strange and random happenstance

For years I put off watching The Mystery of Edwin Drood because I wanted to read the unfinished manuscript by Dickens in order to read Dan Simmons's Drood. Then when this movie came out, because even if they call it a miniseries, only two hour-long episodes only equals a movie, I still hadn't gotten around to my previous goals so I thought I'd wait. Well, seeing as it's now way over a decade later and I still haven't gotten around to reading, well, either of the aforementioned books, I figured it was time to watch this adaptation. Plus, I was going through severe Freddie Fox withdrawal. Who would have thought I'd ever like anyone other than Tom Hiddleston playing Loki!?! And now that Freddie's really the only socially acceptable male Fox, how could I not give into the craving? Which sadly this didn't quite assuage. In fact, if you really need a Freddie Fox fix Year of the Rabbit episode three, "Gangs," is perfection. There is of course the first few seasons of Slow Horses, but, things don't end up so well for him there.... Back to Dickens! There are many problems with this "miniseries," the most glaring of which is how forgettable it is. I just watched this and I am struggling to recall anything that happened. The problem was this should have been minimally a three-part adaptation. It's just too short to get the full panoply of Dickensian characters. This is exacerbated by the fact that the entire first episode is basically Matthew Rhys in a drugged fug, making anything happening too hard to comprehend even for Hunter S. Thompson. Which, if they had stretched this to three episodes would have been mitigated. Because the angry dissociation of the first episode would have been just part of our tale not half of it. Well, more than half of it because it's not like John Jasper is giving up the drugs anytime soon. And yes, I think if Dickens had survived Wilkie Collins would have possibly had a valid case for libel. But the saving grace of this series is David Dawson as Bazzard. David Dawson who just happens to play Joseph Merrick, "The Elephant Man," in the aforementioned episode of Year of the Rabbit, "Gangs." Seriously, go watch that episode. It might be one of the funniest things you'll ever watch in your entire life. While here David Dawson brings the Dickensian vibe this series was so sorely missing in its first half. He is the clerk to Edwin Drood's fiance's guardian. And given this is Dickens, that's actually a concise relationship. Usually they are all convoluted and full of secrecy. He basically gets stuck into all the mysteries and secrets and just solves everything. I'm sad that he couldn't solve the problem of this show, but there's only so much one character can do. Especially if he's given only one episode to do it in.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Bazzard, Charles Dickens, Dan Simmons, David Dawson, Drugs, Fifty-Five Years a Masterpiece, Freddie Fox, Hunter S. Thompson, Loki, Matthew Rhys, The Mystery of Edwin Drood, Tom Hiddleston, Wilkie Collins, Year of the Rabbit

Do you ever randomly get an intense need for Wilkie Collins in your life? I assume it's just not me, but then again, it might just be me. Thankfully for me, and hopefully for you as well, there's a plethora of adaptations to fill the void when you just don't have the time to read or reread one of his books. The thing that I love about Wilkie Collins adaptations is that they have this very solid core structure and then the actors have fun imbuing the characters with traits that might not even seem logical but are at the very least original. Just look to Charles Dance and Ian Richardson's different takes on Mr. Fairlie in their respective adaptations of The Woman in White. Both are so delicate yet over the top. They are both brilliant in their own special way. Though in recent years Sarah Hadland as Miss Clack in the 2016 version of The Moonstone might win as my favorite. This version of The Moonstone from 1972 has a charm all it's own. It sticks pretty faithfully to the book and has the distinct honor of having two of the heartthrobs from the day, Robin Ellis and Martin Jarvis, vying for the hand of fair lady. Robin Ellis brings his trademark taciturnity while Martin Jarvis gets to die for annoying me so greatly in The Forsyte Saga. Yes, I keep track of actors who annoy me and take great joy in watching them come to bad ends in other shows. Though there's nothing as satisfying as them dying IN the production they are annoying me in. Yes, I'm looking at you Sam Neill in Reilly, Ace of Spies. Also, if you're a longtime reader of my blog I'm sorry for how much I mention my hatred of that show. I just really hate it. Moving on, this adaptation of The Moonstone very much feels like a seventies adaptation. Which isn't a bad thing. There's something about the sets that date it and give it such a nostalgic feel that I can't help but love each and every second of it. Plus, can I say, that the way they painted the door made SO MUCH more sense than the 1996 version. Why are they painting the outside of the door in the 1996 version where she can't admire it when she's in her room? But that is a mystery not for me but for Sergeant Cuff! And this, I can definitively say, is the best Cuff of the lot. I adore John Welsh. He is a consummate professional and has somehow always looked in his late seventies despite dying at only seventy in 1985. He's been in so many series I honestly couldn't name where I first saw him. And he's literally been a part of Masterpiece since the beginning, playing John Forsyte in The Forsyte Sage with the previously unlamented Martin Jarvis. The Moonstone, along with Country Matters, The Edwardians, The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club, The Duchess of Duke Street, and To Serve Them All My Days are the Masterpiece shows he featured in only during the first decade of the show! But I personally always refer to him as Merriman, the venerable elderly head waiter of the Bentinck Hotel, from The Duchess of Duke Street. Whenever he shows up on a show it's like seeing an old friend. So even in my bleakest hours lately watching The Citadel, at least when Merriman showed up I knew, for the moment, things were looking up. He just brings such gravity and intelligence to the role of Cuff that I fully believed in the role. Sometimes the casting makes the copper to retired rose horticulturist a tad unbelievable. Here, here I buy it. I buy it all.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Charles Dance, Fifty-Five Years a Masterpiece, Ian Richardson, John Welsh, Martin Jarvis, Merriman, Robin Ellis, Sergeant Cuff, The Duchess of Duke Street, The Forsyte Saga, The Moonstone, The Woman in White, Wilkie Collins

Fingersmith by Sarah Waters
Published by: Riverhead
Publication Date: October 1st, 2002
Format: Paperback, 548 Pages
Rating: ★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Sue Trinder has grown up in Lant Street. She has never left this slummy Borough of London and has never wanted to. She has lived her entire life in the care of Mrs. Sucksby, who makes her living farming babies. But Sue was the only baby that ever mattered to Mrs. Sucksby. They live with Mr. Ibbs, who makes his living in the roundabout manner of taking in dubious goods through the back door and sending it out the front in a slightly different "legitimate" form. The rest of the household is made up of Mr. Ibbs's invalid sister and John Vroom, a man with a love for dog skins, and his simple girl Dainty. This is Sue's world and they are as dear to her as family. One day an acquaintance, known to all as Gentleman, arrives with a plan to make all their fortunes using Sue. Mrs. Sucksby has always told Sue that she would be the making of them all and now Sue has her chance. Gentleman has been posing as an artist, a Mr. Rivers, for a Mr. Lilly, who lives out west in the Thames Valley. Mr. Lilly has a niece, Maud. Maud is where their fortune will be found. Gentleman has been seducing this isolated girl in hopes of getting at her fortune through marrying her but has hit a brick wall; Maud's maid. Maud's maid was their chaperon and has taken ill and now Maud isn't allowed in the presence of Gentleman. Gentleman has decided to fix that. By installing not only a new chaperon, but one that will help him pursue his interests with Maud. With Sue on the inside it is a win win situation. They will compromise Maud, throw her in an insane asylum, and split her vast fortune and live like toffs. What could possibly go wrong? In a world where there are plots within plots, games within games, and you don't know who's playing who, there are a lot of ways this could play out...and perhaps it won't be to everyone's liking.

Fingersmith is an amazing book if you were to redact the final two-thirds of the book. There's only so many times you can see the same events through the eyes of different characters before you start to tune out. But this is a very Victorian trope, like Wilkie Collins's The Woman in White, it overstays it's welcome by several sections. Yet while The Woman in White might have overstayed it's welcome it was always moving forward not dwelling on the same events over and over again. Though this book can't be discounted just for falling prey to the tropes Waters is emulating. She does an amazing job of capturing the seamy side of Victorian London. Sometimes you're reading about other times and think, now that would be a nice place to visit. Not here, not this world. And I think that's what makes the world of the book so real. You feel as if this is probably the most accurate depiction you've ever read of this time period. It's filthy and dirty, it's creaking corset stays on a large woman who never washes herself and the secrets she hides within her bodice. Maud's penchant for gloves, though not of her own doing, at least is some kind of barrier to the grotesques that are discussed. But even they are tainted. The only bright spot is the friendship and love that develops between Sue and Maud. Fingersmith is perhaps most famous because it continues in Waters tradition of depicting lesbianism in different eras. Sapphic love has been around as long as there have been humans, yet it wouldn't have been openly discussed in Victorian times, despite it existing. Here Waters is breaking down another door, going all out with what would be a taboo subject and making it believable and compelling. For all the repetition and all the tropes she falls victim to in her writing of this story there is the other side of the coin. All that she does right. A more accurate depiction of the times, relationships that are real, making us readers see that this world of times gone by was just as real as the "now." Because more than anything, that is what this book does, make Victorian England real.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Confidence Trick, England, Fingersmith, Gentleman, Historical Fiction, Lesbian, Maud Lilly, Mrs. Sucksby, POV, Pride, Sarah Waters, Sue Trinder, The Woman in White, Tropes, Victorian London, Wilkie Collins

I stumbled upon C.C. Aune quite literally at a Wizard World Convention in December of 2018. I had been going to Wizard World Conventions since I first heard about them in 2004 though they had been around my entire life. I could interact with all my favorite geeky celebs! Alan Tudyk, Felicia Day, David Tennant, so many stars! In fact I was star stalking at the Madison convention in 2018. I was stalking Quentin Coldwater, real name Jason Ralph, from The Magicians. But it was a twist of fate that I was there at all. As anyone who has attended a convention knows they are wicked pricey. I was only able to attend because I got a free one day pass. And while yes, getting to meet and talk to Jason Ralph, who is far shorter than I imagined, was fun, the highlight was actually picking up C.C. Aune's The Ill-Kept Oath. The best kept secret about the Wizard World conventions that I hope continue in their new iteration as Fan Expo, is the Artists Alley. Here you get authors, makers, illustrators, any and all people who create selling their wares. You can pick up amazing things for reasonable prices and actually contribute to an artist's livelihood instead of just helping Funko head towards world domination. I have met many amazing people through the years in Artists Alley, one highlight being meeting Peter S. Beagle, another watching one of my friends have a fun time running their own booth. Oddly I think that might have been the same year down in Chicago. Well there I was strolling through Artists Alley and I see this book, this book that looks magical. And I start to talk to the author and I blurt out "YOUR BOOK IS REGENCY MAGIC!?!" She says yes, and the next moment I'm asking her to sign a copy to me, who cares if I can't buy anything else I HAD to buy this. Being at the event, finding this book, it all felt magical. And then I read it and instantly started hounding, very politely, on Facebook for the sequel. And all that has led to this, she was willing to answer a few questions. So I hope you all make C.C. Aune, author of The Ill-Kept Oath, welcome. And also BUY HER BOOK!

Question: When did you first discover Jane Austen?

Answer: Hmm. Shockingly late, considering my work.

I have always been obsessed with historical fiction, nonfiction, and biographies. Also, I'm an Anglophile (not a rabid royal worshiper type, just a history buff), especially because I also do genealogy, and most of my family history is English. The family lines go way back, most of them to the 1400s, and some even further. I've been to Britain several times, once just to do research.

So when the concept for Oath fell into my lap (around 2001), I was predisposed to want to write something super detail-oriented. (That's a whole other topic for discussion.) I was utterly uninformed about regency literature. A writing friend told me about Georgette Heyer. Jane Austen came along sometime after that. (Not to mention Fanny Burney and other authors of that era.) I had missed seeing the famous BBC 1995 P and P, so I had to rent it in bits at the video store!

In short, I'm not exactly sure when I first read P and P, but my Borders Books copy says 2004, so it looks like I must've been writing my series for 2-3 years before I ever read Jane's work! Really shocking! I believe I was channeling Heyer, Dorothy Dunnett (her Lymond series), and Diana Gabaldon as I first embarked on my own writing. And then Jane Austen came along to add the refinement.

I remember quite clearly thinking that I wanted to use the device of writing letters and the delay in communication in 1820 to create the suspense, the drama, and the miscues of the story. I was sitting on my computer thinking how the average reader of 2001 might no longer appreciate how deeply "snail mail" affected lives 200 years earlier. My original drafts were actually epistolary, just Josephine and Prudence writing letters to each other in first person. Sadly, the premise became forced by the second and third books when they can no longer communicate by mail, so I rewrote it using third person structure. I should add that Wilkie Collins' The Woman in White was my real foundation in terms of the first person, epistolary, and document-driven structure.

Question: What do you think Jane Austen would think of her impact with so many literary offshoots, from parody to pastiche?

Answer: For the most part, I think Jane would be delighted. For one thing, she could not have imagined a world where women could write with their own name openly credited, and on any subject of their choosing. I suspect she would've verbally pooh poohed the idea that she led the way, yet would secretly have felt proud of the knowledge that she had.

And what validation! Not only was she a pioneer in a new genre and as a female making her career as an author, but her work has remained relevant in a world where many of the key plot points no longer affect most modern women. Why is this? Because her characters' feelings and behaviors are still universal. Because her humor and dry observations of humanity are still universal.

When it comes to the knockoffs, which range from serious to silly, Jane might rightly feel flattered in all cases, though I'm certain her sensibilities would be shocked by many versions. Could she even wrap her head around any book with adult themes that employed her characters? Surely that would give her the vapors! She might not mind the murder mystery and vampire tale homages, though they'd probably puzzle her to no end. Her purpose was completely different from theirs, which use her beloved characters as pre-fleshed-out props for stories that discard her social commentary. But I like to think that she'd be pleased with the agency given to females in these homages. That has always been my objective, to offer women in Jane's time period the opportunity to have more power in their lives, and to look at how that society, men in particular, would react when women try to assert those strengths. Hint: there are always plenty of obstacles, even when a gentlewoman possesses unique powers.

Question: Where do you get your inspiration from?

Answer: The initial concept itself came from a brief writing project with another writer, who ended up bowing out. I came to it with no knowledge of the historical period, the language and writing style, nor the literature, and no particular affinity for magical fantasy. My learning curve was huge. I had been reading Wilkie Collins and liked the idea of unfolding a story about women through letters, testimony, and legal documents. I had just devoured all four (at that time) Diana Gabaldon Outlander books and loved her attention to historical detail. I started reading Georgette Heyer, which is where I began to pick up the manner of speech of that time (yes I now realize she is not regarded as the finest scholar, among other things.) Oh, and Dorothy Dunnett's truly phenomenal Lymond Chronicles.

At some point, likely after the series was well under way, Jane Austen finally came into my life. All the popular Austen knockoffs like PP and Zombies, Death Comes to Pemberley, and Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell were published well after my project had gotten under way. I had probably written four or five novels worth of text before they hit the bookstores, so none of those works are influences on my writing.

Question: What makes the early 19th century mesh so well with magic?

Answer: One main theme of my series is that perhaps magic has actually become obsolete. It is the Age of Enlightenment and also the Industrial Age. The Regency sits right on the cusp between the old world and the new world, politically, scientifically, mechanically, and socially. I address the idea that rational people do not and cannot believe in magic. It's considered irrelevant, a relic of the feudal past, when kings and lords had less physical power to maintain their dominions. So when the book opens, magic has been banned for about 15-16 years. Very few people remain alive who've inherited magic, many of them orphaned young adults, but some of the original ones want very much to restore their so-called birthright.

I like to emphasize the "scientific realism" aspect of magic, so I talk about genetic inheritance (yes, the period is 40 years before Mendel, but hey), and in the second book I address layers of consciousness, the "ether" that surrounds us, through which magic moves, and what it feels like to create magic.

I like to think of magic as a thing that must be studied, learned, and honed, and that some people might actually be much better at it than others. This early 19th century time period feels perfect for this clash of rational thought and scholarliness with irrational, inexplicable forces.

Question: The world building and system of magic varies greatly in the Regency fantasy genre, how did you go about creating yours?

Answer: As I said in the previous answer, I started with the idea that this was a world that was transitioning into a more rational, scientific view of inexplicable phenomonena. Magic needs to be experiential and also challenging to its user, not just a "Bewitched" nose wiggle. Also, magic is rare in humans, so a nonbelieving witness will not even stop to consider that they've seen magic as opposed to some odd, inexplicable event.

Certainly, some magical skills do come naturally, and can even be deployed without much aforethought. It will become clearer in the second book that there are two types of Talisman Keepers, Mages and Protectors. Protectors like William MacNeal and Josephine have intuitive defensive physical skills that they are driven to hone without knowing why. They will always be better at fighting, shooting, and leadership than the average person. MacNeal has another enhancement: he has visions that warn him of impending disasters. Mages like Prudence can do minor magical tasks, even unconsciously. But their strength lies in studying the art of magic, knowing specific spells and charms, and knowing which ones to choose and how to deploy them properly (in book 2, Prudence frequently deploys magic incorrectly). Both groups receive additional boosts from their Talismans. The Talismans do not themselves impart powers, they magnify them. Josephine and Prudence don't quite grasp this detail in book one, but by the opening sequence of book 2 it is clear to them.

There is an additional layer to the magic in my world: it is tied to ancient Celtic roots and the language of magic is Gaelic. There is yet more to it, but not everything is revealed, even in the second book. But you will get a further look into the magical system, its history, and the intentions of the antagonist rebel faction.

Question: If you had to choose between writing only period literature or only fantasy literature, which would win?

Answer: That's tough to answer, particularly since I'm researching a new historical fiction series that's period literature but has absolutely no magic. The period aspect to literature is my main jam. The fantasy aspect to my first series came about by chance, though I have really enjoyed creating this intricate alternate universe. I have enough material to explore the Talisman Keepers for a long time yet to come, and would likely be able to create a prequel series using the same world and rules. So, the answer is, I quite love my cast and will not be retiring them any time soon. But I also have non-fantasy ideas to explore.

Question: Be honest, have you ever dressed up in Regency clothes just to pretend for a moment you are in the past?

Answer: Indeed! I was somewhat in costume when you and I met at the Con in Madison in 2018. I had a silly hat that sort of approximated a bonnet, a velvet coat that is cut much like a pelisse, and some granny boots. In 2021, I acquired a handmade period bonnet from a real hatmaker and wore it to a local book fair last year (a super dorky picture is in my posts*). The book fair is coming up again later this month, and I've been contemplating buying a cheap costume dress to go all in.

In the back of my mind, I would love to get the full kit for appearances. And then there's the annual Austen event in Bath....attending that would be a hoot! I'm one of those people who's both an introvert and an extrovert. I rather like the attention I get from cosplaying, moreso than the effort of selling my books in person. I think: aw, just buy my book and let my writing speak for itself! Don't make me talk about it. I'm a writer, hahaha.

*Which I have reposted here! Evil laugh evil laugh!

Biography:
C.C. Aune's ramblings have led her through 49 states - nine of which she has called home - plus a fair number of countries. She has been a journalist and a contributor for the companion book to PBS's 2000 series In Search of Our Ancestors. Currently, she directs the blog One Year of Letters, which explores the internal landscape of writers. The Ill-Kept Oath is her debut novel.

C.C.'s Social Media:
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Goodreads

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Artists Alley, C.C. Aune, Cosplay, Diana Gabaldon, Dorothy Dunnett, Georgette Heyer, Jane Austen, Jason Ralph, Regency Magic, Talisman Keepers, The Magicians, The Woman in White, Wilkie Collins, Wizard World

No Wind of Blame by Georgette Heyer
Published by: Arrow
Publication Date: 1939
Format: Paperback, 352 Pages
Rating: ★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Ermyntrude Carter is hosting a shooting party at her home, Palings. Little does she realize that it won't be fowl that is shot. She is a former actress and a wealthy widow with a precocious daughter, Vicki, who likes her ensemble to match the moment and the character she is emoting. A flair for the dramatic runs in the family. Ermyntrude made the mistake of choosing the feckless and philandering Wally Carter as her second husband and it has caused her no end of headaches. But if her guest, the Georgian Prince Alexis Varasashvil, has anything to say about it Wally won't be Ermyntrude's husband for much longer. She has put up with Wally's scheming and his sighing and his complaining, but knocking up a local girl might just be the last straw. And as for the blackmail letter.... Well, the Prince's offer of marriage is looking better and better. Who cares if he's also a fortune hunter? He's better than the one she's got. But then the one she's got claims that someone has taken a shot at him. No one believes Wally and what's more, no one cares. But then attempted murder because murder when Wally is shot and killed. He was crossing over a little bridge to the neighbor's house to discuss a new get-rich-quick scheme he's thought up and that, as they say, was that. But no one was near the weapon and it just doesn't seem possible. How can a weapon fire without someone on the trigger? The only evidence of a crime really is Wally's corpse. The local police see this murder as way beyond their pay grade and call in Scotland Yard. Inspector Hemingway arrives on the case and sees that everyone has a motive, from the misused wife, to the courting prince, to the quirky step-daughter, to the ward, to the neighbor, all the way down to the brother of the pregnant girl. And each and every one of them isn't being very cooperative or honest. But if Inspector Hemingway is honest he realizes that first they need to figure out how Wally was killed before they can come to a who. The method will reveal the murderer. Or at least that's the hope.

I picked up No Wind of Blame for one reason and one reason only, I wanted to read Envious Casca. I have a deep seeded need to read holiday themed murder mysteries during the month of December. If it's set up as a locked room murder mystery with the snowbound residents of a country estate as the only suspects, well, all the better. And that in a nutshell is the glory of Envious Casca. But I saw it was the second book in the Inspector Hemingway series so obviously I felt I had to read No Wind of Blame first. I really shouldn't have done this because this book was truly awful. And to add insult to injury, Inspector Hemingway is hardly in it. So really, what was the point? Plus now that they've renumbered the series and this is the sixth in the "Inspectors Hannasyde and Hemingway" series I don't think if I had had four more books to read before getting to Envious Casca I would have ever made it. In fact most Georgette Heyer fans have a strict policy of not reading her mysteries. I can kind of see why if this was the only one I'd read. But my main problem was that the blurb on the back cover basically gave away the whole plot. AKA, why I write my own blurbs for my reviews. They're the blurbs books should have had in my mind. I remember years ago in his book The Polysyllabic Spree where he recounted his love of reading Nick Hornby called out whomever wrote the blurb to his copy of Wilkie Collins's No Name. The book has an ingenious twist that the blurb gave away. His advice was to buy the book but read nothing on it and I did just that. I mean I'm very anti spoilers, but if someone blurts out something in the heat of the moment it's far less egregious an error than writing it out, getting it approved, and then getting it printed on the back of a book. Did no one go, hey, perhaps we shouldn't say this? Maybe they assumed as the book was written in World War II that spoilers no longer mattered. Spoilers always matter! But more importantly is unique characters, kindness to fellow humans, oh, and not having a twist out of a Bond movie!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Envious Casca, Georgette Heyer, Inspector Hannasyde, Inspector Hemingway, Murder, Murder Most Foul, Nick Hornby, No Name, No Wind of Blame, Scotland Yard, Spoilers, The Polysyllabic Spree, Wilkie Collins

Sometimes there is an adaptation so perfect that you don't know which came first for you, reading the book or watching the adaptation. This is how it is for me with The Moonstone, the two are forever intertwined and my story is a mystery even to myself. On the shelves of our library cum television room we had the complete set of the Franklin Library's Masterpieces of Mystery, The Moonstone being one of the volumes, with it's faux red leather binding and colorfully garish illustration on the cover. As an aside, seeing as The Moonstone laid the groundwork for the entire detective genre if the Franklin Library hadn't included it it would have been a major oversight. Now the mystery becomes did I pick up that volume prior to one Sunday night when I was ensconced in my corner of the couch and watched a few minutes of The Moonstone with my mother or not? I remember sitting there so clearly, the warm light, the copy of The Moonstone on the shelf near my right shoulder. I'm pretty sure I didn't watch more than a few minutes of the movie because I was all about reading the book before watching the adaptation. At that time it was a strict rule in my life. But did I bend the rules? Later events might indicate I did... Maybe I'll claim that I was sleepwalking like Franklin Blake? Eventually I did pick up The Moonstone to read and the entire time I kept thinking, damn, have I read this before? I swear I've read this before... Or had I just watched the movie? This is compounded by the fact that when reading the book the character of the old house steward Gabriel Betteredge came into my mind as the incomparable Peter Vaughn. He was just there, in my head, and I accepted it as fact. Fast forward to me watching or perhaps re-watching the film and Peter Vaughn IS in it as Betteredge. Thinking of this which came first the chicken or the egg mystery just does my head it. But one thing is confirmed no matter what order events happened in, this is the best adaptation of The Moonstone you could hope to find. It's literally my headcanon.       

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Adaptation, Fifty Years a Masterpiece, Franklin Blake, Franklin Library, Gabriel Betteredge, Greg Wise, Headcanon, Keeley Hawes, Mystery, Peter Vaughn, Sleepwalking, The Moonstone, Wilkie Collins

The 7 1/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton
Published by: Sourcebooks Landmark
Publication Date: February 8th, 2018
Format: Paperback, 458 Pages
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy

Doctor Sebastian Bell loses all memory of who he is while in the woods with the name "Anna" dying on his lips. Soon he hears a reply calling for help and then the air is split by the sound of a gun being discharged. Not knowing who he is or where he is, he knows a crime has been committed and must find help. He stumbles for what seems hours until he finds a house. He is let inside and up to a room that is supposedly his. He finds an invitation addressed to a "Doctor Sebastian Bell" requesting his presence at Blackheath House for the return of Evelyn Hardcastle from Paris. So that is who he is, Doctor Sebastian Bell. He tries to compose himself while sloughing off the filth of the forest. While he knows he might not remember anything beyond this morning he knows a crime has been committed and he fears Anna is dead. He must solve this mystery no matter what obstacles are put in his path. And currently his path is blocked by someone dressed as a plague doctor. Someone who tries to convince him Anna isn't his concern. Someone who tries to tell him his only goal for the moment is to get the lay of the land. Yet his concern and curiosity is insatiable and he goes in search of Anna, finding a note from her that is oddly prescient and requesting a meeting later that night. Sebastian starts to not only fear for Anna's life but his own. Soon the prodigal daughter herself, Evelyn, is helping Sebastian in his search for Anna. It appears Blackheath House isn't a stranger to murder, Evelyn's own brother was killed years before down by the lake. Anna misses their appointed meeting, making Sebastian fear the worst, and when he returns to his room everything goes black. And then he wakes up again. And again. And again...

So, a fair amount of book reviews start with a little summery of the book, like this one here does. But whereas most reviewers are doing it to give you an overview of what to expect my reasoning is far different. I do it because it's me writing what I think the blurb on the back of the book should have been. So many book blurbs give an entirely erroneous description that I feel a need to fix it. Likewise so many book blurbs spoil important plot twists that I feel I have to shelter everyone from the spoilers. Unless I really hate the book than I'll probably spoil away. I remember a book review Nick Hornby wrote about Wilkie Collins's No Name and how under no circumstances should you read the blurb because it revealed a huge plot twist and royally pissed him off. No one wants their enjoyment spoiled by a reckless copywriter! While yes, the "original" blurb for this book is part of the reason I picked it up, I felt that it just gave too much away. In fact it's hard to write a review for this book because so much of what I loved, the twists and turns, I want you to experience and enjoy for yourself. This isn't a book to be passively consumed, you become a part of it, working out all the tiny details and trying to solve all the mysteries before the final curtain. I might have considered flow charts at one point, but decided that was taking it too far. But to find a book that you actively want to be a part of, that you can't wait to pick up again, to dig into the story, that is a blessing. This book just doesn't take you away, it asks you to come along for the ride of a lifetime, part Agatha Christie, part Quantum Leap, and totally mind melting. PS, Stuart Turton is a total Quantum Leap geek whereas I'm still pissed at the show's ending.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Agatha Christie, Blackheath House, Blurb, Copy Writer, Geek, Golden Age Mystery, Nick Hornby, No Name, Plague Doctor, Quantum Leap, Spoilers, Stuart Turton, The 7 1/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle, Wilkie Collins

That Silent Night by Tasha Alexander
Published by: Minotaur Books
Publication Date: October 20th, 2015
Format: Kindle, 63 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
To Buy

Colin and Emily have fled to town to run a few last minute Christmas errands and to avoid their neighbors. It's not that they haven't enjoyed the festivities at Montague Manor, though Colin did refer to them as The Festival of Horror, there just comes a time when enough is enough. For Colin that point was reached at the proposed daylong charades tournament that would include the entire population of a neighboring village. Therefore they are ensconced in their Park Lane house while the snow blankets the city ignorant to the fact that a different set of neighbors is about to cause them a bit of a bother. While Colin finishes some work for the Palace Emily finishes a chapter in the newest Elizabeth Mary Braddon book and looks out the library window to see the most astonishing sight. A woman has appeared out of nowhere and all the warmth of Emily's cozy library has vanished. The woman's clothes are out of date but more disturbingly she had no coat. On such a cold night Emily knew she must help and rushed out into the swirling snow to find no trace of the woman. Not even a footprint. Colin claims that this is what happens from reading sensationalist literature but Emily is convinced otherwise. The next morning their new neighbors, the newly wed Leightons, ask if they can borrow some coal as the delivery vehicles can not come through. Emily and Colin gladly offer up the coal as well as an invitation to dinner. Mrs. Leighton shares a strong resemblance to the lady Emily saw in the street, but tries to brush it off. But when she finds out the young newlyweds have returned from Switzerland where Penelope was taking a cure for her nerves... could it be the young bride is connected to the disturbing sight that Emily saw? And can Emily help her before Penelope is beyond hope and committed?

As I sat down to read That Silent Night there was a bite in the air and the first hint of snow was forecast. In other words, I had circumstances align perfectly to read this tale. Unlike Tasha's previous holiday offering, Star of the East, which went for the more Agatha Christie tradition of all the suspects snowbound in a manor house, here she went for the more ghostly Christmas narrative. Because while Dickens popularized and in some ways standardized this tradition of ghostly tales told around the fire with A Christmas Carol, he didn't start this tradition which goes all the way back to Shakespeare. Just think of some of the most famous ghost stories of all from The Turn of the Screw to The Woman in Black. These stories are framed by people sitting around a fire and trying to scare each other with tales of the otherworldly and supernatural while Christmas Day draws ever nearer. In fact an article that resurfaced this past weekend from last year, "A Plea to Resurrect the Christmas Tradition of Telling Ghostly Tales," is something I couldn't agree with more after reading That Silent Night. Tasha taps into this tradition and delivers what I easily believe to be a true holiday classic deserving to be read on Christmas Eve that while a part of the overall series can easily be read by anyone unfamiliar with the exploits of Emily and her husband Colin. Over the course of her two Christmas novellas Tasha has written almost pastiches of Wilkie Collins's work, moving from The Moonstone to The Woman in White. But it's the atmosphere of Collins's The Woman in White that makes it a perfect augmentation to this tale. There's more ambiguity, more mystery, and definitely a supernatural bent. That in fact is why I love this tale so much. Tasha doesn't discount the supernatural. She leaves us with ambiguity.

Yet with all the Wilkie of this story in the end it comes down to the Dickens of it all. Not just because Colin is bemoaning Dickens and the pestilential carolers but because That Silent Night couples the ghostly Christmas tale with a social conscience. Dickens strongly believed in showing us the worst of humanity not just to make us feel better but in order to educate us so that we can help others. Christmas might be a time for spooky stories but it is also a time for giving. And not just giving thanks. Emily's social conscience has evolved over the course of the series with many worthy causes being taken up, from suffrage to the plight of the factory worker to female education reform to name a few. Here we see a world of suffering most strongly connected to Dickens, that of orphanages. Through the course of Emily and Colin's investigations into Penelope's past and the ghostly form appearing in Park Lane they end up at an orphanage that Emily says is bleaker than even Dickens could write. The reality of what an orphanage is like, especially during the Victorian era, is terrifying. While the man in charge of running the establishment admits it lacks a certain warmth and holiday cheer he says the sad truth, that at least it's better for the kids than being out on the streets. But it also shows how easy it was for someone to fall through the cracks. In the 1800s, in fact any time before people's identities were so closely monitored and enforced through identification cards and passports and online profiles, you could literally just disappear. You could be lost to this other world of poverty and despair. But in true Dickensian spirit, while we might wallow in misery for a short time, in the end we get our happily ever after. It wouldn't be Christmas if the cockles of our hearts weren't warmed in the end.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Christmas Carol, Alexander Autumn, Charles Dickens, Christmas, Ghost Stories, Social Conscience, Star of the East, Tasha Alexander, The Moonstone, The Silent Night, The Woman in White, Wilkie Collins

That Silent Night by Tasha Alexander
Published by: Minotaur Books
Publication Date: October 20th, 2015
Format: Kindle, 63 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
To Buy

Colin and Emily have fled to town to run a few last minute Christmas errands and to avoid their neighbors. It's not that they haven't enjoyed the festivities at Montague Manor, though Colin did refer to them as The Festival of Horror, there just comes a time when enough is enough. For Colin that point was reached at the proposed daylong charades tournament that would include the entire population of a neighboring village. Therefore they are ensconced in their Park Lane house while the snow blankets the city ignorant to the fact that a different set of neighbors is about to cause them a bit of a bother. While Colin finishes some work for the Palace Emily finishes a chapter in the newest Elizabeth Mary Braddon book and looks out the library window to see the most astonishing sight. A woman has appeared out of nowhere and all the warmth of Emily's cozy library has vanished. The woman's clothes are out of date but more disturbingly she had no coat. On such a cold night Emily knew she must help and rushed out into the swirling snow to find no trace of the woman. Not even a footprint. Colin claims that this is what happens from reading sensationalist literature but Emily is convinced otherwise. The next morning their new neighbors, the newly wed Leightons, ask if they can borrow some coal as the delivery vehicles can not come through. Emily and Colin gladly offer up the coal as well as an invitation to dinner. Mrs. Leighton shares a strong resemblance to the lady Emily saw in the street, but tries to brush it off. But when she finds out the young newlyweds have returned from Switzerland where Penelope was taking a cure for her nerves... could it be the young bride is connected to the disturbing sight that Emily saw? And can Emily help her before Penelope is beyond hope and committed?

As I sat down to read That Silent Night there was a bite in the air and the first hint of snow was forecast. In other words, I had circumstances align perfectly to read this tale. Unlike Tasha's previous holiday offering, Star of the East, which went for the more Agatha Christie tradition of all the suspects snowbound in a manor house, here she went for the more ghostly Christmas narrative. Because while Dickens popularized and in some ways standardized this tradition of ghostly tales told around the fire with A Christmas Carol, he didn't start this tradition which goes all the way back to Shakespeare. Just think of some of the most famous ghost stories of all from The Turn of the Screw to The Woman in Black. These stories are framed by people sitting around a fire and trying to scare each other with tales of the otherworldly and supernatural while Christmas Day draws ever nearer. In fact an article that resurfaced this past weekend from last year, "A Plea to Resurrect the Christmas Tradition of Telling Ghostly Tales," is something I couldn't agree with more after reading That Silent Night. Tasha taps into this tradition and delivers what I easily believe to be a true holiday classic deserving to be read on Christmas Eve that while a part of the overall series can easily be read by anyone unfamiliar with the exploits of Emily and her husband Colin. Over the course of her two Christmas novellas Tasha has written almost pastiches of Wilkie Collins's work, moving from The Moonstone to The Woman in White. But it's the atmosphere of Collins's The Woman in White that makes it a perfect augmentation to this tale. There's more ambiguity, more mystery, and definitely a supernatural bent. That in fact is why I love this tale so much. Tasha doesn't discount the supernatural. She leaves us with ambiguity.

Yet with all the Wilkie of this story in the end it comes down to the Dickens of it all. Not just because Colin is bemoaning Dickens and the pestilential carolers but because That Silent Night couples the ghostly Christmas tale with a social conscience. Dickens strongly believed in showing us the worst of humanity not just to make us feel better but in order to educate us so that we can help others. Christmas might be a time for spooky stories but it is also a time for giving. And not just giving thanks. Emily's social conscience has evolved over the course of the series with many worthy causes being taken up, from suffrage to the plight of the factory worker to female education reform to name a few. Here we see a world of suffering most strongly connected to Dickens, that of orphanages. Through the course of Emily and Colin's investigations into Penelope's past and the ghostly form appearing in Park Lane they end up at an orphanage that Emily says is bleaker than even Dickens could write. The reality of what an orphanage is like, especially during the Victorian era, is terrifying. While the man in charge of running the establishment admits it lacks a certain warmth and holiday cheer he says the sad truth, that at least it's better for the kids than being out on the streets. But it also shows how easy it was for someone to fall through the cracks. In the 1800s, in fact any time before people's identities were so closely monitored and enforced through identification cards and passports and online profiles, you could literally just disappear. You could be lost to this other world of poverty and despair. But in true Dickensian spirit, while we might wallow in misery for a short time, in the end we get our happily ever after. It wouldn't be Christmas if the cockles of our hearts weren't warmed in the end.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Christmas Carol, Alexander Autumn, Charles Dickens, Christmas, Ghost Stories, Social Conscience, Star of the East, Tasha Alexander, The Moonstone, The Silent Night, The Woman in White, Wilkie Collins

Star of the East by Tasha Alexander
Published by: Macmillan
Publication Date: October 28th, 2014
Format: Kindle, 65 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
To Buy

Emily prefers to avoid her mother as much as possible. As the holidays near her and Colin are of a mind to stay as far away from Kent and Darnley House as possible. Only this time Countess Catherine Bromley’s invitation is backed by the weight of the Queen who has requested Colin to go and that causes Colin concern. Emily's mother is hosting the Maharaja Ala Kapur Singh and his family. The maharaja was recently awarded the Order of the Star of India from Queen Victoria and will be spending Christmas itself with the Queen at Osborne House. So why would the Queen want Colin at Darnley House? Emily and Colin dutifully pack themselves and all three of their boys off to Kent. The house party, despite being a lavish affair with Christmas trees in every room and a feast the Countess views as worthy of the subcontinent, is rather small, being made up of the maharaja, his maharani Parsan, his two children, 18 year old marriage obsessed Sunita, and Oxford student Ranjit who brings his best friend Ned, and a few select neighbors. Everything seems to be perfect, even the fresh blanket of snow outside. Though that night the valuable, and cursed, diamond maang tika, the Star of the East, and it's companion golden bangle engraved with words of a spell of protection is taken from Sunita's room. Could the Queen have predicted this and sent Colin to avoid a scandal? Or is there another reason he and Emily were needed at Darnley House?

Tasha knows how to spin the perfect Christmas yarn for the anglophile in us all. A missing jewel, a narrow suspect pool, and all the possible culprits gathered around a Christmas tree in the proper drawing room waiting for Emily to do her version of the Agatha Christie denouement. But it's that cursed jewel that really has my heart going pitter-patter. Tasha has always included literature and authors of the day in Emily's stories, from Mary Elizabeth Braddon to Charles Dickens. In fact I've always felt that her work holds a bit of a debt to a friend of Dickens, Wilkie Collins, especially in Emily's second adventure, A Poisoned Season. Therefore to have Tasha do a full out homage to Collins's The Moonstone while also bringing back my favorite thief introduced in Emily's second adventure, Sebastian Capet, I couldn't have been happier. Though it's not just the fascinating story of how the Star or the East was cursed and then made wearable by it's companion bangle alone that made me so happy while simultaneously giving me a chill down my spin. Oh no, I have always had a love of India. I don't know it this is an offshoot of me being such an anglophile, but there's something about India that has always drawn me in. Therefore seeing the maharaja's family talking about their culture and heritage while set in a very traditional British tale made me happier than I could have thought. But isn't Christmas all about happiness?

Well, we hope Christmas is all about happiness, usually it's about familial guilt trips and bad memories. While Emily's struggles with her mother have been a continuing theme throughout this series I think that Star of the East, being set at her family's estate, gives us much more insight in one go then we've been able to string together over the course of the previous nine volumes. The story about how when her mother learned of Emily's terror of the "Chinese" bedroom that she vowed that Emily would be placed there once out of the nursery shows how controlling the Countess is. That she would be willing to scar a child to make them stronger makes me shudder. Luckily for Emily she had her father on hand, who is the Mr. Bennet of the lot. He was able, through the clever placement of his mother in the Chinese bedroom, to help Emily without incurring too much of his wife's wrath. You can see why Emily clings to the love and life she has formed with Colin. The joy her children give her, even Henry who is a bit of a troublemaker, is wonderful. She has created the life and family she wanted despite her upbringing. Contrasting Emily's past with Sunita's future is almost heartbreaking. For Emily to see a family, one who is very traditional, willing to embrace their daughter and her dreams once they realize how much it matters? Well, it's wonderful for Sunita, and more than a little sad for Emily.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Poisoned Season, Alexander Autumn, Charles Dickens, Christmas, Cursed Gem, Family, India, Kindle, Mary Elizabeth Braddon, Parents, Queen Victoria, Star of the East, Tasha Alexander, The Moonstone, Wilkie Collins

A Poisoned Season: Lady Emily Book 2 by Tasha Alexander
Published by: Harper
Publication Date: 2007
Format: Paperback, 352 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
To Buy

Lady Emily has come to love her life, especially her life in Greece. Still, she must be a "proper" lady, so she has returned to England to take part in The Season. The endless parties and social gatherings. All the things a woman can and can not do. So what if she wants to read in public and drink port in private? She should be allowed to do as she wants! Being a widow has to have some advantages in eccentricity. Thankfully Cecile du Lac arrives from Paris to relieve the ennui. But Cecile soon becomes prey to the cat burglar who is sneaking in and out of the homes of the wealthy reclaiming jewels that where once Marie Antoinette's! The whole of the ton has gone French crazy. Especially with the arrival of Charles Berry. Berry claims to be the heir to the French throne and is more than happy to have Emily grace his bedchamber, even if he intends to marry one of Emily's acquaintances because Emily isn't queen material. Could this cad be sneaking into bedchambers for an entirely different reason? Could this creature of lust who tends to lash out be a cunning thief?

Though theft is much different from murder... A David Francis has been murdered and his wife's maid has been arrested. Mrs. Francis is convinced her maid is innocent and looks to Emily for help. Emily is excited for the challenge, but her erstwhile suitor Colin Hargreaves is worried that she might be in over her head and perhaps they should just get engaged. Yet an engagement to Colin might curtail Emily's independence. All Emily knows is that an engagement, to Colin or her old friend Jeremy who has entered the marriage market would make her mother ecstatic, so it's the last thing she wants to do. Plus there are the mysterious notes in Greek and flowers she's been receiving on her pillow to take into consideration as well. Is this Colin's more seductive side? Or does she have an overzealous suitor who is verging into stalker territory. Could the cat burglar have fallen for her? With her own reputation looking perilous will Emily be cut from society before she solves the murder and thefts? And will she ever say yes to Colin?

In all seriousness I want to know who doesn't love a good thief plot? Coupling this with a lost heir air just added to my enjoyment. Ah, a daring jewel thief, a cat burglar by another name, I always have a soft spot for them. In fact I've kind of always wanted to be one. I have always thought it would be fun to be an art or jewel thief (note, if I'm ever caught, you never read this!) I always remember this one scene in a movie, which I think stared Jane Seymour, but I remember it was a very French looking house with skylights and a yellow carpeted staircase and a party downstairs and a man in black sneaking around, and I thought, what a glamorous life... yeah, I might have some issues or I might just not be living up to my full potential. Extra points if you know the movie I'm talking about, also, Jane Seymour might not have been in it and it might have been Robert Wagner, but it's definitely not the first Pink Panther movie. But the idea of a gentleman thief is so alluring. Let's call it the Raffles effect. This also led to overtones of Wilkie Collins's The Moonstone, what with the jewels of great value. Which, I will say, is deliciously Victorian.

Though we must not forget the lost heir plot! While I had a little disconnect with Bourbon fever happening in the Victorian era when aristos weren't being whisked across the channel for their safety, I can easily forgive that for the book containing some lost dauphin action. The missing heir to the French throne always fascinated me as a child, mainly because Wisconsin has it's own connection to the missing child. Eleazer Williams was a missionary who came to Wisconsin with a delegation of Native Americans and settled in Green Bay. In 1839 he started to claim he was the lost dauphin, which escalated in the 1850s until he was viewed as the pretender to the throne. My Dad grew up in the Fox River Valley and would tell us stories about the lost prince, but mainly he'd tell us stories about the treasure he had on him when he escaped. Treasure that was about as real as Eleazer's claim. But my dad had me convinced that this little cove near our house was possibly where he had dropped the treasure. I had even picked a rock out in Lake Mendota that I thought could possibly have the treasure underneath. Re-reading Tasha's book brought this all back to me, and it makes me smile and also kind of wish fairy tales were true and that that little prince didn't die in prison.

While thefts and pretenders are all wonderful fodder and make for an adventurous read, it's Emily and her feelings that I really connect to. Her joy and her despair and her outrage, I'm just ready to fight for her and any little slight or danger that comes her way. But I don't think this connection would be so strong if Tasha hadn't plotted Emily's journey as she did. We as readers needed to fall in love with Emily away from the world as she was sequestered during her mourning. We see her evolve into the woman she was destined to become and therefore we see how she struggles when she is thrust back into society. She is no longer what is expected of women of this time period, even the Queen wants her settled. In fact Emily's dear friend Ivy shows us what is expected of Victorian women and brings home how Ivy isn't happy being the perfect wife. Society was at this time designed for men and it hurt the women they were supposed to love. Gaw, the horrid double standard of it all. Yet to me this all hinges on the book starting at that garden party and having Tasha throw tons of new characters at us. For a few minutes you feel at sea, the sheer number of characters creates claustrophobia and in that moment you feel the elation and dread that Emily must feel going back into society and you are there with her in the Victorian age!

For Emily though there is an oasis in Colin. The first time I read these first two books I wasn't completely sold on Colin as Emily's love interest. I think it was because somehow I loved Emily's dead husband Philip more... and Colin was too perfect. A paragon, the dream man of literature. There's a reason I keep picturing him as Colin Firth after all... I was worried that Emily alone was better than Emily coupled, because historical romances do tend to marry their leads off too quickly and Emily loses so much by marrying again and I didn't want that to happen to her. And I think this is why I really appreciated Colin this time around. He knows what Emily would lose by marrying him and wills her his library. Something all her own as it comes crashing down on her that her current home and books actually belong to her husband's heir and not herself. But it's deeper than that, Philip loved Emily as an ideal. She was a paragon of beauty, he didn't really know her. Whereas Colin knows Emily for who she really is, a women who will never fit society's definition of a good wife, who is smart, witty, and willing to march into danger. Their relationship thrives because they love each other for who they are, books and all.

And as for those books... Tasha gets it. She just GETS IT! She understands the importance of books in one's life for mental well-being. When Ivy is depressed and on the brink of despair she puts a book in her hand, the more sensational the better! This is what I don't get about people who say they don't read or don't like to read, reading is my jam. It's how I maintain balance in my life. Meditation I don't get, but I understand that for some people what meditation gives them is what I get from reading. If I'm really grouchy or angry and every little thing is getting on my last nerve it's most likely because I haven't picked up a book in a few days. It restores my sanity. When life gets too harsh it's bliss to escape between the pages of a book and just go somewhere else. Though there is a down side in that if I'm reading a book and it's bad, it tends to also reflect in my mood. Because I just can not not finish a book! No matter how bad, how horrid, how aggravating, I will finish whatever book I have started. There has literally been only one exception I can think of in recent years. But even if I don't like a book the experience of reading a book is always pleasurable. In fact I'm starting to wonder why I'm still writing and not reading... Emily would recommend it after all!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Poisoned Season, Alexander Autumn, Books, Colin Firth, Jewel Thief, Lady Emily, Lost Dauphin, Marie Antoinette, Queen Victoria, Tasha Alexander, The Moonstone, Victorian, Wilkie Collins, Womens Rights

Fingersmith by Sarah Waters
Published by: Riverhead
Publication Date: October 1st, 2002
Format: Paperback, 548 Pages
Rating: ★★★
To Buy

Sue Trinder has grown up in Lant Street. She has never left this slummy Borough of London, and has never wanted to. She has lived her entire life in the care of Mrs. Sucksby, who makes her living farming babies. But Sue was the only baby that ever mattered to Mrs. Sucksby. They live with Mr. Ibbs, who makes his living in the roundabout manner of taking in dubious goods through the back door and sending it out the front in a slightly different "legitimate" form. The rest of the household is made up of Mr. Ibbs' invalid sister and John Vroom, a man with a love for dog skins, and his simple girl Dainty. This is Sue's world entire. And they are as dear to her as family. One day an acquaintance, known to all as Gentleman, arrives with a plan to make all their fortunes using Sue. Mrs. Sucksby has always told Sue that she would be the making of them all and now Sue has her chance.

Gentleman has been posing as an artist, a Mr. Rivers, for a Mr. Lilly, who lives out west in the Thames Valley. Mr. Lilly has a niece, Maud. Maud is where their fortune will be found. Gentleman has been seducing this isolated girl in hopes of getting at her fortune through marrying her but has hit a brick wall. Maud's maid, who was their chaperon, has taken ill and now Maud isn't allowed in the presence of Gentleman. Gentleman has decided to fix that. By installing not only a new chaperon, but one that will help him pursue his interests with Maud. With Sue on the inside it is a win win situation. They will compromise Maud, throw her in an insane asylum, and split her vast fortune and live like toffs. What could possibly go wrong? In a world where there are plots within plots, games within games, and you don't know who's playing who, there are a lot of ways this could play out... and perhaps it won't be to everyone's liking.

Fingersmith is an amazing book if you were to redact the final two-thirds of the book. Divided into three parts the second and third parts are repetitive. Waters showed us in that first-third what she was capable of, and if it had ended there this could have been a true classic. But instead she chose another course. Yet I wonder if this drawing out of the narrative wasn't purposeful. Yes, she could have had a tauter more compact story, but that would defeat the Victorian aspect. I think being overly long and taking the narrative straight into "I don't care land" is a staple of true Victorian writing, or Victorian-esque in this case. Like Wilkie Collins's The Woman in White, which Fingersmith strongly emulates, it overstays it's welcome by several sections. Looking back onto the other Waters book I've read, The Little Stranger, I realize now that that book really did have the perfect ending. You weren't sure what happened and it ended a bit mysteriously. If Waters had done that with this book, ending on a cliffhanger and being all mysterious, I would have been blown away and ranked it up there with some of the finest short fiction with the likes of Shirley Jackson. Instead she went the route of Wilkie Collins, and you can't really blame her for that.

Yet I can blame her for the repetitive nature of the storytelling. The Woman in White might have overstayed it's welcome but it was always moving forward. By having two different narrators with Sue and Maud, we see the exact same events at least twice. With the second section with Maud narrating I was almost skipping pages going, OK, I've already read this all from Sue's point of view, let's get to the part where we left off with Sue so that I get to the forward progression of the narration. Though once we move forward, back to Sue, we go back to the ending of part one! We have learned so much from Maud that it is painful to then have to live through Sue's excruciatingly slow journey to see Sue learn all that we already know. One step forward, two steps back. That cliffhanger to end part one... it will blow you away. Yet it is soon nullified and made pointless by all the other twists and turns and cliffhangers that come after it. The impact is lost in the dragging narrative. It got to the point where it was like watching M. Night Shyamalan's The Village, I kept not only waiting for the next not really shocking twist, but I got good at predicting what it would be, and in the end you really didn't care. So, by all means, read this book, just don't read past part one.

Though this book can't be discounted just for falling prey to the tropes Waters is emulating. She does an amazing job of capturing the seamy side of Victorian London. Sometimes you're reading about other times and think, now that would be a nice place to visit. Not here, not this world. And I think that's what makes the world of the book so real. You feel as if this is probably the most accurate depiction you've ever read of this time period. It's filthy and dirty, it's creaking corset stays on a large woman who never washes herself and the secrets she hides within her bodice. Maud's penchant for gloves, though not of her own doing, at least is some kind of barrier to the grotesques that are discussed. But even they are tainted. Yet it's the unrelenting depravity and filth combined with characters who you don't just dislike, but who have nothing good or nice ever happen to them that wears you down in the end. Sure a little history of Victorian pornography is well and good, but after awhile, you say enough is enough. This book grinds you down, and in the end, you are relieved that it is done.

The secret of Mr. Lilly and his pornography collection builds on this seamy underbelly that Waters has exposed. The Victorian London she is depicting isn't the one we really see in the literature of the day. While Victorians were far more into sex, sensationalism, and penny dreadfuls than popular authors of the day were willing to depict, it is still a little taboo. Over time the image that has arisen in popular culture is of the Victorians being a very prudish lot. They never talked about sex and didn't even know quite how one went about it, like the old Pete and Dud sketch where children are conceived through sitting on warm chairs and the eating of good meals. The last few years at the steampunk convention I go to I have attended a panel on the "Forbidden Image." Which is a "selection of erotic images from the Victorian era and classical images known to the Victorians ... but forbidden by polite society!" The images, ones that would no doubt be in Mr. Lilly's collection, show that these things did indeed exist. Any new technology soon goes to sex, just look at the internet. So is it any wonder that as soon as there was photography there was pornography? Fingersmith doesn't just depict Victorian England as we know it, but as it actually was.

Which leads to Sue and Maud. This book is perhaps most famous because it continues in Waters tradition of depicting lesbianism in different eras. Sapphic love has been around as long as there have been humans, but outside of pornography, it wouldn't have been openly discussed in Victorian times, despite it existing. Here Waters is breaking down another door, going all out with what would be a taboo subject and making it believable and compelling. For all the repetition and all the tropes she falls victim to in her writing of Fingersmith, there is the other side of the coin. All that she does right. A more accurate depiction of the times, relationships that are real, making us readers see that this world of times gone by was just as real as the "now." I also defy anyone to not find Sue and Maud's sex scene quite steamy. With their bodies connecting it makes us feel for them, and no, not in THAT way. It's a scene that makes them both so vibrant and alive that even if you hadn't found some connection to the characters, this one moment will make them real for you. Because more than anything, that is what this book does, make Victorian England real. 

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Backlog Bonanza, England, Fingersmith, Lesbian, M. Night Shyamalan, Pete and Dud, Peter Cook, Pornography, Sarah Waters, The Little Stranger, The Village, The Woman in White, Victorian, Wilkie Collins

Mr. Holmes
Based on the book by Mitch Cullin
Release Date: July 17th, 2015
Starring: Ian McKellen, Laura Linney, Milo Parker, Hattie Morahan, Roger Allam, Phil Davis, Patrick Kennedy, Hiroyuki Sanada, Frances de la Tour, John Sessions, Francis Barber, and Nicholas Rowe
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy

Sherlock Holmes is returning to his home in the Sussex Downs after visiting Japan. After the death of his brother Mycroft he realized that his powers of recollection were waning. He couldn't for the life of him remember his last case. The case was thirty-five years ago and involved the wife of a Mr. Kelmot and was the catalyst to his leaving his profession and moving to Sussex. Of course Watson wrote it up, as he did all Holmes's cases, but he changed it, made Holmes the hero and tacked on a happy ending in that infuriating way of his. Before he dies Holmes wants to write down the story as it happened. Truth not fiction. But he can't find the truth. He can't recollect it. Which was the reason for his recent trip to Japan. He had been in correspondence with a Masuo Umezaki who had read Holmes's treatise on the use of Royal Jelly as a memory aid and told Holmes how the jelly of the prickly ash plant that is found only in Japan is supposedly even better. Holmes and Umezaki journey to Hiroshima, where among the devastation wrought by the recent war, they amazingly find a prickly ash plant that Holmes takes with him back to England. During his absence his housekeeper's son Roger snuck into his study and read the preliminaries of Holmes's story about Mrs. Kelmot and wants Holmes to finish the story. As Holmes struggles to recall his reasons for leaving his profession an unlikely friendship develops between him and Roger and the care of Holmes's bees. But can a ninety-three year old man get back his past and change what is left of his future?

To be one of the actors with enough skill to play Sherlock Holmes you enter a rarefied category. Because, for most, you will forever be known for that role, but you will also be harshly judged. Jeremy Brett, Benedict Cumberbatch, Johnny Lee Miller, and Basil Rathbone are linked inextricably with Holmes. They have become one with Holmes and will never separate fully from this legacy. But there are other actors, those who have made a name for themselves prior to donning the deerstalker as it were; Michael Caine, Robert Downey Jr., and Rupert Everett, like McKellen, were known entities. They all successfully became Holmes to some extent, but have maintained their own identity. It is to this secondary category that McKellen belongs. One wonders at McKellen so easily taking up this signature role. For countless people McKellen is Gandalf from Tolkien's works, and for countless others he is Magneto from the Marvel comics. In other words, McKellen has never shied away from playing iconic roles. But one gets the feeling that he is tired of doing this. And yet... he became Sherlock Holmes. It is my belief that he did this because he is the only actor with the ability to realize this character as he was written here. Of all the actors who have played Holmes, McKellen is a virtuoso, wherein you never see him as himself, he is Holmes. But he doesn't just capture one Holmes, he captures two distinct iterations of the icon at two different stages of his life. He takes the character we have always known, built on it, aged it, and given it back to us in a way that is sure to get him his first Academy Award win.

The more you think on Mr. Holmes the more you realize it isn't just a movie simply about the man who solved unsolvable mysteries. The heart of the film is darker, melancholy without falling into the trap of being morose and unbearably sad. Sherlock Holmes has been a man who relied his entire life on his mind to never fail him. His mind palace, as it were, was inviolable. But as we age, our memory, our ability to recollect starts to fail. This is happening to Holmes. He is unable to remember his last case, the case that defined his life as it has become. Most people balance the life of the mind with emotions and love and heart. Relationships that are more than just business. But what happens when the mind starts to go and you have never had heart? There is no corresponding emotions to bring recollections to the light of day. And this all ties into Holmes's last case. He perfectly understood Mrs. Ann Kelmot. He analyzed her and made her secrets bare. But he lacked empathy. He could see everything but he couldn't see that even if someone is fully aware of their situation that sometimes that isn't enough. Sometimes a heart is permanently broken and the knowledge of this can never put it back together. Holmes failed Mrs. Kelmot and therefore failed himself, leading to his new bucolic life. By going back into his past, by trying to remember this case as he forges his relationship with his housekeeper Mrs. Munro and her young son Roger, Holmes is given a lesson in empathy. He finally understands not just the mystery of Mrs. Kelmot, but what he has been missing his entire life and that people sometimes need a little compassion, a little fiction to survive.

I find it interesting that over the years an aging Holmes has really captured the imagination of Sherlockians. This idea that Holmes, the ever unchanging pillar of logic, would somehow change in old age. That there is something, some event, that would somehow make him more human, more relatable. The cold analytical man is what countless generations of readers have latched onto, but in works like Chabon's The Final Solution and the inspiration for this movie, A Slight Trick of the Mind, they humanize him. While I really enjoyed this movie there's a part of me that knows it's just a "what if?" This would never be Holmes, this is an idealized hypothesis of what could, what might have happened with a fictional character. But it's an enjoyable idyl. Never to be taken too seriously, but to be enjoyed nonetheless. One wonders what Conan Doyle would think. He puts in a passing reference in one of his last Holmes stories that he is raising bees, and now that's written in stone as the only thing that Holmes may do in his old age. What would Holmes's creator think of this obsession with this one detail? With this need to humanize his legend. Holmes was never human, he came back from the dead after all! And those bees sure have stuck. Thanks to Conan Doyle and Wilkie Collins detectives can only raise bees or cultivate roses in their retirement. I personally think this is a bit boring and narrow.

One of the main reasons I was excited to see this film was because of Nicholas Rowe. He is my childhood (and current) crush from playing the starring role in The Young Sherlock Holmes. The fact that he was playing Matinee 'Sherlock' in a movie version of Holmes's last case as presented within the movie made me giddy. The fact is this film is acutely aware of the history of Holmes, not just the literary works, but also all the adaptations, as well as Conan Doyle's life itself, raised it to a special place for fans of Holmes and the meta universe he now resides in. Phil Davis, the killer cabbie of Sherlock makes an ironic appearance as a Police Inspector as well. But these casting choices are just the tip of the iceberg. What really drew me into the story and therefore the mystery was the glass harmonica and it's obvious spiritual connections. The haunting music alone coupled with Mrs. Kelmot's talking to her dead children where enough to convey the spiritualism aspect of the musical instrument, long before Holmes pointed it out. Mesmer himself even played this instrument. Spiritualism was the overriding obsession of Conan Doyle's later years. He lost friends, including Harry Houdini, because of his beliefs. Within the framework of Mr. Holmes it not only adds this meta layer, but it provides an ingenious red herring that gives the film the depth that makes you continually invested, even when it's obvious what the outcome of the case will be.

To bring this review back around to where I started, we are back once more with Ian McKellen. McKellen has reached an age where he doesn't need to work for money anymore, he does what he likes when he likes with who he likes. This can be both a boon and a burden for the audience, he has many fabulous friends who are actors. For example, take his recent foray into television with Vicious, a show clearly made to hang out with Derek Jacobi and Frances de la Tour. This Are You Being Served? throwback is tasteless and camp, in all the wrong ways. France de la Tour makes an odd appearance in Mr. Holmes as the glass harmonica instructor, Madame Schirmer. She once again proves that she can only act so far over the top that she almost derails the film with just a few lines. But the true fault of the film is Laura Linney, who would NEVER have been cast if not for her friendship with McKellen. I have no doubt that she is a nice person and she has always been an amazing advocate for LGBTQ rights for years, hence her friendship with McKellen. But she is just woefully miscast. I will admit that I have never liked her, but I was willing to be open-minded here. And the only saving grace is that she didn't have too many lines. Those lines she did have were in a dialect that appears nowhere on this earth. I think she might have been trying to do Welsh... but why they didn't just cast someone Welsh is down to Ian McKellen. He's a superb actor, and while he might know a lot of superb actors, he sometimes should know when to reign in on the nepotism.  

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Slight Trick of the Mind, Arthur Conan Doyle, Bees, Empathy, Ian McKellen, Meta, Mr. Holmes, Nepotism, Nicholas Rowe, Sherlock Holmes, Sherlocked, The Final Solution, The Young Sherlock Holmes, Wilkie Collins

The Sign of the Four by Arthur Conan Doyle
Published by: Book-of-the-Month Club
Publication Date: 1890
Format: Hardcover, 125 Pages
Rating: ★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Miss Mary Morstan comes to Sherlock Holmes asking him to help her solve two mysteries in her life, that may or may not be related. The first is the disappearance of her father, Captain Arthur Morstan, ten years previously, the second is that four years after her father's death she answered a newspaper ad as to her whereabouts and started receiving a pearl a year, only this year was different, there was a note with the pearl saying that she had been wronged and asking for a meeting. The only item Mary has that might be of relevance is a map that was hidden in her father's desk with four men's names on it. Holmes immediately takes the case and finds that the pearls started arriving shortly after the death of Captain Arthur Morstan's friend and comrade in arms, Major Sholto. In fact the anonymous benefactor of Mary Morstan is one of Major Sholto's sons, Thaddeus. He tells Mary about a great treasure their fathers had brought back from India. A treasure that has been hidden all these many years until Thaddeus's brother Bartholomew found it the day he sent Mary the note. They arrive to find Bartholomew dead via a dart in the neck with a menacing note next to his body, just like the one found years earlier on Major Sholto, "The Sign of Four." Holmes quickly realizes the crime was committed by a man with one wooden leg and a rather small accomplice. They should be unique enough that finding them shouldn't be a problem, just a matter of waiting. Yet all the while Thaddeus is held in custody for his brother's murder and Watson is finding it hard to concentrate when he is bewitched by the lovely Miss Morstan. Yet with Holmes on the case, the truth will out.

The Sign of Four, or more accurately, The Sign of the Four because you learn something new everyday, is perhaps the Sherlock Holmes story I know the best out of all the stories. I remember when the adaptation with Jeremy Brett first aired in the late eighties. It was the first feature length special for the series and therefore a big to-do. Every one of the eventual five feature length adaptations would be a special occasion in my house growing up, in particular The Last Vampyre because of Roy Marsden, but you never forget the first one. I even remember that we bought it on tape. Whenever we needed a mystery to watch, into the VCR The Sign of Four would go. It didn't hurt that Watson was now played by Edward Hardwicke, I was never the fan of David Burke that my mom was. The problem going into the book is I knew this story backwards and forwards. I knew all the little twists and shocking revelations. I tried my hardest to look at this story with new eyes, but I just couldn't. All I could see was Tonga's evil face on the stern of the ship as it disappeared into the dark and foggy Thames. Not being caught up in the mystery, lots of little things started to annoy me to no end and while the story is interesting, I'd heard it all before and therefore it had the feeling of a story you've heard so many times it's worn out it's welcome.

What really bothered me was how florid the writing of Watson is. Right now I'm totally coming down on the side of Sherlock who doesn't quite approve of the way that Watson writes, making it all romantic with a heavy heaping of nostalgia. Some of the romanticism is permitted in this instance as this is when Watson meets his future wife, Mary Morstan, but overall I'm siding with Holmes. This writing style just makes a mystery you're reading for the crime solving techniques of Holmes overwritten, to the point where Watson is almost obfuscating the deductive powers of his partner. But that is nothing to his sycophantic ways. Ugh. You can see where the whole "couple" theory emerged with Watson and Holmes, Watson totally wants to get a room with Holmes. If they were in high school he'd totally ask to carry his books, and maybe go steady. Yes, I know bromances have changed over the past hundred and twenty-five years, but there's admiration and there's adulation, and Watson is very much of the later. Holmes, you're so wonderful, only you could think of that, I would never have seen that in a million billion years, you are the smartest person that will ever exist, ever. Ugh. What's worse is the police getting in on this action. While Watson may be exaggerating the police's love, they do admire him to such an inconceivable degree that they're willing to break procedure for him. Holmes, you want the suspect brought to your house prior to going to prison so you can interrogate him? Sure, why not, anything for you Holmes. Ugh.

I wonder if there's some magical aura about Holmes that just makes everyone his to command. How else does he get the criminals to willingly tell all? It's such a cliched trope. Now Mr. Bond, while it looks like there's no way out for you I will detail all my plans so that when you escape the inescapable you will be able to thwart me. Sigh. This is the second Holmes story and also the second time the criminal comes clean. About everything. In A Study in Scarlet you can kind of get Jefferson Hope confessing all because he's about to die. Also, you could state that Jonathan Small confessed because he wasn't actually a killer, he was an unwitting accomplice to that crime, but still... it's too convenient. The only real purpose I can see to have these villains unburden themselves is that by having them tell everything they are corroborating Holmes's deductions. Because, without corroborating evidence, Holmes's hypothesises seem wildly absurd and almost complete shots in the dark that somehow find their target. It just is all too pat. Like the more cliched of Agatha Christie denouements when Poirot rounds everyone up in the library and states everything he knows and unmasks the villain. Sure, I could give it slack because it's fiction, but I won't. Fiction is better than reality and therefore has it's own set of rules and convenient tropes should be beneath Arthur Conan Doyle.

There is one thing I would like to ponder in a more generalized way, and that's lost treasure from India and the peril that befalls the criminals. In mysteries it comes across to readers that India is a continent awash with missing jewels and loot, all with guardians or some sort of curse. I don't know if I could actually remember every book and movie that has this trope but The Moonstone, The Ruby in the Smoke, and even The Pink Panther, all have this in common. And in each and every instance, something befalls those who removed the jewels from their rightful place. Seriously, how does one continent have so many jewels? Is this the real reason that Britain wanted to maintain control over India, because they thought it was awash with loot ripe for the picking? Yes, there's a romanticism associated with India and there's a mysticism with the culture that imbues magic to their jewels, even Indiana Jones fell prey to this; but after awhile, it's like, how many more stories will I have to read like this? How many times will it play out in the same way? Because the truth of the matter is The Moonstone and Wilkie Collins set the tone and the stage for this trope, and I don't think anyone will ever reach that level of perfection again. The Moonstone predates The Sign of the Four by over twenty years, and the later can not help but be compared to the former and found lacking. Sherlock Holmes may be a master of deduction, but in a story where every one is a pale imitator of the original, he had no chance to succeed.

Though for everything that got under my skin there was one thing this book did SO RIGHT and that's blow darts. Seriously, I think this is one of the coolest murder weapons out there, and ironically my love and reverence for them started with Sherlock Holmes, only Sherlock Holmes the younger. In the Young Sherlock Holmes the evil villain's sister uses a blow dart as her weapon of choice, and also shows what I fear most about them, them being used against you, when Sherlock blows in the out and kills the killer. So, they aren't a perfect weapon, seeing as they can be used against you, but at the same time, there's something so amusing about someone blowing through a tube and someone falling down dead or incapacitated that makes me giddy. If you doubt the humor value of blow darts instead focusing on the horror, I implore you to watch the Red Dwarf season seven episode "Beyond a Joke." In the episode there is a virtual reality game of Pride and Prejudice. The character of Kryten is annoyed that the rest of his shipmates have decided to play the game versus eat the lovely dinner he has prepared for them. Therefore he enters the game and eliminates each and every Bennet sister in a unique manner. Kitty is the victim of a blow dart. This one scene is perhaps my favorite and easily the funniest in one of my favorite series ever. So let's bring back blow darts shall we?

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 2 comments  

Labels: A Study in Scarlet, Arthur Conan Doyle, Blow Darts, Bromance, India, Jeremy Brett, John Watson, Pride and Prejudice, Red Dwarf, Sherlock Holmes, Sherlocked, The Moonstone, The Sign of the Four, Wilkie Collins

The Casebook of Newbury and Hobbes Volume One by George Mann
Published by: Titan Books
Publication Date: October 22nd, 2013
Format: Paperback, 400 Pages
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy

From disappearing valets to monstrosities lurking in the shadows of Cheyne Walk, creatures from the deep to lost Indian jewels, become an armchair detective with the best from Sir Maurice Newbury to the Doctor John Watson. And every great detective has to have his or her Moriarty. We learn more about Sir Maurice's adversary, Lady Arkwell, as well as Veronica Hobbes's "chess" partner with whom she has had several contretemps, Zenith the Albino. Whether you are returning to the world of Newbury and Hobbes or just stopping in for your first visit, this collection of stories will chill your spine and leave you wanting to read just one more story before your bedtime. That is if you can sleep once you find out the secret of "What Lies Beneath."

I have said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again, books with short stories are always a risk. There's the whole consistency issue as well as flow. I can guarantee that you will spend more time thinking about that one story that wasn't up to scratch then you do all the other ones that were great. But more importantly is the flow of the book. Because each story is so different and starts a new narrative there's sometime not the impetus to keep going to the end, especially if you hit one of those weaker stories. Luckily The Casebook of Newbury and Hobbes is the exception that proves the rule full of unique individual stories within a connected world.

The Newbury and Hobbes series has always lent itself to comparisons with Sherlock Holmes, and rightfully so in my mind. Therefore, like Conan Doyle's writing, it lends itself to the short story format. In fact sometimes the longer Newbury and Hobbes books have too much going on and these little stories are a nice way to have a short and sweet little tale that isn't bogged down by the overarching narrative but still gives you nudges and winks as to the universe they inhabit.

What sets this above other compendiums though is that we are given insight into George's process. At the back of the book there is a timeline of events (very handy), but more importantly little story notes in which George talks about why he wrote the story or what drove his decisions. It gives you a feeling that at the end of perusing this volume, like Newbury and Bainbridge, you have sat down on opposites sides of the fireplace in great comfy chairs and had a chinwag with George as to what he was doing. The insight into his writing makes it all the more memorable. There was one turn of phrase that caught me most when he was discussing "The Maharajah's Star" and that was that he likes the "smaller, nested stories that all come together at the last moment." This is exactly how I feel and also how I think some of the stories work and some don't.

To succeed the stories need to be encapsulated, like a little jewel that sparkles on it's own but only at the end does it shine out and radiate among the expanded universe. Which is an overly flowery way of saying separate but connected. Take "Christmas Spirits" as the prime example and easily the weakest story in the book. In this loose re-imagining of A Christmas Carol Newbury dwells on his life and what has happened and what is to come. This stories makes almost no sense without the knowledge gleaned from the longer books. It pulled me out of the moment and destroyed the flow of being entranced by these jewel like stories.  Which goes to show what a balancing act it is when compiling a collection. Just one that's not quite right and you're distracted.

But this one flaw which might have more to do with my hatred of that particular Dickens tale leads me to that aspect which George just nailed, and yes, it oddly has to do with Dickens. George is able to mimic other writers. I wouldn't say he's aping them, because despite giving the feel of Arthur Conan Doyle or Wilkie Collins his writing is still distinctly his own; clean, concise and conversational, with an approachability that I feel Nancy Mitford is the paragon of and which George captures as well. But he's able to lend an air to his stories that connect with writers that are contemporary to his stories, giving them a depth most other Steampunk books aren't able to do.

In my favorite story "The Dark Path" George gives us a more classic detective story that brings to mind Wilkie Collins and The Moonstone... a copy of which is found in the missing valet's room. A coincidence? I think not! "What Lies Beneath" gives us an utterly delicious and creepy story that would have made Poe proud. While the aforementioned "Christmas Spirits" channels some Dickens and "The Case of the Night Crawler" brings John Watson back to life, though in a far more modern story then Conan Doyle would have penned. By writing in this way he acknowledges his predecessors while creating his own path. I am again reminded of something George said in his story notes. George says that in "Old Friends" he shows that "the old guard [can] retire in peace ... safe in the knowledge that someone else is out there now." Well, the old writers can retire in peace safe in the knowledge that George is carrying on their legacy in grand style but never forgetting what he owes to them!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens, George Mann, John Watson, Mann Month, Moriarty, Nancy Mitford, Newbury and Hobbes, Poe, Short Story, The Casebook of Newbury and Hobbes, The Moonstone, Wilkie Collins