Cart
|
|
my account
|
wish list
|
help
|
800-878-7323
Hello, |
Login
MENU
Browse
New Arrivals
Bestsellers
Featured Preorders
Award Winners
Audio Books
See All Subjects
Used
Staff Picks
Staff Picks
Picks of the Month
Bookseller Displays
50 Books for 50 Years
25 Best 21st Century Sci-Fi & Fantasy
25 PNW Books to Read Before You Die
25 Books From the 21st Century
25 Memoirs to Read Before You Die
25 Global Books to Read Before You Die
25 Women to Read Before You Die
25 Books to Read Before You Die
Gifts
Gift Cards & eGift Cards
Powell's Souvenirs
Journals and Notebooks
socks
Games
Sell Books
Blog
Events
Find A Store
Don't Miss
Big Mood Sale
Teen Dream Sale
Portland Like a Pro Sale
Powell's Author Events
Oregon Battle of the Books
Audio Books
Get the Powell's newsletter
Visit Our Stores
Powell's Staff:
Five Book Friday: In Memoriam
(0 comment)
Every year, the booksellers at Powell’s submit their Top Fives: their five favorite books that were released in 2023. It’s a list that, when put together, shows just how varied and interesting the book tastes of Powell’s booksellers are. I highly recommend digging into the recommendations — we would never lead you astray — but today...
Read More
»
Brontez Purnell:
Powell’s Q&A: Brontez Purnell, author of ‘Ten Bridges I’ve Burnt’
(0 comment)
Rachael P.:
Starter Pack: Where to Begin with Ursula K. Le Guin
(0 comment)
{1}
##LOC[OK]##
{1}
##LOC[OK]##
##LOC[Cancel]##
{1}
##LOC[OK]##
##LOC[Cancel]##
Customer Comments
mwgerard has commented on (20) products
Charlotte Bronte
by
Claire Harman
mwgerard
, April 05, 2016
A happy accident, I found myself reading these two books simultaneously. The two were perfectly complementary. Harman has written a very human biography not just of Charlotte Brontë, but the entire Brontë clan. While Charlotte is the main focus of the more in-depth sections, it quickly becomes clear that the family was incredibly close and influenced one another. I knew only broad strokes about the family and found the exploration of their lives utterly fascinating. The detail with which the children created imaginary worlds is staggering. And the stringent world they lived in made their play even more rich. As the children grow older, the focus does shift more squarely on Charlotte. She becomes a representation of the family’s difficulties and successes. Still ten years before Jane Eyre, the book that would make her famous she is grappling with the frustrations of a genius trapped by convention. I even found tiny tidbits that inspired more investigation on my part. The dramatic mention of an earthquake in 1824 near Haworth. It turns out it was actually a landslide, eventual termed the Crow Hill Bog Blast or Explosion. Reading about this singular incident sent me off in search of more (including from my awesome former professor) — the best sign that a biography is relevant and exciting.
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
The Madwoman Upstairs
by
Catherine Lowell
mwgerard
, April 05, 2016
For someone like me — obsessed with Gothic literature, wrote their masters thesis on the “madwoman in the attic” in film and makes jokes about being “gaslit” — this book was serious fun. The spunky narrator, Samantha Whipple, has just been admitted to Oxford to study English literature. She also happens to be the last known relation to the Brontë family. Her father was a noted keeper of the family legacy and more than a bit eccentric. His sudden death has left Samantha without direction and lingering questions. She slowly uncovers her family’s past through a massive, carefully planned scavenger hunt set in motion by her father decades earlier. Piece by piece, Samantha must find and then interpret the clues left for her, while at the same time dealing with her grief and the increased scrutiny of Brontë fanatics who think she has a hidden inheritance. Using real figures and constructing mirrored plots to much-beloved literature is dangerous ground, but Lowell handles it well. Samantha’s narrative style is funny and dark. Her presentation makes it impossible to take anything too seriously and keeps the book at a fun, nerdy level. Samantha’s tone, too, keeps away any notion of purple prose taking over.
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
Black Rabbit Hall
by
Eve Chase
mwgerard
, April 05, 2016
I should have liked this one more than I did. A young couple is about to get married and they are in search of the perfect venue. A rainy afternoon in Cornwall leaves them lost and looking for the elusive estate that now hosts events. The bride-to-be is obsessed with finding it but she can’t quite explain why she is so drawn to it. A dual storyline novel, that eventually meets in the end, it moves back and forth between present day and the idyllic childhood summers of the 1960s. Until tragedy strikes. I found the main narrator a bit annoying. It was difficult to get into her head and disappear. Despite comparisons to Daphne du Maurier and Dodie Smith, I didn’t find any of the maturity of those writers.
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
Queen of the Night
by
Alexander Chee
mwgerard
, April 05, 2016
I thoroughly enjoy a novel that wanders a bit, particularly historical adventures like The Count of Monte Cristo or The Three Musketeers. I am also a sucker for stories of intrigue told from the secret garden at a masked ball or a hidden rooftop in Paris. It’s fantastical but delightful. The Queen of Night has all the elements. The heroine is an opera singer, the toast of Paris society. She wears amazing gowns and blinding jewels. What no one knows is that she is an American orphan who has had numerous identities, including a lowly maid for Empress Eugenie before the fall of the Second Republic. Her self is defined by her voice — or lack thereof — as she spends years masquerading as a mute. Despite all of these amazing elements, the book itself feels unfinished. Large portions in the midsection lag behind and miss the verve and energy of the early chapters. Often, it seems like something is about to happen but never does. It leaves the reader exhausted, but not enjoyably so — merely frustrated. Too many times Chee uses the formulaic tease that feels more at home in a listicle than a mature novel. I wanted to love this book. I wanted to be swept away and have a 19th century book hangover when I was finished. There were moments but they were not sustained throughout. It’s good — it’s just not great.
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
Jane Steele
by
Lyndsay Faye
mwgerard
, March 24, 2016
In this highly imaginative adventure, the heroine is no meek governess left to wander the moors. Though she shares some unfortunate circumstances with Jane Eyre — ones she freely acknowledges to the reader — Jane Steele is a fierce, violent and stubborn. And she is a murderer. One assumes had she met a crazed, homicidal Bertha Mason she would have killed her at the feet of Mr. Rochester then and there and saved themselves all a few heartaches. Neither should readers expect a campy romp like the amusing Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. This is not a slasher. It is a smart, calculating novel that uses the conventions of the mid-Victorian novel to its best advantage. There are solicitors, estates, missing jewels, mysterious parentage, letters, jealousy, diaries, the East India Company and several sharp blades. Readers should in no way fear a rehash of the Bronte classic. This novel stands well on its own and is infused with many original aspects. Still, the dark beginnings of an horrid aunt, an abusive school and a limited outlook for the Bronte sisters and Jane Eyre are shared by Steele. It’s what she does with these moments that makes her a different character. And it’s good fun reading about her do it.
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
(3 of 4 readers found this comment helpful)
report this comment
American Ghost The True Story of a Familys Haunted Past in the Desert Southwest
by
Hannah Nordhaus
mwgerard
, April 15, 2015
I am very lucky to have a grandmother and a father who are very into genealogy and ancestry. She held on to family quilts and dug up photos of relatives long since gone. I have the strange privilege of looking back on this people, 150 years ago, knowing that although we never met, we are connected. There are few images from my father’s side, but he has managed to trace our roots to the 14th century. But as far as I know, none of them is a famous ghost. Hannah Nordhaus’ great-great-grandmother Julia is said to haunt the hotel (once her grand home) in Santa Fe. A rather stereotypical weeping woman in a black dress has been noted since the 1970s and is assumed to be the unhappy spirit of Julia Schuster Staab. A researcher and reporter by trade, Nordhaus sets out to discover her grandmother’s story, and the wider story of her family’s emigration from Germany. A skeptic herself, she is determined to set aside her assumptions about apparitions and explore every avenue to learning about her grandmother. She stays in the ‘haunted’ hotel room and visits self-proclaimed psychics. She also does an incredible amount of archival research ��" books, newspapers, oral histories, diaries ��" to find out about the Staab’s early days in old Santa Fe. The streets of Julia’s new city likely held no more comfort. The Plaza was crowded with carts, wagons, teamsters, camp cooks, roustabouts, horses, mules, burros, pigs and goats. There were cockfights and gunfights. The town was a confusion of commerce, a babel of languages. ~Loc. 703 Julia has a difficult time adjusting to the New World, despite the Staab’s quick rise to respectability. Nordhaus also pieces together that Julia was most likely clinically depressed in a time and setting that didn’t acknowledge such a thing. She tries to uncover the possible causes for Julia. I have to say, I was riveted by the story of someone else grandmother. Julia Staab led an interesting life, that has been put back together by her inquisitive great-great-granddaughter. For the most part, the narrative structure is clear and addicting. There is a section when the author travels to Germany to learn about Julia’s visit and the story gets mired down in tangential pages. It needed to stick closer to Julia’s story throughout. All in all, it is a fascinating read. And it makes me want to find out more about the lives of my own ancestors. mwgerard.com
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
Black Diamonds The Downfall of an Aristocratic Dynasty & the Fifty Years That Changed England
by
Catherine Bailey
mwgerard
, April 15, 2015
Anyone with a penchant for the tension between the past traditions and the coming future (a la Lord Grantham in Downton Abbey) and historical nonfiction should pick up Black Diamonds. Catherine Bailey, author of The Secret Rooms, has once again scoured archives private and public looking for the missing links in noted family’s story. Posterity is all good and well ��" unless, of course, it exposes a unsavoury side of a ‘respectable’ family. Bailey traces the Fitzwilliam dynasty, and the history of their massive manor Wentworth House, through the memories of the villagers, the occasional letter or diary entry and newspaper clippings. The author follows (mainly) the 7th and 8th earls of Wentworth House and the time to which they belonged. The book begins when the earl dies, the last bastion of the Victorian era at Wentworth and, as many at the time did, speculates about the validity of new earl’s heritage (After all, he had been born is a remote outpost in the Canadian wilderness). Despite the rumblings that he was a changeling, at the time of his 1902 succession to the Earldom, he became one of the richest men in Britain, inheriting an estate of significant land, industrial and mineral-right holdings worth £3.3 billion in 2007 terms. But it was a new century not just on the calendar but it signified a new era in society and what being a member of the landed gentry meant. The Fitzwilliam’s massive wealth was built upon the rich coal seams that ran throughout their properties. They both owned the land that was being mined and owned the collieries themselves. Entire towns of mine workers and their families grew up around the “pits”, as they were called. Their money was borne on the backs of men and boys who toiled in a dangerous and harsh environment. And the entire country relied upon coal. Heat, lighting, cooking, and more were dependent on it. Strangely, these two worlds lived side-by-side. And Wentworth House survives the massive multiple mining strikes. The revolution taking place in the rest of the world only grazes the outskirts of the Fitzwilliam family. It was a world away from the pit villages nearby, where the Earl’s miners stood up their family corpses in the corner of their front parlour rooms to make way for the crush of mourners, and where, in the overcrowded cottages, dead relatives frequently shared the family’s beds. As late as the 1920s, a boy from Gresbrough, one of the Fitzwilliams’ villages, told his teacher, “Please, Miss, they’re goin’ ter bury our Ernest tomorrow., he’s in t’ big bed in t’room now. Our Jimmy wouldn’t sleep wi’ him last night ��" ‘e wor frightened.” ~Pg. 6 The 8th earl did a great deal to maintain the good will between the estate and its workers, but it was only a matter of time before the modern era crept in. His title became more and more honorary and there was less he could do to affect his estate. Strained by the second World War, his marriage was failing and he was without an heir. Then along came Kathleen “Kick” Kennedy. She had already married one duke-in-waiting. She and the heir apparent to be Duke of Devonshire, master of Chatsworth House, were married only a few weeks when he was killed by a sniper. She retained her title as Lady Hartington but the dukedom would never be theirs. She took up with Peter Fitzwilliam. Though still married, he was on the brink of divorce and she was a young, spunky widow. The two had flown to Paris to seek the approval of her father (an ambassador) when they too were killed. And these are just a handful of the scandals, secrets and misdeeds uncovered by the book. At times, the narrative seems to wander a bit too much, but at the same time there is so much to explore, it’s hard to blame her. And occasionally Bailey makes a bit too much out of missing documents and letters. Her frustration at their destruction is palpable and understandable, but the reader is not always sure why she is focused on it quite heavily, and for so many pages. Wentworth House still stands, albeit much changed. At night, the view over the surrounding country stretches for miles. To the south, the hills above Sheffield are coloured by a livid orange glad; the south-west, Rotherham and Rawmarsh blaze, a sodium-lit sprawl; the M1 marches along its western edge. But like totality in a solar eclipse, in the midst of this, one of England’s greatest urban conurbations, there is a vast expanse of black. Startling in its size and density, it conceals woodland, fields and parkland. It is the land once encompassed by the nine-mile perimeter that encircled Wentworth House. ~Pg 451 The irony is that Wentworth House now is on a precipice brought about by its own doing. It was built by coal and is now endangered by the greed it engenders. mwgerard.com
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
Turnip Princess & Other Newly Discovered Fairy Tales
by
Franz Xaver von Schonwerth, Erika Eichenseer
mwgerard
, April 15, 2015
The archetypal story of untapped treasure has been proven possible again. Erika Eichenseer discovered thirty boxes of von Schonwerth’s manuscripts just waiting to be uncovered. Hoping to find such a trove, Eichenseer brought to light what had been stored in the Regensburg archive for more than a century. Fairy tales are fantastical by their very nature. Yet they contain insight into a culture’s fears and desires. When I studied German in college, one of the things we did to practice was translate fairy tales. They were short and usually contained simple vocabulary. We could stumble through it anyway. I will never forget the story of “Die Waßernixe“, the water-sprite. In short, a brother and sister don’t listen to the warnings, fall into a fountain that is inhabited by an evil water sprite. She enslaves them. One day, they decide to escape. They leave just as she returns from church (?!?!), and she chases them. In order to get away, they throw a hairbrush and a comb with each turn into a bristly mountain. This is not enough, so the girl throws a mirror over her shoulder, which becomes a slippery glass mountain. This stymies the sprite and they get away. To this day I am still puzzled by this story. What is the moral? Don’t play next to fountains? Always bring a hairbrush and a mirror? Don’t trust fairies who go to church? The point of my little tangent is that fairy tales are the stuff of local imaginations and simple lives. They both explain so much about a set of people, and are always somewhat unattainable. These stories made perfect sense to those who told them around a fire or to a child before bed. This book is sorted in to categories: magic and romance, enchanted animals, otherworldly creatures, legends, tall tales and anecdotes, and tales about nature. There are dozens of stories, some of them barely a page long. But each contains its own (if inscrutable) dose of wisdom. Their style is terse and unflinching. There once was a king with a daughter named Barbara. She was so ugly that everyone made fun of her. She lived a lonely life. ~Pg.130 And: “Oh, no,” they said. “It’s just the meat.” She turned the sack inside out, and to her surprise the corpse of an old woman fell to the ground. They buried her as quickly as possible and no one was the wiser. Then they devoured with gusto the meat they had stolen. ~201 Readers are very fortunate that Eichenseer found and compiled this book. I am excited to see the literary works that grow up around these stories, especially in this day of reimagined classics like Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty.
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
Dead Wake: The Last Crossing of the Lusitania
by
Larson, Erik
mwgerard
, April 15, 2015
In Larson’s latest, he manages to bring tension worthy of The Hunt for Red October or Das Boot to a pivotal day in May 1915. Two vessels, unaware of their fates, barrel toward an outcome the reader knows all too well. Despite the fact most are aware of at least the basics of the sinking of the Lusitania, Larson presents the history in the way he does best ��" with layers, multiple perspectives, varying narrators and impeccable timing. World War I was less than a year old and America was still adhering to its isolationist policies. President Wilson had recently lost his wife, Ellen, and was in no state of mind to handle the increasing tension. Meanwhile, u-boats terrorized the seas and had the potential to starve the island of Britain. It was in this unhappy climate that the Lusitania set sail from New York on May 1, 1915. Many of its occupants considered the trip business as usual, with only an unlikely hint of danger. Larson himself seems to be surprised by the lack of concern the collective public had for its safety. Though the tragedy of the Titanic was hardly in the distant past, travellers thought the lessons from that trip had been learned. Not to mention, the Lusitania, at full speed, was faster than any known submarine or torpedo. They could simply outrun any danger. Larson unfolds these assumptions one by one, showing just how bare the Lusitania was. He has combed through newspaper reports and telegrams, of course. But he has also sifted through the diaries of passengers (those who survived and those who didn’t), letters of the families, ship logs, and even anecdotes. The author also opens a secret file on Room 40, a completely covert team within the British government that oversaw the Admiralty. This small group of high-ranking men made the tactical decisions that almost no one knew about. Churchill was of course one of these men. Perhaps most startling to discover was how very quickly the ship went down. Even with calm and orderly passengers and a top crew, it takes time to fill lifeboats and get them to the water below. The Lusitania had neither of these, nor did it have any time. It took just 18 minutes from the time of the torpedo’s impact to the ship being completely underwater. And for less than half of that time was the boat in any position to lower lifeboats. The damage cause the ship to list severely. Thankfully, the day was relatively mild and the sun was out. Those that made it to a lifeboat or even a piece of floating debris were picked up by one of the many boats that came to the rescue. This is the best Larson has written since The Devil In the White City. He has found the perfect mixture of humanity, intrigue, danger, and lost history to create a compelling narrative. Even though the reader “knows how it ends”, we don’t. Not really. We think we know but Larson once again shows us so much more. mwgerard.com
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
(4 of 6 readers found this comment helpful)
report this comment
Midnight at the Pera Palace The Birth of Modern Istanbul
by
Charles King
mwgerard
, April 15, 2015
The 1920s marked the transition from classicism to modernity in the East as well as the West. For Istanbul, known as the gateway between the two for centuries, the developments were no less dramatic. The city was on the edge of two worlds, trying to decide which way to turn. Tradition or modernity, Islam or Christianity, empire or parliament, isolationist or world player? And in many ways, being the pivot so many other entities meant Istanbul itself had little to say about any of it. King analyzes the intricacies of the time from multiple perspectives, using the Pera Palace, a fine hotel itself on the edge of a changing neighborhood, as a touchstone. Not only was it the chosen place for foreign tourists, it was a hotbed of domestic intrigue. The number of informants was so great that a sign in Pera Palace reportedly requested government agents to yield seats in the lounge to paying guests. ~ Loc. 425 Although the Turkish politics to a lay person are a bit complicated, King makes them approachable for the reader. Some of the nuance might be glossed over for clarity but this book is not meant to be a treatise. It succeeds in being an interesting, accessible history about another brief, gilded era. Like a curl of smoke from the hookah, it was all-encompassing and inescapable. Then it was gone. Kudos to King for putting this impressive work together. mwgerard.com
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
Young T E Lawrence
by
Anthony Sattin
mwgerard
, April 15, 2015
I adore Lawrence of Arabia ��" the film and the man (or at least what we know of him). I’ve read the Seven Pillars and other biographies. With this one, there was a greater sense of understanding the enigma that would become Lawrence. The book focuses on Lawrence the student. He is angsty, unsatisfied and searching. This is perhaps unsurprised to the reader who knows what he will become. He is also stubborn and extremely smart. Maddeningly so. He read history at Oxford and it wasn’t long before the professors weren’t sure to do with him. Lawrence wrote a research paper on the history of the pointed arch in sacred buildings in medieval times. It sounds innocuous, perhaps even boring, but it opened a new world to Lawrence. With the encouragement of his faculty, he undertook to prove that what was considered “western” architecture, particularly churches and castles, weren’t influenced by the older “eastern” buildings that were “discovered” during the Crusades. Lawrence set off on foot across what is now Israel, Lebanon, Syria and Turkey. His 1909 trek would cover more than 1000 miles and nearly four months and this book is packed with anecdotes from that journey. There, he took copious notes, made sketches. He studied buildings that had been left to ruins and all but ignored by their neighbors. And most importantly, got to know the people of these villages along the way. His affinity for the East would never leave him. …A sort of silver shiver passed over the grey: then I understood, and instinctively burst out with a cry of thalassa thalassa that echoed down the valley. … Lawrence had just caught his first glimpse of the Mediterranean. In his excitement, he had shouted so loudly that two French tourists came running to see whether someone was being murdered. They were not. This was a beginning, not an end. ~ Loc. 457 Whatever else Lawrence was, reading a biography like this reminds the reader to seek out adventures in life. mwgerard.com
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
Elementary Sherlock Holmes Things You Didnt Know About Literatures Greatest Detective
by
Matthew Bunson
mwgerard
, April 14, 2015
It takes a great deal for me to be impressed when it has to do with Sherlock Holmes. I’m very protective of the detective’s legacy, as are most fans, I think. Rather than try to recreate a set of stories ‘inspired’ by Sherlock or inserting him into a new setting, this book compiles all the bits of things we love about Holmes. With brief intros, it looks at the canon in unusual ways. There is a section about the dogs in Sherlock stories, his disguises and how Watson reacts to them, and the ones he lets go. It also chronicles the many adaptations, the actors who played him, and more. Seeing all these tidbits re-sorted in various ways lets even the most familiar reader see their hero in a new way. It is true to the original and a must-read for any Sherlock fan.
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
The Strangler Vine: A Blake and Avery Novel: Blake and Avery 1
by
M J Carter
mwgerard
, April 14, 2015
Without glorifying the colonial days of India, Carter has sketched an enjoyable adventure within these pages. India in 1837, the heydey of the British East India Company is the backdrop for two exceedingly unlikely heros. Both are Company men, and neither is happy about it. William Avery is young and finds himself broke in Calcutta. He has gambled away his entire salary and sold his few precious belongings. He is overextended on credit and only wants to return to England. Yet, he has no other prospects than to continue working for the Company and try to find his way out of debt. Jeremiah Blake has seen far too much in his time with the Company and has retreated into a lonely existence. He is reluctantly coaxed out for this one mission, on the promise of retirement from the Company. Blake gathers his final threads of duty and dignity for the job. The Company pairs the two and are told to find a wayward Company man turned radical poet, Xavier Mountstuart, somewhere in the northern provinces. His thinly-veiled last work was a harsh criticism of the Company and its society. After its publication, he escaped to a rural area, supposedly to research Thuggee culture for his next epic poem. The novel is reminiscent of the opening pages of The Moonstone and the sacking of Seringapatam (not to mention a main character named Blake). But instead of returning to the safe parlors of England, where India is a romantic, idealized notion, the book stays with Blake and Avery as they hack through the jungle (or jangal, as they call it), home of the so-called strangler vine. But they have more to contend with than nature. The very people Mountstuart is seeking are known to be the most ruthless of killers in the nation. They find unsuspecting prey, befriend their targets over the course of a few days, eating and drinking. Then when the stranger has let down his guard, they strike. The Thugs were a particularly monstrous species of bandit gang "notorious for strangling unwary travelers using a special scarf called a “rumal” as a sacred ritual to the goddess Kali" whose existence had only relatively recently been exposed. They were an ancient and secret fraternity with their own customs and language and a reach across the whole of India, and they were responsible for thousands of deaths" one Thug had confessed to over nine hundred murders. They were undeniably fascinating and macabre… ~Pg. 28 But it is soon clear that dangerous natives are not the most ruthless they will encounter. They fend off despotic rajs, suspicious locals, and duplicitous Company men along the way. Despite the constant struggles they seek the poet as instructed. In their life and death skirmishes, the Blake and Avery have to rely on one another. For hour after hour we stumbled on, fear and opium lending power to our lims. Past sal tree after sal tree, past strangler vines, past shrilling birds and inscrutable monkeys, over twisting roots, broken creepers, through clouds of quiet yellow butterflies, on small paths worn by the feet of animals that led nowhere. … After a while the trees seemed to swell into one curtain of punishing green, and the strangler vines seemed like nooses, and the noise of the jangal became one long screech. ~Pg. 283 They slog their way through the unwelcome adventures even as they realize the futility of their mission on a larger scale. And the characters are anything but static. Avery in particular fumbles his way through massive realizations, and Blake comes to terms with his inner demons. Those who love The Three Musketeers, or similar swashbuckling tales with political intrigue are bound to enjoy The Strangler Vine. Please read my reviews here: http://mwgerard.com
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
Did She Kill Him
by
Kate Colquhoun
mwgerard
, February 11, 2015
Stuck in the airport? Stuck with the in-laws? Feeling a bit murderous? Escape with this engrossing true (mainly unsolved) crime from Victorian England, with its roots in the American South. Florence Chandler, every inch the southern belle, took a steamer from New York to Liverpool in 1880. Her gold-digging mother planned to shop her on the English market but she didn’t have to wait that long. On the trans-Atlantic crossing, Florence found a match in James Maybrick, a successful cotton merchant based in Liverpool. FlorenceUnfortunately for them, neither was what they appeared. Maybrick’s company was struggling and Chandler was not the heiress to a significant fortune ��" the money with which James planned to shore up his business. Add to that the strain of living in a new country, with no friends or relations and the pressure of a husband 24 years her senior. It was not an auspicious start to a marriage. James had a weak immune system. Or at least he seemed to. His hypochondriacal tendencies were well known and he would happily down all and sundry if it claimed to restore health. Confined to his room for a couple of weeks, James was at the mercy of his wife and the household servants to bring him food and medicine. After a flurry of nurses and conflicting diagnoses, James Maybrick died at just 51, seemingly from some kind of arsenical (or other caustic chemical) overdose. What no one could agree on was just how he received this slow, methodical dosing. There was enough mystery surrounding his death to warrant an inquest and there were a number of likely suspects, Florence being chief among them. Colquhoun presents the events by stitching together police accounts, letters, diaries, newspaper stories and court documents. And as the reader scratches his head in befuddlement, the author is quick to provide contemporary context. Here she displays just how unmanaged the medicinal field was. In the linen closet he turned up a bottle of light liquid with no label, also a dressing case belonging to Florence that contained a small quantity of white power and six white pills. From her dressing table he took lotions, laudanum and boxes of unlabelled crystals and from the pantry he carried off a bottle of vanilla essence. The sitting room, the spare room and the lavatory were picked over, revealing morphia bottles, more stained handkerchiefs, quinine pills, nux vomica solutions, Price’s glycerine, corn plasters, pill boxes, soda mint tablets, toothpastes and several empty bottles smeared with sediment. In total, close to 120 items derived from almost thirty different chemists were collected from unconcealed spaces in the house. Florence’s dressing gown and the nightshirts worn by James during his final illness were added to mounting pile until the list ran to over eight carefully handwritten pages. Every bottle, box, packet and stain would be tested, painstakingly, for poison. ~Pg. 131 The notes, index, bibliography and other entries take up about 70 pages in the back of the book, making it an exhaustive and compelling research document as well. Even for someone like me who is merely interested but not actively researching, I found the supplements diverting. A most impressive outing from Colquhoun. mwgerard.com
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
A Pleasure and a Calling
by
Hogan, Phil
mwgerard
, February 11, 2015
It is every bit as creepy as the cover implies. Mr Heming is a quiet realtor in a tiny English town. Many of his neighbors couldn’t tell you his name, if they noticed him at all. He goes about his business efficiently, under the radar. But he’s not your typical realtor. Mr Heming makes copies of all the keys to all the properties he’s ever sold. And he uses them. He refuses to call himself a Peeping Tom. He doesn’t look in through windows ��" he watches you from inside your house. He lets himself in whenever it strikes his fancy. Once he was out of the way I doubled back and let myself into the house again. I didn’t have much time and I didn’t know much about the couple who lived there, but I’d been round the house once with Cliff and knew which cupboards and drawers I needed to get into. … Crossing the threshold of a strange house is like the opening line of a gripping story. At its best, penetrating deeper, it is like falling in love. ~Pg. 44-5 The book alternates between present day and Mr Heming’s childhood, bringing his skewed view of the world into finer focus. And as Mr Heming’s morals become greyer, the reader’s ability to trust his narration greys too. I gained unlawful entry into Abigail’s life a few minutes after I saw her leave for work the morning after the business with Mr and Mrs Sharp, her damp hair from the shower. I was surprised that she had been out on her usual run. … I had no doubt that this time the key would fit, though I paused to enjoy a moment of calm before turning it. Then I closed the door behind me, shut my eyes and inhaled, holding that first taste in my nostrils. ~Pg. 172 And like any good first-person thriller, the reader begins to root for the ‘bad guy.’ It’s clear what he is doing is wrong but the reader has become invested in him and understands his psyche. He becomes sympathetic, understandable. But only because we know it’s not real. The final showdown is more than a little reminiscent of The Tell-Tale Heart. A perfect shivery tale for the fireside this winter. mwgerard.com
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
The French Art of Revenge
by
Mark Zero
mwgerard
, February 11, 2015
Luke used to be an art thief, but he has gone straight. Well, sort of. He is really a war photographer based in Paris who somehow got caught up in an art heist. It started with a gallery opening and party. His friend Giselle pulls him aside to tell him A) Bergé is selling items from the art collection he made with Yves Saint Laurent; B) Their mutual friend Benoît has been kidnapped and is being held for the ransom; and C) The ransom is a particular painting that is going up on the auction block. The novel reads like a James Bond adventure. Luke engages in a madcap exploit to steal the painting and rescue his friend. All while trying avoid the police. Even in that, the author finds moments of reflective descriptions. After the commotion and the stress, the silent streets seemed surreal, but welcoming. It was an hour after late-night revelers tottered home and before the bakers and fishmongers got up, and more than an inch of snow had gauzed the avenues and sidewalks, absorbing every sound. The snow continued to fall, now in exhausted, featherlight flurries, making the night’s silence visible. In my twelve years of living in Paris, this was my first glimpse of a snowfall heavy enough to round the rough edges of buildings and bicycles parked on the street, snow so milky it was blue, snow like a ripped fringe of sky laid quietly over steeples and gargoyles and rusting cars, snow unsullied by the tumult of traffic and million hurrying footsteps and urinated dogs. ~Loc. 1239 In general, scenes are fast-moving and action is plentiful. The book is just plain fun. Read it for the pure romp that it is. mwgerard.com
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
Mr. Mac and Me
by
Esther Freud
mwgerard
, February 11, 2015
Freud has imagined the summer of 1914 for Charles Rennie Mackintosh and his wife through the eyes of Thomas Maggs, a thirteen-year old boy who lives on the Suffolk Coast. The artist couple takes a cottage in the small town, far from their busy, stressful lives in Glasgow. The novel is told a first person memoir by Thomas. He recounts the daily drudgery of his life ��" his alcoholic father, his weary mother, his useless grammar school teacher, the futile tasks he does each day. But his outlook changes when an eccentric artist from Scotland arrives in his small world. Mac, as he comes to know him, brings the outside world to him. It is only a day or two before I see the Scotsman again, walking along beside the river. mac, he is called, at least that’s what they call him when they whisper his business in the bar. And now I see why he is making so much talk. He looks for all the world like a detective. He’s wearing a great black cape and had of felted wool, and he is puffing on a pipe as if he’s Sherlock Holmes. ~Pg. 23 Thomas is sufficiently naive without being irritating to the reader. He is old enough to know that he is too young to matter in the town. It’s a frustrating place to be and is always looking for ways to make himself useful. This often results in bringing a gift to or helping the Macs in some way. In this way, their unlikely friendship grows. Thomas is especially thirsty for positive encouragement in his life. When Mac and his wife say his boat sketches have promise, he is desperate for more of this attention. Thomas becomes protective of the Macs, and is drawn into a precarious position when the war is declared at the end of the summer. The Suffolk coast is a prime target for German airships. It is only four days after the war begins that the Defense of the Realm Act (DORA) is enacted and life in the quiet fishing town is bizarre and paranoid. Seemingly innocent activities like feeding bread to ducks, flying a kite and buying a pair of binoculars was forbidden. Pub hours were reduced to lunch and dinner only, and all the beer had to be watered down. And when the air-raids began, the fear of anything German was rampant. This included the Macs. They had recently worked with architects in Austria and Germany. They had book with German words in it. And Mac had a pair of binoculars for watching the birds. Thomas, so often seen and not heard, does his best to protect the Macs from the suspicious towns people. And in so doing, learns what is most important to him. The story is engaging and easy to read. Thomas is reminiscent of the voice of Dylan Thomas in A Child’s Christmas in Wales. All the intricacies of a lost time and place come alive in this book. mwgerard.com
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
The Girl on the Train
by
Paula Hawkins
mwgerard
, February 11, 2015
What makes this novel so slippery is what Hawkins doesn’t write. Her narratives are broken up into chunks of time. The speaker leads the reader to a culminating moment when the story breaks. It then picks up again after the incident and we read the aftermath, which is often far different than the narrator had imagined. Thankfully, the author gives us a great ride with a definitive ending. We are not left to wonder ‘whodunit’, even if some of the details remain greyed around the edges. mwgerard.com
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
(0 of 1 readers found this comment helpful)
report this comment
Unbecoming
by
Rebecca Scherm
mwgerard
, February 11, 2015
In a dusty corner of Paris, Grace works in an antique repair shop. She fixes the tiny baubles on chandeliers, the cracking of gilt frames and the prongs of antique jewelry. But Grace is not just a woman having a youthful adventure. But behind her small tools and magnifying glass, she is hiding from a devious past whether she admits it to herself or not. It looked like something from a sidewalk sale in Garland, something that would sit next to a rack of leopard-print reading glasses. Perhaps it had once been a good example of its kind, but it was a Frankenstein piece now. The owners, entertainment lawyers in their forties, broke the teapot again and again. The first time, the bowl was cracked in three pieces; the second time it was the handle; the third, the bowl again. Why did they keep fixing it? ~Pg. 81 Grace was one of three friends/thieves who decided to rob an old museum house full of antiquities. She applied her art history knowledge from NYU (before she dropped out) to know what they should steal. Riley and Alls, her cohorts, are captured by the police but she escapes to Prague, and eventually Paris. In the City of Light she takes on a new persona and tries to immerse herself in the antiques and repair business. But she is always looking over her shoulder. As the parole date for her fellow thieves approaches, she is even more on edge. Grace sheds identities like it’s nothing. She is an amorphous object that slides into the suit that is required of her. At the same time, the person she was still fears revenge from the people she once knew. Like Tom Ripley, she adapts like a chameleon, even at the expense of her own self-identity. And as she swaps real diamonds for fake, facets of her true self dull as well. The book reads easily, despite the foggy narrative aspects. It’s a compelling heist story, told from the point of view of an apprehensive thief. mwgerard.com
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment
The Count of Monte Cristo
by
Dumas, Alexandre
mwgerard
, September 04, 2013
This may be my ultimate favorite book. Which is saying a lot. It is well over 1000 pages and at the end I still wished there were more. It has everything -- pirates, bandits, mistaken identity, revenge, theft, and more. What's sad is that the description is for another book entirely. This is nothing like Les Miserables -- other than, perhaps, it was originally written in French.
Was this comment helpful? |
Yes
|
No
report this comment