Not so Beautiful Music

Music of the Primes

Marcus du Sautoy

Harper Collins

So, I think it is time for another heartfelt admission from the D-E-S. As much as it pains me to say it, I can be a terrible procrastinator. I know that some of you reading this are snorting in disbelief, but it's true. Very occasionally, I put things off until they pile up and loom over me like a darkling cloud. Lately, my procrastination has involved two things -- getting myself sorted out for my upcoming move and sitting down to write the blog entry related to Music of the Primes. My move date is, gulp, Wednesday, so I had to get my asterisk in gear today to finalize the logistics. Since I had some time to spare, I figured I should get this task over with as well. Here goes nothing ...

The Music of the Primes is a book about math. More specifically, it explores the magic of prime numbers and in particular, takes a good look at the Riemann Hypothesis -- one of mathematics most famous, and still unsolved, hypotheses. If I were to pick a single word to describe this book, however, it would be "dissonant". The parts of the work dealing specifically with prime number and number theory were, to a lay person, very engaging. The author also attempts to provide a brief overview of the history of mathematics and here is where the book, for me, starts to fall apart and loses my interest. Some of my friends absolutely raved about this text and maybe, just maybe, my expectations were just a little too high. Two whole numbers (or is that integers?) out of five.

Um, Neil Diamond?

Forever in Blue -- The Fourth Summer of the Sisterhood
Ann Brashares
Delacorte Press

So, I was sitting at my desk looking up quotes about autumn for this entry (don't ask) when it hit me. Forever in Blue. Travelling Pants. Forever in Blue Jeans. Neil Diamond. Of course! The author was making an oblique reference to the 70s song lyrics that provided her with the inspiration to come up with the Travelling Pants idea in the first place. Um ... yeah. I think I've been watching too many Gilmore Girls episodes lately. Call me Kirk.

Forever in Blue is the conclusion to the four book Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants series. The girls have made it through their first year of college and instead of spending the summer together, each of them heads off in separate directions in search of themselves. The pants (a pair of jeans that impossibly fits all four of the girls distinct figures) are a talisman of sorts that get passed from girl to girl and make good things happen. This year, the pants are stolen and the girls head to Greece in search of their magic. Well, they don't find the pants, but they do reconnect with each other in a way.

On it's own, this book wasn't very good. It was trite, predictable, and the characters, while becoming slightly more self-aware, didn't really grow. Read in conjunction with the other three novels in the series, however, Forever in Blue ties up some loose ends and satisfies my expectations in terms of where the larger narrative was going. One pair of cutoffs out of five.

Ollie Ollie Oxen Free!

Hide and Seek

Ian Rankin

Orion Fiction

My new boyfriend is such a complicated guy. I'll be honest -- the emotional (okay, mushy) part of me thinks that we're soulmates. He listens to Radio Three, he's got books strewn all over his apartment, and his commitment issues make Mt. Kilimanjaro look like a drumlin. Curiously, those are all traits that appeal greatly to this thirty-something girl.

The logical part of my brain whispers something different. It says "careful there, poptart. He's a cop. Worse -- he's a homicide detective. Can you really handle the secrets, odd hours, and sketchy people?" I'll give you an example. The other night, John had invited me over to, uh, hang out and there was a knock at his door. It was a girl from one of the cases he's been working on. Apparently, one of her junkie friends overdosed recently and both he (the deceased,) and now she, thinks he was murdered. Of course, John invited her in, gave her a meal (accompanied by some of the wine I had just bought) and offered her the couch to crash. The next morning, I overheard him on the phone with one of his work-colleagues and they think there might be some kind of satantic/ritual angle to the whole thing. It gives me the shudders just thinking about it.

So, I'm not really sure that Mr. Rebus is the guy for me. Maybe I should just break up with him and get it over with. Sigh. I don't know -- there are parts of him that I think I could get to like. A lot. And then there are those other bits (did I mention the drinking?) that make me think he's just Mr. Right Now. If you were to ask me to rate my chances of staying with him, I'd say that it's about 50/50 -- a two and a half out of five, if you will. I'll keep you posted and let you know how it works out.

Phlegmish Thoughts

The Flanders Panel
Arturo Pérez-Reverte
A Harvest Book / Harcourt, Inc.

Composing this week's blog post has not been an easy task and I've practically worn out the delete key with all the false starts. The problem is that I don't know how to discuss this book in a way that would make sense to someone who hasn't read it. The basic premise is as follows: Julia, an art restorer living in Madrid, has been asked to work on a 15th century Flemish painting so that the owner can put it up for auction. While she is restoring the work, she discovers an inscription that the painter had hidden under an additional layer of paint. Figuring out the meaning of the inscription would add significantly to the value of the painting and Julia decides to solve the mystery contained within the panel.

Halfway through the novel, Julia solves the riddle and structurally, I think this is where the book starts to fall apart. You see, while Julia has been trying to figure out the whodunit in the panel, a couple of her art-world colleagues are murdered. We are meant to think that these present-day murders are somehow linked to the murder mystery referred to in the painting, but even to a non-discerning reader, it's too big of a stretch. In fact, while the last half of the book is beautifully written and is packed full of allusions to great literary works, fascinating chess moves, and some interesting philosophical discussions, it fails because the plot just doesn't make sense.

I desperately wanted this book to be better than it was and if I'm honest, I have to admit that sections of the novel were absolutely brilliant. Sadly, though, I guess the old saying isn't always true -- the whole isn't always greater than the sum of its parts. Two beguiling rooks out of five.

Ran Away and Joined the Circus

Water for Elephants

Sara Gruen

Algonquin Books

Last weekend, when I was hanging in the MoFo (aka Mount Forest, Ontario, population 5121), I decided to wander over to my aunt's place to sit on her front porch, drink one or two of her beers, and read my book. As I was heading up the street, I found that I couldn't resist temptation and I engaged in the dreaded "walk and read." One stumble, a narrow miss with a failed poop n' scoop, and a couple of amused pedestrians later, I finally made it to my destination. I couldn't help myself ... Water for Elephants was just too good to put down!

Set sometime during the Depression, the novel opens with Jacob Jankowski just learning that his parents have been killed in an automobile accident. Despairing of the knowledge that he literally has nothing to go home to, Jacob walks out of his finals at Cornell and hops a train heading west. Much to his surprise, he finds out that he has jumped smack into the middle of a circus troupe -- the Benzini Brothers Most Spectacular Show on Earth.

This story is very compelling and engages the reader on a number of fronts. For the romantic souls in the crowd, there's a love triangle that involves Jacob, the beautiful Marlena and her "paragon schnitzophonic" husband, August. For the history buff, the story is replete with detail regarding the American circus trains, the state of prohibition, and the speak-easy subculture of the 30s. And finally, for the animal lovers out there, one of the central characters in the novel is Rosie, the Polish-speaking elephant who becomes the star of the show. I couldn't put this book down and I'll bet that you won't be able to either. I'm confident that it will end up on the D-E-S selection list for Book of the Year. Water for Elephants gets four side-show attractions out of five.

Tripping the Life Fantastic

A Scanner Darkly

Philip K. Dick

Vintage

Don't let the cover shot of Keanu Reeves put you off -- this novel is definitely worth reading.

Set in a dystopic Orange County sometime in the late 20th century, A Scanner Darkly tells the story of Bob Arctor, a small-time drug dealer/burnout who is addicted to a drug called Substance D. Unknown to the junkies that share his house, he is also Agent Fred -- an undercover police officer who has been assigned to follow Bob Arctor and to determine where he gets his supply. Fred has the authorities plant recording devices in Bob's home and Bob/Fred essentially narcs on himself. Confused yet? We're just getting started ...

There is so much packed into this novel, it is hard to know where to start. In some respects, the text reads a little like Kerouac's On the Road. The hip talk, the overt misogyny of some of the characters, and the drug-fuelled subculture all reminded me a little bit of the morally corrupt, but ever so interesting Dean Moriarty. Unlike Dean, the main character in this novel, Bob/Fred, is a good man travelling down a bad path not necessarily of his own choosing. Dick goes to great pains to show the layers of manipulation that has Bob/Fred becoming a junkie. Then again, maybe becoming an addict is more of a personal choice and Dick was making some kind of comment about society, scapegoating, and/or peer pressure. So hard to know. Three hits of acid out of five.

More Grit Lit


Troy -- Fall of Kings
David and Stella Gemmell
Transworld

I have to admit that I started this book with some trepidation. As documented somewhere else on this blog (oh, if only I could figure out how to link to previous posts!), I very much enjoyed the first two installments of Gemmell's series. To recap briefly, the author takes familiar characters from Greek mythology and mashes up heroes, gods and events to create a fabulous retelling of the Trojan War.

Sadly, Gemmell passed away before he could complete the last book in the trilogy and I was more than a little worried that his principal researcher and wife, Stella, wouldn't be up to the task. Boy ... was I wrong! In my opinion, Fall of Kings was even better than Shield of Thunder. There was still enough testosterone in the writing to make the book have that gritty appeal (hell -- my dad read this book!) and the story was jammed full of admirable men and dastardly villains.

I could probably go on about this book for quite some time. But I won't. I will, however, issue a word of caution. If you read this series (and I highly recommend that you do), don't break out your Bulfinch. The Gemmells definitely took some huge liberties with the traditional Greek stories and mythology purists might actually be horrified. No matter. Fall of Kings was fast- paced, engaging, and even a little suspenseful. No mean feat when the reader already knows/anticipates how it's going to end. Three winged chariots out of five.

Despair Has Its Own Calm

The Historian
Elizabeth Kostova
Little Brown

Looking back over the past few entries, I realize that I've been in a tremendous rut. Please accept my sincere apologies for boring you all to death with formulaic, lame and often insipid writing. I can offer no excuses. Hopefully this week's post won't suck. (Read on kids ... pun definitely intended.)

The Historian is an intricate, well-crafted novel that is, on one level, a modern reworking of the Dracula myth. At the beginning of the story, we are introduced to the narrator who, as a young girl, discovered a mysterious vellum-bound book in her father's library . Overcome by curiosity, she approaches her parent and asks about the book's history. At first, her father is reluctant to discuss it -- but she persists and eventually he shares the book's tale. The story is so horrific -- so dangerous, in fact -- that the father can only relate it in bits and pieces and it is over the course of a few years that the narrator learns that the book is tied to a great evil -- Vlad Ţepeş of Wallachia. Vlad, it seems, is still alive and the narrator's father is on a quest to find Dracula and to figure out a way to kill him.

On another level, the novel is really about the idea of history and how cultural, social, political and even religious narratives impact our present and future lives. This novel is rich in historical detail and I learned quite a great deal about both medieval and cold war Eastern Europe. I also received an important lesson in early Western/Islamic relations. Reading The Historian has encouraged me to do some research on the Ottoman Empire, the fall of Constantinople, and the blend of Eastern/Western cultures in Turkey, Bulgaria and Hungary. Any novel that makes you want to read history doesn't suck ... even if it is about Dracula. Four impaled Wallachians out of five.

Summer Reading

The Hollow
Nora Roberts
Jove Books

Way back in high school, one of the best parts about the summer was going up to the cottage with a stack of books. When the weather was cooperative, I would literally spend hours drifting in a floating chair tied to the end our dock. Since I didn't want to ruin any of the books that had made the trip with me, my dad made me a "reading plank" that he affixed to the top of the pontoon arms. Attached to the base of the chair was a mesh bag that would drift alongside me. As a kid, it contained juice boxes and pop, as I got older, it kept beer and bottled water. Sigh. I miss those days.

So, why the stroll down memory lane? Well, I'm not ashamed to admit that a good number of the books that I read in those summers could be classified as trashy romances. In fact, two of my aunts would bring up plastic shopping bags full of Harlequins, Regencies, and Silhouettes to be read by anyone who had the time. Happily, I had a lot of time and I would bounce between Dickens and some torrid romance without giving it a second thought.

While not exactly torrid, Robert's The Hollow is definitely a fine example of a good summer read. It had some sex, a little wistfulness, a bit of intrigue and a happy-ish ending. As a follow up to Blood Brothers (the first novel in the trilogy and previously reviewed on this blog,) I'd say that Roberts' accomplished her main objectives -- she advanced the plot, had another budding romance unfold and not so subtlety foreshadowed the next novel. 2.5 floating chairs out of 5.

Mystery Man

Knots & Crosses
Ian Rankin
Orion Books

When I started this blog, one of my primary objectives was to read outside of my comfort zone. Up until a couple of years ago, I wasn't an adventurous reader. Sure -- I owned all sorts of works that you'd find on a grad school syllabus, but aside from the occasional romance, there was nothing on my shelves that remotely resembled "popular" fiction. In fact, you could say that I was a classic EMBS -- English Major Book Snob. Happily, I'm recovering now, but only because you guys (my friends and some loyal blog readers) have taken me beyond the "fiction" section of the bookstore and encouraged me to read other things.

Knots & Crosses, for example, was recommended to me by my BFF Pete. He's been reading Rankin for quite some time and noted two things that have struck him in particular about the series. The first is that the main character, Detective Sergeant John Rebus is a rumpled, imperfect, complicated, yet wholly likeable guy. Peter actually described him as a "good" man and that's not a term that he uses lightly -- even when talking about a fictional character. The other point of interest is that when you start reading the series from the beginning (Knots & Crosses is set in 1985), Rebus exists in a policing world that is essentially still pre-technology. Curiously, the lack of "modernity" didn't seem to date the story in any way and it was that, more than anything else, that sucked me in. So much so, that I was off to the bookstore this afternoon to buy book number two.

I think Rebus and I are going to become friends before all of this is over. I certainly need someone that I can count on in times of trouble and he seems like just the man to fit the bill. Three point five good guys out of five.

I'm 2 Old 4 this Shiz

Londonstani
Gautam Malkani
Harper Collins

When I was growing up, I lived in a small town that wasn't exactly what you'd consider ethnically diverse. While we were less than an hour from the city, you could count the number of non-white families on one hand. One of those families, the Fleckers, lived across the street and I spent a tonne of time hanging out in their home. Mr. Flecker was brilliant, a bit eccentric, and always laughing. Mrs. Flecker, by far the best hugger and most gentle spirit on the block, was a schoolteacher and activist. I loved discovering her latest cause via the articles that she'd cut from the paper and post on her fridge. I guess on some level I knew that they weren't "like me", but they were part of the fabric of my youth and and I loved them.

One day, on a visit home from grad school, I pulled into the driveway and waved at Mr. Flecker who was out watering his plants. It was like I was suddenly struck by lightening. I rushed into the house and in an astonished voice cried "OH MY GOD. Mr. Flecker is Indian!" My mother just looked at me and calmly said "Yes, honey, he is. What did you think?" I have to say, that until that precise moment, I had never given it a thought. Up until that morning, he was just Mr. Flecker -- the nice man who used to rummage in his desk to give me a present whenever I wandered over. What had changed in me that I suddenly noticed that he was brown? I'm still searching for the answer to that question and quite honestly, it was a defining moment in my life.

Gautam Malkani's novel, Londonstani, also poses some questions about culture, class, community, family and relationships. Written in an idiom/language that is as complex as the characters are stereotypes, the book explores the Indian "sub culture" in contemporary London and in particular, in the mostly Indian borough of Hounslow. If you can handle the combination of txt msg, Panjabi, and gangsta-speak, this book is well worth reading. The ideas that it posits about cultural (mis)appropriation and Bling Bling economics are particularly interesting. And, bruv, b on da look out for da killa twist at de end, in't. Three point five bhangra beats out of five.

Uh, Please Stand By

To Wed a Wicked Prince

Jane Feather

Simon & Schuster

Now, before you all castigate me for reading yet another crappy romance, let me just say that lately, I've had the attention span of a tsetse fly. Prior to picking up this (uh, is there a nice word for piece of shite?) gem, I had actually started Londonstani by Gautam Malkani. Awesome book, but the idiomatic dialogue (part gangsta, part Brit, part South Asian) makes for slow going and I just don't have the time to get into a good reading groove. I know, I know -- it sounds like I'm rationalizing, right? Well, let's just say that if it takes me over a week to read a trashy romance, we are not in Kansas anymore.

So, back to the book. I'm willing to acknowledge that I was an inattentive reader and that I actually skipped over entire sections of this novel (how many descriptions of well-appointed rooms or riding habits can one person take?) And I probably wasn't in the most generous frame of mind when it came to assessing the plot. Yes, it was shallow -- girl meets boy/prince, prince is involved in a plot to assassinate the tsar of Russia and lies to girl, boy and girl fight about the lies and eventually make up -- but it did exist. I cannot, however, find any excuse that can explicate the sheer wretchedness of the writing. Let's hope that Jane Feather is a pseudonym. Honestly, I wouldn't want to admit to having authored this particular story. In fact, I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I even read it. Minus two prinnys out of five.

A Bleak House

A Thousand Splendid Suns
Khaled Hosseini
Bloomsbury

If I were to ask you list five attributes that characterize the "perfect read", what would they be? I've been spending a lot of time lately thinking about what appeals to me and I've discovered that there are some relatively specific criteria that I apply when deciding whether or not I enjoy a text. While I happily acknowledge that the act of reading is usually a very phenomenological, often personal experience, I thought it might interest some of you to know what's considered a good read by the D-E-S. Here goes:

1. Back to basics. For me, the perfect read usually has a strong plot, interesting subtext(s) and characters that show some kind of "real" growth throughout the course of the novel.
2. Lyrical descriptions. While I can appreciate a stark economy of words, I'm a sucker for a well constructed turn of phrase that invokes my senses and makes me feel the text.
3. An absent author. I HATE literature that is overtly didactic and honestly, I don't really care what the author thinks. Let me piece it together by what the characters say, do, observe -- don't whack me over the head with it.
4. Layers of narration. Books that have stories within stories and multiple narrators almost always grab my interest. I think that why I like Fantasy so much -- the view is always shifting.
5. Another world. When I can close my eyes and see myself in the world that the author describes, that's when I know I'm reading a good book.

In case you were wondering, I decided to do a "top five" this week because Hosseini's book is so amazing that, well, I just can't write about it. It's too intimidating. Set in the streets of Kabul, the novel tells the story of two Afghani women, separated by a generation, who live through their country's incessant turmoil -- from the overthrowing of the monarchy, to the war against the Soviets, to the eventual rule of the Taliban. Part history, part social commentary, part love story, A Thousand Splendid Suns is, in a word, unforgettable. Please read it.

Down by the Bay

The Ladies' Lending Library

Janice Kulyk Keefer

Harper Collins

I'm not sure what any of you are like in terms of your book buying habits, but I always seem to have more novels on my shelves than I could possibly hope to read within a given period. Occasionally, it makes me feel so guilty that I place a temporary ban on the bookstore in an attempt to whittle down the queue. The subject of this week's blog entry had been sitting in the "to be read" pile for months and from the title, I thought it was going to be a bit of a snoozer. Happily I can report that I couldn't have been more wrong!

The Ladies' Lending Library tells the story of a group of immigrant women who spend their summers with their children on the shores of Georgian Bay. During the week, the women supervise the kids, gossip, read trashy romances, and get everything ready for their husbands to join them at their respective cottages on the weekend. Set in the early 60s, the book deals with all sorts of themes -- love, connectedness, assimilation, independence, individuality and passion. In fact, the subtext of this novel -- the tensions between the immigrant and first generation Canadian experience -- is very similar to what was explored in the Lewycka's A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian. Both are perfect candidates for a thinking woman's book club. Three sun-kissed days out of five.

A Girl Named George

The Witch of Portobello

Paulo Coelho

Harper Perennial

So, one of the things that I really like about Paulo Coelho's writing is that he's unashamedly spiritual (please note that in his case, spiritual does not equate to crackpot.) Frequently, I find that his characters uncannily express how I'm feeling about myself and the world at the precise time that I am reading his texts.

The Witch of Portobello is basically a novel about self-definition. The story is told from a number of points of view and Coelho uses an interesting narrative device to relate the main character's story. We never actually hear from Athena directly -- the novel is set up as a series of transcribed interviews where people talk about how she has impacted/changed their lives by observing how she lived her own.

In terms of themes, this is a typical Coelho offering as it examines the ideas of courage, love, joy, passion, self-acceptance and sacrifice. Athena is definitely a Warrior of the Light and like the heroes from The Pilgrimage and The Alchemist, there is a lot that we can learn from being witness to her journey. Three spiritual guides out of five.

Only the Shadow Knows

Shadowplay
Tad Williams
DAW

As I write this, I’m sitting at the gate in LHR waiting to board a flight. While I haven’t been travelling too much as of late, I am still managing to put in enough time at the airport to get some serious reading done. For this particular trip, I actually broke one of my cardinal rules of travel and brought along a ginormous 600+ pager. Yeah, yeah, -- not exactly a short haul friendly tome. On an overseas flight (where I can, ahem, check luggage), it makes the space argument a little less compelling, and frankly, this one was definitely worth the room in the carry on.

Shadowplay is Williams’ second book of the Shadowmarch trilogy. If you recall, I reviewed the first book for one of my initial entries for this blog (don’t go back and read it – WAY too long). While I really liked the opening effort, I think that the second instalment lived up to (and maybe even exceeded) the standards of the first. From the moment I picked it up, I didn’t really want to do anything but read. So what if I travelled a few thousand miles to go to the office this week? Work schmerk.

Book Two of the series picks up right where the last book left off. Unlike a lot of serialized fiction, Williams makes the assumption that the readers have been following along and very little time is wasted summarizing the plot. As for the content, it’s the usual fantasy fare -- anthropomorphic creatures, battles, magic and death. Really – what’s not to love? Three fellowship rings out of five.

Anything But

The Big Sleep

Raymond Chandler

Vintage Crime/Black Lizard

Okay, so I've got to come clean. Deep breath ... I'm addicted to detective novels. There ... I said it and it hardly even hurt. Of course, I'm blaming it all on an evil, yet "well-intentioned" friend. Last summer when I was dying for a good book, Russ recommended Chandler's The Big Sleep. Unfortunately, the local bookstore didn't have it and I picked up The Lady in the Lake instead. I totally loved that novel, but believe it or not, this one was even better.

Like the other Marlowe book, The Big Sleep is set in and around Los Angeles in the late 30s. The cagey and unspeakably sexy hero, Philip Marlowe, has been hired by an aging oil tycoon to find out who has been blackmailing one of his wayward daughters. There are more twists in this plot than a mountain road has curves, and while I will admit to finding it a bit of a stretch at times, the writing was so engaging that I didn't really care. Chandler possesses a grim economy of words that is both disconcerting and delightful. His more than slightly misogynistic descriptions of women are especially wonderful and for those of you who are (un)lucky enough to have me as an IM contact, you might have noticed that you were treated to an entire week of politically incorrect Marlowisms.

Oh yeah ... if you haven't figured it out, the title of this week's entry relates to the title of the book. It was anything but a big sleep --in fact, I couldn't put it down. Four RedBulls out of five.

Working Girl

The Observations
Jane Harris
Faber and Faber

I have to apologize to my regular readers for not updating the blog the past couple of weeks. There really isn't a good excuse. Admittedly, part of me is still thinking about The Book Thief, but I've also been crazy busy at work, getting frustrated by my diet/workout schedule, looking around for a new place to live, and spending a significant amount of time writing email. I can normally multi-task with the best of them, but really -- I've been pooped.

The other part of the problem was the subject of this week's entry -- Harris' The Observations. I can't think of another way to say it, so I'm just going to be blunt. This book completely sucked. It could be that my expectations were too high. In picking it up off the table (I got it a few weeks ago when I was over in the UK) I was drawn in by the comparisons to characters such as Moll Flanders and Becky Sharp. I loved both of those books and was really looking forward to a similar read. So that was my first mistake.

I might have been able to live with the flat characterizations had the book told a more interesting story. It's been awhile since I've thoroughly savaged a text, but Harris' narrative was entirely predictable. No such thing as subtle foreshadowing or plot twists in this effort. One vituperative Victorian out of five.

It is certain that stealing nourishes courage, strength, skill, tact ...

The Book Thief
Markus Zusak
Black Swan

I must have been about ten or so when my mother decided I was mature enough to understand, and therefore read, The Diary of Anne Frank. Up to that point, the war hadn't been discussed much in my house. I grew up knowing that both of my grandfathers had "fought for our country", but being a child of the 70s, I didn't really have any context for what that meant. Reading Anne's story completely changed my life. I became obsessed with the narratives of the Second World War and in particular, I developed an unhealthy interest in the Holocaust.

The main character in The Book Thief, Liesel Meminger, reminds me a great deal of Anne Frank. Set in a small town just outside of Munich, the novel tells the story of a little girl who is sent out to live with a working-class foster family just prior to the start of the war. In some ways, the books is a classic bildungsroman as the reader is witness to Liesel's journey from young girl to young adult. In other ways, though, the story is about larger themes -- war, resistance, inequality, literature, love, and kindness. Every page of this novel (curiously narrated by Death) deserves to be read and once you pick it up, you won't be able to put it down. Four stolen books out of five.

Hardboiled ... and Then Some

The Maltese Falcon
Dashiell Hammett
Vintage Crime/Black Lizard

We met in a an out-of-the-way bar just off O'Farrell and Mason. I was on assignment writing a special for the Examiner, Sam was working a case. He came over to my table, stopped in front of me and said "Sweetheart, can you be a pal and talk to me like we know each other?" I shrugged my acquiescence and gestured toward a chair on the opposite side of the table. Sam quirked a thickish brow and surveyed me top-to-toe with those yellow-grey eyes. He signaled to the barman, sat down next to me and leaned in. "You look like a dame," he said with a languid grin, "Who can appreciate a drink. Tell me your story to help me pass the time." Sigh. If I had only known what I was getting into.

Sam, it seems, did not approach me by chance. I was in San Francisco chasing down leads on a stolen artifact related to the Templars. I didn't know it at the time, but Sam had been engaged to find the same object d'art by one of my paper's chief rivals. All I had was a story at stake -- for Sam, it was decidedly more personal. The night before we met, his business partner had been murdered and it was somehow all tangled up in the missing statue. Sam was charming and sexy, and while I was falling in love, he was pumping me for information. I should have figured him for a private eye the moment he walked in. He had that don't fuck with me, lone-wolf look that I've been attracted to before.

In the end, we both got what we wanted. The statue turned out to be a fake and for the most part, the bad guys got away. After a few days, I said goodbye to San Francisco as I was hot on the trail of another story. As for Sam, well, I have a feeling that I'll be back to visit him someday soon. He was an interesting man and I'm always up for a little murder and mayhem. And oh, just in case you were wondering -- the drink that Sam ordered? It was a Manhattan. Best damn drink I've ever had -- I'd give it five stars out of five.