The Whispering Skull (Lockwood & Co., #2)

by Jonathan Stroud

“I wondered that,” George said. “I wondered about a lot of things. It used to annoy me that I got no answers. Anyway, in the end I asked so many questions that they fired me. My supervisor—a woman called Sweeny, face like a sock soaked in vinegar—gave me an hour to clear out my desk.

“I just think it’s a pity that he’s so secretive,” I said simply. “It’s a shame.” George gave a skeptical snort. “Oh, come on. You love all that mystery about him. Just like you love that pensive, far-off look he does sometimes, as if he’s brooding about important matters, or contemplating a tricky bowel movement. Don’t try to deny it. I know.”

Next time I see a broody hero, I’ll think of constipation

This was classic Lockwood. Friendly, considerate, empathetic. My personal impulse would have been to slap the girl soundly around the face and boot her moaning backside out into the night. Which is why he’s the leader, and I’m not. Also why I have no female friends.

Sigh. A funny comment but such a terrible trope and something that especially bothers me having noticed the show replaced many of these characters with female ones (eg the researcher Joplin) to make the ratio closer to 4:1 male characters. The book so far has been more like 10:1. And don’t even get me started on how everyone is a pale native englishperson when I know London is more diverse than that (again extra noticeable for the show’s decision to be more colorful).

George unclipped his thermometer and switched on the dial. “Temp’s dropping. Fifty degrees now. It was fifty-seven in here when we came in.”

I appreciate this has been adjusted to Fareinheit