I AM the Wolfman

Tooth & Nail

Ian Rankin

Orion Books

I read in the introduction to the novel that the original title of this book was Wolfman. It made me wonder how people come up with both titles and cover art. Does the publisher make the decision? Does the author have any creative control? And in the case of this particular novel, what do hydro lines and what looks suspiciously like starlings, have to do with a serial killer that bites his victims on the belly post-mortem? Maybe it's like a Warhol album cover for the Velvet Underground -- conceptual and far beyond my level of understanding.

Enough musings -- on to the meat of this post. Tooth & Nail is the third installment in the Inspector Rebus crime series by Ian Rankin. In this "episode", John finds himself shipped off to London to assist in the investigation of a particularly gruesome series of murders. As you would expect, nobody is terribly keen to have to listen to the "import" and as such, he seems more a fish out of water than ever. I particularly enjoyed the way Rankin used language in this novel to highlight Rebus' alienation. When Rebus' first gets to London, his accent and idiom are so thick that no one can understand him. We are meant to feel a little sorry for the rumpled old bloke. And I did.

I imagine we'll see Inspector Rebus at least a couple of more times over the course of the new year. For 2009, I'm going to try to branch out a little and read selections from outside my comfort zone. As for Tooth & Nail, this crime novel gets three hoolit cheers out of five. Fangtastic!

Four Reading Birds

My Sister's Keeper

Jodi Picoult

Washington Square Press

Another Christmas has come and gone (well, not quite -- technically this is just day four of twelve) and I have already made a dent in the new additions to my to-be-read pile. While I haven't yet opened up all of my gifts, so far I've received three books and a gift card. The best part, of course, is that I had yet to read and/or buy any of them. I'm so giddy I can hardly sit still. Well, until I get absorbed into the pages -- then you need a crowbar pry me from my seat.

First up was Jodi Picoult's My Sister's Keeper. I had heard a lot about this book and had even picked it up a few times at the bookstore before getting distracted by something else. As it turns out, I should have kept it in my basket. This was an amazing read.

Set somewhere in New England, the novel tells the story of Anna and Kate. Kate is a sixteen year old girl who, at the age of two, was diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia. Anna, her thirteen year old sister, is a genetic match who was essentially bred by her parents to act as a donor of cells, marrow and tissue. The books opens with Anna visiting a lawyer's office to become emancipated from her parents -- they want her to donate a kidney to her dying sister and she has finally had enough and wants to be able to decide what to do with her own body. I was hooked from the opening word.

Putting aside the interesting moral issues that the book raises (which I will admit rescued it from being just another schmaltzy melodrama), I was very much engaged by the narrative technique used by the author. Each chapter in the novel is narrated by a different character in media-res. There are a couple of flashback chapters that fill us in on the back-stories of the various characters, but essentially, the reader lives the drama with the protagonists. Except for Kate. We don't hear from her until the very end of the novel. I'm not going to tell you how it turns out. I will say, however, that I was surprised and genuinely sad. Three point five breaking hearts out of five.

Always a Bridesmaid ...

The Prairie Bridesmaid

Daria Salomon

Key Porter Books

Okay -- so I now have a new rule when going to the bookstore. Do not buy books based on the on-air musings of your favourite radio host. It doesn't matter that you have a slight crush on him, that you totally dig the groovy music that he plays, or that he actually smells fantastic (I know this for a fact -- he once sat next to me in the Atrium and I was sure that I was in olfactory heaven.) Matt "Slivertongue" Galloway cannot be trusted -- he can make anything sound good. Even a poorly-written, angst-filled piece of crap.

The Prairie Bridesmaid is a novel about Anna -- an unhappy, almost thirty-something who decides that she's got a lot of bad in her life -- her job as a high-school English teacher is completely unrewarding, she's in a soul-sucking relationship, and she smokes and drinks far more than is good for her. While she is trying to sort out these woes, she's also dealing with a bunch of other dramas -- namely, an ailing grandma, a flighty-sister, and a wedding-from-hell.

Is this ringing any bells with you? Yup ... substitute New York for Winterpeg and you have every other chick-lit novel that you ever read. Sure, Salomon was witty, sardonic and more than just a little bit cynical. She just wasn't as good as the hype. One tattered crinoline out of five.

Bloody Awful

The Pagan Stone
Nora Roberts
Jove

Have you ever read a book that is just so terrible that you don't have the words to describe it? Um, er, ah ... oh forget it -- I give up. This book totally sucked.

I have to admit to feeling a little betrayed. Normally I can count on Ms. Roberts to take me away for at least a couple of hours of good clean fun. Her "family-based" romances are usually quite engaging and in the past, I've often found myself wistfully enjoying her unrealistic, yet slightly addictive, version of boy meets girl.

I don't know if it was the combination of romance and poorly-written fantasy that irritated me, or if the goddess of the romance market was just off her game. In any case, do not pick up this book. In fact, give the whole series a miss. It started out on solid footing and with a hundred or so more pages, could have beeen wrapped up beautifully in one tidy (and enjoyable) volume. Minus two pebbles out of five.

Soul Reading

Hey kids! Isn't it amazing how quickly the year passes? It seems like just the other week that I was wracking my brain trying to figure out how to come up with a shortlist for the 2007 D-E-S Book of the Year.

Well, this year's exercise hasn't been any easier. I read so many fantastic books in the past twelve months that it really is a difficult task to come up with a top five. Because of you, dear reader, I expanded my horizons and read outside my comfort zone. I flirted with mysterious men, I fell in love with circus performers, and I opened my mind to theories (economic and otherwise) that I thought I'd never understand. Thank you ever so much.

So, without further ado, I am pleased to announce this year's six nominees for the D-E-S Book of the Year:

• Water For Elephants - Sara Gruen
• The Thirteenth Tale - Diane Setterfield
• The Professor and the Madman - Simon Winchester
• Lonely Werewolf Girl - Martin Millar
• The Maltese Falcon - Dashiell Hammett
• A Thousand Splendid Suns - Khaled Hosseini

As always, I'll make the official announcement sometime after Christmas day. This isn't like Canada Reads, so please feel free share your favourites via the comments/feedback link. I'm hoping that at least one of you makes a suggestion or two that will influence future posts in this space.

Have a warm, safe and happy holiday season. Wishing each of you peace and joy for 2009.

Crazy is as Crazy Does

The Professor and the Madman
Simon Winchester
Harper Perennial

You've probably all figured out by now that the D-E-S is a bit of a word nerd. It could be because my given name rhymes with Librarian, or maybe it's because my parents encouraged me to read from a very early age -- I'm not sure. What I do know is that I unapologetically love language and I get genuinely excited when I add something new to my vocabulary.

It was with utter delight and a great deal of excitement that I started The Professor and the Madman -- a non-fiction work that tells the story of the creation of the OED -- the Oxford English Dictionary. I know, you're thinking "there she goes again -- spinning that EMBS propeller," but honestly, this book was fascinating. Started in 1857, the first full edition of the OED took over 70 years to write. In this account, we are introduced to two of the main contributors to this ambitious project -- Professor James Murray, one of the principle editors of the first edition, and Dr. Charles Minor, a prolific contributor, Civil War veteran, and resident in a facility for the criminally insane.

Murray and Minor corresponded for over twenty years before they actually met face-to-face. Minor, who killed a man in a fit of paranoia was to be incarcerated "until Her Majesty's Pleasure be known." He entered an asylum when he was 37 and died, in custody at the ripe old age of 85. During that time, he contributed thousands of words and quotations to the OED and managed to carry out his meticulous research while suffering from what would now be diagnosed as severe schizophrenia. James Murray, while a little less colourful, was no less interesting. He came from family so poor that he had to leave school at the age of 14. His thirst for knowledge, however, was unquenchable and by the time he was a young man, he had a seat on the Royal Philological Society. It was a short hop, skip and jump from there to full-fledged lexicographer and editor of the most exciting, ambitious dictionary project the world had ever seen.

Even if you're not a word nerd, The Professor and the Madman is still a very interesting read. So much so, in fact, that I think I'm going to break with tradition and put it on the list for the D-E-S book of the year. I liked it that much. 4 printing plates out of 5.

Teenage Fangst

Twilight
Stephanie Meyer
MT Books - Little Brown

While I don't normally give into peer pressure, I picked up this book because it has suddenly appeared on the reading lists of many of my friends. The publisher's blurb describes it as a kind of modern day Romeo and Juliet set in the Pacific Northwest. And yes, while it is directed at a young adult audience, it is another book about vampires. I'm sorry -- serious-minded folk should stop reading right now. My next post will have something with substance (and reflection). I promise.

If I'm being generous, I'd say that author takes a conventional, over-used narrative and at least tries to do something interesting. The main characters are Bella and Edward. She's an ethereal beauty who has just moved from the land of sun and energy to a small town in Washington State. He's a 100-year old conscience-plagued vampire, enrolled as a junior in high school since he was only 17 when he was transformed. Of course, they are partners in Biology class and the chemistry is electric. Wait, I mean biology ... oh ... you get the idea. I never really was that interested in science.

Regardless, as much as I would like to share my friends' enthusiasm, the best that I can say is that the book had some genuinely sweet moments. The author is able to channel the roller coaster of emotions of a teen in love and for that, I have to give her at least a little credit. Twilight gets two murky stars out of five.

Needle and the Damage Done

The Journal of Dora Damage
Belinda Starling
Bloomsbury UK

The D-E-S has received a few emails in the past couple of weeks wondering about my temporary disappearance from the blogosphere. I'm sorry gang,
I just haven't been in the mood to read. One of my closest friends, a gentle spirit, and a frequent commenter on this site passed away quite unexpectedly a few weeks ago. It's been tough. I know I haven't been reading because I've been avoiding the blog. I haven't wanted to write. I know that VL would want me to keep at it, so here I am. I'll apologize now for the crap entry. Every time I start it, I begin to cry.

While I didn't know it at the time of selection, The Journal of Dora Damage proved to be an apt choice for this week's entry. Set in Victorian England during the 1860s, the novel tells the story of Dora -- a fearless woman who, when faced with the loss of the family business due to her husband's ailing health, takes over the bindery and opens a new line of business. That's right, kids, she binds porn novels for London's finest citizens. Helping her in her illicit endeavours are Din -- her soon-to-be lover and escaped slave from America, Jack -- a drunken young dandy who gets thrown in jail for his homosexuality, and Pansy, a victim of sexual abuse who needs to support her dozen or so brothers and sisters.

For a first novel, this was a pretty good effort. At times, however, it seems that Starling was trying to "out Dickens" Dickens and I will admit to wanting to skim over large sections of text. We'll never get to know if Starling's sophomore effort would have been much improved. Like my friend VL, she passed away at too young an age with much of her life unlived.

And finally, a few words for that "curmudgeonly old troglodyte". We miss you, VL. A lot. When I'm ready, I'll read (and review) Anna Karenina. It was the last book you bought for me before you gave up going to the bookstore. It figures that you stuck me with a gigantic Russian tome -- I know you're laughing wherever you are. Love you always.

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.