Category: books

books

The Seven and a Half Deaths of Eveyln Hardcastle

KellieAnn

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Have you ever seen the funny, slightly dark comedy Groundhog Day, in which the hilarious Bill Murray lives the same iconic day over and over again?

How about the prim and proper BBC show Downton Abbey, where a family of British aristocrats intermingle and share the drama with their colorful and full-bodied staff?

Have you read any of Agatha Christie’s novels where puddles in the alcove, open windows, and missing keys all carry their weight in significance and intrigue?

Have you played the board game Clue, in which you have nearly a dozen rooms, colorful suspects, old-fashioned weapons, and a pair of dice to solve a crime?

If you answered yes to any of the above, then you will have some understanding of Stuart Turton’s mind-bending murder mystery, The Seven and a Half Deaths of Eveyln Hardcastle.  It is a healthy mix of all of those stories, with a sprinkling of The Twilight Zone, along with its own unique twists, turns, drops of blood, dark corridors, rainy nights, and distant gunshots.

Nineteen years after a mysterious murder at the Blackheath House, the family and associates are lured back to the estate on the anniversary of the death of young Thomas Hardcastle.  However, this time, it’s his older sister Evelyn’s life that is in danger.

Turton has basically written a love story to Agatha Christie with this creative work.  While his narrative is completely original, it smacks on every page of Christie’s genius plot turns and vivid characterizations.  I felt exactly the same way I did when I read And Then There Were None, when I got to the deliciously frustrating point that I couldn’t figure out any possible way the mystery would be solved…but then it did!  Turton’s tale has the same elements of desperation, intrigue, and mind-baffling clues, which all resolve in a way you could never in a million years see coming.

As a reader and lover of the traditional classics, I am always wondering which of my current, contemporary reads may be the next modern classic.  Which one can stand the test of time?  Which one has reached the lofts of the literary greats?  Which one will be reread and recommended time and time again?  Which will have characters, themes, and plot twists which will not be forgotten?  I honestly believe that The Seven and Half Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle could be one.

Read it.  Take some Ibuprofen for the slight headache you’ll develop.  Then read some more.

books

The Little Paris Bookshop Review

KellieAnn

I had never heard of this book, The Little Paris Bookshop, by Nina George, when I picked it up and added it to my growing stack of books that I was purchasing at B&N with a generous Christmas gift card.  I bought it on the basis of the back cover description:

Monsieur Perdu is a literary apothecary.  From his floating bookstore in a barge on the Seine, he prescribes novels for the hardships of life.  Using his intuitive feel for the exact book a reader needs, Perdu mends broken hearts and souls.  The only person he can’t seem to heal is himself; he’s still haunted by heartbreak after his great love disappeared.  She left him with only a letter that he has never opened…

The description goes on for another paragraph or so, but honestly they had me at “literary apothecary” and “floating bookstore.”  Just stop.  Take my money.

Reading this book was a little bit of a lesson in bait and switch for me.  Surprisingly enough, I didn’t like this book…like, at all.  The idea of it is so, so good, but about a third of the way in, I was completely disappointed, and I could hardly stand it.

The majority of my letdown centers around the protagonist, Jean Perdu, who basically turns out to be a putz. That line from above: “…a letter that he has never opened,”… Well, I just lazily glazed over that in making my decision to purchase and read this book, being blinded by the idea of a cozy, floating book clinic, but that point became infuriating to me as the plot progressed.  Perdu is the apothecary, but he’s the one who needs healing (…and honestly, if I was his apothecary, a good kick in the pants).  I probably could have endured Perdu and his simpering moody quirks with more patience if I had any enthusiasm for some of the other characters…but I didn’t.  I didn’t like or relate to any of them.

Aside from the glaring lack of any good, admirable characters, I felt the plot was also a bit of a mess.  Without giving away any spoilers, Perdu ends up taking a physical and emotional journey on his barge, and I struggled throughout it with his stops and detours and the very vague points I think the author was trying to make by them.  The plot meandered, ironically like a barge, through the waters of Perdu’s angst, insecurities, and disappointments without ever satisfying this reader with anything that looked like real healing or redemption.

I was just so over Perdu and his self-pity and stagnant intentions that I raced through the last third of the book just to see how it ended.  The only satisfaction I had at the conclusion was that it did, indeed, end, and I could start my next, hopefully better, read.

While I’m not alone in my opinion of The Little Paris Bookshop, there are plenty who seemed to like this book and champion Perdu and his odd journey. Nina George isn’t a horrible writer.  The prose was well crafted, and I did jot down a few quaint quotes into my literature journal.  However, I just can’t bring myself to prescribe (Ha!  See what I did there?) this novel to anyone.