Against expectations - I only picked this up because I couldn't find anything else to read - I was hooked. The book features a quadraplegic detective, Rhyme, his able bodied - and able - assisant Amelia Sachs, a top-of-the-range killer who has an inner voice in the form of an army officer, and an exciting, time-limited plot: the action takes place within 45 hours. The villain is almost unbelievably talented, Rhyme almost unbelievable in his ability to second-guess the villain's moves. But I did suspend disbelief, and was thoroughly sucked in to the plot, rooting for all the characters, even from time to time, the villain. I have a reason for not using his name. Read it and you'll find out why.
I was convinced by this moving story of a young teenage girl, Shabanu, raised in a nomadic desert family. Her account of her daily life - it's written in the first person - gave me some real insight into her life, and its real differences from 21st century European life. But her emotions as she confronts the marriage choices made for her as circumstances change around her are ones it's easy to identify with too. She has some very hard lessons to learn which are not the kind of lesson it would be palatable for a young western girl to accept. But as her mother warns, 'Shabanu, you are wild as the wind. You must learn to obey. Otherwise . . . I am afraid for you.'
Ho hum. A bit of a holiday read. I usually enjoy Ruth Rendell's books, but in this acase, there was little mystery, and the outcome was fairly predictable. The characters were usually unlikeable, and cardboard cut-outs at that. Dialogue was stilted. But it was well written enough to keep me turning the pages in the middle of the night when sleep was elusive, and I'll read Ruth Rendell again. Just not this one.
Every now and then I seem to have the need to read a detective novel, and Michael Connelly often hits the spot. This book has its hero, retired detective Harry Bosch, as its narrator. This slightly hard-boiled character finds an old unsolved case has got under his skin, but in post 9/11 America, he finds himself in serious conflict with the FBI who warn him off in no uncertain terms. By the end, so many disparate threads had been introduced I had a job keeping up, and it seemd to have as many special effects as a James Bond movie. A good enough read, but a book I was happy enough to come to the end of.
I normally enjoy a good PG Wodehouse, especially if Bertie Wooster and Jeeves are involved. Blandings Castle and That Pig don't get me so involved. And so it proved this time. I got thoroughly muddled with all the characters coming and going, and by the end, dodn't much care. I'll always enjoy a Wodehouse turn of phrase, but this time, it simply wasn't enough.
This is an exploration of McGahern's childhood in rural Ireland in the 1940's and 50's. He deeply loved his mother who died of cancer when he was still very young. Sent with his siblings to live with his authoritative father in police barracks (his father and mother rarely lived together) the children learn to endure cruelty and unpredictabilty and to rely entirely on each other for their emotional development. McGahern discovered books through the libarary of a sympathetic local priest, and through his education, gradually breaks free of the extraordinary volatile father who endeavours to control his life and that of his sisters and brother. I've not yet read any other books by McGahern. I will, to experience again his heartfelt, compelling, evocative writing.
Set in Amsterdam, the story involves 'a looted painting, a secret code, a deadly pursuit....'. The 17th century painting which exerts such a hold over the two principal protagonists, a young art researcher Ruth, and Lydia, an extremely elderly claimant of the picture, turns out to have a value beyond its qualities as a somewhat mediocre painting, and so a racy mystery story unfolds.
Lydia is not the only one to want the painting. We time-travel from 17th century Amsterdam, through the Nazi-occupied town, to the modern city as the plot develops. Often complicated, sometimes baffling, the plot was less important to me than the evocations of Amsterdam itself in its various guises. I enjoyed the descriptions of the city and those who lived there and contributed to the story: Ruth and Lydia in particular, but also some of the 'bit parts' - Ruth's colleague Myles, her father, even the cat, Principessa. The plotting at the end of the story seems somewhat sensationalist and rushed, but I was happy to keep reading for the pleasure of continuing to get to know Amsterdam itself. The book was in any case, quite a page-turner.
