Flavour Flavia

The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag
Alan Bradley
Anchor Canada

The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag is actually the second novel that I've read in the Flavia de Luce mystery series.  What a joy this character is!  Almost eleven, Flavia has already developed what my mother would characterize as a "unique" personality.  Tortured by her older siblings (Daphne and Ophelia, aka Daffy and Feely), Flavia takes great pleasure in plotting their demise.   She's well versed in the art of poisons and when she's not engaged in distilling and concocting, Flavia can usually be found  flying about the English countryside with her best friend Gladys -- a shiny two-wheeler that was a hand-me-down from her deceased mother.  Did I mention that Flavia also likes to solve murders in her spare time?  As I said, she's quite a character.

There are so many great things to recommend this series that I hardly know where to start.  The characters that inhabit these novels are all fantastically drawn and offer almost as much as Flavia herself.  The mysteries are challenging and unlike other detective fiction I've been reading lately,  I've been unable to guess the Whodunit half through the book.  And finally, the writing itself is beautiful.  If words on a page can manage to transport me to another time and another place in such a way that I want to stay in that new world, then I think the author has succeeded in drawing me in.  I have tried to savour these novels because I like Flavia's world and I just don't want them to end. Four dastardly plots out of five.

Only the Shadow Knows ...

The Book of Air and Shadows

Michael Gruber

Harper Collins

A couple of weeks ago I was having a discussion with a work colleague about what makes a good read.   He and I have similar tastes in "Capital L " Literature and I totally trust his recommendations.  It also got me to thinking.  Maybe I've been watching too many Criminal Minds episodes lately, but I get the feeling that if one were to understand my preferences in books, one would be a few short steps from understanding my most inner self.   Scary thought that. 

So why the babble, you ask?  Well, on paper, The Book of Air and Shadows seems like something that I would normally inhale. I mean, it's got all the right pieces:

• It's highly intertextual (you know now I dig books about books)
• The narrative comprises multiple points of view.  It's not just one guy telling a story.
• The timeline shifts between 17th century England and 21st century New York without any crazy time travelling devices or dream sequences.
• It has gangsters and cryptology.  Really, what more could a girl want? 

Well, maybe just a little more.  Jake Mishkin, an IP lawyer based in New York, finds himself in temporary custody of a manuscript fragment that refers to a work by William Shakespeare that has never before been seen.  Aspiring film maker Albert Crosetti is in possession of an encrypted portion of that same manuscript which reveals the location of the new play.  The two eventually connect and mayhem ensues.  While this novel was just a little too smart in places for its own good, it would make a decent airplane read.  Three cramped secretary hands out of five.

Vampires, Lycanthropes and Things That Go Bump in the Night

Narcissus in Chains
Laurell K. Hamilton
Jove

Not that you'd know it from how infrequently I've been updating this blog, but I've actually been reading quite a bit lately.  You might even say that I've been on a bender.  In the last few weeks, I've managed to crank through nine Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter novels.  At an average of about 300 pages per read, well, that's a lot of blood.

I'm not so sure what it is about these novels that keep drawing me in.  In some ways, they are similar to the Kelley Armstrong books that I read over Christmas -- each series is classified as paranormal/horror and each deals with a world where vampires, werecreatures, witches, warlocks, faeries and other "magical" ilk live alongside you and me.  The writing certainly isn't fabulous -- she's repeats text verbatim across the series and the storylines really aren't all that inventive.  Part of my interest, I think, is the Scarecrow and Mrs. King effect.  Remember that show?  You so wanted the two main characters to hook up and they never quite got it right.  Anita has that kind of relationship with a few gentlemen, uh, creatures in the series, so maybe that's the draw.  In any event, I will probably keep reading for awhile yet.  Hamilton started the series in the mid-90s, so I've got at least ten more books to go.

Two sociopaths out of five.

Up, Up, and Away

Every Lost Country
Steven Heighton
Knopf Canada

It has been weeks since I finished this novel.  I really would have gotten to it sooner, but work has been very hectic and I was more-or-less obsessed with the Tour de France.  It's hard to write about a serious book when you're shouting crazily at the television.  Oh, for those of  you that have been following along, my guys came in 18th and 68th respectively.  Go team!

Every Lost Country is a fictional story (based on a real event that occured in 2006) about a doctor/humanitarian who has signed up to provide medical support for a Canadian climbing expedition along the Tibet-Nepal border.  One morning, while most of the climbers are making their way down from another camp, the doctor and his daugher are drawn into an international incident when they try to assist some Tibetans who are fleeing the Chinese authorities.  Filming the incidint as part of the backstory for her documentary about the climb, a Chinese-Canadian woman is captured along with the doctor, his daughter and the hopeful refugees.  Their treatment by the Chinese, their eventual escape, and their terrifying journey across the bone-chilling slopes of the Himalayas is gripping -- so much so that the book was impossible to put down until I had read the last page.

If an action-packed plot and elegant writing isn't enough to lure you in, the book is also compelling because it is a highly moral story that, at times, reminds me of  a modern Everyman where characters are neither purely good nor purely evit.  Think Conrad meets morality play -- same vivid characterizations and intellectually challenging situtions -- all woven into a beautiful narrative that catches the reader off guard.  I'm not kidding -- you really do want to pick this up.  Four and half prayer flags out of five.

Guilty Pleasures Be Damned!

Guilty Pleasures
Laurell K. Hamilton
Jove

Well, if we're speaking of guilty pleasures, I don't know which to address first -- the book that is the subject of this week's entry or my sudden fixation with the two-wheeled warriors.  Oh hell -- I'm watching the replay of today's Tour de France coverage as I type this, so I might as well start with the cyclists. 

Holy smokes ... what a fascinating sport!  I'm not a huge television watcher, but I've suddenly become best friends with both my couch and the remote.  I even got up at 6:30 AM on Saturday so I could watch the race live.  I've yet decide if I think the riders are brilliant tacticians, Machiavellian strategists, or barking mad.  In any case, they are monsters and I just can't look away. 

Okay, enough of that ... on to another guilty pleasure.  I know I promised you some time ago that I would lay off the vampire novels.  Well, I hate to renege on a deal, but I was at the airport, I couldn't find anything to read and the oh-not-so-bookish clerk pulled Guilty Pleasures off the shelf and mumbled something that sounded like "favourite author."   Who am I to spurn a recommendation?  Guilty Pleasures turned out to be relatively entertaining and a little unconventional.  Anita Blake dabbles in the paranormal and is an accomplished animator who is paid to raise people from the dead.  She works for a man who is more interested in money than ethics, so it's probably a good that that Anita is a woman of integrity.  She also happens to be a survivor of a vampire attack and freelances for the St. Louis police department as a vampire tracker/slayer.  I know, right?  It doesn't get more outlandish, but I have to admit that it was kind of fun.

I liked this novel  because it defies convention.  Anita is not a perfect heroine.  She doesn't fall for the smooth talking and incredibly handsome vampire, she hangs out with assholes and doesn't judge, and she is fierce in a way that only a survivor can understand.  I'll be honest and tell you that I'm probably going to be reading another one of these novels if I'm stuck at an airport with nothing else to do.  And I'm going to secretly revel in it.  Three mindless zombies out of five.  Did I mention that there were zombies? ...

Criminal Minds

Crime Machine
Giles Blunt
Random House

Guess what?  I have a new addiction.  No, it's not any of the usual suspects (at my age, those would be meth, coke, booze or men.)  And no, it's not even books or candy.  Ready for it?  Deep breath -- I've become addicted to the Tour de France.  I know ... Just a few days ago I was telling all of you that I was going to get cracking and get back to blogging.  Forget about writing ... I'm not even reading!   I've plopped myself in front of the television every evening this week to watch the replay of a bunch of skinny dudes on bikes.  Where has this been all my life? 

So, when I haven't been either watching the spandex clad warriors or working like a maniac, I have managed to fit in a couple of chapters here and there  This week I was kept company by Detective John Cardinal of the Algonquin Bay police force.  What I really like about these novels (aside from the fact that I am familiar with a lot of locations) is the unpredictability and complexity of the plots.  Whodunits are never fun when you have them figured out in the first few chapters and I've found that Blunt usually keeps me guessing until the very end. 

In addition to the actual mystery in Crime Machine, the characters of John Cardinal and Lise Delorme are continuing to develop across the series.  I was dead certain in the last novel that with the death of his wife, Cardinal would turn to his partner for a little romance.  Blunt didn't really play it that way and I have found that very intriguing.  I might just have to come back whenever Cardinal surfaces again to find out where he's at.  I mean, he's no John Rebus, but he is interesting.  Three watching the detectives out of five.

PS ... About this whole TdF thing ...they're not all skinny dudes.  I quite like big Thor Hushovd.  Legs like tree trunks and a happy, happy smile.  I'm also cheering for the lone Canadian on tour.  Go Ryder!

Where has the time gone?

The Swan Thieves
Elizabeth Kostova
Little, Brown and Company

February?  I haven't written a post since February?  Holy schnitzel ... I guess it's time to get cracking!

Well, while I might not have been doing much blogging in the last few months, I have continued to read like a fiend.  Off the top of my head, I can't say that I've picked upanything that has been particularly worth sharing.  I'm still reading the odd Inspector Rebus novel and I must say that I've re-discovered a fondness for Sherlock Holmes.  My work colleagues and I are always up to our hips in data and I'm finding that both Homes and Watson provide me with timely, yet relevant witticisms to inflict upon them.  A few weeks ago, it was "It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data.  Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts."  I'm pretty sure my coworkers hate me some days.  Or at least hate my sense of humour.

Lately, my head has been choc-a-bloc full of art and ideas.  I've just returned from Italy and am still reeling from all the unbelievable things that I saw.  Amazing painting, sculpture, architecture, landscapes, food -- why does anyone ever leave?  It confounds me.  Anyway, while I was away, I picked up a copy of Elizabeth Kostova's The Swan Thieves.  It couldn't have been more perfect!  A beautiful, languorous novel about creativity, obsession, love, betrayal, passion and secrecy, Kostova takes her time developing the characters.  It's almost as if the she is revealing their layers of detail one brush stroke at a time.  Three impressionist readings out of five.

The Can Lit Project -- Mysterious Ways

A Delicate Storm
Blackfly Season
By the Time You Read This
Giles Blunt
Seal Books

One of my goals at the beginning of the year was to try to read more Canadian Literature.  How hard could that be, right?  Our country has produced some amazingly talented writers over the last hundred years and there are thousands of great books just waiting to be explored. I could absolutely get lost forever in the novels of Martel, Atwood, Ross, Davies, Blais, Galloway, Laurence, Richler ... you get the idea.

My goal, however, was a little more specific.  I wanted to read the books that I wouldn't find in the "Fiction and Literature" section of the bookstore.  That is to say, I want to read books outside of the Canadian literary canon.  In the past, I've made a pretty big dent in the Fantasy genre by consuming novels by Steven Erikson, Guy Gavriel Kay, Kelley Armstrong, and Charles deLint.  A few weeks ago, I decided to look for something in the mystery genre.  Enter Giles Blunt.

Set in Algonquin Bay, this series of novels focus on homicide detective John Cardinal and his sometimes partner Lise Delorme.  John, like my boyfriend John Rebus, is a complicated man.  He sensitive, single-minded, relentless, gentle, funny, caring, and very, very good at his job.  Blunt's writing is sharp, fast-paced, yet surprisingly detailed.  The best part is that his stories don't come across as formulaic which is why, I think, I was able to read three of his novels back-to-back without getting sick of the characters or the plots.  Maybe that's why he's an award-winner.  Three sliver daggers out of five.

Who doesn't like gifts?

The Gift of Rain
Tan Twan Eng
Weinstein Books

While it is true that I can still spend hours wandering through the aisles at a bookstore, it is not quite the experience that it once was.  Not only are independent booksellers getting harder to find (I'm VERY lucky in that I live within driving distance of The Bookshelf in Guelph,) but the cookie-cutter approach to the big box stores is more than a little depressing.  That said, I understand that it is the homogeneity of the business model that affords me such great discounts on the things I like to read.  It is a bit of a pickle, isn't it?

So, sometimes to escape the uniform browsing experience and still get a make-me-happy-on-the-inside discount, I purchase books online.  That, too, is fraught with issues in that I am now the recipient of all sorts of unwanted book recommendations.   "If you liked The Hunger Games, we think you'll love Twilight."  Oh please. When it comes to reading novels, I like to go old school and rely on the advice of my friends and loved ones.  The Gift of Rain, was one such book.  My friend Nigel recommended it toward the end of the summer.  I'm not sure why it took me so long to get around to reading it, but wow.  We've found our second 2011 candidate for the DES book of the year. 

The Gift of Rain is set in Malaysia and the bulk of the story takes place in and around the Second World War.  The main character, Phillip Hutton, is a 16 year old boy of mixed parentage (British/Chinese), who never seems to fit in.  One day, while the rest of his family is off London for an extended stay, Phillip meets a quiet, mysterious Japanese man.  As it turns out, Endo-san is renting some ocean front property from Phillip's father and the two solitary, isolated figures develop a relationship.  It doesn't take the reader long to figure out that Endo-san is a Japanese spy preparing the island for invasion.  It takes Phillip a little longer and when his epiphany comes, it is much too late. 

This is an epic story about love, betrayal, and loss and how each are just a matter of perspective.  Told using first-person narration and a series of flashbacks, this novel is incredibly beautiful and once you pick it up, you'll have trouble putting it down.  Five zen moments out of five.

Is there a doctor in the house?

Cutting for Stone
Abraham Verghese
Vintage Canada

Have you ever read one of those books that just seems to draw you so far into its world that you can't think about anything else?  I had that experience a couple of weeks ago while reading Abraham Verghese's Cutting for Stone.  I started it one night over supper at my local hangout.  Halfway through the first pint, I was hooked.  When the bartender asked if I wanted another, I declined and switched to water.  I knew I was going to have a late night.

The story itself focuses on Marion Stone -- who, along with his conjoined twin, Shiva, was born in an Ethiopian mission hospital during the latter part of Haile Selassie's reign.  The boys' mother, an Indian nun named Mary Joseph Praise, dies in childbirth.  The boys' father, a British surgeon with questionable social skills and more baggage than a cargo hold, goes mad with grief and abandons the babies upon their mother's death. The newborns aren't unwanted for long as another mission doctor is immediately drawn to them and decides to become their substitute mother. She, in turn, shanghais a colleague to assist with their care and not surprisingly, the two of them fall in love. Oh -- and this all happens within the first few chapters.  Is it any wonder that I couldn't put it down?

Weaving in and out of the narrative, and as influential as any character in the text, is the novel's setting.  I learned more about Ethiopian and Eritrean history and culture from this story than from any news magazine or television piece.  The Ethiopia of Verghese's novel is definitely somewhere that I'd want to visit.  Whether it exists anymore is immaterial as I will definitely revisit the land through the pages of this novel.  Cutting for Stone gets five Hippocratic Oaths out of five.

Don't get it right, just get it written.

If the title of this post sounds familiar, it's because I stole it from James Thurber -- the famous American writer, cartoonist, and all-around wit.  When we left off in November, I was contemplating the end of this blog.  My posts (at least from my perspective) seemed to be getting stale and formulaic and I convinced myself that I wasn't enjoying the writing.

As it turns out, the hiatus was good for me.  I discovered that I really missed talking to you guys and upon reflection, it wasn't the writing that was boring me.  Rather, it was the fact that I was in a constant state of worry that my entries wouldn't be entertaining, well-received, or, quite frankly, any good.  Sigh.  Ego is a terrible thing, isn't it?

Anyway, I learned on the break that like my friend Byron, (yes, I still read poetry), if I don't write, I go a little nutty.  I mean, let's face it, I am not currently engaged in a profession where being creative is a core competency of my role.  And, while I am a great fan of "the arts," my attempts at painting might be mistaken for cave drawings from prehistoric France.  As for music, well, it was a good thing I broke my arm in the tenth grade and had to give up my budding career as a tenor saxophonist.  Did I mention that my parents issued earplugs to the entire neighbourhood? Um, yeah.

So, that leaves me with my love of words.   To satiate this desire, I went on a bit of a reading bender over the last couple of months and I'm not sure that I will be able to catch up.  In the comments area of this entry, I'll post a list of the books that I did read and if you want me to do a retroactive review of any of them, just let me know.

Finally, I wanted to say thank you to everyone who reached out and asked me to come back.  I honestly had no idea that so many of you regularly read this blog and use it to make your own book selections. Your kind (and sometimes pleading) words are very much appreciated. Thank you.

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