Petrina Binney's Blog, page 6
May 15, 2022
Book Review – The Nothing Man by Catherine Ryan Howard
Book Review – The Nothing Man by Catherine Ryan Howard
First published, 2020
One of my favourite books of the year so far, The Nothing Man is unlike any crime novel I’ve read before.
In part, it’s a true crime story written by the lone survivor of a vicious, murderous attack in a Corkonian family home that resulted in the deaths of her mother, father and seven-year-old sister. Eighteen years later, Eve has now grown to adulthood and is writing her story (despite spending most of her life trying to suppress it) as a means of drawing out the unknown killer or jog some memories from those who might have known him.
But the other side of the story is from the perspective of the Nothing Man – the oh-so-clever, never-left-any-evidence-hence-the-name, will-never-be-caught murderer – who is reading Eve’s book.
Thoroughly cat and mouse, with lots of twists and turns, I loved how bored the Nothing Man was by Eve’s written grief. I really enjoyed getting to know Detective Garda Sergeant Edward Healy, a great character, stuck on the case that remained unsolved, in crisis but stoic about it.
“His marriage, less than three years old, was one bad argument away from breaking down. Healy worried about the frequency and extent of his drinking, and then drank more so he could stop worrying about it for a while. At night he would lie awake, tormented by the feeling that he was standing at a crossroads, and if he didn’t move soon – if he didn’t make a decision, a drastic change in his life – something would burst out of the shadows and run him over, and after that there’d be no coming back.
“Not having anyone to talk to about this made it all the worse. Mental health wasn’t something the force even acknowledged back then, let alone prioritised. Members who’d had to deal with horrific scenes and frightening situations worked through what many of them would later come to suspect was PTSD over pints in the pub, and even then… As one member put it, the prevailing mood at the time was not one of support, but one-upmanship. ‘You think that’s bad? Wait until I tell you what I saw today!’”
38% in, Chapter Five, Westpark, The Nothing Man by Catherine Ryan Howard
And I’ve found a new favourite author. The list is getting longer all the time.
Book Review – Roots by Alex Haley
Book Review – Roots by Alex Haley
First published, 1976
A semi-imagined, though thoroughly researched, family memoir, Roots tells the story of seven generations of a family: from the birth of Kunte Kinte in The Gambia in 1750, kidnapped, beaten, taken into slavery in America, after a voyage that killed many aboard the ship, sold and after many attempts at escape, mutilated so that he couldn’t run – and the generations that followed this taciturn man, who refused to take the name his owner tried to force on him, instead teaching his little daughter his history and some words from his homeland. His daughter, Kizzy, then passed this knowledge on to her son, George, who passed it to his children and so on and so forth; each retelling adding a little of the life stories of subsequent generations until they reached the author.
The horror of this story is matched by the descriptive detail and the characterisations of real people who lived and suffered through an appalling period of modern history.
I know I’ve harped on in previous reviews about how deeply irked I am by phonetic dialogue. It slows the eye and therefore, messes with the pacing of the narrative. However, the use of dialogue phonetics in this book is very effective. I suspect this is because Kunte Kinte and his family, and fellow Africans, would not have been taught anything beyond broken English – just enough to comprehend the demands of slave owners and overseers.
Emotionally rich and shocking, the writing is powerful, the history damning. Perhaps as powerful as the imagery and the horrors of the slave trade is the fact that one man’s name and story was passed through his family for two-hundred years until his great-great-great-great-grandson, an author, visited Kunte Kinte’s home village in Juffure and was embraced as someone precious, thought lost.
Book Review – The Scapegoat by Daphne du Maurier
Book Review – The Scapegoat by Daphne du Maurier
First published, 1957
The story follows John, an Englishman in France in the mid-1950s. A specialist in French history and culture, John is taking a holiday but can’t escape the feeling that his life lacks the depth and meaning brought by others. He considers himself an observer of mankind, a man apart, and a man lacking that indefinable something that truly makes the human experience.
Stopping off at a bar on his way to a spiritual retreat (which, to my mind, is the perfect way to start a spiritual retreat), John finds himself assaulted by the sight of a man who is his exact double. The only real difference between them is that Jean, a Frenchman, has a family and a huge amount of responsibility weighing on his shoulders.
When the two of them repair to a slightly slummy hotel to talk over their lives and regrets, Englishman John cannot know that when he wakes up, Jean will have taken his car, his ID, and his clothes, and left him to deal with his problems at home.
But will John, suddenly head of a household including a morbidly obese, addict mother, silent sister, abrupt brother, slinky sister-in-law, horrifyingly precocious daughter, and heavily pregnant wife, turn tail at the earliest opportunity and head back to Blighty? Or will he find sanctuary and fulfilment in the dysfunctional Family de Gué? And is who we are defined by other people’s expectations and prior experience?
Oh how I love Daphne du Maurier. Her prose is rich, her characters clearly defined and her ability to subvert expectation is without peer. Not one of her better known works, I hadn’t heard of The Scapegoat before tweeting my love of Rebecca. My heartfelt thanks to another of my favourite authors, Stella Duffy, for this recommendation.
“I walked past the lorry and across the Place to the brasserie at the corner; and suddenly the pale sun shone from the fitful sky, and the people thronging the Place, who had seemed black smudges in the rain, crow-like, bent, impersonal, became animated blobs of colour, smiling, gesticulating, strolling about their business with new leisure as the sky fell apart, turning the dull day to gold.
“The brasserie was crowded, the atmosphere thick with the good smell of food, soupy and pungent – of cheese upon sauce-tipped knives, spilt wine, the bitter dregs of coffee – and rank, too, with the wet cloth of coats heavily rained upon, now drying, the whole scene framed in a blue smoke-cloud of Gauloise cigarettes.”
p7, Chapter One, The Scapegoat by Daphne du Maurier
Happy sigh.
Book Review – Scissors, Nurse, Scissors by Greta Barnes
Book Review – Scissors, Nurse, Scissors by Greta Barnes
First published, 2009
This diary covers the training years of a Bart’s nurse in the early 1960s. Written with youthful enthusiasm and well-worn but seemingly boundless energy, Greta Barnes gives a rather lovely insight to working at one of the most famous hospitals in London. My mother trained at Bart’s a year or two before the author and so a lot of the locations, key tutors and wards were familiar to me. As well as making wonderful nurses, Bart’s has a tradition of moulding storytellers and this diary, with its many anecdotes, letters and photos, gives the reader a glimpse of a nurse’s life at a particularly evocative time.
“30 December, Wednesday, 1959
“Miss Russell, the Night Superintendent, whom we call Jane after the film star Jane Russell, really is the limit. She is tiny and owl-like and looks as if she has never seen the light of day – but she is an ogre! She came into the ward tonight and I was told off for removing the screens in front of the ward door too early when a patient who had died from Dalziel, the ward opposite, was being taken to the mortuary. Corrinne was in trouble because she hadn’t had time to report a minor incident and we were told we would probably be sent to Matron.”
p28-29, Women’s Medical, Annie Zunz Ward, Nights, Nurse, Scissors, Nurse by Greta Barnes
Of course, Ms Barnes goes on to say that Miss Russell was a very devoted care-giver and a fierce friend but, like so many teachers who terrified me as a teenager, she took her time sharing her softer side. As it happens, all the nurses referred to Miss Russell as ‘Jane’. I suspect they all thought their Set was the one that started it, but I imagine she liked it.
A sweet diary. Any nurse, especially any Bart’s nurse, would adore this book.
April 29, 2022
Book Review – Hannibal (Hannibal Lecter #3) by Thomas Harris
Book Review – Hannibal (Hannibal Lecter #3) by Thomas Harris
First published, 1999
In this third instalment of the Hannibal Lecter series, we delve further back. Back, in fact, to Lecter’s devastated wartime childhood, the sister he lost and her horrible end, and we also discover Lecter’s former patient: lipless, lidless, partially eaten by dogs, the wildly wealthy Mason Verger, who is on a personal crusade to find Lecter before the FBI so he can exact vengeance for his awful injuries.
But it’s seven years since Lecter escaped in the Buffalo Bill debacle, Clarice Starling’s career has stalled largely because she won’t sleep with the bosses who refuse to take her seriously, and Lecter has so altered his appearance that the police in Italy might never recognise him – were it not for the massive bounty on his head.
But can a well-funded team of armed muscle men overpower the psychiatrist and cannibal? Will Mason Verger get his revenge? Will his sister Margot ever have his baby? And has Clarice already met the only man who could be her equal?
An awesome story with some devastating prose, haunting characters, and shocking deaths. There’s a scene, eight pages from the end (I won’t ruin it for you) that even after all the face-eating shocked me to my core. A must read.
Off I go to find a copy of Hannibal Rising.
Book Review – The Silence of the Lambs (Hannibal Lecter #2) by Thomas Harris
Book Review – The Silence of the Lambs (Hannibal Lecter #2) by Thomas Harris
First published, 1988
The clever plots, fierce characters and grisly murders continue in this, the second Hannibal Lecter book. A serial killer, dubbed Buffalo Bill, has been killing and skinning large women, and dumping their bodies in waterways across the country, in no particular pattern, leaving a chrysalis of the Death’s Head moth in their throats.
With FBI trainee, Clarice Starling, brought in to talk to the infinitely knowledgeable but terrifying Dr. Lecter, the case takes on a new sense of urgency when a senator’s daughter goes missing. But will Clarice be able to move beyond her own childhood trauma to sift through Dr. Lecter’s clues and find Buffalo Bill? Or will Catherine Martin face the same appalling fate as those who came before her?
I knew this story fairly intimately before I picked up the book, as I must have watched the film a few dozen times. To the point that whenever I see Brooke Smith (who played Catherine Martin in the 1990 film) in anything, I affect an accent and ask, ‘Was she a great big fat person?’
Poor woman. She wasn’t even especially large. Anyway, in the book, as in the film, my heart dropped like a rock when Catherine offered to help the stranger with the sling get the armchair into his van.
Clarice is an amazing character. There’s a scene where Clarice is about to enter the abandoned storage container with the door stuck about a foot from the ground and she asks the lawyer to call the field office if she should get stuck. The fact that the dialogue matched precisely the forced chuckles and thinly veiled nervousness of Jodie Foster’s character in the film pleased me enormously.
In the film, Clarice is a bit of a goody-two-shoes. Nothing necessarily wrong in that. There’s only so much time in a film, and Jodie Foster’s performance is the stuff of celluloid legend. But I did like that, in the book, Clarice has a bit of a mouth on her. Her swearing is infrequent but human, and I think I liked her even more for that.
The dynamic between Clarice and Hannibal Lecter crackles from the page, and the creepiness of Dr. Chilton was stunning.
“‘We’ve had a lot of detectives here, but I can’t remember one so attractive,’ Chilton said without getting up.
“Starling knew without thinking about it that the shine on his extended hand was lanolin from patting his hair. She let go before he did.
“‘It’s Miss Sterling, isn’t it?’
“‘It’s Starling, Doctor, with an A. Thank you for your time.’
“‘So the FBI is going to the girls like everything else, ha, ha.’ He added the tobacco smile he uses to separate his sentences.
“‘The Bureau’s improving, Dr. Chilton. It certainly is.’”
p9, Chapter Two, The Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris
Boom. Iconic.
Book Review – Red Dragon (Hannibal Lecter #1) by Thomas Harris
Book Review – Red Dragon (Hannibal Lecter #1) by Thomas Harris
First published, 1981
Brought out of isolation, while recovering from being almost gutted by the notorious doctor and mass murderer, Hannibal ’The Cannibal’ Lecter, FBI profiler, Will Graham, is on the hunt for a biting serial killer the police have dubbed ’The Tooth Fairy’.
With the rare ability to enter the mind of a murderer, to see what he sees and feel what he feels, Will is well aware of the killer’s habits; he knows he will strike again within a few short weeks. But aside from an economic bracket, the victims don’t seem to have all that much in common. Aside from their horrible deaths.
But just as Dr. Lecter is becoming pen pals with every psychology student, journalist and whacko who can afford a stamp, so Will Graham is returning to himself, becoming the investigator and family man he was always meant to be. Meanwhile, the Tooth Fairy, who styles himself the ‘Red Dragon’, is simply Becoming. But a dragon must have blood and death to aid his birth into the world.
An incredible story. I kept trying to slow down my reading but I devoured this one in two days. An intricate story with vivid characters, wretched murders, and a terribly clever conclusion. Gosh, when the reason for the bolt cutters was fathomed out, my jaw fell open and I couldn’t have blinked for cash money.
Although I’m posting this as a five star, I’m knocking off half a star for some very annoying typos. The murdered families have the surnames Jacobi and Leeds. Reference to the house of the latter family was regularly just plain wrong, unless it’s an American thing, but I’m pretty sure I’d have come across it before if it was:
“Graham wanted to see the Leeds alive.” p45, Chapter Five, Red Dragon by Thomas Harris
(Should have been Leedses)
“’Too bad he got to the Leeds when old Parsons was right down the street, convenient,’ Lewis observed.” p43, Chapter Four, Red Dragon by Thomas Harris
(Should have been Leedses, or Leeds’ house)
There are other examples, but adding more than two to reference would make me sad beyond words. So let’s move past that. There’s a moment in Chapter Twenty-Five when little Francis Dolarhyde tells his grandmother his name, and my heart split in two.
There’s no doubting the power of the writing. For instance, between Graham and Lecter:
“‘I thought you might be curious to find out if you’re smarter than the person I’m looking for.’
“’Then, by implication, you think you are smarter than I am, since you caught me.’
“‘No. I know I’m not smarter than you are.’
“‘Then how did you catch me, Will?’
“’You had disadvantages.’
“‘What disadvantages?’
“‘Passion. And you’re insane.’
“‘You’re very tan, Will.’
“Graham did not answer.
“‘Your hands are rough. They don’t look like a cop’s hands any more. That shaving lotion is something a child would select. It has a ship on the bottle, doesn’t it?’ Dr. Lecter seldom holds his head upright. He tilts it as he asks a question, as though he were screwing an augur of curiosity into your face. Another silence, and Lecter said, ‘Don’t think you can persuade me with appeals to my intellectual vanity.’
“‘I don’t think I’ll persuade you. You’ll do it or you won’t. Dr. Bloom is working on it anyway, and he’s the most—‘
“‘Do you have the file with you?’
“‘Yes.’”
p77-78, Chapter Seven, Red Dragon by Thomas Harris
April 26, 2022
Book Review – This Time For Me by Alexandra Billings
Book Review – This Time For Me by Alexandra Billings
First published, 2022
An open-hearted, astonishing, moving, and deeply sincere memoir, This Time For Me is the fabulous and devastating life story of actor, teacher and activist, Alexandra Billings.
Probably best known for her portrayal of Davina, transgender friend and mentor to the newly emerging Maura Pfefferman in Amazon’s Transparent, Ms Billings’ autobiography is frank, witty and relentlessly honest.
While I was reading, I felt like I was hearing the life experience of a friend, that I was being trusted with the truth of someone I cared about, which speaks to the clarity of the writing – by turns, funny, beautiful and breathtakingly sad – and the charisma of the author. I adored this book.
From a childhood of otherness to a journey of self-discovery through clublife, back alleys, drugs, violence, and live theatre, This Time For Me is a powerful story from a remarkable, heroic woman.
“Although never really the star of any shows, I was cast in almost everything, both plays and musicals. I rarely had lines, and if I did, I was relegated to Guard Number Four, but I made my presence felt. I would juggle carrots in the background while the lead was orating about his dead father. I would race through the hallways and make siren sounds, even though there were no sirens in the play, or in the hallways.
“So, obviously, I was meant for a higher calling than college. My brother was going to college. That was his responsibility. Not mine. And really, what exactly was a degree supposed to get me? Were there courses in Being A Broadway Star? I never once heard Ethel Merman talk about sorority life.”
14% in, Nine, The Very First Time(s), This Time For Me by Alexandra Billings
chef’s kiss
April 25, 2022
Book Review – Cocoon by David Saperstein
Book Review – Cocoon by David Saperstein
First published, 1985
The story follows a small group of older men, and later their wives, in an old folks’ apartment complex in Florida. Feeling the full effects of retirement, disease, and age, the old boys can’t believe their luck when they happen upon what appears to be a health club in the unfinished building next-door.
Having sneaked in, and with no idea what the equipment actually does, the men can’t help but notice how, after using the unusual pod-like cubicles, and basking in the strange lights, they find their diseases healed, their sex drives returned, and their hair growing back.
But this technology is not of this world and those who created it need it to revive their dormant compatriots. But if the Antarean army can’t be woken, will the old people be able to take their place on a trip across the galaxy? And will they be able to recruit enough old people… in Florida?
I’m not much for sci-fi (much of the tech talk goes over my head and I fail to distinguish between what is real/possible and what is imagined), but I liked this book. The characters are well-drawn, with intriguing back stories and relationships. The dialogue is snappy and the ending satisfying.
I did get quite annoyed with the old chaps – once they realised what effect the machines were having on them, I wanted them to tell their wives immediately. That probably sounds very ‘hausfrau’ of me to say. Let me qualify then: the fellas weren’t backwards in coming forwards when they rediscovered their libidos and it might have been more thoughtful if they’d mentioned that they were feeling healthy and why, rather than intruding on their women, some of whom were horrified, especially when one of the wives’ sisters had had a stroke. For this reader, if you’ve discovered a miracle cure for everything, get your hands off the underwear and call your sister-in-law. All that aside, it’s worth bearing in mind the chaps are fictional, and only human, so you have to let them off. A bit.
The attention to detail impressed me:
“… Bess Perlman turned her blue Olds on to the One hundred sixty-third Street causeway. She drove slowly and ignored the horns and shouts of other drivers. No one could accuse her of reckless driving. No one could accuse her of reckless anything.
“Her life had been careful and quiet. Before Arthur Perlman there was the good life in Manhattan Beach in Brooklyn. Her father was a judge of the State Court of Appeals. He was an honourable man with political connections. He was also second generation and totally Americanized and assimilated. Her mother was a gentile and considerably younger than Judge Bernstein. Bess had her mother’s looks and her father’s intelligence. She was a beautiful girl. She met Arthur Perlman at a New Year’s Eve Party at a friend’s house. The Bernstein sisters, Bess and Betty, were the talk of Manhattan Beach and extremely popular girls.
“After Art had revealed his business to her, Bess understood why her father had avoided them after their marriage.”
p137, Chapter 27, Cocoon by David Saperstein
Book Review – A War of Daisies – The Four Horsewomen of the Apocalypse by AA Chamberlynn
Book Review – A War of Daisies – The Four Horsewomen of the Apocalypse Book One by AA Chamberlynn
Set in the late 1800s with some delightful elements of steampunk in the Old West, the story follows four women – Willow, Felicity, Penelope and Dynah. Thwarted by gender, race, time and emotion, the young women are preparing for an event in their hometown which will see a massive population explosion as well as various feats of wrangling, lassoing, and the genteel arts.
But when a violent storm and a lightning strike bind the women to each other as well as a fate they could not possibly have foreseen, will they usher in the end of times? Or will they find a way to save those who’ve oppressed them?
A magical story, I can’t think I’ve read anything like it before. There was a lot of attention to detail in the telling of the four women’s stories and, as much as the clue is in the subtitle, it came as a big surprise to this reader, without feeling in any way rushed or tacked on. A clever plot with likeable characters, loads of emotion and an impressive level of gumption from all the key players. I felt Felicity’s frustration right in my stomach.
“Felicity watched the tea kettle scream and she envied it. To be able to lose control, to let it all out… such a simple thing. Such an impossible thing. No, she was the boiling heat and the raw strength, but with no outlet.
“‘Beatrice!’ her mother shrieked. ’Take that kettle off the stove! The preacher will be here any moment!’
“Felicity hastily leaned forward and lifted the kettle off the stove. The kettle ceased its banshee call with a hiss that sounded profoundly disappointed.”
46% in, Chapter Nineteen, A War of Daisies – The Four Horsewomen of the Apocalypse by AA Chamberlynn
