Tuesday, 17 June 2025

Review: The Murder of Roger Ackroyd

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Significantly better than the previous novel in the series ( The Murder on the Links ), and I'm not sure whether that's because of Hastings' absence or despite it.

What I mean is that Hastings was an actual impediment in Links, but here I felt Poirot was different without him, as if the Poirot-and-Hastings collaboration was itself almost a character. But Poirot finds a kind of substitute in the doctor who narrates this book, taking him with him while he investigates (like Hastings, and like the young doctors in Austin Freeman, he seems to have a lot of leisure time despite theoretically having a job), and bouncing ideas off him. Poirot remains, as always, inscrutable about his conclusions from the various clues, until the traditional gathering of the suspects for the dramatic reveal.

And it is dramatic. The twist in this particular book is famous, and I did know about it in advance, but even so, I found it hard to spot the clues. It all comes down to timing, like so many mystery stories.

The process, the incidental human stories that get revealed (as usual in this sort of cosy mystery, everyone has some sort of secret; Poirot explicitly says to a group of the suspects that he knows each of them is hiding something), and the clever solution are all at a high standard by classic mystery measures. The doctor's sister alone is worth the price of admission: the centre of the village gossip network, she's better than a newspaper at gathering, generating and disseminating rumour and speculation, which varies from highly accurate to highly inaccurate, but which she always delivers with the same level of confidence. The romance subplots are a little weak, particularly without Hastings and his susceptibility to redheads, and the police's main suspect is offstage for almost the entire novel and a near-nonentity once he does appear, but it still lands right at the top of the Silver tier of my annual recommendation list.

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Sunday, 15 June 2025

Review: The Crimson Circle

The Crimson Circle The Crimson Circle by Edgar Wallace
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A rip-roaring suspense thriller in which a blackmailer, extortionist and murderer is pursued by a stolid Scotland Yard detective and a private investigator who is more the policeman's colleague than his rival.

Wealthy men are receiving notes marked with a crimson circle, telling them to pay large amounts of money or be killed. Several are killed - to encourage the others - and much blame falls on the Scotland Yard man for not preventing the deaths, or making much progress on identifying the criminal. Because it is, mainly, a single criminal, who finds out people's guilty secrets and uses a carrot-and-stick approach to get them to do key elements of the crimes, without being able to recognize each other or him thanks to strict compartmentalization. It reminds me of a classic science fiction story about what's basically a prediction of Taskrabbit, which is used to get people to do acts, innocent in themselves, that add up to criminality or resistance to authority - though here the stooges are usually fully aware that their actions are criminal or contributing to a crime. (If anyone knows the story I'm thinking of - which could be by Simak or Heinlein or someone of that era, though it might be one of the cyberpunks, maybe even Cory Doctorow - please let me know in the comments.)

Weaving through the narrative is a young woman, who seems at various times to be a thief, one of the stooges, perhaps a murderer, maybe even the Crimson Circle. A young man is in love with her despite himself, which was the aspect of the story I found weakest. Wallace's romances are generally not well motivated or well developed, and this is no exception. The young man's father is one of the early victims, and seemingly the only one whose death is really regrettable, extremely wealthy or powerful men being what they are.

The stakes are raised when the Crimson Circle threatens a dozen cabinet ministers, and the policeman, who has just been basically fired for incompetence, is kept on in order to work alongside the private detective at the latter's insistence. The final reveal is a big twist, and makes sense of something that seemed a departure from the usual Wallace approach when it first appeared. All throughout, it seemed like people knew things they shouldn't, but the twist explains a lot (not all) of this.

There's plenty of tension and drama and action along the way, and all in all, it's a strong book of its type, namely highly-coloured pulp thriller. No wonder so many of Wallace's books were filmed.

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Friday, 13 June 2025

Review: The Glorious and Epic Tale of Lady Isovar

The Glorious and Epic Tale of Lady Isovar The Glorious and Epic Tale of Lady Isovar by Dave Dobson
My rating: 0 of 5 stars

A fairly typical "funny" fantasy, in that it's trying much too hard to be funny and not succeeding nearly as well as it thinks it is (IMO). It alternates chapters between a warrior woman who has one of those egos so large that it bends reality around itself - at least for the owner of the ego - and her squire or, really, minder, whose job appears to be to prevent her causing bloody disasters through getting hold of the wrong end of the stick and refusing to be corrected, and also to keep her alive. This is fairly amusing, but it's just laid on much too thick (especially in the Isovar chapters), and the setting is the usual off-the-shelf sword-and-sorcery world. I stopped reading at 18%.

On the upside, it is much better edited than the other books I've read by the same author, though there are still a few issues.

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Thursday, 12 June 2025

Review: Angel Esquire

Angel Esquire Angel Esquire by Edgar Wallace
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I read this at the recommendation of my wife, who had just listened to it on Librevox. She was right - it was amusing as well as action-packed. There are no shortage of villains; even the romantic male lead is a bit of a villain, though he despises himself for it.

The premise is one of those "wills with puzzles" that seem to have been such a popular trope for detective novelists. The former owner of a casino in Egypt has died, and left his giant fortune - or rather, the opportunity to access his giant fortune by solving a puzzle - to three people: two of his former confederates, and the daughter of a man whose ruin came about through gambling at the casino in question.

Christopher Angel, known as Angel Esquire, an odd sort of special inspector at Scotland Yard, takes an interest on behalf of the female heir, who is frankly a bit weaksauce, especially when compared with some of Wallace's intrepid heroines; she does almost nothing to influence the course of events, and is mostly there to be rescued and explained to, and to be fallen in love with by one of the former confederates of the casino owner. She is also, by a convenient coincidence that keeps the cast tight and puts her and her protectors in danger, the former secretary of a publisher who published a book that may hold the clue to the puzzle, and who gave a copy to her for no particular reason. By another convenient coincidence of the same kind, the author of the book is a close associate of the gang of ruffians who are after the puzzle solution, though that doesn't help them much, since he's suffering from dementia. The puzzle solution, in the end, is not that difficult and a bit of a let-down.

Apart from those two convenient coincidences and the weak female lead, though, it's enjoyable, funny, quirky, and full of well-described action.

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Monday, 9 June 2025

Review: The Duke of York's Steps

The Duke of York's Steps The Duke of York's Steps by Henry Wade
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A twisty piece of classic detective fiction.

An elderly banker with a known health condition (an aneurism that could easily burst under stress) dies of exactly this cause after being jostled by someone hurrying down the steps of the title. It's treated as something between an accident and natural causes, until his daughter raises suspicions. Why has the person who jostled him not come forward, even in response to her advertisements, to apologize for any part he might have had in the death?

With this slim suspicion to go on, Inspector Poole begins to investigate. The dead man's son looks a likely suspect: he has motive (he badly needed money, and his father was about to cut him out of his will for his latest escapade with an unsuitable young woman), and his alibi is thin and implausible. But before the mystery is wrapped up, Poole will spread his net wide and encounter more than one shocking twist.

I did guess about halfway through both the motive for the murder and who was behind it, though there were a couple more twists I didn't see coming at all. One of them I wasn't a big fan of; serious spoiler in the tags. (view spoiler)

It's cleverly done, though, and I would definitely read another by the same author, though at the moment this is the only one on Project Gutenberg.

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Review: Room 13

Room 13 Room 13 by Edgar Wallace
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I'm starting to have more respect for Edgar Wallace. In his own time, he was seen as a prolific hack, producing highly-coloured sensational literature to thrill the undiscerning public, but they aren't just written to a formula or full of easy pulp tropes. Each one I've read so far is distinctly different, and the plots are clever and gripping. The characters, while not having a great deal of depth, are also distinct, and behave in understandable human ways.

This is particularly true here. John Gray has just got out of prison, where he was serving time for swapping out a racehorse for a "ringer". While he's been away, his beloved, Marney, has got engaged to someone else, who she and her father (a retired criminal who has raised Marney "straight" and not told her where his money came from) think is an honest man, in contrast to Gray.

This is, unfortunately, not true. Gray arrives to find her married to someone he recognizes as a notorious forger and the son of Marney's father's former partner, who went to prison for shooting a policeman on their last job together, while Marney's father got away clean. He's resentful and wants vengeance (and money; he believes his old partner hasn't given him his fair share). So he's set up this marriage as part of his vengeance plot and to give himself more leverage.

In the course of the story, it looks pretty bad for Gray a few times; his rival gets shot while he is suspiciously nearby, and more violence, kidnapping, and murder ensue. Meanwhile, the name of J.G. Reeder keeps coming up, attached to a fussy older man who is thought to be some kind of bank detective.

It's suspenseful, fast-moving and full of period criminal slang - I suspect Wallace did some research, perhaps just in the form of talking to a criminal or ex-criminal and asking them about the slang, and wanted to make full use of it. But the slang is never confusing or obscure.

Overall, a solid suspense novel, and I'll be reading more from this author.

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Review: Room 13

Room 13 Room 13 by Edgar Wallace
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I'm starting to have more respect for Edgar Wallace. In his own time, he was seen as a prolific hack, producing highly-coloured sensational literature to thrill the undiscerning public, but they aren't just written to a formula or full of easy pulp tropes. Each one I've read so far is distinctly different, and the plots are clever and gripping. The characters, while not having a great deal of depth, are also distinct, and behave in understandable human ways.

This is particularly true here. John Gray has just got out of prison, where he was serving time for swapping out a racehorse for a "ringer". While he's been away, his beloved, Marney, has got engaged to someone else, who she and her father (a retired criminal who has raised Marney "straight" and not told her where his money came from) think is an honest man, in contrast to Gray.

This is, unfortunately, not true. Gray arrives to find her married to someone he recognizes as a notorious forger and the son of Marney's father's former partner, who went to prison for shooting a policeman on their last job together, while Marney's father got away clean. He's resentful and wants vengeance (and money; he believes his old partner hasn't given him his fair share). So he's set up this marriage as part of his vengeance plot and to give himself more leverage.

In the course of the story, it looks pretty bad for Gray a few times; his rival gets shot while he is suspiciously nearby, and more violence, kidnapping, and murder ensue. Meanwhile, the name of J.G. Reeder keeps coming up, attached to a fussy older man who is thought to be some kind of bank detective.

It's suspenseful, fast-moving and full of period criminal slang - I suspect Wallace did some research, perhaps just in the form of talking to a criminal or ex-criminal and asking them about the slang, and wanted to make full use of it. But the slang is never confusing or obscure.

Overall, a solid suspense novel, and I'll be reading more from this author.

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Friday, 6 June 2025

Review: The Summer War

The Summer War The Summer War by Naomi Novik
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Naomi Novik is what Neil Gaiman calls an "otter" author; unlike a dolphin, an otter won't do the same trick each time. So her stuff is sometimes very much to my taste ( Spinning Silver ), sometimes very much not (the Scholomance books), and sometimes somewhere in between (Temeraire).

Happily, this one worked very well for me, even though it's about the Fae (the word is never used, but that's clearly what the Summerlings are), and I'm wary of Fae books because... well, because there are too many of them, and some are not good.

This version of the Fae is very much like the legends. They're bound by their word, they have a completely different set of values from humans, they have a completely different sense of time and will hold a grudge for human generations and seek to wipe out an insult in all human blood, they're beautiful and mysterious and closely linked with nature. These particular ones are linked, in particular, with summer, and it's only in summer - very generously defined - that the Green Bridge from their country to the human lands exists. Which is fine when they're trading, not so great when they are invading every year that they remember that a human king insulted the sister of the Summerling prince when he married her, causing her to commit suicide. (They don't always remember. Their memory is different from that of humans too.)

This war went on for a hundred years, and was ended by the protagonist's father before she was born (to an illegitimate daughter of the king, whose hand he obtained as a reward for winning the war through the same cunning that got him a fox as his emblem).

The protagonist, Celia, is, therefore, a descendant of a Sorceress Queen from long before, and manifests sorcery herself for the first time in many generations - accidentally cursing her brother in the process. She then sets about trying to fix her mistake, with the help of their disregarded middle brother, and ends up caught in the continuing aftermath of the original grievance of the summerling prince and also the complications ensuing from the way the war was ended.

Celia makes an excellent protagonist. She's intelligent, level-headed and creative, like her father. She's also good-hearted, and wants the best outcome for everyone, if she can just figure out how to get it.

Along the way she discovers, by allying with the middle brother, that you can choose to love someone, and that doing so is generally the best move. There's some wonderful family-dynamics stuff in general: father/son misunderstandings, and siblings not understanding each other either, admiring or being jealous of or ignoring each other, and eventually communicating.

It's beautifully written, with evocative descriptions of a well-imagined summer court, but not to the point of being overwritten or showing off. The plot is well conceived; it drew me along because I wanted to know, and couldn't imagine, how Celia (and her brothers) could possibly manage to bring about a good outcome for all concerned.

I've marked it as YA, mainly because Celia is 12 at the start of the book and 15 by the end, but it's like T. Kingfisher's young protagonists in that it's fully enjoyable by an adult reader. In fact, it's very like T. Kingfisher in general.

Good stuff, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was nominated for a few awards. It has enough depth and originality, too, that I'm putting it in the Gold tier of my annual best books list.

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Thursday, 5 June 2025

Review: Kate Plus Ten

Kate Plus Ten Kate Plus Ten by Edgar Wallace
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Kate is a young woman (in her late teens) who has been raised by her uncle, a career criminal, and absorbed his attitude to law and order. She doesn't commit crimes herself, but she's brilliant at planning them in exhaustive detail for other people to commit.

Mike is a mass of contradictions. He's heir to a title of nobility (early on, we're told the current holder is his sickly cousin, but later it changes to his brother without notice), but he also holds radical economic views - not just fashionable Socialism but something more complicated. Yet this doesn't prevent him from living, in part, off inherited wealth and keeping a manservant and a cook. It also doesn't prevent him from becoming a police inspector, first through the Special Branch (more or less the UK equivalent of the US Secret Service; they protect politicians and investigate threats to the state), and then transferring to the CID for reasons that are brushed past quickly.

Together, Kate and Mike fight about crime. He knows she's planning something. She knows he knows. He tries to convince her to give up crime; she counters that her only alternative is to be severely underpaid in some soul-deadening job and regularly hit on by her male employers. No thanks!

Kate isn't the only young woman in the book (though I don't remember the two of them having a full conversation about anything). There's also Lady Moya, daughter of one of the marks for Kate's latest heist. Mike once asked her to marry him, but their views on life were incompatible. She gets engaged to one of her father's business associates, but then she meets a young artist... This subplot isn't at all closely related to the main plot, but Moya serves as a thematic counterpart or foil to Kate. Both of them are "New Women," starting to make their own decisions in life about money and romance and the relative value of the two.

It's quite a short book to have two plots, even though the Moya subplot isn't that complicated, and yet the author does manage to raise some philosophical questions and give his characters inner as well as outer conflicts. In his lifetime, Wallace was seen as a prolific hack, but this is decent work which stands up well against a lot of today's authors. The heist is clever, the inspector's investigation intelligent and courageous, and we get crime, romance, philosophy worked out to some degree in practice, action and suspense in the package.

A weakness for me was that the resolution involved a bit of fortunate coincidence (fortunate, at least, from the point of view of the protagonists, whose decisions don't bring it about and who are, therefore, not to blame for the negative aspects of it, and who are put in a much better situation as a result). But it's not too implausible, at least. The text could do with more commas in places, but it isn't too bad. Overall, a solid effort.

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Wednesday, 4 June 2025

Review: The Elysium Heist

The Elysium Heist The Elysium Heist by Y.M. Resnik
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Disaster lesbians* attempt a casino heist in space; it gets distinctly M-rated between a couple of them, and all the problems with the fairly simple heist are because the characters have personal issues. Also, the heist ends up not making a lick of sense. But the journey is reasonably entertaining.

*Technically, one lesbian, two bisexuals, one pansexual and an asexual, all women within a couple of years either way of 20 years old. They are:

- Kiyo, a brittle heiress to a jewellery fortune, who's being extorted by Shaul, the villain and mark, over a sex tape (think Paris Hilton, but if the boyfriend who secretly recorded the tape died on screen through an interaction between a drug he was on and her body paint). She is the client and funder.
- Finley, a recovering alcoholic (recovering thanks to Kiyo) and professional gambler. In mutual thought-to-be-unrequited longing with Kiyo, who is understandably gun-shy when it comes to sex since her previous experience.
- Psalome, a Dazzler (casino employee). She's theoretically available for clients to have sex with, as well as to have her deal for them and provide various other forms of entertainment, but in practice she doesn't have sex with them because she wants to reserve that for someone she cares about, and the Casino is very strict about consent (and yet it's often implied or stated that she's very skilled at sex, even though she's had, it emerges, only one previous partner and isn't that old). She's working in the casino to pay off a huge debt left by her father. It's never made clear why she feels she has to do this.
- Psylina, Psalome's sister. A hacker, asexual but not aromantic, and in a relationship with the casino's AI, who she refers to as her "joyfriend". She's been trying, unsuccessfully, to get around the AI's programming to allow it to forgive her sister's debt. The AI has multiple bodies which are often referred to as clones, but are actually androids, to fulfil the role of casino security.
- Ilaria, Shaul's wants-to-be-ex-wife. They come from a strict Jewish planet where only men can grant divorces, and he won't, even though he doesn't care about her at all; it's part of his controlling personality. (Shaul, the only significant male character, is not only an unmixedly vile human being but also not very smart.) Kiyo has helped her fake her death, both so that she can escape and also so that she can help them get Kiyo's heirloom earrings back from Shaul, since they would validate the sex tape as not a deepfake; this is the heist. Ilaria is in mutual thought-to-be-unrequited longing with Psalome, whose exact type she coincidentally is - which is fortunate for getting Psalome to sign on to be part of the heist, though she might well have done it just for the promise of Kiyo paying off her remaining debt.

A lot of the book is more about the romantic angst and the characters working through their considerable damage than it is about the heist, so if you're not up for that, this isn't your book. The heist itself is relatively straightforward: manipulate a poker tournament in which the stakes put up are jewellery, and in which Shaul will put up the McGuffin earrings. The dealer wears all the stakes during the game, and Psalome is the dealer in the final. Then they just have to swap the earrings out somehow. (The actual heist turns out to be more complicated than this, of course.)

Their plan for doing this earring swap is far from clear for most of the book, and then when it comes to it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. (view spoiler)

Most, though certainly not all, of the commas are in the right place, but the vast majority of the apostrophes are not, and if I had a bingo card with every error you can commit with an apostrophe, it would have been mostly full by the end of the book. Some idioms are fumbled, some words are confused with other similar words, and there's at least one typo that should have been caught by spellcheck. I've seen far worse; the issues aren't constant, and, as always, I give the disclaimer that I saw a pre-publication version which may not represent the final text.

More significant for me were the issues of plausibility. I've already mentioned the biggest one in spoiler tags above, but it's also implausibly easy to avoid security cameras in the space casino. The casino AI doesn't twig to things it really should have twigged to. Fire in a space station is said at one point to be unthinkable, but there's plenty of smoking going on, and the Dazzlers sometimes set cocktails on fire, and in general fire seems to be a lot more thinkable than it in fact should be. And (view spoiler)

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Sunday, 1 June 2025

Review: The Riddle of the Sands

The Riddle of the Sands The Riddle of the Sands by Erskine Childers
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

For a book described as one of the 100 best thriller novels and "brimming with heartstopping action" (blurb on the version I read), this has a very slow burn for a very long time, about two-thirds of its total word count.

Not that it isn't good. In place of that long-delayed heartstopping action we get a good deal of character development, rare in the thriller/suspense genre, of our two central characters: the narrator, Carruthers, a junior Foreign Office clerk, and his old university acquaintance Davies. Davies invites Carruthers via letter to join him on his (very small and uncomfortable, as it turns out) yacht in the Baltic just when Carruthers is fed up with having to work - at something quite unimportant - while everyone else he knows is off at country-house parties. He finishes his work and, on a whim, joins Davies, who eventually confides in him that he thinks a man he's met is English, not German as he presents himself, and tried to kill Davies by leading him into a dangerous area in a storm. Davies also believes that there's something going on in terms of preparations for war (this is in 1903) in the shallow harbours and channels between the East Frisian islands and the German coast, and that as patriotic Englishmen they should try to find out more. He wanted Carruthers with him in part because Carruthers speaks good German.

It's interesting to me that, before World War I, a good many English people seem to have liked and admired the Germans and even the German empire. Read, for example, Three Men on the Bummel or Diary of a Pilgrimage , both by Jerome K. Jerome. Of course, thinking that Germany was good didn't stop them thinking that Britain was better, and that's the case for Davies, who admires the Kaiser but is also keen to spy on Germany if that protects his own country.

For a long time, there's no real sense of danger. Yes, they're in a small boat in October in a region where running aground and bad weather are basically daily occurrences, but the boat is very sound (it's a converted lifeboat), Davies is an extremely competent sailor, and he keeps downplaying any danger as part of his characterization. What there mainly is is a sense of discomfort. The boat is small, cramped, damp, impossible to keep clean, and full of fumes from its petroleum-fueled stove, on which the pair cook bad rations. The whole trip is based on one the author had made about five years before the book came out with his brother and another man, which gives a deeply authentic feel to the incidental details of both the experience of sailing and also of the location.

The relationship between the two men also feels real. They weren't close friends before the trip, though they liked each other well enough, but as the story progresses they get to understand each other better and appreciate each other's strengths, with occasional brief arguments. Carruthers lets go of his annoyance at the discomforts of the trip a lot more easily than I would have, even at his age, but it's believable as a dawning of self-insight and not taking himself so seriously. The two become comrades by working towards a common goal, facing challenges together. It's a classic early-20th-century-Englishmen's friendship, though in many ways it's just a classic men's friendship, where you respect each other and get on with a common task with a minimum of drama (especially since they are very English, and drama, or even direct acknowledgement of emotions, would be not quite the thing).

At length, we do get some genuinely suspenseful narrative. First, taking advantage of Davies' uncanny ability to navigate the shoals using soundings, they sneak through a heavy fog in a rowing boat for a distance of about 12 miles so that Carruthers can spy on a meeting between their suspects in the hope of discovering what's going on. They get some more information, but a lot of it is overheard words without clear context, and they have to put in more work - and Carruthers has to do a daring solo mission, in disguise - to figure out what the Germans' plan actually is.

At this point, the book winds up in a hurry. It could, I felt, have lingered a little more over the fate of the characters, rather than just concluding with a summary by the "editor" (Childers, claiming to be working from Carruthers' and Davies' accounts) of the political and military upshot. After all, the first two-thirds of the book is us coming to care about the characters.

Still, it's a strong piece of work, with lots of layers of character and setting carefully built up to give a richer picture than the usual superficial suspense novel, and I recommend it.

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Wednesday, 28 May 2025

Review: The Blue Scarab

The Blue Scarab The Blue Scarab by R. Austin Freeman
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Thorndyke short cases narrated by his original sidekick, Jervis, apparently during the period when they roomed together before Jervis's marriage.

They are very much what you would expect if you've read any of the author's previous works. Thorndyke is erudite and full of obscure but somehow useful knowledge (like the exact habitat of a rare snail). Thanks to his great learning and intelligence, he's able to work out non-obvious conclusions from the scientific evidence that he and Jervis collect so professionally, using what were, at the beginning of the 20th century, advanced techniques (all real, apparently, and all tested by the author), occasionally assisted by fortunate coincidence, as in the case of the snail. Jervis is his foil, his Watson, whose main function is to stand in for the audience, who probably can't figure out the clues either, so that they (we) don't feel so stupid.

The author's contemporary Freeman Wills Crofts wrote stories of clever criminals who were no match for the dogged persistence of generic Scotland Yard detectives. R. Austin Freeman is the reverse: a brilliant detective who solves what are often quite ordinary crimes that would remain undetected or unsolved without his involvement. We have here not just murders, but robberies (including a jewel robbery), and the title story is about a mysterious family secret of hidden treasure that uses Egyptian hieroglyphics to conceal the solution.

He's definitely a literary descendant of Sherlock Holmes, and an ancestor of every scientific detective since. The stories are interesting puzzles, though there's not a great deal of character development to be seen anywhere - difficult in the short form, admittedly, though there's not much in the novels either.

There's a black character in one story, and his former landlady expresses her dislike of the fact that another person used a racial slur about him; there's also a Jewish character in another story, and he doesn't come in for any specific or overt racism either in the brief mention of him, though he is clearly a villain. If you read Freeman's Wikipedia article, you'll see that he had a complex mix of mostly stereotypical views about Jews, and was also a eugenicist, though his views seemed to change after the advent of the Nazi Party. Although I'm noting these factors in my review, I'm not giving it my "casual_racism" tag because the viewpoint character doesn't express specific racist views or use racial slurs, which is what that tag is for.

It's solid and well executed, without major flaws, so I put it in the Silver tier of my Best of the Year list for 2025. Recommended if you like watching a clever man solve puzzles.

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Tuesday, 27 May 2025

Review: Cocktail Time

Cocktail Time Cocktail Time by P.G. Wodehouse
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I think Uncle Fred (the Earl of Ickenham) is my favourite Wodehouse character now.

He has the aristocratic amiability of the Earl of Emsworth, but the intelligence of Jeeves, the easy way with all comers of Psmith, the complete lack of shame and scheming nature of Bobbie Wickham or Ukridge (but always in the service of "spreading sweetness and light"), and an ability that's all his own to improvise a role at a moment's notice, with a confidence and commitment that enables him to carry the impersonation off, however unlikely.

In this book, he first knocks his half-brother-in-law Sir Raymond "Beefy" Bastable's top hat off with a Brazil nut using a borrowed catapult from the window of the Drones Club, and then, when his dignified relative later complains about the youth of today as a result of this incident, suggests he write a novel about it to relieve his feelings, and (knowing his man) says that of course he wouldn't be able to, which spurs Sir Raymond on to do exactly that. He writes under a pseudonym, since he wants to stand for Parliament as a Conservative and being known to write novels, at least of this nature, would not go down well with his prospective constituents.

The resulting novel, Cocktail Time, is doomed to the obscurity of so many first novels until a bishop catches his daughter reading some rather racy stuff in Chapter 13, and condemns it from the pulpit. The novel is thus rescued from obscurity, and becomes a bestseller, making it even more important for Sir Raymond to hide his authorship.

Cue shenanigans involving Sir Raymond's useless nephew Cosmo, multiple couples who have various impediments to their marriage, an already-married couple of con artists who try to get in on the money that's now floating around, and, of course, the cheerful manipulations and easy, convincing falsehoods of Uncle Fred. All in the trademark breezy, sparkling Wodehouse prose, combining slang with quotations from a wide range of English literature and giving us a constant scintillation of clever imagery.

Incidentally, this is the book that convinced me that Wodehouse time does actually work the way that Wikipedia says it does, and not the way I had previously theorized. I believed that all of the Wodehouse stories were implicitly set in the inter-war years, in a reasonably self-consistent continuity, even the ones written after World War II, but that the author occasionally dropped an anachronistic contemporary reference to make it easier for his then-present-day readers to relate. But this one reveals - by unambiguous references to World War II - that it's more like Batman or Superman comics, in that the continuity is continually rebooted so that the characters are always about the same age as in previous stories, even though we are now in a different decade. Uncle Fred, for example, is perpetually about 65, even though by this point he should be well into his 90s (having been about 65 at his first appearance in 1935; this book came out in 1958). Also, everything in England, more or less, is as it was when Wodehouse last lived there, before moving overseas permanently for tax reasons in the 1930s. There's reference to change, of course, but it's still the same landscape of country houses and the hereditary aristocracy that we're familiar with from his classic period. So in a way it's, at one and the same time, the 1930s and the year in which the book came out. Better not to think about it too hard.

Above all, these books are lighthearted fun; everyone gets what's coming to them, based on their various characters, as the intricate interlocking of the plot threads works itself out, and the journey to that resolution is always amusing.

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Review: Poirot Investigates

Poirot Investigates Poirot Investigates by Agatha Christie
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Like most collections, this has stronger and weaker stories.

Poirot is, throughout, impressed with his own cleverness. Hastings is, throughout, unaware of his own ineptitude.

I read the Gutenberg version, which is the British version with 11 stories (there were a couple more in the American edition, published later).

The Adventure of “The Western Star”: A jewel theft with a twist, that invokes the good old "stolen jeweled eyes of an idol" trope so beloved of pulp writers (and also used by Conan Doyle), only to subvert it.
The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor: A suicide, or is it? Poirot is commissioned by the insurance company to check.
The Adventure of the Cheap Flat: I found this one a bit unlikely. (view spoiler)
The Mystery of Hunter’s Lodge: A man is shot by a mysterious home invader - or is he?
The Million Dollar Bond Robbery: I suspected the solution to this one, though not how it was worked.
The Adventure of the Egyptian Tomb: Even prior to her marriage to an archaeologist (in 1930, whereas this collection came out in 1924), Christie was apparently interested in the subject, as I'm sure many people were, following the excavation of the tomb of Tutankhamen. Here, she plays with superstition around curses on tombs, another pulp trope that she debunks through Poirot.
Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan: This was rather clever, as was Poirot's approach to working it out.
The Kidnapped Prime Minister: Probably inspired by the Conan Doyle stories like "A Scandal in Bohemia" or "The Adventure of the Bruce-Partington Plans," where the Great Detective is involved in secret high-level shenanigans that don't come out to the public (at least, not until the faithful chronicler reveals them). Another clever twist, where Poirot sees through a carefully crafted illusion.
The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim: Again reminds me of a Conan Doyle story: (view spoiler)
The Adventure of the Italian Nobleman: A lesson always to suspect evidence from only one source.
The Case of the Missing Will: there's a story very like this in one of the Dorothy L. Sayers short story collections, where a deceased relative has hidden a will as a test of the legatee's intelligence and they call in detectives to solve it for them. That's called out as a cheat here (by Hastings, of course), and I have to say I agree, though Poirot maintains that intelligence includes knowing when to consult an expert.

There's a common thread of "things are not as they have been carefully arranged to appear, and only Poirot suspects the truth" running through these stories. Some of the twists are very clever, though at least one I considered a bit far-fetched. Overall, an amusing set of puzzles.

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Friday, 23 May 2025

Review: The Murder on the Links

The Murder on the Links The Murder on the Links by Agatha Christie
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I don't remember reading this book before, though I also don't remember watching the adaptation with David Suchet, and I must have done, because I've seen all of those. Maybe it's not that memorable.

Hastings is very irritating in this one. In The Mysterious Affair at Styles , he was a Watson-style idiot foil for the brilliant detective, but here he is actually an impediment, both accidentally and deliberately, albeit not as much of one as he thinks he is being. Worse, he's "in love" with a woman who's much too young for him, whose name he doesn't know, who he's hardly spent any time with, who he doesn't even really like as a person, and yet he will (view spoiler). And he meets her initially by chance on a train, and then she happens to be involved in the very next case he and Poirot are on.

Hastings also has what I call a "superhero job" in this one; he is private secretary to an MP, but it doesn't prevent him in any way from being involved in the plot as much as he likes and travelling wherever he feels like, whenever he feels like it. Like his job in the War Office in the previous book, it seems to exist just because the author thinks he ought to have a job, but there's nothing that suggests it's in any way real or impacts on his schedule whatsoever. Mind you, if I was Hastings' employer, I'd want him out of the office as much as possible too. It would create less work for everyone else to do, fixing up his mistakes.

The mystery itself is full of twists, perhaps too many of them, and at least one big plot hole. (view spoiler) The final solution is clever, but I felt like it was based on inadequate evidence for even Poirot to deduce it.

The author has a bad habit of leaving question marks out of sentences which are questions. I didn't note that in the first book; maybe they had different editors, and that one didn't catch comma splices, while this one didn't catch missing question marks.

Overall, for me this fell short of expectations, and it's not going on my annual recommendation list. Too many inexperienced-writer errors (thin romance, superhero job, plot hole, coincidental meetings, correct conclusions from inadequate evidence).

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Monday, 19 May 2025

Review: Mulliner Nights

Mulliner Nights Mulliner Nights by P.G. Wodehouse
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Mr Mulliner is always fun, with his unlikely stories of distant relatives (told in the bar-parlour of a fishermen's pub, so we know upfront that they're likely tall tales). Like the Oldest Member of the golf club, Wodehouse's other famous raconteur, he cannot be prevented from telling a story once he starts, though I would imagine that the regulars looked forward to these absurd, hilarious tales as much as I do. Those regulars, and any visitors to the pub, are always referred to by the drinks they have ordered, rather than by name. Only Mr Mulliner himself and the barmaid, Miss Postlethwaite, get names.

If there's a theme to this volume, it's subtle moral influence, whether that's the detective with a smile that gives aristocrats with a bad conscience the sense that he knows all and will, unless conciliated, tell all; the cat, raised in ecclesiastical surroundings, who projects such an aura of upright disapproval that the artist whose clerical uncle asked him to look after the beastie changes his whole way of life; the feeble youth who gets the wrong correspondence course in the mail and accidentally develops an iron will; or the female novelists who gush such nonsense in interviews that their interviewers have mental breakdowns. Only in a society like that of Britain before World War II (or parts of East Asia to this day) could social and interpersonal expectations be so powerful in people's lives. Along the way, we see a man in quest of strawberries in December for his lady-love, and another man and his prospective mother-in-law at odds over a copy of a detective novel.

The thing Wodehouse does so incredibly well is that he takes someone who is pursuing something that really, in the great scheme of things, matters very little or not at all, and somehow gets us to care about it as intensely as the character does, and want them to succeed. Not that the assorted Mulliner relatives in these stories always succeed; sometimes they end up not getting what they want, but getting something else that is probably, in the broad view, better, though they might not think so at the time. Not every love affair works out, and sometimes that's a good thing, if the person the young fool is in love with is patently unsuitable.

And when things go wrong, they go hilariously and catastrophically wrong, and the hero is left attempting to babble implausible explanations to which nobody is listening. Sometimes, all he can do is exercise the better part of valour and escape through a window.

Compared with some of Wodehouse's other classic series (Jeeves and Blandings Castle, specifically), these are more stories of the middle class. "The Smile that Wins" specifically roasts the aristocracy. Part of how that manifests is that most of the protagonists have jobs of some sort, and they're a lot less given to quoting English (and Latin) literature. In place of all the aristocratic foolishness, there's more slapstick. This makes them, to me at least, more relatable - not that I don't thoroughly enjoy the Jeeves and Blandings stories, but they're about a very different place and time and stratum of society that has little to do with my daily life, whereas the Mulliner stories are a bit more grounded.

If you enjoy Wodehouse at all, you will probably enjoy these.

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Friday, 16 May 2025

Review: Modern Magic.: A Practical Treatise or The Art of Conjuring.

Modern Magic.: A Practical Treatise or The Art of Conjuring. Modern Magic.: A Practical Treatise or The Art of Conjuring. by Angelo John Lewis Hoffmann
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A thorough presentation of the state of the conjurer's art at the time of its publication (1876), detailing a number of tricks and variations on them. This includes tricks with cards, coins, handkerchiefs, watches, rings, dominoes, dice and the like, and the still widely popular cups and balls. The instructions are comprehensive and clear, and accompanied with diagrams of special apparatus and of the methods of manipulation. Many of the tricks don't require any special apparatus or preparation, but rely purely on manipulation of everyday objects.

I'm sure the magician's art has come a long way in the subsequent century and a half, but the foundation is still sleight of hand and cleverly constructed apparatus. I'm sure a modern aspiring magician could probably still find inspiration here, and many of the tricks have likely remained unchanged in their essentials.

This would also be a great book to read if you were thinking of writing a magician character in the late 19th century, or even some other-world equivalent. I'm not currently thinking of doing that, at least not seriously, but if I ever do, I'll return to this book for material.

One of the key points I took from it, which applies to clever mystery stories too: if a magician ever wants you to believe that an object is somewhere, it is inevitably somewhere else, and if they want you to believe that it's a particular object (say, the one they borrowed from an audience member), you can rely upon the fact that it is not that object but a substitute. If they want you to believe that something is happening at a particular time - like an object moving from one place to another - that thing has definitely already happened. Anything the magician says or does openly is intended to mislead or distract, and nothing is as it seems.

All of this reminds me very much of the kind of mysteries you get in, say, the TV show Death in Paradise, which my wife and I are currently watching in sequence from the beginning. If anyone has a rock-solid alibi for the time of the crime, you should suspect that the crime did not, in fact, take place at that time, or if it did, that the alibi has been faked. If someone claims that the victim was dead when they found them, suspect them of killing the victim after their apparent discovery (probably having previously rendered them unconscious or duped them into pretending to be dead). If a room appears to have been locked with just the victim inside, either it wasn't really locked, or it was locked in some clever way that only made it look as if it had been locked from the inside, or the victim died after locking it themselves, or... You get the point.

Another interesting point he makes is that you should never do the same trick twice in the same way, but if you create the same effect twice in two different ways, you can use the opportunity to show something with each method that would make the other method impossible. The audience will assume that both tricks were done the same way, since the effect is the same, and so won't guess either method.

The author has one verbal peculiarity: he sometimes says "either" when he means "any," for example referring to "either of the four categories". It's pretty clear from context what he means, though.

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Review: Five Phantom Discount

Five Phantom Discount Five Phantom Discount by Marcus Fell
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

First of all, if bad language offends you, this is not the book for you. There's a lot of it.

Secondly, if you enjoyed Ocean's Eleven, this has a lot of the same elements. It starts out with a con man just out of prison who wants to do a job on a guy who is now sleeping with his ex-wife, for one thing. But it isn't just Ocean's Eleven retold.

It's set in a version of our world where some people can use magic, and this appears to be publicly known, since there are US federal laws about it; the main character, Frank Phantom, fell foul of these laws as part of a job six years previously, and has spent the interim in a prison for magic users. Now that he's out, he and his partner Clay Bishop, who were betrayed by Deacon, their third partner on that previous job, want to steal from him. Deacon's used two of the three wishes that the genie he gained through that heist granted him, in order to screw them over and reinvent himself, and is about to be elected as the Mayor of New York, as a prelude to running for president.

The book follows the usual beginning for a heist story; the team is gathered and told how impossible the job is. (I would note that not all of the impossibilities are really dealt with in the actual heist. In particular, (view spoiler) There's a creepy Ukrainian necromancer who can gather information from dead ex-employees of the security team; a technomancer hacker (a young woman whose grandfather was the first choice for the position, but he's dead); Bishop, who's a glamourist and can make things look like what they're not; Phantom, who's the mastermind, and can't work magic because he's on parole and has tattoos that prevent him from doing so or at least will report if he does; and Lemonade, a retired criminal who they convince to come back for one last job. (view spoiler)

There are two main ways of telling a heist story. One is for the reader to know the plan in advance, see it all go wrong, and then see how the crew improvise their way to success anyway (or actually have another secret plan which involved things going wrong in exactly that way). The other is for us not to know the plan in advance, but watch it unfold in narrative time, which is what this book does. Both can be enjoyable, and this plan is clever (and involves the main character going through some rough times). As already noted, not everything in the "this is impossible" scene gets addressed when the heist unfolds, though.

There's a lot of banter - sometimes, for me, too much; it bogs down the pace of some of the scenes, without being quite good enough banter to make up for it. A lot of it consists of people insulting each other and being mutually hostile, with, as I've noted, copious swearing. Sometimes it's creative and funny; other times, less so.

Not badly edited; there are a few of the usual issues, including dialog punctuation, the odd vocabulary error, unclosed quotation marks and missing or added words in sentences, but they're thinly scattered. As always, I include the disclaimer that books I get from Netgalley may (but also may not) receive more editing after I see them, but before publication.

Overall, it's a good heist novel, if you don't mind sweary and not very likeable characters who banter a bit too much, and can ignore or don't notice the fact that not all of the threads are tied up neatly. Those factors together dragged it down to the Bronze tier of my annual recommendation list.

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Wednesday, 14 May 2025

Review: The Garden Of Resurrection: Being The Love Story Of An Ugly Man

The Garden Of Resurrection: Being The Love Story Of An Ugly Man The Garden Of Resurrection: Being The Love Story Of An Ugly Man by E. Temple Thurston
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The author is a poet, and it shows, though he's not so lyrical and fanciful as to exceed my (relatively low) tolerance. What I did find irritating was the characteristic early-20th-century assumption that women are a monolith, and men a completely different monolith; that they think and feel and act entirely unlike each other, in ways that can be generalized across the whole of each gender. From a 21st-century perspective, this is nonsense, and since there's so much of it, annoying nonsense. It's not, by the way, misogynist; the opposite, if anything.

The ugly man of the title, Bellairs, is disfigured from a childhood illness, presumably smallpox, which causes women to distrust him, but he is a deeply kind person when you get to know him. He narrates in the first person and as if keeping a diary, though it's not stated to be a diary (there are a lot of things that are implied clearly enough that we understand them, even though they're not said outright). He has no occupation, receiving 1500 pounds a year from his father, which is enough for him to live quietly in central London with a manservant to look after him and eat out at a nearby restaurant regularly. While at this restaurant, he overhears another patron talking about his fiancée, a woman for whom he has little feeling other than contempt and whom he has convinced to leave her home in the Caribbean to come and, eventually, marry him on account of the money she would bring with her. He has her lodged with his two maiden aunts in a village in Ireland, and they are, it is clear, busy repressing her and twisting her into something that will be more socially acceptable. She has some black ancestry, so they make her wear a veil on the rare occasions that they allow her out at all (both the man and the female friend he is talking to are out-and-out racists, in a way not unusual for the time; the narrator gives no indication of sharing in this prejudice except that he does remark, when he finally sees the woman in question, that she has no "racial coarseness" in her features).

Bellairs, overhearing this conversation, is incensed on behalf of the woman, and takes advantage of the fortunate coincidence that an old university friend lives in the same Irish village to take up his friend's long-offered hospitality and get on the spot, with the aim of cluing the woman in to what a loser her fiancé is and convincing her to go back to her home country and be happy as herself, instead of unhappy as an unsuccessful version of a British woman.

He takes his dog Dandy, of whom he's very fond, in part because dogs don't mind what you look like and won't ever judge you. He doesn't take his faithful manservant. His hosts, the old university friend and his wife, call each other by nicknames, which Bellairs adopts too; the man is Cruikshank and his wife Bellwattle. Cruikshank is a gardener, and Bellairs immerses himself in the beauty and joy of nature while attempting to fulfil his quest of speaking to the woman and warning her.

Things develop in both expected and unexpected ways, and there are some passages that I found moving and gripping as Bellairs deals with them. The ending, in particular, moved me, and it's this emotional power that lands it in the Gold tier of my annual recommendation list. It falls short of Platinum only because of the annoying gender stereotyping.

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Tuesday, 13 May 2025

Review: In The Night: A Detective Novel

In The Night: A Detective Novel In The Night: A Detective Novel by Ronald Gorell Barnes
My rating: 0 of 5 stars

Dorothy L. Sayers apparently said, quite accurately, “Lord Gorell has a nice ear for dialogue, and a light and pleasant touch with description.” Considering he was a poet, his prose is solid, workmanlike and never attempts to be lyrical or fanciful, though personally I would relocate a few of his commas. I wonder if Sayers drew inspiration from the general tone of this book for her Lord Peter Wimsey books? They do have some resemblances, not least that the amateur detective discovers that "to investigate was interesting, to discover horrible," which is a neat summing up of how Wimsey feels about the consequences of his detecting hobby for the criminals he detects.

This is a textbook example of an early-20th-century mystery novel: country house, unpopular rich man dead in the night, everyone a suspect, apparent locked-room (or rather locked-house) aspect, inspector who has tenacity but lacks brilliance, amateur detective who is better at detecting than the professional. Interestingly, the amateur detective here is a young woman, the close friend of the daughter of the victim, and she shows considerable intelligence and ability while not being some kind of prodigy. She also has a more developed personality - as do all the characters - than I'm used to encountering in these early-20th-century mysteries. They're not just archetype plus plot role, but have believable motivations and emotions and, in general, an interior life. A lot of early detective novels, particularly those by men, had lifeless characters who were only ever seen from the outside, and went through a kind of puppet-play acting out the author's plot. This is not one of those.

(view spoiler)

Overall, it's a good piece of work, better than a lot of superficially similar books from the time, and I'll be looking out for other books by the same author in the hope that they are just as good. Unfortunately, this is the only one so far on Project Gutenberg,

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Wednesday, 7 May 2025

Review: The Fractal Prince

The Fractal Prince The Fractal Prince by Hannu Rajaniemi
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

If the first book of this trilogy has a fault, it's the worldbuilding firehose. You just get doused with high-pressure names and words with no explanation, and have to struggle through until it gradually clarifies. This book, if anything, pushes the same fault even harder. For a long time, even having read the first book, I didn't have much idea what was going on in at least one and sometimes both of the two slowly converging storylines, mainly because there was an entirely new jargon vocabulary with absolutely no explanation, and not even much in the way of contextual clues. And by the end, I was once again confused about what exactly had happened in the plot.

The author lists Roger Zelazny among his influences, and I can definitely see it. Not just starting with an amnesiac character in the first book, whose amnesia frees him to be more sympathetic than would otherwise be the case (like Corwin of Amber), and the siblings at each other's throats, but Jack of Shadows , Lord of Light , Isle of the Dead .... There's a general Zelaznian feel to a lot of the ideas and characters, especially the thief and trickster at the centre of the story.

The thing is, though, no matter how weird Zelazny's highly imaginative settings got, he had the gift of orienting you to them with a few well-chosen words (not an extended infodump, just a sentence that made it clear from context what the thing was), so that instead of struggling to figure out what was going on, you could enjoy the wild ride through weirdness. Rajaniemi seems to lack that gift, or not care about using it. Now and again, he does throw in a few words that tell us what one of his neologisms means, but that usually happens after he's already been using it for many chapters, during which time we have had no idea what image to attach to it. The most obvious example is when he says "Masrurs, they are called, jinn insurgents" - this is the seventh (and last) time that the term "masrurs" is used. Why couldn't the author have thrown those five clarifying words in at the first mention instead? Is it actually his intention to leave the reader floundering, not knowing what he's talking about most of the time?

What I did piece together was that the second story here involved an echo of Sheherazade and the Thousand and One Nights, but in a place where fictional stories were forbidden, because, through a vaguely handwaved mechanism, they could be a vector for infection leading to possession by hostile entities. (The author, I think, slips up at one or two points and forgets that fiction is forbidden.) It's also, notably, an Arabian Nights setting without Islam, which is a bit like a medieval European setting without Catholicism: possible, but you have to work hard to leave it out. We have jinni, flying carpets, ghuls, rhuks (rocs), all of which behave at least in some ways like their mythical counterparts, but are given a technological explanation that fits into the world established in Book 1. You have to be very good to make fantasy with an SF excuse work, and I think this author mostly pulls it off, though it does feel a bit like everyone has agreed to live in an Arabian Nights theme park. Also, the SF side eventually breaks down, and we get something that feels very much more like fantasy, or even mysticism, despite all the smartmatter and quantum physics. I was reminded of what Neal Stephenson did with ancient Sumerian in Snow Crash ; the magical power of language is similar in both books.

We also get someone with another Arsene Lupin alias (Don Luis Perenna), though oddly it didn't seem to be the thief who adopted it. It's just a random character in a flashback. This makes it a fourth-wall-breaking Easter egg for Lupin fans, rather than an organic part of the fiction, unless we're meant to conclude that it was, in fact, the thief and he's forgotten that fact and somehow not himself noticed the Lupin tie-in when he gets a third-person version of the memory. There's also a reference to the Lupin novel The Crystal Stopper .

The strengths of the first book were in its characters and its plot; it was emotionally coherent, even when the worldbuilding was confusing. This book, for me, didn't manage to achieve that, and the worldbuilding was even more confusing, to the point where I wondered if that was deliberate. I wasn't particularly moved, just mildly surprised, at the several twists, and honestly I couldn't follow the plot particularly well, or work out all the layers of false identity around the nominal main character (the thief). There are more stumbles over English idioms, too, which, while it's not blameworthy in the author, whose first language is Finnish, is blameworthy in the publisher, who didn't make sure they were edited properly.

Overall, my experience of the book was that the faults of the first book were magnified, while its strengths were reduced or overwhelmed by the faults. It's still very clever, probably too clever, but I found it incoherent, and a disappointing follow-up to a promising first novel. I bought and read it immediately after finishing Book 1, but I'll not be rushing out to get the third book any time soon.

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Friday, 2 May 2025

Review: The Quantum Thief

The Quantum Thief The Quantum Thief by Hannu Rajaniemi
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This is one of those books where you're not going to follow everything, so you just have to let the worldbuilding wash over you and concentrate on the plot and characters. I even found myself wistfully wishing for an infodump now and again, but no; you just have to either work it out or let it go (or, as I eventually did, look up an online glossary). I did get at least some of the references to the character Arsene Lupin, from a series of early-20th-century novels I've been reading on Project Gutenberg (Lupin is a gentleman thief who later turns detective), and it made me feel like Steve Rogers recognizing the Wizard of Oz reference. The main Lupin reference, apart from how the character Jean le Flambeur is in general, is the name "Paul Sernine," which both le Flambeur and Lupin use as an alias; it's an anagram of "Arsene Lupin," and would be a dead giveaway to anyone who happened to be a fan of early-20th-century crime novels that here is a criminal who is, nevertheless, disposed to help people.

This is a world of mind uploads, smart matter, and quantum entanglement, by an author who holds a PhD in mathematical physics, and it gets pretty wild, but you don't really have to understand the theoretical physics to follow the plot, fortunately. You can treat it as a kind of magic and just focus on the characters, the factions, and their interactions, which is what the author does.

It's well worth reading the Wikipedia page for Nikolai Fyodorov to understand why one of the factions is called fyodorovs and what their Great Common Work is (basically, to upload everyone so they can eventually all be resurrected). There are various bizarre posthuman factions with different attitudes to the use of copied consciousness, all of which are involved in the plot in one way or another.

It's one of those dual-threaded novels, where we follow two main characters in alternation for a while as they gradually converge. One is the thief of the title, the other a detective (not by occupation, but by avocation). The thief's first target is himself, since he has been broken out of a virtual prison, and in this world of uploaded minds his particular mind is missing a lot of context - rather like the reader.

There are some heavy-duty revelations dropped during the book, which tie the characters together even more tightly and give them even more motivation to protect the Martian city where most of the action takes place. And there is plenty of action; despite its strong foundation of advanced science and philosophy, it's not a book where people sit around and talk about philosophy, at least not any more than they have to in order to justify their actions in pursuit of what they believe in; nor does it contain science infodumps, as I've alluded to above. It's more or less the opposite style to Andy Weir (for the science infodumps) or practically any 21st-century novel by someone with an ideological position who has to tell you about it all the time, of which there are so many to choose from it would be unfair to pick just one to mention. The setting and the beliefs of the factions and individuals drive the plot, which, to my mind, is how a novel ought to work.

In its high-concept gonzo worldbuilding and setting-influenced, character-driven action, it reminds me of Brandon Sanderson, Robert Jackson Bennett, or (at his best) Max Gladstone. These are writers I rate highly, and so I gave this a 5-star rating and, as soon as I'd finished it, immediately bought and started the sequel, which isn't something I do often.

The author speaks English as a second language, and there are a few minor issues with the occasional idiom getting the wrong preposition or a plural instead of a singular verb. I could name three or four books by native English speakers that are far worse in this regard, though those probably haven't been professionally edited at a major publishing house (not that major publishing houses never put out badly edited books). Between the author and the editor, in any case, this is largely free of stumbles, allowing the reader to focus on the spectacular set-pieces, the conflicts, and the alliances.

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Tuesday, 29 April 2025

Review: Drake Hall: The Secrets of Ormdale, Book 2

Drake Hall: The Secrets of Ormdale, Book 2 Drake Hall: The Secrets of Ormdale, Book 2 by Christina Baehr
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This book is like its main character, Edith: Intelligent, well-educated, calm, poised, pragmatic, occasionally wise, and kind and warmhearted in an understated way.

Now that we've established (in Book 1) that dragons exist in England at the end of the 19th century, and Edith is established as one of their protectors, with the power to heal people bitten by them, we get encounters with some more dragons, an attempt to steal dragon eggs, and a mysterious letter inviting Edith to a dragon-related ceremony in Wales.

There's less tension in it than in the previous book, partly because there's not really a main antagonist, and what antagonism there is tends to gets quickly resolved by Edith's sensible level-headedness. There is a bit more of a romance plot, though it's definitely slow-burn, and Edith isn't even sure that she feels attracted to the gentleman in question; there's also a potential love triangle, though it's only hinted at subtly. The main story question appears to be: Will the possible main love interest stand up for himself against his mother? And, of course, Edith, who is the narrator, can't do more than attempt to influence the outcome of that question, since she doesn't want to substitute herself for his mother as the man's manager, so she can't exactly pursue it as a goal.

All of this combines to make it, for me, less compelling than the first book, so I took a while to finish it (in part also because I had the audiobook, and I don't often have opportunities to listen to an audiobook). It feels like a middle book, moving people into position for a more interesting plot to come.

Still, there were moments that moved me, and it has more depth and just more grasp of its craft and the historical period than I usually see, so it makes it (just) to the Gold tier of my annual recommendations list, despite being short on tension or strong narrative momentum. I suspect it's also well edited, though since I only listened to the audiobook all I can say for sure is that I didn't spot any vocabulary being used incorrectly (which is a near-universal problem with books set before World War I).

I look forward to Book 3.

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Review: Adventure in Asteroid City: A Kat & Jerry Mystery

Adventure in Asteroid City: A Kat & Jerry Mystery Adventure in Asteroid City: A Kat & Jerry Mystery by J. M. Holmes
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Unfortunately, I don't like Kat and Jerry. They're extremely quick to adopt ultraviolent solutions to their problems, which the author describes with lots of gory details, or to damage a valuable artwork just to provide a distraction, while never suffering any real consequences. Presumably in an attempt to make them less antiheroic, the author (view spoiler)

I think their "banter" is supposed to be both funny and endearing, but I didn't find it either one of those things; I thought it was weak. Their personalities are thin, too, and what there is of them didn't appeal to me. Jerry was born in the 20th century, and is still alive at the age of 250, for reasons that are not fully explained in this book (there are earlier, shorter stories that presumably explain it). Some sort of revival tech that he could afford because he was rich, apparently. This mainly means that he can make pop culture references that we, the readers, recognize. Kat... is some kind of action woman with magic glasses.

The setting is mostly generic 1950s or 1960s-style space opera, complete with sexism that would be less jarring in that time than it is in our own, except, of course, for the computer bits. These are mostly handwaved with some meaningless technobabble, or the word "quantum" used to mean "basically magic, can do anything the plot needs it to." The mining colony explicitly doesn't have a government, and yet in most respects feels like a small town that has a government to put up the decorative street lights and planter boxes, run the Archives and other central amenities, make strict quarantine laws, and provide a police force that is, admittedly, deeply inadequate (drawn from the various mining companies' security staff, supposedly). All of this is happening in orbit around a planet which, at one and the same time, is all the way out at the edge of the galaxy and also one of the first habitable exoplanets to be discovered from Earth, which seems contradictory.

This future of 200 years away is less futuristic than parts of the present, too. There's a lot of physical cash (called, because this is generic mid-20th-century-style space opera, "credits") and paper documents. At one point, a vehicle is left "idling," which is something internal combustion vehicles do and electric vehicles don't. So has some idiot decided it's OK to have internal combustion in a closed atmosphere, or is it just an error by the author?

I hung on to the end only because I do love a heist, and I was promised a heist. It was fairly clever, as heists go, though it did rely on something going exactly right that didn't completely convince me that it would necessarily do that.

The author (or the editor, possibly) has a bad habit of hyphenating a verb and its associated preposition when they are not acting as a compound adjective modifying a noun. In fact, very few of the places a hyphen is used are places that should have a hyphen. Also, when a single sentence is split with a dialog tag, the sentence resumes after the tag with a capital letter, which is incorrect; it's still part of the same sentence, and should be punctuated as such. Since I read a pre-publication version from Netgalley, it is possible that these problems will be fixed before publication, along with some missing or added quotation marks and a few other minor glitches.

Overall, it fell short in execution, and didn't match my taste well either, but it kept me interested enough to finish despite that. For me, that's a three-star book.

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Monday, 28 April 2025

Review: An Unbreakable World

An Unbreakable World An Unbreakable World by Ren Hutchings
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I dropped this author's first book, Under Fortunate Stars , two whole tiers in my annual recommendation list because of its truly massive overuse of fortunate coincidence to drive the entire plot. But everything else about it was decent to excellent, and (unlike one of the characters in this book) I believe in second chances, so I picked this one up when I saw it on Netgalley.

I'm mostly glad I did.

True, the main characters still don't have a whole lot of agency; events act on them more than vice versa, and their decisions often don't end up mattering, or are "decisions" to go along with the situation because there doesn't seem to be much other option. But I did come to care about their wellbeing, and almost everything else - the copy editing, the characterization, the plot, the twists - is at a high standard.

The worldbuilding, though, is mostly off-the-shelf space opera, including a threat from implacable alien Others who can't be communicated with and are almost impossible to fight (and yet haven't destroyed humanity, and clearly are possible to fight or the alien ship hulls that form an important plot point wouldn't be available). I don't have much time for this trope, not only because it's a piece of xenophobia originating in the Cold War, but because I've read Murray Leinster's story "The Aliens" from 1959 - more than 65 years ago - which points out how much more likely it is that advanced civilizations would want to trade with us rather than make war. (You can read it on Project Gutenberg, if you're curious.) But anyway, here the trope is, mostly providing a background existential threat to provoke reflection, but also a couple of important plot points.

The most original part in the worldbuilding is that there's an isolationist planet that claims, and teaches its people to believe, that it was the original home of humankind, despite the presence of clear marks of "seedships" having colonized it ("they're natural formations," according to the propagandists). One of the several narrative threads follows the niece of the leader of this planet, a cynical politician with a direct approach to silencing dissent and a lot of hypocrisy to hide. We follow the niece as she grows up, interleaved with the story of the tribulations of a young woman with no memory of who she is, thanks to having been cryo-revived, who is caught up in a proposed heist. That story is told both from her perspective and the perspective of another participant in the heist who semi-befriends her. There's also a fourth viewpoint, that of an anonymous (until the end) "storyteller" participating in what turns out to be an oral history project, who fills in bits of backstory that are important to the main plot and that the other viewpoint characters don't have access to.

Like the author's previous book, it's well enough written and has enough depth that it would normally get to the Gold tier of my annual recommendation list. However, also like that book, I'm going to demote it, though not by as much. As well as the implacable-aliens trope, which I personally think needs more thought put into it, and the shortage of protagonism among the main characters, there are also spoilerific reasons: (view spoiler)

The quality of the writing is far above average, but the author makes some decisions that turn this into a book that doesn't map well onto my personal preferences, so it only gets to Silver tier on my annual recommendation list. Other people, I'm sure, will like it more than I did, and even I liked it OK.

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