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 [Mercedes Lackey - Foundation cover] This is the first Valdemar book she’s written in a while; it’s the start of a new series (The Collegium Chronicles) set a few generations after Magic’s Price (there is a Bard who learned a song from his mentor who had Stefen as his mentor). The timeline at the beginning has Magic’s Price as occurring during the reign of Randale, beginning in 798 AF and this set a little after 850 AF (no specific date). The Herald’s Collegium is currently being built; previously, trainees were trained individually or in very small groups by a mentor, but there has been a sudden influx of trainees and the number of Heralds who can safely have trainees (either based in Haven or on less-dangerous circuits) is not enough to cope. There is a general air of unease underneath everything in Haven, but the reasons aren’t really clear. Part of the unease is because some of the Heralds are not happy about the new Collegium; they think that the trainees need more personal supervision or the old ways were best or don’t like that there are enough trainees to force a change in training from mentor-apprentice to school-based or aren’t happy that there are trainees from more diverse backgrounds than previously. In the background, but only mentioned in passing, is that a sudden influx of trainees generally means a sudden need of new Heralds, often due to loss of existing Heralds due to war or other catastrophe.

Mags is a thirteen-year-old boy working in a gem mine along with a number of other orphaned or otherwise abandoned children; they are all underfed and overworked and there was a threat of murder for disobedience (people occasionally died in suspicious cave-ins; there were a few more blatant instances as well). He is eventually Chosen and taken to Haven to begin his training. Left alone at the Collegium at midwinter (his friends and most of the other Trainees went home), he attracts the attention of Master Builder Soren (ran into him at the market and advised him that the jewelry he was considering buying had flawed gems), and finds himself invited to one of Master Soren’s midwinter open houses. He meets several others around his age there and becomes friends with them. They are all the children of notable people and spend time spying (looking for signs of trouble; there are vague indications of unrest) under the direction of the King’s Own.

I thought this book was all right and I will read the next, but it is very generic Lackey and in some ways a retread of earlier books; there are parallels between Mags and Talia and also Mags and Skif, and there were also a couple of scenes that distinctly reminded me of other books, though in one case it was a generic sort of scene and I’d just read another book with a similar event. My biggest problem with the book was the complete lack of conflict or drama or action, even (except for a small amount at the end); I like escapist fluff, but I want a little more substance than this book had. Once Mags is at the Collegium, everything falls into place for him with very few problems (see below for a full description); he has no problems adjusting to the changes in his life, no problems controlling his Gift, and no one really cares about his upbringing. The one thing that actually bothered me about the book was that after he was first Chosen, his Companion kept him calm and accepting without telling Mags that he was controlling him. Mags was not bothered when he found out that his Companion could control his mind, either. Despite everything, I did find myself caring about the characters somewhat and wondering what the foreshadowing with Mags signified and what would happen next.

Mags is Special: Even at the mine, he is the best miner; most of the truly horrific parts of the experience are told later and most were seen, not experienced (not that being underfed and overworked and underdressed isn’t horrible). He somehow managed to teach himself to read and write sentences while all the other children were still struggling with simple words. The change in his situation is never too much for Mags to deal with (though his Companion was keeping him calm at first). He learns to ride quickly, though he does have some problems at first. Once at the Collegium, he gets a room to himself away from the other trainees. He is a natural with weapons, despite an early reluctance to raise a weapon against another person. No one cares that he has an extremely low-class background. He does relatively well in his classes (not the best, but not the worst), despite his almost complete lack of education; he does have a tutor for some subjects (history, especially) and he ends up with a friend as his tutor instead of an actual teacher. He has an extremely strong Mindspeech Gift, and has no problem controlling it. He and his Companion are closely linked enough that Dallan spends a lot of his time telling Mags what he should do in any given situation, so Mags doesn’t commit any social errors. He doesn’t make friends that easily at first, but he doesn’t make enemies either. He does spend a lot of time alone and just kind of avoiding company, but once he realizes that he is lonely, he acquires friends (not deliberately); Lena is a Bardic Trainee and the daughter of a high-ranking Bard, and Bear is a Trainee Healer without the Gift but with the best knowledge of herbal medicines of anyone at the Collegium. He attracts the attention (positive) of various high-ranking people and ends up with the King’s Own as his unofficial mentor.

 [Mercedes Lackey - The Snow Queen cover] The world of the Five Hundred Kingdoms is a world ruled by the fairy tale traditions; there are Godmothers who oversee parts of the kingdoms and make sure that the Tradition is followed in such a way that everyone gets what they deserve; if necessary, they can nudge events to follow a different traditional path or create new traditions. People who find themselves in Traditional situations often have a buildup of magic around them, which can attract the wrong sorts; the Godmothers often use that magic to ensure a satisfactory resolution. This is the fourth in this series, but it’s not really connected to the others beyond being in the same world; the Godmother Elena (from the first novel) is a character in this, but her being a Godmother is more relevant than her history. Instead of being a straight fairy-tale retelling, the books take bits and pieces from various stories and attempt to create a cohesive story from them. This book had its flaws, but overall was an enjoyable bit of fluff; she actually addresses that in an author’s note, that there is a place for escapist literature and happily-ever-afters.

Aleksia, Queen of the Northern Lights, the Snow Queen, etc., is the Godmother for some of the Northern Kingdoms. She lives alone in her ice palace in the north, with a revolving group of brownies as servants; one of the main things she does is take men who are in danger of becoming overly obsessed to the point of becoming at least amoral if not villainous and keeping them until they remember the important things; usually they have a woman following to attempt rescue. The current one is Kay, who has the potential to become a Clockwork Artificer (intent on creating life, no matter what cost), if an evil magician didn’t find him first; his girlfriend Greta is searching for him, and at one point is captured by bandits and given to the chief’s daughter as a servant. Aleksia is keeping an eye on her as well; she is good but selfish and may end up taking over the bandits and leading a revolution in her kingdom in a few years (the current king is a bit of a tyrant).

Nearby, but not really under Aleksia’s purview, are the Sammi; they are a loose confederation of nomadic reindeer herders instead of an actual kingdom. The Wise Women read the runes for the children and the runes decide what path the children should take in life. Kaari has the unusual rune for Heart, which makes everyone love her; she somehow manages to become engaged to Veikko, the son of Annuka, the village’s Wise Woman, without causing too much chaos of disgruntled suitors. Veikko had the runes of Warrior and Mage; there was no one in the village who could train him, so he left in search of teachers. Eventually word gets around among the Sammi (and also to Elena) that the Snow Queen is killing villages overnight and taking men; Aleksia is not happy to hear this and ends up taking a role in the story itself instead of just overseeing others. Kaari has a silver cup that shows Veikko’s health, and it turns mostly black, so she and Annuka end up searching for him; eventually they meet Aleksia and later Veikko’s teachers and they all end up working together.

I liked this book better than the previous volumes, possibly because it was more fantasy and less romance than the others; Gerda and Kay and Kaari and Veikko were pre-existing couples, and the other characters only met possible romantic prospects near the end. This book does have its flaws; she does have a distinct style, and all of her characters have similar thought processes and speech patterns. The ending seemed a bit anti-climatic, but I can’t put my finger on why; the final confrontation followed normal fairy-tale logic (taken straight from some tale that I can’t immediately identify), and the motivations of the various characters were fully presented, but it wasn’t entirely satisfying. The story of Gerda and Kay seemed tacked on instead of integrated into the main plot; their story was resolved partway through and I halfway expected them to show up later, but they did not. It seemed to be there more for a source of exposition as to how the Godmothers worked and why Aleksia was different than to actually contribute towards the story; I do wonder if the bit with the bandit’s daughter and the Tyrant might be hooks for another novel. It’s an interesting world, and I like the concept, but there was a bit much infodumping and explanation in this book. I was vaguely annoyed that random animals were capitalized: Bears, but wolves; Swans, but geese. There was also a bit of an editing issue, with two slightly different versions of a scene (the aftermath of Annuka and Kaari and the bandits) appearing; Annuka and Kaari were cleaning up after dealing with the bandits, the action shifted to Aleksia, and when it shifted back to Annuka and Kaari, they were cleaning up after the bandits again with enough repeated actions that it was obviously a different version instead of slightly later.

These are published by Luna, which is an imprint of Harlequin; I was not aware of that until after I had read the first two, and felt that that explained some of the issues I had with them. The first (The Fairy Godmother, the Elena who is a recurring character) had more of a focus on romance (and more sex, though it was the only one with much) than I really expected; I felt the ending of the second (One Good Knight) was a bit of a cop-out and it would have been better with lesbians; and I don’t really remember the third (Fortune’s Fool) at all; I think it was the book that I felt needed more conflict or suspense or something; happy endings are nice, but some trouble along the way would have been nice as well. This one had more of a focus on the action than the romance, and the focus on the action added a little more conflict to the story.

This is disc two of the third series; it was the last aired in the UK, but the second in the US. For some reason, this series has aired in its entirety in the US (summer 2007, with the DVD release in the fall), but has not yet or only just completely aired in the UK (two September 2007, two August 2008; Nemesis is listed with a generic August airdate on wikipedia (page has cast lists and very vague spoilers about changes)); the cast list is also on imdb.

There are probably spoilers here; it is difficult to talk about the differences without them. I had seen the cast list and was aware that it was not a close adaptation; very few of the novel’s characters are in the cast list (the murderer, the accused, the victim, and a supporting character; all might as well have been different people, and the supporting character didn’t even have the same function as in the novel). I also had watched the first series and had seen how far they strayed from the novels as time went on; the first two were relatively faithful, the third had some characterization changes and extra added angsty subplots, and the fourth had what was essentially the same plot with different characters. I had at one point decided to watch this one next because it looked so different, but had decided to continue in order; I failed to change my queue or check it until after this one had shipped, though. Netflix does have all of the first three series, but the second two are listed under the book name only, not as part of Agatha Christie’s Marple as the first was.

The basic plot was the same: Jason Rafiel has died and left a sum to Miss Marple, under the condition that she investigate an unidentified past event (identifying the event (a murder, of course) was part of the investigation); he arranges for her to go on a house tour through the relevant area. The murderer’s motive and eventual (generic, not specific) fate are also the same, but everything else is different. It is not clear how Mr. Rafiel and Miss Marple met (in the books, previously in A Caribbean Mystery; here, unspecified, though I skipped some and don’t know if he was written into one of those), but his personality and history are completely different. The amount of the bequest was also changed (£20,000 in the book vs. £500 here), but that may be because they moved the story into the past; the novel was one of the last she wrote (published in 1971), while this was set in 1951.

Miss Marple receives instructions (via gramophone) and two tickets for a tour, she decides to take her womanizing nephew Raymond West along. It becomes obvious early on that the other tourists were hand-picked by Mr. Rafiel, though none of them knew it; everyone received tickets from some source instead of deciding that this tour was a good idea. The book had a mix of tourists, and the ones that Mr. Rafiel sponsored knew it. The tour guide is named Georgina Barrow, but she bears no resemblance to the Georgina Barrow of the book.

This adaptation had a World War II-era backstory, including Nazis, a convent, nuns, wounded soldiers, amnesia victims, heiresses, servants, landlords, blackmail, a missing girl in the past, and two murders in the present; the book had school headmistresses and professors and other random people, mostly around the same class as Miss Marple (with maybe a title somewhere), a murder and a missing girl (I think; it might have been two murders, though) in the past and one in the present, with a someone convicted of the murder. One of the Netflix reviewers complained about extra added lesbians, but I didn’t see any difference in that particular relationship between the book and its adaptation.

The overall plot seemed very contrived: eleven years later, Mr. Rafiel somehow managed to track down everyone who knew Verity around the time of her disappearance; it’s possible he managed to find out about her last landlord, but unlikely he would have found the ex-soldier significant unless he knew her eventual fate, and if he knew her eventual fate, he could have gone through more normal channels. I think the tour in the book was a normal tour that happened to go near the relevant area; Mr. Rafiel arranged for Miss Marple to stay with a family who knew Verity (the missing girl/murder victim) during part of the tour. This tour was probably planned by Mr. Rafiel to go to all of the relevant locations, including a forced overnight stay at the abandoned convent. He also gave Miss Marple more relevant clues in this than she had in the book; staying with the relevant family (three sisters, either widowed or never married) led to a more natural exposition of the backstory in the novel. In this, Miss Marple didn’t really do anything beyond ask loud questions and listen to the answers. I’m not sure why the killer tried to poison her at the end; it seemed very abrupt.

The book didn’t have as much action or random subplots as its adaptation; it had a bit more of an aura of menace and a bit of creepiness, though. It was obvious that something was not quite right, but was not obvious until the end who was responsible. I am unfortunately hazy on the book’s details at this time, but may go back and write a longer comparison later; I did write a long plot synopsis of this adaptation for future reference. This might not have been a bad murder mystery on its own, but it bears no resemblance to the book it takes its name from.

This is one of her Regency romance novels, long out of print, borrowed from the library. I’ve read and liked several of her other works (her mysteries and some of her fantasy), including one of her other romances (also from the library), and wanted to like this one, but could not finish it. I like her writing, was interested in the characters, and was curious how everyone would get their happy endings, but did not like and could not get past most of the characters’ attitudes towards Lady Juliette (the lead). I’ve already returned it, so will have to be vague with names.

Lady Juliette is an only child of a wealthy man; her mother died when she was very young, and her father essentially raised her as his estate agent. She planned to go to London for the Season under the sponsorship of family friends, but they could not go for some reason. She ended up hiring a companion and going anyway, but was not particularly successful despite her fortune; this was probably due to a combination of her hired companion, her personality (very managing), and her clothes. Her maid was her mother’s, and she took her advice on the matter of fashion, resulting in an extremely out-of-date wardrobe in unflattering colors. This was actually my first stumbling block; she does not see much difference between what she wears and what everyone else is wearing, despite the fact that her styles are much more ornate and the colors much brighter. I could accept not caring, but not seeing is a different matter.

The story begins after the Season; Juliette is attending house-parties in an effort to avoid a summons to her great-aunt’s house. The current house has a marriageable son and a hopeful mother, though Juliette and the son are aware of his mother’s hopes but are not interested in each other. The son is very easygoing and not particularly discriminating about his friends; one of his friends (invited to the party) is someone with a deservedly bad reputation (was disowned and decided to ruin himself further). Among the other house-guests are Juliette’s friend Althea, her sister Isobel and their family; Juliette’s cousin Anthony arrives later with instructions to take Juliette to her aunt. The rake meets Juliette while she is out riding, and kisses her; they are surprised to meet again as fellow house-guests. He was not planning on staying more than a night, but decides to stay longer because of her. Complications ensue, mostly due to money and expectations of money and relationships forming occasionally because of those expectations, but mostly despite them.

I was interested in the plot; at the point where I stopped, I didn’t see how any of the projected couples could have ended up with a happy ending. Everyone’s thoughts of Juliette include mention of how ridiculous her wardrobe is or how badly she interacts with people or other negative thoughts (varying from mild to scornful); this was the reason I could not continue. I cannot read or watch things where everyone is mocking the lead behind their back. If it hadn’t been overdue, I might have kept at it longer (a chapter here and there), but I didn’t care enough to renew it. I might try it again some other time, though.

 [Lynn Flewelling - Shadows Return cover] This is the fourth in her Nightrunner series; however, it is only loosely related to the first three and I think it would work as a stand-alone. Reading the others first would be nice, but the relevant parts of the history are explained; reading this first would spoil some of the plot of the earlier books, though (who survives, Alec’s heritage, etc.). I haven’t read the others in a while (and I didn’t make it through Traitor’s Moon the last time I reread the first two), but didn’t really feel like I was missing anything. There is also apparently a direct sequel planned for this book, but the ending of this one is satisfactory.

The book opens with Seregil and Alec having some problems while recovering a stolen brooch, followed by a discussion of their current situation (boredom, mostly) and the events leading up to it. They are tired of acting as nobles and the occasional petty jobs as nightrunners and the lack of serious business; they had previously acted as Watchers (spying and other sorts of undercover work on behalf of the government), but had not been called upon to do that sort of work in a while. They are eventually given the job of going to Aurënen to tell Princess Klia that she is to return to Skala to act as the queen’s field commander and to escort her back as quickly as possible. On the way, their group is ambushed, they are kidnapped, and everyone else is killed. They are then sold as slaves; most of the book is about their experiences (separately) as slaves. Alec was wanted by the alchemist Yhakobin; one of Yhakobin’s other slaves (Khenir) knew of Alec’s existence and possible suitability and was promised freedom and Seregil as a reward. After the first few chapters, there is nothing that connects this book to the previous volumes; the first chapters exist to give backstory and an excuse for travel, but the backstory is not relevant to the events of this book. There is a bit of Seregil’s past involved, but it is his distant past and is fully explained. Someone with a grudge against Seregil from the previous books is slightly involved with the kidnapping (provided information, maybe?); his grudge is not really explained but is not relevant.

I bought this because it’s a book about Alec and Seregil, even though the back cover description made me fairly sure it was not the book for me, specifically “En route, however, they are ambushed and separated, and both are sold into slavery.” That is Not My Thing, but I read it and liked it anyway, even though thirty of the forty-seven chapters involved Alec and Seregil separated and captive and suffering various forms of physical (not graphically described, thankfully) and mental pain; admittedly, there are a few chapters in those thirty involving people realizing that they are missing and setting out to the rescue. They also spent a noticeable portion of their time together arguing. I would rather have read a book about Alec and Seregil facing adversity together instead of separately, though.

I did like this book (bought it new, don’t regret buying it, am looking forward to the next), but had some problems with it that I think can be summed up as too much hurt, not enough comfort, and also not enough plot, really. This book has a narrower scope than the others; there is immediate danger to Alec and Seregil, but it is personal; there is no larger threat. The previous books dealt with plots against the country and treason and spying and warfare; the war is continuing in the background, but isn’t really relevant. I generally think a little politics goes a long way (and have stopped reading books because the emphasis shifted from people to politics) but I would have welcomed more of the politics and the changes due to the events in the past books. I would also have liked more action and less slavery (well, I would have liked anything other than Alec and Seregil as slaves).

The epilogue sets up part of the plot for the next book (coming summer 2009!): the Hazâdriëlfaie are not happy; the ad for the next book sets up another part: Alec and Seregil and others go in search of the Hazâdriëlfaie looking for answers. Despite my problems with this book, I am looking forward to the next one.

This is the last volume of the first series of the recent BBC adaptations of Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple books. The alternate title for the book is What Mrs. McGillicudy Saw! The book is one of my favorites, but it’s been a while since I’ve read it. I actually watched this one on the tv instead of the computer, and discovered that it has closed-captioning, so that’s one less complaint. I’d rather have subtitles, but captions are better than nothing. I’ve been trying to avoid spoilers, but there will probably be some in this because this adaptation was not particularly faithful to the novel.

I’d been enjoying these adaptations, even with the changes; I didn’t like the way Miss Marple’s character was changed, but could deal with most of the other changes. For the most part, the changes didn’t really affect the flow of the story; I could have done without the change of the colonel in A Murder is Announced from happily married to depressed alcoholic bachelor with a romantic subplot, though. In some ways, this one is very close to a complete rewrite of the book; the plot is fairly close to the original, but the characters are for the most part different people. I think the only people who retain their original characterization are Emma Crackenthorpe (who had little personality either way), Bryan Eastley and maybe Dr. Quimper. The murderer’s motivations were changed slightly, and they removed a murder. They also added Harold’s wife as an involved character; in the book, she existed but was elsewhere.

Mrs. McGillicudy is on her way to St. Mary Mead to visit Miss Marple (via the 4:50 from Paddington); after waking up from a nap, she sees a train on a parallel track, and in one of the windows, she sees a woman being strangled. No one really believes her, and no body was found. She is going to Ceylon in the near future (I always had the impression it was to visit her son or other relative; this implied a recent widower), and is happy to leave further investigation in Miss Marple’s hands. In the movie, they use maps and timetables to figure out where the body might be, but in the book, Miss Marple consults with the vicar’s son (maps) and her nephew’s son (timetables); the end result is that the body must be on the grounds of Rutherford Hall. Lucy Eyelesbarrow has a degree, but decided there was more money to be made in domestic service. She takes short-term jobs only, and at one point looked after Miss Marple while she was recovering from pneumonia. Miss Marple contacts her, and she manages to get a job at Rutherford Hall to be near her “Aunt Jane” while she looks for the body, and Miss Marple finds somewhere to stay nearby. She eventually finds the body in a sarcophagus (book: in a barn full of random things Luther collected; show: in a mausoleum on the property).

Rutherford Hall is owned by Luther Crackenthorpe; his father was wealthy, did not like Luther, and left his estate in trust for Luther’s children. Luther’s wife, one daughter (Edith) and one son (Edmund) are dead, his other daughter (Emma, never married) lives there, and his sons (Cedric, Harold, Alfred) live elsewhere. Edith was married to Bryan Eastley, a former fighter pilot, and they had one son (she died in childbirth). Harold is the only other one who is married; he has no children. In the book, Edmund wrote that he had met a French woman (Martine) and was planning on being married, and the next they knew he had been killed; in the book, they never met her, but in the show, there is a flashback of him bringing her to meet the family. Emma had received a letter supposedly from Martine about a possible visit about her son (essentially, needed money for support in the book at least); there is a possibility that the woman in the sarcophagus was French, which causes some concern. Lucy continues investigating, while flirting with or being propositioned by most of the male cast (a slightly different part in each version). At one point, they have curry for dinner; everyone is sick afterwards, and someone dies. In the book, some people leave afterwards and someone else dies; in the show, they all remain at the house and no one else dies. Miss Marple eventually puts all the pieces together and stages a re-enactment of the original murder for Mrs. McGillicudy’s benefit and the murderer is caught; in the show, they do this on the trains, which seems highly improbable.

Miss Marple is even more out of character in this, especially considering that in the book, she explicitly thinks she is too old for adventures. More than once, she arrives uninvited to see Lucy. At the beginning, instead of calling Lucy, she barges into a party to see her. I cannot see Miss Marple barging in anywhere unless it was a matter of life or death (and maybe not even then, if she could find another way). Later, she invites herself to stay with Detective Inspector Tom Campbell (who spent at least part of his childhood in St. Mary Mead), and visits Rutherford Hall more than once. In the book, she might have invited herself to stay with someone, but it was her former housekeeper who takes in lodgers.

Lucy’s personality makes it hard for me to believe she is as successful of a housekeeper as she is; she has a reputation for excellent service, which would explain some of it. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but she seems a bit forward for someone acting as a housekeeper; assertive, bossy, managing would all be understandable, but she seems to act more like part of the family than a housekeeper. In the show, she eats with the Crackenthorpes, though I don’t think it’s mentioned where she takes her meals in the books. In her first scene, she is working for Noel Coward and is singing for his guests before setting the table; it seemed unlikely that the Lucy of the books would agree to sing for the guests. Miss Marple barges in on his farewell speech to her. She’s also less subtle in her investigations: in the book, she practices golf as an excuse to explore the grounds and there’s a barn full of junk for her to consider straightening up as an excuse for poking around in; in the show there’s only a mausoleum, and no real reason for her to go poking around in there at night.

In the books, Luther Crackenthorpe was a miser and not particularly fond of his late wife or his children and was just mean; in this, he was still mourning his wife ten years later and was a lot nicer. Alfred Crackenthorpe was a different sort of scum in this (in the book, vaguely financial scams, never proven, no girlfriend; in this, some sort of scam involving acting as his girlfriend’s distraught husband) and was a weepy drunk because his girlfriend left him. Harold Crackenthorpe is an at least attempted rapist, and makes an offhand comment about never being able to like women. Cedric Crackenthorpe has a completely different alibi, and is not as much of a womanizer in this as in the book. In the book, there is a love triangle with Lucy, Brian, and Cedric; in this, it’s Lucy, Brian, and the Inspector. Bryan Eastley’s character is the same, but he was actually acquainted with Martine (and apparently never heard about the letter).

I am very tempted to rent Nemesis next, even though it is the last of the third series. Looking at its cast, it has to be a wholesale rewrite of the adaptation-in-name-only variety; I reread it last fall, and did not recognize most of the character names in the cast list, and there was apparently a convent added to the story (Mother xxx and Sister xxx in the cast list).

Previously:
The Murder at the Vicarage
The Body in the Library
A Murder is Announced

on wikipedia: Noël Coward, Agatha Christie
listing on imdb

I bought this new when I was still reading everything by Barbara Hambly (probably somewhere around its release date in 1994); I doubt I would have read it otherwise, and I’ve always felt that whoever was responsible for the title and cover did this book a disservice, though I’m not sure the marketing department knew what to do with it. On her site, she mentions that this was tacked onto the contract of another book the publisher wanted, and that it did not sell well at all. She also mentions an outline for a sequel (Curse of the Swamp Monster), but is not optimistic about its existence as an actual book. I do love this book, cheesy title and overdramatic blurbs and all:

Hollywood, 1923:

Gin, gems, and life in the fast lane…Chrysanda Flamande was the sultriest vamp of the silver screen. She had everything–fawning friends, glittering parties, exotic diversions, and baubles to spare.

Then an elderly Chinese gentleman warned her that the fabulous trinket she’d worn in her latest screen triumph had marked her to be the bride of an ancient devil-god of Manchuria. Chris paid him not the slightest heed–until the stunt double who’d also worn the jewel was hideously murdered.

The Rat God’s trap began to close. And as her doom stalked closer and her fair-weather friends fell away, Chris grew ever more desperate. But how could she thwart the mystical power and monstrous guile of the fiend that hunted her? What human force could keep the demon Rat God from claiming his unwilling bride?

This is mostly accurate; the timing of events is wrong (she was given a warning but didn’t find out the specifics until after the stunt double’s murder and an attempt on her own life), and the bit about the fair-weather friends is not true (they do end up avoiding Chris’ usual set of friends near the end, though). The cover features a dark-haired flapper-ish woman wearing an opal necklace (Chris is indeed dark-haired, which surprised me; I keep thinking of her as a redhead), burning oil rigs (in the story) and a random Chinese figure (not a person; I’m not sure if its intended to be the Rat God or one of the guardian dogs).

The cover and its blurb (“Too beautiful to live! Too wild to die”), the back cover copy, and the first page excerpt (part of the scene with the burning oil rigs) give the impression of an action/thriller/horror/pulp type story. I think the choice was made to evoke the sort of films Chris was appearing in; however, it has those elements but isn’t really that type of story.

The story is told from the point-of-view of Christine’s sister-in-law Norah Blackstone, who has been in LA for six weeks at the start of the book. Chris traveled to England to buy three Pekingese (trying to out-Chinese her friends) and brought Norah back with her as well. Norah had lost almost everything (her family’s money was invested in Russia and was lost, so she had to give up school; her brother and husband were lost in WWI and most of her family died in an influenza epidemic afterwards; neither her remaining family nor her in-laws would help her because she was not Jewish, but her husband was; and she ended up in service to a nasty woman and her lecherous son), and was contemplating suicide. The story is as much about Norah’s healing as it is about the Rat God.

I love this book, and I really wish I could express why, though I think part of it is that it’s about an adult having a second chance at happiness and love, and that is something I like (wish-fulfillment, in a way). It’s not as action-packed as the description sounds, though the action is there (along with a few scenes of horrific violence; Ms. Hambly does gruesome very well). It seems more slow-paced than it is; the action takes place over the course of a couple of months. A lot of it is quiet scenes between Norah and her eventual love interest, with the chaos of the set or parties in the background; they do fall in love kind of quickly, but it doesn’t seem like it because they spend a lot of time together just talking or working (she ends up acting as his assistant occasionally). I actually believe they could have a functioning long-term relationship.

I ran across a mention of this somewhere; it sounded interesting, and the library had it. I picked it up and read a couple of random bits, thought “not for me” and put it back and wandered off, but wandered back and flipped through it again a couple more times before deciding that there was obviously something there that interested me and I should check it out. There’s a lot of description in the book, and I’m not a very visual reader, so long passages of description generally make my eyes glaze over, but something with his style made it interesting. I liked this much more than I expected and plan on buying it eventually.

The front cover blurb is from Harlan Ellison® (“What a breathless, mad tornado of words!”; I’ve never actually read him); the back blurbs compare it to Thomas Pynchon twice (tried and failed a couple of times), Phil Dick for the plot (a plus; I’ve read most, though not in at least ten years), and to China Miéville (bounced off of due to style) and Cory Doctorow (meh) for style. These are mostly not endorsements that I find appealing, but there were also several instances of “surreal” and surreal is always worth trying.

Manuel Rodrigo de Guzmán González is missing after his apartment exploded; his lover Wendell Apogee wants to know why. Wendell starts by talking to Manuel’s other friends and then his enemies and follows leads farther and farther away from his acquaintances. Manuel is the sort of person who knows everyone; at one point there is someone who keeps track of relationships with strings on nails, and Manuel is at the center of everything; that person is afraid that without Manuel, everything will fall apart. Manuel also has many enemies; he traffics in everything, including immigrants, drugs, and arms. Wendell eventually finds the city under the city (Darktown); he eventually fakes his death and moves there accompanied by Masoud, a former fighter pilot from Lebanon. Wendell reminds Masoud of his younger brother who he failed to protect, and he wants another chance to do the right thing. It’s hard to say anything else about the plot without spoiling any twists.

The setting is a very immigrant-heavy portion of New York, and the cast is extremely diverse; there are several Latino characters, but most of the others are from different cultures (and even the Latino characters are from everywhere that that description contains). I think there is a scene somewhere (a party, maybe?) where there are over a hundred languages being spoken. Wendell himself is white, but I kept thinking of him as African-American; I think I can blame the band Arrested Development for that (though the song was “Mr. Wendal” and the video featured an old man). The book mostly follows Wendell and is in third-person present tense, with flashbacks and glimpses of the futures of various characters in their appropriate tenses. The present tense took some getting used to, but after a few sections, I stopped really noticing it. It has seven chapters in which something happens; each chapter has named sections that are a few pages long.

The only things that bothered me were very minor: the police officers were named Trout and Salmon, which I found a bit jarring; and the end of the book (it ended). Even though the book just kind of ended, there were glimpses of most of the major characters’ futures throughout the book, so even if their immediate fates were uncertain, their future was at least mentioned.

I really liked this book, but can’t really say why; it just worked for me. I liked the characters, was interested in the plot, and liked the style. It’s annoying that I can go on for ages about things I don’t like or even things I find vaguely annoying, but can’t really find anything to say about things I like. It might have been easier if I had written it up when I read it instead of a couple of weeks later, though. The blurbs on the book are all extremely positive, and all of the praise is merited. I would not have guessed that this was a first novel, and I hope this book is successful for the author and that he continues to write.

I’d started watching these adaptations last year; the earlier ones were The Murder at the Vicarage and The Body in the Library; I am enjoying them despite their flaws (or maybe because of them; comparing to the source and otherwise nitpicking can be fun). I read or reread the book last year when I first started watching these; I wasn’t sure if I had read it before or not. Knowing the murderer made perfectly innocent-looking scenes a bit creepy and some scenes were hard to watch knowing that a character just set himself or herself up as the next victim.

One Friday, the local paper for the rural village of Chipping Cleghorn has an ad in the personals section announcing a murder at Little Paddocks at 6:30. Letitia Blacklock, who lives there, is surprised to see the ad, but (correctly) assumes all the neighbors will show up out of curiosity. Also living at Little Paddocks are Doris Bunner (Bunny), a childhood friend; Patrick and Julia Simmons, distant cousins (in the book, rent-paying and studying and working in a nearby town); Philippa Haymes, renting and working as a gardener nearby; and Mitzi, the Eastern European refugee help. The neighbors are Col. Easterbrook (single here, married in the book); Mrs. Swettenham and her son Edward; and Lizzie (?) Hinchcliffe and Amy Murgatroyd, who share a cottage and who in the book are old enough to be the mothers of the younger characters, but are significantly younger here. Patrick, Julia, Philippa, and Edward are all around the same age (young adult). The book also had the vicar and his wife (known as Bunch) as characters; the vicar was mostly in the background anyway, and Bunch’s personality and relationship with Miss Marple (mother as friend) were given to Murgatroyd.

Everyone outside of Little Paddocks assume the ad is an invitation to a murder-game sort of party, so at 6:30, everyone is gathered, Ms Blacklock is about to offer cigarettes and break out the sherry, when the lights go out, someone throws open the door and demands valuables, and shots ring out. Once there is light, they find the body of an unknown man; he turns out to be Rudi Scherz, who worked at a resort hotel in a nearby town. Miss Marple was staying at the hotel at the time, and gets herself invited to stay with the daughter of a friend (the vicar’s wife in the book, Murgatroyd in the movie) so she can investigate. She spends most of her time talking to people, and several conversations that were between other characters are now with her. A motive is discovered: Miss Blacklock might inherit a large sum of money in the near future from her ex-employer. The money was left in trust to his wife, who is dying; if she dies first, it goes to his sister’s children (they did not speak after her marriage), and several people are the right age to be the sister or her husband or the children. More people are killed, people start accusing each other, and eventually the remaining cast gathers at Little Paddocks so that Miss Marple can explain everything. They actually made the ending less dramatic than in the book (no attempted murders at the last minute), which surprised me.

My biggest complaint with this was an extra added subplot; the eliminating or combining of minor characters and the reworking of scenes to include Miss Marple didn’t bother me (though the changed ages and appearances of a couple did) and the random change of an off-stage character from “trying her hand at acting” to “living in sin” and the removal of a small romantic subplot bothered me a little but didn’t have much of an effect on the story. The removal of Col. Easterbrook’s wife and the addition of a romance between him and Mrs. Swettenham wouldn’t have been too bad, but making Col. Easterbrook alcoholic and Edward Swettenham jealous and mean bothered me. This is a murder mystery; there is plenty of angst and conflict without adding more. I also don’t know why they had Mrs. Swettenham tell Miss Marple all about the relationship and her past in the middle of a crowded shop.

I have the usual problems with Miss Marple in this one; she should be frail and white-haired and fluffy and self-effacing, but is not. I have no problems with Geraldine McEwan’s acting, but the character she is portraying is not the Miss Marple of the books. She was a bit snide towards Inspector Craddock at the beginning and he is impatient with her (in the books, he’s heard of her from his uncle and seeks her aid). I find myself wondering if these were filmed at once and then shown or each filmed and then shown and adapting to criticism; Miss Marple has layers of shawls and is knitting more and is less vigorous in this one, even though it’s chronologically before the adaptation of The Murder at the Vicarage, at least (that was explicitly 1951, this is explicitly 1949). She is more of a background character in this one, which may be why she seems less vigorous. She is occasionally snide, which the book version would never be. They also left out her tendency to compare people to others she met in the past. Also, she cried over someone’s death, which is just wrong.

I had a few random continuity and other minor issues in this one. The missing pictures were noticed but never explained. Inspector Craddock is impatient with Miss Marple and warns her not to play detective when she shows up in Chipping Cleghorn, but lets her read the letters from Letitia to Charlotte for no apparent reason (he has no interaction with her between these events); in the book he warns her because he is worried about her. The random Clue reference bothered me, though it’s possible time-wise (according to Wikipedia, Cluedo was first published in England in 1948, and this was set in 1949). I was happy to see Miss Marple knitting, but they either needed to teach her to be convincing or not show her actively trying. I’m no expert, but it looks like she has one knitting needle, the motions tell me “crocheting”, and the yarn’s just looped over her hand, not in her fingers at all. There also seem to be more ends to the yarn than there should be and there are more colors in the scarf than there are on the table (and the one missing would be the one she’d need next if the pattern continues). I have no problems with the acting overall, but did not find Col. Easterbrook’s loud drunkenness (especially at Bunny’s party) convincing.

This one has not-so-gratuitous lesbians in Murgatroyd and Hinch; it is not explicitly stated in the book, but the are at the very least very close friends, and it is not unreasonable that in post-war England, finances would make sharing a house necessary. The way they are described (Hinch is manlike or manly or mannish, Murgatroyd is more feminine) and the fact that there have been other lesbian couples in other of Christie’s novels makes me think that a couple was the appropriate interpretation, though. I am glad they used that interpretation; it would have been a bit hypocritical of them not to after adding gratuitous lesbians to a different book. In the book they are Murgatroyd and Hinch or (Miss Murgatroyd and Miss Hinchcliffe), even to each other, and it is disconcerting that everyone (including Hinch) calls Murgatroyd “Amy” in the movie. Murgatroyd is described as “fat and amiable” with a “curly bird’s-nest of gray hair” in the book but has a thin blonde actress; Hinch is described as having a “short manlike crop” and wears trousers often, as she does in the movie. I wish they had left them at their original ages, but I guess they decided that fat middle-aged lesbians were no good.

Next: The 4:50 from Paddington aka What Mrs. McGillicudy Saw, which I’m kind of afraid to watch because it’s one of my favorites.

info at imdb

I picked up a ton of late 70s/early 80s historical romances (mostly Signet/Fawcett/Coventry series titles, mostly regency) from a used bookstore’s clearance; I read lots of these when I was much younger (they were often .25-.50 not-for-trade at the nearby used bookstore) and wanted to replace a few that were falling apart or that I’d gotten rid of but wanted to reread; the clearance was $5 for a grocery-bag full, so I filled a bag (more than once). Either I had better luck with my selections or I had a higher tolerance for mediocre writing and excessively spunky heroines when I was younger; I couldn’t read several of these for various reasons, and want to keep track of which ones I liked and which ones I hated and why. The dislikes are getting longer comments than the likes; also, this is the result of a few different attempts at the pile of books over about a year, so I don’t remember some of them very well, and the negative is easier to remember than the positive.

Liked

Horatia, Mary Ann Gibbs
The heiress Horatia flees her wicked uncle and becomes a stableboy.

The Reluctant Adventuress, Silvia Thorpe
Katharine was supposed to be a governess; her uncle and his wife invite her to live with them instead. They have ulterior motives.

Rogues’ Covenant, Silvia Thorpe
The mysterious Philip Digby comes to the neighborhood and attracts attention from all sorts of people; he claims to be the friend of the heir to a local estate. It’s told from the hero’s point of view; the heroine is described as “a headstrong girl” at one point (and is a few steps past that into spoiled and reckless). It has more action than many; I’m starting to wonder if that’s a side effect of being categorized as “Georgian”.

Eleanor and the Marquis, Jane Wilby (Harlequin Historical 1)
Beatrix falls in love with someone unsuitable and is shipped off to London for her Season ahead of schedule; her impoverished cousin Eleanor accompanies her. The aunt in charge (with the aid of her nephew, the marquis) decides to make Eleanor the rage of the season instead of Beatrix (Beatrix is blonde and blondes were in; she should have been a success). This one is nostalgic; it was one of the first of these I read, though that copy is long gone. I don’t know if I’d like it as much otherwise.

Lucetta, Audrey Blanshard
Lord Wintringham is extremely eccentric; his daughter Lucetta is a beautiful spitfire. Lord Wintringham suggests to a houseguest that he marry Lucetta; the houseguest leaves abruptly. A large number of misunderstandings ensue. I’d actually read this one at some point before.

Lord Fairchild’s Daughter, Maggie MacKeever
Lord Fairchild wagered his daughter Loveday’s virtue and lost; she, with the help of her half-brother, ran away from the winner to a distant relative to stay until she comes of age in the near future (she’s an heiress, of course). This is actually a bit gothic in tone; there are murders in the past (which Loveday witnessed but does not remember), attempts on her life, a crazy girl, a rake who wants to marry her (and who is rumored to have killed a governess), ghosts, and an oubliette. I had a hard time with some of the names, especially the housekeeper’s: Mrs. Snugglebutt.

The Misses Millikin, Maggie MacKeever (Coventry Romances 55)
Angelica lives with her stepmother and her numerous (and extremely attractive and extremely lacking in common-sense) half-siblings; she promised her father on his deathbed that she’d look after them. Rosemary, the oldest of her half-sisters (20 at most; Angelica is 27), married Lord Chalmers for his money; Angelica, Lily (the next sister), and Fennel (the oldest half-brother) go to London so Lily can have her chance. Rosemary, Lily, and Fennel have their share of problems, which they expect Angelica to solve; Angelica has days of wishing she could give up her responsibilities and be as frivolous as the rest of them. This was a rebuy; I adore it, and my copy was falling to pieces.

Indifferent

A Keeper for Lord Linford, Margaret SeBastian (Coventry Romances 170)
Lady Gordon, her daughter Ancilla, and two other girls are inexplicabley vacationing in the Lake District and meet the socially-inept Lord Linford and the rascally and dashing Captain Wildish. I don’t know why I finished this; I didn’t like any of the characters, events happened randomly, and I felt the hero and heroine were on a first-name basis too soon. One of the other girls speaks with italics, which got really annoying really fast.

Disliked

The Tulip Tree, Mary Ann Gibbs
The blurb is misleading; it says Allegra Lakesby had to leave her ancestral home (after her father died) to become a governess due to her irresponsible father. Instead, she, her mother, and an aunt have to leave their home for a smaller one nearby due to her father’s heir moving into the home; they are on friendly terms with him and he gives them things. Allegra is a spoiled brat and hates the smaller home and decides being a governess would be preferable to having come down in status, much to her family’s dismay. She leaves with their knowledge and blessing (they don’t think she’ll last a week), and that’s where I stopped. She also is excessively romantic and hopes that the eligible son of the family will fall in love with her. I may try this again at some point (through the initial governess-ing, at least); I’ve liked other books by the author.

The Random Gentleman, Elizabeth Chater (Coventry Romances 139)
Belinda Sayre finds out she has been betrothed to the Duke of Romsdale since birth; she is excessively spunky and he is self-centered, so they have bad impressions of each other without actually meeting; he is late for a party, and she leaves early in a huff; both say things they shouldn’t which get repeated to the other. She runs away; he wanders off in search of her and falls in with some gypsies. I stopped after they actually meet; he assumes she’s much younger and lower class, and she wonders if he’s really a gypsy. I didn’t care about either of them; I hate excessively spoiled and spunky heroines.

Babe, Joan Smith (Coventry Romances 22)
The notorious Lady Barbara never had an awkward teen stage and always looked like a woman; she didn’t care for any of her suitors until she met Lord Clivedon, who became her guardian and attempted to get her to behave properly. She is beyond spunky and into completely obnoxious; I did not like her and don’t want to read about her. I love other books by the author, but did not like this one and will not give it another chance.

A Sanditon Quadrille, Rebecca Baldwin (Coventry Romances 118)
Spirited Miranda Brandywine knows there is no reason for her father to stop her marriage to the poet Charles Hartley; gentle Emily Rockhall doesn’t want to marry the impetuous Lord Marle, even though her mother wants her to marry him. The author admits to borrowing the town of Sanditon from Jane Austen; she does not admit to borrowing various other characters and plots from Austen and Heyer (Bath Tangle, especially).