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michaelcattigan's reviews
469 reviews
My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece by Annabel Pitcher
5.0
I have read this solely because it is on the Carnegie 2012 Shortlist which I am leading a shadowing group for at my school. Something about the title, the rather pastel chintzy cover, the subject matter simply didn't appeal. At the risk of being judgmental it struck me as a rather girly book.
All I can say is that I was wrong. It happens. More frequently than I like, but this time I am glad to say I was wrong.
The story revolves around Jamie, a ten year old boy whose remarkably well adjusted for a child whose older sister has been killed in a terrorist attack, whose mother's left them, whose father's an alcoholic and who's being bullied at his new school. The novel revolves around the first term of the new school year and follows Jamie's various triumphs and tribulations; his growing understanding of the world in which he lives.
It is not, despite the title, too much focused on the sister's death. I had dreaded that this would become a mawkish clumsy coming-to-terms-with-death book. And whilst it does do that, it is by no means the entirety or even majority of the book. In fact, those parts of the book that deal with the sister are perhaps the least successfully managed: I wasn't convinced by Roger the cat but without filling the review with spoilers I can't really say more!
There were done rather contrived plot devices: seating Jamie beside Sunya at school set up a rather obvious plot trajectory, using the Britain's Biggest Talent Show, paralleling the results of the Ofsted's inspection with the family was a little obvious perhaps. However, whilst a dry analytical part of me recognised and gently scoffed at the devices, the other warmer (moister?) parts of me loved the way in which those devices played out.
There is something very evocative in Pitcher's descriptive writing: she very often evokes an almost synaesthetic effect most obviously with the sparkles in Sunya's eyes but also elsewhere such as the words that were too big to get past Jamie's teeth like the cupboard his Dad tried to get through a door, or the word 'sober' hanging in the air like deodorant after its sprayed.
It was interesting having the bonus short story from Jasmine's point of view too: Pitcher clearly changed her writing style for her narrators and it was a brave decision to choose Jamie over fifteen year old Jasmine as the narrator. But the relationship between the brother and sister was very nicely balanced between mutual irritation and mutual dependence.
It is telling that Pitcher has worked in education - I think as an English teacher. Her description of Ofsted's arrival and the sudden imposition of Brain Gym and Learning Objectives will make any teacher smile wryly if not laugh out loud. But it also shows in her understanding of the children she depicts. I genuinely felt that this was the voice of one of the most convincing child narrators I've come across. He is more concerned about getting enough party food whilst his parents towed over his mum's affair; and dreads the emptiness of the house in case his dad had left a suicide note on the table.
All I can say is that I was wrong. It happens. More frequently than I like, but this time I am glad to say I was wrong.
The story revolves around Jamie, a ten year old boy whose remarkably well adjusted for a child whose older sister has been killed in a terrorist attack, whose mother's left them, whose father's an alcoholic and who's being bullied at his new school. The novel revolves around the first term of the new school year and follows Jamie's various triumphs and tribulations; his growing understanding of the world in which he lives.
It is not, despite the title, too much focused on the sister's death. I had dreaded that this would become a mawkish clumsy coming-to-terms-with-death book. And whilst it does do that, it is by no means the entirety or even majority of the book. In fact, those parts of the book that deal with the sister are perhaps the least successfully managed: I wasn't convinced by Roger the cat but without filling the review with spoilers I can't really say more!
There were done rather contrived plot devices: seating Jamie beside Sunya at school set up a rather obvious plot trajectory, using the Britain's Biggest Talent Show, paralleling the results of the Ofsted's inspection with the family was a little obvious perhaps. However, whilst a dry analytical part of me recognised and gently scoffed at the devices, the other warmer (moister?) parts of me loved the way in which those devices played out.
There is something very evocative in Pitcher's descriptive writing: she very often evokes an almost synaesthetic effect most obviously with the sparkles in Sunya's eyes but also elsewhere such as the words that were too big to get past Jamie's teeth like the cupboard his Dad tried to get through a door, or the word 'sober' hanging in the air like deodorant after its sprayed.
It was interesting having the bonus short story from Jasmine's point of view too: Pitcher clearly changed her writing style for her narrators and it was a brave decision to choose Jamie over fifteen year old Jasmine as the narrator. But the relationship between the brother and sister was very nicely balanced between mutual irritation and mutual dependence.
It is telling that Pitcher has worked in education - I think as an English teacher. Her description of Ofsted's arrival and the sudden imposition of Brain Gym and Learning Objectives will make any teacher smile wryly if not laugh out loud. But it also shows in her understanding of the children she depicts. I genuinely felt that this was the voice of one of the most convincing child narrators I've come across. He is more concerned about getting enough party food whilst his parents towed over his mum's affair; and dreads the emptiness of the house in case his dad had left a suicide note on the table.
Sydäntalven uhri by Mons Kallentoft
4.0
Kallentoft caught my attention on A book shelf with the Swedish title Midvinterblod and the usual "The Next Steig Larsson" boast on the front. Despite a somewhat sceptical attitude, something about the blurb and description appealed.
Despite the Swedish setting, the story is in the familiar genre of the police procedural. Malin Fors is a police officer in the Linköping police force who is called the scene of a brutal murder in the opening chapters of the book. The narration is very strongly from Fors' point of view with some notable exceptions. The most obvious and unusual exception was when the narration is taken over by the murder victim, Bengt Andersson. The first occasion it happened, I was intrigued by this fresh perspective, reminiscent of The Lovely Bones. Unfortunately I found it distracting as it became a regular feature of the book: it added little if anything to the narrative and I didn't find it increased my empathy with him any more; it also was a voice that jarred with the impression I got of Andersson through the rest of the narrative. Andersson is overweight, socially, emotionally and physically impaired and cared for by Social Workers. The impression I received of him through the book was of someone who was isolated and less than capable. The image of him waiting outside the fence of a football stadium every weekend in order to catch abc return their stray balls (from which he got his nickname Ball Bengt) was genuinely moving and reminded me of my daughter who has Asperger's Syndrome on the outside of a group wanting to join in but not knowing how. The voice in his narration however was knowing and articulate and I found that that jarred for me.
However, the character that carries this book and the series which I suspect will follow is Malin Fors. She is possibly one of the most rounded and credible police characters I have come across, certainly one of the most credible female police roles. She is a single mother with a thirteen year old daughter Tove, a lingering love for her ex-husband and a physical attraction to, occasional nights of lust with and a potential romance with a newspaper reporter Daniel. The relationship between Malin and Janne, her ex-husband, was I thought dealt with very effectively and delicately from the photograph of him beside her bed which she "usually tells herself is there to make Tove happy" to the silent nighttime phone call she makes to him. It a realistic, messy, lonely situation but not melodramatically tortured in the way that some detectives are.
Tove - as a relatively minor character - was also well drawn. Perhaps it reflects different attitudes between Scandinavian and British attitudes to parenting but I did feel that I wouldn't let my thirteen year old daughter behave as she did! The seriousness of the relationship between Tove and her boyfriend Markus - it is implied that they were having or close to having sex - and the formal "meeting his parents" scene - may have been more credible had she been fifteen or sixteen.
It says a lot about the strength of Kallentoft's writing that, thus far, I have only really mentioned his characters: the plot, whilst well plotted, intriguing and thoughtful, was the scenery which the characters brought to life.
Bengt's body is found mutilated and hanging from an isolated oak tree in the forests around Linköping. Various lines of enquiry emerge: his death suggests a connection to Old Norse Æsir religions; local schoolboy bullies; and his family which, as the novel progresses, becomes ever more complex, interconnected and sinister. Without giving the plot away, I did anticipate about half way through who the murderer was and why they had murdered but that didn't detract from the enjoyment of the book because it is as much character driven as plot driven. I was however a little disappointed that the killer was revealed by a rather artificial device: out of the blue, a psychiatrist phoned up and told them! After 6 years practising law as a barrister, that seemed more deus ex machina than policework which is generally far more pedestrian!
Kallentoft's other strength for me is his description: the chill of the midwinter, the way the cold and trees of the forest muffled the noises and voices of Malin and her partner were hugely evocative. I loved the descriptions of the food as well, which was often dealt with in some detail, including odours.
One thing which did grate was Kallentoft's dialogue: although the dialogue itself was convincing, it was almost invariably followed with "he says" and "she says". Perhaps this was a limitation in the translator rather than the writer; perhaps it is more of an English stylistic expectation; perhaps it was more obvious because I listened to this as an audiobook rather than skimming it as a written text. As a teacher, however, who constantly advises his students to limit their use of "said" it really irked!
In short, then: this was a really impressive police procedural populated by convincing and compelling characters. Would I buy another Malin Fors novel? Definitely.
Despite the Swedish setting, the story is in the familiar genre of the police procedural. Malin Fors is a police officer in the Linköping police force who is called the scene of a brutal murder in the opening chapters of the book. The narration is very strongly from Fors' point of view with some notable exceptions. The most obvious and unusual exception was when the narration is taken over by the murder victim, Bengt Andersson. The first occasion it happened, I was intrigued by this fresh perspective, reminiscent of The Lovely Bones. Unfortunately I found it distracting as it became a regular feature of the book: it added little if anything to the narrative and I didn't find it increased my empathy with him any more; it also was a voice that jarred with the impression I got of Andersson through the rest of the narrative. Andersson is overweight, socially, emotionally and physically impaired and cared for by Social Workers. The impression I received of him through the book was of someone who was isolated and less than capable. The image of him waiting outside the fence of a football stadium every weekend in order to catch abc return their stray balls (from which he got his nickname Ball Bengt) was genuinely moving and reminded me of my daughter who has Asperger's Syndrome on the outside of a group wanting to join in but not knowing how. The voice in his narration however was knowing and articulate and I found that that jarred for me.
However, the character that carries this book and the series which I suspect will follow is Malin Fors. She is possibly one of the most rounded and credible police characters I have come across, certainly one of the most credible female police roles. She is a single mother with a thirteen year old daughter Tove, a lingering love for her ex-husband and a physical attraction to, occasional nights of lust with and a potential romance with a newspaper reporter Daniel. The relationship between Malin and Janne, her ex-husband, was I thought dealt with very effectively and delicately from the photograph of him beside her bed which she "usually tells herself is there to make Tove happy" to the silent nighttime phone call she makes to him. It a realistic, messy, lonely situation but not melodramatically tortured in the way that some detectives are.
Tove - as a relatively minor character - was also well drawn. Perhaps it reflects different attitudes between Scandinavian and British attitudes to parenting but I did feel that I wouldn't let my thirteen year old daughter behave as she did! The seriousness of the relationship between Tove and her boyfriend Markus - it is implied that they were having or close to having sex - and the formal "meeting his parents" scene - may have been more credible had she been fifteen or sixteen.
It says a lot about the strength of Kallentoft's writing that, thus far, I have only really mentioned his characters: the plot, whilst well plotted, intriguing and thoughtful, was the scenery which the characters brought to life.
Bengt's body is found mutilated and hanging from an isolated oak tree in the forests around Linköping. Various lines of enquiry emerge: his death suggests a connection to Old Norse Æsir religions; local schoolboy bullies; and his family which, as the novel progresses, becomes ever more complex, interconnected and sinister. Without giving the plot away, I did anticipate about half way through who the murderer was and why they had murdered but that didn't detract from the enjoyment of the book because it is as much character driven as plot driven. I was however a little disappointed that the killer was revealed by a rather artificial device: out of the blue, a psychiatrist phoned up and told them! After 6 years practising law as a barrister, that seemed more deus ex machina than policework which is generally far more pedestrian!
Kallentoft's other strength for me is his description: the chill of the midwinter, the way the cold and trees of the forest muffled the noises and voices of Malin and her partner were hugely evocative. I loved the descriptions of the food as well, which was often dealt with in some detail, including odours.
One thing which did grate was Kallentoft's dialogue: although the dialogue itself was convincing, it was almost invariably followed with "he says" and "she says". Perhaps this was a limitation in the translator rather than the writer; perhaps it is more of an English stylistic expectation; perhaps it was more obvious because I listened to this as an audiobook rather than skimming it as a written text. As a teacher, however, who constantly advises his students to limit their use of "said" it really irked!
In short, then: this was a really impressive police procedural populated by convincing and compelling characters. Would I buy another Malin Fors novel? Definitely.
Tsotsi by Athol Fugard
4.0
Finished reading this now, waiting for students at school to catch up! If only some damn fool of a teacher just let them read it instead of teaching it and making them do work on it! Oh well!
This is an outstanding book! The quality of the writing literally glitters on the page and the novel reads more as a poem than a novel: I have never read such a lyrical piece of writing.
The novel revolves around the character of Tsotsi, a young man who is the leader of a gang of four thugs in Sophiatown, Johannesburg, South Africa in the 1950s. The name Tsotsi itself means "thug" or "gangster" and we are told in chapter one that it is a nickname: he has no recollection of almost any part of his past including his own name. Identity is a huge part of this novel: Tsotsi's lack of identity, his inability to construct his features in the mirror into a man with meaning; and his gradual realisation of who he is and how he came to be where he is by the end.
Tsotsi and his gang a clearly very shallow, violent characters lacking empathy with the people around them. Within three chapters, they have stabbed a man on a train, raped a woman in a shebeen, Tsotsi has beaten and "broken" another member of his gang and attempted to rape another woman. He is only stopped in the rape attempt when the woman thrusts a shoebox into his hands which contains a baby.
A word here about the Gavin Hood film of this book. The film updates the novel to the 21st century and seems to make Tsotsi younger and less hard than I had expected: he seems to stab the man on the train almost as a mistake, regretfully, when he starts to complain; he acquires the baby in the film by hijacking a car in the film and shoots the baby's mother and, again, seems to be an accident. In the book, Tsotsi is utterly remorseless: the murder on the train was a deliberate and calculated murder, not an unfortunate escalation of a robbery. He is shown as not simply accepting violence or being violent but as defining himself through violence and the hurt he deals to others.
I felt that the second half of the book was slightly less tightly structured and written than the first half. The section in the Church and the explicit Christian message seemed unnecessary to me; and the abruptness and ambiguity at the end if the book frustrated me.
In addition to the lyricism, which I mentioned before, what I did relish in the book were the minor characters: Gumboot Dhlamini, the victim on the train; Morris, whom he stalks in the middle of the book; and Miriam whom he forces to feed the baby. The power of these minor characters, inhabiting the furthest outskirts of society, is extraordinary. Their desperate perseverance to keep hold of their lives, whether toiling in the mines or crippled on the streets or waiting for a husband who will never return home, is genuine and authentic and utterly convincing.
13th February
Need to reread this for work and already blown away by the lyricism of the prose. This is a hugely character driven story and, from what I recall, Fugard makes them more than mere ciphers. The small moments of challenge between Tsotsi and Boston in Chapter One reveal Fugard's theatrical background.
Very lucky to have a job where reading books like this is "work"!
29th Feb
Reading the section in the book where Tsotsi runs from the slums of Sophiatown into the no man's land between the black and white areas, a liminal space in which the colours became bleached in the moonlight leaving "a prismatic, polished, gleaming world of white surfaces... A glacial white" in which the sounds become "hard, leaping, crystal" and the moonlight "lay around him in pools... Mobile as quicksilver". An absolutely stunning otherworldly (perhaps drug induced) description. And a moment later, Tsotsi will have the baby that will change his life thrust into his hands. Fabulous!
This is an outstanding book! The quality of the writing literally glitters on the page and the novel reads more as a poem than a novel: I have never read such a lyrical piece of writing.
The novel revolves around the character of Tsotsi, a young man who is the leader of a gang of four thugs in Sophiatown, Johannesburg, South Africa in the 1950s. The name Tsotsi itself means "thug" or "gangster" and we are told in chapter one that it is a nickname: he has no recollection of almost any part of his past including his own name. Identity is a huge part of this novel: Tsotsi's lack of identity, his inability to construct his features in the mirror into a man with meaning; and his gradual realisation of who he is and how he came to be where he is by the end.
Tsotsi and his gang a clearly very shallow, violent characters lacking empathy with the people around them. Within three chapters, they have stabbed a man on a train, raped a woman in a shebeen, Tsotsi has beaten and "broken" another member of his gang and attempted to rape another woman. He is only stopped in the rape attempt when the woman thrusts a shoebox into his hands which contains a baby.
A word here about the Gavin Hood film of this book. The film updates the novel to the 21st century and seems to make Tsotsi younger and less hard than I had expected: he seems to stab the man on the train almost as a mistake, regretfully, when he starts to complain; he acquires the baby in the film by hijacking a car in the film and shoots the baby's mother and, again, seems to be an accident. In the book, Tsotsi is utterly remorseless: the murder on the train was a deliberate and calculated murder, not an unfortunate escalation of a robbery. He is shown as not simply accepting violence or being violent but as defining himself through violence and the hurt he deals to others.
I felt that the second half of the book was slightly less tightly structured and written than the first half. The section in the Church and the explicit Christian message seemed unnecessary to me; and the abruptness and ambiguity at the end if the book frustrated me.
In addition to the lyricism, which I mentioned before, what I did relish in the book were the minor characters: Gumboot Dhlamini, the victim on the train; Morris, whom he stalks in the middle of the book; and Miriam whom he forces to feed the baby. The power of these minor characters, inhabiting the furthest outskirts of society, is extraordinary. Their desperate perseverance to keep hold of their lives, whether toiling in the mines or crippled on the streets or waiting for a husband who will never return home, is genuine and authentic and utterly convincing.
13th February
Need to reread this for work and already blown away by the lyricism of the prose. This is a hugely character driven story and, from what I recall, Fugard makes them more than mere ciphers. The small moments of challenge between Tsotsi and Boston in Chapter One reveal Fugard's theatrical background.
Very lucky to have a job where reading books like this is "work"!
29th Feb
Reading the section in the book where Tsotsi runs from the slums of Sophiatown into the no man's land between the black and white areas, a liminal space in which the colours became bleached in the moonlight leaving "a prismatic, polished, gleaming world of white surfaces... A glacial white" in which the sounds become "hard, leaping, crystal" and the moonlight "lay around him in pools... Mobile as quicksilver". An absolutely stunning otherworldly (perhaps drug induced) description. And a moment later, Tsotsi will have the baby that will change his life thrust into his hands. Fabulous!
Anno Dracula by Kim Newman
I have a confession.
I love Dracula. Both the character and Stoker's novel.
And I love vampires.
Not the sparkly, fairy, effete version populating Meyer's asinine attempts at fiction ("Dear Dracula, do you remember that one night seventeen years ago? Well, we need to talk. Sincerely, Tinkerbell") but full blown raging bloodlust sensual sexual visceral vampires. Buffy's Angel and werewolves may be a tortured soul trapped in a bestial form struggling to contain their animal appetites (which has its own appeal) but a real true dyed-in-the-wool vampire revels in and relishes their evil.
The concept for this book, then, had an automatic appeal: Dracula had arrived in England; he seduced and turned Lucy Westenra who is dispatched by the forces of light comprising Arthur Holmwood, John Seward and Quincey Morris. As the forces of light attempt to track down Dracula, he turns his attention to Mina Harker. At this point, Newman's narrative departs from Stoker's: Dracula kills Jonathan Harker and Quincey Morris; he seduces Queen Victoria and becomes Prince Consort; a world of vampires flocks to England to make a stab at (or to take a bite at) an openly vampiric life.
History and fiction mingle in Newman's tale: Stoker and Van Helsing are both characters; Inspectors Lestrade and Abberline work side by side; Sherlock Holmes has been incarcerated in a 'warm' concentration camp; doctors Moreau and Jekyll investigate vampire physiology. Vampires from fiction abound from Lord Rothven (appropriately for the first literary vampire in Polidori's The Vampyre now Prime Minister to less familiar names such as Kostaki, von Klatka and Count Vardalek.
As a self confessed geek, there is an undeniable delight in recognising the various recreations and re-imaginings of famous and less famous characters.
Had that been the only pleasure, though, this would have been a thin, poor novel. Fortunately, it is not the only pleasure: Newman's story remains rooted in the final years of the nineteenth century and focusses on the Jack the Ripper murders. The Ripper's victims, Nichols, Chapman, Stride, Eddowes and Kelly remain prostitutes in Whitechapel but are now vampire prostitutes and their murders attract the attention of Scotland Yard; Queen Victoria herself; the shadowy Diogenes Club headed by Mycroft Holmes (which exists somewhere between diplomacy and warfare on behalf of the Queen); the criminal spider's web headed by Fu Manchu, the Lord of Strange Deaths, and Professor Moriarty; and the philanthropic hospital and charity of Toynbee Hall.
Our main characters are Geneviève Dieudonné and Charles Beauregard. Geneviève is a four hundred year old Vampire elder who works as assistant director of the Hall under Dracula's Jack Seward; Charles is an agent of the Diogenes Club and, through them, the Queen. Geneviève in particular is a quite compelling character: turned at the age of sixteen and remaining in a sixteen year old body, she remains a strong moral anchor in the world. Enough of her history and powers are hinted at that she comes across as indomitable throughout the novel even though we never truly see her unleash that power. Charles Beauregard by contrast is a lesser character: mired in duty and obligation to his Queen, his fiancée and his deceased wife he is so much less confident and compelling than Geneviève.
The novel conjures up all the expected cliches of Victorian London with Hanson cabs, fogs and gas lamps yet manages to remain fresh and convincing. The addition of the vampires into the social sink of Whitechapel, where a threepenny could buy you both a roll in the hay and a blood letting, deepens the griminess of the area. One woman in a particularly unpleasant image trails the streets of Whitechapel with two children in tow (which may or may not be her own) to pimp their blood to passing vampires.
The vampires themselves are not quite the full blooded bloodsuckers I had hoped for. The magic and superstition of Dracula is stripped away, as is their antipathy to crosses and holy water and garlic. These vampires are more natural than Stoker's: they're still preternaturally strong, heal almost instantly from most injuries, have a various abilities depending on their bloodlines including almost psychic sensitivity to others' thoughts or shapeshifting; sunlight can burn newly turned vampires and silver can prevent wounds from closing. It is from this silver that Jack the Ripper is dubbed Silverknife before the Ripper moniker is attached to him.
There is a wider larger plot behind the efforts to track down the Ripper but in fear of spoilers I shall not dwell on that. It did manage to take me by surprise in the final hour of the audiobook!
4.0
I have a confession.
I love Dracula. Both the character and Stoker's novel.
And I love vampires.
Not the sparkly, fairy, effete version populating Meyer's asinine attempts at fiction ("Dear Dracula, do you remember that one night seventeen years ago? Well, we need to talk. Sincerely, Tinkerbell") but full blown raging bloodlust sensual sexual visceral vampires. Buffy's Angel and werewolves may be a tortured soul trapped in a bestial form struggling to contain their animal appetites (which has its own appeal) but a real true dyed-in-the-wool vampire revels in and relishes their evil.
The concept for this book, then, had an automatic appeal: Dracula had arrived in England; he seduced and turned Lucy Westenra who is dispatched by the forces of light comprising Arthur Holmwood, John Seward and Quincey Morris. As the forces of light attempt to track down Dracula, he turns his attention to Mina Harker. At this point, Newman's narrative departs from Stoker's: Dracula kills Jonathan Harker and Quincey Morris; he seduces Queen Victoria and becomes Prince Consort; a world of vampires flocks to England to make a stab at (or to take a bite at) an openly vampiric life.
History and fiction mingle in Newman's tale: Stoker and Van Helsing are both characters; Inspectors Lestrade and Abberline work side by side; Sherlock Holmes has been incarcerated in a 'warm' concentration camp; doctors Moreau and Jekyll investigate vampire physiology. Vampires from fiction abound from Lord Rothven (appropriately for the first literary vampire in Polidori's The Vampyre now Prime Minister to less familiar names such as Kostaki, von Klatka and Count Vardalek.
As a self confessed geek, there is an undeniable delight in recognising the various recreations and re-imaginings of famous and less famous characters.
Had that been the only pleasure, though, this would have been a thin, poor novel. Fortunately, it is not the only pleasure: Newman's story remains rooted in the final years of the nineteenth century and focusses on the Jack the Ripper murders. The Ripper's victims, Nichols, Chapman, Stride, Eddowes and Kelly remain prostitutes in Whitechapel but are now vampire prostitutes and their murders attract the attention of Scotland Yard; Queen Victoria herself; the shadowy Diogenes Club headed by Mycroft Holmes (which exists somewhere between diplomacy and warfare on behalf of the Queen); the criminal spider's web headed by Fu Manchu, the Lord of Strange Deaths, and Professor Moriarty; and the philanthropic hospital and charity of Toynbee Hall.
Our main characters are Geneviève Dieudonné and Charles Beauregard. Geneviève is a four hundred year old Vampire elder who works as assistant director of the Hall under Dracula's Jack Seward; Charles is an agent of the Diogenes Club and, through them, the Queen. Geneviève in particular is a quite compelling character: turned at the age of sixteen and remaining in a sixteen year old body, she remains a strong moral anchor in the world. Enough of her history and powers are hinted at that she comes across as indomitable throughout the novel even though we never truly see her unleash that power. Charles Beauregard by contrast is a lesser character: mired in duty and obligation to his Queen, his fiancée and his deceased wife he is so much less confident and compelling than Geneviève.
The novel conjures up all the expected cliches of Victorian London with Hanson cabs, fogs and gas lamps yet manages to remain fresh and convincing. The addition of the vampires into the social sink of Whitechapel, where a threepenny could buy you both a roll in the hay and a blood letting, deepens the griminess of the area. One woman in a particularly unpleasant image trails the streets of Whitechapel with two children in tow (which may or may not be her own) to pimp their blood to passing vampires.
The vampires themselves are not quite the full blooded bloodsuckers I had hoped for. The magic and superstition of Dracula is stripped away, as is their antipathy to crosses and holy water and garlic. These vampires are more natural than Stoker's: they're still preternaturally strong, heal almost instantly from most injuries, have a various abilities depending on their bloodlines including almost psychic sensitivity to others' thoughts or shapeshifting; sunlight can burn newly turned vampires and silver can prevent wounds from closing. It is from this silver that Jack the Ripper is dubbed Silverknife before the Ripper moniker is attached to him.
There is a wider larger plot behind the efforts to track down the Ripper but in fear of spoilers I shall not dwell on that. It did manage to take me by surprise in the final hour of the audiobook!
Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak
5.0
BRILLIANT Book!! So sad to hear that Sendak died today.
My thoughts on his influence on me at http://thebookloversmusings.wordpress.com/2012/05/08/maurice-sendak-rip/
My thoughts on his influence on me at http://thebookloversmusings.wordpress.com/2012/05/08/maurice-sendak-rip/