The Bard and Bull

Shakespeare
Bill Bryson
Harper Collins

No, the title for this week's post is not the name of my local pub (although it is kinda catchy.) "The Bard" (for those of you who have been living under a rock your entire lives) is an oft-used moniker for one of the greatest English language writers the world has ever produced--William Shakespeare.

Part of me wonders what Bryson was thinking. Why would someone knowingly write yet another biography about one of the most researched subjects/authors in all of English literature? What new, interesting and enlightening scholarship could he possibly have to add? Well, the joy in this book is that Bryson resists conjecture and sticks only to the facts. Yes, it is a slim volume, but what he does write makes for an elegant, accessible, and entertaining read.

Did you know, for example, that of the six recorded signatures by Shakespeare, not one of them is spelled the same? Were you aware that the words "abstemious, antipathy, ... lonely, leapfrog, zany, well-read, and countless others - including countless!" were first found in Shakespeare's works? Bryson manages to take an over exposed dude like Shakespeare and reinvigorate the subject while leaving the reader amused. Three kingdoms for a horse, er, I mean out of five.

Re-Branded

My Booky Wook

Russell Brand

Hodder

As mentioned a number of blog posts ago, I'm not a huge fan of the memoir. I think there's something dishonest about a genre that purports itself to be "non-fiction" when we all know that it is next to impossible to accurately remember events without the cloudy lens of perspective. That said, when I do read some kind of autobiography, it is usually of the train wreck variety. A few months ago, I read the latest offering from Augusten Burroughs. Funny and only slightly disturbing. This week's subject matter, British comedian Russell Brand, is infinitely more so in both categories. Hilarious and, well, more than just a little bit shocking.

For those of you who aren't familiar with Russell Brand, I would say that he's one of the UK's top comedians. His brand of humour is hard to describe, but he is very articulate, extremely witty and often very silly. What sets him apart is that he doesn't seem to come with boundaries and will do pretty much anything to get the laugh. He did, after all, get fired from MTV for showing up to work the day after 9/11 dressed as Osama bin Laden. He's also a man who has found the inner resolve to work through a number of addictions and his memoir, My Booky Wook, walk us through his life up to the point where he gets clean.

This book has often been described as laugh-out-loud funny. I decided to put that claim to the test and every time I caught myself chuckling, I put a big fat check mark in the margin. There's at least 10 ticks in my copy and would have been more had I also been keeping track of the smiles and occasional snorts. Three outrageous stand up acts out of five.

I'm So Done with Vampires ...

Lonely Werewolf Girl
Martin Millar
Soft Skull Press

Over the past few months, life for the D-E-S has been a little chaotic. Aside from the occasional stolen moment, I haven't had a lot of down time and one of the things that I've longed to do is spend an entire day reading a really good book. This past Sunday, the Powers that Be presented me with the perfect opportunity - I was alone in a foreign country, I had completed enough of my work to avoid feeling guilty, and I had two (count 'em two!) books that looked like they might turn out to be a solid, friendly companion.

From the moment I picked up Lonely Werewolf Girl, I was completely entranced. I mean, who's kidding who? Werewolves are usually depicted in Fantasy Lit as brutish, furry, and well, mostly uninteresting. Imagine how engaged I was when the characters in LWG were all complicated, gritty and incredibly evocative. Take the heroine, Kalix, for example. She is a seventeen year old Scottish werewolf who has been kicked out of the family clan for attacking (and severely injuring) her father. Living in the alleyways of London, Kalix, while achingly beautiful, is a cutter and an anorexic who believes that no one loves her. Her older sister, Thrix, is a London clothing designer who counts among her clients the otherworldly Malveria -- Queen of the Fire elementals (and quite a character besides.) Kalix's two cousins and fellow family outcasts, Beauty and Delicious, are wannabe rock stars who have travelled so far down the road to hedonism that they have forgotten how to turn into werewolves. Add a battle for the head of the werewolf clan between Kalix's brothers and we've got enough drama to fill an entire day.

Lonely Werewolf Girl was totally worth the read-a-thon. I loved it so much that I flew through the 558 pages in less than twelve hours. That included time off for good behaviour (eating, peeing and going to the gym!) LWG gets four howling death-machines out of five.

Fallen Stars & Faerie Tales

Stardust
Harper Collins
Neil Gaiman

In the spirit of full disclosure, I should tell you that I have a mild crush on Neil Gaiman. It's not like I've progressed to the threshold of stalker, or anything, but I really do think he's pretty groovy. His blog is awesome, his hair is spectacular, and his writing makes me forget the world around me. What else do I need to be happy?

Stardust is the story of a young man, Tristran Thorn who falls in love with a beautiful girl. While watching the night sky one evening, the pair witness a falling star. Tristran offers to retrieve the star as proof of his love for the young maid, she grants him permission to set out on his quest, and off he goes into the land of Faerie.

What I enjoyed most about this novel was how Gaiman takes the standard conventions of the romantic epic and tweaks them in such a way that you're not sure if he is taking the piss, or if he is being genuine in his appreciation for the rules of the genre. In the tradition of the Brothers Grimm, Gaiman's fairy tale isn't full of sweetness and light and some of the scenes are actually quite violent. As always, Mr. Gaiman was able to transport me into a different world if only for a few hours. Three and a half magic spells out of five.

I Love a Rainy Night

The Thirteenth Tale
Diane Setterfield
Anchor Canada

Yesterday was almost perfect. When I woke up, I put on the radio, made a nest of the covers on my bed and snuggled back in for an extra half hour of sheer laziness. Once I finally roused myself, I randomly grabbed a book off the nightstand, popped it into my bag and headed out the door for the day.

I started reading The Thirteenth Tale at the hair salon. It next came out of my bag over lunch at the mall. I really meant to go for a run in the afternoon, but instead I found myself curled up on the couch unable to put the book down. At suppertime, I had to tear myself away to meet my friend Janice for dinner. I considered bringing it along in case she was late and even went so far as to put it in my purse. I took it out at the last minute -- didn't want to seem rude.

When I got back to the house, I contemplated watching some television or putting in a DVD. That thought lasted, oh, maybe thirty seconds. Instead, I took up the book and read until it was done. It was totally worth it. In fact, I liked the book so much that I'm not going to tell you what it was about. It stands a pretty good chance of being the D-E-S book of the year and I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise. Four melodramatic twists out of five.

Apocalypse Now?

An Illustrated Short History of Progress
Ronald Wright
Anansi

This poor book has been through a lot in the past few weeks. I started reading it at the last Argo home game where, in a moment of mad cheering, I spilled some pop on it and dropped it on the floor of the stands. Gross. Good thing you can use hand sanitizer on a book cover.

It then accompanied me on a road trip to Michigan where it was exposed to what I can only imagine to be the somewhat toxic fumes of a NASCAR race. (Um yeah, I'm pretty sure I was the only fan there who had a book in her purse.) Some of the tire debris actually got stuck to the pages. We were only a few rows up from the track and we all looked like grease monkeys before the afternoon was out.

This book was also my in-car companion on moving day. Happily, my friend Peter rescued it for me from what was left of Finnigan after I rolled it on the 427 (a major expressway in Toronto for those of you from out-of-town.) Apparently, the poor thing flew from my purse and landed in a heap of shattered glass and gum drops. The corners are a little dog-eared, but it wasn't that much worse for wear. And neither am I.

So the question is ... after going through all that was it a good read? The answer is definitely yes. An Illustrated Short History of Progress is a cautionary tale that advises us to learn from our mistakes and look to the burn out of past civilizations in order to help us avoid our own demise. It's not the most uplifting read, but it is very enlightening. Three and a half declining empires out of five.

Geeks, Freaks & Oh, So My Peeps

American Nerd -- The Story of My People
Benjamin Nugent
Scribner

Benji, Benji, Benji ... I hate to be the one to tell you, but in reading this book, you proved to me that you don't know from nerd. Take it from someone who made the first of many trips on the short bus in Grade 5 -- you've left a few things out.

Your definition of a nerd is so, well, limiting. In my humble opinion, a nerd is a member of the geek family in that both species express an "over-developed" interest in a particular topic -- it doesn't, as you suggest, have to be something technical. I also disagree with your contention that nerds typically use formal speech. Did you actually speak with any nerds as part of your research? Dude -- in my experience nerds love words and speak only as formally as the situation warrants. To be candid, hardly anyone in my circle of friends speaks High Klingon anymore. Get with the times, bro.

And finally, what's all this crap about poser-nerds? What you were describing as a co-option of nerd culture (floodpants, dark rimmed glasses, and argylish sweaters) doesn't necessarily mean that the cool kids want to go nerd. I think what it means is that the crappiest parts of '50s (and '80s) fashion have made a come back -- end of story.

Despite my objections to your characterization, you get a B+ for your efforts. We'll let the geeks in the crowd figure out what that is as a score out of five. Qapla'.

Knit Lit?

The Friday Night Knitting Club
Kate Jacobs
Berkley

We should probably just file this book under the category "what the hell was I thinking?" and leave it at that. Unfortunately, that wouldn't make for much of an entry, so I guess I will go ahead and give you the gruesome details.

The Friday Night Knitting Club is set in a New York City wool shop where a bunch of eclectic women get together to learn stitches, trade gossip and share the narratives of their lives. The main character is Georgia -- a single mom who is in the not-so-envious position of raising a tween. She is also the shop's proprietor and part of her job is to be the (sometimes reluctant) good friend and sounding board to the women who frequent her establishment. Georgia's life is quite idyllic and it seems like she has it all. That is, of course, until she gets cancer. Georgia ends up dying before the end of the novel but not before all of the other subplots are brought to a happy conclusion. Methinks the author listened to the wrong REM song. This novel needed way more "Everybody Hurts" and way less "Shiny Happy People." One dropped stitch out of five.

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.