New Book Review - The Diary of a Murder

Before I plunge into my book review, just a reminder of the contest for a free copy of The Fourth Wish, in Kindle or paperback (winner's choice). To read the rules for the contest -- which ends Friday, September 9th -- go here. (Please comment for the contest on that post so I can keep your points straight.)


Many of you know I like to read mysteries and historical novels when I'm not reading children's books. And I indulged in quite a few adult reads (and reviewed them) while I was recuperating from my foot surgery. So this is one last review of a book that combines both mystery and a historical setting: Victorian London, when streets were foggy, and you could hear the clop-clop-clop of horse hooves against cobblestones as doomed victims set off in carriages, and cases were solved without a swat team kicking in a door and waving guns. The book is The Diary of a Murder, by Lee Jackson. I bought the print version, but I see it is also out in Kindle now (in the UK).


A bit of background for this discovery: While gathering information for my middle grade mystery set in Victorian London (which is a tamer tale indeed), I came across Lee Jackson's wonderful website, called (appropriately) Victorian London. In it you will find a treasure trove of Victoriana. He provides a dictionary listing various topics, from maps, to transportation, whatever; and a click on any one topic will take you to a wealth of original sources (including Mrs. Beeton's Book of Household Management, under Diet, where you can see what meals to plan for each month of the year in 1861. Mr. Jackson also provides some of the original "penny dreadfuls" for your reading pleasure. And he has a wonderful blog called The Cat's Meatshop, well worth following. The Diary of a Murder is his seventh mystery novel, and he has also published two nonfiction books: Victorian London and A Dictionary of Victorian London, An A-Z of the Great Metropolis.  And renowned mystery writer, Andrew Taylor, has said, "No one knows Vicorian London as Lee Jackson does -- historical fictin doesn't come more authentic than this."

On to the the review:
The Willises are concerned because their married daughter, Dora Jones, has disappeared after planning to visit them in Chelsea. When Sergeant Preston and a constable go to the Jones's home to investigate, they find the daughter brutally murdered and the pages of a diary scattered about. The diary is by Dora's husband, Jacob Jones, a clerk at the Crystal Palace. But Jacob appears to have fled the scene. Detective Inspector Delby is called in, and the story unfolds in chapters that alternate between Jacob Jones's diary, and the investigation by the inspector and the sergeant.

The story that follows reveals a doting husband, a humble clerk, who married above his station (Dora's father is a draper, and rich, and does not like young Jacob). Jacob gushes about his sweet wife,  confesses his yearnings to be a writer, admits his frustrations with his in-laws, who seem snobbish and conservative. He also has an alcoholic father whom he has bailed out of financial difficulties more than once. A reader has to sympathize with his plight. And Dora's, as well, because when she miscarries, she goes into a deep depression, and Jacob hasn't a clue to how to pull her out of it.

But wait. His sweet wife knows nothing of Jacob's drunkard father. Jacob has invented entirely another background for himself. And how devoted is Jacob  really as he showers the sweet Dora with pet names and repeatedly worries for her health? And is he the pushover he makes himself out to be when he helps a young seamstress living with his father find employment first with a neighbor, then in Papa Willis's work-room? And why does he aid his co-worker, Fortesque, who is in deep trouble over mismanaging company funds? You have to wonder about someone who knows himself so little. Likewise Delby and Preston scratch their heads continually over the ups and downs of Jones's diary as Jacob's own troubles mount, his writing grows more and more desperate - but sometimes calculating.

This is a good read to the last page, full of a multitude of surprises, and I didn't see the end coming at all.

The French Connection

While getting ready for my surgery, I started accumulating books over the past few months, some from used book stores and some from Borders. (Alas, I won't be doing the latter anymore.)  Some were adult books, and some were children's books. I started on the adult stack first, and was I ever surprised: Apparently my week in Paris a couple of summers ago burned its imprint into my unconscious; five of the books take place either partially or entirely in Paris. They are too many to review, so consider this post a thumbnail sharing of each.

I'll start with my least favorite first, Gourmet Rhapsody, by Muriel Barbery. I'm sorry to put it that way, too, because my purchase was motivated by how charmed I had been by Barbery's first book, The Elegance of the Hedgehog. In Hedgehog, a young girl has given herself a date on which she'll commit suicide unless she can find enough reasons not to. I know that sounds like a morbid story, but the book captures small, luminous moments of beauty that make life truly worth living. So I was expecting to be deeply moved again in Gourmet. Nope: A food critic lies on his deathbed, hoping to capture a favorite flavor that he can't quite identify in memory. Acquaintances and family each have a turn at sharing what they recall about this thoroughly unlikeable man. That's it, folks. some exquisite writing, because this author cannot turn out a bad line, but for me, the plot was . . . missing in action (pun intended).

But, next I read Cara Black's  Murder in the Bastille.  Black is one of my favorite mystery writers.  Her series stars Aimée Leduc, a private eye for white collar techie matters who keeps getting dragged into murder cases instead.  To read any one in the series is to get a free trip to Paris.  Black knows that city inside and out and places each new mystery in a different neighborhood.  Because Aimée grew up in Paris, naturally she has little snippets of memory about buildings she passes or bridges or streets she traverses, and so in a completely non-intrusive way, the reader picks up scraps of French history and art history while Aimée chases or runs from the bad guys.  Black's website is equally interesting: Press here and go take a peek.

Then I read The Girl at the Lion d'Or by Sebastian Faulks.  This is a  carefully sculpted story of a young girl cast adrift following World War I.  It takes place in a small village outside of Paris where Anne has taken employment as a waitress in the Hotel Lion D'Or of the title.  Her story unfolds by degrees: Her father was falsely accused of cowardice at  Verdun and shot.  Because of accusations, Anne and her mother were hounded out of their village and went to Paris.  With no one to turn to after her mother dies, Anne hopes to find a new life at the Lion D'Or.  She falls in love with a married man, a relationship that traces a doomed arc.  Ultimately this is a sad, haunting story about what it means to be a survivor.

The last two books of this French Connection are choices strangely related, though I didn't notice it at the time, since I bought them on two different occasions.

I had never read The Three Musketeers, by Alexandre Dumas (one of oh, so many classics I've never read, although I had seen different movie versions of the story.)  So, I picked it up one day, thinking it was about time, and put it in my TBR stack.  Well, this story rocks, and so does the writing!  There really is a reason why some books become so renowned.  The very first chapter sets the stage for the book: Three important characters are introduced: the hotheaded D'Artignon, who wants to be a musketeer, the mysterious, mustached stranger, who steals his letter of introduction to Treville, and the lovely but dangerous Milady.  From that point the story moves from adventure to adventure, building  momentum and tension to the very last.  I loved this book and will probably read it again.


Imagine my surprise when I started reading The Club Dumas, by Arturo Pérez-Reverte.  I was drawn to this book for a number reasons: the author is Spanish, and I'm trying to find Spanish writers translated into English to get more of a feel of Spain. (This is in English, by the way.  I'm a long way off from being able to read a book in Spanish.)  Also, part of the story takes place in Paris (yes, Paris).  It's about books and book collectors.  And it's a mystery.  (And I love mysteries.)  So, I thought, "Hey, this looks interesting."  Well, it is.  And also very weird.  I think at times it borders on magical realism, since there is one mysterious character I still couldn't figure out even at the end, when loose threads are tied up.  But an intriguing part of the mystery is how the main characters start falling into the roles of various characters in The Three Musketeers.  There's a parallel mystery involving a book by a heretic burned at the stake hundreds of years ago, but the Musketeers connection is what added spice to the mix for me.  I also appreciated that, while dead bodies appeared periodically, the author didn't dwell on all the gory details of the corpses and concentrated instead on the story.


That's it for today.  I'll be posting about other books from my stack later, but these five seemed to belong together in the same post.  Meanwhile, since I've off my usual track of talking about Children's books and YA's, if any of you have good mysteries to recommend, please include them in your comments.  Look forward to reading both comments and suggestions.

Book Review -- Dissolution

Normally I review chidren's or YA books on this blog, but during my recuperation period I've been catching up with some adult reading. What a treat, really. I love kid lit, but occasionally I miss, you know, fat paragraphs, long sentences, bigger vocabulary. So I'll be reporting on those good reads for awhile, some as reviews, and some simply as musings on what I've read.

Recently I had the pleasure of reading J. L. Campbell's fine book, Dissolution, set in contemporary Jamaica.

Sherryn and Reece (short for Maurice) have a nice home, a passionate relationship, and five children that brighten their lives. Reece owns his own business. Sherryn has her own home business baking and decorating cakes. Life is good. Then one day the doorbell rings, and Sherryn opens the door to find a scantily clad, bejeweled woman who thrusts a young boy into the room -- a boy who looks exactly like Sherryn's husband and is even named Maurice. Thus begins a painful journey for both Sherryn and Reece as they struggle with the unintended consequences of a festering and prolonged quarrel that led to Reese's sole one-night stand five years earlier.

Both Sherryn and Reese are likeable characters with a mixture of sterling virtues and all too human flaws.  Reece grew up in a ghetto, abandoned by parents, semi-raised by another tenant, and determined to make something better of his own life.  He's a good father, a devoted husband, a proud businessman.  But he can't break ties to friends in his old neighborhood, especially Ronald, who seems always in trouble.  And his early life has made him controlling, wanting to keep his wife dependent.  Sherryn has a big heart, loves her husband and family and friends.  But, when angry, she shuts down and won't communicate, resorting to the cold, silent treatment.  And she's very independent.

Gloria, the one-night stand, has been blackmailing Reece for years.  She has two other children by another blackmail victim, vindictively delivering the children to their fathers when they don't agree to her higher priced silence.  Ronald proves a complicated friend: He's the one friend Reece can talk to, but solves many of his own problems by violence and gives very poor advice.

All of the characters are beleveably portrayed, including the children.  I feel I would recognize any one of them were I to meet them in person.

As for plot, the author keeps things moving:  Stunned by her husband's infidelity, Sherryn is nonetheless filled with compassion for the little boy, Maurice Jr., who has obviously been neglected and mistreated. She can't help nurturing him, while still torturing herself about what kind of relationship exactly her husband had with Gloria.  Their children accept the situation, but even as Maurice is welcomed into the family, Sherryn cannot forgive her husband.  All of this is just for starters!  Then, when things seem to be getting better, they get worse.  Just when you think they can't get any worse -- they do.  Lots worse!  Before the books end someone is murdered.  Who is the victim?  And who did it?

You'll have to read the story.

Book Review Friday -- The Ghost Downstairs, and Nocturne

It's Book Review Friday again, and today I want to mention two books: 

One I reviewed for Saramento Book Review , Nocturne, by L. D. Harkrader

One is an e-book I won in a giveaway contest, The Ghost Downstairs, by Molly Ringle.  

I'll share The Ghost Downstairs first:

The Ghost Downstairs   by Molly Ringle

For some reason I was not able to upload a picture of the jacket, but you can see it at Molly's site.  Normally I only review children's books or YAs on this blog, and this book actually falls closer to adult than YA.  But I love ghost stories, and I love a mystery.  This book has both, as well as a steamy romance (thus the "adult" comment).  

I don't want to give the plot away, because the whole idea is so original.  Let me just say that The Ghost Downstairs involves ghosts (two of them), broken hearts (two of them), manslaughter, suicide, and a young man with a mysterious past.  The story unfolds with one surprise after another and the ending was the biggest surprise of all.  Once I started reading it, I simply had to finish it.  Go check it out for yourself.  

And thanks, Molly, for an enjoyable read! 

Next is Nocturne, a YA novel with lots of atmostphere.  No ghosts , but  magic, mystery, and the question of who to trust. . . . .

Nocturne

By L.D. Harkrader
Mirrorstone, $9.95, 245 pages

Fifteen years ago, Flannery Lane was left on the doorstep of the village wizard, Monsieur Anatole. A mysterious note advised, she will do better with someone of her own kind. Monsieur Anatole has raised Flannery as his niece, admonishing her never to use her own magic. Why? Magic draws evil to itself.

“Flan squared herself before the immense gates, and as she stood there, searching for a bell or knocker on the fat stone pillar, the gates groaned and swung open.” 

But, it’s hard not to use natural talent. At fifteen, Flan surreptitiously dabbles in small spells. An incident at the local blacksmith’s earlier eroded villagers’ trust in Anatole’s protective magic. People come to him now only for simple amulets and spells. When a sudden curse weakens his powers, he becomes bedridden. Flannery tries to cure his curse while keeping his condition secret. Two mysterious strangers come to town. Each takes an interest in Flan: one claims he wants to become a vampire hunter. But, does he? The other claims he’s a relative of the last Viscount Blakely, the vampire hunter who protected the village when he was alive. But, is he? People disappear. A violin plays a nocturne in the still of the night.

This suspenseful tale brings new surprises on each page, and the author avoids a predictable ending.