This breezy page-turner is tinged with a pleasingly mellow shade of Faulkner Lite – not too much eccentricity, not too much sins-of-the-fathers fatali...moreThis breezy page-turner is tinged with a pleasingly mellow shade of Faulkner Lite – not too much eccentricity, not too much sins-of-the-fathers fatalism, and just enough Southern atmosphere to make you reach for a glass of lemonade and be thankful for modern pharmaceuticals. Here's the premise: a young Chicago woman gets an invitation from her college friend, Will, to spend the summer in his family’s ancestral home in Tennessee. She can relax on the porch, eat chicken salad with his great aunts, and maybe start writing the novel she’s been thinking about. Will’s family turns out to be the kind that has framed letters from Thomas Jefferson on the wall and Secrets Nobody Ever Talks About. For the bohemian-raised Ava, who doesn’t know her mother’s real name let alone her genealogy back to Adam, this is as much of a culture shock as dressing for dinner and hearing people’s life story at the gas station.
Fortunately, the book isn’t full of the overly wacky “characters” that often plague Southern fiction. Well, there is a cousin who dresses up like Edgar Allan Poe, but he’s kind of funny. The great aunts are charming, the story moves along nicely, and the occasional flashbacks to 1927 or 1931 make for an intriguing element. This isn’t great literature, but it’s a great summer read. (less)
Another funny mystery, though not nearly as good as the previous two. This time the murder takes place at the fictional St. Michael’s College, Cambrid...moreAnother funny mystery, though not nearly as good as the previous two. This time the murder takes place at the fictional St. Michael’s College, Cambridge, where the cash-strapped college is hosting a special weekend for rich alumni. Unfortunately, this time the author often goes for easy jokes, the solution is improbable, and — worst of all — there’s an appallingly written American character who occasionally throws cowboy expressions from TV Westerns into snarky, complexly British-sounding sentences. It's as though the author couldn't make the effort to change her voice but every now and then remembered to sound "Texan," which is weird because she's smart and has lived in both England and the US, so why the gross unevenness? I was also a bit irritated because I kept referring to the map of the college at the front of the book to keep track of who was where, and it didn’t matter, so I felt taken in. Or maybe it did matter but I couldn’t figure out how. Not bad, but not great. Certainly not disappointing enough to give up on this series.(less)
Huh-larious. From the woman who brought us Death and the Cozy Writer comes a new installment of murder among spectacularly absurd people. This time th...moreHuh-larious. From the woman who brought us Death and the Cozy Writer comes a new installment of murder among spectacularly absurd people. This time they’re an assortment of mystery writers at a conference at some Scottish castle. Most of them have a motive for killing the star of the conference, a hack arriviste whose books are obviously inferior to their own and yet, inexplicably, sell better. (The cow probably didn’t even write them herself!) To add insult to injury, she is also a blond knockout who’s about to make off with someone’s husband, or maybe she already did – I can’t remember many details, including who the murderer was, because the mystery is secondary to the amusement. I think the solution somehow hinges on the castle’s floor plan, so pay attention to the map in the front. I always skip that sort of thing because I have no sense of spacial relations. Perfect for wiling away a couple of hours.(less)
If you’ve ever wanted a short escape into the innocence and charm of bygone years, this is your book. In 1945, college student Marjorie and her friend...moreIf you’ve ever wanted a short escape into the innocence and charm of bygone years, this is your book. In 1945, college student Marjorie and her friend have the amazing luck of spending the summer not in dullsville Story City, Iowa, but in the Big Apple! Their miniature apartment is a dream, seeing all the famous stores on Fifth Avenue is a dream, but the biggest dream of all is landing a job at Tiffany & Co! Can you imagine?!
They spend the summer working, window shopping, entertaining visiting sorority sisters, meeting boys, and occasionally going to famous hot spots. Marjorie’s wide-eyed enthusiasm for the glamour of New York is an endearing glimpse into a less jaded, more elegant time. People dressed up to shop. Dessert at a fancy restaurant was a treat. And for a Midwestern girl, the famous stores and skyscrapers of New York were a daily thrill. I found her joy to be contagious because it reflects a delightful appreciation, not pretentious materialism. Marjorie’s enthusiasm for the jewels and china at Tiffany is an extension of her enthusiasm for real quality and distant glamour. It reminded me of how the world has shrunk but human nature is the same – there may be a Tiffany & Co. ten minutes away from me at Stanford Shopping Center so it’s not that exciting, but I gasped OUT LOUD the first time I saw the Eiffel Tower and Hagia Sophia and Red Square (who doesn’t?). Somehow the thrill of seeing people and places you’ve always heard about outweighs any desire to appear sophisticated, and Marjorie perfectly captures that thrill – as a result she sweeps you along in the joy of seeing a famous bandleader or handling the fancy dishes on the second floor, not because she’s saying, “Look – I lead a glamorous life,” but because she’s saying, “Golly!!” How could you not be charmed?
Though this is not Great Literature, Marjorie’s writing style rings with her goodness and earnestness and grounds the memoir in traditional, Midwest values as much as any of the details. I wouldn’t say her reminisces are portrayed through rose-colored glasses – for many, life really was like that. Reading the book was an easy delight and made me yearn for more elegance – for ropes of pearls instead of sweat pants, and doormen instead of outlet malls. Sigh. (less)
Hilarious! Much of the credit belongs to Clifford Norgate’s unparalleled gifts as a narrator (I listened to it on cd), but I must admit that with this...moreHilarious! Much of the credit belongs to Clifford Norgate’s unparalleled gifts as a narrator (I listened to it on cd), but I must admit that with this novel Georgette Heyer actually does, in part, deserve a comparison to Jane Austen. Mind you, not because of elegant satire, intricately balanced structure, or searing insights into the inner lives of characters – don’t get your hopes up – but because of her effortless wit. It’s like the illicit offspring of Jane Austen and P. G. Wodehouse.
Vernon, the Marquis of Alverstoke, is as bored with the society belles his sisters keep throwing his way as he is with his interfering sisters themselves, and who can blame him? They’re mercenary, shallow, and not clever enough to mask either defect. Plus they’re always showing up uninvited and pestering him for favors. Then into his drawing room comes Frederica, orphaned daughter of a distant cousin. At twenty-four she is the de facto guardian of her little brothers and a breathtakingly beautiful younger sister, Charis. Wishing to give Charis a season in London in order to secure her a good husband, she applies to Alverstoke for sponsorship. Alverstoke is floored. How many dreadful females must he endure in one day? But then it dawns on him that by giving a joint ball for Charis and one of his unpromising nieces, he can do a favor for his late cousin AND score off his sister, whose daughter will be woefully eclipsed by the angelic Charis. Ha!
Pretty soon Alverstoke becomes sucked into the rather slapstick imbroglios of Frederica’s younger brothers, who for some reason like his acerbity and believe he’s their new best friend. As he bails them out of various scrapes, all of which are surprisingly funny, his crustiness begins to flake – though fortunately just a bit.
Romances in general are dicey, and “historical romance” is a genre that fills me with horror; my few forays into it have not been rewarding. However, Georgette Heyer’s between-the-wars mysteries are so funny that I keep hoping the same humor will surface in her Regency novels – and voilà! Success!! This offering is laugh-out-loud funny and surprisingly engaging. Most amazingly, much of the humor comes from the children — usually the kiss of death. Again, I think the narrator is largely to thank. Not sure it’d be as much fun to read as to listen to. (less)
In the village of Silverstream, poor Barbara Buncle is in distress. Her ever-increasing economies simply cannot keep pace with her dwindling dividends...moreIn the village of Silverstream, poor Barbara Buncle is in distress. Her ever-increasing economies simply cannot keep pace with her dwindling dividends. Should she try keeping chickens? No, they’re rather alarming. In desperation she decides to write a book, and, knowing little else besides the goings-on of her village, she writes a thinly veiled description of her friends and neighbors. Surprisingly, Miss Buncle’s book not only gets published, it becomes a best-seller. Critics are in violent disagreement over whether the book is harmless drivel, the product of a brilliant satirist, or.....the lurid imaginings of a dangerous subversive! Miss Buncle is warmed by the praise, shocked by the criticism, but mostly just grateful to be able to pay the butcher and buy a new hat.
The reaction of the villagers, however, is worth the price of admission. It doesn’t take long for everyone to realize the novel, presciently titled Disturber of the Peace, is about them. As you’d suspect, the innocent are enchanted and the guilty are outraged. Can they really have been nursing a viper to their bosom all this time?! Worse, the book doesn’t merely hold a mirror up to the villagers — it imagines some of them engaging in daring, destiny-fulfilling enterprises. Clearly, the heretical author must be ferreted out and punished! Hilarity and satire ensue.
I read this, laughing out loud, at dinner every night during a solitary week on the Oregon coast, which provided a nice setting for a book about a woman isolated by a secret and often reveling in it. It also was a sort of a gentle, engaging, distant English cousin of The Help in that it shows what happens when people see themselves through someone else’s eyes. Funny, charming, insightful — this is a winner. (less)
Miserly Great-Uncle Matthew is both frightful and frightfully rich. Though he has a surfeit of great-nephews, he has no heir. But he does have a prett...moreMiserly Great-Uncle Matthew is both frightful and frightfully rich. Though he has a surfeit of great-nephews, he has no heir. But he does have a pretty young ward on whom he decides to settle his fortune... provided she marries one of the great-nephews. Everyone knows our heroine Kitty has been infatuated with rakish “Cousin Jack” since childhood, yet when Great Uncle Matthew summons all the great-nephews to his house so they can try their luck proposing to Kitty, Jack doesn’t show up. The nerve! Kitty is not to be deterred, so she enters into a sham engagement — partly to make Jack jealous, partly to get away from her dreadful guardian and stay in London, and partly to get trousseau money so she can go shopping. Intrigue and capers ensue.
While Cotillion isn’t as funny as Heyer's mysteries, the prose is still delightfully witty. It’s as though she transported a group of relatives, many of whom openly loathe each other, from a 1930’s country house murder back to 1816 and left out the murder (although you’ll be able to offer some suggestions). With the exception of period slang and marvelous period detail, the characters sounded – and better yet, acted – about the same, which is to say endearingly zany. And as usual, the dim bulbs are the best comic value. An enjoyable light read for an evening or two. (less)
Alexander McCall Smith has a penchant for “cute” titles, some quite funny(At the Villa of Reduced Circumstances). However, something about a character...moreAlexander McCall Smith has a penchant for “cute” titles, some quite funny(At the Villa of Reduced Circumstances). However, something about a character named La, short for Lavender, struck me as too twee even for my low standards. I should have followed my instinct and skipped this, but I hoped for shades of Guernsey Literary and Potato Pie Peel Society, or maybe “Paradise Road,” or at the very least some insight into the Women’s Land Army.
In brief, the story is about a woman who moves to a farm to wait out World War II and starts an orchestra that meets once a month or so. The book’s failing can be summarized as briefly: None of the plotlines, let alone the themes, is developed. There’s a Polish refugee who might not actually be Polish (spies? moral dilemmas? star-crossed lovers?!?) but nothing thrilling happens. There’s La’s farm work that breezes past chickens and planting potatoes for about five paragraphs total. Then there’s some thief-in-the-neighborhood intrigue that I can’t remember the resolution to because it was dull and underdeveloped, and finally there is the orchestra, the one that “saves the world,” which practices only a few times and has two performances at which nothing happens.
Books that can’t help but be dull are one thing; who would expect drama from Bird Watching for Beginners or How to Be Your Own Accountant? But dull books that should be intriguing are the worst kind of bait-and-switch. This could have been about conflicts of personal and national loyalties, the transcending power of music, and ordinary people coping with extraordinary circumstances. The big mystery is how you could take these elements and turn out a tedious story. It also — worse still — is philosophically unmoored. For example, La wails about the destruction of war, but then thinks, “Hmm, those Nazis are so terrible that they’re actually evil! We must stop evil.” Later she laments, “Why would we develop more weapons? Who would ever go to war again? Let’s revive the old orchestra and have a concert for peace!” Imagine this oversimplification stretched out for three hundred pages. (less)
More slow charm and gentle truth seeking from our friends at the #1 Ladies Detective Agency, who now have a competitor in the form of the Satisfaction...moreMore slow charm and gentle truth seeking from our friends at the #1 Ladies Detective Agency, who now have a competitor in the form of the Satisfaction Guaranteed Detective Agency (“Don’t take any chances! Entrust your inquiries to a MAN!”). A ten year old could see the competition isn’t going to be that stiff, but the lack of subtlety is one of the most delightful qualities of these books, partly because it reminds me that most people really aren’t that adept at hiding unpleasant traits, and partly because it gives Mma Ramatswe material for her commentaries on men.
This one has a couple of bittersweet storylines that pulled at my sympathies — the trusty assistant Mma Makutsi starts her own business and becomes involved in a bit of an intrigue, and Mma Ramatswe has a client who needs help rectifying a past sin. Mma Ramatswe doesn’t have murders to solve, but she does have to deal with other crimes and failings that must be put right, and this she does with compassion and principles. (less)
This is the third, and so far my favorite, of the #1 Ladies Detective Agency series. As always, Alexander McCall Smith’s simple, rhythmic prose seems...moreThis is the third, and so far my favorite, of the #1 Ladies Detective Agency series. As always, Alexander McCall Smith’s simple, rhythmic prose seems to echo the plodding of cattle under a warm Botswana sun, lulling you into a world that has time for repetition and tradition and courtesy. While I found the first two in the series delightful, this was more moving and satisfying. And funny!
For some reason, I find the simplistic style charming, not banal. Perhaps that’s because it reflects the rather simple quality of Mma Ramatswe’s cases and observations into human nature. There are no tricky stabbed-in-a-locked-room mysteries here, just insights into the sort of messes normal people get themselves into because of normal failings. (less)
Before you dismiss this as tacky light fiction, which I would have done if it didn’t appeal to my mania for country house murders, let me say that it...moreBefore you dismiss this as tacky light fiction, which I would have done if it didn’t appeal to my mania for country house murders, let me say that it had me laughing aloud on the first page. A dreadful old mystery writer invites his offspring, all of whom loathe him, to his estate to celebrate his engagement to a glamorous socialite who, it doesn’t take the kids long to dig up, was suspected of murdering her first husband decades ago. The offspring would decline the invitation (also maliciously extended to their mother, the ex-wife), except then they run the risk of being cut out of his will, a prospect he’s tormented them with for years. So the troops assemble, in varying degrees of sobriety and sanity, to see if they can scuttle the engagement. At the very least, they can see what this woman is like — after all, it’s impossible that she actually loves their father, so is she hoping to cut in on their inheritance, or just secure an easy old age. . . or maybe murder him for the loot??
The characters are all so flamboyantly appalling that you don’t care who gets murdered, or why. Just watching them try to scheme and cope is entertaining enough (though I did develop a soft spot for the frumpy daughter who has made a name for herself publishing Bible-themed cookbooks). But the real delight is the writing — a pungent blend of dry wit and overt snarkiness. (less)
I don’t even have words to describe the madcap charm of this book. No Miss Marple, no Poirot, just a heroine who redefines “spunky” and a plot that wi...moreI don’t even have words to describe the madcap charm of this book. No Miss Marple, no Poirot, just a heroine who redefines “spunky” and a plot that will leave you yearning for high jinks in the desert. International intrigue has never been such fun, nor has it probably ever been infiltrated by a mediocre shorthand typist. Miss Victoria Jones, freshly booted from her job, sits in a London park figuring out her next move. Enter a handsome lad named Edward who enchants Victoria but – oh no! – is leaving the next day for a job in Baghdad. Well, what’s to stop her from following him? Armed with a can-do attitude and a remarkable gift for invention (some would call her a pathological liar, but things sound so much better when she makes them up), she’s off to the unknown. Subterfuge, danger, and daring exploits await her as she becomes embroiled in shady dealings and . . . even better! . . . an international conspiracy. In one thrilling episode, a spy stumbles into her hotel room and DIES! Who can resist such drama?! Certainly not the resourceful Victoria, who’s up for anything.
Agatha Christie’s seamless style lends itself to this sort of action/adventure caper. But the dialogue is what really wooed me, probably because I listened to the audio version read by Emilia Fox. The voices she does for each character really bring out the comedy. At times I hooted with laughter. An absolutely delightful summer escape! (less)
I have fond memories of Mary Stewart books from my tween days, but I didn’t expect to enjoy one now that I’m old and critical (that's just sad; maybe...moreI have fond memories of Mary Stewart books from my tween days, but I didn’t expect to enjoy one now that I’m old and critical (that's just sad; maybe “mature and learned”?). What a fun surprise! This one has all the elements you could hope for in a 1950’s adventure/thriller/romance — a young woman trying to start a new life; a mysterious French count; suspicious happenings at a chateau; a handsome and swarthy Frenchman who MIGHT BE DANGEROUS; midnight picnics; near-death adventures; and. . . hold on to your hat. . . a perilous car chase! And, as a bonus, the main character takes at least two days, not ten minutes, to fall helplessly in love. Fiction so light it's "lite," but tons of fun. (less)
In spite of a slow start, this was diverting enough that the author’s obvious looting of Jane Austen characters and situations didn’t give me heartbur...moreIn spite of a slow start, this was diverting enough that the author’s obvious looting of Jane Austen characters and situations didn’t give me heartburn. Our heroine, Lydia, is as sure of herself as Emma, as ruled by her sense of reason as Elinor Dashwood, and even more outspoken than Elizabeth Bennet. And, like Anne Elliot, she turned down a proposal in her youth and is now on the precipice of confirmed spinsterhood. However, Lydia is content to be single, as it affords her the freedom to pursue her own interests and generally please herself. Plus she enjoys relatively easy terms with her rejected suitor, the eligible if irascible Mr. Durrant. (This, clearly, is where we enter the realm of fiction: in my experience, rejected suitors don’t stay in the neighborhood for ten years making amusingly sardonic conversation; they marry someone else and maybe keep you on their Christmas card list. But I like Mr. Durrant – he's blunt and crabby – so I won’t quibble.)
The story gets moving when Lydia is enlisted to accompany a friend’s young ward to Bath. At first Lydia balks at the request – Bath, after all! The capital of shallowness and stupidity! But she relents, partly from a sense of duty to her friend and partly to prove that she’s capable of anything. For who better to guide a young woman through the treacherous waters of courtship than a lady of sense and taste?
Turns out the young charge, Phoebe, is all sweetness and fresh beauty and fifty thousand pounds, but she’s torn between two lovers...feeling like a fool. The reader probably isn’t torn between them, though. One of them exudes good breeding; the other exudes the sort of impetuous romanticism that makes you want to throw things at him. Happily, Mr. Durrant also descends on Bath to find a wife – for the sole purpose of blighting the hopes of his spendthrift nephew – which adds to the fun. Soon the nephew shows up, impossibly charming. Intrigue, misunderstandings, and romance abound.
The critic who called Jude Morgan "a latter-day Jane Austen" is sadly mistaken, or bribed. However, while this certainly lacks the finesse and depth of Jane Austen’s works, it’s still entertaining, if at times rather too consciously witty. But I enjoyed it. The characterizations aren’t subtle, and I was irritated by a shameless caricature of Mrs. Elton, minus the humor, but we can’t have everything, and An Accomplished Woman is enough for a pleasant evening. (less)
This one is set in post-war London (post WWII, not I) and has a couple of more modern elements than her usual 1930’s mysteries where people are murder...moreThis one is set in post-war London (post WWII, not I) and has a couple of more modern elements than her usual 1930’s mysteries where people are murdered more genteelly. Two identical murders occur during and after a duplicate bridge party; I suspect if you actually played bridge the descriptions of the game wouldn’t be as tedious. Nevertheless, it’s a decent mystery.(less)
Not my favorite, but still witty. Three adult siblings inherit a rambling old house called The Priory, which has a reputation for being haunted. At fi...moreNot my favorite, but still witty. Three adult siblings inherit a rambling old house called The Priory, which has a reputation for being haunted. At first they're excited about fixing it up, but pretty soon strange (perhaps ghostly??) goings-on begin to make them nervous. When a murder occurs, they can't help but wonder if there really is a malevolent ghost after all! I didn’t find the mystery as engaging as others, but there's an aunt who occasionally comes out with comments that made me shriek with laughter. She's worth reading the book for.(less)
Admitting you’re a murder mystery addict is sort of like admitting you buy bags of Fritos knowing you’re the only one in the house who will eat them....moreAdmitting you’re a murder mystery addict is sort of like admitting you buy bags of Fritos knowing you’re the only one in the house who will eat them. You tell yourself, “Maybe someone will drop in for lunch...Maybe I’ll have some little kids over,” but really you’re a just a pathetic chow hound. I tell myself that mysteries exercise my brain somehow, but we all know they’re just entertainment, especially as I rarely figure out who done it.
However, while I may have no restraint, at least I have taste! Georgette Heyer is a fabulous mystery writer even though she’s never included in the Christie/Marsh/Sayers/Tey canon. (In fact, she’s best known for — horrors! — her Regency romances.) Although her plots aren’t necessarily ingenious, her characters and dialogue make you forget there’s even a mystery to solve. The Unfinished Clue, in particular, is a scream. Dreadful old Sir Arthur Billington-Smith delights in tormenting people, especially his colorless wife and his son and heir, Geoffrey. However, one weekend at a particularly miserable house party, he unwittingly delights other people by getting himself murdered — and in the library! With a lead pipe! No, actually with a knife. But the fact that everyone who knew him (including the reader) had a good motive for wanting him dead complicates things a bit.
While all the characters are amusing, especially entertaining is Geoffrey’s wildly unsuitable fiancée — a Mexican cabaret dancer named Lola who is as flamboyant and she is self-absorbed. Some of the dialogue is the verbal equivalent of slapstick (if that makes sense), and the mystery is engaging in the best tradition of classic English house murders. (less)
Murder at Christmas — hasn’t it crossed everyone’s mind? There may be even more motives in this family gathering than in your own, though. At the esta...moreMurder at Christmas — hasn’t it crossed everyone’s mind? There may be even more motives in this family gathering than in your own, though. At the estate of crabby old Uncle Nathaniel, a disparate assortment of relatives and their even more bizarre significant others assemble to spend an awkward Christmas, made even more awkward by the unflagging cheerfulness of Uncle Matthew, who wants to put up tacky decorations and play parlor games. Naturally someone is murdered...but murdered without a weapon in a room locked from the inside! The “how” is as interesting as the “who”, but the real charm of this book is in Heyer’s characterizations of all the loopy relatives. (less)
A friend gave this to me with the recommendation, “You’ll LOVE this – it sounds like you!” I assume she meant because the main character is a witty bo...moreA friend gave this to me with the recommendation, “You’ll LOVE this – it sounds like you!” I assume she meant because the main character is a witty book lover, not because she’s a critical spinster. I don’t dare ask.
At any rate, this is easily one of the most charming books I’ve read in a while. Our heroine, Juliet, spent the war writing light pieces for a women’s magazine, and now she yearns for more substantial material. When she receives a letter from a Guernsey man who has in his possession a book she used to own, and finds out that during the war he belonged to a “Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society,” she’s intrigued. She writes him back. It turns out that at the beginning of the occupation (Germany occupied the Channel Islands from 1939-1945), a group of friends had gathered for a covert pork supper, only to have to make up some excuse for breaking curfew when a Nazi officer discovered them walking home late at night. The Literary Society was the result.
Juliet begins corresponding with the various members of the society, but eventually decides she wants to go to Guernsey to meet them in person — as will you!! What a delightful assortment of characters — most of their letters made me laugh out loud, and several made me cry. Juliet’s letters are an absolute scream. Plus, as a bonus, you get an intriguing glimpse into what life was like for those trapped on an occupied island for the duration of the war. The hardships, friendships, and everyday heroism of the characters actually warmed my heart!
My only complaint is that it wasn’t until page 61 that the author managed to write in a different voice. In other words, most of the characters sound exactly alike, as though the same person is corresponding with herself. Creating distinct voices is a trick for any author, but good ones do it far more successfully. And there’s one woman, a non-member of the Literary Society, who’s so absurdly interfering that she makes Mrs. Kravitz of “Bewitched” look like an Arthur Miller creation. But the rest of the book (ridiculous sitcom character aside) is delightful enough to make up for the contrived and often predictable aspects. A quick read that will leave you smiling...and wanting to go to Guernsey! (less)
I bought this in the Denver airport, which pretty much sums up its literary merit, but I have to admit I stayed up late that night to finish it. F-U-N...moreI bought this in the Denver airport, which pretty much sums up its literary merit, but I have to admit I stayed up late that night to finish it. F-U-N! The premise is pedestrian enough — a wealthy Manhattan socialite discovers her husband was unfaithful — but for our heroine the consequences are particularly dire. Right away she finds herself bumping down every rung of the social ladder until she collapses at the bottom, which, in her case, means dyeing her own hair and buying a pair of sale-priced Hush Puppies. Oh, the shame!! But what makes it such a fun read is that queen bee Jo decides not to take her fate lying down. Instead, she plots revenge. Now in some books the search for revenge destroys the avenger and we’re left with a good moral lesson, but not in this one — and therein lies the charm. Who WOULD take treachery and humiliation lying down? Better people than the ones in this novel, that’s who. Perhaps Jo isn’t the brightest or most effective avenger, but you can overlook her limitations because at least she’s aware of how shallow her former social circle is...and doesn't apologize for wanting to get back in. The prose isn’t anything great, but it’s not dreadful either. Definitely a fun beach read. (less)
As delicious as fizzy lemonade and only slightly more substantive, this novel by the screenwriter of “Gosford Park” takes you through the courtship an...moreAs delicious as fizzy lemonade and only slightly more substantive, this novel by the screenwriter of “Gosford Park” takes you through the courtship and marriage of a middle-class beauty (“I knew she was a social climber; I didn’t realize she was a mountaineer!”) and an aristocratic dullard. No one escapes the dry acerbity of author Julian Fellowes, who was born into the bosom of the upper-class and obviously knows the species intimately. A very light, very fun, very delectably waspish portrait of a class of people who are polar opposites of the type populating reality-TV. (less)
Supremely amusing account of a genteel English housewife between the wars. Her scattered, chatty, and often wry observations on her husband (perpetual...moreSupremely amusing account of a genteel English housewife between the wars. Her scattered, chatty, and often wry observations on her husband (perpetually hidden behind The Times), two children, nanny (“Mademoiselle”) and the line-up of village ladies provide most of the humor. Same sort of style as Bridget Jones’s Diary, only without the vulgarity and with a far more sympathetic heroine. (less)
Delicious gem of a novel — even better than its predecessor! Told in a witty, telegraphic style, our delightful heroine, now a minor authoress, must b...moreDelicious gem of a novel — even better than its predecessor! Told in a witty, telegraphic style, our delightful heroine, now a minor authoress, must balance caring for her children, navigating a foreign watering hole, soothing the frequently ruffled feathers of the French nanny who is always having a crise, and budgeting within the confines of her shockingly thin bank account (or, unfortunately, budgeting not quite within the confines of her bank account). All of this while trying to write a follow-up book to satisfy her publisher! A dinner party with an old school chum whose glamorous life and ageless skin prompts a crise for our dear heroine is worth the price of the book.(less)
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