A Slow Fire Burning, book review. (Paula Hawkins)

Much like Paula Hawkins' second book, Into the Water, A Slow Fire Burning is a book full of characters. Some you like, some you don’t, some you feel sorry for and some you want to throttle but all the same, they all seemed well rounded to me, particularly Laura Kilbride – a girl who has nothing but a shit life and a limp - a limp we later find out was caused by the man who was having an affair with her mother when he knocked her off of her bike (she was thirteen), before fleeing the scene, only to become her step-father a few years later – and I particularly liked Irene, who is widowed, elderly, a good neighbour and has Laura buy her shopping for her.
Then there’s Daniel Sutherland, who has been stabbed to death on a narrowboat in the centre of London, and the setting alone, with its alleyways, bridges, toe-paths and splattering of expensive houses juxtaposed with Laura’s high-rise council flat, is like a character in its own right (there’s a map included, too, so don’t worry), and adds a lot to the story.
In addition we have the nosey neighbour, Miriam: 53, dumpy, unattractive (her words not mine), keeps herself to herself, but has a tendency to be very vigilant - which stems from the time she and a friend where kidnapped when they were fifteen and her friend was killed – who happens to see Laura one morning (the morning after the murder), leaving Daniel’s boat with blood on her cloths, as does a local author, Theo Myerson, whose house fronts the river.
Now, Theo was married to Carla but after the loss of their son, Ben, thirteen years earlier, they separated; it is Carla’s nephew who has been murdered.
Carla’s sister, Angela, who also lives by the river (next door to Irene in fact) and has spent the last thirteen years drinking to block out the tragedy of Ben falling to his death from her balcony when she was supposed to be looking after him as opposed to shagging some bloke, is also dead; but is falling down the stairs when you're an alcoholic suspicious or not?

The writing here is clever in revealing just enough about the double lives being led, the hatred and obsessions between characters and in some cases their history, that I found it hard to put down, and it has suspense, fear, sadness and kept me guessing until the big reveal at the end, which I loved.
Poor Laura (or is she?), is dragged in for questioning, twice, loses her job and has her flat searched, all whilst Miriam, who found the murder victim, is stealing evidence, tipping of the police and harassing Theo, who in turn, is in and out of his ex-wife's (Carla's) bed, in spite of their separation, and lies continuously.
Crime?
Thriller?
A ‘who done it’?
Maybe it’s all of those.
But who cares for labels when a book takes you through so much at such pace with characters you root for and those you don’t, in such a great setting in the heart of London? I don’t and I suggest neither should you because whether it's Laura, Theo, Carla, little old Irene (remember Miss Marple, who fools everyone time and again into thinking she's a frail old lady sticking her nose in where it isn’t wanted?), Angela, before she had her ‘fall’ or invisible Miriam on her nice tidy narrowboat, who is the murderer, you are going to love finding out.
Four stars for Paula Hawkins’ third novel then, with the only week link being the police officers – although Laura, when she is interviewed is brilliant, and had me totally invested.

Don't forget to search my blog for your favourite authors and books and if I haven't read them, message me with your recommendations.

A Tale of Two Cities, book review. (Charles Dickens)

I am not a big reader of the classics, in fact this is only my forth Dickens: Oliver Twist, Great Expectations and A Christmas Carol (which I adore) being the others, and at first I found this hard going but, stubborn as I am when it comes to finishing books, I took a break and reread the first fifty pages or so and was, on second acquaintance, hooked.

The premise is a simple one of love, but as with so many love stories there are twists and turns. France is in the grip of revolution, blood is being spilt and the mere whisper in the ear of an official can find you in the stocks or worse, visiting the guillotine; so if you're an aristocrat, you're better off out of it and, as it happens, Charles Darnay is one such chap, who has just beaten a spying charge in a London court when he takes a fancy to the beautiful Lucie Manette.

Her love however, is bequeathed to another, reserved wholly for her father, Alexandre Manette, who was lost to her for many years. Only when she and the local bank manager, Jarvis Lorry (who become firm friends) got wind of his whereabouts from Manette's former servant and now bar owner, Ernest Defarge and his wife, did they manage to rescue him from his madness and shoe making in a Paris loft.

So lost was he - he'd lost all his faculties from being imprisoned in the bastille for years - that it took all of Lucie and Jarvis's strength and fortitude to nurse him back to health and as the months pass and Alexandre begins to embrace his new calm and peaceful life in London, comforted and looked after by friends and family - his daughter being the most dedicated - life takes a turn for the better; his daughter is to be married.

The writing here is as you would expect it to be: old school, which I both like and don't.

I like the use of old words, words that we no longer hear, and when people speak they do so with such delicacy and courtesy, even when they're being mean or threatening, and it all helps transport you back over two hundred years, to when the book is set. What I'm not so keen on is how the use of the archaic English language interrupts the flow of the narrative and had me flicking back and forth to see what I had missed.

As with a lot of Dickens' books, when first published, A Tale of Two Cities was serialised over many weeks, and I wondered if this was why I found it a bit disjointed.

The first few chapters are very atmospheric, and as I've said above, once understood, carry you on and into the rest of the story with pace but it is the ending, the last quarter of the book if you will, that I think seals its place in the annals of time; for it is here, having been lured back to France, that Charles Darnay is arrested and imprisoned for being an aristocrat. Along with Lucie, her father and Miss Pross (Lucie's governess) they attempt to win his case, but on release, he is rearrested on a trumped up charge. The Defarges - the bar owners who so kindly looked after Lucie's father when he was lost making shoes - have turned, put the word out about Darnay's roots, and shown their true tricolours.

The, 'will they, won't they,' tug of war over whether the jury will find him innocent a second time or have him condemned to Madam Guillotine, the behind the scene scheming by the tricoteuses, (a group of women who knit the names of those who should be executed into shrouds, Madam Defarge being their self-appointed leader) and the bloodlust of a baying crowds, is all in contrast to the peaceful and mellow existence the family had enjoyed in London, and it turns the pages quicker than you know.

So to sum up: Once I got my mind around the language - yes I know, it's written in English but that's like saying, Train Spotting is written in Scottish - this book thoroughly entertained. There is love, reunion and life, opposing hatred, destruction and death and there is atmosphere (and we all know how much I love atmosphere) along with a few more tranquil moments, and then there's the ultimate sacrifice, the giving of one's life for another, but that would be giving the game away so you'll have to check this one out for yourselves.

Three and a half stars.

Don't forget to search my blog for your favourite authors and books and if I haven't read them yet why not message me with your recommendations.

The Rats, book review. (James Herbert)

Back to my childhood again for this one; James Herbert's The Rats.

Classic British horror with all the gore and lack of plotline you would expect and love from the 1970s and boy does it deliver.

Such is the pace of this novel, the whole thing is over in a flash (I am not a fast reader but read it in about five hours) and it's rather formulaic too, introducing a new character per chapter at the start, before killing most of them off rather gruesomely soon after, and then the school teacher hero (the author was a school teacher himself when he wrote the book) turns up in the right place at the wrong time to save the day - the attack on the school is actually one of the highlights of the book, along with a doomed underground train where most of the people aboard become a meal - but what I couldn't believe (this book was first published in 1974, which isn't an excuse by the way) is how sexist and archaic it felt. I've recently re-read Stephen King's first novel, Carrie, which was also published in '74' and that didn't feel anywhere near as old, but there you are, just a word of warning.
The book is set in London but it's a London I don't recognise. There are derelict areas by the river Thames where we now have luxury apartments and bomb-damaged rubble-strewn swathes of rat-infested land that probably have an Ikea or Costa drive-through today, which again, for me at least, because I know London reasonably well, dates the book even more.

So, the writing is okay - I should point out that when I first cut my teeth on James Herbert's back catalogue (or before I knew any better), all of his books got five stars because, as a teenager, the gorier the book, the more blood that was spilled and the more ingenious the ways in which it was spilled was all that really mattered - and its pace, as I've said, means you'll tear through in no time. The characters do lack depth though, and their backstories mean very little because the character to whom they refer to are in most cases, quickly devoured.

So, the Rats, one of my first love affairs of the literary world, written by one of the first authors that really got me reading for pleasure, is now a mixed bag. I will always have it and its author to thank for leading me down the path I am still on, for helping me fall in love with the world of books, but, and it pains me to write this, overall, now, thirty-odd years later, I can see it for what it is, average.

Brilliant in parts - the scene in the school really is that good - but showing its age in regards to how it portrays women and in the basic way it is written.

Three stars then for James Herbert's The Rats, but I'll never forget where it all started.

Broken Homes, book review. (Ben Aaronovitch)

This is part four of Ben Aaronovitch’s magical journey with the Met Police, and it’s a good one.

There are strange things happening in London, especially south of the river.

Why would a normal man, run a red light and crash into another car? Why did that same man kill a woman and leave her body in a shallow grave? Why would someone leave a tube station, only to walk back down to the platform and jump in front of a train? And why was a very rare and expensive, magical book, pawned at a bookshop of the Charring Cross road, having been stolen from an ex-practitioner's house in leafy Hampstead?

With some diligence, a bit of luck and a hell of a lot of help, Peter Grant and Lesley May manage to advance their magic, whilst: trying to track down the faceless man, avoid being killed by a homicidal Russian, Varvara Sidorovna, police the Spring Court for the God and Goddess of the Thames, protect the monstrosity that is the grade two listed tower at Skygarden, (an ugly concrete sky scrapper built by an eminent architect who designed the building to harness large quantities of magic), and walk the dog.

Sky, the wood nymph, dies when her trees are attacked. Abigail is taken on as an ad hoc apprentice. Molly works her way through one of Jamie Oliver’s cook books. The book thief is discovered at his house, cooked from the inside! Nightingale rescues Peter and Lesley from certain death and the Skygarden tower blow up with Peter standing on the roof.

Quite a lot happens then, and all wrapped up in a little over three hundred and fifty pages.

Well, this book is worth reading for the farm scene alone; it is one of the best scenes so far in this entire series. Nightingale steams into an already tense situation, where Peter and Lesley have been overpowered, and are about to die a very uncomfortable death at the hands of the not so friendly Varvara, but with much magic and trickery, Nightingale manages to wreck the barn, destroy a bungalow, capture the villains, and . . .

No, I’m not going to spoil it for you. I’m not even going to tell you why Lesley shots Peter in the back at the end. I’ll just let you read it for yourselves.

Four and half well deserved stars for this one then. On to book five: Foxglove Summer.

Moon over Soho, book review. (Ben Aaronovitch)

Oh I do love a quick dip into books about magic policing, chimeras and sex!

It's quite apt I think, that out of the first four books, this one is the most racy because it's set in Soho, and Soho is, or used to be, synonymous with sin.

That aside, we have another wonderful jaunt with P.C. Peter Grant, through the pitfalls of policing in the capital, whilst trying to practice magic, learn Latin, keep the status quo between the King and Queen of the Thames, and last but not least, catch criminals.

There's an illegal practitioner of magic in London, three girls who died when a bomb dropped on a jazz club in World War II, renting an apartment off of Denmark Street, and there's The Pale Lady; she bites men's penises off with her vagina.

The death of a journalist, who had the misfortune of meeting the Pale Lady, leads P.C. Grant on a journey of jazz venues, where he finds a group of musicians whose lead saxophonist has recently passed on, suspiciously. It turns out he's not the only one; after further investigation, it appears that quite a few jazz musicians have met with untimely deaths recently.
There are also people being magically spliced together with animals.

So, during this escapade, P.C. Grant steals an Ambulance, running amok through the streets of the West End - just managing to save his wards life by dumping him in the river - helps his friend and fellow P.C., Lesley May, (who lost her face in book one), come to terms with her disfigurement, whilst keeping the families of the Thames happy enough to avoid a turf war.

Just like with Rivers of London, I enjoyed this book a lot, and it is in fact, the second time I've read it.

It is funny, fast paced, original and at around four hundred pages, just the right length.

A four star book then, and on to book three, Whispers Underground.

Rivers of London, book review. (Ben Aaronovich)

I just had to re-read this classic series again, before book six came out. (Too late!)

It's been a few years now, and what with Rivers of London, Moon over Soho, Whispers Underground and Broken Homes, starting to blend into one, I sort of needed a refresher.

Well, I've finished book one and I'm half way through book two, and if anything, I'm liking them more now than the first time.

Ben Aaronovich paints a picture of the secret magical wing of the Metropolitan police force, (which consists of: one man - who is over a hundred years old - a vampire ghost, and an H.Q called The Folly), very convincingly, and then, P.C Grant starts talking to a ghost in Covent Garden and the Folly has a new recruit.

P.C. Peter Grant, who, up until that fateful night, was just a regular probationary constable, is our main character here. On the discovery of ghosts being real and their ability to inflict serious damage on the living, (our first victim is beheaded), our story begins.

The normal police take a very dim view of the Folly and its purpose, until an ancient malevolent ghost starts killing people that is. After that results are expected and expected fast.

Whilst spending a lot of the book discovering that magic is real, trying to learn it, (as well as Latin), P.C Grant, also finds himself embroiled in the middle of a feud between the mother and father of the river Thames. (Hence the book’s title).

With centuries of history and immense power between them, the two entities, along with their extended families, control all the river of London; the Thames of course being the biggest. With much fumbling, and only a small amount of destruction, our intrepid trainee magician, mediates the situation the best he can.

There is horror in this book, fun, laughter, genuine intrigue and as you tread the cobbles of one of the most famous placing in the world, (Covent Garden), you get trapped; trapped in a world of magic, policing, and fear, a world that hovers behind a thin veil between normality and fiction.

Exquisitely researched, so much so that I thought the author was a Jazz playing ex policeman, who wondered the streets of London of an evening, smoking something that could result in his arrest, and it’s fast paced too.
The chase at the end, with P.C Grant running through a London that gets magically younger, before finally disappearing altogether, going back to pre-Roman times, is just fantastic.

So, five big fat delicious stars for this book then, and with Moon over Soho under way, I'll be back in touch in a week or so with another update.

Keep reading and don't forget your Children in Need donation.

The Detective's Daughter, book review. (Lesley Thomson)

Crime, it isn't my preferred genre, but I managed to acquire this one for one pound on my Kindle, so gave it a go. 

It was in the most part, quite good, but this book does have its problems. 

Convincing the reader, that a grown man can live entirely undetected in a stranger's (host's) house, for weeks, sometimes months on end, was just too much. In fact, I almost gave up at that point, and with a few to many coincidences stretching the boundaries of belief, you might wonder why I kept going. 

The answer to that is in the strength of the writing. 
Talking of coincidences: The main character, Stella Darnell, happens to run a cleaning company, who cleans for a woman, who lived next door to the woman who was murdered in the early eighties, that her deceased father investigated, (when he was a detective in the Met police) but never solved, that Stella subsequently finds out he was still investigating, when he mysteriously dies.
Then we discover, that her latest employee, is the dead woman's son, and has an intolerance for the colour she has just chosen for her new uniforms, to the point where he vomits. 
Then, Stella starts to date her (spoiler alert) dentist, who turns out to be our murderer! 
Suffice to say, I won't be reading any more of this Lesley Thomson series, but based on her ability to set a scene, to create believable dialogue and plonk the reader smack bang in the middle of a very believable, cold and depressing London during a miserable winter, means that I will endeavour to read something else by the author. 

The finale was both creepy, fast paced and revealing in equal measure.

Her sense of place and description of the capital, had me thinking of another crime novel I read recently, (J.K.Rowling's, The Cuckoo's Calling), which I think, is praise indeed. 

Only three stars for this one then, but just enough for me to remember the name, Lesley Thomson.

Oh, and congratulation to Emily May, fellow blogger from 'The Book Geek', on the birth of her first child. I wait with baited breath, for her book review of 'The Hungry Caterpillar' 

Saturday, book review. (Ian McEwan)

I do like the way Ian McEwan writes; he seems to make the mundane almost interesting, and it's exactly what he's done in his book, Saturday.

The simple preparation of an evening dinner, is one of my favourite scenes in the book (for want of a better expression) and his expert grasp of the English language, even makes a journey to the corner shop interesting.

Told over a single Saturday, we wake early with our custodian for the day, a Neurosurgeon living in the centre of London, and follow him through the trials and tribulations of the day.

There's an anti-war protest to throw us off the scent, a daughter returning from Paris, which brings much drama, and the squash match to end all squash matches.

I've never played squash (because I'm too lazy), but I felt the sweat running down my back after reading that scene and the surgery performed was eloquently described. 

An altercation with a thug near the beginning of the story, comes to a heady climax near the end and is the main backbone of the book. Back story to support his father-in-laws inevitable candour, a pregnant daughter and a wife he adores (and makes love to twice in one day), fills in the blanks.

Better that Solar, but not as good as Sweet tooth, it earns a very solid three and a half stars. 

A good solid book then, and like most of Ian McEwan's books, a quick read. 

Hearts of Darkness, book review. Harry Lytle III (Paul Lawrence)

I love Harry Lytle. (He even has his own website with a Goodreads link)

Set in the dark devious, depressing destitute and deprived depths of seventeenth century London, this, the third chronicle of Harry Lytle, finds our unlikely and unwilling protagonist, fighting against his most deadly of enemies to date, the black death; bubonic plague.

In order to avoid a long and agonising death on some rather barbaric medieval torture device, Harry and his best pal are tasked (forced) to travel to Essex and once there, to gain entry to one of the most plague infested towns in the country, all to detain a wanted criminal who might be innocent.

There is a familiarity between the characters and some mention of what went before, but this volume can still be read as a standalone novel, and won't disappoint.

So, under treat of death our two key characters pursuit their quarry with foolhardy poise, having little clue about what lies around the corner.

They fight, they lose, they are captured they escape, they are surround by death, they find a dead cow!

There is much to like about Paul Lawrence's books and ever since the first one (The Sweet Smell of Decay) crossed my path back in 2010, I've been a fan. 

So a good, well deserved four stars. When can we expect the next one?