being in England in 1914 meant that there were society's strictures that were to be obeyed and Adele Whitby flaunted them, if she ever knew them in the first place. While America did also have rules, being such a new country, one which took great joy in shaking off the strictures of England, there was room to play. There weren't any glaring incidents that made me hope that my eyeballs could light the book on fire with the power of my thoughts. In other words, I was able to make it to the end without any real rage forming.

Yet just because there weren't glaring errors, doesn't mean that this book didn't have aspects that annoyed me. They just annoyed me less and therefore I gave the book some leeway. My main gripe is with Kate and her "responsibilities." She is just about to turn twelve and she is already expected, or should I say honored, to attend meetings of The Bridgeport Beautification Society. So a twelve-year-old is to help an organization that is run by new wives and her mother's generation and older? A twelve-year-old! I can understand instituting civic-mindedness in a young girl, but to put her on an equal footing? Seriously!?! I just don't get this whole twelve-year-olds get all the responsibility that is going on in this series. They get expensive jewel encrusted necklaces and all the responsibility that comes with it all seemingly because this is how it happened to their great-grandmothers so obviously we must continue with this tradition. And hang on a minute, in 1848 would twelve-year-olds really be active in the life of their family in the aristocracy? They'd still be in the nursery... this whole thing is just a house of cards waiting for me to blow on it! I get that today in society twelve is kind of the age where things shift, you're on the brink of being a teenager and getting responsibilities, but in previous generations that wasn't the case. This book seems to be trying to shoehorn today's morays on yesterdays! In fact the word teenager didn't even exist until the time of Kate and Beth's daughters! Grumble.

Seems to me more and more that Adele Whitby needs some lessons in history before she's allowed to "teach" it in her books. What annoyed me in this book is that her inclusion of history has now turned into "teaching moments." In the first book the history was cheesy but was just part of the story, we weren't hit over the head with it. Here, here it's a different story. Learn about suffragettes! LEARN I SAY! I'm a person who likes to learn in two ways. The first is when I set out to learn. I take a class, I read the books, I study, I learn in that environment. The second way is passive learning. What you pick up here and there in books. Like Eddie Izzard says, you're flipping through the TV channels, stop for a moment on a show go, hey, I didn't know that, that's interesting, you move on. In other words I will never ever condone knowledge being forced on me. If there's one way to piss me off if I'm meeting you and you have something you want to tell me, if you call it a "teaching moment," know, that in that moment I am doing everything in my power not to punch you in the face. Looking ahead in the series it looks like these "teaching moments" are starting to take over with the potato famine, the great depression, ugh. Stop it now.

But what I think gets under my skin most is just how earnest this series is attempting to be. All about family loyalty and love. The only thing I can think of as being true is the secret that they harbor... because show me an insanely happy family and I'll show you their dirty dark secret. And again, the secret is that the original Katherine and Elizabeth switched places in case you forgot or were hit on the head, because you don't need all six books to figure it out, you need one, if that. No family in the world could be suffused with this much goodness. It's so saccharine and sweet that it makes my teeth ache. Oh, and Kate and Beth finally meeting? Like any cousins have this immediate sisterly bond? Ugh. I'm all for a happy read, but when they meet, oh, and when they join their lockets together? It was like some bizarre Edwardian power rangers. "With the power of our lockets combined we can transmute everyone into happy lovey-dovey zombies!" Because really, what other power could that locket give? Oh, maybe it gives off a brainwashing vibe? Yeah, that could be why everyone doesn't ring true. OK, I'm going with that, they are all under some sort of mind control. That's the only answer.

While these perfect bonds, cousinly and otherwise, are what this book is ostensibly about it really comes down to a lack of dimension. And seriously, I believe in true love, I want a happy ending, most of the time, but it's all in the way it's told that makes the difference. Yes I believe in love at first sight. Did I buy the chauffeur and Beth's maid's instant love? No. Because it was comic book level. It was caricature. Just because you are writing for younger readers doesn't mean that you don't put in the time to tell a good story. Like after two days they'd upset their whole lives to be together? They both knew where the other worked, they could have taken their time instead of doing something reckless. Plus really show the connection, not just hint at them blushing and leave it at that. And that's what it all comes down to. The shallowness of the book makes it predictable and dull. Yes I'm not the age it was written for, but a good story is for all readers, and this isn't a good story. There's a part of me that wants to read the rest of the series just to be vindicated that I saw all the twists and turns like the time I bothered to watch The Village, but really why submit myself to that? I'm not a masochist. Well, OK, sometimes I am with my reading, but I think I can finally walk away from this series and call it a day. If you'd take my advice, don't ever walk towards this series.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Adele Whitby, America, Beth's Story 1914, Downton Denial Denouement, Eddie Izzard, Edwardian, Kate's Story 1914, M. Night Shyamalan, Necklace, Rhode Island, Secrets of the Manor, Teaching Moment, The Village, WWI

The Valley of Fear by Arthur Conan Doyle
Published by: Book-of-the-Month Club
Publication Date: 1915
Format: Hardcover, 320 Pages
Rating: ★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Holmes has a snitch in Moriarty's organization. This snitch warns him of the impending murder of one John Douglas. Just as Holmes finishes perusing the note the police arrive to ask for his help in the murder of one John Douglas of Birlstone Manor in Sussex. Holmes's snitch lost his nerve and sent the note too late. Of course this only whets Holmes's appetite for the crime, because it obviously has some connection to Moriarty. The case is a perplexing one. Birlstone Manor is a moated property, with the drawbridge raised every night. John Douglas was shot at point blank range with a double barrelled shotgun blast to the face, yet only his house guest, Cecil Barker, heard the shot and was at the scene of the crime in minutes. Yet he didn't see the shooter. The only way the killer could have escaped is out the window and across the moat, which could be waded. Yet there are too many inconsistencies with the story and two things bother Holmes. One is that the victim's wedding ring was removed, though it was always beneath a second ring, which was still present. But more importantly, there is an exercise weight in the room. Only a single one. Where is it's mate? As Holmes pieces together what happened at Birlstone Manor he realizes that it is only the dead man or his killer who can tell the whole story, going back years ago to America, long before Cecil Barker met John Douglas, to the time before John's first marriage, to the deadly Scowrers.

The Valley of Fear is an odd edition to the canon of Sherlock Holmes. Once again Arthur Conan Doyle bowed to the pressure of his reading public and brought back his famous consulting detective, but in the most halfhearted way possible. The entire book feels as if it's balanced on a knife's edge between the extremes of not caring and finding some way to make it about anything other than Holmes. The most obvious aspect of Conan Doyle's laziness is that the structure of the book harks directly back to A Study in Scarlet. First half Holmes, second half America, back to Watson for the epilogue. This structure didn't really work the first time yet here we are in the same situation again. Yet this recurrence could have been forgiven had the initial mystery held, oh, I don't know, some mystery. What is in essence a locked room mystery, the cornerstone of compelling whodunits, is anything but captivating. In fact I was far more interested in the architectural design of the house where the murder occurred which was reminiscent of Madresfield Court, which is the ancestral seat of the Lygon family, than the crime which I solved ludicrously fast. You might say, oh, she's over-exaggerating her own crime solving prowess and the murder really was worthy of Holmes. No, I'm not, and no, it was not, hence my being able to solve it with such rapidity. The second the corpse was revealed with his face blown off and a missing wedding ring, I knew that the corpse laying on the floor wasn't the intended victim. It was all stage dressing, and clumsily done at that.

Which brings me back to the fact that this wasn't a crime worthy of Holmes. And the truth is, I think Conan Doyle did this on purpose. He no longer wanted to write about Holmes, so he couldn't be bothered. In fact with the second half of the book being set in America and not concerning Holmes he is quite obviously taking a step back from his famous detective. Holmes isn't really necessary for this story to work, he's more a deus ex machina, coming in and explaining what happened to wrap everything up. The Valley of Fear is written in such a way that it's a Sherlock Holmes book without really being a Sherlock Holmes book. All the writing prowess of Conan Doyle was exerted in the second part of the book with the Scowrers. Here he cared about writing a compelling narrative about evil men and secret societies. This is where Conan Doyle wanted to focus his energies, and so he did. He created a rather compelling second act, and I'm sure, if it was up to him, that would have been all he wrote. But he halfheartedly put together this framing device with Holmes so that the book is "technically" a Sherlock Holmes book. It makes me wonder what his reading public thought of it when it was published in 1915. Did they feel cheated? Was it a bait and switch? Or were they OK with the book because it had been ten long years since they'd had any new stories and therefore they took what they could get?

Or was the public appeased because of the Moriarty factor? Because incongruously, there is a strong Moriarty factor. I say incongruously because when this Napoleon of crime was introduced in "The Final Problem" he had never been heard of before. In fact Watson makes a big to-do about not knowing anything about Holmes's so-called arch-nemesis. Yet here Conan Doyle is going against his own set canon having Moriarty wandering about prior to "The Final Problem" with Watson and the police all in the "know." It feels like there's too much back-peddling and re-writing in The Valley of Fear for my taste. Conan Doyle didn't know that Moriarty would seize the imagination of his readers so strongly, therefore he was underused at the time, just a device to rid himself of Holmes. Yet seize their imaginations he did and Conan Doyle brought him back in the only way he could. So whereas his love of writing Holmes might have waned, he still was intrigued by this master criminal and was therefore willing to bring him back as a way to enliven Holmes's narrative. It was also probably a way to remind his readers that at any time Holmes might stop exhibiting his deity-like powers and be resurrected no more. So, perhaps it was more a threat than anything else? But the problem of Moriarty, coupled with the book's structure, is the whole story feels like it's in some way-back machine where it was picking and choosing what had previously worked and creating some semblance of a Holmes story while really wanting to be anything but.

What surprised me about The Valley of Fear was that unlike A Study in Scarlet, the American half of the book actually felt fresh and compelling. Unlike the bizarre fever dream of Mormonism in A Study in Scarlet, Conan Doyle creates a gritty world reminiscent of Deadwood and Dashiell Hammett's Red Harvest. This actually feels like a probable America, most likely because it was loosely based on real events. Reading it I was surprised by how relevant and modern it felt. When you think about Sherlock Holmes it is always as that outre detective working within a staid Victorian society. There is that nostalgia factor. Yet as Stephen Moffat and Mark Gatiss so rightly did when they revitalized the stories for Sherlock they focused on the fact that the stories weren't meant to be caught in these Victorian trappings. The stories were contemporary, of their time, and fresh. Why else were they so popular? Reading them a hundred years later it is almost impossible not to be caught up in the Victoriana, in the minutiae. But then you read The Valley of Fear and it smacks you in the face. It's so alive, so dark, so gritty, so full of corruption and bleakness that you get it. All of a sudden you get that Conan Doyle, while somehow caught in the amber of the past, really isn't of the past, he's creating studies of human nature that are just as relevant today as they were a hundred years ago!

Yet for all that is right, he still has some American issues. Much like we, as readers, have stereotyped him as the writer of the preeminent Victorian consulting detective, he has stereotyped us Americans. And once again the misconceptions and errors run rampant. Firstly, seeing as every American woman is trapped in a doomed love triangle where one of the suitors kills the other, usually after years, where is my doomed love triangle? I have spent my entire life to date without a doomed love triangle and according to Conan Doyle that means I'm not a real American woman. Also, where the hell does this story take place? For a quarter of the book I was sure it was somewhere out west, but slowly I had inklings that it might be Pennsylvania, and since when is Detroit considered the far north? Because Madison is more north than Detroit... so what does that make where I live? Probably Canada according of Conan Doyle... And while I really liked the inclusion of the Pinkertons, and oh, the irony of them being founded by a Masonic Order only to bring one down, I do laugh, I have Pinkerton issues. Mainly my Pinkerton issues are that by this time Pinkertons weren't all good guys. In fact, not to put to fine a point on it, they were kind of evil with their tactics and strikebreaking. So while they do employ underhanded techniques, their ambiguous moral code isn't even touched upon, making them kind of look like heroes, when they are anything but. But then again, Conan Doyle isn't really one for the whole "accuracy" angle, especially as regards anything American.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Study in Scarlet, America, Arthur Conan Doyle, Dashiell Hammett, Deadwood, Madresfield, Masonic, Moriarty, Pinkertons, Red Harvest, Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, The Final Problem, The Valley of Fear, Victorian

The Return of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle
Published by: Book-of-the-Month Club
Publication Date: 1905
Format: Hardcover, 381 Pages
Rating: ★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Many surprises are in store for Watson, the erstwhile chronicler of Sherlock Holmes. Since Holmes's death Watson has had quite a different life. He no longer writes about that great detective, he has put down his pen because the subject is just too painful. He has also lost his wife, their wedded bliss lasted only six years before she died. Watson is just plodding along, doing his duties to his patients, till everything changes. Holmes faked his own death and the time has come to reveal his resurrection. Moriarty's second-in-command Moran is about to be apprehended and it is now safe for Holmes to come out of hiding and reveal his continued existence to his dearest friend and companion, Watson. After Sebastian Moran is finally behind bars Holmes hopes that Watson will return with him to 221B and that their old bachelor crime solving days will recommence. The cases are even more illustrious than before, as the world rejoices at Holmes returning to put the criminal element in it's place. There is ironically a case about a man who fakes his own death, another about an infernally annoying code using dancing men, some waving little flags. As always money is a great motivator for crime, from inheritances to stolen jewels. While some of the cases are barely worthy of Sherlock, there are others that spur him to drastic, even criminal measures. One thing is certain, the world is a better place with Holmes waiting to solve your problems.

I can see why Conan Doyle tried to kill off his most famous creation. You reach a point when you feel there's nothing left to say, no more variations on a theme available. All the stories have been told. If I'm having trouble searching for new insights for yet another Sherlock Holmes review, can you imagine trying to find some new way in which to inveigle Holmes in yet another ingenious mystery? Let alone devise that mystery? Death might easily have been the only answer. Luckily for his readers it didn't stick. Conan Doyle finally caved to his eager public and their demands and The Return of Sherlock Holmes collects the next thirteen short stories of Holmes and Watson after a ten year absence. Yet I think it was very much a reluctant return. It's not that the stories aren't of the same caliber, or that Holmes is less brilliant, it's the undertone of the stories that struck me as poignant. I think it's not a coincidence that blackmail features so heavily among these tales. Conan Doyle was coerced into returning to writing Holmes; and while he went on to write another stand-alone book and two more collections of short stories, he always thought his energies would have been better spent elsewhere. His fans would disagree with this assertion I am sure, but I feel his pain... I still have something to say, but will I still have something to say come the final volume? I can't be sure and I can't condone the pigeonholing of anyone with artistic sensibilities. Change is good for the soul, and Holmes isn't one to embrace change.

After reading this book, especially combined with A Study in Scarlet, I seriously would like to know what Conan Doyle has against Americans. Yes, I've mentioned this before, but seriously, it's too weird not to bring it up again. As an American myself, it's just weird reading these stories, such as this volume's "The Adventure of the Dancing Men," wherein Conan Doyle's ignorance of America is only outdone by his obvious dislike of it. America is portrayed as a backward society full of violent people who for some reason strongly believe in the binding oath of arranged marriages. Seriously? Arranged marriages? Is this something that they just skipped over in history class wherein 19th century America was all about matchmaking? In fact, if you go to Wikipedia, you will notice that like England and Europe, ALL of North America is exempt from the tradition of these arranged marital alliances. Suck it Conan Doyle! Plus the violent American spurned bridegroom is another erroneous trope that Conan Doyle seems to take glee in writing. I can only thank the powers that be that we were spared Conan Doyle going into any detail about the child crime ring in Chicago. As someone whose ancestors lived in Chicago at the time period that Abe Slaney and Elsie Patrick of the aforementioned story did, I dread to contemplate what Conan Doyle's view of Chicago was...

Getting away from Conan Doyle's ignorance and prejudices and back to Holmes there is an aspect of Holmes that is getting on my nerves more and more. Whenever Holmes meets someone for the first time he does his signature trick of reading them and then telling them the details of their lives that make it look like he is a magician. He then explains how he reached these conclusions. The dirt on their shoes, the indent on their finger, the tailoring of their clothes, everything tells a story to Holmes. This isn't what I dislike. In fact, this is always the fun part of any story, Holmes proving his superior deductive abilities to the world at large. Also, his explanation isn't annoying either. What's annoying is that Holmes gets angry that after he explains how he did it everyone sees it as an "easy" trick. If you get mad at people when you willingly give them insight into how something is done then don't give them insight! It's like Houdini showing everyone how his magic is done and then being pissy that they no longer view it as magic. If it's explained it's no longer magic, it's as simple as that. In fairness to Holmes, he does want his techniques known so his explanation is logical. But he wants his techniques known in a scientific and rational way, not in the sensational way Watson writes it up. So therefore he needs to start embracing willingly sharing his techniques to his clients and his friends and this includes letting go of his huffy attitude when the simplicity of the observation is understood. And if he worries that sharing his gift will make him unnecessary, to that I say I don't think there are many people who can tell the different types of mud or tobacco.

The story that stood out most to me of the thirteen was "The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton." Yes, it did partly stand out because they used it as the arc of the most recent season of Sherlock; but more importantly, it stood out because Holmes and Watson set themselves clearly on the wrong side of the law and have fun doing it. Holmes even muses that if he had set his mind to it that he could have been quite the criminal genius. I personally have no doubt that he could be such a criminal, in fact, I often wonder why he solves crimes at all. He has no actual interest in his clients. In fact in "The Adventure of the Six Napoleons" he once again shows his callousness by assuming that everyone, especially his clients, have the same indifference to money as he does, and therefore greatly harms his client's pocketbook. He is only interested in things that will challenge his mind. In fact, he often has a hard time finding anything to divert him and be the least bit challenging. I would assume, with the glee he takes in playing the criminal, that actually taking to a life of crime would provide more range for his abilities. He wouldn't have to wait for someone to commit a mind-boggling and devious act, he could create them. And in fact in my second favorite story here, "The Adventure of the Abbey Grange," he lets a murderer go because he views this as true justice. Holmes is so close to stepping over the line I say he should just do it, become the new, and far cleverer Moriarty. There is a gap left in the world of crime from his departure...

Which in a roundabout way brings me to guilt. The more stories I read about Sherlock Holmes the more I realize he doesn't have any guilty clients. Now only a fool who committed a crime would hire Sherlock Holmes to look into the case, but still, people are amazing for the capability of deluding themselves. Holmes does mention one murderer who tried to hire him and was shown the door... but has Holmes ever mistakenly taken on a guilty party as his client? Has he ever committed such a faux pas? Occasionally his clients die, sometimes due to his negligence, but do they ever do the evil deed and cause someone else's death? Because as his clients are currently represented this would mean that Holmes is infallible, and I don't think this is the case at all. I think that Holmes is, very occasionally, human. So the question becomes, is Watson skewing the narrative to make Holmes look more God like? Is he expurgating the cases? It is something to wonder on... I almost hope that in one of the upcoming stories that this happens, just because it would shake things up a bit. The more I read, the more the similarities are apparent from case to case and just once I would like something radically different. Yes, Holmes playing criminal was nice... but let's switch things up even more. How about a criminal who doesn't confess everything? How about Holmes finding the evil doer and them being exonerated in a court of law because Holmes's evidence is so esoteric that the judge and jury find it unbelievable? Because, seriously, would most of Holmes's evidence stand up in a court of law? It's more than a little inconceivable.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Study in Scarlet, America, Arthur Conan Doyle, Blackmail, Criminal, Guilt, John Watson, Moriarty, Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, Sherlocked, The Return of Sherlock Holmes

Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle
Published by: Book-of-the-Month Club
Publication Date: 1892
Format: Hardcover, 307 Pages
Rating: ★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Holmes and Watson have had some unique adventures over the years and Watson has decided to share the choice stories, even if Holmes disapproves. They are all individual in some way that attracted Holmes to them, though some of them, like "The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle," just landed in their laps on a dull Christmas Eve, or more aptly, their dinner plates. Many of the tales actually have no crimes, per se, but that doesn't mean their isn't a mystery! And if it wasn't for Holmes untangling all the threads the police would have spent much time and possibly never learned that there actually was no crime. Money and greed is always a factor in crime perpetrated against people and institutions... sometimes on a grand scale, and sometimes in a very intimate fashion. Sometimes though it's a matter of revenge, years in the planning till finally the opportunity presents itself. And then, sometimes it's about something which Sherlock knows little about, love. It is with one of these cases that Sherlock finally meets THE woman of his life, Irene Adler. Holmes has only been outwitted four times in his long career, and only once by a woman. That woman was Irene Adler. She was just as clever as Holmes, but possessed true emotion, which Holmes viewed as a hindrance. Maybe she teaches him that it can be a benefit... she at least leaves a lasting impression.

While I usually have great issues with short stories, in that they have an inconsistency in quality which can have a stellar story followed by a disaster, I think that in the case of Sherlock Holmes it really works. With his first two books it felt as if Conan Doyle was stretching the story in order to give it greater weight and length; but the format of little short mysteries wherein you can sit down and enjoy one in about an hour before you go to bed is just right. As for the inconsistency, well, in this case a lot of it has to do with Conan Doyle developing as a writer. About half way through this collection, specifically during "The Five Orange Pips," you will literally be struck by how much more confident his writing is. What before was uneven is now smooth. This is perceptibly visible with each story's beginning. I wonder if Conan Doyle regretted marrying Watson off in The Sign of the Four because almost every one of these adventures has to justify Watson's presence at 221B. In the later adventures it's handled cleverly, either the story is set prior to the wedding, Watson is the instigator of the adventure, or it's just assumed that they were working in partnership. But these reasons are once Conan Doyle was more accomplished, prior to the shift, well, it doesn't just seem forced, but ham-handed. Almost each story starts "I was near 221B Baker Street and wondered what Holmes was up to." Seriously Watson? "Let's see what Holmes is up to!" Ugh. It just is a juvenile qualifier to start the story and lessens the tale as a whole by starting off on a wrong and amateurish footing. It's like forcing the story to start when it needs a more natural beginning.

Yet I realized something interesting with the development of Holmes and Watson's relationship. Yes, Holmes needs Watson to be his "biographer" as it were to feed his ego, but he also needs Watson to provide a more engaging tale. Of all the cases they handle they don't always handle them together, sometimes Watson is nothing more than a sounding board that sits in a chair and listens to Holmes. In one instance he is literally housebound due to his war injury. The cases where Holmes is out and about solving crime and then Watson is just in for the denouement are boring. We, as readers, are just reading a precise of what Holmes was up to. And while this might entertain Holmes's number one fanboy Watson, for us readers it doesn't. I don't want to be the person who just stops in every evening to 221B to get the latest news, I want to be in on the action! That is exactly why Watson is important! When he is in on the action we don't get the bare facts, we get insight into things that Holmes thinks are beneath him, like how the clouds look and was there a pretty sunset while they hunted over a certain moor. While this might seem a 180 from my previous mocking of Watson's florid prose, I counter with the fact that we need them, to a certain extent. Plus Watson has reigned them in a bit. Without this other context Holmes's adventures would read like police reports. Of course that is what Holmes would like, the science without the superfluous. But we need a bit of superfluous. 

Watson also humanize Holmes to a certain extent. In his first two stories he was very inhuman in his abilities and was kind of looked at as an oddity who was also a genius. Someone alien is hard to relate to. You can admire him, but you can't connect. Watson gives us a connection, an "in" into the stories. Hence, as I mentioned previously, they need to be working side by side. Though people might joke about Holmes's disconnect from emotion and people while still having such insight, sometimes he is way to callous for comfort. In "The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle" a down and out man who would have been the unexpected recipient of the lustrous jewel is bought off with a goose. Um... shouldn't he be getting the reward money that was offered at least? He had the luck to get the goose that laid the golden egg and he gets nothing and Holmes doesn't even have a backward glance for this poor soul. In "The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb" he tries to cheer up Victor Hatherley that although he might have lost his thumb, almost lost his life, and was out his promised money, at least he has a great story! What the heck! Great way to console someone Holmes, it's all about the entertaining story, not about losing your opposable thumb! And then in "The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor" he is offended that the bachelor in question, aka the bridegroom, won't sit down to a hearty meal with the woman he lost... excuse me? Holmes actually thought that everything would be fine? Seriously, he knows so much but is sometimes so dumb. And that's not even going into the full ramifications of "The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet!"

Which brings me in a roundabout way to Irene Adler. Firstly, Adler herself is a conundrum in the cannon of Holmes. She has one brief appearance in one story, "A Scandal in Bohemia," but can be found in almost all adaptations, continuations, what have you. This one character has taken on a significance almost greater than Watson. There is part of me which wonders if this is to balance the male and female dynamic in the works of Conan Doyle. Quite literally there aren't many women, and when they do appear in stories such as "The Adventure of the Speckled Band," "A Case of Identity" and "The Adventure of the Copper Beeches," they are just pawns in a greater game so that their families can steal their fortunes. Therefore Irene seems to be the great leveler. Here is someone who is not only female, but she bests Sherlock Holmes. She makes women of significance, though one should note that this is only for the readers, for Holmes she is the ONLY woman of significance. What I find interesting about Irene Adler is that she is almost the exact opposite of Holmes. She doesn't view emotions as unnecessary and stumbling blocks to solving cases. She uses them to her benefit and she outwits Holmes. Which makes me wonder if Holmes ever thought after their encounter if he was doing something wrong. Could he do what he does without shutting down human emotions? Holmes wouldn't be the man we know... but perhaps he would be a better man.

One thing this collection brought home to me once again is that for all that Holmes knows, Conan Doyle himself is quite ignorant on many things, and many of these things are related to the great U. S. of A. What bothers me even more is that this perpetuates myths and stereotypes about the country I happen to call home. And it's not just his not quite getting political and religious organizations, he needs to freakin' look at a map. This all started back with A Study in Scarlet. While Conan Doyle later went on to apologize about the atrocities and lies he propagated about the Mormons with his incorrect data, he didn't apologize for geographical errors. I would sincerely like to know how the Mormons on their journey from Illinois to Utah, which I have taken by train I might add, went through the alkali salt flats of Nevada... the state even further away from Illinois than their destination. As for the KKK in "The Five Orange Pips," ugh. The naivety of Conan Doyle just drove me to distraction sometimes. I mean really. This just gets under my skin. Holmes is supposed to be mystical in his all knowing prowess and yet time and time again whenever America comes up Conan Doyle's ignorance rears it's ugly head. Which kind of brings all the writing down a peg. If something that any American could point to as wrong is given as fact, what else is wrong in these books? How infallible was Holmes really? And all because of his creator...

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: 221B, A Study in Scarlet, Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, America, Arthur Conan Doyle, Biographer, Irene Adler, John Watson, KKK, Money, Mormons, Murder, Sherlock Holmes, Sherlocked, The Sign of the Four, The Woman

Thumb Flagging by Jerome Peterson
Published by: Eloquent Books
Book Provided by the Author
Publication Date: March 31st, 2009
Format: Hardcover, 410 Pages
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy

Jay Patterson has issues. The only boy and the youngest of a brood of five sisters he suffers from spoiled brat syndrome. This shadow occasionally rears it's selfish head now and again but he wants to control it. Willy is Jaybirdy's friend and he thinks he has the cure... hitchhiking. A way of life where you are at the mercy of those who pick you up and all you can do is have the proper presentation while hitching on the side of the road to achieve the more desirable rides, because one bad ride is all it takes. Willy convinces his crackerjack friend that the time is right for him to learn the ways of the concrete diva. "Afoot and lighthearted, I take to the open road" to live the American Mythology of freedom. The next day, slightly hungover, they take to the Arizona highway and byways to visit Jay's sister in Durango, Colorado. While waiting to be chosen by one of the multitude of cars that pass them, Willy imparts his knowledge and experience to Jay. How it's all about the attitude, posture and letting go, as Willy likes to cry out: "Me is free of identity!" Jay also observes that the way Willy sticks his thumb out with a little jaunty move it looks like a flag blowing in the breeze... and Thumb Flagging is born.

On their way to Durango they encounter many an interesting fellow. From a cowboy who holds more sadness in his heart then Jay can bear, to a preacher's wife who wants to know if Jay believes in love at first sight, to the scariest knife wielding crazy you could imagine, Petrie Sykes, to monument obsessed Native Americans, they meet every facet of humanity on the concrete diva. But between the good rides and the bad they arrive at Jay's sister's house unannounced. While she isn't pleased they have a fun night out and Willy and Jay hook up with some girls and they head back to Arizona in the morning flush with victory. On their return they plan to head back to work but they've been suspended because they didn't show up due to thumb flagging. Their solution is to take to the open road once more to while away their three day suspension.

Jay gets the crazy idea from seeing Bob Dylan's house in the newspaper that they should head to Malibu and see if they could meet his idol. There would be no greater homage to the man then thumb flagging to meet him. This leg of the journey is predominately peopled with a pro golfer, Trent Love, a psychic, Celeste, and a mentally handicapped man, Raymond, who has issues with some seagulls. The ominous Sykes also makes an appearance with a mysterious woman now by his side. Celeste rattles their cages and makes them come to some harsh conclusions about themselves. Jay decides that he must keep his spoiled brat child of a shadow under control or he will take those he cares for down with him. While Willy becomes reckless and decides they should be true hobos and illegally ride the rails before he confesses he has a son and a girl back in Maine and he thinks the time has come to return to them. Before he leaves Arizona they learn of Trent Love's horrible murder and they know it's Sykes. Willy's parting advice is to not tell the cops because Sykes would know it's them. Jay breaks this promise.

Summer comes and Jay has decided it's time to thumb flag his way to Maine to visit Willy and his son Hudson. With his trusty huskote, Nanook, he takes to the road. From preachers to servicemen he makes it across the Mississippi no longer being the pupil but the preacher himself. Jay has more confidence and Willy's knowledge to impart. Once in his home state of Illinois he finds himself perfectly paired with another thumb flagger, Chloe, who joins him on his journey. Chloe has a much more energetic and dance happy attitude to flagging with her trusty tape recorder blaring out Christmas Carols in July, which masks her emotional baggage. But there's a shadow, not his own demons, but Sykes and Mona are following them, knowing it was Jay who ratted them out to the police. Are they safe? Is Willy and his family safe? Is Chloe the answer to all Jay's questions? Can Jay just live with how things turn out and embrace the acceptance and detachment that Willy taught while they traveled this great land?

Broken into three sections this book slowly builds, creating a portrait of America and the humanity that dwells within. The first section is dominated by Willy as he imparts his wisdom to Jay and teaches him the ways of the concrete diva. The second section is more a journey of equals, where Willy is more a trusty companion then the driving force of their first journey. The third section is strictly Jay's journey and his acceptance of the life he finds. While I enjoyed the first two sections with Willy, who is a very humorous belief spouting traveler, it wasn't until Jay's journey that I became invested in the characters. Willy's humor and rhetoric act as a shield, so while you appreciate him, you don't really empathize or relate, unlike Jay. Jaybirdy is vulnerable and more relatable. Plus, I'll put this right out there, I'm a sucker for Nanook, who's such a sweet, smart dog. Also, as I've always said, look to how people treat their animals, and the bond that exists between Nanook and Jay shows the quality of person he is.

The two aspects of the book that thoroughly engrossed me in the third part was the Sykes mystery and Chloe. The first two sections were just as much about the journey as the destination, in fact the destination did not really matter in the end. Whereas in this final section, while the journey is just as important as the previous sections, the destination is even more so because of the Sykes/Mona factor and the Chloe factor. Can Jay stop this devious couple and protect his friend he is going to see while also winning the hand of the fair maiden before journey's end? It made me veritably fly through the final 200 pages.

As a final rumination I will say that I have many similarities to Jay's issues he has which he uses the highway as therapy for. I would never think of taking the action he did but I can see the benefit of taking him out of his comfort zone and how this forces him to grow up. This is a true American coming of age story where Jay's inhibitions are overcome up the siren call of the road. I have never felt an urge to just head to the nearest embankment and stick out my hand, but I have friends who have and who valued this experience as part of their lives. For those who would never or those who have this book is a great read. It has a little bit of everything and just might make you want to take out your map and see where the road might lead as passenger or driver.

Remember you can enter to win a signed copy of this book until December 20th!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 3:58 AM 1 comments  

Labels: America, Arizona, Bob Dylan, Book Review, Hitchhiking, Hudson, Jay Patterson, Jaybirdy, Jerome Peterson, Maine, Mona, Nanook, Raymond, Thumb Flagging, Trent Love, Willy Jacobs. Petrie Sykes