Kincaid heard something in her voice, a shade of worry or aggravation, and remembered how she’d sounded on the phone that morning. Probably some bloke, he thought, and realized how little he knew about Gemma’s life.
Just what had been his relationship with Jasmine Dent? Were they lovers, with Jasmine so ill with cancer? Stealing a glance at Kincaid’s abstracted face, Gemma was shocked to realize how little she knew of his personal life.
For me, the main attraction of this series is exploring the beginnings of the strong marriage and family life that I have learned Duncan Kincaid and Gemma Jones forge later in the series. Also, I like mysteries. On it’s own merits the book was enjoyable but underwhelming on the personal front and the mystery front. the two main characters are nice and smart, but are kind of boring. The writing is a little too simplistic and straightforward. But it was well paced and kept me turning the pages: when one step of progress in the (possible) murder investigation or the character’s personal lives was tackled there was always another to look forward to. First there are the meetings with each of the “suspects” in turn (although it is not positively established there is really a murder), Gemma and Duncan investigate separately and then consult together, Duncan reads the victim Jasmine’s journal, He travels to where she was brought up, the suspects are re-interviewed in light of new information, the contents of the will, and so forth.
Does Deborah Crombie play fair with the reader as far as laying out the clues to solve the mystery? I don’t think so.
**Spoiler**
There is a tie between the murderer and victim that provides the motive, but I didn’t detect any clues to that prior to when it is revealed at the very end. And putting the murderer and victim together was pure coincidence. We are led to believe in one motive when it turns out it was something else entirely. That was fair and actually very well done. But it leaves some unanswered and unexplored questions created to establish the red herring motive. What attracted a posh handsome chancer to a struggling little mouse like Meg? It is established that he latched on to her before there was any hint that she might be coming into money. The answer is never revealed or explored and it might have been interesting. She is trapped and in the thrall of her dangerous lover who is a vile narcissist and main suspect for the murder. Of course the reader is on tenterhooks as to whether, although she is under no illusion as to his character, she can escape his clutches and the sexual hold he has over her. It is a source of suspense and we hope she sees the light and escapes. When she does it is very much an anticlimax after all the build up. She finds her backbone out of nowhere and tells him she is leaving him with virtually no drama or fallout.
We are led to believe one character is one kind of person, when, with no hint or foundation, he is not. We are given every reason to hold him in contempt and distrust and he is provided one of the strongest motives. When a loser of a character based on what we know about his past is “shrugging guilelessly…drinking thirstily… and licking his lips” that telegraphs “bad guy” to me. Or am I crazy? And then when he takes the woman who inherited the victim’s flat there by surprise, “The light from the table lamp bounced off the [eyeglass] lenses, shielding his eyes from her.” He had no business there. It sounded like he must have followed her. But we are asked to disregard those tells that have been fed us and his unremitting history of weakness and asked to believe he is actually a good guy who has learned from his mistakes at long last. It seemed very contrived to provide a hopeful ending to two characters who turned out not to be murderers.
**End Spoiler**
Maybe they will appear in a later book? Apparently this reappearance of some characters does happen in the series which is one of the reasons I am still attracted to continuing it at some point. I did enjoy google-earthing the real streets and buildings in England that are characters travel on and go to.
“How many seven-year-olds do you know who are friends with eighty-one-year-olds?” “It’s not ideal,” she agrees, after a moment’s consideration. “But beggars can’t be choosers.” I feel a rare moment of pity for the child. “You’re not a beggar, child.” She laughs. “I know that. You’re the beggar. I’m the chooser. Because I choose you!”
“What do you think happened to Ishaan, Ms. Fitzpatrick?” Baldy says, adopting a patronizing, kindly voice. It feels like a remarkably ridiculous question. “I think he got dicked by the dangling dong of destiny, that’s what I think.’
I guess I’m kind of a cheap date as far as books are concerned. If a book can make me laugh I’m in the author’s pocket. If a character can make me laugh, it’s hard for me not to like and care about what happens to them. If a book can both make me laugh, cry, and keep me on the edge of my seat…well. Elsie “Mad Mabel” Fitzpatrick’s acerbic wit kept me buoyed throughout. All of Sally Hepworth’s books that I have read, so far, are dual timeline. All of them have hooked me with the children in peril trope in “the past” of the story, and kept me hooked when that same child (or children) experience the fall out as adults. Mad Mabel is no different in that way from the three others by her I have read. I gave the previous book I read by this author, The Mother-in-Law5 stars, but I loved this one in a different way. I admired the character development in the former more than I liked the characters. Unlike that one, all of the protagonists in this were extremely likable and admirable, and there were many of them. I was cheering for them all the way, and their outcomes, with one exception, were very satisfactory. Well, two exceptions. One worthy character’s fate was a little over the top fortunate, but I generally don’t mind that at all. Usually, the happier the better for characters that deserve it.
81-year-old Elsie has lived on Kenny Lane in Melbourne for 60 years. Only she and her friend Daphne know her true identity: Mad Mabel, the youngest person ever to be convicted of murder in Australia. Soon though, her neighborhood, Melbourne, and the whole country (if not the world), will know her true identity. One of her neighbors whom she didn’t make any secret of being at odds with drops dead, and Elsie discovers the body. This sparks a chain of events which at first will cause her to be a target of public gossip, a witch hunt, and even a police investigation. It isn’t long though before Elsie, finally thrust out of her reclusive existence, decides to tell the world the real story of her life and how she became the notorious “Mad Mabel.” Thanks to a pair of small-time podcasters and her own actions and events, she gradually reveals her true self behind the prickly and intimidating exterior, and earns her neighbors’ good will, loyalty, and even love. And let’s not forget the influence of Persephone, a precocious 7-year-old whom Elsie describes as an “irritating little despot.” It is a story that is full of tragedy and injustice although there are some bright spots, so not unremitting. Elsie’s voice is so engaging and worldly-wise, I didn’t feel crushed by all that befell her. And of course, the knowledge that because she is finally telling her story, people will at last know the truth, was a lifeline. The book alternates between Then and Now. The Now parts, although there are some scary moments, provide a respite from her sad Then parts. Yet I was always OK with going back to Then because her story was so interesting and told with the wisdom of age. Plus, I wanted answers. (One of the answers I still want is who is that supposed to be on the cover of the book?)
The truths that are revealed by the podcast are pretty blockbuster, and one was a genuine shock. One reveal, I had guessed right away. In fact, I found it so obvious that I suspect Sally Hepworth never meant it to be a big secret from any careful readers. The fallout in the present time despite some devastatingly sad past occurrences, was overall good, if not great. I was perfectly fine that some of the outcomes turned out to be almost fairytale. I love that in all of Sally Hepworth’s books. She really puts you through the wringer, but, at least so far in the books I have read, it is all worth it. She is now in my tippy top echelon of favorite authors. I’ve loved all the books I’ve read by her and am grateful she still has some I have yet to read. I meant to stop at the 80% mark and leave the rest for another day. But I couldn’t put it down. I can’t remember the last time I was moved to tears at the close of a book.
One more quote: “Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”— Albus Dumbledore
I’m not warm, I’m not especially kind. But I can be strong.
I believe this is the first book of Sally Hepworth’s that really made it big. It’s the one that brought her to my attention. Despite great reviews, I avoided it for a couple of years, reading instead 2 later books by her which I thoroughly enjoyed. I assumed that if the book was about a Mother-in-Law she had to be Evil. That’s what the synopsis seemed to suggest as well. And if the Mother-in-law was evil, that meant the husband had to be either complicit, stupid, or weak. Now that’s fine in romantic woman’s fiction as our heroine will suffer or be deceived by said hubby but dump him on the way to a better life with another man who is worthy of her.
But this wasn’t so simple or predictable. First and foremost it is a study of characters. Not just one. In the first chapter we learn that Diana, the Mother-in-Law, is dead. At first it looks like suicide, and then it looks like murder. There are many confusing things about it which will not be answered until the last pages. The past is told in flashbacks by Diana and Lucy, the Daughter-in-law, in first person. They are joint protagonists even though Lucy is the only one still alive in the present and dealing with what turns out to be a murder mystery and investigation. At about a quarter in, I liked both of the two women who didn’t understand each other because they didn’t know what I, the reader, was learning. And as I learned more and more, I felt saddened by their adversarial relationship when they could have been allies and even friends. Such waste! Diana, Lucy’s mother-in-law, is not warm or kind, but she is a good woman who wants the best for those close to her. She just goes at it in a way that most people would disagree with. She adores her husband Tom and he adores her. She has founded a charity, and works very hard at it, to help down-on-their-luck pregnant immigrant women get the supplies and care they need. I interpreted Diana as having a borderline personality disorder perhaps partially caused by her difficult past. She seems to have developed an inability to feel or show empathy for those close to her. She is very complicated, confusing and mysterious. Lucy has married Ollie, Diana’s son. Lucy is also a good person: a bit of a free spirit, very nice, and with a strong moral center. She and Ollie love each other very much. Lucy’s wonderful mother died when she was only 13 and she meets her fiancé’s mother hoping that she and Diana will become close friends or even have a loving mother-daughter relationship. That hope does not last long. Their first meeting sets the pattern which is repeated over and over until near the end. Diana is very reserved and formal at their first meeting. Ollie asks his mother what she thinks about Lucy, and Lucy overhears Diana say “I think she’s fine.” She is very hurt by this “damning with faint praise” assessment. When Diana’s society friends explain that “Nothing good ever started from fine”, she doesn’t get it. To Diana,
“fine is an appropriate seal of approval for the son’s new girlfriend. Love is obviously too strong a word, and even like would be overstating after a mere evening together-Heaven forbid I be one of those overbearing women that fawned all over the new girlfriend begging to be best friends…. As far as I am concerned, If Lucy loved my son and he loved her she was fine by me. Absolutely fine“.
And of course she doesn’t know that Lucy overheard her comment. Not that she would really try to explain herself. Diana’s first impression of Lucy is that she has been spoiled and adored her whole life and so is rather weak. But Lucy is actually very strong, as Diana learns. And Lucy is not faultless in the rocky relationship. Diana makes such an unpleasant scene over the price of the wedding gown Lucy loves at the bridal shop, that she walks out embarrassed and hurt. But later, she realizes later that Diana did her a huge favor. Lucy never talks to Diana about it. Diana never tells Lucy that she didn’t like the dress not only because of the price, but because the dress did not reflect Lucy’s off beat fashion style and made her look “generic.” There were so many times a heart to heart between the two would have healed the breach. But Diana does not do heart to hearts. Only the reader is allowed to see Diana’s side of things, and even then she does things that are really inexcusable. Even when she becomes aware of her mis-steps she never goes back to set things straight. “She’s a good mother, I have to admit. It occurs to me that I’ve never told her that.” And she never does.
As the story goes on, Lucy and Ollie have children, and the breach between them grows very wide. Even, we are told, to the point of physical violence though we do not know the circumstances right away. So when Diana’s death looks like murder, all eyes turn to Lucy. Our suspicions turn to Ollie. Because though Ollie is a good person, he is weak and not all that bright. Diana recalls an incident involving Ollie and his sister Nettie in their pool when Nettie almost drowns trying to save her little brother:
That’s when I realized. Some people jumped in and tried to save someone who was in trouble; others did anything they could to save themselves. Ollie hadn’t meant to drown Nettie, he was simply following his instincts, just as she was following hers. My children had just shown me who they were.
By the end, I was desperate for Diana to see the light and for the two women to come to an understanding. I was intrigued by the mystery of Diana’s death and the fates of everyone in the family. I won’t say anymore but I found the ending more satisfying and hopeful than it had any right to be.
Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous’, Einstein said. Freud disregarded such nonsense: everything could be explained was his mantra; whereas Jung believed coincidences were a manifestation of a deeper order in the universe. Certainly, after Clifford’s ‘experience’ he was more inclined to believe in the magic of them. ‘Accept the mystery, Jane,’ he’d say. ‘I am a happier man for doing so.’
One of Milly’s specialties is telling the stories of women (and sometimes men) who are victimized and dominated by their (usually narcissistic) partners who finally see the light and find the strength to stand up for themselves and escape. Usually into the loving arms of another man (or woman) who is kind, strong, and worthy of them. Although I love Milly Johnson’s writing and eagerly anticipate these characters’ final victories and the comeuppances in store for their abusers, it’s all starting to get a little old. Let me put this feeling about this aspect of Milly’s books in context. I have read every Milly Johnson book at least twice and some several times. Even when I first started reading Milly some of her female characters (usually self-inflicted) plights were way too much for me. But sometimes as much as the designated doormat in her cast of characters frustrated and sometimes even infuriated me, the situation was usually balanced out in some way. For example, an epic take down of the abuser( The Yorkshire Pudding Club), or the woman (or man) having the epiphany fairly early on, and determined and committed to her escape route (The Queen of Wishful Thinking.) What I can’t abide is what happened in this one.
We follow a diverse group of English men and women who are struggling in their lives in some way and are traveling for Christmas. Due to a rather mysterious storm, they end up snowbound together on a luxurious private train. This is very similar in structure to Milly’s 2020 Christmas themed novel, I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday. We first meet Tom, the attractive owner of a Taxi service who is chauffeuring a beautiful and posh young woman, Elizabeth, to a Manor on the outskirts of Durham where she is meeting her fiancé and their two sets of parents for their annual celebration. It is apparent immediately that her relationship with her fiancé is not only unhappy but toxic. Jane is an elderly woman who has been recently widowed and missing her wonderful professor husband and happy marriage. Wherever she is going she is not looking forward to it. It is clear that those who remain in her life do not appreciate her. Grace and Frank are a married couple and we learn that something happened in their lives that turned Grace from a lovely woman to a cold, snappish, and sour killjoy who holds something against her very nice and warmhearted husband. “Roo”, or Ruby, is a lively young woman who seems a bit eccentric but nice. She is not a fan of Christmas and has suffered a recent setback. Tim is a middle-aged man who is grumpy and standoffish. He is a big guy with a white beard who ironically works at playing Santa Claus at Christmas. As they make themselves at home on the train, they are surprised and delighted that every luxury they could wish for, from accommodations, to food, to drink is theirs for the asking. As they get to know each other and each other’s stories even the least sociable and closed down among them start to open up. With the others’ help and advice they start to understand and come to terms with truths about what has damaged them and their lives. Paths forward to healing slowly reveal themselves to each of them. As the 7 castaways become friends they start to notice strange things going on in some of the train cars. They are not alone.
This was a likable and enjoyable book in many ways, and of course happy endings abound at the end in true Milly Johnson fashion. There were some twists and turns I saw coming a mile away, but a few I didn’t. Unfortunately, Two of the main women characters, Elizabeth and Grace, got me so frustrated and angry that I almost wished they had been left with the unhappy endings they deserved! Almost. The story is told, as in most ensemble type books and movies, by visiting each character as they contribute to the present day plot while their backstory is unwoven. Most if not all of Milly’s stories involve (heavenly?) enchantment to some degree, but this one, like her other previously mentioned holiday tale, is all about the Christmas magic.
As usual Milly weaves good stories around each of the engaging characters. They deal with grief, estrangement from loved ones, disappointment in love, unrealized potential, or greedy or rotten families. All written with plenty of Yorkshire dialect, humor, and a light touch. My first problem was that every single time we came to Elizabeth’s turn in the spotlight, it was one horror after another showing how badly she was treated by her horrible family, her horrible fiancé, and his horrible family. She reflects on their horribleness, clearly sees how she is being gaslighted and bullied, but still never wavers from going back to her toxic environment. Even as a clear path to living her dream in life and love unfolds before her! She acts like a lifetime of misery is preferable to rocking her boat. She comes to her senses at the last second but even then has to be driven away by the nice guy. We never see her stand up to confront her rotten family and fiancé. I imagine they were all kinds of gobsmacked and irate over her rebellion, but we never have the pleasure of reveling in their downfall. All we get is a glimpse of them in the rear view mirror as they are sprayed with the gravel of her getaway taxi. Not even an engagement ring-toss out the window.
I’m not going to dwell on Grace, but she was a stone cold b***ch to her kind, popular, and patient husband. Yes, they experienced a horrible tragedy together, but to Grace it was all about her. She blamed her husband for something completely out of any human control. Both women held on to their painful circumstances much too stubbornly for me. They continued on their roads to disaster despite almost miraculous escape routes being provided right in front of them. To add to my exasperation, I even started to despise poor Frank for putting up with Grace so patiently for so long. I have never given any of Milly’s novels less than 4 stars, but sadly, I couldn’t give this one more than 3 in the end. It was Dawn in Summer Fling, my least favorite character in my least favorite novel by the author, all over again. Kind of a bummer, actually.
Although I had never read this novel before, I knew the plot backwards and forwards thanks to the two BBC productions I have watched numerous times. Also I listened to an abridged version several years ago. I had started Val McDermid’s modern re-working of Northanger Abbey and it was not going well. It started me to thinking, “why am I reading this, when I still haven’t actually read the real one”? I decided to listen to it again since I have had the unabridged version in my Audible library for years. It was very funny right from the the start. It did go well. Of course I knew all the ins and outs of the plot. But I probably would have enjoyed it more if it were the first go round of any kind. Also, I suspect I would have picked up even more of the humor if I had read it on the page.
The book begins with Jane Austen informing the reader of all reasons why Catherine Morland, our heroine, is not suited to the role. In fact, The Narrator (Austen) pulls no punches in eviscerating Catherine and detailing her lack of heroic qualities. Brains? Nope.
She never could learn or understand anything before she was taught; and sometimes not even then, for she was often inattentive, and occasionally stupid.
Beauty? Nope
…and Catherine, for many years of her life [was] as plain as any. She had a thin awkward figure, a sallow skin without colour, dark lank hair, and strong features…” No mention of “speaking, twinkling, intelligent, or laughing gray eyes, you will notice. But… At fifteen, appearances were mending…she had now the pleasure of sometimes hearing her father and mother remark on her personal improvement. “Catherine grows quite a good-looking girl-she is almost pretty today.”
Talents and accomplishments? Nope.
Her taste for drawing was not superior. though whenever she could obtain…any…odd piece of paper, she did what she could in that way, by drawing houses and trees, hens and chickens, all very much like one another. Writing and accounts she was taught by her father; French by her mother: her proficiency in either was not remarkable, and she shirked her lessons in both whenever she could. What a strange, unaccountable character!—
I laughed aloud at the idea of a house, a tree and a chicken looking very much alike. After being assured that Catherine’s father “is not the least addicted to locking up his daughters” we read that her mother was a woman of useful plain sense, with a good temper, and, what is more remarkable, with a “good constitution.”
So having assured us that Catherine does not fit the mold of a Gothic heroine she eventually plops her in the middle of a plot worthy of any respectable gothic romance. In her own mind. For Catherine is a little obsessed with gothic novels. Taken to Bath by well off family friends, Catherine is drawn in and befriended by the manipulative Isabella Thorpe and her crass brother who tries to worm his way into her affections. She also meets the upstanding and witty Henry Tilney and his nice sister Eleanor. Catherine develops a tendre for him and he seems to reciprocate her feelings. Eleanor invites her to their ancestral home, Northanger Abbey, for several weeks, and Catherine is in a state of shivery delight that the Tilney’s ancestral home is an actual Abbey.
Her passion for ancient edifices was next in degree to her passion for Henry Tilney…With all the chances against her of house, hall, place, park, court, and cottage, Northanger turned up an abbey…long damp passages…narrow cells and ruined chapel…the hope of some traditional legends, some awful memorials of an injured and ill-fated nun.”
Although unlike the films, the Abbey does not live up to her imagination, (not an “antique chimney”, dirt, or cobwebs in sight-Neither “awful forebodings of future miseries” nor “sighs of the murdered” either) she finds plenty of fuel for her fantasies. She convinces herself that Henry and Eleanor’s intimidating, strange-acting, and hot-tempered father murdered their mother (or possibly has her imprisoned somewhere in a secret cell.) When she is caught snooping in a place she should not be by Henry, he sets her straight and makes no bones about what he thinks of her deluded fantasies. In the face of his disdainful take-down she comes to her senses with a decided ker-plunk. (But he still likes her.) Ironically, it is after her wake-up call when General Tilney genuinely does her a shocking cruelty and even puts her life in danger by his rude and heartless actions. So maybe not so detached from reality after all.
Although Catherine Morland is not the crispiest chip in the bag, I grew to like her very much. She is kind and good-hearted, and if she is sometimes silly it stems from naivety and innocence rather than brainlessness. I was completely won over by this passage:
[Henry Tilney] looked as handsome and as lively as ever, and was talking with interest to a fashionable and pleasing-looking young woman, who leant on his arm, and whom Catherine immediately guessed to be his sister; thus unthinkingly throwing away a fair opportunity of considering him lost to her forever, by being married already… he had never mentioned a wife, and he had acknowledged a sister. From these circumstances sprang the instant conclusion of his sister’s now being by his side; and therefore, instead of turning of a deathlike paleness and falling in a fit on Mrs. Allen’s bosom, Catherine sat erect, in the perfect use of her senses, and with cheeks only a little redder than usual.
And she shines in comparison to two other women in the story: Isabelle Thorpe and Mrs. Allen. Mrs. Allen makes Catherine seem sensible and resolute and Isabelle highlights Catherine’s virtues by being her opposite. That Catherine has been able to attract the friendship and liking of such a role model as Eleanor Tilney also speaks very well of her. And how can one be too hard on someone who is such a voracious reader of novels? Unfortunately, although witty and tolerant, I found Henry a bit prosy and self satisfied. Not as likable as the Henry Tilney of the films.
“Henry,” said Miss Tilney, “you are very impertinent. Miss Morland,…He is forever finding fault with me, for some incorrectness of language, and now he is taking the same liberty with you. The word “nicest,” as you used it, did not suit him…”Very true, said Henry, “and this is a very nice day, and we are taking a very nice walk and you are two very nice young ladies. Oh! It is a very nice word indeed! It does for everything. Originally perhaps it was applied only to express…”
And blah blah blah.
But that aside, I found myself chuckling at the wry humor, admiring Austen’s characterizations, and the skewering of the gothic novels of her day. Even though I am an old Gothic reader myself, I am not at all tempted to read one of the many of Catherine’s reading list based on the little snatches we are favored with in Northanger Abbey. I now have read all of Jane Austen’s books except Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice several times. I guess you could say I’m saving it.
Evil matters. So does love. So does pity. My pilgrim,’ said the Dame de Doubtance gently, ‘you have still three bitter lessons to learn.’
The penultimate scene ofThe Disorderly Knights foreshadows the age-old ethical dilemma that one is devastatingly confronted with in this, Pawn in Frankincense: When does the greater good outweigh the good of the individual? When it is a matter of life or death, how does one choose the sacrifice, and how will one live with the consequences of the decision? Francis Crawford of Lymond’s hand is stayed by the redoubtable Philippa Somerville just as he is about to execute the malevolent and malignant Graham Reid Malett a.k.a. Gabriel. In the devastating scene Malett has shockingly revealed that Francis has a baby son who is under his power and if he dies, his son dies. Nevertheless, Francis, knowing the depth of threat Malett represents to the world is determined to carry through killing him after besting him in mortal combat. He is willing to sacrifice one child (Is GRM even telling the truth?) to save thousands.
And a child’s voice, echoing his in turn said, “No!”… No, Mr. Crawford!” cried Philippa forbiddingly, and ducking under the snatching arms that tried to prevent her, she ran forward…..sinking on her knees she shook, in her vehemence, Lymond’s bloodstained arm…There is a baby. You can’t abandon your son!” …Philippa Somerville, who believed in action when words were not enough, had leaned over and snatched the knife from Lymond’s left hand.
It is enough. Gabriel escapes back to the Ottoman Empire as, thanks to Lymond, he is persona non grata anywhere in Europe. There, in this book, he will betray his brothers, the Knights of St. John, and abandon all pretense of Christianity. He will successfully consolidate the power he craves under Suleiman the Magnificent while planning the entrapment and downfall of Lymond using his son as a pawn in the game.
The final scene in the preceding book has Lymond in front of a church altar vowing to find and save his lost son while somehow destroying Gabriel. Pawn in Frankincense is his quest.
We start out in Baden, in the Swiss Confederation, where Philippa, accompanied by Lymond’s sidekick, the usually very confused Jerott Blythe, has snuck away from her mother Kate and tracked Lymond down. She has come, she says, to look after the baby once he is found. One may ask, how could Lymond agree to take a 15 year old schoolgirl, the daughter his one of his closest friends, on such a treacherous journey?
As I have said before, and am now saying for the last time, I cannot tell you with what awe my family and friends, not to mention yours, would receive the idea that I should ship a twelve- year- old girl along the Barbary coast——’
Not surprisingly (if one has gotten to know her) Philippa prevails. And thank God for it. She provides the only safe haven and flashes of light in a book full of tension, fear and horror. Somehow, we know that she will always be all right. She is a master of “the feat of keeping her head, her reason and her sense of the ridiculous amid conditions of civilized lunacy.” Not that she doesn’t have a difficult journey. At one point, Lymond decides he must place killing Gabriel over finding his son and sends Philippa back home. He thinks. Philippa decides to continue the hunt virtually on her own and ends up entering the Sultan’s harem to protect the young toddler (because of course she finds him) from the cruel tentacles of Gabriel. As she writes to her mother, Lymond’s good friend,
Dear Kate. As you will see from the address, I am staying as a concubine in the harem of Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent, son of Sultan Setim Khan, son of Sultan Bayezid Khan, King of Kings, Sovereign of Sovereigns; Commander of All that can be Commanded, Sultan of Babylon, Lord of the White Sea and the Black Sea, most high Emperor of Byzantium and Trebizond, most mighty King of Persia and Arabia, Syria and Egypt, Supreme Lord of Europe and Asia, Prince of Mecca and Aleppo, Possessor of Jerusalem and Lord of the Universal Sea….There are two hundred and ninety- nine other girls here: but no one else from Northumberland. Tell Betty I have the dearest little black page.
We meet and continue our acquaintance with many intriguing characters, some fictional, some not. Some lovable, some not. They include Marthe, a young woman who could be Lymond’s twin. Sybilla’s child? But that’s impossible. Isn’t it? We learn there are two supposedly indistinguishable babies in peril, the other one being Gabriel’s own son from an unspeakable union. At times it seems we are in a retelling of the Odyssey, at others, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Ladyhawke, or an Errol Flynn pirate movie situation. Even once, a very strange romantic comedy fake marriage, one bed trope. At one point, horribly, Sophie’s Choice came to mind.
Dunnett’s books are very cinematic thanks to the lush realism of her descriptions. She is merciless with what she puts Lymond and those he cares for through and they will not emerge triumphant unscathed. In one of the last chapters, I was physically trembling as I read. I love Dorothy Dunnett, but thanks to this at times painful book, I kind of hate her too.
I have had mixed feelings about the very ballyhooed Women’s Fiction/Romcom/Chick Lit author, Emily Henry. She is good, don’t get me wrong, but I do not understand all of the hype considering there are much better and more consistently great authors out there in the same genre. At least in my (not very shared) opinion. Case in point. I believe there are five of her books being adapted for the screen, the last I counted. I approached this one hopefully but not too confidently. I also did not have a great mindset when I started it as I was anxious to get it over with (it was a library book) so I could get back to the very involving historical fiction series I am in the middle of. But I thought it was excellent and right up there with her best. It would have even been 5 stars except for a lame temporary break up of the couple near the end caused by a totally unnecessary and silly inability to communicate what was going on. It could have been done without compromising anyone. I get enough of that irritating and overused plot device with Hallmark. It was out of place here, considering everything which had gone before. That brought it down ½ of a star.
It was a dual time line plot, which we all know can be tricky since almost inevitably the reader is lots more interested in one story than the other. But in this case, both stories were engaging and interesting. (I was surprised and prepared to kind of speed read through the back story one, but to my irritation I had to read every word. Haha.) Two journalists are given the chance to write the authorized biography of a famous former media star and tragic poor little rich girl heiress of yesteryear who has, until journalist #1, Alice, tracks her down, and journalist #2, Hayden, is summoned to her small coastal town, where she has been hiding in plain sight for 20 years. Margaret will allow herself to be interviewed by the competing writers for the right to tell her story in full. But it isn’t long before Alice and Hayden agree that there is something weird going on. Margaret is not telling the whole truth to one or both of them. Alice is a cheerful, gregarious, and likable writer for a light-weight People Magazine type publication. And Haydon is a Pulitzer prize winning serious biographer who is hard, reserved, and moody. You know the drill.
The romance between the two writers was sweet, well paced and believable. I really liked how Hayden opened up and fell so hard for sweetie-pie Alice step by step. It’s told from Alice’s point of view so we know her inner feelings, but Emily Henry did a wonderful job of showing Hayden’s developing inner feelings towards Alice by his words and actions.
“I murmur, “Tell me something no one knows about you,” and he’s quiet and still for so long I start to wonder if I’ve crossed a line. Then he tips his chin down to his clavicle to meet my eyes and says simply, “I’m in love with you.”
For me, authors need to bring a lot more to the table than just a romance, and EH delivered in that department as well. Margaret’s tale of her life, starting with how her great grandfather made his fortune, Her grandfather’s, grandmother’s, father’s and mother’s ups and downs, and then her own romance with a rock idol and her relationship with her almost pathologically shy sister went from at least tolerably interesting to fascinating and gripping. Additionally, as the story developed, some mysteries emerged both in the past and the present. I was in anticipation of the answers and resolutions and hoped for happy outcomes. Alice had a difficult relationship with her mother and the exploration and resolution to that also added a lot of interest to the story. To top it off there was a twist that I didn’t see coming in how Margaret’s narrative of her family results in a reveal about a main character’s history.
There were parts of Margaret’s story that seemed a little weak, especially some decisions she made concerning her relationship with her sister. Didn’t make a whole lot of sense and seemed to be manufactured to create drama. I also wished for more closure to Alice’s relationship with her largely “off screen” boyfriend. Definitely expected him to show up at some point so Alice could give them the heave-ho he so richly deserved. But on the whole, I thought this was almost her best book. But then, I lean towards women’s fiction with the romance not being the be all and end all.
Lymond’s behaviour, as always, went to the limits of polite usage and then hurtled off into space.
**Spoilers**
It is 2 years after the events of the Game of Kings, the 1st of the Lymond Chronicles. Francis Crawford of Lymond has returned to the bosom of his family. His reputation throughout Europe has not only been restored but his talents are held in such high esteem that he is called upon by Mary of Guise, the Dowager Queen of Scotland to come to France with her to protect her daughter, the 7 year old “High and Mighty” Mary, Queen of Scots from rumored danger of assassination.
Notoriously, at some time, every faction in the kingdom had tried to buy Lymond’s services. Nor was the bidding restricted to Scotland, or to statesmen, or to men. Europe, whenever he wished, could provide him— and probably did— with either a workshop or a playground.
He agrees to do so, but on his own terms, making clear that his loyalty is not to the powerful and ambitious Queen Mother, but to Scotland. He will not be her beholden acolyte and in turn, she will not, can not, intercede if he gets into trouble. And thus we are off to the decadent and dissolute French Court of Henry II of France, which Lymond will infiltrate in order to stay close to the threatened little Queen and to discover who is behind the assassination attempts. For indeed, we learn the child’s life is in grave danger. As his disguise he creates a character so eccentric and unlikely that no one will suspect his true identity but will allow him to use the talents and skills that Francis Crawford of Lymond is well known to have mastered. As the fat, perpetually drunk, and slovenly attendant to an unimportant-by-choice Irish Chieftain, he seduces the court:
Each in its nest of gauze and gilt thread, of tissue and taffeta, swathed in silver and satin, in velvet and white fur sugared with diamonds, each face painted, each brow plucked, hair hidden by sparkling hair of raw silk, the well- born of France sat in waxlight and flowers like half a hundred candied sweets in a basket. Last at the last table, soggy gristle next the sugar plums, sat Thady Boy Ballagh.
At levée and reception, at ball and after sport, during meals and after supper parties, Thady was expected as a matter of course. His playing had become as fashionable as a drug. He made music in public and in private for them all: …and already they thought nothing and less than nothing of how he looked. Then, that goal reached, he hardened his long fingers in their entrails of icing and sugar and started to twist.
The plot is complex as are the many characters who people this book. As in G of K, Dunnett expertly fills in the blanks of history with her fictional story ostensibly going on behind the scenes. For example, The main villain was a real person with significant connections to powerful people, but little is known about his actual life or what he may or may not have been up to. Those about whom much is known stay authentic to what history knows about their characters and actions. How Dunnett weaves her fiction around what is factual is nothing less than amazing. Rather than go through the plot and try to touch on all the fascinating characters, both real and imagined, I’ll just mention two characters that stood out for me.
The first is the “wholly spoiled, wholly self-centred, ruthless, neurotic, worldly- wise” character of the French Court itself. It was fascinating and unpredictable. In one of the attempts on Queen Mary’s life, her beloved pet rabbit, Susannah, is stolen and let loose amongst the other prey to be sport to the hunting Cheetahs. As predicted, the little girl escapes her minders and rushes to rescue her pet. In the resulting maelstrom of confusion, panic, and violence, A brave and noble Irish wolfhound, (as well as poor little Susannah) meet heartbreaking ends. The French court, once the little queen is off stage and safe, cheers the Cheetah. They care for nothing but the thrills and excitement provided by bloodlust. Yet, taken individually, many are funny and insightful. Thankfully, because no group of people can perpetually be that dissolute and depraved (can they?), they prove to be capable of change, much to my surprise. Later in the story, a race down from a tower results in the death of many horses and men. Thady boy is framed and blamed for the tragedy and he escapes from the court he once dominated with his talents, wit, and pursuit of pleasure.
“What had been vulgarly clever, in the light of bare exhumation looked bleakly coarse; what had been vivid looked vulgar; what had been witty looked common; what had been forthright looked outrageous. A sense of acute spiritual discomfort hung over the flower of France, the aftermath of its brilliant flare of indulgence. If Thady Boy had come back— a Thady Boy even absolved from the treachery imputed to him— they would have had him beaten from the room by their valets.”
The other character that I became fascinated with was Phelim O’LiamRoe, who, as Thady Boy’s supposed master, provides him with his cover. At first he was kind of a silly non-entity. Intelligent, humorous, cheerful, but having no ambition or purpose to his life at all. He was kind of a bore.
In terms of followers, O’LiamRoe was one of the mightiest chieftains in English-occupied Ireland, except that it had never yet occurred to him to lead them anywhere.
But he starts to change at the death of his noble Luadhus, his dog who threw himself between the deadly cheetah and the little queen. He starts to think and question his life. Meanwhile, he falls deeper in love with a beautiful and fiery Irish revolutionary who holds him in contempt until he proves his mettle with an act of bravery. He convinces her to give him the name of the man who can prove the guilt of the powerful mastermind of the assassination attempts. He will save Mary and also save Lymond from execution. But first they must part.
Her hands lay cold in his. Searching her empty face he said, ‘We shall meet?’ ‘At the fall of night, on the far side of the north wind,’ she said.’ ‘Love me.’ ‘All my days,’ said Phelim O’LiamRoe, Prince of Barrow, dropping into the tongue of his land. ‘Dear stranger, dear mate of my soul: all my days.’ And walking quiet and blind, he let slip her two hands and left.
To the rescue!:
Dark in the misty June morning, Châteaubriant was still. Dim through the painted shutters, the hoof beats of a single horse burst, applauding the cobbles, and were gone.
Before the book ends O’LiamRoe will not only be instrumental in saving Francis from death, but in setting his life on a different more mature and thoughtful path. Thanks partially to him, Francis will become the great leader of men he was destined to be.
Dorothy Dunnett is a wonderful writer. Her prose is beautiful, evocative, and clever. But still, I had my problems with some of the details of the book as much as I admired and enjoyed it.
It seemed pretty impossible that Lymond’s disguise as Thady Boy held up so long and with so many. Keeping his blond roots covered under black dye, his pale skin constantly having to be stained, his slender nimble body disguised under thick padding, all the while bedding God knows how many men and women in the French Court? With a fake stomach? And what about Lymond’s slender delicate fingers which are referred to regularly? That doesn’t track with Thady’s fat pudgy body.
The recuperative powers of two of the characters who were on death’s door one minute and engaging in physical heroics the next reminded me of a Roadrunner cartoon.
Too much knowledge is withheld from the reader and too much important action happens off stage. I found this to be true of Game of Kings as well. When did Lymond figure out who the master villain was and how? Once it is finally revealed to the reader, he claims he already knew who it was. Then why was it so important to send O’LiamRoe to the Tower of London to get his name from his hitman, Robin Stewart? Lymond was released from prison just in time to save the queen. It seemed very easily done without much justification. Some obscure sculptor knew a guy who knew a guy who said so? The bad guy might be guilty, so Lymond must be freed-and immediately? How did they get let in to see the Constable again with Robin Stewart’s undelivered letter? One minute we leave him locked up, and the next he’s free and racing to save the little Queen from being blown to kingdom come with her retinue.
Some things do not bear too much looking into and no doubt a careful reread would set me straight. . But sometimes, even in great books, you just have to roll with it, and revel in the brilliance, not the WTFuckery. Everyone says Dunnett historical research and authenticity is unimpeachable. Sometimes I found some of the fiction parts a little far-fetched. But maybe that’s OK. As Lymond says in Game of Kings,
“Versatility is one of the few human traits which are universally intolerable. You may be good at Greek and good at painting and be popular. You may be good at Greek and good at sport, and be wildly popular. But try all three and you’re a mountebank. Nothing arouses suspicion quicker than genuine, all-round proficiency.”
To the men exposed to his rule Lymond never appeared ill: he was never tired; he was never worried, or pained, or disappointed, or passionately angry. If he rested, he did so alone; if he slept, he took good care to sleep apart. “—I sometimes doubt if he’s human,” said Will, speaking his thought aloud. “It’s probably all done with wheels.
This series first came to my attention probably over 30 years ago. I bought the beautiful Vintage Paperback editions around 25 years ago when a local book seller was having a sale. And there they sat. Looking very pretty and impressive, giving my library a certain intellectual credibility. The series would tap me on the shoulder every so often, but I never seriously considered starting them until recently. I read a recent review from one of my Goodreads friends https://www.goodreads.com/review/show… and I thought “people are still reading these?” Then I read some more reviews, and then I read a few scholarly type blog posts and essays. I started to get excited, but very very intimidated at the prospect of reading the first one, The Game of Kings. But then I thought, “Becky if you’re going to read these before you lose your faculties, you better get a move on. You can do hard things!” So I did.
And it was daunting. It is a deep dive into 16th century history, arts, culture, warfare, and politics that our formidable author assumes you are already familiar with. She also assumes you are fluent in multiple languages. There are no translations or footnotes-those are in a whole separate 400 page book. And a lot of the actual English isn’t that comprehensible either. Here’s an example:
“Johnnie Bullo! Man, I wish you’d take to wearing clappers on your breeches; you’re desperate sore on the arteries. And that last damned powder you gave me would have done Jimmie of Fynnart a twelve- month and pointed up the whole of Linlithgow if you laid it on with a trowel. Will ye bring to mind it’s my inner workings you’re repairing, not the Toll Brig o’ Dumfries.”
The book is peopled with real historical figures both obscure and famous. And Lymond of Crawford, our main character, mostly talks in poetry, double entendres, quotations from sources no modern reader has any business even hearing of, let alone being passing familiar with. “ I wish to God,” said Gideon with mild exasperation, “that you’d talk–just once– in prose like other people.” If Gideon Somerville was not a favorite character before, he certainly was one after that comment to our hero. I almost gave up several times. But I did some more research, trying to take good care to avoid spoilers (though didn’t always succeed), and found out that virtually everyone felt the same way I did at the beginning. But to a man and woman, I was assured that it would get easier and I would be rewarded. I quote from a blog entry called “The Game of Kings in 15 minutes”. https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/… Highly recommend if you’ve already read the novel
RANDOM SCOTTISH PEOPLE: Lymond is back. READERS: And we’ll have to wait hundreds of pages to find out why. LYMOND: *is incomprehensible* PIG: *is drunk* READERS WHO ARE NEW TO THE SERIES: wtf? READERS WHO HAVE READ THE WHOLE SERIES: You’ll learn.
Two things in particular helped me. One, someone wrote that The Game of Kings could be read as a stand alone (I have commitment issues with series books and tv shows) and I discovered a wonderful website improbably named “Now You Have Dunnett” https://nowyouhavedunnett.blogspot.co… for which I am eternally grateful. It took me through each chapter and scene almost paragraph by paragraph, translating the more important foreign language quotes, explaining the context when it was important, giving historical background, and pointing out little things that I might have missed that would become important later on. I would read a chapter, sometimes two and then go back to the website on those chapters to check for understanding. Eventually, I could go for longer and longer periods with confidence before having to check back to make sure I understood what was going on. At about the 25% mark, I not only started to comprehend without help (forgetting the foreign language quotes and esoterica which I just skipped over) but started to see the appeal and actually enjoy what I was reading. I started to get The Scarlet Pimpernel, The Count of Monte Cristo, and unabridged Les Miserables vibes. The first two being youthful favorites re-read many times, and the last reminding me of the feeling of pride and accomplishment as I waded through it without skipping.
So what about the actual book, you may ask? Enough already about your personal relationship with it! Well, as I said, the first sentence of the book is “Lymond is Back”. Back Where? From Where? The setting is Scotland in 1547, a time of war with England and great unrest politically, religiously, and every other way. King Henry the VIII has just died and the English powers that be want his young son Edward, (A.K.A. The Prince of The Prince and The Pauper) to be betrothed to Mary, the 5-year-old Scottish Queen. Loyal Scots do not want that.
We first meet our hero robbing and pillaging a friend of the family’s castle, to insure ultimate chaos, introducing the victim’s pet pig to the joys of adult beverages. Then he moves to his own family’s castle where, drunk, he breaks in with his gang of mercenaries, flirts with his new sister-in-law, robs his mother’s guests, threatens their lives, exchanges barbs with the mother he hasn’t seen for over 5 years, and stabs her best friend. He finishes off his busy day by locking them inside the castle and setting it on fire. Lymond is indeed living down to his reputation as obnoxious, amoral, ruthless, and other synonyms too numerous to list including brilliant and funny. He is a notorious proven traitor to Scotland and an outlaw also wanted for a crime so horrible and shocking that I won’t say what it is. And if possible, the English hate him almost as much as the Scots. But all is not what it seems. No, indeed. Because Lymond is back to *spoiler alert* prove his innocence, restore his reputation as a loyal Scotsman, serve his country, and protect his family. Not an auspicious start, Lymond.
And that is the most detailed I am going to get about the plot. Because if I went on, it would take me a long long time and I wouldn’t know where to stop. There are whole books written about this novel alone, only the first book in the series, as well as on the whole series. But we have many adventures and meet many people both very very good, very very bad, and very in between. Also very clever, wise, and cunning, and very and very obnoxiously thick-headed (I’m looking at you, Richard.) There is espionage, betrayal, revenge, romance, secrets, alchemy, reconciliation, tragedy, comedy, a duel considered one of the best ever written for the page, and a courtroom trial/very welcome info dump to rule them all.
This was Dorothy Dunnett’s first novel. As she says in the forward, she grew in wisdom as she wrote. And I think she meant that she saw the need to make the subsequent books a little more accessible to the other 99% of the population of potential readers. Either that, or a wise editor firmly took her in hand. From all accounts the best are yet to come, so now that I have conquered, that is, managed to survive, this first in the series…Onward
“I loved my big brother,” the younger man said at last. “He stood up for me, even sometimes when he shouldn’t have. And his wife was the greatest person in the world. Judith always treated me like a trusted friend, even though she must have known I could be pretty crooked. I loved my nephew, Levi, who was a weird kid with a brain like a clock. He’d have done great things for the world. And…” He reeled his gaze in from the far distance to meet Holmes’ eyes. “I love my niece. I let her down when she needed me, and the decisions I made after that might not have been the right ones. But I won’t do it again. Not with anything that matters.” Oh, Jacob, Holmes thought sadly. You just had to add that caveat at the end, didn’t you?
While all of Laurie R. King’s mysteries, afterDreaming Spies have been top tier for me, the one before this one, Lantern’s Dance was on the level of her earlier books and one of the later ones, The Murder of Mary Russell. There definitely have been some peaks and valleys along the way, as is to be expected in a long series. But as with another historical mystery series I was devoted to, Anne Perry’s Charlotte and Thomas Pitt books, they will continue to be auto-buys for me on both Kindle and Hardcover as long as they continue.
In this one, we are re-introduced to Mary’s long lost Uncle Jake. We had met Jake before in a short story, Mary’s Christmas. (Found in Mary Russell’s War.) That little adventure occurred when Mary was 11 years old and her brother and parents were still alive. Reading that story first is not necessary, but would add to the enjoyment of this book. Jake, who was disowned from the Russell Family for bad behavior, shows up on Russell and Holmes’ doorstep after they have returned home from the wedding of Holmes’ son, Damian Adler. Significantly, Jake appears after Holmes leaves to meet with his brother Mycroft at his request about an “old case that had come to life.” As it turns out, Mycroft wants Holmes’ help in locating the stolen Irish Crown Jewels. New information has come to light in this case that Holmes originally investigated back in 1907. His recommendations were ignored, and the jewels were never recovered. The robbery is true history and the mystery of what became of the Jewels is still unsolved to this day. LRK always incorporates real historical figures and events into her books. It is a big part of their appeal for me.
Meanwhile, back in Sussex, Jake asks Mary’s help in locating the same jewels. He was an accomplice in their theft which just might be one reason why Jake has taken pains not to cross paths with the great detective. Even though it goes against her own ethical values and will potentially put her at odds with her husband, Mary decides to accompany Jake to Ireland to try to find the treasure. Despite everything, he was her childhood hero and she still feels love and loyalty towards him. But unbeknownst to Jake, Mary ensures that Holmes will follow them by leaving him clues as to her whereabouts. And that she is safe. When Holmes returns to their empty home and reads Mary’s seemingly innocuous note, it doesn’t take him long to figure it all out. He has no interest in assisting Mycroft find the jewels, but he is very very interested in the health and safety of his wife. Mary and Jake are not alone together in their quest for long.
The books in this series are usually told primarily from Mary’s first person point of view. Sometimes we also switch to Sherlock Holmes’ 3rd person perspective. In this one we also have Jake’s 1st person account of the adventure and it is interesting to see glimpses of Russell and Holmes through his eyes. I love the way Laurie differentiated the first person narration of Mary and her Uncle Jake. Mary says “One could hear America in his voice.” And this was true on the page as well.
My enjoyment of the book was somewhat compromised in that I really did not like Jake right from the get go, and my dislike did not diminish much as the book went on. I found myself rooting for some kind of takedown. I found him shifty and smug, and his supposed charm was lost on me. He is never truthful with Holmes or Mary unless it suits his interests. The fact that they saw through him from the beginning and still he persisted in trying to obfuscate made me feel contempt as well as distaste. We weren’t meant to trust him or take him at face value, so maybe those feelings were unfair. Even the reveal of his true motives at the end did not restore him to my good graces.
As always in the books, Holmes and Mary spend a good deal of time apart, but that only heightens the anticipation for when they meet up again. I’ve long since stopped hoping for warmth or any obvious loving intimacy between the two. In fact, I don’t know what I would think if their feelings for each other were conspicuous rather than between the lines. This is what passes as grand romance between the two:
He stared at me, seated firmly on a man’s back, then saw the front of my coat. “You’re bleeding!” he exclaimed. I looked down at my front, and my hands. “It’s not mine. The dogs—” But to my surprise, he yanked me to my feet, and flung his arms around me. Then, more reassuringly, he stood back and seized both my shoulders to berate me.
After the matter of the Jewels are satisfactorily disposed of, we are left to wonder if we will ever see Jake again. I wouldn’t bet against it. But I hope it won’t be for a while. Another character is introduced in this one that I know will become a fixture, at least for a while. And we still have Mycroft’s reaction to the secret revealed in the last book to look forward to. The perfect ending. **4 1/2 stars**
