I've not had much luck with my reading of late. Books have been laid aside or abandoned altogether after a few pages after failing to engage me. Sometimes I've willed myself to continue: novels where you've read the first chapter without getting hooked are less likely to be picked up again than completely unread novels, and having too many of the first category lying around is depressing. So I did, for instance, manage to finish another book in the fairy-tale-inspired fantasy genre, although it was too slow-moving for me, in spite of goblins being present. One book where perseverance paid off, though, was The Word is Murder by Anthony Horowitz.
I usually enjoy Horowitz's writing, whether in crime novel or TV screenplay form. I really liked the TV series Foyle's War, and the crime novels The House of Silk, Moriarty and Magpie Murders all proved good reads. Thus, I bought The Word is Murder, regarding it as a sure thing. The first chapter failed to spark my interest, however. With hindsight, I can see why it was laid out the way it was, but at the time it only looked like an overlong scene-setting for one of the key elements of the murder mystery: a woman arranges the details surrounding her own funeral, and is killed later the same day.
Things brighten up, however, when we're introduced to our crime-solving duo: ex-policeman turned freelance Daniel Hawthorne, and... the author himself. The novel's conceit is that it's supposed to describe an investigation that really happened: Anthony Horowitz agrees to follow Hawthorne around and then write about his solving of a murder case, and then they split the profits. At first very much against the idea, Anthony (as I will call the character, as opposed to Horowitz the author) finally agrees to this plan for various reasons and becomes the Watson to Hawthorne's Holmes - not that Hawthorne has much in common with Holmes apart from an uncanny power of observation.
It's usually tricky for authors to insert themselves in their own work, and other examples from the world of crime fiction are not encouraging. Sweden's own 20th-century Queen of Crime, Maria Lang, created an author character called Almi Graan (an anagram of her pen name), who first started to appear in Lang's popular whodunnits in the Sixties. The problem is that Almi Graan's first appearances coincide with the decline of quality in Lang's books, and she is not as easy to like as was perhaps the intention. Agatha Christie's Ariadne Oliver, though good fun, isn't an unqualified success either: she adds little to the plots and is something of a self-indulgence on the author's part.
I thought Anthony Horowitz the character works well, though, as he is treated pretty mercilessly by Anthony Horowitz the author. The whole "this is a true crime" conceit can be a bit grating, with coquettish asides from the author bemoaning the fact that he doesn't have control of his material and would have written the whole thing up differently if it was all fiction. But it is all fiction, and the murder has enough fantastical elements - like the dramatic conclusion of the case - not to resemble "true crime" in the least. However, it's worth going along with it all for the sake of having Anthony as a Watson figure: not a complete clown, but pretty clueless compared to Hawthorne, whom he doesn't much like. For my part, I enjoyed the uningratiating Hawthorne and his dynamic with his author assistant. Anthony thinks that he needs to include colourful details about Hawthorne's character and private life in order for the book to sell, and tries to pump him, but Hawthorne is having none of it: the murder's the thing. On the other hand, one gets the feeling that Hawthorne likes Anthony rather better than the other way around. This looks like a crime novel series worth sticking with. Incidentally, another thing that warms me towards Hawthorne is that he didn't like the first chapter of Anthony's book.
Another crime novel where I had problems with the beginning chapter was Booked for Murder by Val McDermid, or V.L. McDermid as she signed herself for this book. It starts ostensibly from the point of view of a female hit-man (hit-woman?), but you can see there's a twist coming. I was glad when the story proper started, but all in all I got on considerably less well with this crime story compared to The Word is Murder. To be fair, this is an old novel of McDermid's, published in the Nineties, and is probably not one of her more ambitious works. Still, my goal was to try out McDermid, and as I wasn't that impressed, I'll probably be giving her Tony Hill books etc. a miss. The crime solver in Booked for Murder is Lindsay Gordon, a Scottish lesbian ex-journalist with a working-class background. Which doesn't have to mean she's chippy, but... she is. Or perhaps opinionated would be a better word. I didn't really warm to her, and the fact that her all-female circle of friends all share her views didn't make things better. The murder victim is killed in a flat in Islington, and I don't think it's wrong to say that the book's outlook overall is very Islington. Although the murder motive was pretty much impossible for the reader to figure out beforehand, I had no problem guessing who the murderer would turn out to be.
I'll say this much for Booked for Murder, though: it's an easy read, and what with all the reasonably sparky dialogue, it's a good distraction on the bus or if, like me at the moment, one is nursing an aching jaw. If Islington is your spiritual home, you may very well enjoy it.
torsdag 27 februari 2020
onsdag 12 februari 2020
Pleasant audiobook distractions
Ugh - while I had a run of benevolent posts at the end of 2019, I suspect 2020 will be the year when I complain a lot and will actually have to move into contentious territory, though I really don't wanna. Not yet, though. Let's have a nice, unprovocative theme for this week's post. Like, erm, audiobooks?
I've never really been into audiobooks until the last months, because I always preferred actually reading the books, and I still do. Belatedly, though, I've discovered the perfect use for an audiobook: as a means of taking your mind off the fact that you're doing something mind-numbingly boring. Earlier, I've tried music as a boredom-reliever, and in some situations - like simple working tasks that still require some attention - it's still the best remedy. But when it comes to, say, domestic chores, music leaves too much room in my brain to reflect on how dull the chore in question is and how much I would rather be doing something else. If I'm very lucky and find an audiobook I really enjoy, on the other hand, the opportunity to listen to it partly makes up for the dreariness of doing the washing, packing my lunch, unpacking supermarket bags or cleaning the kitchen. The first audiobook I tried - River Road - helped me get through a four-hour train journey when the novel I'd brought failed to thrill.
The service I use is Audible, which has its advantages and disadvantages. The selection of books on offer is outstanding, but it's pretty pricey. I thought that the monthly subscription would give me access to the audiobooks on offer for free, but no such luck. You get a couple of free ones at the start, then one free book per month, but that's it: the rest you have to buy, and they're not cheap. I'll think I'll stick with it, though: I can work the app now, and it's nice to have so much to choose from. Here are some of the audios I've found so far:
River Road by Carol Goodman: Carol Goodman is the perfect autumn read, and most enjoyable in traditional book form. The settings, which are often academic and/or connected to creative writing, like a school teaching the Fine Arts or a writers' colony, have a high cosiness factor, and Goodman's use of myths and folklore appeals greatly to my inner librarian. On the down side, her heroines - often pretty opinionated - can annoy me, and the payoff of a nicely set up story is not always satisfying. The earliest books - The Lake Of Dead Languages and The Seduction Of Water - had wonderful atmosphere, and I loved the fairy-tale theme in The Seduction Of Water. But there are really no prizes for guessing who the main villain is in either of these novels. Later novels like The Other Mother and The Night Visitors are less easily guessable, but also less cosy and less full of "gosh, I know this myth/fairy-tale - aren't I learned" moments.
River Road was a novel I didn't get hold of in book form, so I was glad to find the audio version. It's in between the early, bookish but a bit predictable Goodman novels and the grittier later ones. Though not Goodman's best, it still has an enjoyable atmosphere - the protagonist Nan teaches creative writing at a college, which is the kind of job you have if you're a Goodman heroine - and as she has had some hard knocks in her life, like losing her small daughter in a car accident (why are writers so obsessed with kids who die or go missing?), I may actually have appreciated this story more as an easily digestible audiobook than if I'd pored over the pages of the actual novel.
Blythewood, also by Carol Goodman: This teen fantasy story was a disappointment. I'd have thought someone well-read like Goodman would be able to come up with a fantasy world enriched by classic myths and fairy-tales, but this was pretty generic stuff. The teenage heroine's love interest is a beautiful boy with wings, and the main villain is a creature of smoke and shadows - nothing particularly new there, and the magic school setup feels pretty done by now. I don't think I'll bother with the sequel; swooning over winged, misunderstood male beauties just isn't my thing.
Evil Under The Sun by Agatha Christie: One way to make sure you don't lose the thread of an audiobook's narrative is to listen to a book you've already read. This was read with relish by David Suchet, who did all the voices, not just Poirot's. If you stick with it through the somewhat slow start - Mrs Gardiner's monologues can be a bit much in this format - this is good fun, ideal for sorting and archiving documents to.
Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie: What, again? Well, this was one of the freebies on offer at the start of my subscription, and I thought it would be a good opportunity to familiarise myself with the play as opposed to the book. It wasn't made clear, though, how close this adaptation actually was to the play, and apart from some obvious liberties taken with the source material - the Darling household scenes are set during the Blitz; Tiger Lily leads a gang of "Lost Girls", so not for the first time in the history of Peter Pan adaptations her poor tribe is shafted and written out of the story altogether; Hook flirts outrageously with the devoted Smee - the story follows the one in Peter and Wendy very closely indeed. I'm not sure I'm much the wiser. It was a nice, light-hearted listen, though. Rupert Everett's Hook is the campest pirate who ever yo-ho-hoed on the seven seas, which is something of a pity - even the Disney version is a wonder of dignity and menace in comparison - but he draws the odd chuckle. Adeel Akhtar is sweet as Smee (the polar opposite of his Thénardier) and the kids are convincing.
The Two Destinies by Wilkie Collins: OK, I'm not going to lie: about one hour in, this story is still rather soporific, even if it is read by the admirable Sam West. I'm a huge fan of Collins, but he can be long-winded in his explanations, and perhaps he's not ideal audiobook material. Anyway, I couldn't resist getting nine hours listening time as my free book of the month (a Christie would only have offered six hours). It remains to be seen if my greed has deceived me - nine hours are no good if I'm to give up after three. But sometimes Collins is a late starter, so there's still hope.
I've never really been into audiobooks until the last months, because I always preferred actually reading the books, and I still do. Belatedly, though, I've discovered the perfect use for an audiobook: as a means of taking your mind off the fact that you're doing something mind-numbingly boring. Earlier, I've tried music as a boredom-reliever, and in some situations - like simple working tasks that still require some attention - it's still the best remedy. But when it comes to, say, domestic chores, music leaves too much room in my brain to reflect on how dull the chore in question is and how much I would rather be doing something else. If I'm very lucky and find an audiobook I really enjoy, on the other hand, the opportunity to listen to it partly makes up for the dreariness of doing the washing, packing my lunch, unpacking supermarket bags or cleaning the kitchen. The first audiobook I tried - River Road - helped me get through a four-hour train journey when the novel I'd brought failed to thrill.
The service I use is Audible, which has its advantages and disadvantages. The selection of books on offer is outstanding, but it's pretty pricey. I thought that the monthly subscription would give me access to the audiobooks on offer for free, but no such luck. You get a couple of free ones at the start, then one free book per month, but that's it: the rest you have to buy, and they're not cheap. I'll think I'll stick with it, though: I can work the app now, and it's nice to have so much to choose from. Here are some of the audios I've found so far:
River Road by Carol Goodman: Carol Goodman is the perfect autumn read, and most enjoyable in traditional book form. The settings, which are often academic and/or connected to creative writing, like a school teaching the Fine Arts or a writers' colony, have a high cosiness factor, and Goodman's use of myths and folklore appeals greatly to my inner librarian. On the down side, her heroines - often pretty opinionated - can annoy me, and the payoff of a nicely set up story is not always satisfying. The earliest books - The Lake Of Dead Languages and The Seduction Of Water - had wonderful atmosphere, and I loved the fairy-tale theme in The Seduction Of Water. But there are really no prizes for guessing who the main villain is in either of these novels. Later novels like The Other Mother and The Night Visitors are less easily guessable, but also less cosy and less full of "gosh, I know this myth/fairy-tale - aren't I learned" moments.
River Road was a novel I didn't get hold of in book form, so I was glad to find the audio version. It's in between the early, bookish but a bit predictable Goodman novels and the grittier later ones. Though not Goodman's best, it still has an enjoyable atmosphere - the protagonist Nan teaches creative writing at a college, which is the kind of job you have if you're a Goodman heroine - and as she has had some hard knocks in her life, like losing her small daughter in a car accident (why are writers so obsessed with kids who die or go missing?), I may actually have appreciated this story more as an easily digestible audiobook than if I'd pored over the pages of the actual novel.
Blythewood, also by Carol Goodman: This teen fantasy story was a disappointment. I'd have thought someone well-read like Goodman would be able to come up with a fantasy world enriched by classic myths and fairy-tales, but this was pretty generic stuff. The teenage heroine's love interest is a beautiful boy with wings, and the main villain is a creature of smoke and shadows - nothing particularly new there, and the magic school setup feels pretty done by now. I don't think I'll bother with the sequel; swooning over winged, misunderstood male beauties just isn't my thing.
Evil Under The Sun by Agatha Christie: One way to make sure you don't lose the thread of an audiobook's narrative is to listen to a book you've already read. This was read with relish by David Suchet, who did all the voices, not just Poirot's. If you stick with it through the somewhat slow start - Mrs Gardiner's monologues can be a bit much in this format - this is good fun, ideal for sorting and archiving documents to.
Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie: What, again? Well, this was one of the freebies on offer at the start of my subscription, and I thought it would be a good opportunity to familiarise myself with the play as opposed to the book. It wasn't made clear, though, how close this adaptation actually was to the play, and apart from some obvious liberties taken with the source material - the Darling household scenes are set during the Blitz; Tiger Lily leads a gang of "Lost Girls", so not for the first time in the history of Peter Pan adaptations her poor tribe is shafted and written out of the story altogether; Hook flirts outrageously with the devoted Smee - the story follows the one in Peter and Wendy very closely indeed. I'm not sure I'm much the wiser. It was a nice, light-hearted listen, though. Rupert Everett's Hook is the campest pirate who ever yo-ho-hoed on the seven seas, which is something of a pity - even the Disney version is a wonder of dignity and menace in comparison - but he draws the odd chuckle. Adeel Akhtar is sweet as Smee (the polar opposite of his Thénardier) and the kids are convincing.
The Two Destinies by Wilkie Collins: OK, I'm not going to lie: about one hour in, this story is still rather soporific, even if it is read by the admirable Sam West. I'm a huge fan of Collins, but he can be long-winded in his explanations, and perhaps he's not ideal audiobook material. Anyway, I couldn't resist getting nine hours listening time as my free book of the month (a Christie would only have offered six hours). It remains to be seen if my greed has deceived me - nine hours are no good if I'm to give up after three. But sometimes Collins is a late starter, so there's still hope.
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